Venetian Red, Volume 3

 

Chapter 29 The Old White

Alam swung himself onto the back of a sturdy steppe horse, the mount shifting beneath him with a snort. He adjusted his posture, striking a pose that he hoped conveyed both authority and casual disregard for the recent carnage. A small contingent of camera drones buzzed around him, capturing the moment for posterity—or, more accurately, for propaganda purposes. He executed a few practiced maneuvers, a subtle choreography of horsemanship designed to impress. It was important to project an image of strength and control, even if the reality was that he was slightly saddle sore.

after that. alam dismount from the one tribal horse. and wipe his face. he then look at surround him. its a fucking mess place.road is destroyed. all hangar  and warehouse is busted but atleast some building can used for future operation.

The tattered remnants of the Blood Khaganate flag were being torn down, replaced by the Wanderer standard: a stark black banner emblazoned with a crimson triangle. Alongside it, the golden Garuda of Baihu’s legion snapped in the wind, joined by the banners of other allied mercenary groups and local tribes. It was a colorful, if somewhat chaotic, display of newfound unity.

Alam surveyed the destruction, his gaze settling on an unexpected sight: a small, intact tea room. It was a simple space—an empty room with a mattress and wooden window frames, a stark contrast to the Khaganate's militaristic aesthetic. Alam entered and sat cross-legged on the floor. “hmhm.. tea party huh? well. we can add good things to our culture. and khagan warrior is not just mindless barbarian..”

A few weeks later, Alam awaited news in his office, boredom etched on his face. The news report informed him of the mercs sweeping through Central Asia, with enemy factions either surrendering or planning to.

 

Recruits flocked to the Wanderer bases, drawn by their soaring reputation. However, the influx presented a new challenge. Some recruits embellished their service records, sporting fabricated medals. Others, genuine veterans, arrived without documentation, relying solely on their reputations.

To maintain cohesion and quality, older Wanderer veterans were pressed into service as recruiting and field officers. Their unwavering loyalty to Alam and their extensive experience, from Carpathia to Hong Kong, made them invaluable.

 

In June 2401, with warm, dry weather, the Wanderer army pushed forward on multiple fronts. Even while still recovering, they rotated their troops to keep the momentum going. Alam relied on his new generals to launch multiple attacks, and the speed and surprise of these strikes left the Khaganate, despite having more soldiers, stunned and confused about where to focus their defenses first.

 

"Any updates on the other Khaganate generals? Where are Qilong and Feihong?" Alam asked, flipping through documents.

 

Li’s voice crackled through the speaker. "General Qilong refuses to surrender. Our troops are still locked in a standoff with his forces."

 

Zhang jumped in, "Feihong is also resisting, but we’re pressing the attack. It’s only a matter of time before he surrenders."

 

"Time is of the essence. We need to act before the Red Nation intervenes. Which front needs more attention?" Alam pressed.

 

Li replied, "Qilong's forces are stubborn; they fight like cornered wolves. They need more focus."

 

Zhang added, "Feihong’s forces are the strongest left. We’ll need our best units to deal with him."

 

"Alright, I’ll tackle Qilong first. Let’s hope reinforcements from the Golden Caravan arrive soon," Alam concluded.

 

As Alam flew to the front line, he witnessed fierce clashes between the mercs and Qilong's forces. He landed to assess the situation.

 

"Li, give me the current status," Alam commanded.

 

"Qilong's forces are tougher than expected. They’re well-disciplined and fighting hard, making it tough to break through," Li reported.

 

"What’s the terrain like between us?" Alam asked.

 

"Mostly open, with few trees and houses. The flat terrain makes advancing against Qilong's defenses challenging," Li explained.

 

"Are they sending sorties?" Alam inquired.

 

"Yes, they’re using sorties to slow our advance. They’ve caused significant casualties among our troops," Li confirmed.

 

"Hmm. Let’s set a trap. Plant hidden explosives in our trenches. When they attack, feign a retreat and lure them in," Alam ordered.

 

"Understood, sir! We’ll set up the explosives and create a false retreat," Li replied.

 

"Perfect. Execute the plan," Alam commanded.

 

Li quickly relayed the orders, and the troops began implementing the strategy. They planted explosives and staged a retreat, convincing Qilong’s forces to pursue them.

 

Once Qilong's troops occupied the trenches, they triggered the explosives. The trap worked flawlessly, causing chaos among the enemy ranks.

 

"Fools! Now is our time! All-out attack!" Alam shouted.

 

The merc forces surged forward, taking advantage of the confusion and dealing serious damage.

 

His troops rallied, launching an assault on Qilong's base, exploiting the enemy's disarray to wreak havoc and push through their defenses.

"Forward! Infantry, move alongside the armored vehicles—shoulder to shoulder! Don’t spread too far!" Alam barked, channeling his inner drill sergeant.

 

The merc force sprang into action, advancing in a tight formation, determined to work side by side with their armored vehicles. They pushed forward, ready to smash through General Qilong's defenses and reach his base.

 

"What's the battle situation?" Alam demanded, scanning the horizon like a hawk.

 

An officer chimed in, "General Qilong's main force is on the run! Our assault has caused significant damage, but some of his units are still putting up a fight. His base is not yet fully secured, but the retreat is in full swing."

 

"Alright," Alam mused, glancing at the sky. "Let’s wrap this up before dark."

 

The officer nodded, "We're on it. The sun is setting, and we're pushing to secure the base before nightfall."

 

"Good. Send a supply convoy to our front trenches. No need to worry—they won’t be sending sorties after their recent losses," Alam ordered, confidence oozing from his every pore.

 

"Yes, sir! We’ll send the convoy. Their air strike unit is in chaos and won’t risk more sorties," the officer confirmed.

 

"Exactly! And the cover of darkness will be our ally. Order the front units to dig in and hold their ground. We’ll continue the assault tomorrow. We’re getting closer to their base!" Alam commanded, feeling like he was on the cusp of a victory lap.

 

"Indeed, the darkness is our friend," the officer agreed. "Our night vision gives us the upper hand. Plus, with our diverse merc force, we’ll exploit the enemy’s weaknesses."

 

"Speaking of names, what does 'Qilong' mean?" Alam asked, curiosity piqued.

 

"General Qilong's name means 'dragon-king' in Blood Khaganate. It’s a powerful title, and his unit is known as the 'Blood Dragons'," the officer explained.

 

"Dragon, huh? I wonder what he's thinking right now," Alam mused, staring at the distant base.

 

The officer glanced at the base, noting the activity. "It’s interesting that Qilong’s forces are still trying to reinforce their base despite their retreat. Shows loyalty, or maybe just stubbornness."

 

"Yeah, loyalty from a vassal? How quaint," Alam scoffed, shaking his head.

 

"Blood Khaganate was once a small faction within China. Over time, they grew powerful by aligning with the Red Nation. Now, they have no choice but to cling to that alliance," the officer elaborated.

 

"Interesting history lesson," Alam said, patting the officer on the shoulder. "Now, I’m off to contact Baihu, the female general from the Garuda Legion."

 

As if on cue, Baihu’s image appeared on the screen. "Hello, Commander Alam! What’s your situation? Have you made progress against the Blood Khaganate?"

 

"Yeah, we’re moving forward. But I hear you’re a fan of close-quarter combat," Alam quipped.

 

"Oh, absolutely! Close quarters are the best! We have the edge in speed and agility. What's your plan, Commander? Going in for a hug, or keeping your distance?" she replied, a playful glint in her eye.

 

"We’re pretty close to their base… I can practically see their moves through binoculars," Alam said, smirking.

 

"Sounds like the battle is nearing its end. They’re reinforcing their base, but in close quarters, they’re toast. They can’t match our speed," Baihu observed.

 

"Well... can I borrow some of your strength?" Alam asked, feeling a bit shy about the request.

 

"You want our troops for your battle against the Blood Khaganate? Is this a plea for help?" Baihu teased.

 

"Yes, please!"

 

"Alright, Commander. We'll send our troops your way right now. We’ll give you the support you need to finish this battle," Baihu confirmed.

 

"Perfect! I’m actually surprised. You seem very professional right now. I was expecting more of your flirty antics," Alam confessed, raising an eyebrow.

 

"Haha! Surprise! But I’ll save the flirting for after the battle. Right now, my focus is on kicking some serious butt," Baihu replied, throwing him a wink.

 

"Alright, see you later… muah!" Alam said, blowing her a kiss.

 

"See you later, muah!" Baihu echoed back, cutting the comm with a playful smirk as she sent her troops to join the fray.

 

And just like that, the stage was set for a showdown, with Alam ready to seize victory and Baihu poised to add some flair to the fight.

Alam peered through the periscope, watching General Qilong's forces scramble to fortify their base. It was clear they weren’t about to let it go without a fight, but the disarray from their last defeat was evident. Opportunity was knocking.

 

“Any night sorties?” Alam asked a nearby mercenary.

 

“No, sir. Their air unit is still recovering from the blast. They’re probably avoiding night operations since they lack night vision gear. But we should stay alert—they might spring a surprise.”

 

“Always moving, huh?” Alam mused.

 

“They’re reinforcing defenses, sir. Their main force is in full retreat, so I doubt they'd attack tonight. But we can’t drop our guard.”

 

“Got it. Let’s form a war council,” Alam commanded over the radio.

 

The mercs gathered around, ready for Alam's next move against the Blood Khaganate army.

 

“Alright, what’s the consensus? They’re hurting after yesterday, right?”

 

“Definitely, commander. The explosion hit them hard,” said one merc.

 

“But they still have troops. We can’t underestimate them. They’re actively shoring up defenses,” another cautioned.

 

“Anyone got a headcount?” Alam pressed.

 

“Estimates suggest 400-500 troops remaining,” reported one merc. “They’re still reinforcing but it looks like they’re running low.”

 

“What’s their equipment situation?” Alam asked.

 

“Limited. They lost a lot in the last battle. Most of what they have left are basic rifles ,They’ve got a few anti-tank missiles and some armored vehicles, but that’s about it.”

 

Alam rubbed the back of his head. “So they’re lacking night vision, right? They haven’t sent any sorties at night.”

 

“Exactly, commander. We have the advantage after dark.”

 

“Alright, time for a night assault. Here’s the plan: every soldier with night vision leads a squad of 4-7 without it. We’ll use flares for distraction.”

 

“Interesting, commander. We’ll leverage our night vision while keeping them confused with flares. Great idea, sir.”

 

“Each soldier with night vision needs to coordinate. We’ll train while we wait for reinforcements.”

 

“Agreed. We’ll need to ensure everyone’s on the same page for this to work.”

 

“Any suggestions?” Alam asked.

 

“That covers it, sir. If we execute properly, we’ll have the upper hand at night,” came the reply.

 

“Let’s get this rolling,” Alam commanded.

 

“Understood. Training starts now,” the merc replied.

 

Alam switched gears, reaching out to Zhang for updates.

 

“Commander? Is your position secure?” Zhang’s voice crackled over the comm.

 

“We’re waiting for reinforcements for the final push. What’s your status?”

 

“Stable here. The enemy hasn’t committed their main force, but we repelled a special ops attack. Holding our ground while we await General Baihu’s reinforcements.”

 

“Avoid confrontation for now. Once Qilong is neutralized, we’ll move,” Alam instructed.

 

“Understood. We’ll monitor their movements closely.”

 

As Alam refocused on Qilong’s base, he noted the bustling activity within. Unlike the chaotic Blood Khaganate base, Qilong’s looked well-protected, brimming with anti-air and anti-tank defenses.

 

“Hey! Who here knows how to build a catapult?” Alam rushed into the engineer workshop.

 

“Hi, commander! We’re the engineering team. What do you need?”

 

“I want a decoy to distract their AA weapons while we launch a real attack. Can we do this?”

 

“Definitely. We can design decoy drones to mimic our aircraft and missiles, confusing their defenses.”

 

“Right! Let’s rain decoys on them!”

 

“Exactly. We’ll bombard them with decoys to overload their systems, giving our real missiles a clear path.”

 

“Make as many as you can,” Alam ordered.

 

“Understood. We’ll aim for at least two dozen decoys. We’ll stagger launches to keep them guessing.”

 

“Get to work!”

 

Days later, the engineering team confirmed they had dozens of decoys ready for action.they are mimicing bomb shell, drones. and even missiles  and for catapult they just using nearby woods from nearby trees. thanks to indiguinity of mechanic of Cyber-Brahmins' from scrap city

 

“Let’s see these babies fly!” Alam grinned.

 

The team launched a barrage of decoy missiles and aircraft, perfectly mimicking the real deal. The enemy’s anti-air systems were overwhelmed, wasting ammo on the decoys while Alam’s actual missiles sailed through largely unchallenged.

 

“Ha! Keep pouring them on! Deplete their munitions!” Alam reveled in the chaos.

 

The decoys danced across the sky, creating a spectacular distraction. The enemy’s defenses were in disarray, unable to distinguish between threat and illusion.

 

“This is beautiful… like fireworks,” Alam chuckled, watching the enemy waste resources.

 

With their real forces intact and the enemy’s defenses crumbling, Alam was poised for victory.

The enemy's anti-air missile system was in utter chaos, overwhelmed by a relentless wave of decoys. They flew at all angles, mimicking real missiles so convincingly that the enemy couldn’t tell their flares from their flesh. As the enemy wasted ammo shooting down decoys, Alam’s real missiles and aircraft slipped through unscathed.

 

“Great, just what I need—Baihu finding out about this little tactic. She'll definitely steal it,” Alam muttered.

 

The engineering team continued launching decoy after decoy, successfully keeping the enemy’s defenses busy. They were itching for Alam's go-ahead to launch the real attack.

 

“Tonight, we implement our night assault. Time to soften them up with real shells. Fingers crossed their AA guns are running on empty,” Alam ordered.

 

The engineers sprang into action, prepping the real missiles and artillery. They just needed Alam to say the word.

 

The engineering team launched the first wave of decoys. They streaked across the sky, mimicking the flight patterns of suicide drones and mortar shell with uncanny precision. On the enemy side, anti-air batteries swivelled and fired, wasting precious ammunition on the illusions. But Qilong’s officers were not entirely fooled. Some began to notice subtle discrepancies in the decoys' movements.

"Hold your fire on the small ones!" a Khaganate officer shouted over the comms. "Focus on the larger targets! Those are the real missiles!"

But it was too late. As the Khaganate gunners shifted their aim, Alam’s real missiles, hidden among the swarm of decoys, found their targets. Explosions rocked the base, destroying key defensive emplacements and sowing chaos among the enemy ranks.

the sight indeed similar how iron dome being overwhelmed on pre war conflict. but with taste of art.

“Alright! To victory! Forward!” Alam shouted, drawing his silver sword, rallying his mercenaries for one last charge.

The mercs surged forward, attacking relentlessly. They were a force of nature, smashing through the enemy’s lines. Alam monitored the radio chatter, picking up the enemy's frustrations. They were caught off-guard, and the casualties were mounting. Alam watched them jumping from trench to trench while dodging bullets and explosions. A sense of grim satisfaction settled over him. This battle was almost won. He rubbed his hand, considering the next move—reinforcements were desperately needed on the other front. He checked the intercom for a progress report. The small message of a potential desertion on the other front now flashed urgently,he need victory to boost the morale of whole front.

“hah. people always exaggerated things”

Alam watched the scene unfold. His own trench was now empty, indicating no more soldiers were available for the next wave. This was his last attack, or this would devolve into a slog—something Alam couldn't afford with his blitzkrieg style. His reputation hung in the balance

 

Chapter 30 Shaking ground

 

alam stoically watch the battlefield. until loud explosion erupted. and sound of khaganate gunfire soldier is reduced significanly.

“Interesting. What’s our status?” he inquired, eyes narrowed.

 

The mercs had full control of the area, but the enemy was still resisting, albeit weakly. Casualties were high, but they had dealt even worse damage to the enemy.

 

“Keep pushing! Rotate your shifts and watch for traps!” Alam commanded.

 

The mercenaries obeyed, maintaining pressure. After hours of conflict, morning sunlight began breaking over the horizon, revealing the battlefield's grim reality.

 

“Someone get me a visual of the battlefield!” Alam barked.

 

The mercs reported significant gains; they were encroaching on the enemy’s last bastions. Qilong's whereabouts were still a mystery, but they weren’t going to let her slip away.

 

“Find Qilong! Don’t let her get away!” Alam ordered, tapping his fingers impatiently.

 

“Damn it, I can’t sit around!” Alam decided, grabbing his suit and grenade launcher.

 

“Commander, here!” a merc handed him his gear.

 

“Let’s finish this!” Alam declared, heading to the frontline.

 

As he arrived, he witnessed the mercs applying relentless pressure, pushing the enemy back. They were battered but still holding on.

 

“Current situation?” Alam demanded.

 

The enemy was on the verge of collapse, but they were still clinging to their positions, albeit weakly.

 

“Rotate the duty! Send the reserves in! Half of the night attack soldiers back to the trenches!” Alam ordered.

 

The mercs complied, rotating in fresh troops to maintain momentum.

 

“Alright! They’re down to a few strong points left. No mercy! Flatten their buildings if we have to!” Alam shouted.

 

“Understood!” the mercs replied, concentrating their fire on the remaining enemy strongholds.

 

“Send in the flamethrower tanks!” Alam commanded with a grin.

 

The tanks rolled forward, unleashing waves of fire that scorched the enemy’s positions, forcing them to retreat into their main buildings.

 

“Hey, you!” Alam patted a nearby merc. “Still using explosives or just small arms now?”

 

“They’re low on ammo, sir. Their fire is weakening,” the merc replied.

 

“Good. Time to finish this with our armored vehicles. Move in without infantry!” Alam ordered.

 

The armored squad charged ahead, but Alam called for a tactical retreat to bait the enemy.

 

“They’re charging! They think we’re retreating! Now, attack!” Alam hollered.

 

The armored squad pivoted and opened fire, cutting down the charging enemy with devastating firepower.

 

Alam joined the fray, launching grenades at enemies hiding in ruins, his explosive rounds wreaking havoc. The battlefield was a symphony of destruction, and Alam was determined to compose the final act of victory.

“Alright, this is madness! Somebody make them surrender—use that speaker!” Alam shouted, exasperated.

 

One of the mercenaries pulled out a speaker and started blaring a surrender announcement in English. He didn’t really expect the enemy to understand—just wanted to create some confusion and maybe a little panic.

 

To everyone’s surprise, the enemy listened. They dropped their weapons and raised their hands in surrender like they were at an awkward peace rally.

 

“Great, now form a line!” Alam commanded.

 

The enemy complied, forming a line like obedient schoolchildren. Alam’s mercs kept watch, ensuring these former foes didn’t suddenly decide to play hopscotch with their weapons.

 

“Now, where is General Qilong?” Alam demanded.

 

Silence. The enemy stared blankly, as if they had suddenly forgotten how to speak. Alam sighed.

 

“Don’t torture them; it’s ineffective,” he muttered. “Someone follow me.” He headed toward a half-collapsed building.

 

One merc followed, and they cautiously navigated the ruins, Alam peering through his periscope like a reluctant tourist.

 

“Alright, let’s find the basement,” he instructed, spotting a staircase leading down.

 

As they descended, Alam remained alert, gun drawn. The basement was surprisingly intact, a stark contrast to the chaos above.

 

“This must be it. On three, we throw a flashbang and charge in. Got it?” Alam instructed his companion.

 

They counted down and threw the flashbang, which exploded with a blinding flash. Alam charged in, shouting, “Drop your guns or die!”

 

The disoriented enemy, still dazed from the flashbang, complied, raising their hands in confusion.

 

“Good. Collect their weapons while I aim my gun at them,” Alam ordered.

 

As the mercs gathered the enemy’s guns, Alam turned the pressure up. “Who is Qilong? Where is she?”

 

The enemies looked nervously at one another, clearly hesitant to answer. Alam fired a warning shot into the ground.

 

“Qilong must be nearby,” he said, watching them jump.

 

“Your force is decimated!” he added, sensing their morale plummeting.

 

Panic spread among the enemy ranks. They whispered to each other, eyes darting nervously.

 

“Look, in the past, I’d torture you one by one. Just be a good boy and tell me what I want,” Alam threatened, relishing their fear.

 

They huddled together, whispering like school kids trying to decide who would take the blame for the broken vase.

 

“Alright, I’m just trying to be a nice guy. Last chance before someone else arrives,” Alam said, smirking as he prepared to leave.

 

With nothing but silence as his answer, Alam stepped out, leaving the mercs to deal with the anxious lot.

 

Back at his tent, Alam relaxed for a moment. “That engineer’s device is definitely working. Send supplies to Feihong’s front to help Zhang. Implement the same decoy tactics while we recover.”

 

The merc operator nodded and got to work, ensuring the chaos would continue to unfurl in their favor.

Alam picked up the radio, his impatience palpable. “Well, girl, why’s it taking so long? We’ve already cleaned out Qilong’s base. Only Feihong left!”

 

Baihu's voice crackled through. “We’re moving forward, but there are still enemy positions to clear. The flydecoy unit is working its magic, but it’s a slog. We’ll get to Feihong, but obstacles abound.”

 

“Oh, you’ve seen the flying decoys? Hehe, good! Just take care of business; my main force will join the fun soon!” Alam replied, a grin creeping across his face.

 

“Copy that. We’ll hold the line for your grand entrance,” Baihu confirmed.

 

“Gott bless. Out.” Alam ordered his troops to loot Qilong's base and set explosives, ensuring the prisoners got a front-row seat to the destruction.

 

Hours later, after the looting was done and explosives were set, Alam stood before the line of prisoners. “Okay, folks, you ready for some fireworks?”

 

The prisoners shuffled nervously, eyes wide with fear. Alam chuckled at their dread. “Make sure those eyes are wide open!” He pressed the detonator.

 

The base erupted in a massive fireball, sending debris flying. The prisoners watched, terror etched on their faces, as their former stronghold was reduced to rubble.

 

“Now, how about I put some of that boom right at your feet?” Alam teased,

 

Their fear intensified. They knew he could easily follow through. “Where's Qilong?” Alam demanded.

 

One prisoner stammered, “She’s... near here.”

 

“Lead me to her... wait, she’s a woman?”

 

The prisoner pointed to a room amidst the wreckage. “She’s inside that room!”

 

“Okay, squad, check it out!” Alam ordered, and they approached cautiously.

 

As they peered into the room, it was eerily quiet. “Report!” he barked into the radio.

 

“Sir, no sign of Qilong. It’s empty. Odd, considering the intel,” the squad leader replied.

 

“Keep looking!” Alam insisted.

 

“Checking for hidden rooms now,” the squad leader responded.

 

After a thorough search, they found a secret door behind the carpet. “Sir, we found a hidden room!”

 

“Good. Proceed with caution,” Alam instructed.

 

The squad advanced carefully, and soon they spotted a figure cowering in the corner. “Report!”

 

“We’ve located Qilong,” the squad leader confirmed.

 

“Jackpot! Bring her out—no, I mean, bring her outside!” Alam laughed.

 

They dragged Qilong from her hiding spot, she was a old woman with dark military uniform, her expression is clear. a expression once a fierce general now without a single troops and weapons, then Alam sized her up. “Alright, are you Qilong?”

 

“Y-yes, I am Qilong,” she stammered.

 

“Welcome to the party! You’re my prisoner now!” Alam grinned, enjoying her nervousness.

 

“Before we get cozy, what’s Feihong?” he pressed.

 

“Feihong is a territory of the Red Nation, a major stronghold,” Qilong replied, clearly anxious.

 

“So, it’s not a general’s name, but a province?” Alam tilted his head, feigning confusion.

 

“Yes, it’s a territory crucial for the Red Nation, serving as a gateway to Central Asia,” she clarified.

 

“Thanks! Now, enjoy your fate as my captive!” Alam said cheerfully.

 

Qilong couldn’t hide her fear as she faced her uncertain future.

 

“Oh, and one more thing: Who’s the big cheese in Feihong?” Alam asked.

 

“General Zhang. He’s in charge there,” Qilong answered, resigned to her new reality.

 

“Zhang who?” Alam probed.

 

Qilong hesitated before answering, “General Zhang, the leader and governor of Feihong. He commands all Red Nation forces in the territory.”

 

“I see… what a coincidence! One of my officers attacking Feihong is named Zhang too,” Alam smirked.

 

“Really? Your officer’s named Zhang too?” Qilong replied, eyebrows raised in surprise.

 

“Yep. Funny fate, huh?” Alam grinned.

 

Qilong shot back, sarcasm dripping from her voice, “Oh, yes, really funny—so funny that I’m your prisoner.”

 

“Don’t worry; war is always unpredictable.” Alam nodded to his mercs. “Take her away.”

 

The mercs grabbed Qilong firmly, leading her off without resistance. She followed, knowing that causing trouble would only make matters worse. qilong was surprisely compliant. perhaps the crack within khaganate is indeed not a rumor.

With Qilong secured, Alam raised his hands to the sky, closing his eyes for a moment.

 The quiet was broken by his intercom. A message from Bayarl Khan of the Golden Caravan: a military donation, and a demand for a meeting regarding equipment accusations. Alam narrowed his eyes. “Yellow Nation… old rivals,” he muttered, glancing north, towards Zhang and Jax’s struggling front. “Looks like my reward for winning is more work.”

The black Hind carried him west, over Carpathia—the familiar medieval towns and monuments a blur below. Then, Yellow Nation territory.

Crossing the designated border checkpoint was like stepping into a different world. Gone were the static fortifications; here, the landscape undulated in shades of ochre, dust plumes swirling on the horizon, kicked up by a constant flow of movement.

Caravans dominated the scene. Towering mobile fortresses rumbled past, bristling with armored vehicles and artillery. Soldiers in olive fatigues stood watch, faces stoic behind visors. Smaller caravans, carrying merchants, nomadic families, and artisans, weaved through the dust haze. The air vibrated with a cacophony of languages, bartered deals, and the thump of traditional music. Scattered camps dotted the horizon, herds of livestock grazing under the watchful eyes of mounted scouts. The Yellow Nation was a nation perpetually on the move.

Patrolling armored vehicles carved through the dust clouds, and checkpoints, manned by grim-faced soldiers, punctuated the landscape. But amidst the military presence, there were the "ramblers"—individuals and small groups on foot, easily identified by their colorful garb and souvenir-laden packs.

One such rambler, sporting a particularly flamboyant pointy hat, approached Alam as he dismounted. "Greetings, traveler! Perhaps a trinket to commemorate your journey? A small purchase brings good fortune, a larger one… well, let's just say it opens doors to certain… exclusive areas," he winked, a sly grin spreading across his face.

Alam, checking his chronometer, sighed. "Don't have much time, but… I might be persuaded."

"Excellent, excellent! A discerning customer! What treasures catch your eye?" The rambler gestured to his stall, a chaotic display of cheap plastic souvenirs and gaudy trinkets. Fake golden horse statues gleamed under the harsh sun.

"Got anything… practical?" Alam asked, eyeing a particularly garish plastic horse. "Something for writing?"

"Ah, a man of letters! Of course!" The rambler produced a yellow fountain pen, a crudely etched golden horse icon on the barrel along with the words "A Gift from Golden Horse." It looked like it had been fished out of a bargain bin. "This, my friend, is a relic. A gift from the Golden Horse himself! Pure gold nib, guaranteed to write for a thousand years! A mere 199 credits."

Alam raised an eyebrow. "One credit."

The rambler recoiled as if struck. "One credit?! You wound me! This is a masterpiece! 190 – I'm practically giving it away!"

Alam shrugged. “Never mind. Got any fireworks?”

The rambler’s face lit up. “Fireworks? My friend, you’ve come to the right place! The best in the Yellow Nation! Explosions, colors, designs… I have it all!” He pulled out a large crate overflowing with fireworks—rockets, sparklers, fountains, and packs labeled "Golden Horse Firecrackers." “For a discerning customer like yourself… 40 credits.”

Alam considered the crate. It was a good price, and he had a use for a distraction. “Deal.” He handed over the credits.

The rambler beamed, handing over the crate. “Excellent! You won’t regret this! Just… be careful. These are powerful. And… perhaps keep them away from any… sensitive areas.” He winked again, a knowing look in his eye.

Alam hoisted the crate. "Thanks. I'll keep that in mind." He turned to leave.

"Anytime, friend. Remember, if you need more souvenirs, you know where to find me. Enjoy the fireworks, and be sure to spread the word about my shop. Safe travels!” He gave one last, lingering wink.

As Alam walked away, he heard the rambler muttering to himself, “Forty credits for those old things… should have asked for fifty.”

 

As Alam made his way to the center of the Yellow Nation, the terrain shifted from rolling hills to an urbanized landscape. Yellow tents gave way to larger canvas and bamboo structures.

He arrived at a vast clearing, a bustling marketplace surrounding the Khan’s mobile capital, the Golden Horse. It was a moving city, a military base, a symbol of the Yellow Nation's might. The steel tracks stretched into the horizon, carriages like grand pavilions on wheels. The Khan's own pavilion dominated the complex.

Alam parked his hovercraft and was met by a wary guard who checked his identification.

"You're here for the Khan," the guard grunted, then led Alam through the labyrinthine corridors of the Golden Horse. Vendors, merchants, and patrolling soldiers filled the passageways. They reached the central pavilion, a lavish display of wealth. Silk tapestries lined the walls, intricate carpets covered the floor, and golden trinkets adorned the corners. In the center sat Bayarl Khan.

"Hello, old man," Alam said, striding in.

Bayarl Khan raised his gaze from a stack of paperwork, his eyes meeting Alam's. "The Second Leader of the Wanderers. Alam. Formidable and reckless, I hear."

"Funny you wanted to meet in person," Alam said, taking a seat. "Thought you might want to strangle me yourself."

Bayarl Khan smirked. "I assure you, I have no such desire. Yet. I wished to discuss a matter of great importance to both our factions."

"Enemy of my enemy, and all that," Alam said. "Kinda makes us asshole friends, doesn't it?"

Bayarl Khan chuckled. "You're direct, Alam. I appreciate that. We share a mutual enemy."

"Right," Alam said. "But you see… aren't you worried about escalation? Red Nation mercs are everywhere."

"I'm aware of their presence," Bayarl Khan said. "Their influence is… contained. They are a threat, but not yet one we cannot handle. Escalation is a concern, but we are prepared."

Alam rubbed the back of his neck. "Prepared for what? World War Four?"

Bayarl Khan paused. "It's a delicate subject. Suffice to say, the situation is tense. Many prepare for conflict. If things worsen… it could become inevitable."

"Is there no other way?" Alam asked.

Bayarl Khan sighed. "I wish there were. But diplomacy has failed. Those who crave power understand only strength. War has become… necessary."

Alam rubbed his chin. "I think… intervention in the Red Nation government might offer a solution. At least… reduce the carnage."

Bayarl Khan's eyes narrowed. "Intervene? That's… risky. It could provoke retaliation from them, or even other factions. Are we prepared for that? Why would they listen to us?"

"At least their leader isn't a zealot," Alam shrugged, a slight smile playing on his lips.

Bayarl Khan chuckled. "So it's the leader, not the faction. You believe a… more reasonable leader would be preferable."

"It's a gamble," Alam admitted. "It could backfire spectacularly. A more fanatical faction could rise, or a rogue general. But… empires have pulled it off before. Even the US, before its collapse."

Bayarl Khan nodded slowly. "You speak truth. It is a gamble. But… perhaps a necessary one."

Alam rubbed his forehead. "Anyway… let's get the paperwork done. I have a war to win in the East."

Bayarl Khan gestured to several documents on the table. "Of course. Time is of the essence."

After the paperwork was completed, Alam stretched. "Well," he said, turning serious again. "We're rubbing each other's backs again, old man."

Bayarl Khan chuckled. "Old partners in chaos. We've had our differences, but we've also supported each other when it mattered. A strange relationship, but… one I value."

"Alright," Alam said. "Farewell. Maybe we'll meet again in… heaven or something."

Bayarl Khan grinned. "Indeed. Let us hope Heaven welcomes us. Until then, may fortune favor us."

Alam nodded, raising his hand. "Assalamu alaykum." He turned to leave.

Bayarl Khan returned the gesture. "Wa alaykum assalam." He watched Alam go, his mind already returning to the matters at hand.

Chapter 31 Desert winds

Feihong stands as a vibrant blend of Chinese and Mongolian cultures, a testament to resilience after the great flood that rendered many coastal cities uninhabitable. While advanced cities like Hong Kong and Beijing managed to reclaim their lands, others fell into disarray, prompting people to move inland and establish new settlements. Among these, Feihong emerged as the most advanced city, making its capture a significant blow to the Khaganate.

 

In the backdrop, the Yellow Nation, also known as the Golden Caravan in Europe, supports the Wanderer cause but hesitates to fully commit, wary of escalating tensions in the region. Alam understands that a decisive victory against the Khaganate could sway the Yellow Nation to back them more openly or potentially curbing the Red Nation's aggression.

 

However, Alam's allies express concern over his grand ambitions, viewing them as overly idealistic. While Alam may believe that his actions are necessary to secure peace and stability in the region, they are almost certain to have the opposite effect.

 

Just then, Ali, a tribal warlord, enters Alam's tent. "In this world, power is all that matters. The strong survive, and the weak are left to fend for themselves. Anarchy is just a natural state of being."

 

Alam's internal thoughts: “Anarchy breeds suffering,” Alam muttered to himself, Ali’s words echoing in his mind. He looked at the map, his gaze fixed on Feihong. This wasn't about conquest; it was about establishing order, a bulwark against the chaos that threatened to consume them all.

 

In late July 2401, Alam split his army to reinforce Zhang's position while the rest carried heavy supplies. As they approached Feihong, the red nation colonial city. zion domain in oversea.  alam addressed the vanguard. “Alright, boys, slow down the convoy. Scouts ahead. Baihu reports high enemy activity.”

 

The vanguard slowed and sent scouts to ensure the path was clear. Alam braced for any threats lurking in Feihong territory.

 

“Tell Zhang to secure the road ahead,” he ordered.

 

Zhang received the message and fortified the route with mines and machine guns, preparing for an enemy encounter.

 

“Good…” Alam contacted Baihu. “Where are you?”

 

“We're on the west side of Feihong. Large enemy forces marching toward us. What’s your position?” Baihu replied.

 

“West? We’re in the south. Dig in—we’ll flank them!” Alam commanded.

 

Baihu relayed the order, and her team began digging in to prepare for an ambush.

 

“Okay, may Gott bless us.” Alam turned to his soldiers. “Full speed! Scouts, double time!”

 

The scouts sped ahead, covering the vanguard’s flanks to spot any enemy forces.

 

“Inform our gun convoy to deploy,” Alam instructed.

 

The artillery and supply convoy readied themselves for battle, setting up positions to support the vanguard.

 

“Now, if our flank works, we’re definitely in God’s favor,” Alam sighed, tension rising.

 

“Report!” he called into the radio.

 

“We’re under heavy fire, multiple enemy forces attacking from all directions!” Baihu replied, her voice strained.

 

“Give us grid coordinates! We’ve got artillery!” Alam shouted.

 

Baihu provided the coordinates. “Grid: 10° 40 mins, 24° 10 mins. Enemy position: 30° 25 mins, 27° 7 mins. Heavily armed and fortified.”

 

“Dig in. I’m sending coordinates to artillery!” Alam ordered.The artillery team sprang into action, preparing to rain fire on the enemy.

 

The region had turned into a dust-filled haze, littered with remnants of both current and ancient wars, including the devastation of WW3. As they passed by wrecks and ghost towns, the soldiers began to waver, confronted by the horrorscape before them. A few distant explosions sent them diving for cover, their nerves fraying.

 

“Form a wedge! Tanks in front, infantry right behind!” Alam commanded.

 

The units quickly fell into formation, ready for the clash. “Infantry, don’t dismount until I say!”

 

Alam knew that engaging the enemy too soon would cost them the element of surprise. He stacked the soldiers, holding them back like waiting for the perfect moment to say "boo" in a prank.

 

As they closed in on the enemy, Alam tapped the driver and declared, “This is it…” Suddenly, smoke erupted ahead. “Stop!” he shouted, but the units froze, caught in a tug-of-war between fear and duty. “Keep moving!” he barked, pushing them forward. “Steady… just follow my lead!”

 

With adrenaline pumping, they reached the enemy position. “Tanks, keep rolling; infantry, hold tight!”

 

Alam scanned the enemy's heavy weaponry and took a deep breath. “Tanks, smoke screens! Infantry, dismount!” The tanks unleashed a cloud of smoke, and the infantry sprang into action.

 

“Now attack!” Alam yelled, diving into the fray as the vanguard charged, overwhelming enemy defenses. He fired his rifle, leading the assault while artillery rained down, turning the enemy into a smoldering mess.

 

“Adjust artillery coordinates!” he commanded, and the gunners complied, blasting the opposition into submission. “Watch them burn…” he grinned, taking cover to savor the chaos. “Alright, gentlemen, let’s clean up the scraps!” he ordered, launching the pursuit of fleeing foes.

 

Baihu’s voice crackled through the radio: “The enemy is heavily suppressed. Many are fleeing. We’re clearing the area.”

 

“Good. We’re in the south—check your fire,” Alam instructed, feeling relieved.

 

“Thanks, Gott. We made it!” he said, returning to his vehicle. “Don’t chase the enemy too far!”

 

The vanguard halted their pursuit, regrouping with Baihu’s forces.

 

“Where’s your general?” Alam asked as Baihu rode up on her horse.

 

“General Zhang is in the command vehicle, overseeing operations,” she replied.

 

“Not you, girl,” Alam smirked.

 

Baihu laughed, realizing his jest. “Oh, me? I’m a colonel, second-in-command. Zhang is experienced and has been planning this operation.”

 

“Got it. So, Zhang absorbed you into his forces. Smart move; we don’t need a split command,” Alam noted.

 

“It’s actually beneficial. Our units are stronger together, and we can leverage each other’s experience,” Baihu explained.

 

“Perfect! Let’s keep this momentum going!” Alam declared, ready for the next phase of their campaign.

Later, General Zhang commended, “I see you’ve repelled the enemy and linked up with Baihu’s forces. Well done! Don’t worry; my units are escorting the artillery to you now. Just keep the area secure and prevent any enemy infiltration.”

 

“Don’t worry about it,” Alam replied nonchalantly, then turned to Baihu. “Did you know the leader of Feihong is also named Zhang? Just like my officer. Funny coincidence, right?”

 

Baihu raised an eyebrow. “Ah, that’s interesting. Yes, the leader of Feihong is named Zhang too. he’s ambitious, ruthless,

 

“Great, tell me more about this Feihong region,” Alam urged.

 

Baihu took a moment to think. “Feihong covers a large part of Central Asia. It’s rich in resources and strategically vital. The leader is cutthroat, leading her private armies to invade any territory he deems important.”

 

“Sounds like we’re already at war with the Red Nation, then. I captured Qilong, who confirmed it,” Alam said.

 

Baihu nodded. “Correct and zhang is pulling the strings.”

 

“Alright, our mission now is to capture Red Zhang to end this war. For clarity, let’s call the Red Nation's Zhang ‘Red Zhang’ and my officer ‘Blue Zhang’ to avoid confusion.”

 

Baihu chuckled. “Good idea! That’ll definitely help keep things straight.”

 

“Okay, we’ll take down Red Zhang, and I’ll have Blue Zhang operate the artillery while we push forward,” Alam planned.

 

Baihu agreed, “Yes, and I’ll provide support as well. Together, we can hopefully capture Red Zhang and end this conflict.”

 

“However, we still lack intel on the region. We need more eyes before we proceed. Let’s regroup and camp for the night,” Alam suggested.

 

Baihu nodded, and they set up camp, securing the area with sentries while the troops rested.

 

 

 

A few days later, as they advanced deeper into enemy territory, Alam studied the map in his command vehicle. “Baihu, does this area have any major cities?”

 

“Yes, there are several. The two largest are Yili in Uigurstan and Karaxung in Karakhon City. They’re crucial to the region, after great flood people flock in those big city” Baihu replied.

 

“Perfect. I’ll send my best spies, Li and Mei, to gather intel on both cities,” Alam decided, dispatching them immediately.

 

Meanwhile, he pondered, “I plan to position us between the two cities for quick reactions. But it could be dangerous if Red Zhang has multiple armies.”

 

Baihu considered this. “That’s a solid plan. It allows us to respond quickly, but we should be ready to split our forces if needed.”

 

“Exactly. Our eyes are key to victory. We can hold the middle ground and have Blue Zhang flank any enemies that try to attack us,” Alam strategized.

 

Baihu agreed, “Good idea. Keeping our forces centralized while having Blue Zhang as backup will strengthen our position.”

 

The officers exchanged nods, all in agreement with the plan and ready to contribute ideas.

 

“Okay then, let’s move out!” Alam commanded.

 

After reaching their destination, they set up camp in a secure location between the two cities, ready to await intel from Li and Mei. the place is desolate. and dry. since war broke they lost powergrid to irrigate the region.

 

“Alright, another waiting game,” Alam sighed. “Did you know that army life is 10% fighting and 90% waiting? Heh. Let’s see how our patrol and spies play this out.”

 

Baihu chuckled. “Yeah, I know—patience is key. We just have to endure the boredom and wait for reports to come in. Hopefully, they’ll make our mission easier.”

 

“Boredom is a state of mind,” Alam replied, a smirk on his face. “I could be reading or writing to pass the time.”

 

Baihu smiled. “True. I don’t mind the waiting either; I’ll just write while we wait. It’s a good way to kill time.”

 

“Oh? What are you writing?” Alam asked.

 

Baihu looked up from her paper. “I’m writing poetry. It’s a hobby of mine.”

 

“Poetry? Let’s hear one!” Alam urged.

 

Baihu nodded and read aloud:

 

"Gloom fills the sky, 

The light of hope is fading away, 

The shadow of darkness spreads over the land, 

The endless night of sorrow seems to never end..."

 

“Hmm. It’s good but kinda gloomy, heh,” Alam remarked.

 

“Yeah, I guess I was feeling down when I wrote it,” Baihu admitted, chuckling.

 

“Here, have some chocolate,” Alam offered. “Don’t worry; everything will be over soon, with Gott’s help… or at least de-escalate.”

 

Baihu smiled, accepting the chocolate. “Thanks! You’re right; I should stay positive. We just need to focus on gathering intel.”

 

After a few days of tense waiting, reports finally came in from their intel units.

 

Li’s spy unit was first to deliver intel. “There’s a large enemy force in Uigurstan, preparing to launch an attack and recruiting local militia.”

 

“Ah, so they’re trying to beef up their numbers,” Alam noted. “Let them come. Dig in and build more trenches. We’ll welcome them. Meanwhile, send our mobile unit to hide and block their retreat when the attack happens.”

 

Baihu nodded, issuing orders for the troops to fortify. “Got it. We’ll prepare for their attack and set up our ambush.”

 

“Also, build decoy guns and bunkers. We need to trick them into thinking we have a full defense,” Alam added.

 

Baihu directed the engineers to create decoys, while Alam thought ahead. “Let’s dig a square ditch big enough for a tank to hide. Can we manage that?”

 

The engineers confirmed it was doable. “Good. Dig it right in front of our trenches. When they focus their fire on us, our hidden tanks will rush out and surprise them.”

 

The engineers got to work, digging furiously as Alam summoned a war council. “Alright, folks, if you were Red Zhang, which side would you attack from?”

 

The officers quickly brainstormed, agreeing on a likely attack point.

 

“Excellent. Prepare for a counterattack. Remember, we’re dealing with militia; they’ll scatter if we hit them hard and fast. Don’t just give them the usual banter,” Alam advised.

 

The officers agreed to use only veteran mercs for the counterattack to ensure effectiveness.

 

“Waiting is dangerous,” Alam declared. “Let’s have a feast tonight! We need to boost morale for tomorrow.”

 

The camp buzzed with excitement, soldiers eager to celebrate before the impending battle. As evening fell, they gathered for a lively feast, sharing stories and laughter, the tension momentarily forgotten.

 

In the camp office, Alam handled paperwork when a message from the Wanderer popped up. He chuckled at the friendly distraction and replied, “Sure, Wanderer. Let’s chat—could use some fun while we wait for the enemy to attack.”

 

He hit send and sipped coffee, observing his troops. Some wore nervous expressions, while the seasoned veterans exuded calm confidence, having faced this uncertainty before. The atmosphere was electric, a mix of anticipation and camaraderie as they prepared for the days ahead. the ration is changed a bit. a smal dip of meat. that is luxury items.

 

He drew out the fireworks he’d bought from the Golden Caravan, a small, almost childish gesture against the backdrop of war. He handed a few to a nearby soldier. "Light 'em up," he said, a faint smile playing on his lips. The fireworks erupted in the afternoon sky, bursts of color against the fading light. It was a foolish decision, a blatant display of their position. But never mind. The soldiers were happy, and they were well entrenched. Let them come. As the last firework faded, alam look at horizon. wondering if someone take a bait or not

Chapter 32 Rise of True horde

Days crawled by after the feast, and the soldiers dug in, fortifying defenses and anxiously waiting for the enemy to make their move. Despite the monotony, spirits remained high. The younger troops fidgeted with nerves, while the veterans exuded calm confidence, reminding them that patience is part of the game.

 

“Hmm… this is taking longer than expected,” Alam mused. “Let’s get a bit aggressive—send out a raiding party!”

 

Baihu nodded, dispatching the raiding party to gather intel and boost morale. They set off to catch the enemy off-guard and report back on the enemy's position.

 

“Proceed,” Alam ordered.

 

The raiding party returned, revealing that the enemy was indeed recruiting local militia and caught off-guard by the raid. “Looks like Red Zhang is playing it safe,” Alam noted. “We need to give them a false sense of security to make our plan work.”

 

“Agreed,” Baihu replied. “What’s the plan?”

 

“Let’s send a truck full of dummies and fake guns to Blue Zhang’s area. We’ll make it look like we’re reducing our forces,” Alam suggested with a sly grin.

 

Baihu chuckled and agreed. Soon, the truck rolled out, leaving the enemy thinking they had the upper hand.

 

“Now, how about we build a fake base a few kilometers away?” Alam added. “They’ll think we’ve split our army!”

 

Baihu quickly ordered the construction of a fake base, designed to mimic their real one. “This should keep them guessing,” she said.

 

“Let’s see how Red Zhang reacts,” Alam said, rubbing his hands together.

 

The fake base was completed, and they waited for the enemy's response, which, surprisingly, never came.

 

“Alright, time for the final act. Bombard their city—but stick to the industrial areas,” Alam commanded.

 

Baihu relayed the order, and the artillery roared to life, hitting the industrial sector and causing chaos. “Let’s see if they bite,” Alam smirked.

 

“They’re not retaliating,” Baihu reported, a hint of disbelief in her voice.

 

“Looks like they want us to attack first. Prepare the IFVs and off-road jeeps. Armor them up!” Alam ordered, excitement building.

 

As the modified vehicles rolled out, Alam climbed onto one. “We’re striking first! On my mark—forward!”

 

With Baihu alongside him, the assault beganThe modified vehicles roared across the cracked earth, The first shots cracked like thunder, sending startled birds scattering from the skeletal remains of bombed-out buildings. Red Zhang's forces, caught mid-deployment, scrambled for cover, their lines breaking under the sudden onslaught.

 

“Baihu, report!” Alam shouted over the chaos.

 

“All clear! The attack is going well; they’re still unprepared. We’ve hit their industrial area and pushed deep into the city,” she replied confidently.

 

“Don’t get cocky! If your units start taking heavy losses, fall back immediately,” Alam warned.

 

“Understood. We’ll stay alert and regroup if needed,” Baihu assured him.

 

“Good. Hold your ground,” Alam commanded, keeping the IFVs stationed at the city’s outskirts.

 

“Any sign of a counterattack?” he inquired, watching the unfolding situation.

 

Baihu monitored the enemy closely. “So far, they’re just digging in, trying to fortify their defenses. No counterattack yet—they're probably waiting for reinforcements.”

 

“Ugh, city battles. I hate them. I want to lure Red Zhang into our trenches. Any ideas?” Alam grumbled.

 

Baihu perked up. “How about we use a modified IFV as bait? We can make it look like a lone suicide mission. Red Zhang will think we’re sending in just one vehicle while we ambush him from the trenches.”

 

“Ehh... that could work. Let’s rig a remote-controlled IFV with some enemy bodies and explosives for a little fireworks show. They love fireworks; it'll boost their morale to attack us!” Alam suggested, a mischievous glint in his eye.

 

Baihu grinned and sprang into action, ordering the setup of the tricked-out IFV. Soon, the bait was ready, and the modified vehicle rolled out for its “suicide attack,” enticing Red Zhang to take the bait.

 

“Let’s see if they bite,” Alam said, rubbing his hands together as the IFV lured the enemy in like a moth to a flame.

 

As Red Zhang took the bait, Alam shouted, “All-out attack!”

 

The Wanderer Group soldiers in the trenches sprang to life, unleashing a torrent of gunfire on the unsuspecting Red Zhang troops, who were caught in a whirlwind of chaos.

 

“Now, let’s block the city roads. Don’t let them escape!” Alam commanded, and the mobile units sprang into action, sealing off the escape routes.

 

“Final push! It’s time to deliver a devastating blow and end this!” Alam urged as the counterattack unit moved in, ready to decimate the weakened enemy.

 

“Anyone got a battle vision?” Alam called out, peering through the chaos.

 

One soldier quickly activated the battle vision, displaying a massacre unfolding outside. “This isn’t a battle; it’s a slaughter!” Alam exclaimed, his eyes wide.

 

“They’ve even stopped firing back! Cease fire!” he ordered, realizing the tide had turned.

 

The order was relayed, and the onslaught halted. The Red Zhang troops, now in total disarray, panicked and began to flee.

 

“Mobile unit, chase them down! Urge them to surrender!” Alam commanded, as his forces pursued the panicking enemy.

 

“Block their route! Tanks and IFVs, cavalry forward!” he urged, mobilizing his forces to seal the deal.

 

“Okay, infantry, secure the city while we hunt down the remaining Red Zhang!” Alam shouted, rallying his troops.

 

“Relay my message in different languages: ‘Stop running or die!’” he instructed.

 

As the message echoed, the Red Zhang troops fell into chaos, scrambling for cover. Some surrendered, while others fled in a panic.

 

“Alright, run over the ones still resisting. No mercy!” Alam ordered, and the mobile unit complied, crushing the fleeing Red Zhang under their wheels.

 

“They’re just stubborn and stupid,” Alam remarked, mounting a machine gun on the IFV. “Aim for their legs! Make sure they can’t run again!”

 

Most of the Khaganate soldiers didn’t even fire their guns; they just took off, showing they were mostly recruits. The language barrier made it tough for their officers to command them effectively. The desert was littered with dead bodies, but some were lucky enough to be captured by the Wanderers.

 

After the slaughter, Alam ordered the wounded to be taken prisoner and a makeshift hospital set up for treatment. “Let’s dominate this city. Cavalry, forward!” he commanded.

 

“Mostly contained, just small pockets left. No major attacks yet,” an officer reported.

 

“Let’s assert our dominance. Capture strong points and claim this city!” Alam declared.

 

With his orders ringing in the air, the Wanderer Group moved to secure the government office, driving toward their prize.

 

“Ram the gate!” Alam shouted as they arrived, and the driver complied, slamming into the entrance.

 

“Infantry, secure the building!” he commanded as the soldiers stormed the government office, ready to take control.

 

“Alright, send a squad to secure the other buildings and get snipers in position,” Alam ordered, scanning the battlefield.

 

The Wanderer Group quickly dispatched squads to every building, setting snipers in place to provide long-range support against Red Zhang and his elite guards. With their defenses bolstered, they braced for the inevitable confrontation.

 

“Now let’s secure this building!” Alam declared, charging up the stairs.

 

Reaching the top floor, Alam found Zhang’s elite guards already on alert. Guns raised, they opened fire.

 

“Sniper team, are you in position?” Alam shouted over the chaos.

 

“Affirmative!” came the reply. The snipers were ready to rain down fire.

 

“Good! Shoot anything that moves!” Alam commanded.

 

The sniper team complied, unleashing a hail of bullets as Alam’s squad charged toward Zhang.

 

“Jax, send in some heavy machine guns for suppressive fire!” Alam radioed.

 

“On it!” Jax replied, and soon the heavy machine gun team was laying down intense fire to cover the advance.

 

“Let’s wait until they soften up a bit,” Alam said, holding back his squad as the machine guns and snipers kept the pressure on.

 

“Cease fire! Aim RPGs at the top floor. Fire seven rounds simultaneously!” Alam ordered.

 

The team complied, and a barrage of RPGs flew toward the elite guards, creating chaos and confusion.

 

“Alright, gentlemen! Now it’s our turn!” Alam shouted, tossing a grenade as he charged up the staircase.

 

With a deafening boom, Alam and his squad rushed into close-quarters combat with Zhang’s guards. Bullets flew, and chaos reigned as they engaged in a fierce battle.

 

“They’re dug in well, but they’re just using small arms!” Alam strategized. “Position the heavy machine guns on the other building and pierce through the walls!”

 

The units quickly complied, redirecting their heavy fire toward Zhang’s position.

 

“Okay, let’s slowly advance,” Alam ordered, throwing down green smoke for cover.

 

Half an hour later, the fight was still brutal, with neither side gaining the upper hand. Alam called for an update on the situation outside.

 

“Most buildings are secured, and we’ve blocked reinforcements for Zhang,” an officer reported. “Citizens are safe in secured zones, supporting our operation.”

 

“Time for a little psychological warfare,” Alam said, grabbing a speaker. “Zhang, you’re completely surrounded. Surrender now!”

 

Zhang’s defiant reply echoed back: “We’ll never surrender! We’re the elite of the Red Nation, and we’ll fight to the last man!”

 

“Fine, suit yourself,” Alam said, tossing the speaker aside. “Everyone out! Plant bombs on the pillars!”

 

The Wanderer Group quickly exited and planted explosives, bracing for the big finale.

 

“Last chance, Zhang! Surrender or this will be your grave!” Alam taunted through the speaker.

 

“Never! We’ll die fighting!” Zhang shot back.

 

“As you wish,” Alam smirked, handing the detonator to Baihu. “Make it a fireworks show!”

 

Baihu pressed the button, and the building erupted in a spectacular explosion, collapsing dramatically as red Zhang and his guards were trapped inside.

 

“Let’s make this a war memorial” Alam tone shift into melancolic, tossing debris aside to mark the spot. he then sigh, remember the slaughter of the poor recruit. and now die hard patriotic bastard. this is why better to not know much about your enemy in war. its will easier if you just kill. without know.

 

The troops complied, creating a makeshift monument from the rubble,

 

“Okay... I’m feeling conflicted,” Alam admitted, rubbing his head. “But hey, we won!”

 

With the operation complete, the Wanderer Group celebrated their success in unifying the city under one banner, victorious and unscathed.

 

On November 1st, 2401, the winter winds howled through Central Asia as Alam returned to his new base in Ruyi City, once another Khaganate territory. Eleanor waited for him in his office, a map of the newly conquered territories spread across the table. The city itself bore the scars of war, but signs of rebuilding were already visible. Citizens moved about their daily lives, albeit with a cautious optimism. Wanderer patrols kept a watchful eye, but there was no sense of oppression, only a quiet acceptance of the new order.

“Finally,” Alam said, opening his arms slightly as he entered. “We took our lands back… and beyond. What's the scoop on our new territory?”

Eleanor smiled, gesturing to the map. “It’s stabilizing. The citizens are cooperating, grateful for the protection. The unification process is going smoothly. No major incidents.” She pointed to a section of the map where the Garuda Legion's former territory was now marked with the Wanderer symbol. “Baihu’s Legion has been fully integrated. She’s officially one of us now.”

Alam blinked, his gaze sweeping across the vast expanse of territory now under his control. The recent victory had indeed given him a significant chunk of the eastern wasteland. It made sense for Baihu to consolidate her power, but something about Eleanor’s tone made him wonder if there was more to the story. He looked back at her.

“Perfect,” Alam said, a thoughtful expression on his face. The sheer size of their new holdings made the threat of retaliation from the Red Nation all the more real. He stabbed a dagger into a drawing of the Red Nation flag on the map. “In peacetime, we prepare for the next war. We need to form a confederation—a true horde. It’ll be our bulwark against any Red Nation retaliation.”

“Sounds like a solid plan for expansion,” Eleanor agreed. “It’ll protect our holdings and strengthen our influence in the region.”

 

“Right. But I’ve noticed my forces are pretty diverse. Some are warlike, others more calm. What’s your take?” Alam asked.

 

“Diversity is our strength! We just need to ensure the warlike forces align with our culture, while the calmer troops help them adapt,” Eleanor suggested.

 

“Meanwhile,” Alam said, glancing at a map of Asia, “as we build our territory, we should expand. What do you think?”

 

Eleanor nodded. “While consolidating our new territory, we can also explore expansion into neighboring regions—either through persuasion or military strength.”

 

“Need to recruit more officers. Any names come to mind?” Alam asked.

 

“Sure! We can look at promising soldiers from our campaigns. I recommend Yang, Zao, and Feng—they’ve all shown talent.”

 

“Get them here now!” Alam ordered.

 

Eleanor quickly called out, “Yang, Zao, and Feng! Report to Alam’s office!”

 

Moments later, the three soldiers entered.

 

“Alright, introduce yourselves and share your achievements,” Alam commanded.

 

“Yang,” the soldier said, his voice steady. He adjusted the worn patch on his shoulder, a stylized hawk clutching a lightning bolt. “Carpathia, Hong Kong, Feihong… I’ve seen my share of fire. I prefer a well-planned defense, but I’m not afraid to take the fight to them.”

 

“Next!” Alam urged.

 

“I’m Zao. I joined the Wanderer Group at 16 and have fought in many battles against the Blood Khaganate. I’ve taken out numerous generals,” Zao replied.

 

“Impressive. And you’re how old now?”

 

“22,” Zao confirmed.

 

“Good. And you?” Alam turned to Feng.

 

“I’m Feng, originally from China. I joined early on and have participated in many engagements, taking out key figures in the Blood Khaganate,” Feng said.

 

“Alright, Eleanor, show me a map of China and its situation.”

 

Eleanor displayed a chaotic map riddled with factions, warlords, and ongoing conflicts. “It’s a mess over there,” she said.

 

“Perfect. Feng, Zao, and Yang—you're under my command now. Your mission is to unite the land of China.”

 

The trio nodded in affirmation, ready to tackle the challenge.

 

“Mission Zhongguo Conqueror has officially begun!” Alam declared, a determined grin on his face. “.

 “Alright, we need to conquer this region fast. I’m eyeing the center of China. If we take it, the surrounding territories will have to acknowledge us. we fight against time before zion main force arrive and took it from us...”

Thoughts?” Alam’s voice was steady, but urgency pulsed beneath.

 

The council, composed of the best and brightest of the Wanderer Group, leaned in.

 

“Securing local support is key,” Fang explained. “We need to build relationships, show we’re not like the Blood Khaganate. Once locals see our strength, they’ll have no choice but to back us.”

 

“Exactly! But what if I just spearhead straight to the heart of China? Too risky?” Alam asked, eyebrow raised.

 

“General, that’s a dangerous move,” Zao cautioned. “Rushing in could leave us vulnerable to attacks from other regions. Methodical wins the day. Let’s secure the surrounding areas first.”

 

Alam sighed heavily. “I get it. But time is against us. The Red Nation is licking its wounds and will pounce if we dawdle.”

 

Yang chimed in. “We need to secure our position before facing the Red Nation. Taking the heart of China is a massive undertaking. Patience is key.”

 

“Fine, I won’t commit all our resources to a reckless charge. I’ll destabilize the region with a small force first while the rest of you expand methodically,” Alam conceded.

 

“Appreciate your flexibility, General,” Zao said. “A solid foundation will pave the way for a successful campaign.”

 

“Now, let’s get real. What challenges will we face in this China campaign?” Alam pressed, looking around the room.

 

Fang jumped in. “The Red Nation is a formidable foe with significant resources. We’ll encounter fierce resistance, advanced artillery, and local militias still reeling from the Blood Khaganate.”

 

“Right. And what about Central China?” Alam asked.

 

Zao replied, “It’s populous and resource-rich, but also riddled with fortified cities and local militias. Expect tough fights.”

 

“Any other major players in the mix?” Alam inquired.

 

Yang nodded. “Yes, local gangs and governments will complicate things. They have their own agendas, and we need to understand their motivations.”

 

“Great, so it’s a circus out there,” Alam chuckled. “Do you have any questions?”

 

Zao piped up. “What’s your plan for coordinating the vanguard and the main force?”

Alam outlined his plan. “Generals Zhang and Jax will lead the main force, maintaining our expansion. My vanguard will be a volunteer squad of 100, backed by ten IFVs, an artillery truck, and a Hind. Fang, you’ll oversee our progress. Yang, handle supply. Zao, you’ll manage the integration of conquered territories.”

“Any questions?”

Fang raised a hand. “Intelligence gathering?”

Yang added, “What about other Wanderer missions during this central campaign?”

Zao’s concern was more direct. “100 soldiers, General? Against a powerful nation’s heartland?”

“We have spies in place, though progress is slow,” Alam explained. “My vanguard will also act as scouts. Jax and Zhang are more than capable of handling expansion elsewhere—they’re methodical leaders, perfect for that. And Zao… 100 is enough. With Gott’s help, anything’s possible.”

Fang nodded. “Understood. The vanguard will be crucial for reconnaissance.”

Yang agreed. “Jax and Zhang are well-suited for the other operations.”

Zao remained skeptical but offered a respectful, “Very well, General.”

Alam’s gaze drifted. “Remember my story? Leading just four mercs—Anya, Talon, Jax, and myself—across Europe? I thrive on those odds.”

Fang recalled the tale. “A near-impossible mission, yet you succeeded. You’ve overcome adversity before.”

“Doesn’t guarantee a smooth ride,” Alam countered. “I could die. But even if I do, the cause continues.”

“You’re irreplaceable, General,” Fang insisted. “You’re a skilled tactician, a guerilla fighter.”

“We’ve seen your courage firsthand,” Yang affirmed.

“We faced the Blood Khaganate and the Red Nation. We’ll overcome this too,” Zao added.

“I hope so.” Alam paused. “Any final questions?”

Yang asked, “Any final words before you depart?”

Fang added, “Anything for the soldiers joining you?”

Zao inquired, “Your first plan of action in the central region?”

Alam looked towards Ruyi City, a touch of melancholy in his eyes. “I hope to return.” He then stepped atop an IFV, addressing his assembled vanguard.

He stepped onto an IFV, his voice ringing out across the assembled troops. “Gentlemen, brave women! We’ve come this far together. We will make history! We may die and turn to ashes someday—maybe tomorrow, maybe in fifty years—but today is ours! Our actions, our decisions. We are not mindless puppets. We have free will. And today… we choose to strike!”

“Who’s with me?” Alam shouted, raising his hand high.

The room erupted in unison, hands raised. “We are with you, General Alam, until the very end!”

“Forward! To China!” Alam declared.

The Wanderer Army cheered, their battle cry echoing across the field as they marched towards Central China, ready to strike at its heart. The journey had just begun. Alam turned to the map of China, the vast expanse of territory stretching out before him. Uniting such a fractured land would be his greatest challenge yet. He glanced at Yang, Zao, and Fang, their faces a mix of excitement and apprehension. He knew this would be a long and bloody road. As the last of the convoy disappeared into the vast desert, Ali and Zhang stood at the gate.

“The fact that the Blood Khaganate and Red Nation were already planning an invasion makes Alam's actions seem less like a preventative measure and more like a preemptive strike or a power grab. He's not stopping a war; he's continuing one that was already about to begin, but on his terms,” Ali mused.

Zhang nodded, his face hardening. “While Alam expresses a desire for order and stability, he doesn't clearly articulate how conquering China will achieve this.”

Ali shrugged, then whistled to call his enchanted black horse. Mounting it, he looked at the sunset on the horizon. “He might think if we're strong enough, Zion will think twice about starting their invasion,” a grim smile touching his lips. After a moment, he added “But Zion… that’s a storm he’s never weathered.” With that, Ali rode off, leaving Zhang to contemplate the uncertain future, the setting sun casting long shadows across the desert.

Chapter 33 Bastard Brigade

 

Witty World News on screen

September 2403. Move over, Attila the Hun, there's a new horde in town, and they're hungrier than a pack of wolves at a borscht buffet. The Wanderer Group, once mere vassals of the Red Nation, have gone full Genghis Khan, sending shockwaves through Central Asia like a Cossack doing the kazachok on a trampoline.

In other news: Bears spotted tap-dancing in the taiga, local officials blame faulty vodka distilleries.

The True Horde banner soared high—a white horse against a blue background, flanked by the Wanderer banner, a striking red triangle on a black field. Alam gathered his war council, calling in his top generals and talented officers. its was a year after creation of true horde confederacy,

Meanwhile, while Alam goes full berserk on land, the Blood Khaganate finds itself starved for supplies, making it easy for him to declare their territory as a tasty breakfast. But what Alam doesn’t realize is that the real battle is raging on the Pacific and Atlantic seas, where Jozen’s pirates are systematically tearing apart the Red Nation fleet and its supply lines.

 

World War 4 hasn’t been declared yet, but tensions are soaring!

 

Amid this chaotic Pacific showdown, we shift to Nara, a member of the infamous Bastard Brigade—a ragtag group of wild, bloodthirsty warriors acting as the vanguard in a bold assault on a pirate stronghold.

 

From their bomber planes, they rain destruction down on the islands below, explosive payloads lighting up the sky. Anti-aircraft guns fire back, sending shockwaves that rattle the bombers.

 

In the midst of this pandemonium, the Bastard Brigade prepares to parachute in. Among them is Nara, armed with a small axe from Panji and a rifle slung across her back. She’s ready to prove herself, surrounded by a motley crew of warriors in all sorts of outfits. Some sport leather biker jackets and bandanas, others wear proper soldier uniforms, and a few even don tuxedos with katanas on their backs, looking like they just stepped out of a Yakuza movie. “If I’m going to die,” one trooper sighed dramatically, clutching his chest, “I want to die… in drips

 

The first wave of parachute gliders descends onto the island. Most of them are decimated by enemy machine gun fire, and then it’s Nara’s turn.

 

“Go, go, go!” barks Lieutenant Rayleigh, decked out in an exosuit that looks like it came straight from a Halo game, as he jumps first.

 

Nara dives, watching Rayleigh’s chute open too early and swing wildly. Another comrade’s chute gets shredded by enemy fire. She decides to hold off on opening hers, aiming for the flak cannon below. At 30 meters, she pops it open, crashing hard but somehow managing to keep her leg intact, much to the enemy’s surprise. With a quick move, she takes out the cannon with a grenade.

 

Looking around, it's total chaos—even friendly fire. The enemy's dug in deep, shooting from behind tall grass with crappy weapons. Nara searches for her comrades and finds Rayleigh, his leg broken.

 

"Blow up those huts, they're for their NCOs. It'll mess with their heads," he says, handing her three bombs. "But don't use 'em all, we need to hit the radio center."

 

Nara nods and goes after the pirates in their jungle gear, while her brigade looks like a circus but with better armor. After hours, she blows up an empty hut—a small win.

 

Officer Patrick, with his black hat and bloody sword, yells, "Good job, now attack!" and charges into the thicket. Nara, now shot up, heads back to Rayleigh for some help.

 

"You did good," Rayleigh says, tossing her an adrenaline shot. "Bullets in your arm and leg? You're fine, get back out there!" he shouts, limping forward. "We need that radio center before sunset! They'll hit back soon, move it... kill! Kill!"

The fight drags on, bloody and relentless. Both sides often can't see each other beyond a few meters due to the thick grass and swamps. The Bastard Brigade fights from trenches and a cave connected to a trench, dealing with gunfire, explosions, and annoying mosquitoes and other bugs.

 

Nara stumbles upon a bunker, originally used in WW2 by the Japanese, now occupied by pirates on the brink of WW4. After clearing out the enemy, the path to the radio station is filled with the buzzing of insects and the squelching of boots in the swamp.

 

"Damn, we're not getting paid enough for this," grumbles one warrior.

"We'll never get paid 'cause we're gonna die," another laughs.

"Shhh, quiet!" hisses Ma, a female NCO.

 

The monotony is shattered by the sound of machine guns as the enemy launches a counterattack. Nara, at the front, sees a horde of enemies charging at her. Panicking, her heart racing, she throws all her grenades and takes cover behind a big boulder.

 

From there, she sees the smoke from her comrades' guns as they fire rapidly. Trying to peek out from the boulder, she's met with enemy gunfire, cornered. Her instinct kicks in—she plants one of her two bombs on the boulder and retreats, detonating it to create shrapnel that hits the nearby enemies.

 

The battle intensifies, both sides clawing for victory, aware that this island could tip the scales in the Pacific theater.

 

After a brutal fight, they inch closer to the enemy radio station, encountering hidden pillboxes and explosive traps along the way. Nara's aim wavers as her adrenaline fades, the pain from her gunshot wounds in her shoulder and thigh flaring up. She retreats to Rayleigh for medical attention.

 

"Alright, you've done well so far," Rayleigh grudgingly tends to her wounds, giving her a small dose of painkillers.

"Fuck..." she hisses through the pain. Once patched up, she asks, "Why didn't you treat me earlier?"

"Those meds are expensive! I could sell 'em... I don't wanna waste 'em on a coward. Anyway, you'll just get more wounds soon. Now, get back to the fight!" Rayleigh's expression is hidden behind his full-face helmet, but Nara suspects he's smirking or grinning.

 

Realizing she's being commanded by a madman, Nara pats her bag, noting she's used up all her bombs. No way she's asking Rayleigh for more. She's determined to destroy the radio station herself, somehow.

 

She attempts to flank the enemy, rushing through the swamp and thick vegetation, taking out a few enemies but knowing she's passing many more without being able to shoot them.

 

A hail of bullets whizzes past her ears, and she takes another hit in her shoulder and back but keeps sprinting until she reaches a ruined building. Is this the radio station? Or is she just lost? Still under fire, Nara zigzags inside and takes cover among the ruins.

 

Wait, the radio station was already destroyed by a bombing campaign. She's both relieved and annoyed. If she dies now, it's for nothing.

 

But Nara's crazy flanking maneuver draws enemy attention, giving her comrades a chance to take out many of them.

 

She tries to peek out from the ruins and take out some enemies, but a loud machine gun pierces the air, its bullets tearing through the brick.

 

Nara's heart races again. She knows the enemy's caliber could pierce her suit if she takes a hit. Methodically, she crawls towards the ruins and takes out the enemy machine gunner with a lucky shot.

 

Later, Rayleigh, seemingly forgetting his own broken leg, runs towards the ruined radio station. He spots Nara behind the rubble.

"Good job, we did it! We destroyed the enemy building!"

Nara just plays along and nods, holding her wounds.

 

Meanwhile, at the station...

 

Kassandra surveyed the battlefield, her voice tense. “The island is ours, but the casualties are too high.”

 

Zion nodded, his expression grim.

 

“We can send the elite brigade somewhere safer—stop them from dying in this chaotic jungle, our ally khaganate need them more” Kassandra pressed.

 

Zion shook his head. “Let it be.”

 

Suddenly, a dot appeared on the monitor, growing larger—it was a boomerang airfighter jet, sleek and deadly. It swooped down, unleashing hell on the pirates hiding in the dense jungle.

 

Cheers erupted among the warriors as the airfighter soared past, another pirate obliterated.

 

 

 

Amid the celebration, Rayleigh stood tall in an open field, his patched-up legs steady. He pulled off his shades, revealing piercing blue eyes between the confines of his full-face helmet. Surrounded by the Bastard Brigade, he unfurled a map, determination etched on his features.

 

“This isn’t just a radio station,” he declared, fire in his voice. “They’ve built a tunnel system. This island hides an underground port—likely connected to their hidden city. Our mission? Search and destroy!”

 

 

Later, in the makeshift armory inside the tent, Duc, the bulky machine gunner, slung an ammo belt across his chest, looking every bit the warrior.  beside him a yu. a girl with mechanical implant limb with orange hair

 

“You look badass,” Yu remarked, grinning.

 

Duc raised an eyebrow. “Try carrying it. Then tell me how cool it is.”

 

Yu laughed. “No thanks. It’s heavy!”

 

Patrick, busy cleaning his sword, chimed in. “Last battle was insane. You’re the only machine gunner left in the entire platoon.”

 

Duc nodded, a grim smile on his face. “Our life expectancy? About a minute after we fire this thing. All the attention’s on us. But I don’t mind... I’ve taken down a lot of them.”

 

 

 

Rayleigh led the platoon once more, with Nara trailing behind, her fresh wounds still wrapped in bandages. They navigated a steep ridge, the path treacherous.

 

“Ugh, this gear is so heavy!” one warrior grumbled.

 

“Shut it!, its your guys fault not buy light and better gear instead spend it on pussy” Ma, the NCO, snapped, cracking her crop like a whip.

 

“Nara, you and Yu scout ahead!” Rayleigh ordered, a cheeky grin spreading across his face.

 

“Why us?” Yu wheezed, panting.

 

“Because you both have small asses! Now go!” Rayleigh laughed.

 

They scrambled up the cliff for a shortcut, reaching a high vantage point. Below, they spotted a group of enemies in white exosuits among the ruined huts.

 

“Time to plan an attack!” Rayleigh said, eyeing the numbers.

 

As the assault began, the enemies scrambled to plant explosives in the tunnel. Not on Rayleigh’s watch. Their exosuits proved useless against their small arms.

 

“Keep firing, Duc!” Rayleigh shouted.

 

Duc opened fire like a machine, bullets raining down on the enemy.

 

“Patrick, Alexis! Flank them!” Rayleigh barked.

 

With melee weapons drawn, Patrick and Alexis charged, tossing a flashbang into the mix. They cut through the enemy exosuits like butter. Patrick aimed for the gaps with his sword, while Alexis went for their necks with a machete and throwing knives.

 

“Excellent cuts!” Rayleigh called out, watching with approval.

 

Meanwhile, Nox swaggered in like a Duke Nukem wannabe, beheading an enemy for a trophy. He proudly displayed another ear on his hip to Yu and Nara, who exchanged mixed looks of disbelief and amusement.

 

“Let’s keep moving!” Rayleigh urged as they ventured deeper into the tunnel.

 

Suddenly, a massive explosion rocked the ground—the pirates were trying to blow the tunnel! A quarter of the platoon got separated from Rayleigh, who stood at the tunnel’s mouth.

 

He spotted a huge boulder blocking their path and sighed. “Carry on with the mission. You guys might find your way on your own. Ceasar spirit bless,” he radioed to the trapped warriors.

 

Now it was just Nara, Yu, Patrick, Nox, Alexis, Duc, and a few others left to fend for themselves.

 

Inside, they fought fiercely, quickly overpowering any remaining pirates. But then they hit a wall.

 

“Over here!” someone shouted, spotting a platform leading deeper into the hall. Water pooled ominously below.

 

“Ew, no way. That’s a red flag,” Alexis said, lowering her thermal goggles.

 

“Let’s hope this stops the crash!” Patrick yelled as they jumped down, plunging into the depths, followed closely by Nox and Alexis, ready to face whatever awaited them.

 

Chapter 34 Fungi nyan

 

Bastard brigade squad member stumbled upon a small underground train—one that felt like a relic from another time. As it rattled through the dark tunnel, they noticed something bizarre: glowing green mushrooms sprouting from the ceiling, casting an eerie light around them.

 

“Masks on!” someone shouted, but Nox, always the wild card, and Alexis, who was maskless, decided to keep going. “What’s the worst that could happen?” Alexis joked, but the moment she breathed in, she started coughing. “Uh-oh. I think I’m infected.”

 

A low growl echoed through the tunnel, Suddenly, a humanoid figure emerged from the glowing mushrooms above, its body dripping with red blood after the first kill. Panic set in. “Stop the train!” they yelled, but the thing just kept speeding up, slamming into the creature with a loud thud.

 

The train screeched to a halt at the end of the line, leaving them bloodied and bruised, splattered with the attacker’s gore. Just when they thought it couldn’t get worse, the emergency lights flickered and died.

 

“Great. We’re going to be blind,” Alexis groaned, her frustration palpable.

 

“Not if I can help it,” Nox said, grabbing one of the glowing mushrooms. “We can use this!”

 

Yu, wiping blood off her face, chimed in, “Actually, I can do something. Hand me that mushroom.”

 

“No way! Get your own, you cibi!” Nox shot back, clutching his prize.

 

“Give it to me! That’s an order!” Yu snapped, her patience wearing thin.

 

“Nyoooh!” Nox replied defiantly.

 

“Enough already. Give it to her,” Patrick interjected, tipping his hat back to reveal his pure black eyes.

 

Nox raised an eyebrow but relaxed a bit. “you’re not even the leader!”

 

“I’m a hundred years old,” Patrick retorted.

 

“Really? Alright, old man,” Nox said, relenting and handing the mushroom over. Patrick quickly passed it to Yu.

 

With a determined look, Yu pulled out a glass bottle and plunged the mushroom inside, turning it into a makeshift light source. “There! Emergency lighting, folks!”

 

The others quickly followed suit, transforming their own mushrooms into glowing beacons. Now, they were ready for whatever came next.

Sure! Here’s a punchier, more casual version of your scene:

 

 

 

They passed an old warehouse, now half-submerged in water, with crates and cargo floating all around. It felt like a twisted game of Mario Bros, except the water was dark and murky—and definitely scary.

 

They jumped from crate to crate, adrenaline pumping, battling the occasional humanoid creature that lurked in the shadows.

 

“Ugh, I’m thirsty. Can someone hand me some water?” Duc complained, lowering his machine gun.

 

“This isn’t a restaurant,” Alexis shot back, her thermal goggles scanning the area ahead.

 

“Yeah, but I’m carrying this heavy thing for a reason!” Duc grumbled, clearly annoyed.

 

Alexis glanced back at him and smirked. “No one needs that big gun, buddy.”

 

Duc just pointed the gun forward, and Alexis immediately went serious. But instead of shooting at her, Duc blasted a creature that had been creeping up behind them.

 

“Nice shot!” Patrick said, offering Duc his water bottle.

 

Nox finished off the creature with a shotgun blast at point-blank range. “What now? We’ve lost contact with HQ, and our supplies are running low. Old man, what’s the game plan?”

 

Patrick sighed. “Let’s just keep moving.”

 

As they pressed on, the tension mounted, and they grew more aggressive—both toward enemies and each other.

 

Eventually, they stumbled into an underground city, but it was a decaying nightmare, crawling with monsters.

 

Descending into the half-submerged metropolis, they spotted the central tower glowing faintly in the distance. They fought their way through the chaos, but the power was out.

 

“Let’s find a generator,” Duc suggested, glancing at the murky water pooling around their feet.

 

They made their way to the basement, where the water was knee-deep, and a bunch of grotesque creatures lurked beneath the surface. It was time for another fight. they easly kill any creature around them. but ammo is low.

“save it for yourself guys heh.. “ nox said while grab some pipe scattered around and use it as weapon

 

 

Later, Alexis stumbled into a medical room and immediately went to town on every antibiotic she could find. Nara, noticing her frantic scavenging, raised an eyebrow. “Are you okay?”

“Do I look okay?” Alexis shot back, her voice dripping with sarcasm.

“Not really, but—”

“Just don’t tell anyone, alright?” Alexis interrupted, grabbing more supplies from the shelves.

---

Meanwhile, Nox found a dismembered hand and used it to open the identification door. Surprisingly, it worked!

After a ton of drama, they finally powered up the generator, lighting up half the submerged city. A giant sign in the central hub read “Aqua,” but the sudden glow attracted every creature in the area.

“Time to move!” Nox yelled, leading the charge to the main elevator.

In the hall, two elevators stood waiting. The first one descended, while the second was only halfway down. When the doors opened, it could only fit five people.

Nox and his group piled into the first elevator, leaving the others to fend off the horde. Nara, Duc, Alexis, Yu, Patrick, and the rest squeezed into the second one, but the first elevator got stuck thanks to some nasty fungi. They shouted for help, but it was chaos.

At the last moment, Nox snapped, going berserk and attacking the four people still in his elevator. But with the creatures closing in, he decided to leave them behind; there was no time.

The attacks from the monsters caused more damage, and soon the city was flooding fast. They barely managed to reach the surface when their elevator jammed.

“Emergency hatch! Now!” Duc shouted. They climbed up to the ceiling and found a long ladder leading to the top. Duc ditched his empty machine gun, and everyone followed suit, tossing aside their weapons to lighten the load.

Finally, they reached the top and faced a metal door. Yu examined it and said, “We’ll need to force it open.” Patrick stepped up, sliding her sword into a small gap.

With a grunt, they pried the door open, sacrificing Patrick’s sword in the process, and stepped out into the sunlight.

What greeted them was a tropical island with an abandoned town. They learned about a mushroom leak that made soldiers fight bravely but turned them into zombies instead.

they set the entire island ablaze to send a signal to other, ready to report to the Red Nation.

 

 

 

Later, they were picked up by helicopters, from the 19 people trapped in the tunnel. Only seven made it out, and somehow, Alexis managed to keep her head together, thanks to the meds she’d scavenged. Once in the lab, she got a thorough examination.

 

Meanwhile, Ma was impressed with the survivors and started talking promotions.

 

Duc shrugged, “I’d rather stay with the Bastard Brigade.”

 

Yu piped up, “I think I want to transfer to the Mechanized Brigade. I’m tired of using my legs so much.”

 

Patrick nod. “I’ll go with you.”

 

Yu rolled her eyes. “How many times do I have to tell you? This isn’t New York. Choose your own path, Rick.”

 

“I’m not a Rick! Damn it, I just want to see something different, that’s all!” Patrick shot back.

 

Yu turned to Nara. “What about you, girl?”

 

Nara was still moping about the axe she lost on the ladder, a bit spaced out. “Huh? Oh, yeah… I think I’ll go back to being a gladiator.”

 

The group exchanged glances, eyebrows raised, clearly confused by her sudden shift.

 

Ma interjected, “What’s your goal?”

 

Nara grinned, “I just wanna... get some attention.”

Later in the Red Nation, in what used to be Anchorage, Canada, the streets were a riot of color, filled with flags fluttering in the chilly wind. Monitors mounted on towering buildings blared advertisements, each one dripping with a mix of patriotism and propaganda. It was a spectacle designed to instill pride and control perception in equal measure.

Nara hopped off the mass transport, her boots crunching against the snow as she made her way through the bustling street. She had a specific destination in mind, and as she walked, she felt a mix of excitement and nerves.

At the corner, a blonde woman in a striking white fur dress spotted her and waved. It was Maria. Nara couldn’t help but smile as Maria rushed over to her, pulling her into a warm hug that made her cheeks flush.

“Hey, you!” Maria beamed. “It’s been too long!”

“Yeah, it really has,” Nara replied, her voice muffled in Maria’s embrace. They exchanged some casual banter, catching up on life in the bustling city, the cold air swirling around them.

After a few minutes, they headed down the snowy street together, laughing and talking until they reached the entrance of a building lit up with neon lights. Above the door, the sign read “Svatdisco.”

“Here it is! Svat now runs an AI VR tycoon,” Maria announced with a proud smile.

They stepped inside, the warmth enveloping them as they entered the vibrant space filled with digital displays and futuristic decor. As they walked through, they passed rental rooms where clients were already immersed in their virtual worlds, lost in their own adventures.

Finally, they reached the office room, and there, slumped in a chair, was Svat. He was a hefty man wearing a bodysuit and VR goggles, his unkempt beard making him barely recognizable.

Nara smirked, feeling a mischievous urge as she marched over and yanked the goggles off his face.

“Aghhh! What the hell, Nara?! You’re ruining the vibe!” Svat yelled, his red eyes glaring at her in disbelief.

Nara just stood there, arms crossed, enjoying his frustration. The moment was too good to pass up until Svat finally noticed the new badge on her shoulder.

“Sergeant, huh?” he said, trying to sound impressed but failing.

“Actually, it’s Second Sergeant of the Blitzt,” Nara replied, her chest puffing up with pride.

“I don’t know what that means,” Svat said, rolling his eyes.

“It means I’m part of the Honor Guard,” Nara stated, a grin spreading across her face.

“I… had no idea what that is. Do you still carry a gun or what?” Svat asked, sounding genuinely confused.

“Of course! I’m part of the Bastard Brigade Vanguard!” Nara explained, enthusiasm bubbling over.

Svat sighed, waving a hand dismissively. “Just cut it out. I don’t understand all this military jargon. Anyway, it looks cool. What do you want?”

Nara raised an eyebrow, puzzled. “Is that how you treat an old friend? What do I want? Pffft…”

Svat’s grin widened. “Ahh, so you’re lonely!”

“Shut up! No, you idiot!” Nara shot back, her face flushing again. “I’m here to get you back in the army. We need you to fight something greater than… whatever this is.” She gestured at the VR setup on his desk.

Svat laughed, a deep, hearty sound. “You fool. The economy and controlling people’s perceptions are important too! I’m an important person, you see?”

Nara rolled her eyes. “You think playing video games and running a business makes you important? We’re facing real threats out there. We need you back on the front lines!”

“Yeah, but I’m doing important work here!” Svat argued, leaning back in his chair with a smirk. “I can influence thousands without ever leaving this place.”

Nara wasn’t buying it. “You’re wasting your potential, Svat. You were a soldier! We fought side by side. Don’t you miss it?”

He shrugged, his expression shifting slightly as he seemed to consider her words. “It’s not the same anymore, Nara. The world has changed. People need to escape, and I can give that to them.”

“Escape or not, reality is crashing down around us,” she pressed, her tone earnest. “You’re needed. We can’t afford to forget what we’re fighting for.”

Svat looked at her, the playful spark in his eyes dimming slightly. “And what if I don’t want to fight again? What if I’m happy here?”

Nara stepped closer, her voice softening. “Then you’re not really living, Svat. You’re just existing. Don’t you want more than that?”

The silence stretched between them, the weight of their history hanging in the air. Finally, Svat sighed, rubbing his temples. “You make a strong case, but I’m not sure. I’ve built something here. and i got everything here..so.. learn to accept.. different nara”

 

nara sigh, turn dissapointed but then she had a strange feeling seeing dog dogi approach her. she then reluctanly pat his head

maria then break the silence “so.. what you will gain in join a gladiator combat again? do accepted in honor guard is not enough nara?”

“I want to be the best of the best.” She turned to leave, a determined glint in her eye. As she walked away, Maria exchanged a worried glance with Svat. They both sensed that Nara’s desire for validation ran much deeper than she let on.

Chapter 35 Light's Tibetan Campaign

 

Meanwhile, on the border of the Purple Nation and the True Horde, there were some isolated Blood Khaganate territories. The Purple Nation was secretly sending soldiers as mercenaries to support the Wanderers, seeing them as the perfect proxy to weaken Red Nation influence without direct confrontation.

 

Despite this, turmoil brewed within the Purple Nation, a melting pot of diverse populations from India, Pakistan, and China. Opinions about the Red Nation varied widely, but one soldier who had become a merc for the Wanderers was a legendary strategist.

 

In the heart of the desert, where harsh snowy winds met gritty sand, an unusual sight awaited the foreign mercenaries. A modest wooden sign creaked in the wind, proclaiming: "4 Star Hotel." The paint was faded, but it still clung to the wood—an.

 

Among the motley crew was a man with dark hair and striking purple eyes, dressed in a formal white shirt. He was Light, the wandering strategist, and beside him stood Boris, a bulky man with weary eyes, leading his ragtag crew of mercenaries, vagabonds, and outlaws, approached the shack with a sarcastic chuckle

 

“Well, this looks luxurious,” Boris remarked, his tone dripping with mockery as they reached the shack. The rest of the crew exchanged tired glances, their exhaustion evident.

 

Light eyed the dilapidated building with skepticism. “Are you sure this is a 4-star hotel?”

 

Boris shrugged and gestured toward the shack. “It’s got a pool. Compared to the tents we usually sleep in, this is luxury. So, yes, this is a 4-star hotel.”

 

Light raised an eyebrow, a smirk playing on his lips. “You don’t have higher standards?”

 

“Higher standards? You think you’re an emperor or something? Should we be staying in a king’s castle?” Boris shot back, irritation creeping into his voice.

 

Light chuckled, unbothered. “I’ve stayed in a king’s castle before, and it was pretty comfortable. But I’m fine with whatever as long as it’s safe and warm for sleeping.”

 

“Be grateful we have this,” Boris snapped. “It’s the best I can afford. Don’t be an ungrateful bastard.”

 

“Relax, Boris. I’ve seen worse. This isn’t so bad,” Light replied, trying to defuse the tension.

 

Eager to change the subject, Boris pointed to a map spread out on a nearby table. “Forget about the shack. You see this map? That’s the Tibet border.”

 

Light nodded, glancing at the map. “Yeah, I see it.”

 

Boris’s expression turned serious. “That’s our first target. We’re not just ambushing supply trucks this time; we’re wiping out the whole garrison. Our client wants that border cleared, so gear up.”

 

Light’s smirk returned. “Just clearing the border, huh? Sounds like a solid starting point. But are we up against any heavy hitters or just conscript soldiers?”

 

Boris leaned back, confidence radiating from him. “No worries. Reports say they’re just conscripts—barely trained. All they’ve got are standard-issue AKs, some SMGs, and a few anti-tank weapons. We’ve got better gear; this should be a cakewalk.”

 

Light’s expression shifted to cautious optimism. “If they don’t have heavy guns or artillery, they’re no real threat. But don’t underestimate them. They might not be trained, but they’ll fight like hell when cornered. So let’s not get careless.”

 

Boris nodded, acknowledging the concern. “True, they’ll fight when pressed. But we’ve got the numbers and the terrain on our side. The area is flat and open, perfect for us to use our range advantage. As long as the supplies come in, we should win with minimal casualties.”

 

“Any points of concern we should keep an eye on?” Light asked, his focus sharpening.

 

“Yeah, the general in charge of that area. He’s experienced and knows how to operate artillery like mortars and howitzers. He’s a threat, and we need to take him out quickly.”

 

Light’s interest piqued. “So the general is our primary target. I can handle that. Eliminate him, and the rest will crumble." He looked up, his gaze sharp. "But let's not underestimate his guard. Even untrained dogs can bite if cornered."

 

Boris waved dismissively. “Just regular security with basic combat training. But there are a lot of them, and their morale will be high, so we need to take them out fast. Otherwise, they could stall our advance and support their general.”

 

“Got it,” Light replied, nodding. “Anything else we should worry about?”

 

Boris shook his head, brimming with confidence. “Nope, that’s it. We have the upper hand. If we attack properly, it should be an easy win.”

 

Light turned to the troops, rallying them. “Alright, are we ready?”

 

The mercenaries rallied with determination, shouting in unison, “Yes!”

 

“Then let’s move out!” Light ordered, a smirk on his face.

 

As they raised their rifles, their battle cry echoed through the desert. They were primed for a swift, bloody assault.

 

Leading the charge, Light knew the key was to keep the enemy on the defensive, preventing them from regrouping. He signaled his troops to strike from the rear, sowing chaos and confusion.

 

The mercenaries executed his orders flawlessly, attacking with speed and precision from multiple angles. Some of the enemy, caught off guard, panicked and fled, while others struggled to regroup.

 

Light shouted commands, directing his troops to target the enemy’s regrouping points. He aimed to keep them in a state of panic and retreat. Keeping an eye on the general, he sought to isolate him from the battle.

 

Light’s troops pressed the attack, striking hard at the enemy’s attempts to regroup. The enemy, now in disarray, continued to retreat, while the general remained pinned in his defensive position.

 

Monitoring the general’s movements, Light signaled his troops to cover the enemy’s escape routes. He ordered his machine gun unit to provide suppressive fire on the general’s position, pinning him down.

 

The machine guns roared, preventing the general from escaping. With his options dwindling, the general faced a grim choice: fight to the death or surrender to Light’s mercy.

 

A glint of satisfaction flashed in Light’s eyes. Everything was going according to plan. But a nagging thought lingered in the back of his mind: "What about enemy reinforcements? Are they on their way, or do we have time to finish off the general first?"

 

The report was clear: no reinforcements were expected anytime soon. The government needed time to reassess the situation, which would take at least 12 hours. No reinforcements were coming.

 

Light nodded, determination solidifying. “So we have plenty of time to deal with the general first. Then why wait…” He signaled his troops to advance, keeping the general pinned under machine gun fire while ordering one unit to surround him.

 

The battle was far from over, but victory was within reach.He signaled his troops to advance further, keeping the general's position under machine gun fire while ordering one unit to surround the general.

 

The troops sprang into action, moving swiftly behind the general's position and surrounding him completely. The guy was trapped, no way out. His soldiers were losing steam fast, their morale crumbling under the weight of Light's relentless assault.

Light took a moment to survey the scene before giving one last signal to his troops. The general was boxed in, and it was time to finish this. “Let’s wrap it up,” he commanded, and his troops surged forward, ready to deliver the final blow.

In an explosive rush, they charged in, some tossing grenades while others opened fire. A few went in swinging machetes. Chaos erupted inside the general’s camp, but Light’s crew was too well-coordinated; they overwhelmed the enemy forces in no time. Now, the general was at the mercy of the Wanderers. The big question was: what would they do with him?

Light strolled toward the general, a smirk creeping onto his face. The general’s eyes darted around at the mercenaries closing in on him, desperation etched across his features. Light stopped just a meter away and asked, “What do you want?” the general ask with voice rising. but deep down he wanna see a other day

 

Light’s smirk widened. “I’ve got one question for you,” he teased, knowing it would be painful to answer. “Will you surrender and accept defeat, or are you going to fight to the bitter end?”

“I’ll never surrender to you!” the general shot back defiantly, but before he could finish, two of Light’s men lunged forward, grabbing him and forcing him to kneel. They pressed their guns to his head—a clear threat.

Light watched with a grin as the general’s bravado crumbled. “You can still change your mind, you know. Surrender now, and I can guarantee you’ll walk away from this.”

“I won’t surrender,” the general spat, clinging desperately to his pride even as he knelt there, defeated.

Light chuckled, inching closer, his smirk unwavering. “You sure about that? Because if you don’t surrender, I promise you won’t survive this day.”

The general’s eyes widened, realizing the gravity of Light’s words. He understood that refusing to surrender meant certain death. Yet, even with that knowledge, he stood firm, choosing honor over his life.

Light leaned in, close enough to smell the general’s fear. “One last chance. Are you absolutely sure?”

The general met his gaze, his expression steely and resolute. No words came; he simply stared, defiance radiating from him.

Light couldn’t help but admire the guy’s spirit. “You’ve got guts, I’ll give you that. You’d rather die than give in. That’s kinda impressive.” He stepped even closer, his grin growing. “But it’s also a little silly. This is the first time I’ve met a soldier who’d rather die than surrender. This day just got a lot more interesting…”

The general’s glare intensified, a mix of rage and contempt. He knew Light was toying with him, but he wouldn’t flinch. Staring down the barrel of Light’s gun, he dared him to pull the trigger.

Bored with the stare-down, Light finally stepped back, raising a hand. His troops mirrored him, guns trained on the general.

The general’s glare didn’t waver, now fueled by a burning hatred. He breathed heavily, his body trembling with barely contained fury. “I’m a soldier, loyal to my nation! I’ll die as a man, not as a coward! If you want my life, then by all means, take it! I’d rather face death than surrender to the likes of you!”

Light burst out laughing, a loud, genuine laugh that echoed through the room. “Oh, my. Such drama!” He wiped a tear from his eye, still chuckling. “You know, if this wasn’t a war, I’d offer you a part in my next play.”

Meanwhile, Boris circled the room. Despite his hardened exterior, he felt a growing unease. Was Light about to cross a line? Would he torture this poor bastard, or was this just another one of his sick jokes? His gaze landed on a document on the desk. Cassio. The general’s name. One of just two the last top generals of the crumbling Khaganate. while the rest is dead or captured on various front,  Boris looked at Cassio, a flicker of sympathy in his eyes, hoping Light would just stop.

Light’s laughter subsided, but the smile remained, now with a distinctly unsettling edge. “Seriously, though. This is becoming quite the spectacle. How long can you keep this up, General? It’s almost… performance art.”

Suddenly, a soldier burst in, shouting, “Sir! Enemy reinforcements are coming! They have a Hind!”

Light’s smile instantly vanished. He lowered his hand, his voice sharp and commanding. “Everyone, take cover! Reinforcements! Hold the line!” He barked orders to his machine gun units, preparing for the attack.

His troops sprang into action, retreating to their defensive positions. The machine gun units got ready, spotting the enemy reinforcements approaching from the south—an Mi-24 Hind, tanks, and a transport aircraft. This was a serious force, and they were coming in hot.

Light frowned as he assessed the situation. “Oh damn… this is bad. But no worries, we can handle this. Everyone, hold your positions. We’ll meet their reinforcements with our machine gun units and minefields. It won’t be a stalemate here!”

His troops nodded, keeping their cool. They knew they could hold the line. Sure, the enemy reinforcements were big, but they were ready to defend. Following Light’s orders, they weren’t giving an inch.

As Light watched his units dig in, he began searching for weaknesses in the enemy’s defenses. “Maybe there’s a way we can turn this around…”

He noticed the enemy had weak air defenses—only one Hind covering their entire force. If his air unit could take that bird down, it would open up a huge opportunity for his troops.

“This is our chance! We need to exploit their weak air defense! Get my ace pilot on that Hind! And everyone, focus fire on it! If we take out their air support, we can push them back without worrying about getting bombed!”

The troops quickly responded, raising their weapons and zeroing in on the Hind. Light’s ace pilot sprang into action, using a modified glidder dodging enemy fire as he flew toward the target. The Hind tried to evade with some slick maneuvers, but Light’s ace stayed locked on and scored a hit.

Light couldn’t hide his excitement as he watched the Hind go down. “Yes! Finally, we took out their air support. Now we can breathe a little easier.” He turned to his troops, all fired up. “Now, take out that transport aircraft! We can’t let those reinforcements reach us! Call in artillery support to the front! We need to destroy them before they get close!”

His troops reacted instantly, opening fire on the transport aircraft. Even the machine gun units switched their targets. The artillery unit got the message, redirecting their fire and unleashing devastating explosions on the enemy reinforcements.

 

Light grinned at the chaos they had unleashed. “We’ve blown a massive hole in their formation! Now’s our chance to push them out!” He bellowed his command, “All troops, move forward! Drive the enemy back to our main line! Don’t give them a second to regroup! We’ll turn this front into a slaughterhouse!”

His troops sprang into action, charging toward the enemy reinforcements. Light kept the front line firing and advancing, but the enemy didn’t sit idle—they opened fire, and the battlefield erupted into a brutal bloodbath. Casualties piled up on both sides, and it was getting messy fast. Light just hoped his troops wouldn’t lose their cool.

Amidst the chaos, Light noticed his troops holding their ground. They kept their formation and returned fire, even as the enemy pushed back. It was a sign of a solid unit, but the cost was high. He could see the death toll rising, and he prayed his men wouldn’t break under pressure—that would just lead to more unnecessary losses.

Then he spotted it—a gap in the enemy line. The troops on either side of it weren’t well coordinated, too focused on their main defenses to notice. “That’s our ticket!” Light thought, excitement coursing through him.

Without wasting a moment, he shouted, “Infantry, push through that gap! Machine gun unit, cover their advance and keep firing at the main force! Break through and don’t stop until you reach their command center! Once you’re in, our machine gunners will focus on the main force, and our ace will keep air support. Artillery, you know what to do—create more gaps and cut off any reinforcements coming in!”

His troops roared in response, charging toward the gap with the machine gunners laying down cover fire. Light’s ace pilot kept watch, ready to take out any lingering enemy air support, while the artillery pounded the enemy’s rear line, cutting off reinforcements. Light’s troops surged forward, transforming the gap into a deadly trap for the enemy.

“This is it,” Light thought, adrenaline pumping. “One mistake could spell disaster. We’ve got to keep our heads and move with precision. If we play this right, we can wipe them out!”

Everyone was laser-focused, no one daring to mess up. The machine gunners unleashed hell on the enemy’s main line, making sure they couldn’t even peek out to return fire. Light’s ace pilot scanned the skies, taking down any enemy aircraft trying to make a move.

Then it happened—the enemy started to retreat. Some soldiers dropped their weapons and ran, while only a few stubborn ones hung on. Light’s troops kept the pressure on, pushing the main force back toward their rear line. The machine gunners turned their fire on the incoming reinforcements, keeping them pinned down. The ace pilot maintained air superiority, swiftly taking out any approaching aircraft. The enemy was cut off and isolated.

Light watched as his troops advanced, the machine gunners hammering the enemy’s position. The advantage was theirs. “No room for mistakes now. I’ve got to keep everyone sharp. We can’t let the enemy exploit any openings. If we keep this up, we’ll deal them a crushing blow. This is our moment to finish this fight!”

The air crackled with tension. Every soldier knew exactly what they had to do, The soldiers with the rapid-fire guns kept the enemy pinned down, making it impossible for them to show themselves. Light's ace kept the skies clear, destroying any planes that came near

As the enemy continued to crumble, more and more soldiers threw down their weapons and fled. Only the most stubborn kept fighting. Light’s troops pressed on, driving the main force back, while the machine gunners focused on the incoming reinforcements. It was a symphony of gunfire and chaos as they isolated their foes.

 

aftermath of battlefield, it was chaos. Bodies of enemy soldiers littered the ground, wrecked tanks smoldered in the fading light, and smoke hung thick in the air. The scene was a complete disaster, but their enemy was decimated.

 

As the sun dipped below the horizon, the remaining merc started looting the dead, finishing off the wounded like it was some twisted game. They waved their weapons in the air, firing randomly and celebrating their little victory, wasting ammo like it was nothing.

 

Boris stood next to Light, surveying the wreckage. “The Khaganate is no more. They’ve been defeated on every front,” he said, his voice steady.

 

Light nodded, his eyes locked on the sunset, lost in thought.

One week later, Alam was determined to reach the new general who had led the Wanderer mercenaries to victory in Tibet. His name was Light, a rising star in the world of warlords, and Alam had a campaign of his own brewing.

“Alright, I hear you led a successful campaign in Tibet without reinforcements,” Alam began, trying to sound as casual as possible.

“Mhm,” Light replied, a sly smile creeping across his face. “Without too many casualties among my troops. Feels good to win like this.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Alam waved his hand dismissively. “Anyway, I need your expert advice on my campaign to conquer the Xian Empire. I need your insight.”

“Sure thing! Lay it on me. What are we working with here? Your army? The enemy’s? Their positions? Resources?” Light leaned back, clearly intrigued.

Alam took a deep breath. “Okay, my army has besieged the capital. They seem blissfully unaware of my actual numbers. Right now, I’ve got 100 veteran infantry, 10 IFVs, and 1 Hind. Meanwhile, Xian has over a thousand troops and anti-aircraft defenses. They’ve got two strong points: Xian City and Xianyang City, separated by a river.”

 

“Oof, sounds rough,” Light remarked, raising an eyebrow. “You’re outnumbered and outgunned. They’ve got heavy weaponry and two easily defensible cities. And a river? That’s just unfair! But hey, what’s your plan?”

Alam straightened up, his determination shining through. “Well, I’ve ordered a dam to be built. I’m planning to flood them out and force them to rethink their defenses. My first target is Xianyang to the north. The dam is already under construction, and I’m speeding things up by working with the locals for tools and manpower. I’m raiding their resources too. The plan is to make Xian City unable to attack while I focus on Xianyang. I’m going to destroy the bridge between them to cut off reinforcements. My raiding party is already hitting Xianyang now.”

Light nodded appreciatively. “Hmm, good plan, but watch out for a counterattack from the south. Be ready to move your troops to intercept. And about your raiding party? If they get trapped, they’re toast.”

“I’ve got that covered,” Alam replied confidently. “I built decoy IFVs and a decoy Hind to take the first hits near the dam. My raiders are seasoned guerrilla fighters; they’ll attack at random intervals to keep the enemy guessing.”

“Smart! If you pull this off, Xianyang will fall like ripe fruit,” Light said, leaning back further. “Just remember, don’t underestimate the enemy.”

Alam sighed heavily. “The dam’s construction is taking six months... How do I keep my true numbers hidden?”

Light shrugged. “Why keep it a secret? They already underestimate you. If they feared you, they would’ve countered on day one.”

“Exactly!” Alam replied, frustration creeping into his voice. “If they thought I was a real threat, they’d have attacked. They’re still scared of me, I think.”

 

“I get it,” Light said, nodding. “But if it were me, I’d want to finish them off quickly. Sieges are a drag. And don’t forget—destroy their crops! Starve them out and cut their supply lines.”

 

Light grinned. “Just my two cents. Your plan is solid; just watch the execution and timing.”

 

“Classic advice,” Alam said with a hint of sarcasm. “But I want to be a liberator, not a conqueror. If I wanted to wipe out Xian, I’d just carpet bombing them”

 

“Really? You want their trust? That’s ambitious!” Light chuckled. “Just remember, the faster you win without bloodshed, the better your reputation. And for the love of all that’s holy, don’t get addicted to victory like I did. You’ll regret it!”

 

“Right,” Alam replied, a thoughtful look crossing his face. “I’m actually thinking of some propaganda. The nearby settlements are sympathetic to my cause—they trade with us and even provide manpower. Maybe a coup?”

 

“Now we’re talking!” Light said, his eyes lighting up. “Make a deal with the local merchant union. If they’re on your side, you won’t even need propaganda—they’ll do the heavy lifting for you. And about that coup… anyone got a grudge against the emperor?”

 

“Maybe,” Alam said, scratching his chin. “The Xian Empire has a mediocre reputation, but there’s someone even more hated nearby. Luckily, my forces are the most respected.”

 

“Perfect! If you can get support from someone more hated than the emperor, you’re golden. Just remember, keep it clean—manipulate the political scene instead of going full Rambo. Less blood, more community support,” Light advised.

 

“Uh, I’ve never staged a coup before. What do you suggest?” Alam asked, a hint of uncertainty in his voice.

“Win over the richest, most influential merchant. Get their favor, and you can sway the others. Use favors, gifts, or even a little blackmail. Whatever works! They’ll spread the word that the emperor’s a tyrant and you’re the fair alternative,” Light said, a mischievous glint in his eye.

Alam frowned, considering the implications. He’d used similar tactics against the Khaganate and the Flying Dragon, but those were smaller, more contained operations. Spreading rumors across a vast, populated territory like the Xian Empire felt… different. More toxic.

“Spreading rumors sounds shady, but it’s better than bombs or poison gas. I’ll save that plan for later,” Alam replied,

 “Exactly! If you want a quick win, propaganda is your best friend. Prove to the people the emperor is a tyrant who doesn’t care about their welfare. Show them you’re the fair and just alternative.” Light leaned forward, his enthusiasm growing. “If you do it right, the people will believe every word you say. Just remember, be charming!”

Chapter 36 Xian campaign

 

The next day, Alam returned to the siege of Xian as dark clouds loomed overhead, unleashing a relentless downpour.

 

This was the gateway to China—the Xian Empire, a remnant of the old government acting like medieval emperors, residing in an ancient palace. The city was surrounded by walls made from the ruins of ancient skyscrapers, and local bandits patrolled the area. To the Xian emperor, the True Horde was just another pesky warlord, blissfully unaware of the looming threat posed by the Red Nation in the bigger picture. Capturing and defeating the Xian Empire was crucial for Alam.

The capital was split by the Wei River: Xian to the south, Xianyang to the north. The walls, built from ruined buildings, were sloped against artillery but still tough.

Fang, observing the city from a distance, spotted an open field with minimal cover—just the foundations of the old city. Xian City was a fortress beyond.

“Looks like we’re in for a storm,” Fang remarked, glancing at the ominous sky. “We should prepare for flooding that could impact our operations.”

 

“Yeah, yeah,” Alam replied, squinting at the rain-soaked landscape. “But what about the enemy? Any signs of movement?”

 

Fang shook her head, her expression serious. “According to the latest intel, the Empire of Xian is gearing up for a counterattack. They’re reinforcing their defenses and positioning troops near our dam construction site. Expect an attack very soon.”

 

“Great,” Alam sighed. “I underestimated them. I thought they’d be scared of our numbers, but this rainy season will help us—it’ll slow them down in the open. But if they stick to the roads, we’re in trouble. So, let’s put mines on that damn road!”

 

“Good call,” Fang agreed. “The rain could give us a tactical advantage, but we have to make sure they don’t take the roads easily. Those mines will slow them down and cause chaos.”

 

“Exactly!” Alam’s confidence surged. “Plus, the threat to the dam will be more pressing with the rain. And listen, one of my new officers suggested we could win this battle quickly and pull off a coup. We can spread rumors and propaganda in the city.”

 

“Now that’s a plan,” Fang said, her eyes lighting up. “The rain will certainly increase the threat to our dam, and chaos within the Empire of Xian could make this battle much easier for us. We should absolutely push that idea forward.”

 

“Unfortunately, my best agent isn’t here,” Alam said, frustration creeping in. “I need someone new to handle the propaganda while I oversee the dam construction and defenses.”

 

“Agreed,” Fang replied. “It’s a shame your top agent isn’t around, but we can’t neglect the dam or our forces. I’ll find a suitable candidate for the propaganda operation.”

 

“Thanks, Fang. Find a volunteer,” Alam instructed, feeling the pressure of leadership tighten around him.

 

By the fourth day of the siege, Alam was growing impatient.

 

“The siege has reached its fourth day,” Fang reported. “We’re maintaining pressure on the enemy’s defenses, making slow but steady progress. We’re using our superior numbers and firepower to wear them down piece by piece. Mine-laying and air attacks are further sapping their morale.”

 

“Great. And what about our agent?” Alam asked, eager for updates.

 

“Good news! I’ve identified a suitable candidate for our propaganda operation,” Fang said, her voice brimming with excitement. “They’re a loyal volunteer, ready to execute this task effectively.”

 

“Send them to me now,” Alam ordered, feeling a surge of hope.

 

Fang nodded and dispatched the volunteer agent to Alam’s location.

 

Moments later, a young man approached, a confident smile on his face.

 

“My name is Jiang,” he said, extending his hand. “It’s a pleasure to meet you and work with the Wanderer Army. I’m ready to execute the propaganda and rumor-spreading operation. I understand the sensitivity of this task, and I’ll carry it out with precision.”

 

Alam eyed Jiang, impressed. “Alright, Jiang. We need to create chaos in the Empire of Xian. Your job is to spread rumors that undermine their morale and create dissent. Can you handle that?”

 

“Absolutely,” Jiang replied confidently. “I’ve got experience in this sort of operation. Just give me the green light, and I’ll make it happen.”

 

“Good. Show me what you’ve got,” Alam said, curious about Jiang’s qualifications.

 

Jiang activated his camouflage cloak, transforming into a shimmering, water-like figure, before returning to his normal appearance.

 

Alam blinked in surprise, impressed. “Okay, I see you’ve got skills. But why betray your empire?”

 

“I’m a former spy for the Empire of Xian,” Jiang explained calmly. “I defected to the Wanderer Army after witnessing the atrocities committed against its people. I couldn’t support such a cruel regime anymore. The Wanderer Army stands for freedom and justice, and I believe in its fight against the Empire.”

 

“Right,” Alam said, narrowing his eyes. “But how do I know you’re not a double agent?”

 

Jiang met Alam’s gaze steadily. “I assure you, I’m not a double agent. I’ve sworn an oath to serve the Wanderer Army. I understand the importance of my work, and I won’t falter in my loyalty.”

 

Alam raised an eyebrow. “What kind of atrocities are we talking about?”

 

“I’ve documented many atrocities committed by the Empire of Xian,” Jiang replied. “Mass indoctrination, imprisonment of dissidents, brutal oppression of minorities, forced labor camps—you name it. they even work with local bandit to created cycle of violence. to justify their power,  I couldn’t stay in a regime rife with evil.”

 

“Do you have evidence to support your claims?” Alam asked, skeptical.

 

“Yes, I do,” Jiang said, producing a data disc. “This contains footage, testimonies, and documentation of the Empire’s brutality. It’s all up-to-date and could be useful for our propaganda efforts.”

 

“Show me,” Alam demanded, intrigued.

 

Jiang handed over the disc. “It paints a clear picture of the Empire’s cruelty. I hope it can assist you and the Wanderer Army.”

 

Alam examined the disc, tapping his lips thoughtfully. “Alright, Jiang. I’m halfway to trusting you.” He handed Jiang a silenced pistol.

 

Jiang took the pistol, inspecting it closely. “I appreciate your trust. I’ll use this to ensure our operations are carried out discreetly.”

 

Alam chuckled. “Just so you know, that pistol is unloaded. You’re not about to kill me with a toy.”

 

Jiang nodded, unfazed. “Yes, it’s a prop for intimidation. I understand your caution, and I’ll prove my loyalty.”

 

“Okay, so what’s your plan for spreading rumors and propaganda?” Alam asked, eager for details.

 

Jiang grinned. “It’s a three-tiered operation. First, we’ll spread rumors about the Empire’s oppression using covert channels like whispering campaigns. Second, we’ll distribute propaganda materials—pamphlets, leaflets, you name it. Lastly, we’ll leverage my underground contacts to amplify our message.”

 

Alam raised an eyebrow. “You’ve got a tunnel network? Impressive! So, this siege is your chance, isn’t it?”

 

“Exactly,” Jiang replied. “The siege provides the perfect opportunity to exploit my network and spread chaos. I believe we can undermine the Empire’s authority and create instability.”

 

“Alright, Jiang. You’ll conduct some... creative operations. We can provide you with the tools,” Alam said, feeling more confident about their chances.

 

“I’m skilled in the techniques of sabotage and subterfuge,” Jiang said, a hint of mischief in his eyes. “Just give me what I need, and I’ll handle the rest.”

 

“Good. Speak to Fang. She’ll set you up with everything you need,” Alam instructed.

 

“Got it,” Jiang replied. “Before I head out, what’s the situation like in Xian?”

 

“It’s tense and unstable,” Jiang noted. “The siege has instilled fear and uncertainty among the citizens. They’re facing food shortages and rising prices, creating a real sense of unrest that we can take advantage of.”

 

“Perfect,” Alam said, a grin spreading across his face. “I don’t want this siege to drag on. Jiang, you’re my joker card now. Good luck out there.”

 

“I won’t let you down,” Jiang said, saluting with determination. “Let’s show the Empire of Xian the true strength of the Wanderer Army and unite the people against their oppressors. We will triumph!”

 

As the siege dragged on, the rain continued its relentless assault on the fifth day, providing a perfect backdrop for Jiang’s covert mission. Cloaked in his chameleon-like camouflage, he effortlessly scaled the rain-slicked walls, moving with the practiced ease of a seasoned infiltrator. Not a single alarm was triggered, not a guard alerted to his presence. He slipped into the city like a phantom, melting into the shadows of the narrow, rain-washed streets. His destination: MC Pizza and Grill.

The establishment wasn’t exactly a culinary hotspot—more of a greasy spoon masquerading as a fast-food joint. But for Jiang, it was HQ. Inside, he shed his cloak, revealing the familiar red and white uniform of an MC Pizza delivery driver. He pulled a matching cap low over his face, effectively completing his disguise. Beneath a stack of pizza boxes, carefully concealed, lay his true cargo: carefully crafted propaganda messages, ready to be disseminated throughout the city.

He set off, a stack of "hot and ready" lies and half-truths balanced precariously in his arms. He navigated the rain-slicked streets with practiced ease, blending seamlessly with the flow of civilian traffic. The Xian guards, with their distinctive yellow uniforms, modern body armor, and tightly bound hair secured with red ribbons, were a stark contrast to the ragtag appearance of the local populace and the remnants of other warlord’s armies. The higher-ranking officers, however, were a different story. They sported advanced tech, like the AI sensor mounted on one officer’s shoulder, which scanned the surrounding area with cold, calculating precision.

As Jiang rounded a corner, he came face-to-face with one such officer. The sensor swivelled, fixing its unblinking eye on him. “Halt!” the officer barked, his voice amplified by a small speaker on his collar.

Jiang froze for a split second, weighing his options. Flight was risky, compliance a gamble. He opted for the latter, plastering a disarming, innocent expression on his face as he turned to face the officer.

The sensor whirred, scanning Jiang from head to toe. “You failed to report to the city line yesterday,” the officer stated, gesturing to small devices mounted at each street corner, designed to monitor civilian movement and maintain order.

“Uh, yeah,” Jiang stammered, feigning a wince and holding up a hand, the knuckles faintly reddened. “Had a little… kitchen accident, you know? Burnt my hand pretty bad. Had to see the doc.” The redness, of course, was from his earlier climb over the rough stone of the city wall.

The officer paused, his sensor still fixed on Jiang. For a tense moment, Jiang held his breath. Then, with a dismissive wave of his hand, the officer grunted, “Move along.”

Jiang offered a quick nod of thanks and continued on his delivery route, a bead of sweat trickling down his temple. He could feel the officer’s sensor tracking him for a few more moments before it finally turned away.

With renewed focus, Jiang resumed his clandestine campaign.. The seeds of doubt and discontent were sown. Confusion and mistrust began to fester within the population, slowly eroding the Empire’s control.

Later that midday, the rain continued to pour, and Alam sat in the makeshift tent, surrounded by his officers. Most of them were new recruits from the Mongolian warlord ranks who had joined the True Horde.

 

“Alright, how’s our progress with the mines and traps on the road?” Alam asked, shifting his attention to the officer standing before him.

 

“Your Excellency’, our progress is right on track,” the officer replied, visibly trying to impress. “We’ve deployed the mines and traps in key locations and are finalizing their operational readiness. We’ve even set up remote-detonation capabilities, so we can trigger them at our discretion. We expect everything to be ready within the next two days.”

 

“Good,” Alam nodded, feeling a surge of confidence. “That should discourage any enemy counterattack. I just hope they don’t know our real numbers. If they do, their morale will skyrocket.”

 

“Unlikely,” the officer reassured him. “We’ve concealed our forces well. The enemy is probably underestimating us. As long as we keep our numbers hidden, we can maintain their low morale until the right moment to strike.”

 

“Exactly. I have high hopes for our new agent. If he succeeds, there might not even be a need for a siege or a flood plan,” Alam said, a hint of optimism creeping into his voice.

 

“Absolutely, Excellency’. Our new agent has shown remarkable skill,” the officer said, his enthusiasm palpable. “If he continues to influence the population within the Empire of Xian, we could end this siege sooner than expected. The weakened regime will be ripe for the picking!”

 

“Please, don’t call me ‘Your Excellency’! It makes me sound like a bloated emperor or something!” Alam chuckled, shaking his head.

 

The officer stammered, “I apologize, Sir! What should I call you? Lord? Sire? Your Highness?”

 

“Just ‘Sir’ or ‘General’ is fine. I don’t care about titles,” Alam replied, rolling his eyes.

 

“Understood, Sir. Your leadership has been crucial to our campaign. It’s an honor to serve you,” the officer said, his tone dripping with sincerity.

 

“Alright, what’s your rank, officer?” Alam asked, trying to remember names and faces in the chaos of war.

 

“I’m a Major, Sir. I’ve been instrumental in strategizing and executing our military operations since the inception of the Wanderer Army. I’ve learned a lot from your strategic wisdom,” the officer said, puffing out his chest.

 

“Sorry, it’s just hard to remember everyone’s face and name,” Alam admitted, feeling a bit guilty.

 

“No need to apologize, Sir. In war, it’s tough to keep track of names. Just focus on the campaign,” the officer reassured him. “We’ve made tremendous progress, and the time to strike is approaching. Let’s keep morale high.”

 

“Right. Keep up the good work,” Alam said, feeling a sense of camaraderie wash over him.

 

 

 

The sixth morning of the siege dawned clear. From his vantage point, Alam scanned Xian through his binoculars. The siege was proceeding as planned. The rain had stopped, revealing the Wanderer Army’s network of mines and traps, now ready for detonation. Sharpshooters traded fire across the muddy field, the distinct crack of Wanderer rifles finding their mark more often than not. When enemy mortars targeted their snipers, IFVs promptly retrieved them, maintaining their advantage. The city gates remained firmly shut, the Xian defenders showing no signs of aggression. Alam watched his troops move with disciplined efficiency along the perimeter.

 

“This is weird,” he muttered to himself. “They have the numbers, but why haven’t they attacked yet? Is Jiang doing his job well?”

 

Meanwhile, Jiang had been busy conducting covert operations aimed at weakening the Empire of Xian's authority. His tactics included spreading anti-Xian rumors, assassinating key government officials, and bombing crucial infrastructure. These efforts had sown confusion and mistrust among the population, significantly undermining the Empire's legitimacy.

 

So far, all signs pointed to success. The enemy forces hadn’t launched a counterattack or increased their aerial bombardments.

 

“Maybe they’re just waiting for the right moment to strike,” Alam mused, adjusting his binoculars. “Or maybe they’re too busy dealing with their own mess. Either way, we need to capitalize on this.”

 

He couldn’t shake the feeling that Jiang’s influence was working wonders. If the Empire of Xian was crumbling from the inside, the Wanderer Army might just have a shot at a swift victory. The rain might have turned into a metaphorical storm for their enemies, and Alam was ready to ride that wave to success.

On the seven day of the siege of Xian, the rain continued to pour, drenching Alam as he surveyed the dam's construction from his tent. Progress was steady—almost too steady—and Alam could see the dam nearing completion. But he knew better than to pop the champagne just yet. The Wanderer Army’s mining and trapping operations could disrupt everything, but he needed to wait to see how that played out.

 

“Hey! This is moving faster than we planned!” Alam called to Fang, who was busy scribbling notes. “Let’s send a letter to the Empire of Xian, asking them to surrender. They’re aware of what we’re capable of, right?”

 

“As you wish, General,” Fang replied, rolling her eyes at the formality. “I’ll deliver the letter. The Wanderer Army has shown its power. The Empire must know the disaster that awaits them if we follow through with the flood plan. I’ll dispatch it immediately and return with their answer.”

 

“Great,” Alam said, rubbing his hands together. “Now, let’s see if they have the sense to save their skins.”

 

 

 

The next morning, as a mild rain drizzled from the gray sky, Alam sat anxiously in his tent, waiting for Fang’s return. Hours dragged on until a messenger burst in, breathless and soaked.

“What do they say?” Alam asked, barely able to contain his anticipation. while other officer look at the messeger with anticipation

The messenger shook his head, “The Empire of Xian refuses to surrender.” He then give the letter's 'We will not give our land to you, you smelly Turk. Our walls are strong. Our soldiers are virtuous. Bring on your slings and arrows.'”

Alam read the letter, his expression hardening. he actually impressed they bother to write on paper with ink for archaic insult,alam clear his throat “So, they choose defiance,” he said, his voice flat. “Very well. The flood will proceed as planned.”

“Indeed, General,” the messenger confirmed. “Our attempts at negotiation have failed. This is the only way to achieve a swift victory.”

Alam nodded, his gaze fixed on the map of the region. “A swift victory is what we need. This isn’t about breaking their spirit; it’s about ending this conflict quickly and minimizing further losses on both sides.” He sighed. “Casualties will be unavoidable… but perhaps fewer than a prolonged siege.”

Alam notice the grim atsmosphere in tent,he then change his tone a bit to make less gloomy Alam sighed, a weary smile touching his lips. "Well, they asked for it. Let's see if their virtous soldier can swim."some officer face is light up again.

 

Chapter 37 The flood

 

A few hours later, with an umbrella in hand, Alam strolled to a nearby village, seeking the middle-aged woman who sold him tea a week ago. He found her still at her stall, a warm smile lighting up her face despite the rain-slicked streets.

 

“Ah, General Alam! It’s good to see you again,” she greeted, though Alam noticed the streets were quieter, the siege taking its toll on the villagers.

 

“Hey there! So, umm, do you know who I am?” he asked, half-joking.

 

“Of course, General,” she replied, pouring him a cup of tea. “I’ve seen the banners flying high over Xian’s walls. It’s a pleasure to see you again, though I’m afraid business is slow these days.”

 

“Yeah, I’m kind of famous now, huh?” Alam said, sipping his tea with a heavy sigh.

 

“Oh, absolutely! Your campaign against the Empire has made quite the impression. But tell me, how is the siege going?” she asked, genuine curiosity in her eyes.

 

“It’s… a stalemate,” Alam admitted, scratching his head. “But there’s a reason I built that dam. I plan to defeat the Empire of Xian the hard way.”

 

“A stalemate? Really? I expected you to have overwhelmed them by now,” she replied, surprised. “But I suppose their determination to defend themselves is commendable. Do you have a plan to end this?”

 

“Yes, I’ve found some deserters from the Empire. They agreed to cause chaos inside the city, but it hasn’t been enough to make them surrender. Do you know how their government works?”

 

“Ah, I see. The deserters didn’t do the trick, huh? Well, I’m no expert, but the Empire operates under a patriarchal feudal system. The Emperor is the absolute ruler, surrounded by elite families who control everything. It’s a tight-knit group,” she explained.

 

“So the Emperor is secretive, then?” Alam asked, intrigued.

 

“Yes, he’s been reclusive for years. Only a handful of trusted advisors are close to him. He’s become something of a ghost,” she replied.

 

“Interesting. You’ve lived here long, right? Did the Empire always have this grip on power?” Alam pressed.

 

“I’ve lived here for years. The Empire of Xian has ruled for over two centuries, though much of its history is a mystery. They’ve faced internal conflicts, but they’ve maintained dominance,” she said.

 

“Wow, shocking that nobody’s heard of this empire before. Oh! Did the Blood Khaganate attack this area too?” Alam suddenly asked.

 

“Yes, indeed,” she said, a hint of fear in her voice. “The Blood Khaganate has historically been a dominant force, waging war against anyone for control. They’ve attacked this village and surrounding areas before, leaving a trail of bloodshed. Their presence has caused much instability in the region.”

 

“Do you have any idea how many soldiers are garrisoned in Xian City?” he asked the middle-aged woman selling tea.

 

“I can’t give you exact numbers, but I’d guess they have several thousand troops holed up in there. Xian’s a massive city with thick walls and a strong defense system,” she replied, her brow furrowing.

 

alam Coughing “, what kind of defenses are we talking about?” Alam pressed, his curiosity piqued.

 

“The Empire’s defenses are no joke,” she said, rolling her eyes. “Think thick walls, ramparts, towers, and fortresses, all manned by experienced soldiers and commanders. Breaking through will be a real challenge for us.”

 

“Great. Just what I wanted to hear,” Alam muttered. “What about any fancy tech? They got anything that’ll blow us up real good?”

 

“Oh, absolutely! I’ve heard they’ve got artillery, cannons, mortars, and even rocket launchers. Rumor has it they’ve developed some new explosives too. They’ve used it effectively against the Blood Khaganate and other enemies,” she explained, her voice dripping with sarcasm. “So, yes, they’re a formidable opponent.”

 

“Thanks for the info,” Alam said, taking a sip of her tea, the warmth contrasting with the bleakness of their situation.

 

 

 

Later that afternoon, Alam inspected the Wanderer Army's IFVs and checked on soldier morale in their tent. The atmosphere buzzed with activity: engines revved, weapons were cleaned, and soldiers engaged in training drills. Despite the lively chaos, Alam felt the weight of the impending battle.

 

“Hey Fang, any news from our agent Jiang?” he asked, glancing up as she entered.

 

“Yes, General. Jiang has successfully infiltrated the Empire of Xian,” Fang reported. “He’s provided us with valuable intelligence. They’re gearing up for a counterattack, utilizing their advanced weaponry. He also mentioned that the enemy forces are gathering in a specific area of the city.”

 

“Great. And how’s our dam coming along?” Alam pressed.

 

“The dam’s almost complete. Just the final touches left before we can activate it. Our engineers are working day and night, fully aware of its importance in the flood plan,” Fang replied, her tone brisk.

 

“Are they working at night too?” Alam asked, raising an eyebrow.

 

“Of course. They know how crucial this is. They won’t stop until the dam is ready,” she assured him.

 

Alam grinned, a mischievous glint in his eye. “Tonight, I want every bridge on the Wiehe River blown to smithereens. Let’s see some fireworks!”

 

“Yes, General. The plan to detonate the bridges has been carefully calculated for maximum chaos,” Fang confirmed. “This will create a spectacular display and disrupt the Empire’s defenses. Let’s hope it cripples their ability to counterattack.”

 

“Just the bridges, not the flood yet,” Alam clarified, excitement bubbling.

 

“Got it. The bridge explosions will cause immediate chaos, but we hold off on the flood for now. It’ll buy us time,” Fang agreed.

 

“Yes, and it’ll make their general rethink their strategy. We’ll have more time to finish the dam!” Alam chuckled, rubbing his hands together.

 

“Exactly. The blast will confuse them, giving us an edge. Our engineers are confident they can finish the dam in time for the flood plan,” Fang said, her gaze steady.

 

“Good. Let’s make this happen,” Alam said, determination etched on his face.

 

 

 

A few hours later, in the dead of night, Alam stood watch, scanning the direction of Xian and Xianyang City. He felt the anticipation crackle in the air as he awaited the explosions.

 

Moments later, a series of bright flashes lit up the night sky. Alam’s heart raced as he witnessed the bridges over the Wiehe River erupt in a cacophony of fire and debris. The explosions were so powerful that they echoed for miles, a fiery prelude to chaos.

 

He watched with satisfaction as the bridges collapsed, their destruction marking the beginning of the Wanderer Army’s final offensive against the Empire of Xian. “Let’s see how they handle this,” he muttered, a grin spreading across his face. The fireworks were just the start; the real show was yet to come.

On the 10th day of the siege of Xian, the Wanderer Army was poised for its final offensive. With the bridges over the Wiehe River in ruins, the Empire of Xian’s defenses lay in tatters. Alam could feel the excitement bubbling among his troops; they were eager to unleash chaos on their enemy.

 

A runner burst into the command tent, breathless. “General! Movement on the south wall! We think they’re preparing to attack!” Alam’s hand tightened on his pen. He exchanged a tense glance with Fang. Was this it? Had they seen through the deception? Then another runner arrived, equally breathless. “False alarm, sir! Just a patrol. They’re reinforcing their positions, but no signs of an immediate attack.” The tension in the tent eased slightly, but a new unease settled in. They were still out there, waiting, watching.

 

alam then sigh “If I were the general of Xian, I’d be sweating bullets right now,” Alam chuckled. “What would your priority be if you were in their shoes?”

 

“I'd focus on reinforcing defenses and rallying my troops for a counterattack,” Fang said, her eyes gleaming with strategic savvy. “I’d leverage our numerical and technological advantages to reclaim the initiative.”

 

“Alright, then how would you attack me?” Alam quipped, crossing his arms.

 

“I’d unleash a blitzkrieg, overwhelming your rear with numbers,” Fang replied, her tone serious. “Aerial and artillery strikes would disrupt your command centers, creating chaos.”

 

“Sounds like a plan. And if you were in charge, what would your reaction be to our dam?” Alam probed.

 

“I’d be extremely concerned. A flood would wreak havoc on our defenses. Stopping your engineers from releasing the waters would be my top priority,” she said, her seriousness evident.

 

“Right. So, if I took out one sector, you’d cancel the attack?” Alam asked.

 

“Absolutely. I’d focus on defending the most vulnerable areas and avoid a poorly coordinated counterstrike,” she nodded.

 

“Good thinking,” Alam said, eyeing the map. “For the flood plan, I’ve done my research. Altering the flow south toward Xian will be more devastating than north to Xiangyang. We have two days before the dam is operational. I’ll place decoys in the south to make them think we’re attacking there while our main force strikes north after the flood.”

 

“Clever gamble, General. The decoys will draw their attention, allowing your main force to hit while their defenses are spread thin,” Fang acknowledged. “But it’s risky.”

 

“Yes, but it’s a risk that pays off. Plus, Jiang’s tunnel network is our ace. He likely has his own militia ready to help secure key points in Xiangyang,” Alam said, excitement mounting.

 

“Indeed, Jiang’s local resistance could provide a significant advantage for our final offensive,” Fang agreed.

 

“Good. Let’s gather for a war council and lay out the plan,” Alam instructed, adrenaline surging through him.

 

 

 

In the dim war tent, officers gathered, ready for Alam’s strategy. After he laid out his plan, murmurs of approval filled the air.

 

“Damn, that sounds solid,” one officer grinned. “They’ll be so focused on the south; they won’t see the real attack coming!”

 

Light, a seasoned strategist, chimed in on monitor while his still in tibet. “They’ll expect a southern assault after the flood. While they fortify that flank, you hit them hard in the north. If they’re caught off-guard, it’s game over.”

 

“Double kill!” Alam exclaimed, rubbing his hands together. “Let’s pray they don’t counterattack in the next two days. If they do, we’re toast.”

 

“Relax. They won’t do anything unexpected. They’ll be too busy scrambling after the flood,” Light smirked. “If they send a small force north, just give the illusion of being overwhelmed. That’ll keep their reinforcements tied up.”

 

“Exactly! Let’s hope they’re too distracted to launch a counter-offensive before we strike!” Alam said, determination etched on his face.

 

The war council wrapped up, and as day ten dawned, Alam felt the tension in the air.

 

“Fang, report!” he commanded as she entered.

 

“General Alam, our agents say the Empire of Xian is still recovering. They’re not at full strength, and there’s no sign of a counter-offensive,” she stated. “The dam is ready for activation. All systems are go for our attack and flood operation.”

 

“Good. Check on everyone. Tomorrow is our gamble,” Alam said, the weight of leadership pressing down on him.

 

“Understood, General. The Wanderer Army is prepared and eager for the fight. It’s a gamble, but we’re confident in victory,” Fang replied, her resolve matching his.

 

Alam trudged through the rain-soaked village, his mind still buzzing from the morning’s inspection of the dam and the sneaky decoys set up to throw off the Empire of Xian. As he got closer to the cozy little home of the middle-aged woman he’d met a week ago, he spotted her sitting outside, looking lost in thought. She looked worn out, like life had thrown her a few too many curveballs, but there was a calmness about her that caught his attention.

 

“Hey... you seem a bit gloomy today,” Alam said, trying to lighten the mood.

 

She sighed, her face showing a mix of tiredness and acceptance. Looking up, her eyes held a depth of sorrow that felt like it could cut right through him. “It’s hard not to be gloomy with all that’s happening,” she replied softly, her voice steady despite the chaos swirling around them.

 

Alam was struck by how composed she was, especially with everything going on outside. “Well, you know... can I at least know your name?” He tried to sound casual, but genuine curiosity slipped through.

 

After a moment, she nodded, her gaze steady. “My name is Luo Wen. And you, General?”

 

“Just Alam,” he said, flashing a sheepish grin that broke through his serious vibe. “Mind if I grab another cup of that tea?” He chuckled lightly, hoping to ease the heavy atmosphere.

 

Luo smiled back, her lips lifting just enough to show warmth. “I’ll get that for you,” she said, standing up to head inside. As she left, Alam took a moment to really look at her. The lines on her face told stories of hardship, but there was a resilience in her that fascinated him. Even with the threat of violence looming, her spirit seemed unbroken.

 

“What’s on your mind? You seem quiet today,” Alam asked as she returned with a steaming cup.

 

“Sometimes silence speaks louder than words,” she replied, her voice low and thoughtful, as if she was pondering something way beyond the chaos of the siege.

 

“Fair enough,” Alam said, taking a sip of the tea. It was warm and soothing, a nice break from the storm brewing outside. “Honestly, I'm kind of bored. It’s been ten days of this waiting game. I’ve even started writing a novel.”

 

Luo’s eyes lit up with interest, but she stayed quiet, her expression deep in thought. The weight of her gaze felt like an invitation to share more, but Alam wasn’t sure how to put his swirling thoughts into words.

 

“It’s just... I didn’t expect the war to drag on like this,” he continued, frustration bubbling up. “I thought we’d be done by now. Instead, I’m just sitting here, sipping tea and contemplating life choices.”

 

Luo nodded slowly, her expression serious. She had heard similar laments before, echoes of other survivors caught in the chaos of war. “You’re not alone in this,” she finally said, her voice a mix of empathy and strength. “Many have lost much and are searching for meaning amidst the destruction.”

 

Alam felt a strange comfort in her words. “Maybe we’ll meet again, Luo,” he said, standing up to leave, feeling a connection to this woman who seemed to see right through his façade.

 

“Maybe we will,” she replied, her gaze warm and steady. “Until then, take care, General Alam.”

 

On the 13rd day of the siege of Xian, General Alam stood on the edge of the desiccated Wiehe River, surveying the barren landscape that had once been a vital waterway. The Wanderer Army was primed for action, every soldier and engineer on high alert, waiting for the signal to unleash devastation. The anticipation crackled in the air, thick enough to slice with a knife.

 

“Alright, release the high water!” Alam commanded, his voice ringing with authority.

 

The engineers sprang into action, opening the dam’s sluices. A massive torrent of water surged forth, transforming the riverbed into a raging flood. The water roared as it swept downstream, ready to obliterate the remnants of the Empire of Xian's defenses. Alam grinned, watching the chaos unfold.

 

“North Army, attack Xiangyang!” he ordered, adrenaline pumping through his veins.

 

As the north flank charged across the newly flooded terrain, the Empire of Xian’s forces scrambled to respond. Their counterattack was half-hearted, a slapfight against an avalanche. The floodwaters had already wreaked havoc, and the Wanderer Army was gaining the upper hand.

 

“Looks like the flood’s having more fun in Xian City than we anticipated,” Alam muttered, noting how the southern garrison remained fixated on the decoys, blissfully unaware of the real threat looming in the north.

 

“Focus on their anti-air defenses! Our HINDs are itching to join the fray,” he added, his excitement palpable.

 

The attack was meticulously coordinated, the floodwaters covering one flank while the north army advanced on the other. The Empire of Xian’s anti-aircraft units were drawn southward, leaving their northern defenses wide open. The HIND gunships roared overhead, ready to rain down destruction.

 

Hours passed in a blur of chaos and noise. The Wanderer Army’s assault was relentless, the troops pressing forward with unyielding determination. The Empire of Xian was clearly in disarray, their defenses shattering under the pressure of the flood and the onslaught from the north.

 

“Let’s get to Xianyang and assess the damage,” Alam barked, climbing into an IFV to survey the situation firsthand. “Report! What’s the current status?”

 

“General, we’ve made substantial progress. Our forces are gaining ground, and the Empire’s defenses are collapsing, their gates is busted from the high water” an officer reported, urgency in his tone. “We’ve established air superiority, and the last-ditch attempts to counterattack are being repelled.”

 

“Good. Now let’s find that emperor and finish this once and for all!” Alam declared, his resolve hardening.

 

The soldiers huddled in the IFVs, the rumble of the engines a counterpoint to the pounding of their hearts. They checked their weapons for the tenth time, their faces grim. Some were whispering prayers, others were exchanging nervous jokes. The flood had changed everything. The city was now a maze of flooded streets and crumbling buildings,

 

The Wanderer Army surged toward Xianyang, determined to locate the emperor's palace for a final assault that would end the Empire of Xian’s reign. But as Alam pressed forward, he couldn’t shake the feeling of urgency.

 

“Any sign of the emperor? He might have slipped south to Xian,” he said, his brow furrowing.

 

“Intelligence suggests he’s holed up in the capital, along with his top advisors. He’s ready to make a stand,” came the reply.

 

“Damn! We’re cut off from the south by those destroyed bridges. Order our engineers to block the river flow again. We’ve captured Xianyang, but we can’t let him escape,” Alam commanded, frustration boiling beneath his calm exterior.

 

The engineers worked swiftly, reinforcing the dam to prevent any reinforcements from reaching the capital. The Wanderer Army now held Xianyang firmly, but the battle was far from over. The Imperial Palace loomed ahead, and Alam’s troops were ready for the final assault.

 

“Keep an eye on the civilians!” Alam barked as they swept through the city. “Make sure they stay indoors! Any movement on the streets will be treated as hostile!”

 

The troops nodded, setting up checkpoints and roadblocks, maintaining a tight grip on the situation.

 

“Fang, report now!” Alam demanded, feeling the pressure of the impending assault.

 

“The attack on Xianyang has gone exceedingly well,” Fang reported. “We’ve secured a strong foothold, cutting off all supply routes to the Imperial Army. All potential escape routes have been blocked, and we’re ready to move on the palace.”

 

“Good. What’s your advice?” Alam asked, his mind racing.

 

“Strike now, while they’re still scrambling. We need a swift, decisive attack on the Imperial Palace. Close-quarters combat is inevitable, and we can’t give them time to regroup,” she urged, her voice steady.

 

“Have we pinpointed the emperor’s location?” Alam inquired.

 

“Our best intel suggests he’s in the Imperial Palace at the center of Xian. But we must remain cautious; he could have fled or hidden elsewhere,” Fang warned.

 

“Damn! I miscalculated; I should have waited until nightfall. I’m an idiot,” Alam muttered, slapping his forehead.

 

“Take a breath, General. The pressure’s been intense. We need to make the best decision before committing to a final attack,” Fang reassured him.

 

“Let’s deploy a spec ops team. Can we still contact Jiang? Is he alive?” Alam asked, his determination returning.

 

“Absolutely. Jiang has been invaluable, providing us with crucial intel. His knowledge of the city will be essential for our spec ops team,” Fang confirmed.

 

“Perfect. Our goal is to eliminate the emperor, not to engage the entire army. We’ll send a volunteer team to track him down—Jiang can guide them through the chaos,” Alam strategized, feeling the adrenaline surge.

 

“That’s a solid plan. Jiang knows the layout and can exploit the confusion of night combat to strike effectively,” Fang agreed.

 

“Alright, but first, how are our casualties looking?” Alam pressed.

 

“We’ve lost about 20% of our forces, mostly infantry and light armor. The Empire has put up a stiff defense, but we’ve gained the upper hand,” Fang reported, her tone serious. “Expect more losses as we launch the final assault, but our resolve is strong.”

 

“Let’s make sure we finish this. The Empire of Xian won’t know what hit them,” Alam said, his voice steady and fierce. “Let’s make sure this ends tonight,” he said, his voice low and grim. “Before we lose any more.”As the tension mounted, he felt the weight of leadership on his shoulders, but also the thrill of impending victory.

Chapter 38 Empire crumble

The battle for Xian City was a chaotic dance of strategy and explosions. Jiang's meticulous planning had thankfully gotten most civilians out of the danger zone before the real fireworks started. The True Horde soldiers swarmed over the walls, securing the city block by block. It was a wild scene: Xian Camel Brigade charging alongside futuristic cars, tangling with Wanderer armored vehicles. The whole thing had become a glorious, noisy mess – a proper stalemate.

 

With a heavy sigh, General Alam gathered his thoughts. “Alright, our Spec Ops operation is the turning point of this war. No room for mistakes.”

 

Fang nodded, a serious glint in her eye. “The success of the Spec Ops team will determine everything. They must eliminate the Emperor and his inner circle without collateral damage. This is a high-stakes game, and we can’t afford to lose.”

 

“Good. Now proceed,” Alam ordered, the weight of the moment settling on him. He watched Fang go, the air thick with anticipation. Minutes bled into hours, the setting sun surrendering to a starless night. As midnight fell, the distant echoes of gunfire dwindled.

The Wanderer Spec Ops team, led by Jiang, moved like ghosts toward the Imperial Palace. With Xian’s AI sensors and generators sabotaged, the city guards were practically blind, making the shadows their perfect allies. Silence was their sharpest weapon.

“Stay sharp, team,” Jiang whispered, adrenaline humming through him. They moved through the inky darkness, the faint moonlight barely illuminating their path to the palace gates.

The heavy iron doors loomed ahead, a few Imperial Guards standing watch, looking uneasy in the darkness. Jiang signaled the team to form up, weapons drawn. “Remember: quick and quiet.”

They slipped through the gate into the courtyard, weapons raised, eyes constantly scanning. The courtyard was eerily silent, a stark contrast to the distant chaos still echoing through the city. Jiang led them with precision, his instincts razor sharp as they navigated the shadows.

As they crept toward the palace entrance, the interior was even darker, lit only by flickering torches that cast dancing shadows. The tension was palpable; each creak of the floorboards sounded like a gunshot in the oppressive silence.

They reached the Emperor's chambers. Two guards stood watch, their faces grim, weapons at the ready. Jiang signaled. Two team members silently flanked the guards, while Jiang and another prepared to breach the door. Jiang gave the signal, and the door burst open, revealing a lavishly decorated room. The Emperor sat on his throne, surrounded by several advisors. The guards reacted instantly, raising their weapons. The room exploded in gunfire. The Emperor, startled, half-rose from his throne, a look of stunned disbelief on his face as a bullet found its mark. His advisors scrambled for cover, some diving behind furniture, others frozen in terror as the Spec Ops team moved with deadly efficiency. A burst of fire silenced a screaming advisor. Another clutched his throat, blood staining the ornate carpet. In the chaos, Jiang spotted a guard reaching for an alarm bell. With a swift, precise movement, he fired, the guard collapsing before he could sound the alarm.

The mission was complete. Back at HQ, Alam paced. The silence amplified the distant city sounds. Each minute stretched. He checked the comms, willing it to ring. Waiting was torture for him. Then, a soldier burst in, breathless.

“General Alam! Mission accomplished! The Emperor is dead!”

 

“Good! Now pull back and disengage. I don’t want any confrontation with the enemy. By morning, they’ll surrender when they hear their leader is gone,” Alam ordered, relief flooding through him.

 

“Yes, General! The Spec Ops team will retreat immediately,” the soldier confirmed, eager to follow orders.

 

“Casualties?” Alam pressed, his brow furrowing. “About ten percent, General. But their sacrifice was not in vain. We’ve struck a decisive blow against the Empire of Xian,” the soldier replied, pride creeping into his voice.

 

Alam nodded grimly. The night was far from over. He turned to Fang. “Order the workers and engineers to join our defense perimeter. It’s all or nothing now.”

 

“Understood, General. I’ll give the order immediately. We must prepare for a potential counterattack,” Fang replied, her determination matching his own.

 

Alam turned on his recorder, clearing his throat. “Alright my soul.. My comrade. This is will our finest hours.. I just beg you to stay wake.. Stay focus like this is our last time we will meet again.. Victory is imminent.. Make sure we will see the sunrise together”

His words resonated through the ranks, igniting a fire in the hearts of his soldiers. A roar of defiance erupted from the Wanderer Army, echoing into the night. But beneath the bravado, a tense silence settled.

 

The long hours of waiting stretched on, the darkness punctuated only by the crackling of campfires. they all tired and the silentness is make them sleepy despite their boots are filled by mud and water Then, just before dawn, the sounds of marching feet grew louder, signaling the enemy’s approach.

 

Alam’s heart raced. “They’re making a last charge! Everyone, get inside the buildings! Our task is to survive. Luckily, we blocked the river again before crossing into Xian. Just wait for the dam to rise again; a second flood is our ace in the hole!”

 

The Wanderer Army scrambled for cover, taking defensive positions as the enemy advanced. The battle was far from over, but the second flood was already underway,

 

As the enemy advanced, the floodwaters began to rise, a watery wall against the Empire’s last gasp.

“This is divine intervention!” Alam exclaimed, watching the enemy ranks falter. The floodwaters churned, trapping men, clogging artillery, and jamming weapons with thick mud. Horses and camels floundered, their footing lost in the rising muck, trapping the enemy and securing the victory for the Wanderers.

 

“Looks like the Wei River decided to join the party,” one officer chuckled, a wide grin spreading across his face. "Guess they didn't factor in the tides of war and the actual tides."

The last pockets of resistance crumbled under the weight of the flood and the Wanderer counter-push. The city was secured. A week later, Alam surveyed the scene. The palace throne was a smoldering ruin—a symbolic bonfire of victory. The citizens, for the most part, were cautiously accepting of their new rulers.

“Fang, what’s the status of the remaining enemy forces?” he inquired.

 

“There are still small pockets of resistance, but they’re scattered and weak. Most have been eliminated or fled. Our control over Xian is solid,” she replied, pausing briefly. “Our troops are diligently mopping up any stragglers.”

 

“Good. We need to maintain our supply lines and hold this city. The conquest of Xian is crucial for cementing our reputation across China,” Alam asserted, determination shining in his eyes.

 

“Indeed, capturing the capital is a pivotal step in our campaign. It will serve as a stronghold for further advances,” Fang agreed.

 

“By the way, have we secured the terracotta warriors?” Alam asked, curiosity piqued.

 

“Yes, they’re under our control. The terracotta warriors are a symbol of ancient power. Their capture bolsters our prestige,” Fang confirmed.

 

“Excellent. Show me the statues,” Alam said, eager to witness their legendary presence.

 

 

 

As Alam approached the site of the terracotta warriors, he was struck by their majesty. The figures stood as silent sentinels, embodying the might of the ancient Empire. He felt a surge of pride wash over him.

 

In that moment, Alam understood the significance of their capture: the past and present collided, signaling the rise of a new power in China. Victory was not just close; it was inevitable.

Alam contacted Zao to assess the local situation in their newly acquired territory. “So, what’s the behavior of our new subjects?” he asked.

 

Zao replied, “The people of Xian are wary but mostly accepting of us as their new overlords. There haven’t been any overt challenges to our authority, though some pockets of resistance remain. Overall, the populace seems relieved that the fighting is over and are willing to comply, hoping for fair treatment.”

 

“Good. Keep up the good work,” Alam responded, satisfied.

 

He then reached out to Fang. “What’s the status of our supply lines? Any threats from local enemies?”

 

“Our supply lines are secure,” Fang reported. “We’ve taken control of vital infrastructure, and the remaining enemy forces are too isolated to pose a significant threat. Everything is running smoothly.”

 

“Excellent. We need to deal with those pesky remnants of the enemy,” Alam said. “I want to form a new unit focused on rooting out insurgents blending into the population.”

 

“I can start recruitment immediately,” Fang replied. “We’ll use infiltration tactics to identify and eliminate any threats.”

 

“Before we act, let’s offer them one last chance to surrender,” Alam suggested.

 

“Agreed. The threat of annihilation might convince them to submit,” Fang confirmed.

 

“Keep me informed on every progress,” Alam instructed before heading to the nearby village to visit Luo, the middle-aged tea seller who had welcomed him during his first day in Xian. The village was peaceful, a stark contrast to the chaos in the city, reflecting the newfound control the Wanderer Army had established.

Alam strolled through the village center, expecting to find bustling life but instead encountered an eerie silence. Not a soul stirred in the peaceful streets. The gentle breeze rustled the leaves, and birds chirped, but the absence of human activity left him unsettled.

 

“Hmm... Luo?” he called, hoping to draw out the middle-aged tea seller he had met before.

 

He knocked on her door, hand hovering near the pistol tucked at his back, just in case. Silence enveloped him, but then he heard muffled sounds from within. His heart raced as he waited, senses on high alert.

 

Finally, the door creaked open, revealing Luo, her expression a mix of surprise and suspicion. Alam flashed a quick smile. “Oh, hey again! Good to see you.”

 

Her eyes softened momentarily, but the wariness returned as she cautiously studied him. “What do you want?” she asked, guarding her emotions.

 

“Can we have some tea again?” Alam asked, hoping to ease the tension.

 

Luo hesitated but nodded, her demeanor relaxing slightly. “Sure, come in.”

 

As they settled, Alam asked, “So, have you heard the latest news?”

 

She blinked and nodded, a faint smile creeping onto her lips. “Yes, I’ve been keeping up with things. The Wanderer Army is in control now.”

 

“You’re quieter than before. Do you... fear me?” he probed, sensing her caution.

 

Luo shook her head, yet her smile was faint. “Not fear. Just... cautious.”

 

“Do you have children?” Alam inquired, trying to bridge the gap.

 

Her gaze softened, but shadows crossed her face. “I had a son... he died in the fighting.”

 

“I’m sorry. What about your husband?” Alam pressed gently.

 

“Gone,” she whispered, grief heavy in her tone.

 

“Now you live alone?” Alam asked, feeling the weight of her loss.

 

“Yes... alone,” she confirmed, her voice barely above a whisper.

 

He took a sip of tea, the warmth contrasting with the chill of their conversation. “The village feels quieter lately. Are people working in Xiangyang and Xian after the battle?”

 

“Reconstruction has begun,” she replied, her tone melancholic. “They’re working hard to restore what was lost.”

 

Alam smirked, “Yeah, the man who caused this must be... naughty.”

 

Luo let out a small laugh, her eyes lighting up with mischief. The tension between them cracked, and they enjoyed a brief moment of levity before she looked pensive.

 

“Do you plan to spend the rest of your life here?” he asked, curious.

 

She pondered, sipping her tea. “Honestly, I don’t know. I’ve learned to take life one day at a time. My son and husband... life is unpredictable.”

 

“Yes, it is,” Alam agreed, reflecting on the chaos surrounding them.

 

Luo sighed, her expression clouding with sorrow as memories of her son and husband washed over her. She blinked rapidly, fighting back the grief that threatened to resurface.

 

“Can I ask you a heavy question?” Alam ventured, his voice cautious.

 

Luo nodded, her demeanor shifting to one of solemnity.she know alam is bit bold, She set her cup down, a small smile flickering across her face, encouraging him to proceed.

 

“Are you sure?” he pressed, gauging her readiness.

 

“Absolutely,” she said, leaning back in her chair with a hint of apprehension.

 

“Alright... which was sadder? The loss of your husband or your son?” Alam asked, the gravity of his question hanging in the air.

 

Luo’s expression darkened, and a grimace crossed her face as the question struck deep. Tears threatened to spill, but she fought them back. “I can’t really compare... both were devastating. But if I had to choose, I’d say losing my son was the worst. He was my only child. Watching him die in battle, helpless to save him... that’s a gut-wrenching feeling I’ll never forget.”

 

“I see,” Alam replied, his heart heavy with empathy. He rubbed her hand, seeking to offer comfort.

 

Luo closed her eyes, breathing deeply at the touch. The silence stretched between them, a moment of shared sorrow. Finally, she opened her eyes to meet his gaze.

 

“I don’t know if I’ll ever have children,” Alam admitted, “but I treat my soldiers like family. Losing good men—it's a pain I know all too well.”

Luo nodded softly, her eyes warming. She understood his attachment, sensing the grief he carried. In that quiet connection, a shared understanding passed between them, a moment of respite from the harsh realities of war. Alam sighed, the moment fading as the weight of his responsibilities returned. He looked out at the ruined city, his mind already turning to the tasks ahead.

Later, back at the Wanderer’s new base in Xian, the True Horde Confederation flag rose over the city, a symbol of their victory.

The next day, the war council convened. Alam didn't waste time on pleasantries. “Thanks for being on time, everyone.” He gestured to a large screen displaying a graph. “We planned a slow takeover of China, but after the Xian campaign…” He shrugged, a small smile playing on his lips. “Let’s just say we’re a little ahead of schedule.” The graph showed a dramatic spike in the True Horde's treasury after the capture of Xian. It had previously flatlined. Now it was reaching the top of the scale

Another screen displayed a list of weapons, tools, and other future expenditure for the True Horde.

Murmurs of approval swept through the room as Alam continued, “We need to isolate the remaining factions, cut off their supply lines, and watch them squirm. Blockade, blockade, blockade!”

He paused for dramatic effect. “We’ve got a foothold at a main city port and allies in Hong Kong, but it’s not enough to form a proper blockade. From our new base in Xian, I’ll send generals Zhang and Jax to deal with Liaoning. Once we have that secured, Shanxi and Hebei will be cut off. It’s like a game of chess, only with way more swords and less thinking.”

“Brilliant plan, Chief!” one general chimed in, nodding vigorously.

“If we pull this off, Beijing will be next!” Alam declared, his eyes gleaming with ambition. “Any questions?”

Silence reigned as the generals exchanged glances, nodding their heads in agreement. The plan was solid, and they were all in.

“Alright then,” Alam said, his tone shifting to one of mischief, “if there are no further questions, let’s have a feast! I mean, what’s a successful campaign without a little celebration?”

Laughter erupted around the table, and the atmosphere turned jovial. A massive feast was prepared, and the generals dug in, sharing stories of past glories and future conquests.

 

Chapter 39 River way Eastern Warlord

 

Alam now resided in the palace of Xian, and he learned that the previous emperor had a staggering 100 concubines. After conquering the place, it was something he could rightfully claim, but honestly, Alam felt he didn’t have the energy for 100 women. So, he decided to skip the local tradition.

 

Meanwhile, he started changing up his usual look. His old leather jacket was replaced by a flowing robe of yellow silk, embroidered with intricate gold dragons. He wasn’t going to lie—just a 2 year ago, he and his people were on the brink of starvation during the winter war. Now, he had conquered one of the richest cities in the region, and his ego was definitely floating a bit.

 

Alam flicked on the intercom, summoning his Tibetan strategist, Light. “Hey, let’s talk about the aftermath of our brilliant victory.”

 

“Ah, yes! A stunning triumph indeed!” Light replied, his tone dripping with enthusiasm. “This will set a precedent for your benevolent rule. If you keep up the image of a liberator, the nearby nations will be lining up to submit. Just remember to treat them fairly. Prove you’re a merciful ruler, and they’ll flock to you!”

 

“Shhh,” Alam interjected, waving his hand dismissively. “I know the war isn’t over. We originally planned a slow, methodical takeover, but thanks to my lightning campaign, we’re holding central China faster than a kid with candy. The new plan? Focus on conquering the seashore. We need to isolate those pesky factions.”

 

“Brilliant!” Light exclaimed. “Seashores mean supply lines and naval attacks. If we cut off their outside support, they’ll be like fish out of water—literally!”

 

“Got any more spicy plans up your sleeve?” Alam smirked.

 

“Destroy the factions? Well…” Light grinned, clearly relishing the conversation. “If you want to crush their spirit, you need to do it quickly and decisively. Shock and awe, my friend! The fear alone could make them surrender.”

 

“Wait, what do you mean by ‘terror’?” Alam raised an eyebrow. “You know most of them are stubborn, right? I’d probably have to off a lot of soldiers first before—”

 

“Oh, dear,” Light interrupted, smirking. “Terror is a strategy, my friend. It’s about creating fear. Even the bravest soldiers will lose their nerve when they see their comrades fall in horrific ways. You want the enemy to doubt your mercy.”

 

“Sounds a bit… extreme,” Alam said, scratching his head.

 

“Welcome to war! Every conflict has its share of ‘war crimes,’ if you want to call it that,” Light chuckled. “Want to hear the tactic?”

 

“Yeah, lay it on me,” Alam said, intrigued.

 

“First, target someone beloved by the troops,” Light explained, his grin widening. “Not necessarily a leader, but someone who’s close to them. Create a situation that makes those soldiers fear for their loved ones’ safety. It’s pretty self-explanatory.”

 

“Oh, we’ve done some spec ops and targeted assassinations at the Siege of Xian. Propaganda and sabotage are our bread and butter,” Alam admitted.

 

“Good to hear! But there’s one more method—though it’s a bit more extreme,” Light said, leaning in closer.

 

“Okay, I’m listening,” Alam replied, intrigued.

 

“It’s about fear,” Light said, his tone shifting. “In a campaign like this, there are three levels of fear. The first is the fear of losing a battle. The second? Losing comrades in a conventional way.”

 

“Got it,” Alam nodded, already sensing where this was going.

 

“Then comes the third level—fear of losing everything,” Light said, a mischievous glint in his eye.

 

“What do you mean by losing everything?” Alam asked, his curiosity piqued.

 

“When the enemy won’t surrender or negotiate, you need to apply that third level of fear. Make them believe that if they can’t beat you, they’ll lose everything—their nation, their lives, everything!” Light smirked. “You have to shatter their spirit.”

 

“Like, classic threats? ‘Surrender or I’ll kill your family and your pet?’” Alam pause considering. “Though, honestly, threatening the hamster is probably more effective these days. Everyone loves hamsters.”

 

Light leaned back, a sly grin on his face. “That’s a type of fear, but it’s pretty ordinary compared to what I’m talking about. Sure, it’s part of the third level, but it can’t be used in open combat.”

 

Alam raised an eyebrow. “Okay, then what’s your genius plan?”

 

Light chuckled mischievously. “You want to know? Alright, here it goes. War is all about breaking the enemy’s morale, right? So how about we aim right at their leader? Make him sweat, show him we won’t hesitate to take him out along with his buddies.”

 

“That sounds risky,” Alam said. “What if he’s charismatic? That might just fuel their resistance.”

 

“Exactly! The more he resists, the more we need to show him what happens when you say no,” Light shot back, grinning devilishly. “It’s just another way to instill fear.”

 

“Okay, I get it. But do you have any other ideas?” Alam pressed.

 

Light’s eyes sparkled with mischief. “We need to spread rumors that our army is ruthless—surrendering won’t save anyone. The best way to do that? Show the consequences directly.”

 

“Won’t that just make them fight harder?” Alam questioned.

 

“Nope!” Light grinned cruelly. “It’ll have the opposite effect. They’ll lose their spirit before the first shot is fired. Fear will seep into their bones, and some might even run away, despite being capable soldiers. After that, they won’t dare resist.”

 

“Interesting. I’ve never thought of it that way,” Alam admitted.

 

Light smirked proudly. “I’m always one step ahead. While others underestimate me, I know my strengths—both in combat and psychological warfare. I can crush their bodies and their spirits.”

 

“Sure, but if I want to unite my territory into a confederation, will fear really keep them in line?” Alam asked.

 

“That’s the catch,” Light replied. “If you want genuine trust, fear alone won’t cut it. It’s useful for keeping some individuals in check, but if you overdo it, it’ll backfire. Use it selectively.”

 

“Or I could create a new branch of the army—let’s call them the ‘Black Goats,’” Alam said with a smirk. “They can do my dirty work, and then I’ll integrate them into the confederation.”

 

“Now we’re talking!” Light exclaimed. “Use ruthless tactics to break resistance, then gradually integrate them. That way, you won’t come off as a tyrant. They’ll see you as a great leader promoting peace.”

 

“Yeah, but I’ll still need to keep them in line,” Alam said.

 

“Exactly. That’s where your ‘Black Goats’ come in,” Light chuckled. “Just be careful—they might develop their own identity and cause trouble if you don’t manage them right.”

 

“Sounds like a potential headache,” Alam said, rubbing his temples.

 

“Oh, trust me, I’ve been there,” Light said with a smirk. “But I won’t spill the details. You’ll figure it out. If it turns into a mess, well, you’ll know what to do.”

 

“Great, thanks for the vote of confidence,” Alam shot back, rolling his eyes. “So, what’s your master plan for dealing with it?”

 

Light leaned in, an enigmatic smile on his lips. “Well, it’s an art form—manipulation, really. You should have it all figured out before you bring the ‘Black Goats’ into the fold.”

 

“Let me guess,” Alam said, “once their job is done, I’ll just disown them?”

 

Light grinned wickedly. “That’s one way! Or you could use them to absorb more factions. Their notorious reputation could instill fear in your enemies or even force them to ally with you just to deal with the ‘Black Goats.’”

 

“Interesting,” Alam mused. “I’ll consider it for the greater good.”

 

Light leaned back, a smirk playing on his lips. “Good. But remember, don’t underestimate the situation. We’re talking about using a ruthless organization as a tool here. You might control them at first, but their own will can creep up later. There’s no guarantee they’ll always bow to your authority.”

 

“Great,” Alam replied, rolling his eyes. “Thanks for the pep talk. Now, let’s get down to business.” A few hours after their feast, Alam gathered everyone for the next phase of their campaign.

 

“Alright, here’s the plan. From Xi'an, we’re heading south to capture Luoyang, Zhengzhou, Jinan, Qingdao, and finally Weihai,” he announced, his voice steady and commanding.

 

“Solid plan,” Zao chimed in. “We’ll crush any local resistance and secure our hold on the south.”

 

“Speaking of resistance,” Alam said, “do we have intel on what we’re up against?”

 

“Absolutely,” Fang replied. “Our scouts have mapped out the local factions and potential obstacles. Expect a mix of minor alliances and some stubborn locals. We need to ensure a steady supply line from Xi'an to Weihai.”

 

“Right. And how long did it take Genghis Khan to conquer the Jin Empire?” Alam asked, curious about historical precedents.

 

“About 18 years,” Fang answered. “Persistence and strategy were key for him.”

 

“And the Japanese in Manchuria during WWII?” Alam pressed.

 

“Six years of relentless campaigns before they really dug in,” Fang said. “They were strategic, and that’s what made them successful.”

 

“Good lessons there. Persistence and strategy. Got it.” Alam turned to Zao and Yang. “You two have been instrumental in the Xian campaign. Can you lead the army to Weihai?”

 

“Absolutely,” Zao replied. “We’ll tackle whatever comes our way—hills, forests, enemies, you name it.”

 

“It’ll be tough, but we’re ready,” Yang added, determination in his voice.

 

“Great. Fang, you'll oversee their progress and keep me posted,” Alam commanded.

 

“On it. I’ll ensure everything runs smoothly,” Fang said, nodding.

 

“Any questions?” Alam scanned the room, but his generals were all focused, ready to execute the plan.

 

“Good luck, everyone,” he said, saluting. The officers returned the gesture, their faces filled with determination. With solid intel backing them and a clear plan in place, they were ready to conquer the southern region of China, one city at a time.

 

Later that afternoon, Alam made his way back to the quaint village. but this time he decide to wear his old leather jacket, a peaceful landscape was a comforting contrast to the boring chaos of his military life. A cluster of modest houses surrounded a central plaza, framed by rolling hills and lush forests. As he approached, the familiar sight of Luo's small home brought a smile to his face.

 

Luo stood at her door, her face lighting up when she saw him. “Alam! You’re back!” she exclaimed, a warm welcome in her voice.

 

“Hey, I know I’m a bit needy, but can you cook me dinner?” he asked, half-joking, half-serious.

 

“Of course! It’ll be simple, but delicious,” she replied, her eyes sparkling with eagerness. She led him into her cozy kitchen, filled with the aromas of spices and fresh ingredients.

 

As she began to prepare the meal, Alam watched her movements with appreciation. “What are you making?” he asked, his stomach rumbling in anticipation.

 

“Pot stickers,” she said, glancing back at him with a smile. “They’re a family recipe—seasoned meat and vegetables wrapped in a thin dough.”

 

“Sounds amazing. What makes them different from bakpao?” Alam asked, taking a seat at her small table.

 

Luo smiled, her enthusiasm infectious. “Well, bakpao are fluffier and sweeter. These are savory, with a crispy bottom from the frying pan. You’ll love them!”

 

Alam took a bite, savoring the flavors. “Wow, this is really good!”

 

“Glad you like it!” she beamed, her face lighting up with pride as she watched him enjoy her cooking. The kitchen filled with the sound of sizzling, and the aroma wrapped around them like a warm blanket.

 

“I need to tell you something,” Alam said, his tone turning serious. “My time in Xian is almost over. I’m heading east soon.”

 

Luo’s smile faded slightly, replaced with a look of understanding. “I know you have your duties,” she said softly. “I’ll miss you.”

 

“Funny coincidence, though,” Alam continued, trying to lighten the mood. “I dammed a river named Weihai, and now my next target is the port city of Weihai.”

 

Luo giggled, shaking her head at the irony. “Life has a strange sense of humor, doesn’t it?”

 

“Speaking of humor,” Alam said, “do you still have that huge stock of tea?”

 

“Oh yes! I kept plenty for when you came back,” she replied, her face lighting up again. “I knew you’d want some!”

 

“Great! But I can’t make promises, you know. I might just buy half of it,” he said, trying to sound casual.

 

Luo's smile softened. “That’s fine. It shows you care about us, even while you’re off conquering.”

 

Alam gazed out the window, watching the sun dip behind the hills. “Sometimes I wish for a place like this when I grow old. Just quiet and peaceful.”

 

Luo nodded, understanding the weight of his words. She could see the toll the wars had taken on him. “This village has its charm. It’s nice to escape the chaos, even if just for a moment.”

 

Alam stretched, the tension in his shoulders easing slightly. “I hope you live long and healthy, Luo. I really should be going now.”

 

“Take care, Alam,” she said, her voice tinged with sadness.

 

“Goodbye, Luo.” He stepped outside, and as he walked away, he glanced back one last time. Her smile was bright, but her eyes shimmered with a mix of hope and melancholy.

 

As Alam disappeared down the path, Luo stood in her doorway, feeling a bittersweet pang in her heart. She cherished the moments they shared, even as the reality of his departure sank in. The village remained tranquil, but the weight of Alam’s absence loomed large in the quiet air, leaving her to ponder the future.

Alam returned to the command center, the quiet village now a distant memory. The maps spread across the table called to him, the next phase of the campaign already taking shape in his mind. He decided to join the vanguard once more.

The Wanderer's vanguard force moves forward confidently across the rugged and scenic terrain, marching northward towards the Tainyuang city. Alam leads the way, his eyes constantly scanning the surroundings for any potential threats or dangerous situations. The team traverses through the scenic valleys and mountains, encountering the spectacular landscape of the Qinling Mountains. As the team ventures further north and approaches the Taiyuan basin, the landscape becomes flatter and the city of Taiyuan comes into sight, it's sprawling urban skyline rising above the surrounding plains...

then  one by one. from street to street, from village to village, from city to city. from warlord to warlord, alam conquer the old capital of beijing. the city was its former glory though. the industry, their tech is busted, and less populated compared with xian, the city will only become a merely symbolic victory, nevertheles. alam then rank up more new general. such yang for conquest of korea, everything is good.

As the generals feasted, a messenger arrived, his face grim. He handed Alam a sealed report. Alam broke the seal and read the contents, his brow furrowing. “It seems our victory here has not gone unnoticed,” he said, his voice low. “The Blood khaganate and red nation is on the move. They’re expanding their influence, and reports suggest they’ve developed a new type of heavy tank.”