Venetian Red, Volume 4

 

Chapter 40 Buffalo

 

The victory at Xian and Beijing echoed across the land, but Alam knew it was only one battle in a much larger war. As his forces consolidated their hold on the city, reports continued to trickle in about the Red Nation's growing power. Their expansion into Asia, the whispers of a new super weapon—it was clear they were a force to be reckoned with. This wasn't just a regional conflict anymore; the tremors of a larger global struggle were beginning to be felt.

 the world was still super unstable, like one wrong move and boom.

One day, on a supply run, Alam went back to Carpathia to see Carmelita the black veil woman. He then showed up holding food. “Hey, you gotta try this Xian food. It’s nyumy!”

Carmelita looked up, a little surprised. She glanced at the food. “Xian food? Never had it.”

“Good,” Alam said, plopping down in front of her. “Eat it. Hehe.”

She lift up her mask took a small bite, her eyes widening. “Hmm, this is… actually nyumy. You weren’t kidding.”

“Yep,” Alam grinned. “Cute, right?”

Carmelita rolled her eyes, but a small smile played on her lips. “Cute? That’s the best you could do?”

Alam shifted his chair and leaned on her shoulder.

She stiffened a bit, surprised and a little annoyed, but didn’t push him away. “You’re getting way too comfortable.”

“You don’t mind, do you?” Alam asked.

“No, I don’t mind,” she mumbled, sounding a little irritated, but she didn’t move.

“Good,” Alam said.

She huffed again, trying to hide that she was secretly enjoying it. After a pause, Alam asked, “Tell me… do you think what we’re doing is actually stopping the war? Or are we just making things worse?”

Carmelita’s expression turned serious. She looked off in the distance, thinking. “I wish I knew. Preventing war is complicated. Sometimes we help. Other times… it feels like we’re just adding fuel to the fire.”

“Humans,” Alam sighed.

Carmelita nodded. “Yeah, humans. Always fighting. It’s like we never learn. We never figure out how to just live in peace.”

“Yep,  take that human!,” Alam agreed, then suddenly poked her nose.

“Hey!” Carmelita snapped, narrowing her eyes. “What was that for? I’m not some toy!”

“Sorry,” Alam said. “You seem stressed.”

“Of course I’m stressed,” she said. “Have you looked at the world lately? It’s a mess. Wars and chaos everywhere.”

“So,” Alam said, “even someone as elite as you gets stressed?”

Carmelita scoffed. “Of course I do. I’m not a robot. I’m good at what I do, but I’m still human.”

“Oh, right.” Alam sat up and opened another box of food, showing her dumplings and a kind of meat sandwich. “It’s called Roujiamo.”

Carmelita looked at the food, curious. “Roujiamo? Never seen that before. Looks… interesting.”

“Yep,” Alam said. “Don’t women like to eat when they’re in a bad mood?”

Carmelita huffed, a mix of annoyance and amusement in her eyes. “You can’t just stereotype all women. But yeah, some do.”

“Good,” Alam said. “Eat up. Get fat.”

Carmelita rolled her eyes. “I’m not going to ‘get fat’ from one meal. I have self-control. And watch your tone, or I’ll feed this to the dogs.”

“No, please,” Alam pleaded. “I came all the way from China to bring this to you, not some random dogs.”

Carmelita huffed, a hint of a smile playing on her lips. “Fine. I won’t feed it to the dogs. Only because you brought it for me.” Alam leaned back in his chair, watching her.

She picked up a Roujiamo and took a bite, her expression softening. “Mmm… This is delicious. I can see why you were boasting.”

“Halal boasting,” Alam corrected with a grin.

Carmelita nodded, taking another bite. “For once, I’ll allow it. This is good enough to be arrogant about.”

“So, usually I’m not allowed to boast?” Alam asked, raising an eyebrow.

She huffed a small laugh. “Generally speaking, no. But this is an exception. Don’t get used to it.”

“What’s the difference between being confident and just showing off?” Alam wondered.

Carmelita considered this, her brow furrowing slightly. “Confidence is believing in your abilities. Showing off, or bragging, is trying to make yourself look better than others. It’s about intent. Confidence comes from within, bragging is for external validation.”

“Intent… how do I read other people’s intentions?”

She smirked. “You’re starting to sound like a spy. But… look for clues. Body language, tone, eye contact, their word choices.”

“I’ll keep that in mind. I meet a lot of weirdos on my adventures.”

Carmelita nodded. “Just remember to stay vigilant.” She studied him for a moment. “You know, for someone who’s traveled the world, you’re surprisingly… naive.”

Alam grinned. “Heheh. Then I’m successfully… um… hiding my facade?”

She rolled her eyes, a smirk tugging at her lips. “Yes, yes. You’re very good at masking your true nature. But I’ve noticed a few things.”

“Oho? Like what?”

Carmelita’s smirk widened. “Well, for starters, you’re far more observant than you let on. You act carefree, but there’s more going on beneath the surface. You’re not as transparent as you want people to believe.”

“Nyoohhh… I’m an innocent boy,” Alam said, feigning innocence.

She rolled her eyes again. “Oh, please. No one who’s seen as much as you has can claim to be innocent.”

Alam met her gaze” yes. im innocent if facing about future.. no matter how many prediction i make about what come next.. gott always surprise me”

 

Carmelita nodded, a hint of respect in her eyes. “That’s a good mindset to have. The world is full of surprises. Just when you think you have it figured out…”

Carmelita’s words hung in the air, a stark contrast to the vastness of the task ahead. While Alam shared a brief respite with Carmelita, the war machine continued to grind on. Thousands of miles to the east,

 

To dodge the Blue Nation pirates, Zion decided to relocate the entire factory from the Bering Strait to Asia. With that move, the Red Nation officially expanded its territory overseas. Meanwhile, the New World Council (NWC) was too busy squabbling among themselves. It was clear the Red Nation was bending the rules, but they shot back with their classic line: “The Blood Khaganate has the right to defend themselves, and we’re just maintaining peace.” Classic political mumbo jumbo for the media – the kind that made even seasoned diplomats roll their eyes

 

The portrayal of the NWC suggests a level of incompetence reminiscent of its predecessor, the United Nations. The White Nation, with its advanced technology, appears to be the only stabilizing force keeping the major nations together. However, despite the absence of direct clashes among these nations, the question remains: how long can this fragile peace last?

 

The Blood Khaganate resorted to mass recruitment. Among these new recruits were Hazel, who later will rise to become a skilled tank commander, and Panji, who carved a path as a swift infantry leader. The Red Nation brought in a new super weapon called the Buffalo tank—a 150-ton beast with twin cannons. It was slow but deadly, aiming to march to Europe and crush anything in its path, including the True Horde.

 

Hazel was born female, but in her society, men were favored. To fit in and be treated equally, she acted like a man. Even before World War III, the region faced gender inequality. Young girls were often seen as burdens, destined to be sold off, while boys were groomed to inherit family fortunes. In this post-apocalyptic world, such practices still ran rampant, especially with the introduction of "wind-up girls." This explained why more egalitarian societies like the Blood Khaganate or True Horde were more powerful compared to local warlords. Many people view these groups as a ticket to a more liberated society, especially in contrast to the oppressive norms they have experienced.

 

and To blend in, Hazel wore a special bodysuit to hide her curves and bribed her way through the corrupt Khaganate border. As a man, she joined the war against the True Horde. and she even not change her name. “Hazel it is” the border guard give her the id after receive amount of money behind her document

 

In June 2404, the air in Manchuria was thick with anticipation, the scent of gasoline mingling with the vibrant greens of the landscape. Lush vegetation and blooming flowers danced in the gentle breeze, starkly contrasting the dark, blackened earth of the Blood Khaganate workshop, which looked like a charcoal stain on an artist's canvas.

 

The garage buzzed with the clattering of machinery, but the real spectacle was a new arrival from the Red Nation—a monstrous war machine of a tank. Its twin cannons jutted skyward like petrified tree trunks. A plume of smoke curled lazily from its hatch, momentarily obscuring the figure that clambered out.

 

As the smoke cleared, a shock of fiery orange hair burst forth, topped with a pair of goggles that seemed to wink mischievously in the fading sunlight.

 

“Oh, so you’re the new shield meat?” Yu giggled, her laughter brightening the grim atmosphere as she leaned against the tank.

 

From behind the colossal machine, a figure emerged, looking like he had stepped straight out of a steampunk fantasy. A jaunty top hat adorned with brass gears perched atop his head, casting playful shadows across his face. He adjusted the scabbard strapped to his hip with a flourish, revealing a confident grin.

 

“Patrick, at your service! Welcome to the team!” he declared, tipping his hat with a flamboyant gesture.

 

“Hello, Patrick. Hmm… do we know each other?” Hazel asked, brow furrowing in curiosity.

 

“Nope! You’re a new member. I’m the captain of this beauty, the tank ‘Buffalo’. Our task is simple: destroy the True Horde and march to Europe!” Patrick announced, his enthusiasm palpable.

 

“Okay…” Hazel replied, still processing the information. “Just keep in mind, ‘Buffalo’ is a heavy tank. Don’t expect it to win any races! But I assure you, with this tank, we can crush everything in our path—strong defenses, fierce offensives, you name it. This tank is our ticket to victory!” Patrick’s eyes sparkled with excitement.

 

The tank’s engine rumbled to life, echoing through the garage like a beast awakening from slumber. As it began to move, the heavy treads clanked against the concrete, sending vibrations through the ground.

 

“Hmm…” Hazel mused, starting to follow the tank as it lumbered out onto the street.

 

“How long until we reach Europe?” Hazel asked, glancing at Patrick, who walked beside him.

 

“I’m not certain. Maybe a month or two,” he said, looking ahead. “We’ll move eastward as fast as we can to crush the True Horde before they reach the West. Once we finish the job, we can march to Europe with all our might.”

 

“Two months? Are you sure? At this rate, maybe a year!” Hazel joked, crossing her arms and raising an eyebrow.

 

“I assure you, our tank is the most advanced! It can plow through mud, snow, and even mountains. It won’t slow us down. The True Horde is a major threat in this region, so we need to reach the front lines as quickly as possible. Even the worst terrain can’t slow down ‘Buffalo’,” Patrick replied confidently.

 

“Okay…” Hazel nodded.

 

“If we can defeat the True Horde in Central Asia, they’ll retreat. But if we can’t, they’ll storm through Europe and beyond. They aim to unite the world under their control and show no mercy to anyone except their own people. That’s why we must stop them now,” Patrick warned, his expression grave.

 

“Hmmm… so we’re actually…” Hazel began.

 

“Yes! We’re fighting for the peace and freedom of everyone. If the True Horde unites the world, they’ll become dictators and enslave everyone. We must stop them before it’s too late,” Patrick replied, his passion igniting a fire in Hazel.

 

“Yes, and our job is to defend it,” Hazel affirmed.

 

Patrick patted the Buffalo’s thick armor. “She can take a beating, but we’re her eyes and ears. Infantry swarms are the biggest threat.” He gestured to the surrounding landscape. “Out here, we’re exposed.” Hazel nodded, understanding the vulnerability of their position.

 

“Just remember, we’re stronger than we look. Don’t fear! With our tactics, our weapons, and the power of teamwork, we can destroy the True Horde army and march to Europe!” Patrick urged, his voice rising with enthusiasm.

 

“I’m not afraid,” Hazel replied firmly.

 

“Good! Because this war is about freedom and peace. It’s not a war for destruction like the True Horde wants. We are the force for good, and we will crush evil! Keep that in mind and fight without fear!” Patrick declared, his voice ringing with conviction.

 

“Sure,” Hazel replied,

 

“And if you have any questions, just ask! Don’t be shy about it; I’ll answer anything!” Patrick encouraged, his demeanor friendly.

 

“Nothing… I just don’t talk much,” Hazel confessed.

 

“That’s okay! Let’s head to the front line! The True Horde army is waiting!” Patrick said, a grin breaking across his face.

 

“Yes!” Hazel agreed,

 

As the tank slowly moved forward, people stopped in the street to gawk at the colossal war machine. It was indeed a monstrous sight—heavy armor and twin cannons aimed skyward, rumbling through the streets like a leviathan.

 

“With this size, it’s perfect for air strikes,” Hazel mused,

 

“This tank is the strongest and most advanced. Even an air strike can’t damage it because the thick armor is made of iron—it can withstand jet attacks and missiles. The True Horde air force won’t dare make a direct attack on ‘Buffalo.’ They might try to hit us with rocket launchers, but that’s risky as they’d need to get dangerously close,” Patrick explained, his tone filled with pride.

“What? How can a tank attack planes?” Hazel asked, incredulous.

 

“Simple! The tank has twin cannons that can tilt upwards about 75 degrees, allowing it to shoot down enemy planes flying above. With the speed of the cannon, we can take out aircraft before they can launch an attack!” Patrick responded, enthusiasm bubbling over. “And the most advanced cannons can hit targets at a distance of about 10 kilometers!”

 

“I see… do you have a reason for joining the army?” Hazel inquired, genuinely curious.

 

“We’re a group of people—most of us are veterans from Khaganate, mercenaries, or other types of veterans. We have no desire for money or glory; instead, we want a world without bloodshed. We fight for peace and freedom—that’s why we joined this army,” Patrick explained, sincerity etched in his features.

 

“I see… sounds cliché,” Hazel said, a hint of skepticism in her tone.

 

“It’s the truth. We fight for our country, for peace and freedom, for the next generation—the generation that will live without bloodshed. That’s who we fight for,” Patrick replied, his voice steady.

 

“Do you think the other side feels the same?” Hazel asked, her brow furrowing.

 

“The True Horde? They only want to rule the world. They want every nation to serve them and everyone to obey like slaves. Do you think they desire a world without bloodshed?” Patrick countered, raising an eyebrow.

 

“Hmm. Everyone is the villain in someone else’s story,” Hazel mused.

 

As they walked alongside the tank, the massive machine began its slow lumbering journey toward the front lines. Patrick stayed close to Hazel, his concern for her well-being clear.

 

“Are we in hostile territory yet?” Hazel asked, her heart racing with anticipation.

 

“Close, but not quite there. The True Horde is still in their own territory,” Patrick replied, scanning the horizon.

 

“Great. How long until we can rest?” Hazel asked, noticing the sky darkening ominously.

 

“We’ll keep moving day and night,” Patrick said, his tone serious. “We can’t afford to rest—not with the True Horde gearing up to attack. They’re just waiting for us to drop our guard.”

 

“Wait a minute… no rest at all?” Hazel protested, a frown creeping across her face.

 

“It’s harsh, but that’s the reality of battle,” Patrick said steadily. “If we rest, the True Horde will seize the chance to strike. So we must keep moving; so far, we’ve only seen their movements, but they haven’t attacked yet.”

 

Hazel stifled a yawn, fatigue creeping in. “Okay then…”

 

“Stay awake!” Patrick urged, his tone firm but playful. “We’re still far from the front line. The enemy won’t rest, and neither can we.”

 

“Can we at least rotate?” Hazel asked, hoping for some mercy.

 

“Absolutely. We need to rotate so everyone can catch some rest and regain strength. Just stay focused and don’t fall asleep,” he replied, a hint of humor lightening his words.

 

“Okay…” Hazel replied, but Patrick could see the fatigue etched on her face, her eyelids drooping heavily.

 

Suddenly, rain began to pour down, soaking them both. “Ah, rain! Good for covering our tracks,” Patrick remarked, grinning despite the downpour. “But now you’re wet and probably cold too. So try not to fall asleep… don’t fall asleep…”

 

“Yes, but do we even know where the enemy is?” Hazel asked, her voice tinged with concern.

 

“Only through our scouts. They’re waiting at the front line but won’t attack until they feel strong enough to crush us,” Patrick explained, his brow furrowing slightly.

 

“So they’re just shadowing us?” Hazel mused, glancing around as the rain continued to pour.

 

“Exactly. They’re just watching us, waiting for us to tire. The longer we can keep moving without rest, the less likely they’ll be to attack successfully,” Patrick said, his expression serious.

 

“But do you think that’s sustainable in the long run?” Hazel asked, her tone skeptical.

 

“No, it’s not sustainable,” Patrick admitted, shaking his head. “But we don’t have a choice. The True Horde doesn’t get tired. They’re just waiting for us to slow down so they can crush us. We must keep moving forward, no matter what.”

 

“Just… I see now why we’re called ‘Bastards,’” Hazel said, a wry smile breaking through her fatigue.

 

“Right you are,” Patrick chuckled, the sound warm in the chilly rain.

 

As they continued marching through the downpour, the night wore on without a break. Thunder rumbled in the distance, but the True Horde remained silent, as if they were waiting for the perfect moment to strike.

 

“How long until we reach the border?” Hazel asked as dawn began to break, her heart pounding with anticipation.

 

“The True Horde is right by that border. They’ve seen and heard us already. They haven’t attacked yet because they’re probably waiting for reinforcements,” Patrick said, glancing at the darkening sky. “It’s only a matter of time now. We have a little more time before we reach the border.”

 

“Have you fought them before?” Hazel asked, curiosity piqued.

 

“Not me, but many in my group have. They’ve seen the brutality and ruthlessness of the True Horde firsthand,” Patrick replied, his expression growing somber.

 

Hazel nodded, absorbing his words. “They’ve witnessed horrors—people being killed in front of them, heads being severed, faces melting from explosions. Some suffered from mental scars that haunt them at night. Our leader, Zion, was even kidnapped and spent years in a True Horde camp, experiencing things no one should endure,” Patrick said, his voice heavy with gravity.

 

“Really? I didn’t know that… Are you sure that story is real?” Hazel asked, her eyes widening.

 

“Absolutely. If you don’t believe me, ask the veterans of this mission. They’ll tell you about Zion’s time in that horrific camp,” Patrick urged.

 

“Hmm… I see…” Hazel yawned again, struggling to stay awake.

 

“You’re still sleepy. You need to resist. It’s not a good time to rest,” Patrick reminded her.

 

“This is the worst decision of my life,” she groaned, the weight of exhaustion pressing down on her.

 

“It’s a sacrifice we must make for the good of the mission,” Patrick replied, ever the optimist.

 

“Why do you still look so fresh? Are you on drugs or something?” Hazel teased, a hint of laughter in her voice.

 

Patrick laughed heartily. “No, that’s just my nature! I stay positive so the team can draw motivation from me. Even if I’m tired, I can’t let that show.”

 

“How can we sustain this kind of operation? At this rate, we’ll be defeated by our own bodies,” Hazel pointed out, her tone serious again.

 

“We can’t keep this up for long, but we don’t have a choice. The True Horde is just as tough as we are. They can fight without rest as long as we do. The difference is they have more numbers. That’s why we must keep moving forward,” Patrick explained, resolute.

 

“Yes…” Hazel said, feeling the pressure of their situation.

 

“Just don’t fall asleep,” Patrick urged, his voice softening. “I don’t want to lose you…”

 

“Shhhh…” Hazel murmured, feeling her eyelids grow heavy.

 

“Hmm… give me some drugs,” Hazel murmured, her voice thick with exhaustion.

 

Patrick sighed, torn between amusement and concern. “I’ve got a pill that’ll keep you awake for a whole day, but I can’t promise it won’t drive you a little crazy. It has no effect on me, but for most people, it’s like rocket fuel… and not the good kind.” He handed her the small, unassuming pill, eyeing her with a mix of skepticism and hope.

 

“Don’t worry about it, Hatman,” Hazel said, her tone light, though the fatigue lingered in her eyes.

 

“Okay.” Patrick watched her swallow the pill, a nervous knot forming in his stomach.

A few hours later, the pill began to kick in. Hazel felt the fog of fatigue lift, replaced by a sharpness that made her more alert. “Yes!” she exclaimed, her pace quickening. “I’m awake! Time to see the sights!”

And the sights were… interesting. This entire road told a silent story, a stark contrast to the official narrative. The mass recruitment had left deep scars: empty villages, mostly inhabited by older women and young mothers with tired eyes and clinging children. They even passed a young man in a rather unconvincing skirt and scarf, clearly trying to avoid conscription – a detail Hazel spotted instantly thanks to her eye implant. He looked like he’d raided his grandmother’s closet in the dark. Yet, in every village and town, the Khagan’s crimson flag flapped proudly in the wind. Free food, courtesy of the Red Nation, was being handed out, and any mention of the recent defeats was conspicuously absent. “They’re certainly putting on a brave face,” Hazel observed, a thoughtful frown creasing her brow. “But I wonder how long they can keep up the charade.”

Chapter 41 First Clash

 

Finally, they reached the border between the Red Nation and True Horde territory, passing by the ruins of old buildings. In front of the convoy was a tank equipped with a massive roller designed to trigger any mines or explosives on contact. If it hit an explosion, only the roller would take the damage. The atmosphere shifted, charged with palpable tension. In the distance, hordes of True Horde soldiers were preparing for an assault, their vehicles gathering like storm clouds on the horizon.

 

“Hmmm… we’ve arrived,” Hazel observed, her heart pounding.

 

“Yeah… it seems the time has come for us to fight,” Patrick replied, his voice steady but heavy with the weight of impending conflict. “And we had no time for rest. I doubt you can sleep now, thanks to that pill. So, stay awake!”

 

“So who’s making the first move?” Hazel asked, excitement mixing with anxiety.

 

“It looks like we’re going to attack,” Patrick said, his gaze fixed on the enemy. “I have no idea how this will go down. It’s either we’ll win gloriously or we’ll all be turned into Swiss cheese. But we must strike now; we can’t let the True Horde attack us first.”

 

“Good…” Hazel nodded, adrenaline coursing through her veins.

 

“Prepare for battle! Get ready to fight! Victory is within our grasp,” Patrick urged, his voice rising with fervor. The sounds of the True Horde grew louder, echoing ominously across the battlefield.

 

“Why hasn’t our tank shot yet?” Hazel questioned, glancing at the massive machine.

 

“If we open fire now, the gunshot will reveal our location. They’ll know we’re attacking. So we need to hold our fire until the right moment,” Patrick explained, his eyes scanning the area for any signs of movement.

 

“I see…” Hazel replied, her mind racing as she observed the terrain around them. The landscape was flat, dotted with sparse bushes and small trees, but mostly it was just a vast expanse of open ground. “It’s a bit weird, isn’t it? We can hear them, but we can’t see them,” she mused.

 

“Yeah, it seems they haven’t reached us yet, or they’ve stopped for some reason. But I don’t know why they’re holding back,” Patrick said, a hint of worry creeping into his voice.

 

Hazel checked her weapon, feeling the weight of the world on her shoulders. Suddenly, a thunderous crack echoed nearby, startling them both. She turned her head, squinting into the rain, and spotted something fast approaching.

 

“Permission to fire!” she shouted, adrenaline surging.

 

Hazel squeezed the trigger, sending bullets streaking toward the approaching riders. She hit several, and they tumbled from their bikes, but the remaining bikers swerved and began to flee. Then, as if summoned by the chaos, another wave of bikers appeared, even larger than the first.

“Here they come! They’re on a fast track to our position!” Hazel shouted, heart racing.

As the first wave started shooting back, Hazel ducked behind the tank, returning fire. The air was filled with the acrid smell of gunpowder and the frantic sounds of battle. Some bikers got too close for comfort, hurling explosives toward the tank. Hazel noticed they were clad in body armor, making them a tough target.

“No you don’t!” Hazel shouted, drawing his revolver, a larger caliber than her rifle, and firing at the nearest climber attempting to scale the tank.

The biker fell, surprised by the sudden shot, causing others to hesitate. “They’re getting too close!” he warned, his heart racing.

“Stay sharp! We need to keep them off the tank!” Patrick shouted, taking aim.

Hazel grabbed a nearby explosive and hurled it at the bikers in the middle of the road, catching them off guard. The explosion sent several tumbling, but others pressed forward, determined to reach the tank.

“They’re relentless!” Hazel exclaimed, frustration mounting.

As more bikers closed in, Hazel’s resolve hardened. “Patrick, don’t go too far! Our priority is to cover the tank! Go take out the ones around us and order the tank to fire at the road!”

“Got it!” Patrick replied, sprinting to relay the command.

Suddenly, True Horde soldiers appeared among the ruins, ambushing them, and the situation descended into total chaos.

“They’re damn near!” Hazel shot back, her voice rising in urgency. “Cover me while I reload!”

Just then, a sniper from a nearby building seized the moment, opening fire on the approaching True Horde soldiers. Bullets struck true, and several enemies fell, forcing others to retreat temporarily.

“Good shot!” Hazel cheered, relief flooding her as some of the pressure lifted.

But the True Horde was regrouping, shouting with fervor as they prepared for their next wave.

Suddenly, another wave of bikers surged forward, their speed alarming. Some attempted to climb the sides of the tank, while others threw explosives with reckless abandon.

“Are they ever going to learn?” Hazel muttered incredulously, bracing herself for impact.

The explosions echoed around them, the sound deafening and disorienting. The tank shuddered under the force, but it stood firm, its armor holding. after another gruelling fight. true horde army retreat,

Now there was a brief moment to catch their breath. The relentless rain continued to pour, but the True Horde soldiers were no longer charging headlong. They were cautious now, firing but taking their time.

Hazel looked down at her cracked helmet, then spotted a nearby corpse. With a quick decision, she snatched up a sturdier helmet and swapped it for her own, feeling a sense of renewed confidence as she put it on. The new helmet fit perfectly, its steel frame a reassuring weight.

“Hey, check it out! I look like a proper soldier now,” she joked, glancing at Patrick.

Patrick grinned, though his eyes were still filled with concern. “You look good! Just remember, a helmet won’t save you if you fall asleep on the job.”

Hazel chuckled, but then turned serious again, observing their surroundings. Patrick was still near her, ensuring she wouldn’t drift off. It was clear he cared about her well-being, and that made her feel a little better amidst the chaos.

 

Patrick surveyed the battlefield, his eyes narrowing as he analyzed the movements of the True Horde. “Their strategy is quite predictable,” he began, his voice steady and confident. “They always launch attacks at high speed, often from unexpected directions. But most of the time? They charge in a single direction. That gives us a chance—we can predict where they’re going and how fast they’ll come at us. It makes planning our tactics a whole lot easier.”

Hazel, her brow furrowed in concentration, leaned against the cold, metallic surface of the tank. “Hnn. Perhaps their general isn’t around,” she suggested, a note of hope edging into her voice.

“Exactly! That’s our biggest advantage,” Patrick said, a grin spreading across his face. “We took out their general. Without a leader, they’re bound to be confused. If we can capitalize on that, we can send them into chaos. Just imagine—without their big boss barking orders, they’ll be like headless chickens running around!”

Hazel’s eyes widened. “So, we’ve already killed their leaders?”

“Yep! We did! Now they don’t have a general leading them. Each regiment is stuck with a small-time leader, which means utter chaos in their ranks. If we play our cards right, we can finish them off much easier than before!” Patrick leaned back slightly, a smirk playing on his lips as he reveled in the advantage they had.

“I see…” Hazel nodded, her mind whirring as she processed the information.

“But we still have to keep our wits about us,” Patrick warned, his expression sobering. “Just because we’ve taken out their leader doesn’t mean they’re out of the fight. There’s always someone with ambition ready to claim the top spot, and those kinds of folks? They won’t hesitate to do whatever it takes to get what they want. This is war, after all. We can’t let our guard down. One small mistake can lead to big consequences, and that goes for them too.”

As Patrick spoke, he noticed Hazel’s eyelids growing heavy. A yawn escaped her lips, and before he knew it, she was leaning against the tank, drifting into a nap. He watched, amused, as she fell asleep almost instantly, the tension of the battle momentarily forgotten. The tank’s warm metal provided a comforting support, and he couldn’t help but chuckle quietly at how quickly she had succumbed to sleep.

“What time is it?” Hazel mumbled as she stirred, blinking sleep from her eyes.

“Oh, it’s been about thirty minutes,” Patrick replied, a grin on his face. “You’ve been out for almost twenty-five of those. You really sleep like a log! I almost thought you didn’t have any nightmares while you were at it,” he teased, a hint of admiration in his tone.

“Yeah, no,” she replied, rubbing her eyes as if to wipe away the remnants of sleep.

At that moment, Alam climbed atop the tank, surveying the surroundings like a lookout.

Patrick stretched, feeling the weight of exhaustion settle into his bones. “Hmm… now I need to rest too,” he said, lying down on the ground near the tank. He propped his head on one hand, glancing over at Hazel as she began to munch on her Meal Ready-to-Eat (MRE).

“You seem distant, Hazel,” Patrick remarked, concern etched on his face. “What’s weighing on you?”
“Just… memories,” she replied, her voice barely above a whisper. “Of my brother. I can’t shake the feeling that I’m letting him down.”

While she chewed thoughtfully, Patrick watched her, curiosity mingling with amusement. There was something comforting about sharing this moment, even amid the chaos that surrounded them.

 “I see.” Hazel nodded, her mind clearly calculating. “So, tell me—how can I become a commander and get a promotion?”

hazel start to think if she would no chance on this brutal war as foot soldier

 

Patrick chuckled, launching into a lengthy explanation of the Khaganate’s ranking system and the various paths to advancement. Hazel listened intently, absorbing every detail. The conversation sparked something within her, a renewed determination to climb the ranks. The journey to the front lines became a journey toward her own ambition. Months later, that ambition would lead her to a place far from the battlefields of Asia—to the hallowed halls of Area 51.

early Agustus 2404: Area 51, North America

Once a top-secret facility shrouded in mystery, Area 51 had transformed into West Point 2.0, a bustling hub of elite military training and cutting-edge technology. The air buzzed with anticipation, thick with the scent of determination and the faint hum of machinery. Recruits gathered in the vast hall, which felt more like a coliseum than a classroom, each one a potential rival in this high-stakes arena.

The Khaganate had… interesting recruitment criteria. They had a rather large ex-prisoner population, so they had a special incentive. Freshly released convicts started at Private or, if they were really troublesome, Second Class Private. It was a practical solution to a social problem, though some purists grumbled about lowering standards. Ex-gang members and grid racers, however, were fast-tracked to Sergeant. Apparently, a knack for organized crime or high-speed vehicular mayhem translated surprisingly well to military leadership. The real prize, though, was unlocking the middle ranks – Captain and Major. That required surviving a series of accelerated courses and VR simulations that were rumored to be less "training exercise" and more "existential crisis simulator."

Hazel stood among them, her heart racing as she prepared for a critical academy test. Her eyes darted around the room, taking in the eclectic mix of unsavory figures.  some figure act as tester circling the room. acting to watch the test unfold. but on his collar. a predesigned code. similar like a barcode who only can see on UV light vision. hazel. then just answer the test with ease, if you had money and link on this nation. you pratically can do anything. and hazel had lot of money to spend.

It was a subtle reminder that even here, within the walls of the academy, secrets and hidden agendas lurked beneath the surface.

Armed with her knowledge of military tactics gleaned from reading The Art of War and her experiences in gang activity, she felt ready: an implant in her eyes that enhanced her vision, allowing her to zoom in on details with surgical precision. As she glanced at her fellow participants who already marked, she discreetly copied their answers, the thrill of the game sparking excitement in her veins.

When the results were posted, her heart raced. Hazel jumped slightly, her name glowing triumphantly on the board. “Yes!” she whispered to herself, a grin spreading across her face. She had passed the test, and the first hurdle was behind her.

Later that night, the atmosphere shifted dramatically as Zion took the podium, flanked by his formidable Amazonian Praetorian Guard. Nara, a fierce warrior with a reputation that preceded her, now stood as part of Zion’s elite bodyguard. The hall fell silent, every eye trained on the charismatic leader as he prepared to speak.

 

“My people,” Zion began, his voice booming with authority, “you are the chosen ones.”

 

A ripple of anticipation coursed through the crowd as he continued, “We have gathered here today, not just as soldiers, but as a unified force, a storm that will sweep across the known world. For too long, we have been scattered, our strength divided. Now, under the banner of the free world, we shall rise as one. We shall forge an empire that stretches from the rising sun to the setting moon.”

 

Hazel felt her heart swell with pride as Zion’s words filled the hall. The power of his speech was intoxicating, igniting a fire within her. “We shall ride across mountains, swim through rivers, and march through deserts. No obstacle shall stand in our way!” he declared, his passion infectious.

 

“But remember,” he added, his tone growing serious, “our strength lies not just in our swords and bows, but in our unity and discipline. Let us ride forth, my warriors, and claim our destiny! Let us conquer the world!”

 

The crowd erupted into cheers, a wave of enthusiasm that surged through Hazel. She knew she had made the right decision in joining this cause. But amidst the jubilation, she noticed something that gave her pause—among the stoic faces of the Amazonian guards, one girl with brown eyes wore an expression of unease. It was a fleeting glance, but it troubled Hazel. What could bring doubt to such a fierce warrior?

 

Shrugging off the thought, Hazel refocused on her path. She had her own revenge to seek, and nothing would distract her from that goal. The energy in the hall crackled with potential, and for Hazel, the journey was just beginning.

 

Later, as the moon hung high in the sky, Hazel stepped out onto the balcony, the sounds of celebration echoing behind her. While other new officers threw a party in the hall, she found a quiet moment to reflect. Gazing up at the moonlit sky, memories of her brother flooded back.

 

In the past, when her homeland had descended into chaos, warlords roamed freely, killing each other without remorse. She and her brother had formed a group of vigilantes, starting as a ragtag band and evolving into a formidable gang. They called themselves the Flying Dragon, and one by one, they took down warlord after warlord, creating a semblance of order amidst the madness.

 

But then, in the distance, Alam had begun his rebellion against the Red Nation, attacking its allies. The Flying Dragon found itself caught in the crossfire. Her brother was killed in action, and the current leader of the Flying Dragon surrendered to Alam after their base was destroyed. Hazel had been in New York for a weapons deal, blissfully unaware of the unfolding tragedy until it was too late.

Gazing up at the moon, memories of her brother washed over her. They had dreamt of bringing order to their chaotic homeland, a dream that had died with him on some forgotten battlefield. She tightened her grip on the glass in her hand, a single tear tracing a path down her cheek. "If you could see me now," she whispered, a sad smile touching her lips.

Far to the east, thousands of miles away, another front in the ever-expanding war was about to erupt.

 

Chapter 42 Vacation

The West Taiga, mid-August 2404, was a breathtaking expanse of nature, where towering larch trees stood sentinel with their reddish-brown bark and vibrant green needles. As autumn approached, these needles would transform into stunning golden yellows, painting the landscape in warm hues.

 

Alam, reunited with Eleanor, was on a journey from Xian to Carpathia. Their mission: to discuss crucial supply issues with Carmelita, a key figure in the Wanderer network. The journey was meant to be a simple paperwork mission. They traveled in a heavily armed Hind helicopter, a reliable workhorse of the True Horde air force, accompanied by a small escort.

 

Eleanor, ever the vigilant observer, squinted at the radar screen. “Something’s wrong with the radar,” she announced, her voice laced with concern.

 

Before anyone could react, the helicopter jolted violently as a surface-to-air missile struck.

 

“What? But we’re friendly! Traitors!” Alam exclaimed, incredulity etched across his face.

 

“Sir, we’re going for an emergency landing!” the crew shouted, urgency in their voices.

 

The Hind helicopter deployed flares, desperately trying to distract the second missile. The crew held their breath, praying for a miracle. The second missile was indeed diverted, but a third missile was already in the air.

 

“Incoming missile!” Eleanor warned, her eyes wide with alarm.

 

The helicopter shuddered again as the third missile struck, this time hitting the tail.

 

“We’re losing power and control! Hang on!” Eleanor shouted, gripping her seat as the helicopter spiraled downwards.

 

With a deafening crash, the Hind came to rest in the forest, surrounded by the towering larch trees that now seemed to loom ominously over them.

 

“Hahh... everyone okay?” Alam asked, his voice shaky as he surveyed the wreckage.

 

The crew slowly emerged from the wreckage, shaken but miraculously alive.

 

“Somehow, we all survived, sir,” one crew member reported, disbelief coloring his tone.

 

“Thanks, Gott! Let’s get out of here; they’ll send someone to hunt us,” Alam urged, scanning the treeline for any signs of danger.

 

As they began to move, Alam noticed one of the crew limping. “You okay, man?” he asked, concern creeping into his voice.

 

“Sir, I think I can’t walk anymore,” the injured crewman admitted, leaning against a tree for support.

 

“Come on, man. We’ll get out of here together,” Alam insisted, determination in his eyes.

 

“Sorry, sir. I can’t... It hurts. Just go,” the crewman replied, his voice heavy with resignation.

 

With a heavy sigh, Alam approached him. “Here, take my pistol,” he said, handing it over.

 

“Thanks, sir,” the crewman said, a flicker of hope in his eyes.

 

“Don’t thank me. Just aim at the enemy,” Alam instructed, his tone firm.

 

“Yeah, I’ll kill them all... Heh,” the injured crewman replied, a weak smile breaking through his pain.

 

Alam and the remaining crew started to move, navigating through the dense forest. “First, we’ll head to the nearby river and follow the stream to a settlement,” he planned, but just then, gunshots rang out in the distance.

 

“Damn! They’re coming! Quick, double time!” Alam shouted, adrenaline surging through him.

 

The crew sprinted between the trees, hearts pounding, when suddenly a dog barked nearby.

 

“We need to take care of that first... Form a line!” Alam commanded, his voice steady despite the chaos.

 

As the crew formed a line, three dogs emerged from the underbrush. “Shoot!” Alam ordered.

 

Two dogs fell, but one lunged at a crew member. Alam reacted instinctively, shooting the dog just in time.

 

“Ahh, thanks, sir,” the crewman gasped, relief flooding his voice.

 

“Not yet! There are enemies!” Alam warned, spotting armored men opening fire on them. The crew’s bullets ricocheted off the armored foes.

 

“Damn! Disengage!” Alam shouted, leading the surviving crew away.

 

“Ahh... hhh...” Alam panted as they ran, but soon he realized only three crew members remained with him.

 

“I love you guys. Let’s separate in multiple directions. We have a better chance to survive,” he said, his voice heavy with emotion.

 

The crew, panting heavily, nodded in agreement. “One last request from me, as your leader and comrade,” Alam said, removing his jacket and pants.

 

He switched clothes with one of the crew members, who now looked like their great leader. “There’s a little chance they’ll think you’re me. Are you sure you want to become bait?” Alam asked.

 

“Sir, anything for you,” the crewman replied, determination shining in his eyes.

 

“Good. I’m proud to have you all in my command,” Alam said, his heart swelling with gratitude.

 

As they prepared to separate, the crew saluted him, and Alam returned the gesture. They split up, each taking a different path through the forest.

 

But the chaos didn’t end there. An enemy, hidden in the trees, killed one crew member.

 

“Ahh! I got the leader! I win this hunt!” the archer shouted, reveling in his victory.

 

Alam kept running until he reached the riverside, panting heavily. “Hah. Hah...” he gasped, but then he heard a whistle. Turning, he aimed his weapon at an armed man. In a split second, Alam’s bullet struck the man’s mask, but the armored foe retaliated, hitting Alam in the shoulder and hip.

 

Alam was thrown into the river, the cold water enveloping him as he struggled to stay afloat.

 

“Ahh! That was a good one!” the armored man called out, but he hesitated, hearing over the radio that someone resembling Alam had been captured. He decided to stop chasing the real Alam.

 

Dragged by the current, Alam managed to resurface, swallowing painkillers as he limped along the riverbank. After a few kilometers, he spotted a group of fishermen. Desperate, he tried to shout for help, but his voice was too weak. Instead, he aimed his gun at the sky, hoping to attract their attention, but he quickly realized he might draw the hunters instead.

 

“Khen aru?” one fisherman called out, noticing Alam’s distress.

 

“Aa...a...” Alam could only point at his wounds, his vision blurring.

 

The fisherman approached, speaking in a language Alam didn’t understand, but the concern in his eyes was clear. Soon, a crowd gathered around Alam, their faces a mix of shock and curiosity. As Alam’s strength waned, he felt himself slipping into unconsciousness.

 

When he finally awoke, he found his wounds bandaged and a figure approaching the tent.

 

“Ahhh... how long was I out?” Alam croaked, trying to sit up.

 

“You’ve been passed out for a day. We found you by the river current. You have a bad wound and a high fever,” the fisherman replied, his deep voice resonating with authority.

 

“I see... do you have telecommunication?” Alam asked, his mind racing.

 

“We have a shortwave radio, but there’s been no response,” the fisherman gestured to an old radio sitting in the corner of the tent.

 

“Uh... why? Does it need a high signal?” Alam inquired, his brow furrowing.

 

“Yes, the radio needs enough wave signal for long-distance contact, but even in this region, the signal is weak,” the fisherman explained, glancing at Alam’s injuries with concern.

 

Alam lay on the riverbank, wincing as he adjusted his position. The crash of his helicopter still echoed in his mind, a reminder of the chaos that had brought him here. “Did you hear the helicopter crash nearby? Maybe other hunters?” he asked, trying to gauge his surroundings.

 

The fisherman shook his head, his expression serious. “Only you and your strange gun have landed here. We’ve looked around the river, but there’s no sign of anyone else.” He set down his wooden cup of tea and approached Alam’s wounds without asking for permission.

 

“Ahh, have you already pulled the bullet, sir?” Alam inquired, a hint of hope in his voice.

 

The fisherman nodded, pulling out a dagger and preparing to cut away the fabric around Alam's injuries.

 

“AAAA! What?! Just... huh, at least give a warning, heh!” Alam exclaimed, his heart racing as the fisherman’s blade neared his skin.

 

The fisherman paused, raising his palm in a gesture of apology before continuing his work.

 

“Okay, okay, please continue,” Alam said, swallowing some pills to steady himself. “I think I’m ready.”

 

With a nod, the fisherman resumed, deftly cutting the cloth and extracting the bullet with practiced ease. He then applied herbs to the wounds, chanting softly in a native tongue as he worked.

 

Alam blinked a few times, taken aback by the fisherman’s calm demeanor amidst the chaos. “Thank you... now,” he said, inspecting his hip. “I think this bullet just went through my body.”

 

After finishing his ritual, the fisherman poured fresh water into his palm and offered it to Alam. “Drink,” he instructed, then sat back to observe.

 

Alam coughed, the water refreshing yet startling. “So much to tell... but for now, thank you. Let me rest for a while.”

 

The fisherman nodded and stood up, taking away the empty bucket. Soon, a group of curious men and women gathered, watching Alam from a distance.

 

“Hey, wanna chocolate? Can you speak English or Mandarin? Russian, perhaps?” Alam called out, realizing he was still in his military gear, which felt out of place.

 

After a few moments of silence, a young woman with long dark hair stepped forward, her tan skin glowing in the sunlight. “Yes, I can speak English and Mandarin, but this place is so old; we prefer our native language.”

 

“I'm Alam. Have you heard or seen any soldiers around?” he asked, his curiosity piqued.

 

The girl looked surprised by the question. “You mean like the army or militia? In the north, we’ve heard there’s conflict. We haven’t heard much about this region. Is it also under conflict?”

 

“No... I think not for now. My helicopter crashed around here,” Alam replied, his tone serious.

 

“Oh, I’m sorry to hear that. Do you have other teammates? Or maybe just you?” she asked, concern creeping into her voice.

 

“I... have no idea,” Alam admitted, feeling the weight of uncertainty.

 

“So you crashed in this area alone? If you don’t mind me asking, what happened before you crashed?” she pressed.

 

“Hmmm... A missile hit us,” Alam said, looking down.

 

The girl was momentarily speechless, then took a deep breath. “I see... so are you military personnel?”

 

“Yeah, sort of... heh,” Alam replied, trying to lighten the mood.

 

“And the missile that hit you, was it from the enemy army?” she inquired, her eyes wide with curiosity.

 

“Ehem... I don’t know. It was just so sudden,” Alam said, feeling the tension in the air.

 

“Aah... I see. May I know your destination? Did you come here to get close to enemy territory, or is there another reason?” she asked, her interest piqued.

 

“Yes, I’m going to China, Xian. Have you heard of it before?” Alam asked, hoping for a connection.

 

The girl’s eyes widened. “Yes, I know that place. It’s a large city and the capital of Shaanxi province.”

 

“Bingo! So tell me, why is it so quiet here? Can you contact the outside world besides the radio?” Alam pressed, eager for information.

 

“Oh no... that radio is an antique. For the last decade, no one has ever responded to it. Why do you need outside contact so much? There’s no signal in this area. It’s hard to connect outside, and to reach outside, we need a long-distance radio,” she explained, her curiosity growing.

 

“Yes, I need to contact my friend,” Alam replied, feeling the urgency of his situation.

 

“Hmmm... that’s hard. The long-distance radio is almost impossible... unless you travel to the city to reach it,” she said, contemplating how to assist him.

 

“After I fully heal, I will try leaving,” Alam said, determination creeping into his voice.

 

“I see. You can stay here at our encampment during your recovery, for a small fee, of course. How many days do you estimate you’ll need to fully heal?” she offered, her tone shifting to one of practicality.

 

alam Groan..”. I don’t have money now. How about a letter of debt instead? You can exchange it for money while in the city,” Alam proposed, hoping for a solution.

 

The girl looked surprised but thoughtful. “Well, since you are military personnel... I’ll trust you. You can stay here while you recover. You can do small jobs around here to pay back your debt. But you don’t need money for now. Just focus on your recovery.”

 

Alam settled into the warmth of the tent, grateful for the respite from the cold outside. He turned to the girl beside him, a soft smile breaking through his weariness. “Thank you. May I know your name?”

 

The girl looked up, her face lighting up with a smile. “I apologize for not introducing myself earlier. My name is Nalin.”

 

“Nalin... That’s a cute name,” Alam replied, his tone light and friendly.

 

Nalin blushed slightly, shaking off her shyness. “It’s good to know you, Alam. I hope I can make your recovery as comfortable and smooth as possible.”

 

“Thanks, Nalin. And who is that old man who brought me here? The fisherman dude?” Alam asked, curiosity piqued.

 

Nalin chuckled at the mention of the old fisherman. “His name is Hulan. He’s very old and knows many things. Sometimes his actions seem strange, but he usually gets the job done. We trust him for many things.”

 

“Okay, Nalin. Bring me some water and a meal. I’ll rest now,” Alam instructed, settling back against the cushions.

 

Nalin nodded and turned to two boys nearby. “You two, bring fresh water to Alam and some food.”

 

The boys nodded eagerly and dashed off to fulfill her request. Alam sighed contentedly, closing his eyes for a moment.

 

After a couple of hours, the boys returned with a steaming bowl of soup and a wooden bucket of fresh water. As they set the meal down, Alam heard whispers outside the tent. Curiosity got the better of him, and he cracked open an eye to see what was happening.

 

A small crowd had gathered, their faces a mix of curiosity and suspicion. They whispered among themselves, glancing at Alam and then back at each other. Some of the girls blushed, while the boys looked on with wide eyes, clearly surprised by his presence.

 

“Hmm. I don’t understand. My skin isn’t that different from theirs,” Alam mused to himself.

 

One girl, gathering her courage, stepped forward cautiously. She peeked through the tent flap, her eyes wide with a mix of fear and curiosity. “May I ask, which kingdom or country do you come from?” she whispered.

 

Alam blinked, taken aback by her directness. “Hnn... True Horde Confederation,” he replied, his voice steady.

 

The girl’s expression shifted dramatically, her smile fading into a frown. She tilted her head, suspicion creeping into her gaze. “Do you mean you are a member of the Red Nation army?” she whispered, leaning closer.

 

“No, we’re different, dear,” Alam assured her, trying to ease her concerns.

 

Her eyes widened, and for a moment, she seemed to wrestle with her thoughts. Finally, she nodded, a hint of relief washing over her. “I see... that is a relief. But why would someone from outside the kingdom come this far?”

 

Alam shrugged, a playful smile on his lips. “I don’t know... Why?”

 

The girl looked at him, her curiosity piqued again. “How old are you?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

 

“Im... kinda 27,” Alam replied, gauging her reaction.

 

Her eyes widened in surprise. “You’re almost twice my age!” she exclaimed, a blush creeping across her cheeks.

 

“Ha, right,” Alam chuckled, enjoying the banter. “And you?”

 

“I’m 16 years old. I’m one of the oldest in my village,” she said, her voice softening.

 

“Interesting,” Alam said, leaning back. “So, do your parents live nearby?”

 

At the mention of her parents, the girl’s expression shifted. She looked down, her voice trembling slightly. “My parents got separated when the enemy army came. My dad was captured, and my mom... she was killed. I don’t remember my dad’s face.”

 

Alam’s heart sank at her words. “I’m sorry to hear that. Who takes care of you now?”

 

She hesitated, her gaze fixed on the ground. “Right now, Hulan uncle takes care of us. He’s the oldest man in this encampment and acts as our community leader.”

 

“I see,” Alam said, patting her head gently.

 

Nalin blushed fiercely at the gesture, pulling back slightly but unable to hide her smile. She looked at him, her shyness returning. “Thank you, Alam. I hope you recover quickly.”

 

“Me too,” Alam replied, closing his eyes again,

Nalin leaned closer, her curiosity piqued. “So, what about you? Do you have any siblings?”

 

Alam chuckled lightly, a hint of nostalgia in his voice. “Aha, yeah, kinda. I’m the youngest of three brothers.”

 

A smile spread across Nalin’s face at the mention of his birth order. “Are you close with your older brothers? Or are you the typical younger sibling who always gets bossed around?”

 

“No, we fought a lot when we were young,” Alam replied, a playful glint in his eyes.

 

Nalin laughed, her amusement infectious. “So you probably always lost those fights, right?”

 

“Ha! You could say that,” Alam said, closing his eyes for a moment, relishing the lighthearted banter. “Oh yeah, what’s your name again?”

 

Nalin giggled, her confidence shining through. “My name is Nalin. You know that already.” She paused, her tone shifting to a more intimate whisper. “Can I ask you something more?”

 

“Last question,” Alam replied, intrigued.

 

Nalin nodded eagerly, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “Why are you so big and strong? Is it because you’re trained as a military personnel, or are you just naturally built like that?”

 

Alam smirked, “I’m actually not that bulky. Did you know there’s someone who’s twice my size?”

 

Nalin’s eyes widened in disbelief. “N-no! How can that be possible? That person must be enormous!”

 

“World is vast, Nalin. Someday you’ll see how diverse we are,” Alam said, a hint of mystery in his tone.

 

Nalin nodded, her curiosity still bubbling. “May I ask, do you have a girlfriend? I heard military personnel never have time for personal things.”

 

Alam hesitated, a playful smile creeping onto his face. “I... kinda have that, I guess. I don’t know.”

 

Nalin’s eyes sparkled with excitement. “Really? So it’s kinda your girlfriend then? If you don’t mind, may I ask her name?”

 

“Hmn... It’s a secret,” Alam winked.

 

Nalin blushed deeply, her surprise evident. “You tease me! So you refuse to tell me her name? That means you’re really close, right?”

 

“Ha! Anyway, I need sleep. Let’s continue this later,” Alam said, stifling a yawn.

 

Nalin’s cheeks flushed even more at the thought of continuing their conversation. She glanced back at the encampment, then turned to him with a shy smile. “You have very beautiful hair. It looks soft and shiny.”

 

Her compliment caught her off guard, and she quickly looked away, embarrassed. After a moment, she retreated to her tent, whispering to herself, her heart racing.

 

As Alam drifted off to sleep, he occasionally groaned and squirmed, the remnants of their conversation lingering in his mind.

 

Chapter 43 Taiga Treatment

 

Alam’s sleep was restless.. his breath is heavy. and when he wake up in middle of night, his head is dizzy. his troat is sore, he trying reach out for water from nearby bowl. there is no water. and the fisherman is nowhere to found. if i going to die. atleast someone will find me alam thought. he then just back to sleep without water.

Eleanor, blonde hair flowing in a white dress, stood on a distant hill in a field of wildflowers. Behind her, his helicopter crew stood beside the Hind helicopter, she wave at him. alam instictly walk toward her, but their distance is getting far, alam then walk faster until he full sprint. but their distance getting far. until he see a xian. complete with their monument in other distance. alam then take the path to xian. As he turned back to the hill one last time, Eleanor and the crew gave him a final salute. He nodded and kept walking.

Morning arrived, and Alam slowly opened his eyes to the fresh air wafting through the tent. The sun was high, and the encampment buzzed with activity. He spotted Nalin walking by with a basket, casting glances in his direction.

 

“Hey, someone call... um, who was that girl again? Nalin!” he called out his voice is bit dry

 

Nalin noticed him waking up and quickly ran over, her face lighting up. “You woke up! Are you feeling better?”

 

“Kind of better, but my hips still hurt. I can’t walk properly. Can you get me some water and a meal?” Alam requested.

 

Nalin nodded eagerly, fetching a wooden bucket of water and a dish of vegetable soup with small pieces of meat. She approached his bed, bending over to set the food down, her face flushing as she withdrew.

 

alam then take a sip, and empty the cup in one glup

 

“Do you have an English book or something?” Alam asked, breaking the silence.

 

Nalin’s eyes widened in surprise. “I do have a book! Actually, I have three. But one is a mini dictionary, and the other two are about old knowledge that isn’t very useful. The useful one is small and thin but has a lot of information.”

 

“Ehh, I’m kinda bored doing nothing in bed. Yes, bring your favorite book,” Alam said, his interest piqued.

 

Nalin stood up, retrieving the book and returning to sit beside him on the bed. She placed it down carefully, her body brushing against his, sending a jolt of warmth through them both.

 

“What’s this book about?” Alam asked, glancing at the cover.

 

Nalin looked shyly at him, her blush deepening. “This book talks about many things, especially the past—how human society rises and falls, the technology, medicine, and the inventions of humanity. Mostly, it’s about history and how things became what they are today.”

 

“Oh, I see. Sounds boring but great,” Alam said, opening the book to read.

 

As he delved into the pages, She retrieved the book and sat beside him, careful not to jostle his injured side, her heart fluttering with excitement and curiosity about the man beside her.

Alam leaned back, a curious glint in his eyes. “Hmm. Tell me about your past life in the city before moving here.”

 

Nalin's eyes widened slightly in surprise. She paused for a moment, contemplating his question. “My past life? How far do you want to know? From the moment I was born?”

 

“Umm... yeah,” Alam replied, intrigued.

 

Nalin took a deep breath, a nostalgic smile creeping onto her face. “Well, I was born in a small city in East Asia. Back then, I was just a normal girl, living peacefully under the shelter of my family and community. I loved storytelling as a child, spinning tales of heroes and villains. I even wrote my own fantasy stories about epic heroes.”

 

“I see. What was life like there before the war?” Alam asked, his tone gentle.

 

Her expression shifted, a hint of sadness creeping in. “Everyone enjoyed their lives. There was no fear of war or disease. The nation was prosperous, advanced, and the people were civilized and open-minded. Technology was thriving...”

 

Alam nodded, sensing the weight of her memories. “I think that’s enough for now.”

 

Feeling a bit awkward, Nalin looked down, realizing the sensitivity of her past. “You don’t want to know why I live in this encampment now instead of the city?” she asked quietly.

 

“I know what happened next,” Alam said, patting her head absentmindedly as he turned back to his book.

 

Nalin blushed deeply, caught off guard by the unexpected gesture. “Then you know why I’m here. Can you tell me what exactly happened after the war started? I’m still a bit confused.”

 

“Not really. Not much interesting happened. You’ll learn the details yourself when you’re older,” Alam replied, a hint of mystery in his voice.

 

Nalin’s face fell slightly, and she nodded slowly, trying to mask her disappointment. “Yeah, you’re right. I shouldn’t bother you with this anymore. I’ll get you some food soon. I have work to do in the encampment.”

 

“Thank you,” Alam said, watching her as she turned to leave.

 

For three days, Alam was confined to the tent, his world a sliver of light from the entrance. He watched the mundane life of the encampment unfold: children chasing chickens, a few sheep bleating in a makeshift pen, and occasionally, a man riding a sturdy-looking deer – probably for herding, Alam figured. The fisherman who’d dragged him in never reappeared. What a jerk, Alam thought, flipping another page of his mind-numbingly boring book. At least Nalin was taking care of him.

He still hadn't changed his clothes – three days in the same grime – but he was starting to get used to it. He eyed his leather jacket, hanging near the entrance, sunning in a futile attempt to air it out. Three neat bullet holes punctuated the chest. Damn good jacket, he thought with a touch of gratitude. He was glad he’d ditched the Xian emperor’s fancy silks before the crash. Those wouldn't have stopped a thing.

Every afternoon, Nalin cooked near the tent, and Alam watched her process with a mix of curiosity and amusement. She'd hack chunks of sheep meat – each roughly the size of a man's fist – from a larger carcass, then toss them into a heavy iron skillet. After adding a handful of dried herbs and what looked like crushed berries, she’d place a heated river stone directly into the skillet, then set the whole thing over a small fire pit. It was a bizarre cooking method, but Alam wasn’t about to complain. He ate in comfortable silence as Nalin occasionally chattered about the day’s events – who’s sheep had wandered off, which child had fallen in the stream.

It was… nice, in a way. Less spicy than the Xian cuisine he’d grown accustomed to, but satisfyingly hearty. Meat had been a rare luxury in the cities and even his MRE rations on campaign, but here it was plentiful. Nalin had mentioned that while meat was abundant, spices and grains were scarce, traded from distant settlements. That explained the simple seasonings.

On the third day, Alam finally felt strong enough to venture outside. The fresh air was a welcome change from the stuffy tent. Nalin’s face lit up when she saw him. “Oh my, I can’t believe you’re feeling much better! That’s wonderful news!”

“Yeah, heh,” Alam replied, taking in his surroundings. The encampment was larger than he’d initially thought, a cluster of a dozen dome-shaped nomadic dwellings. Smoke curled from openings at their peaks. Roughly woven fences separated the dwellings, and a low rock wall enclosed a small herd of sheep. A few children napped peacefully beside a couple of deer, their spotted coats blending with the dappled sunlight. Beyond the encampment, dense woods and thick vegetation stretched to the horizon. No high-tech anything in sight.

Nalin smiled, leaning closer, a nervous blush rising on her cheeks. “Can I ask you something… about love?”

“Why so sudden? I thought you were going to show me around,” Alam teased.

Flustered, Nalin pulled back. “Oh! Right. I… lost my mind for a moment. Yes, the tour first.” She laughed softly, still trembling with nervous energy. “There’s a beautiful clearing by the river. You’ll like it.” She led him there, the water flowing gently around the encampment.

“Hmm… Where’s the nearest main road?” Alam asked, surveying the area.

“It’s far that way,” Nalin pointed. “Mercenaries and caravans use it for trading. They come every two or three weeks, mostly on weekends.”

“I see. I guess I’ll wait for them,” Alam said, considering his options.

Nalin’s concern returned. “Why do you want to go back to the city so badly? Are you sick? Or…?”

“My friends must be worried,” Alam replied, a hint of determination in his voice.

Nalin’s expression turned serious. “They must be… disappearing without a word. But is that the only reason?”

“Yes,” Alam said simply.

“If you find whoever shot down your helicopter…” Nalin began, then hesitated, “Will you… do something bad to them?”

Alam smirked. “Maybe a good spank on the butt,” he joked.

Nalin laughed, then grew serious. “There’s a rule here: no killing. Anyone who does is considered a criminal and gets kicked out after a year or two.”

“Of course,” Alam nodded.

Nalin’s concern deepened. “How are you feeling? Can you walk okay?”

“I can manage,” Alam assured her, starting to move toward the river.

“Wait! Don’t go there alone!” Nalin exclaimed, hurrying after him. “The river’s deep and cold. You’re not strong enough yet. I can get you water in the tent.”

“Oh, alright...” Alam conceded.

 

Nalin smiled, raising her hand to gently pat his neck from behind. “If you just want to wash your face, you can do that in the tent. I can get you a small bowl of water.”

 

“Yeah...,” Alam yawned. “I’m kinda sleepy. I think I’ll just head back to the tent and rest.”

 

Nalin noticed his drowsiness and leaned closer, her voice soft. “Yes, you seem really tired. Just go back to the tent. Don’t make your condition worse.” She paused, worry etched on her face. “But please promise me you’ll be okay and that nothing bad will happen to you. I don’t know what I’d do if something happened when I’m not there.”

“Yeah..i will enjoy my time in here until the caravan come. and dont worry about me now. i already feel better.” Alam replied, settling down for a rest.

"actually. Nalin replied. "the caravan is depends on the weather and… other things." She hesitated, glancing towards the woods.

"Other things?" Alam asked.

Nalin lowered her voice. "There have been… rumors. Whispers of increased activity in the forests to the east. Not just animals.

Alam's eyes narrowed. "i see"

Nalin pulling her shawl tighter around her shoulders. "They say… they say it's the raiders or rogue soldier or somethings,  The ones who prey on the caravans."

While he lay recovering in that remote village, the wheels of war continued to turn, carrying others towards their own destinies.

 

Chapter 44 major hazel

 

Time, like the relentless march of armies, paid little heed to individual struggles. Months had passed since Alam’s helicopter crash in the West Taiga. The landscape had transformed, the vibrant hues of autumn fading into the stark grays and whites of winter. For Hazel, the months had been a relentless cycle of battles, each one more brutal than the last. The fresh scar on her arm, a souvenir from a close call with a True Horde grenadier, was a constant reminder of the war's ever-present danger.

She stood beside the Buffalo, now bearing the marks of numerous battles – scorch marks, dents, and hastily welded repairs. The memory of her brother’s laughter, once a source of comfort, now felt like a distant echo, a reminder of what she had lost. “We’ll bring justice to this chaos, Hazel,” he had said. The weight of that promise settled heavily on her shoulders as she climbed into the tank.

“Hey, Patrick! Hey, orange girl!” she called out, her voice hardened by months of command.

Yu, who being out rank by hazel,bit irritated but she simply nodded. “My name is Yu..” sigh”Major.”

 

“Okay, orange-haired Yu,” Hazel chuckled, settling into the tank as the engine roared to life. The Buffalo's powerful engine belched steam into the air, its steel exterior glinting in the sunlight like a dragon’s scaly hide.

 

“Come on... let’s kill someone!” Hazel urged, excitement bubbling in her chest.

“Ulaan Baatar is the target,” Hazel said, spreading a map on the small table inside the tank. “We need to break through the Horde’s eastern defenses.”

The Buffalo rumbled forward, crushing debris beneath its tracks. The radio crackled with updates from command. The distant rumble of explosions and the faint trails of smoke on the horizon told of battles raging elsewhere. The air crackled with tension.

“Incoming!” Yu shouted, pointing towards the sky. A barrage of missiles streaked across the sky, impacting the True Horde lines in the distance. “Looks like they’re having a bad day,” Hazel said, a grim smile playing on her lips.

With a thunderous roar, the Buffalo's cannon fired, sending a shell flying toward the target. Hazel watched through her scope as a giant flame erupted, engulfing the enemy settlement.

 

“Hell is coming,” she muttered, a grim smile creeping onto her lips.

 

The battlefield erupted into chaos as the enemy tank, a massive walking fortress, appeared on the horizon. Yu's jaw dropped in shock; she had never seen anything like it before.

 

“What is that? One of ours?” Hazel asked, bewildered.

 

Yu shook her head, her eyes wide. “No! That thing is enormous!”

 

“Shoot it!” Hazel commanded, adrenaline surging through him.

 

The Buffalo fired again, the shell penetrating the enemy tank's armor and exploding inside. The enemy tank staggered, its leg blown off, and it fell to the ground, enemy soldiers inside screaming in panic.

 

“It’s just a decoy to intimidate us! Keep firing!” Hazel shouted, rallying her crew.

 

The Buffalo's gunner unleashed a barrage of fire, targeting the enemy's weak points with precision. One by one, enemy strongholds crumbled under the relentless assault.

 

As the Buffalo charged forward, enemy soldiers scattered, some still firing back in desperation. The chaos of battle surrounded them, but the Buffalo pressed on, its armor deflecting bullets like raindrops.

 

“Don’t stop!” Hazel urged, her voice rising above the din.

 

The tank continued its advance, crushing everything in its path. The enemy artillery fired back, but the Buffalo’s thick armor absorbed the blows. Hazel could feel the tension in the air, the stakes rising with every passing moment.

 

Hazel’s voice crackled over the intercom. “Enemy at 3 o’clock! Reload AP rounds!” The crew scrambled to obey, their movements practiced and efficient. Hazel peered through her scope, spotting a massive enemy tank, a walking fortress of metal, lumbering towards them.

 

“Beautiful flame,” Hazel remarked, watching as the enemy tank was engulfed in fire.

 

As the dust settled, it seemed the enemy had finally stopped firing. The battlefield lay in ruins, a testament to the ferocity of the fight. Hazel took a deep breath, the adrenaline still coursing through her veins, knowing that this was just the beginning of their advance.

Yu peered through her scope, the battlefield unfolding before her like a grim tapestry. The smoke began to clear, revealing an enemy tank engulfed in flames. Suddenly, the enemy infantry ceased their fire, and an eerie silence settled over the chaos. The scarred man, a seasoned veteran, barked orders to his crew to reload and prepare the grenade launcher.

 

“Cover me!” he shouted, pulling himself out of the tank and landing with a thud behind a bush. He began lobbing grenades at the enemy infantry, his men quickly joining the fray.

 

Yu remained focused, scanning the enemy line. Just then, she spotted an enemy soldier aiming a gun directly at her. “Patrick! Sniper position! Seven o'clock, behind the bush!” she called out, her voice steady despite the tension.

 

Patrick, quick to respond, signaled his men. They aimed their rifles at the designated spot, unleashing a torrent of bullets that ripped through the air. The cacophony of gunfire sent the enemy into a panic, but their chaos was abruptly silenced by the explosion of a grenade. Bodies fell lifelessly to the ground.

 

Hazel Yawn remarked, unimpressed. “That was almost perfect.” her vr training simulation in area 51 is indeed more brutal. make her feel detach with whole thing

 

As the dust settled, the battlefield revealed its grim aftermath. The enemy was either dead or incapacitated, and the only sounds were the crackling of flames and the distant moans of the wounded. Yu turned her scope toward the remaining enemy soldiers, crawling toward their trench, desperate for cover.

 

“Finish them, Yu,” Hazel commanded,

 

Yu hesitated, as second commander of tank, a flicker of doubt crossing her mind. She felt the weight of the order, but she nodded, steeling herself. “Scar man, tell your men to aim at the enemy soldiers. Finish them.”

 

The scar man shouted instructions, and his crew quickly trained their rifles on the injured foes. One by one, the enemy soldiers were dispatched with merciless precision, each shot a finality that echoed across the battlefield.

 

“Beautiful,” Hazel said, savoring the victory. “Now, let’s get that rail finished. We need to keep the Buffalo moving, soldiers!”

 

As the crew sprang into action, repairing the tank and laying down tracks, Hazel took a moment to enjoy a chocolate bar, his eyes scanning the quiet terrain.

 

“See anything, girl?” he asked Yu, who was still peering through her scope.

 

Yu took a deep breath. “No. Just the dead bodies and corpses in the field.” she whispered, a strange smile playing on her lips.

 

“I see,” Hazel replied, a hint of gravity in her voice. “We’ll see many more if we reach Europe.”

 

Suddenly, Yu’s eyes flared with determination. “Yes. We’ll get rid of them if they resist. Justice must be served in Europe. No one will stop our march.” yu stare at the dead officer body who still hold the sword in ground  and say "They won't be bothering anyone anymore"

 

“Indeed,” Hazel agreed, munching on her chocolate.

 

Just then, Yu shouted, “Enemies incoming from afar!” She pointed her scope in the direction of a massive column of enemy infantry, armed and advancing slowly but surely.

 

“Alright,” Hazel said, her voice steady as he calculated the coordinates for a cannon shot. “They’re dumber than I thought.”

 

The scar man relayed the coordinates to his gunner, who prepared to fire. “Fire!” came the command, and a single cannonball soared through the air, striking the heart of the enemy column. The explosion was devastating, scattering the enemy troops in all directions.

 

“Beautiful... Keep firing!” Hazel urged, watching as the chaos unfolded.

 

The enemy commander, realizing the dire situation, rallied his troops, waving his sword and shouting orders. its was a last stand for them in the region,

 

But Hazel merely chuckled, “Let him gather his primitive men in line. We’ll shoot them again.”

 

As the commander attempted to regroup his men, Hazel prepared for another strike. “Alright, kill them. That’s what mercy looks like.”

 

Yu aimed at the commander, her finger hovering over the trigger. But suddenly, she hesitated, her conscience battling with her orders.despite the context of war, seeing the enemy without proper equiment to fight back with equal strenght is too much for yu “I can’t!” she shouted, frustration evident in her voice.

 

“Fool,” Hazel muttered, taking the gunner position himself. sHe fired with deadly accuracy, the commander falling to the ground, his troops thrown into disarray.

 

 

Hazel continued firing until the last enemy soldier fled, a victorious grin spreading across her face. The battlefield was theirs, the Buffalo crew standing tall amidst the wreckage, exhausted but unbroken.

Hazel sat inside the tank, a frown creasing her brow as he pondered the looming threat of the True Horde. “Is it really the True Horde?” she muttered, disbelief lacing his voice. she still remember how they are just blitzkrieg various warlord in region and defeat flying dragon like a nothing, but now they are like cartoon villains

 

Yu, slumped in her seat, shrugged her shoulders, fatigue evident in her posture. “They’re just a big group of primitive men with guns and bayonets,” she replied, her voice heavy with exhaustion. “But don’t let their looks fool you. They’re still dangerous. I mean, did you see what their cannon did to ours? Their cannonballs can pierce almost anything. If they had more time and materials, I wouldn’t be surprised if they made something even stronger.”

 

Hazel sighed, the weight of their situation settling on her shoulders. “I’m afraid our journey is going to be very long,” she said, glancing out at the desolate landscape.

 

Yu leaned back, her gaze drifting to the sky, where the stars twinkled like distant memories. “Yeah, I think we need to stop and make camp here. We should rest. We don’t know what tomorrow will bring.” She yawned, the sound echoing her weariness.

 

“I swear, alam,” Hazel mumbled as she settled in for the night, “someday I will find you and destroy you.” With that, she closed his eyes, the promise hanging in the air like a challenge waiting to be met.

A few days later, in a bustling workshop of the Blood Khaganate, the atmosphere buzzed with anticipation as new volunteers from the Red Nation arrived. Yu, perched on a crate, giggled as she spotted a newcomer.

“Oh, so you’re the new shield meat?” she teased, her eyes sparkling with mischief.

“my Name’s Patrick,” patrick then greet the volunteer, tipping his hat with a flourish, his left hand resting on the scabbard at his side. “Welcome to the team!”

Panji stepped forward, a faint smile playing on his lips, his thin face partially obscured by shadow.

“Welcome, gentlemen,” the General announced, breaking the tension. “Today, we’re gearing up for a big push. With our new tank, we aim to defeat the True Horde on their home turf in Central Asia. But first, we need to train—infantry and tanks must work together.”

 

Panji listened intently, his expression neutral but alert. He understood the weight of the General’s words, the importance of his role in supporting the tanks and his men.

 

“Without further ado, let’s get started. Lieutenant Panji, I hope you’re ready to familiarize yourself with this kind of warfare. Central Asia will be full of surprises compared to Africa or North America. You’ll be leading the infantry tasked with supporting the tanks,” the General continued.

 

Panji nodded, absorbing the information. He kept his thoughts to himself, his demeanor calm and serious, ready to face the challenges ahead.

 

“Alright, for training, we’ll smash a small rebel settlement,” the General said with a hint of excitement, drawing his sword and rallying the troops. “Let’s go get them!”

 

As the army began to march, the training exercise unfolded. Panji led the infantry support troops into the field, following closely behind the rumbling tanks. His quiet confidence shone through as he provided cover fire, his tactical prowess evident in every move.

 

The rebels put up a fierce resistance, but the combined firepower of the tanks and infantry proved overwhelming. Panji orchestrated the assault with precision, his orders sharp and clear. The rebels, despite their bravery, were no match for the well-coordinated attack.

 

 

 

Mid-October 2404. The air in the barracks was crisp with the approaching winter. Panji sat sharpening his blade, the rhythmic scrape of metal on stone filling the quiet room. He had just returned from a successful campaign against rebel groups in Manchuria, his reputation growing with each victory. then newcomer approached, a Hazel with short, cropped hair and a confident stride and stil wearing her body suit to appear as man.

“Hey, so you’re the rising star officer?” hazel a, a hint of admiration in her voice.

 

Panji smiled, “Yeah, that would be me. What can I do for you?”

 

“I’m Hazel, a mayor and part of the Blood Khaganate. I heard you’re climbing the ranks quickly,” she replied.

 

“Yes, I am. But I have to admit, I’ve had the help of some strong commanders. I’m just an ordinary officer who makes decisions quickly,” Panji said, his smile genuine.

 

“I see… Well, like six months ago, I was still a sergeant cannon fodder, and now I’m a mayor. Do you think they’re ranking us too fast?” Hazel asked,

Panji chuckled lightly, “I can’t say it’s too fast, but yes, we’re both ranked highly. Now, why are you meeting me?”

 

“I just wanted to say hi and… let’s work together without any dirty moves against each other,” Hazel suggested, extending her hand.

 

Panji shook it firmly, “I agree. It’s important for both of us to collaborate. I don’t have any problem with you.”

 

“So, what’s your story, man?” Hazel inquired,

“Nothing much… just a life full of fighting, battles, and loss,” Panji replied, his gaze drifting to the floor.

 

“Do we all?” Hazel mused. “But do you have a particular reason for volunteering in this land? I mean, of course, our leader wants it, but do you have something personal?”

 

Panji hesitated, “I have a personal reason… but I don’t really wish to talk about it.”

 

Hazel took a sip of coffee, nodding in understanding. “So, the two of us should keep in touch, right?”

 

“Yes, I’ll be defending the front,” Panji affirmed, a determined look in his eyes.

 

“Good luck out there,” Hazel said, a smile breaking across her face.

 

“Farewell!” Panji replied, his own smile lingering as he prepared for the challenges ahead.

 

Chapter 45 fire on snow

 

General Sima, a bald man with a crimson cloak and a thin mustache, stood atop the ruins of Karakorum. The remaining high-ranking officers of the Khaganate stood before him, their numbers greatly reduced but their spirits high.

"Brothers and sisters," he boomed, his voice echoing across the ancient city. "We stand on sacred ground, where our ancestors, led by Genghis Khan, built an empire that spanned the world. For too long, we've been held down. But today, we reclaim our destiny!

The crowd erupted into cheers, their voices rising like a tempest. Sima's heart swelled with pride as he saw the fire in their eyes. "Together, we will ride forth, a tide of fury and honor! We will forge alliances, crush our enemies, and build an empire that will echo through the ages! The world will remember our names, and they will know that the Blood Khaganate has returned!"

 

With a final flourish, he raised his sword high, the blade glinting in the fading light. "For glory! For honor! For the Blood Khaganate! Let us ride into history and claim our rightful place as the rulers of the world!"

 

Hazel and the other members of the Bastard Brigade watched in awe as the Khaganate showcased their culture. They witnessed breathtaking horse riding acrobatics, an eagle festival, and even a thrilling competition that resembled armored vehicle racing with shooting targets. Hazel was captivated, deeply intrigued by the Khaganate's unique blend of tradition and modernity.

Hazel became increasingly invested in the culture of the Blood Khaganate, observing their daily rituals from dawn until dusk. Each morning, they would pray toward the rising sun, followed by a sermon from their priest. Sometimes the messages were uplifting, celebrating life, but other times they took a darker turn, encouraging a detachment from their enemies, likening them to trees that needed to be chopped down.

 

In the mornings, the women prepared meals for the men heading off to war, much like in the Red Nation, where domestic duties fell primarily to them. They tended to the children, herded livestock, and managed household tasks. Despite their close ties to the Red Nation, there was an underlying fear of annexation, which would mean a complete separation of men and women under Red Nation control.

 

they dont wanna the red nation ceasar religion convuluded to their faith. its was just european forign gods. its alien for them.

and each meal is created by love of their women. not a by machine. espencially the idea of zion “farm” is too disconected to their view

 

Later, Hazel arrived in a newly conquered territory that once belonged to the True Horde. She witnessed prisoners lined up, while Khaganate officers engaged in a twisted game to see who could execute them the fastest with arrows.

 

Women were gathered in tents, expected to entertain the soldiers, while children were separated from their parents. These children were viewed as future assets for the Khaganate, destined to be trained and indoctrinated to fight as warriors, participating in mock battles and the "Monastery of War" to foster camaraderie, loyalty, and a sense of purpose.

 

Hazel, who had faced a tough life since childhood, began to feel the effects of the Khaganate culture and its warrior ethos. The normalization of violence started to corrupt her soul. Meanwhile, a new army group emerged, a mix of Red Nation mercenaries and Khaganate warriors, calling themselves the Red Army. They drew inspiration from the old Soviet army that fought the Nazis in World War II, viewing the True Horde and other opposing warlords as subhuman. For them, this conflict was framed as a holy war.

 

In late October 2404, the workshop in Vladivostok buzzed with activity as technicians worked diligently on a fleet of Buffalo tanks, transforming them into formidable land battleships. Thick armor plates were being fitted, giving the tanks an imposing presence.

 

Hazel inspected the scars on her own tank, a frown creasing her brow. “We need new weapons to deal with those pesky saboteurs attacking us at close range,” she muttered, frustration evident in her voice.

 

Nearby, a team of weapon technicians, clad in thick white masks and protective gear, were busy constructing an automatic revolver pistol designed to fire musket-sized ammunition, a practical choice for the chaotic battlefield.

 

“Can I request a flamethrower attachment?” Hazel asked, her eyes lighting up at the thought.

 

The technicians exchanged glances and nodded. “Yes, we can build that attachment for you. But you need to be careful. Use the flamethrowers against the enemy only at short distances,” one cautioned, handing Hazel a pamphlet filled with warnings about the dangers of flamethrowers, including a stern note against using them on civilians.

 

“Don’t worry about it. A 10-40 meter range? That’s plenty. Our machine gun has a blind spot,” Hazel replied confidently.

 

The technician raised an eyebrow, surprised. “You want two flamethrowers attached to the sides of the tank?”

 

“Of course! They surround us from multiple directions. Two flamethrowers are the answer,” Hazel insisted.

 

“Alright, if you say so,” the technician shrugged, turning to his crew. “Let’s build two flamethrowers for the tank. Make them simple and easy to use.”

 

As the technicians began assembling the flamethrowers, Hazel’s excitement grew. “Good. I want this to be a priority. I want to burn someone with that next week!”

 

“Get those flamethrowers done as soon as possible! It’s our highest priority right now!” the technician shouted to his crew, urgency in his voice.

 

A week later, the new buffalo tank rolled out, equipped with its fiery attachments.

 

As the tank cruised forward, Yu stood near the flamethrowers, ready to give the order. The crew was tense, checking their weapons and scanning the surroundings for any signs of enemy infantry.

 

Hazel observed from the cupola, spotting a lone hut on the flat terrain.  “Let’s try our new gun,” she said,

 

Yu raised her voice to the crew. “All crew ready. On my signal, we will fire both flamethrowers at the target. In five seconds, we will fire the flamethrowers.”

 

The crew acknowledged her command, their anticipation palpable. As the tank closed in on the target, Hazel urged, “Don’t shoot our cannon. Let’s use our flames instead. Keep moving forward!”

 

“Ready… 3… 2… 1… GO!” Yu shouted, and both flamethrowers unleashed a torrent of fire toward the target.

 

“Oh my Gott… that is well-cooked!” Hazel exclaimed, watching as the flames engulfed the area, sending enemy infantry scrambling in panic.

 

“Mercy kill them with the machine gun!” she ordered, as the crew opened fire on the burning soldiers, some of whom were still trying to fight back.

 

Yu felt a pang of pity for the wounded, but her anger flared when she saw them shooting at the tank. “Stupid!” she shouted, before jumping out to finish them off.

 

“Why bother going outside to kill them, orange hair?” Hazel called out, surprised to see her outside the tank.

 

“I feel pity and anger at the same time. It’s so stupid! They don’t realize their musket balls bounce off our armor!” Yu replied, frustration evident in her voice.

 

“Yeah, they don’t stand a chance. Let’s finish this war quickly!” Hazel laughed,

 

“Fine. Let’s fire the main gun,” Yu said, switching the lever to control the tank’s main gun.

 

As the tank continued its advance, the main gun fired a massive shell toward the enemy line, causing chaos among the remaining soldiers.

 

“Alright, I see their trench at 400 meters. Let’s bury them alive!” Hazel declared,

 

Yu nodded, her resolve matching his. “Yeah, we will bury them alive.” She adjusted the tank’s speed, ready to charge forward.

 

As grenades and satchel charges exploded near the tank, the buffalo tank remained steady, its thick armor absorbing the blasts. The enemy infantry, desperate and reckless, attempted to climb onto the tank, throwing Molotov cocktails in a last-ditch effort to destroy it.

 

But the buffalo tank pressed on, reaching the enemy trench, ready to unleash its fiery wrath.

As the tank rumbled forward, Hazel leaned out of the cupola, a grin spreading across his face. “Alright, do the dance!” he called out, his voice filled with excitement.

 

“DANCE!” Yu shouted to the crew, her enthusiasm infectious. The crew sprang into action, pushing the lever to rev the tank’s engine to full speed. With a flick of her wrist, Yu pulled the lever controlling the flamethrowers. Flames erupted from both sides of the tank, a rain of fire that engulfed the trench ahead, creating a fiery spectacle that stretched for forty meters.

 

“I hope someone is recording us,” Hazel mused, a twinkle in her eye. “Because this is damn heroic!”

 

Yu laughed, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “It is heroic! Who knows, maybe we’ll be remembered as legends. Or villains. But either way, we have a job to do.”

 

“Yeah, another tank victory!” Hazel exclaimed, popping out of the tank to survey the scene. He spotted friendly infantry clearing the trench. “Loot only what’s necessary, guys! Don’t let those rusty weapons get in our way... and I suggest you grab those trench coats—winter is coming!”

 

The infantry chuckled at his orders, quickly getting to work. They began looting the trench, gathering weapons and supplies, while also taking Hazel’s advice to snag warm clothing. Just then, a small group of enemy survivors, who had managed to hide from the tank’s onslaught, emerged with their hands raised in surrender.

 

“More men mean more food,” Hazel said with a smirk. “Order the prisoners to help us with our baggage instead!”

 

Laughter erupted among the friendly infantry as they took the captured enemy’s weapons and belongings, forcing them to carry the heavy loads. The sight of the enemy soldiers sweating and struggling under the weight was almost comical.

 

As October rolled in, the Red Nation army began its advance toward Ulaanbaatar, the snow starting to fall with their arrival. The temperature plummeted, making movement sluggish and cumbersome. Hazel frowned as he observed the icy landscape through his scope.

 

“Our main weakness is our movement,” she noted, “but so far, there’s only been small enemy resistance. I wonder where the main bulk of the enemy is hiding.”

 

From the reports, it seemed the enemy was biding their time, likely waiting in the forest for a chance to strike.

 

“What does our supreme leader want?” Hazel pondered aloud. “Do we keep moving in winter, or do we wait until spring?”

 

It was a tough call. The harsh winter conditions made it difficult to advance, but the supreme leader had ordered them to keep pushing forward, determined to keep the enemy on their toes.

 

“Alright, keep moving,” Hazel commanded. “We’ll only take a small break in the city before we push on again.”

 

As the Red army continued its march, they faced the challenges of the winter landscape. The steppes and mountains were blanketed in pristine snow, creating a breathtaking yet treacherous environment. Frozen rivers glistened under the pale sun, and the vibrant colors of the winter sky contrasted sharply with the white landscape.

 

“Hey, Yu,” Hazel called, breaking the silence as she sipped her hot chocolate. “What’s your backstory? Why does a woman like you become a tanker?”

 

Yu chuckled lightly. “I was an ex-windup girl in New York. I escaped, but then I was captured by the windup agency. They offered me a deal: work for them for two years, and I’d earn my freedom. But I refused. I wanted to be free, so they sold me to someone else. Eventually, I was rescued by the Red Nation army.”

 

Hazel blinked in surprise. “So, you’re kind of half-human?”

 

Yu smiled softly. “In a way, yes. I’m modified, but I still have my personality, my freedom, my feelings. It’s just my body that’s been changed.”

 

“I see,” Hazel replied, intrigued. “And what do you mean by rescued? Was it like conscription?”

 

“It was almost like conscription,” Yu admitted. “But I’m grateful for it. The Red Nation army saved me from a horrible life as a windup girl.”

 

Hazel nodded, understanding the weight of her words. “Some people seem to enjoy this campaign, though.”

 

Yu’s expression turned serious. “You could say it’s exciting, but for me, it’s about bringing justice to those suffering under the True Horde’s rule. We must succeed at any cost.”

 

“What have they told you about the True Horde?” Hazel asked, curiosity piqued.

 

Yu took a deep breath, her gaze steady. “They’re brutal, ruthless barbarians who want to rule everything. They believe their rule is just, but they don’t understand what justice truly means. They take innocent people as slaves and force them to serve.”

 

“Yeah, that’s what we’ve been told,” Hazel said, her tone contemplative. “But you know, the reason I volunteered here is more personal.”

 

“Personal?” Yu raised an eyebrow. “Why?”

 

“I was an ex-gang member of the Flying Dragons in Hong Kong. The True Horde destroyed my home... and my lover,” she confessed, her voice heavy with emotion.

 

Yu’s expression softened. “I’m sorry to hear that.”

 

“Don’t worry about it,” Hazel replied, shaking his head. “It’s almost karma, I guess. But now, I don’t have anything else to do except this.”

 

Yu smiled, raising her cup of coffee, which was spiked with liquor. “Now this war has become your personal mission, hasn’t it? We’re all in this together, fighting the True Horde until our last breath!”

 

“Just don’t drink coffee with alcohol, you maniac,” Hazel warned, shaking her head with a chuckle.

 

“I’m fine!” Yu insisted, her tone slightly slurred as she took another big sip. “The mix of coffee and liquor is perfect!”

 

“Crazy girl,” Hazel laughed, finishing her drink as they continued their march into the winter landscape.

As Yu drained the last of her coffee, a playful grin spread across her face, her cheeks slightly flushed from the liquor mixed in. She looked at Hazel with a sparkle in her eye, her demeanor light and carefree despite the grim circumstances surrounding them.

“So, what’s next?” she asked, her voice laced with curiosity. “Are we going to face the True Horde’s main force now, or are we waiting for spring to come?”

Hazel sighed, her expression serious. “Our superiors told us to keep moving. We don’t have the option to wait. What concerns me most is our supply line. We’re sluggish, and we’re deep in enemy territory.”

 

Yu nodded, her smile fading slightly as the weight of his words sank in. “Oh... that’s a serious issue. The supply line is crucial. It must be protected so the soldiers have enough food and ammunition. That’s what I worry about the most when we march into enemy land. It’s like walking into a lion’s den with a steak tied around our necks.”

 

“Exactly,” Hazel replied, popping her head out of the tank to survey the scene. sHe watched as Red Army infantry struggled to clear the road with shovels and bulldozers, their progress painfully slow. “We’re damn slow.”

 

“Yeah, we’re bloody slow,” Yu agreed, taking another sip from her coffee, the warmth of the liquor giving her a momentary sense of comfort. “And that’s what we have to face in this war. Every moment counts, and our sluggish movement will only delay our victory.”

With a shared understanding of the challenges ahead, they both steeled themselves for the fight to come, knowing that the road would be fraught with danger and uncertainty.

Chapter 46 winter is coming

 

In early September 2404, the West Taiga lay shrouded in a tranquil stillness, the kind that makes you feel as if time itself has paused. Alam surveyed the scene around him, noting the peaceful slumber of his companions. Not a soul stirred; even the dogs nearby were curled up, breathing softly in their dreams. The air was crisp and cool, a refreshing embrace

 

Alam stepped outside, seeking warmth by the flickering flames of the fireplace. The sun began its ascent, casting a golden hue over the landscape, and slowly, the camp came to life. People began to wake, some stretching languidly, others still lost in the comfort of sleep, gazing dreamily at the sky.

 

“There is always the darkest before dawn,” Alam yawned “Hnm,”, taking in the beauty of the morning.

 

Just then, a figure approached, cloaked in a hood that obscured his features. He walked slowly, his gaze fixed on the ground , seemingly lost in thought. After a moment, he paused, stretched his arms, and took a deep breath before speaking in a soft, gentle tone.

 

“Morning, everyone. It’s a really beautiful morning today, don’t you agree?”

 

“Yeah, gott bless,” Alam replied, feeling the warmth of camaraderie.

 

The man continued, his voice soothing as he admired the clear sky. “The breeze is refreshing.”

 

“Yeah, it’s almost September,” Alam added, nodding in agreement.

 

The man turned to Alam, his eyes kind and inviting. “Excuse me, stranger, but would you like me to guide you around this encampment? Or would you prefer to stay here and relax?”

 

“Oh, alright, sure. Guide me around,” Alam said, intrigued.

 

“Okay. First, we should meet the others here in the encampment.” The man gestured, pointing in a direction before setting off at a leisurely pace, as if savoring every moment.

 

As they walked, Alam observed the people around them, some engaged in games, others simply enjoying the morning. The man’s pace was unhurried, embodying the calm of the morning.

 

“Let’s walk that way,” he said, leading Alam toward a group sitting in a circle, their laughter mingling with the morning air.

 

“Ehem. Yeah sure,” Alam replied, feeling a sense of ease in the man’s presence.

 

Upon reaching the circle, the man addressed the group, his voice still soft and gentle. They listened intently, nodding and smiling in response.

 

Alam stood back, observing the interactions with curiosity. The man turned to him, finally noticing his presence. “I’m sorry for not introducing myself. My name is Abubakar, a guardian of this encampment. May I know your name?”

 

“I see, I’m Alam,” he replied,

 

“It’s a great pleasure to meet you, Alam. You might wonder why I introduce myself as a guardian. Here, we all look out for each other. One takes the role of guardian while others become hunters, gatherers, or traders. Regardless of our roles, we are all guardians of one another.”

 

“Understood,” Alam nodded,

 

“May I ask you something?” Abubakar inquired, his tone shifting to one of concern.

 

“What?” Alam asked, intrigued.

 

“You seemed drowsy earlier, and it made me worry. Is everything okay? You don’t need to worry about anything here. If there’s anything you need, please don’t hesitate to ask.”

 

“I... I don’t worry about this place. I’m worried about... other places,” Alam admitted, his voice trailing off.

 

Abubakar’s expression softened. “Oh, I see. May I ask what place that is? What troubles you?”

 

“Well, I think you already know my story, right? The fisherman dude and Nalin probably told everyone...” Alam began, but Abubakar shook his head.

 

“No, I don’t know anything about your history. All I know is that you got injured in the river and that you’re a traveler from the east. That’s all.”

 

“I see. Well, I lost contact. My friends probably think I’m dead, which is why I need to wait for a caravan trader to help me contact them again,” Alam explained.

 

Abubakar’s eyes held sympathy. “So, you have friends far away?”

“Europe, parts of Asia,” Alam confirmed.

“A long journey,” Abubakar observed. He paused, studying Alam. “Is it… a personal matter?”

Alam chuckled lightly. “It’s… a business matter. An international one.”

Abubakar nodded slowly. “Trade, perhaps? Ensuring safe passage?”

“Something like that,” Alam replied, carefully avoiding specifics. “Do you know who rules this area now?”

Abubakar hesitated, then spoke cautiously. “That’s… a complicated question. There are whispers… some call him a tyrant, others a savior.”

“I see,” Alam said. “Well, I need to contact my… associates. I heard caravans come through here.”

“Three times a month, usually. The next one should be here next week,” Abubakar confirmed. “The last one was almost two months ago.”

“Two months?” Alam muttered. “I hope they come next week…”

“They will,” Abubakar reassured him. “But… you seem worried. Is everything alright with your… business?”

“I’m responsible for a lot of people,” Alam admitted. “My absence… it’s not ideal.”

“A leader, then,” Abubakar said, his gaze steady. “It must be difficult to be away for so long.”

“It is what it is,” Alam replied, waving a hand dismissively. “What do people do around here?”

Abubakar shook his head. “Simple things. Foraging, hunting. We call this place West Taiga Survival. We don’t use money.”

 

“Taiga Survival? Sounds like a boot camp or something,” Alam joked.

 

Abubakar laughed softly. “You’re not wrong about that. Everything here feels like survival training. We gather food, make fire, and even sleep outside to prepare for anything. But on the other hand, this place is quite comfortable, and the people here are friendly.”

 

“How many people are here?” Alam asked.

 

Abubakar took a moment to count. “There are roughly about 25 people in this encampment, but there are also many who stay outside, almost reaching 50. They hunt or forage.”

 

“That’s quite a lot, actually. Are most people here war refugees or natives?” Alam inquired.

 

Abubakar smiled slightly. “About half of us are war refugees, while the other half are natives. We all have different backgrounds, but we manage to live together. This camp is like a small community; we all live and work together.”

 

Alam yawned, feeling the weight of fatigue. “Sure, man.”

 

Noticing Alam’s yawn, Abubakar tilted his head curiously. “Are you sleepy?”

 

“Yes, I always feel sleepy if nothing happens,” Alam admitted.

 

Abubakar sighed, then asked, “May I ask you a personal question?”

 

“What?” Alam replied, intrigued.

 

Abubakar hesitated but finally spoke. “Did the fisherman give you any medicine or food to regain your strength?”

 

“Yeah, he gave me medicine on the first day, and his adoptive daughter provided food,” Alam explained.

 

“That was quite nice of him. What kind of medicine did he give you? We might have something similar in our medicine storage,” Abubakar said.

 

“Oh, do you have a painkiller?” Alam asked.

 

Abubakar thought for a moment. “I think we have something like that. But why do you need a painkiller? Do you feel any pain now?”

 

“Yes, my wound still hurts when I walk,” Alam replied,

 

“Oh, I see. You still feel pain in your wound? How about I check it?” Abubakar offered, concern evident in his voice.

 

“Sure,” Alam said, revealing the bullet scar on his hip. “It’s dry now, but the pain is still there.”

 

Abubakar examined the wound, his expression serious. “You’re right; this bullet wound seems dry but still causes pain. Let me try something, if you don’t mind.”

 

“What is that?” Alam asked, raising an eyebrow.

 

Abubakar pulled a bottle from his leather bag. “Can I apply this salve to your wound? It’s made from wild herbs and has medicinal properties to treat your wound and reduce pain. Is that okay?”

 

“Of course,” Alam agreed.

 

Abubakar smiled, relieved. He applied a thick layer of the salve to Alam’s wound. “Now, this will reduce your pain. We need to wait for it to take effect. Can we wait a few minutes?”

 

“Yeah, sure. I think it’s better if I head back to the tent and rest,” Alam suggested, feeling the fatigue wash over him.

 

Abubakar smiled softly, sharing Alam's sentiment. “Yes, good idea. You can head back to the tent and rest a bit. I’ll stay here to make sure no one interrupts you. Let’s meet back under the big tree once the salve takes effect, okay?”

 

A few hours later, as the afternoon sun cast a warm glow, Nalin delivered Alam’s meal.

 

“Hey girl, let me wash my clothes,” he said,

 

Nalin looked surprised but quickly regained her composure. “O-oh, sure! Wait a minute; let me get you some water first.” She hurried off, returning shortly with a bucket of water.

 

“Thanks! By the way, I haven’t seen your... father figure since I got here. Where is he now?” Alam asked, curious.

 

Nalin hesitated, her tone softening. “Um, he’s currently hunting in the forest. He’s expected back after his trip.”

 

“What's his name again?” Alam pressed.

 

Nalin’s brow furrowed as she thought. “I think his name is Yordan. It’s kind of weird for me because I never call him ‘father.’ I usually call him ‘Big Bear.’”

 

Alam chuckled. “A bear, huh? Well, I thought I might just take his tent since he never comes back. Do hunting trips usually take several days?”

 

Nalin’s eyes widened. “You’re taking someone’s tent? That’s kind of weird! But to answer your question, normally, a hunting trip lasts a couple of days. I’ve heard him mention hunting big beasts, but I never really paid attention to that stuff.”

 

“Hmm... I noticed you like to copy the way I talk, using ‘kinda weird’ a lot,” Alam teased.

 

Nalin blushed slightly. “That’s probably true. I guess I’m subconsciously mimicking you. It’s not weird, right? Just kind of funny.” She chuckled softly.

 

“I hope I’m not a bad influence on a 16-year-old girl,” Alam said, raising an eyebrow.

 

Nalin laughed. “you’re not a bad influence at all. I’m old enough to not be swayed by bad things.” She lowered her hand, a playful glint in her eyes.

 

“Right... If the caravan comes, I’ll follow them to contact my friend in the city. Will you join me?” Alam asked, gauging her reaction.

 

Nalin hesitated, then smiled. “Hmm, leaving this place sounds like a big decision, but I think I’ll join you. This place is getting kind of boring, and it’s time for me to leave too.”

 

“Are you sure? It’s not like you can come back easily. But yes, it’s a big decision,” Alam cautioned.

 

“Yes, I’m sure! This decision is more exciting than staying in this dull place. I don’t really have anything left that would make me want to come back. Let’s make this big decision together!” Nalin exclaimed,

 

Alam smirked. “I’ve lived longer than you, but I don’t think this place is boring. It’s just perhaps less flashy for teenagers like you.”

 

Nalin laughed again. “That’s probably true. This place is peaceful but also pretty boring. When you grow up here, it feels dull. But yes, you do live longer than me; I’ll give you that.”

 

“My hands feel weird from doing nothing for days. I need a small task to keep them occupied,” Alam admitted.

 

Nalin’s eyes lit up. “Well, I do have a small errand for you! I need you to pick some flowers near the creek. Can you get me as many as you can before the sun sets?”

 

“Is the place far? I still can’t walk too far,” Alam replied, a hint of concern in his voice.

 

Nalin laughed. “No worries! It’s actually quite near, just a few minutes away by the creek.”

 

“Okay then, lead the way,” Alam said, following her.

 

Nalin guided him to the small creek, pointing out the flowers. “These are the ones I want you to pick. They’re beautiful and easy to find. Just be careful when you pick them, okay?”

 

“Why pick these flowers? Why not just let them grow?” Alam asked, genuinely curious.

 

Nalin chuckled. “Oh, it’s simple! These flowers have healing properties. They help relieve pain, reduce fevers, and fatigue. I use them to ease body aches after hunting.”

 

“Cool! What should I pick? Just the flower part, or everything?” Alam inquired.

 

Nalin laughed again. “Just the flower part! You can pick the whole flower or just the petals; it’s up to you. But yes, just the flower part and put it in this basket.”

 

“Alright,” Alam said, starting to gather the flowers nearby.

Nalin watched Alam as he began to gather the flowers, her curiosity evident in the playful glint in her eyes. “Just making sure you know which flower to pick, right? There are a few different kinds around here. You should only choose the ones with bright colors, beautiful petals, and long stems.”

 

Alam grinned, “I know the calendula already. The yellowish color is pretty recognizable.”

 

Her smile widened at his confidence. “Okay, good to know you can recognize that flower easily. Just go ahead and pick as many as you can. When you’re tired, you can come back and relax.”

 

“Yeah,” Alam replied, settling down on the ground after gathering some flowers.

 

Nalin’s concern flickered across her face as she noticed him lying down. “Okay, take your time. Just don’t fall asleep, alright?”

 

“I won’t…” Alam mumbled, his eyes already drifting shut.

 

Nalin smiled softly, watching him relax. She walked over and sat beside him, leaning back to gaze at the sky as the sun began to set. “Ah, you finally relaxed, huh? You’re already tired from just a little work. Don’t worry, I’ll be here when you wake up.”

 

“Hey, let me help you cook this time,” Alam said, suddenly alert.

 

Nalin lifted her head, her eyes sparkling with interest. “Oh? You want to help me cook?”

 

“Yes,” he affirmed.

 

Her amusement was palpable. “Okay, but you have to do exactly what I say. No improvising unless I tell you to, alright?”

 

“Sure,” Alam replied, a grin spreading across his face.

 

Nalin stood up, taking his hand to pull him up beside her. “First, we need to gather all the ingredients for cooking and prepare the equipment. Let’s go find what we need, shall we?”

 

“Sure…” Alam agreed, following her lead.

 

As they walked, Nalin asked, “So, what sounds good for dinner? Anything you’re craving?”

“Something simple. Soup and meat, like usual,” Alam suggested.

Nalin grinned. “The usual, huh? We could do that, or… how about something a little more interesting? We’ve got moose, lamb, or even deer.”

“Deer sounds good,” Alam decided. “You guys have a lot of variety here.”

“We do alright,” Nalin said. “We hunt for most of it ourselves. Keeps the caravans from visiting too often.”

“Makes sense,” Alam replied. “Self-sufficient.”

“Exactly. We’ve got everything we need right here,” Nalin said, gesturing to the surrounding area.

“So, who usually does the hunting?” Alam asked. “Is it just a few people, or…?”

“Everyone can, really. We have some dedicated hunters, but anyone can join in. We share everything,” Nalin explained. “I can go grab a deer now, if you’d like.”

“You’re going hunting now?” Alam asked, surprised. “I thought we were just cooking.”

“I can handle it,” Nalin reassured him. “Hunting’s not a big deal. I’ll be back before you know it. You just relax.” She turned to go.

“Wait,” Alam said. “Maybe just a smaller animal? I don’t want you taking any risks.”

Nalin laughed. “Dear, I told you, I’m quite good at hunting. I’ll bring home a deer for dinner tonight. It’s tastier than smaller animals, and we’ll get more meat from it. Just wait here.” She waved goodbye as she walked toward the forest.

 

“Nalin…” Alam called, watching her disappear into the trees.

 

He settled back in the tent, waiting for her return. Moments later, he heard the sound of bow and arrow hitting the forest, followed by an eerie silence. Then, Nalin emerged, a deer in hand, her expression calm and triumphant.

 

“What?! How are you so fast? You’re cheating, right? You already put the deer nearby!” Alam exclaimed, shocked

 

Nalin laughed, “I’m using a bow and arrow for hunting! Of course, I’m going to be more efficient than those who use spears or melee weapons. So yes, you could say I’m cheating.”

 

Alam shook his head, a hint of skepticism in his eyes. “No, it’s too quick. I’ve hunted deer before, and it took me hours or even a day just to track and locate their position.”

 

Nalin raised an eyebrow, amusement dancing in her expression. “Oh, I know it takes time to hunt deer. But this is my specialty. I have quite a bit of experience, so I can usually bring one back in just a few minutes. The location here is quite convenient for hunting, which helps.”

 

Alam narrowed his eyes, suspicion creeping in.

 

Nalin sensed his doubt, her playful demeanor shifting to something more serious. “What? You think I just put the deer here or brought it with me beforehand?”

 

“Never mind,” Alam replied with a chuckle. “Next time, I’ll make sure to be beside you while I’m fully healed.”

 

Taking a deep breath, Nalin tried to relax. “Fine, but please don’t accuse me of cheating. This is my expertise, and I’m really good at it—at least from my perspective.”

 

“Speaking of Gott,” Alam said, “let’s skin this deer and cook it.”

 

Nalin nodded eagerly, grabbing a skinning knife from her bag. As she worked, Alam watched her deft movements, impressed by her skill. Within minutes, the deer was skinned, leaving only the meat behind.

 

“Well, that’s the hardest part done,” Nalin said, putting the skin away. “The cooking part will be easy.”

 

Alam peeked into the cooking room, where various ingredients awaited. “Hey, wait a minute… you have electricity?”

 

Nalin chuckled at his surprise. “Of course! This place is quite well-off. We have all the kitchen appliances we need. We don’t have to rely on fire anymore; we just use electricity to cook.”

 

“Ah, I see. So the only thing missing is communication, huh?” Alam mused.

 

Nalin’s expression turned thoughtful. “Yeah, that’s true. We’re mostly self-sustaining here, but we lack communication technology. No cell phones or wireless devices, so that’s our only gap.”

 

“Interesting. This place is like an adult dream,” Alam remarked.

 

Nalin laughed lightly. “Yeah, it is. Everyone here lives a peaceful life, bartering for what they need. It’s a paradise, really.”

 

“You have no idea what you’re talking about, girl. You’re only 16,” Alam teased.

 

Nalin laughed softly. “You think I don’t know much just because I’m 16? I’ve read books and heard stories from the older folks here. I know about the world outside.”

 

“Do you need help with cooking?” Alam offered.

 

“No, but thanks for asking,” Nalin replied, her tone relaxed. “I can handle it. I have plenty of experience cooking meat.”

 

“Alright, then I’ll just sleep,” Alam said, settling down.

 

“Just sleeping? You’re not going to watch me cook?” Nalin teased.

 

“Maybe I will,” Alam said with a grin before closing his eyes.

 

As Nalin cooked, the delicious aroma of the meat filled the tent, making Alam’s stomach growl. Soon, she entered with the cooked deer meat, a proud smile on her face. “Dinner’s ready! I cooked it with garlic, onion, and some herbs. You should try it!”

 

“Sure, I’ll eat,” Alam replied, eager to dig in.

“Just be careful; it’s hot!” Nalin warned playfully.

As Alam ate, he sighed. “I feel bad just sitting here like this every day. It’s war out there.”

Nalin’s expression turned serious. “I know. It’s tough, especially with the Blood Khaganate and the True Horde. You’re lucky to be here, away from the fighting.”

“You’ve heard about it?” Alam asked.

“Yes. How do you know? Do you know someone involved?”

“A close friend,” Alam admitted.

Nalin’s eyes glistened. “I’m sorry. You must miss them.” She pulled him into a tight hug, her voice shaky. “I miss the world outside too. It’s painful to think of who’s gone.”

“Hey,” Alam said, patting her head gently. “Humans are stronger than you think. I’m still here.” He rubbed her cheek gently as she relaxed into the hug, burying her face against his shoulder.

“I’m sorry for being emotional,” Nalin murmured. “So much has happened in the last two decades.”

“You’re here now,” Alam reassured her. “That counts for something.”

Nalin nodded, pulling back slightly but still close. “Thank you. You’re kind to put up with me.” She smiled softly, a gentle warmth spreading through her at his touch. “By the way, your ‘bear’ still isn’t back from hunting, is she?”

Nalin’s expression shifted to concern. “Now that you mention it, she’s been gone longer than usual. A day or two is normal, but…”

“Right,” Alam said, glancing around. “I think it’s been about ten days since I got here. Maybe more.”

Nalin counted mentally. “You’re right. It’s been over two weeks.” Her brow furrowed.

“Well,” Alam said, considering his options. “If this caravan takes too long…”

“Oh no,” Nalin interrupted, a frown crossing her face. “It’s too dangerous to travel to the city now. Especially with winter coming.”

“So, no caravans until spring?” Alam sighed.

“That’s what the weather forecasts say,” Nalin confirmed. “A harsh winter, lasting until mid-spring. No caravans.”

“Six months,” Alam groaned dramatically. “September, October… six months! I’m trapped!”

Nalin chuckled. “Trapped? This place is comfortable enough.”

“It’s not the place,” Alam said. “It’s my… position. People need me.”

Nalin grasped his hand, her concern deepening. “Important things? Who needs you? Family? Friends?”

“Yeah…” Alam hesitated.

“Who are they?” Nalin pressed gently.

“I can’t say,” Alam said softly.

Nalin released his hand, understanding. “I’m sorry. It’s alright if you don’t want to talk about it. I’m here if you need to.”

“Yeah…” Alam rubbed the back of his neck. He started to say something, then stopped.

Nalin squeezed his hand again. “What is it? Is something wrong?”

“Let’s finish eating first,” Alam said, redirecting the conversation.

Nalin nodded, refilled her plate, and sat beside him. “Here. Finish your meal. We can talk later.”

volume 5

 

Chapter 47 Sweet talk.

 

Nalin noticed Alam had finished his meal but had fallen silent again. Concern flickered across her face as she sensed he was holding something back. “Is something wrong?” she asked gently, her voice filled with warmth. “You seem like you want to talk, but you’re also reluctant.”

 

Alam shifted, hesitating before responding. “What’s your opinion on the True Horde?”

 

At the mention of the True Horde, Nalin’s expression shifted to one of shock and suspicion. This wasn’t a topic to be taken lightly; they were the enemies of both the Tsaatan and Blood Khaganate. “What do you mean by ‘what’s my opinion of the True Horde’? What do you want to know?” she replied cautiously.

 

“Let’s just say… I belong to them,” Alam revealed, his words hanging heavy in the air.

 

Nalin froze, her breath catching in her throat. “You’re a member of the True Horde?” she echoed, disbelief creeping into her voice. The warmth of their earlier conversation evaporated, replaced by tension.

 

“Yes,” Alam confirmed, his tone matter-of-fact.

 

Her voice rose in anger. “So you’re one of them—the group that massacres nomads and attacks my people?” Nalin’s eyes flashed with fury, and the tension between them crackled like static electricity.

 

“No, I don’t think we do that… We just attack mercenaries and Blood Khaganate soldiers,” Alam said, trying to defend himself.

 

Nalin’s anger simmered, but she kept her voice steady. “That’s not completely true. Your comrades attack innocent people for no reason and kill anyone who opposes them without mercy. They even kidnap children and enslave them. Your leader is a ruthless tyrant.”

 

Alam narrowed his eyes in response. “I’ve never heard that. I know some of them are new recruits under ex-warlords, but what you’re saying is half-truth.”

 

Nalin’s expression remained skeptical. “Well then, enlighten me. What’s the full truth?”

 

“The True Horde Confederation is uniting various mercenaries and tribes to take control of Central Asia. They reached Central China and Korea about three months ago. The Blood Khaganate is on the defensive… unless the Red Nation comes after them,” Alam explained.

 

Nalin’s surprise was evident. “You said the True Horde has already reached Central China and Korea? I thought they were still in Europe! Are you sure this information is correct?”

 

“Yes,” Alam replied, a hint of pride creeping into his voice. “I saw a golden statue of Kim Jong Un while I was in Korea.”

 

Nalin was momentarily stunned. “Wait, you’ve been to Korea yourself?”

 

“Yes,” Alam confirmed.

 

 

Nalin’s eyes widened in astonishment. “So you managed to conquer Korea and unite all their people into your group, and some factions joined you voluntarily? I thought Koreans were the most resistant against you, but they ended up joining you?” A hint of worry crept into her voice.

 

“Yes, some fought, and some joined willingly,” Alam replied.

 

Nalin’s expression intensified with concern. “That’s quite a development. How large is the True Horde now? How many members have you gathered?”

 

“It’s… a military secret,” Alam said, a teasing note in his tone.

 

“Of course, a military secret,” Nalin replied, rolling her eyes playfully. “Let’s make a bet. If I guess your group size correctly, will you tell me how many members the True Horde has?”

 

“Okay…” Alam said, raising an eyebrow.

 

“Good. Here’s my first guess: I think the True Horde is around two to three million people, with about 150,000 active members. Am I correct?” Nalin asked, a playful smirk on her lips.

 

“Eh… not quite right,” Alam replied, stifling a laugh.

 

Nalin’s curiosity piqued. “Really? I’m surprised to hear that. Can you tell me the correct answer so I know what my next guess should be?”

 

“The population is higher, but the army is actually lower than that,” Alam clarified.

 

Nalin furrowed her brow, trying to wrap her mind around the numbers. “Huh? That’s quite surprising. If the armies of the True Horde are lower than that number, then… I guess my next guess might be too high. How about nine to ten million for the population of the True Horde?”

 

“I think it’s safe to say that since we’re a confederation, our members might not always be truthful about their numbers,” Alam explained.

 

Nalin nodded, understanding the implication. “I see why you say the number could be higher. If some members don’t tell the truth about their number, then the actual population might be much larger.”

 

“Speaking of which, what do they say about the True Horde leader?” Alam asked, shifting the topic slightly.

 

Nalin hesitated, her tone becoming cautious. “Well… they say he’s a ruthless tyrant. He always seeks more power and tries to expand his territory. There are worse things said about him, but you probably don’t want to hear those.”

 

“Ha! I see…” Alam chuckled.

 

Nalin smiled, her mood lightening. “Now, why are you laughing at me? Don’t you know the True Horde leader is not someone to take lightly? He can be quite scary, you know.”

 

“Scary? Sure… but maybe he’s a vampire!” Alam winked playfully.

 

Nalin’s cheeks flushed at the thought. “Vampire? Pfft! Why would you say something like that?”

 

“Because vampires can be charming,” Alam teased.

 

Nalin couldn’t help but laugh, shaking her head. “Vampires are indeed charming, but they’re also dangerous. The main danger is their impulsive desire to suck you dry. They won’t stop until they drain you completely, and that’s why most people consider them dangerous monsters.”

 

Alam sighed heavily, his expression deepening as he processed Nalin's earlier warning about vampires. She noticed the change in his demeanor, concern knitting her brow. “What’s wrong? You seem bothered,” she asked gently.

 

“Yeah…” Alam replied, his voice trailing off.

 

Nalin’s concern grew as she sensed his reluctance to open up. “Okay, I’ll stop asking. Now, for my second guess… uh, how about 25 million? Do you want to reveal the true number now?”

 

“Uhk… I think I need sleep,” Alam murmured, his eyelids drooping.

 

“Yeah, you should definitely take a nap,” Nalin said, her tone lightening. “But about that bet… you remember what you promised, right?”

 

Alam stood up, ready to retreat to his bed. “I’m going to bed now,” he said.

 

“Yeah, you definitely need to rest. But let’s talk about our dinner date tomorrow,” Nalin said, smiling as she raised a finger, counting off her ideas. “How about I pick the place, and you choose the time?”

 

“What are you talking about?” Alam asked, confusion flickering across his face.

 

Nalin laughed, a playful glint in her eye. “I’m talking about the dinner date I mentioned yesterday! When you promised me dinner, you agreed to be my date, right?”

 

“Uh? What… date?” Alam stammered, trying to process her words.

 

“Oh, did you forget?” Nalin teased, leaning in closer. “Remember our bet about guessing the True Horde’s population? You promised me dinner if I got it right.”

 

“Oh, I see… that,” Alam replied, realization dawning on him.

 

Nalin’s smile widened. “Good! Now let me decide on the dinner date. Do you have any food preferences?”

 

“I… I don’t know. A date with a 16-year-old girl? Just be yourself; I’ll be okay.”

 

Nalin blushed slightly at the mention of her age. “I’m not THAT young! Please don’t describe me like that. But you’re right about one thing—I’ll just be myself. Anyway, is there any particular food you like?”

 

“So, how old are you?” Alam asked, genuine curiosity in his tone.

 

Surprised by the question, Nalin thought for a moment. “Well… I guess you can just guess.”

 

“Fourteen?” Alam guessed playfully.

 

She shook her head vigorously. “Nope, wrong again! Keep trying!”

 

“Haha… six?” he tried again.

 

Nalin raised an eyebrow, a mix of disbelief and amusement crossing her face. “No way! How can you guess that?”

 

“Okay, okay… sixteen?” Alam offered, a smirk on his lips.

 

“Not that young! You’re guessing in the wrong direction. Just imagine I’m in college. How old do I look?”

 

“Then why were you lying at first? You said you were around 16 or 17…”

 

Nalin pouted playfully, shaking her head. “Oh, that’s just a little white lie. I actually turned 17 last week. I look young because I always take care of myself.”

 

“Yeah, sure, next time you’ll be back to 16 again,” Alam joked.

 

Nalin laughed, her cheeks flushing. “Oh no, you got me! Yes, I probably would. But people often mistake me for 16, and it always makes me laugh. So, how old are you? I’m curious.”

 

“Guess,” Alam said, raising an eyebrow.

 

Nalin’s competitive spirit flared. “Okay, let’s play the guessing game. I’ll guess first. Hmm… you’re in your late 20s?”

 

“Umm… yeah, kinda,” Alam admitted, a grin creeping across his face.

 

“Late 20s? Maybe 28 then?” Nalin suggested, her eyes sparkling with mischief.

 

“Sure, you can say that,” Alam replied, chuckling.

 

“Great! So I was right. The only bad thing is you’re 28 and still single… haha,” Nalin teased.

 

“Never mind… raising a child is hard, you know?” Alam retorted, his tone suddenly serious.

 

Nalin’s expression softened. “Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to bring up any sad memories. But hey, at least now you can go on a nice date with a pretty girl like me, right?”

“Not sure… I actually already have you,” Alam said, rubbing her cheek.

Nalin blushed. “Why are you suddenly so affectionate? You were so serious just a moment ago.”

“Yeah, we should get some sleep. Tomorrow will be interesting…” Alam said, pulling his blanket around him.

“Definitely,” Nalin agreed. “Do you have a horse or reindeer? We could have a picnic.”

“I have my old horse. Why reindeer?”

“I just see a lot of them around here.”

“True. Are you serious about that picnic?”

“Yeah, let’s see,” Alam said, yawning.

“Alright! Let’s get some rest. Tomorrow will be fun,” Nalin said as they settled in for the night. The bond between them grew stronger.

The weeks passed, September’s warmth giving way to October’s biting winds and snow. On the South Front…

The frozen steppes of Mongolia lay beneath a thick blanket of snow, a serene mask on the brewing war.

Panji sat atop his tank, surveying the terrain. The distant sounds of war—infantry, baggage trains pulled by horses and reindeer—filled the air. Snow transformed the world into an untouched realm, yet the land felt tense, holding its breath.

Patrick escorted Panji. The Bastard Brigade, now near-mythical, wore unified dark crimson cloaks, carried standard-issue rifles and machetes, but some kept personal items, like Patrick’s hat and katana.

A massive column of horsemen, armed with spears, guns, and RPGs, charged Panji's squad. “Attention! Enemy troops approaching! Get ready!”

The Red Army prepared, weapons ready. The ground trembled.

Gunfire erupted, and the horsemen charged into melee. Cannons and machine guns struggled in the snow, the Buffalo tank lagging behind. The horsemen attacked with terrifying speed. Chaos unfolded.

After a frenzied melee, machine gun fire forced a retreat, but the enemy regrouped. The machine gunners focused on the enemy commander, taking him down, but the horsemen surged forward.

Just as the tide seemed to turn, the Buffalo tank, freed from the snow by a chain, rumbled onto the front lines, its firepower sending the remaining horsemen fleeing.

“Another victory for justice!” Patrick shouted. Panji and the soldiers joined the battle cry.

A general staff member arrived on a snowmobile. “What’s wrong?”

“Sir, we had a victory. They tried to get in close, but the tank held them off.”

The officer nodded, scanning the battlefield. "They're trying to slow us down. We need to move faster. This terrain is tougher than we expected. We need to link up with the central force across the Orkhon River. The bulldozer and repair truck are damaged."

Panji suggested, "We could use the Buffalo to clear obstacles."

The officer looked at the tank. "It's not designed for that. It's a mobile gun."

"But it can clear obstacles with its guns. It's faster than waiting for engineers," Panji argued.

The officer sighed. "This advance is slower than planned. We're spread thin. The central force has more supplies."

Panji studied a map. "The river crossing shouldn't be a problem."

“Good. You’ll be promoted if we make it there. My Caesar bless our mighty army,” the officer said.

“I’ll do my best. Let’s move out! We shall cross the river and regroup!” Panji said.

The Red Army prepared to advance.

Chapter 48 Red Snow

Later, in mid-September 2404, near the Orkhon River, the frozen steppes of Mongolia stretched out like a vast, white canvas, dotted with rolling hills and the distant silhouettes of mountain peaks. The landscape was starkly beautiful, the snow-covered ground sparkling under the pale sun. Panji sat atop his tank, surveying the terrain with keen eyes, while nearby scouts moved swiftly, reporting their findings.

 

“Sir, no enemy spotted. We can use the Orkhon Bridge or build a pontoon bridge,” a scout reported.

“Pontoon bridge,” Panji commanded, a smile playing on his lips. “We don’t want our tanks taking an unscheduled bath. Do you think the enemy will attack mid-stream? It would be a rather damp way to die.” Like baptizing them in ice.

“Good choice, sir. I hope our 150-ton tank can handle this river,” the scout replied, glancing nervously at the icy waters. One good crack, and it's a metal coffin.

Unlike Hazel's Buffalo tanks, Panji's tanks were the latest version, boasting extended armor and larger calibers. However, it was still unclear which tank was superior; numbers on paper meant little. The true test of their capabilities would come in battle.

 

Panji watched the engineers work tirelessly, assembling the pontoon bridge over the frozen river. “I hope so, too,” he said, his smile unwavering.

 

“What’s on your mind, sir? You seem in a good mood,” the scout asked, raising an eyebrow.

 

“Well, our pontoon bridge is almost ready, and the enemy hasn’t attacked yet. I’m just hoping everything goes smoothly,” Panji replied, gesturing toward the bridge.

 

By the afternoon, the pontoon bridge was complete. Patrick approached, eyeing the structure. “It looks solid. Our troops can cross this river without issue. Do we wait until morning, or do we go now?”

 

“Now,” Panji decided, nodding firmly. “There’s no point in waiting.”

 

Patrick looked up at the yellowish sky. “Are you sure? It’ll be dark by the time we reach the other side.”

 

“Yes, I’m sure,” Panji said, glancing at the sky. “It’ll be a bit cold, but it’s part of our journey. We’ll be fine.” He smiled, reassuring himself as much as his men.

 

“Okay, I’ll keep watch from that hill,” Patrick said before heading off with his squad, while the Buffalo tank began its slow crossing.

 

              

As Panji watched the Buffalo make its way across the pontoon bridge, his confidence grew. The engineers ensured the bridge held steady, and he nodded in approval, ready for whatever lay ahead.

Minutes passed, then Patrick’s voice came over the radio from the hill: “Enemy horsemen are coming!”

Panji’s heart pounded. He turned and saw the cavalry charging, their battle cries echoing. He signaled his squad to engage.

The horsemen, with spears and RPGs, attacked, targeting the Buffalo tank and the pontoon bridge. When the initial attack subsided, they retreated to regroup.

“Come back here, you buggers!” Panji shouted, urging his men on. The Buffalo’s gunners opened fire, hitting the retreating horsemen.

“They’re using Parthian shots! They’ll keep running if we let them,” Patrick yelled.

“Keep this battlefield clear,” Panji replied, telling the Buffalo to keep firing and Patrick to pursue.

Suddenly, a new group of horsemen, in winged costumes and armed with explosives, charged from the riverbank. “It’s better to die fighting than at home! Attack!” their commander yelled.

Night fell quickly, making it hard to see. The skirmish became chaotic, with soldiers and horsemen clashing in close combat.

Panji watched the horsemen’s explosives hit his troops. He signaled the Buffalo to fire again, but the night was filled with screams and the sounds of battle.

A horseman slipped past and detonated himself on the pontoon bridge, damaging it and trapping the Buffalo in the river. Panji’s heart sank.

The fighting continued for hours. Firelight flickered across the battlefield, casting shadows as soldiers fought in the dark.

Finally, the horsemen retreated, throwing explosive bolas as they fled. The Red Army, battered but still fighting, began to regroup.

“Patrick, we’re in the middle of nowhere! We need help!” Patrick’s voice crackled over the radio.

“Send a squad to assist Patrick!” Panji ordered.

Patrick and his squad, having chased the enemy, were now isolated and facing a counterattack in the darkness.

“Dig in until help arrives! We’ll be killed if we keep moving!” one of Patrick’s men urged.

“Damn it! We can’t dig in!” Patrick yelled, frustrated as they were surrounded.

The fighting intensified, the Red Army using bayonets and swords. Though outnumbered, they held their ground.

Then, a flare lit up the battlefield. Patrick saw the horsemen just meters away. Both sides opened fire at close range.

Gunfire erupted everywhere. Red Army soldiers and horsemen fought desperately. The air was thick with smoke and cries. Panji fought a horseman hand-to-hand.

Around him, the battlefield was chaos. Some Red soldiers broke formation, chasing the horsemen. Only Panji and his opponent remained focused.

Another flare lit the night, signaling reinforcements. Panji realized he was out of ammo. The horseman was too. They stared at each other, knowing any move could be their last.

The horseman dismounted and attacked Panji with a scimitar. Panji parried with his sword.

“Sir, we can’t shoot! Too many near misses!” a voice crackled over the radio.

“Can’t you just shoot at their location?” Panji yelled back, still fighting.

“It’s too chaotic! Our machine gun can’t get a clear shot!”

“Dammit!” Panji growled, fighting on.

Then, reinforcements opened fire. Bullets flew wildly. One hit the horseman’s leg. Panji grabbed the horseman’s gun and fired at the nearest enemy.

Shooting, explosions, blood, and corpses surrounded him. Finally, the reinforcements arrived, and the remaining horsemen fled.

“Keep firing! Don’t let them escape!” Panji shouted.

As the horsemen vanished, Panji took a breath. “We somewhat survived… Caesar is on our side today,” a soldier said.

“Yeah,” Panji replied, noticing blood dripping from his leg.

Hours later, as the survivors regrouped with the main force, Panji looked across the battlefield and saw the Buffalo tank stuck in the river, its massive frame rendered immobile after the pontoon bridge was damaged. He leaned on his sword, feeling the weight of exhaustion.

Panji’s gaze fell on Patrick, who stood staring at the tank, a look of defeat on his face. The cold wind bit at them, and the river’s icy waters reflected the dim light of the fading day.

Just then, an AI sensor chimed in, its robotic voice cutting through the quiet. “21:12 hrs. Lunar illumination at 87%. Visual: single equestrian figure emerges from the eastern crest. Duration 17 seconds. Subject and steed descend into the tree line at 21:13 hrs.”

“What in the world…?” Panji muttered as a lone rider appeared against the moonlight, chanting a strange taunt before disappearing into the trees.

“I don’t know what that is, but it gives me the creeps,” one soldier said, shivering.

Panji nodded, his instincts on high alert. “Stay sharp, everyone. We don’t know if that was a threat or not.”

“Sir, I think we should dig in until morning. We need to hope the middle army arrives to help us,” another soldier suggested, glancing nervously at the darkening horizon.

Panji studied the faces of his men, seeing their uncertainty and fear. He knew they couldn’t afford to be caught off guard again. “Alright, let’s dig in and prepare defenses. We need to be ready for anything,” he commanded.

As the soldiers began to fortify their position, Panji felt the weight of leadership pressing on him. He took a deep breath, steeling himself for whatever lay ahead. “Let’s get to work,” he urged, determination fueling his resolve.

 

Chapter 49 Date with Alam

 

As the sun rose, Nalin stretched, eager for her date with Alam. She put on her favorite dress and a touch of makeup.

Alam waited by the fireplace in the living room, enjoying the warmth.

Nalin came downstairs, her eyes meeting Alam’s. “Good morning!” she smiled.

“Hey, you look different,” Alam said, raising an eyebrow.

“Different? I did some facial care. Do I look better?”

“We’re in the middle of nowhere! Why bother with makeup? You’re naturally beautiful,” he teased.

Nalin blushed. “I just feel a bit uncomfortable without it. Do you actually like how I look?”

“Hmm. It’s interesting,” Alam said, patting her head lightly.

Nalin feigned a pout. “Why did you pat me? Do you think I’m a child?”

“Well, you are a bit,” he chuckled.

Nalin leaned forward, mischievous. “So you’re responsible for me? Then you have to pick me up on time!”

“Ugh, I’m kind of sleepy,” Alam admitted, yawning.

“Still sleepy? Should I be worried?”

“No, just bored. It’s peaceful here, but I can’t do what I usually do.”

“It is quiet. We need some entertainment.”

“What do you want to do today? Know a good picnic spot?”

“Yes! A beautiful place near the west taiga, with green forests and moonlight!”

“More trees? What’s the difference?”

“There isn’t much difference besides a few buildings. But it’ll still be a lovely date! Do you like the forest here?”

“Hmm, alright then. Let’s go. Do we bring the horse?”

Nalin chuckled. “This is my old horse. I raised him. He’s tame. I usually use my reindeer now.”

“Wait, you were a refugee? Have you always been nomadic?”

Nalin’s expression turned serious. “Yes. After the Great Disaster War. My family escaped with this horse. We arrived seven years ago, during the Crimson Nation and Blood Khaganate war. It was stressful, surviving in a foreign land, competing with other refugees for resources. I saw terrible things… refugees turning on each other for food. Even the forest animals became targets.”

A heavy silence fell.

Nalin gave him a teasing smile. “But enough of that! We have a picnic, right?”

“Right. Let’s make it a good one.”

Nalin went to the horse outside.

“Okay, let’s mount up,” Alam said, following.

Nalin stopped. “Wait! I forgot the saddle and rope! They’re in the storage cabinet.”

Alam went inside, found the saddle and rope, and pocketed a flare gun he saw.

They saddled the horse and rode off. A light breeze carried the scent of the forest.

“Hm, Nalin…” Alam began. “Do the villagers just let us go alone?”

“I wasn’t expecting chaperones. They trust me. But what about you? Are you okay without one?” she teased.

“I’m a bit naughty,” Alam said. “Maybe I’ll have to behave.”

Nalin laughed. “How naughty? Give me an example.”

“I flirt with women for fun,” Alam admitted.

Nalin leaned closer. “Really? Confident, huh? Flirt with me using your best lines!”

“I’m different now,” Alam said.

“Aw, come on! Don’t be shy!”

“This looks like a good spot for breakfast,” Alam said, glancing around.

“Yes, perfect! Quiet and private. Let’s eat here.” She reached for the picnic basket.

“Ahh… what a beautiful time,” Alam murmured.

After setting out the food, Alam leaned back. “After we eat… a little nap, right?”

Nalin nodded.

Alam playfully patted her head. Nalin giggled and patted his head back.

“Can I nap on your thigh?” Alam asked.

Nalin raised an eyebrow. “Why not use the grass? It’s soft!”

“Alright,” he said, lying back. “Pat my head while I sleep.”

Nalin gently patted his head, humming a folk song.

“Do you think fighting for someone else is worth it?” Alam asked suddenly.

Nalin considered. “In most cases, no. Relationships are fragile. But fighting for the right thing might be.”

“I think you’re right. I’ll fight for my pleasure,” Alam laughed.

Nalin chuckled. “But what’s my place in those fights?”

“You know the answer,” he teased.

“Oh? You’re just bringing me along for fun?”

“Yeah, like you said, relationships are temporary. It could be tomorrow or fifty years from now,” Alam said.

Nalin chuckled, a hint of sadness in her eyes. “Fair enough. Let’s enjoy this picnic.”

As Alam nodded, Nalin yawned and leaned closer, embracing him.

A helicopter appeared, breaking the peace. “Oh dear! A helicopter!”

“Is that a Black Hawk?” Alam squinted.

“It’s flying low, hiding in the fog. And it’s not heading toward the battle.”

“Probably a friendly or… a hunter,” Alam said seriously.

“Don’t do anything foolish! It’s just a helicopter. We’re far from the fighting. They might not even notice us.”

“It’s approaching where I crashed before,” Alam said gravely.

Nalin’s heart raced. “Wait… does that mean…”

“It’s been two weeks. Probably a rescue team,” Alam explained.

“Yeah, that makes sense. They’d likely start searching for you in this area,” Nalin said, her voice steadying.

 

“I’ll miss our time here,” Alam said, his gaze distant.

 

Nalin felt a lump in her throat. “I’ll miss it too. But we can still meet again after this picnic, right?”

 

“No… I mean, I will go,” Alam said, suddenly serious, as he shot a flare into the sky.

 

Nalin turned to look at the helicopter, watching as it responded to the signal. “They saw our flare! It looks like our picnic is coming to an end.”

 

“Yeah…” Alam’s expression was conflicted. “I hope it’s a rescue team. If not, then…”

 

Nalin, sensing his anxiety, tried to remain optimistic. “Don’t be too pessimistic. The chances of it being a rescue team are much higher than a hunting party.”

 

“True,” Alam said, glancing at her. “But I’m actually the leader of the True Horde confederation.”

 

Nalin’s heart sank. “Wait, so you’re the leader? Do you think the war will affect our relationship?”

 

“Not really. The question is… will my mask affect our relationship?” Alam replied, his tone shifting.

 

Nalin’s eyes widened in realization. “So that’s why you wear a mask outside the village. But what kind of person are you without it? That’s the true you.”

 

“I wear it to avoid the mixed opinions about me in this settlement. Hiding is just safer,” he explained.

 

Nalin considered this, her expression turning serious. “But does the negative opinion really affect you to the point where you have to hide?”

 

“Let’s just say my helicopter crashed because someone tried to kill me, and my crew probably didn’t make it,” Alam said, his voice heavy with regret.

 

Nalin’s heart ached for him. “I’m so sorry. You faced life-threatening danger, and you lost those close to you. My condolences.”

 

“Thanks,” Alam replied, his gaze distant as the helicopter flew closer. He waved at the crew, who spotted him and threw down an intercom.

 

After a brief communication, the helicopter began to rise again, disappearing into the sky.

 

“They’ll come back with ground units and escort me to a nearby clearing,” Alam said, relief washing over him.

 

Nalin smiled, feeling lighter at the thought. “That’s good! But will they harm us if I go with you to the nearest helicopter base?”

 

“Maybe. But if you do, you probably won’t see the bears again for a long time,” Alam teased.

 

Nalin sighed, a mix of emotions swirling within her. “I guess it’s an unexpected surprise for me. I’ll follow you, even if it means missing the bears.”

 

“Let’s head back to the village, then,” Alam said, determination in his voice.

 

Nalin nodded and turned toward the west taiga village. As they rode, she noticed the villagers watching them closely, their expressions a mix of curiosity and suspicion.

 

“Just ignore them. They’ll probably report this to the village leader because you’re the leader of the True Horde,” she said, her tone firm.

 

“Do you think Abubakar, the guardian of the village, hates the True Horde?” Alam asked quietly.

 

“It’s hard to say. Many villagers live under the regime of the True Horde, and while they may not openly express hatred, I’m sure some secretly do. They’re just ordinary people trying to avoid conflict,” Nalin replied.

 

 

“Alright, let’s go inside and pack your belongings,” Alam instructed, his tone casual yet firm.

 

Nalin nodded, quickly entering her small house in the West Taiga village, her heart racing with anticipation. She packed her belongings, moving with a sense of urgency. After a few minutes, she emerged, carrying her things and scanning the familiar surroundings to ensure everything was safely hidden in the dense forest.

 

“I think it’s better if you write a letter for Bear,” Alam suggested, a hint of seriousness in his voice. “He was kind of a dad figure for you here.”

 

Nalin chuckled, shaking her head. “I guess he is… but it’s weird to feel so attached to a bear after living alone without family or friends. I mean, I’m writing a letter to a bear!”

 

“Hey, do it!” Alam encouraged, a playful grin spreading across his face.

 

With a sigh, Nalin retrieved paper and a pen, her expression softening as she poured her thoughts into the letter. After writing a heartfelt message, she folded it neatly and sealed it with a candle wax.

 

“Good,” Alam said, placing his pistol on top of the envelope. “He gave me shelter and helped me recover. This is the least I can do to repay his kindness. Oh, and I took his flare gun too,” he added with a chuckle.

 

Nalin raised an eyebrow at the flare gun. “Let’s hope we don’t need that anytime soon,” she teased, then whispered a quick prayer for both Bear and the rescue team’s safety.

 

“Do you need to say goodbye to anyone here?” Alam asked, glancing at her.

 

Nalin hesitated, her heart heavy. “I don’t really want to say goodbye. I feel like they’d worry when I just disappear to follow you to the helicopter base.”

 

“Got it,” Alam replied, understanding her reluctance.

 

Nalin checked her watch, wondering how soon the rescue team would arrive. Just then, Alam patted her head, and she felt a warmth spread through her.

 

“Hey! I’m not a kid!” she protested playfully, but couldn’t suppress a smile.

 

“Just keeping you grounded,” he replied with a wink.

 

Suddenly, Nalin remembered something. “Oh no! My horse!” she exclaimed, realizing she had nearly forgotten her.

 

“What are you going to do about her? Sell her? Gift her to someone?” Alam asked, raising an eyebrow.

 

“I think I’ll give her to someone nearby. It would be cruel to leave her alone in this remote area,” Nalin decided, feeling a pang of sadness.

 

“Good plan,” Alam said, nodding in approval.

 

Nalin approached a local villager, whispering her request. “Can you please take care of my horse? I’ll give you a small package as a gift.”

 

The villager’s eyes lit up at the mention of a gift, and she quickly accepted the leather bag Nalin offered. Inside were biscuits, a small treat for her generosity.

 

Returning to Alam, Nalin felt a mix of emotions. “I guess it’s time to go,” she said, her voice soft.

 

“Good. And pack your stuff as well,” Alam said, leading her toward the main building of the base.

 

As they rode back, Nalin noticed the villagers watching them, their expressions a mix of curiosity and suspicion. She raised an eyebrow. “Just ignore them. They’ll likely report this to the village leader since you’re a top leader of the True Horde.”

 

“Do you think Abubakar, the guardian of the village, hates the True Horde?” Alam asked.

 

“It’s hard to say. They live under the regime of the True Horde, but I bet many of them harbor resentment. They’re just ordinary people who want to avoid conflict,” Nalin replied, her tone serious.

 

As they approached the helicopter, Alam waved at two ATV riders in the distance. The rescue team sped toward them, stopping abruptly as they dismounted to assess the situation.

 

“Greetings!” Alam called out.

 

“Thank Gott you’re alive, sir!” one of the crew members exclaimed, relief washing over his face.

 

“Yes, let’s head to our Hind,” Alam replied, his voice filled with gratitude.

 

Nalin climbed into the passenger seat of the helicopter, a mix of excitement and anxiety bubbling within her as the rescue team secured the doors. The pilot’s voice broke through her thoughts. “We’re ready to go. Let’s head back to the nearest base.”

 

As the helicopter lifted off, Nalin glanced at Alam. “Thank you for everything,” she said quietly.

 

Alam smiled, but his expression quickly turned serious as he looked at the monitor, scratching his head. “Oh, damn…”

 

“Are you okay? Is everything fine?” Nalin asked, concern flooding her voice.

 

“No… My vassals have been attacking the Red Nation on their own since I disappeared. The Red Army has reached Ulaanbaatar now,” Alam revealed, his tone heavy with worry.

 

Nalin gasped, the weight of his words sinking in. The balance of power was shifting rapidly, and uncertainty loomed over them both.

 

Since Alam's absence, the various warlords within the True Horde had been shaken. They were eager to replace him but struggled to find a worthy successor. Each warlord raced to prove themselves by launching successful campaigns against the Red Army, hoping to gain recognition as the new leader of the True Horde. However, their lack of coordination turned their efforts into a chaotic disaster, with campaigns lacking cohesion and unity.

 

that’s, our two protagonist alam and panji now are really in facing a new world. alam which his force slaughter in east on his vacation plus his favorite secretary and ex eleanor is missing.

while panji trying be a war hero fight a slog war in brutal war in winter. what will happen to them. do they will stop ww4? can just two man stop the force of nature?