The Map of Latessia (image in comments)
[ 4:56 PM - Somewhere in Southern Blastphere ]
The sea was rough. Boats moored, tied onto docks were flailing about and hitting the wooden plank pier, as the waves gradually picked up. The Gale Sea's winds were whirring and whirring in great whirlwinds as the air started to rise and fall.
Blastphere's coasts were empty, devoid of civilians. In their place, were thousands of soldiers maintaining their gear, doing short practice-runs, and running about while doing petty tasks.
The coastal city was low to the ground, only featuring one-two storey high buildings, with all of them being made of stone or brick and mortar. The windows were recessed deep into the walls and featured a sliding wooden panel to cover it whenever the wind picked up.
Lined in the coast were twenty one naval guns, a hundred millimeter caliber guns (single barreled) with impressively thick armor. Each gun was placed upon a raised small barbette-like tower. They were ordered a while back when the Yamato first started patroling the Gale Sea.
Lieutenant General, Jeron Sigmund. Temporary overseer over the coastal city; had quite a few words to say about the need of and 'un-need' of the strong defense of Blastphere's shores. When the resources of the Naval Guns could better the army much more off Gresh.
A light rain picked up.
He closed the window, tsk-ing while grumpingly making his way to his seat. Now only the candle-light had basked him. The house was quite loud, having several of his officers downstairs running a psuedo-party to commemorate a good week.
It annoyed Sigmund, but chose to ignore it. He looked upon the documents set on the table. Regarding the latest military missions in the East, how the Lottidentians want more money, and how the Kerfelizians wanted the Lottidentians to sell them their ships.
But, nothing there was as surprising as the newly-arrived letter upon the layside of his cluttered desk. He picked it up once more to ogle at the content.
"Germany, in light of several issues, may be dabbling in aerial combat. In any case, should any flying object be seen upon the horizon, we will take this as an immediate sign of war, and will resume our campaign."
"Flying objects…" He murmured under his breath. "Blastphere hasn't any armament that can fight such a thing. The magical corps would not be able to do anything as well. It would all come down to lucky shots with the main battery…"
He put the letter down, sighing. Repeating; 'flying objects, flying objects, flying objects' in his head. Should Germany invade sea-wise, there would be nothing that can be used to fight such a thing. He knew that the Kerfeliz had dragoons, although, the wherabouts of the dragoons have been largely debated. Even the Generals of the Army didn't know anything about the dragoons.
Sigmund speculated collusion, something was happening in Lottidenty and the secret greedy in Kerfeliz. He laughed, "that's quite stupid of me to think…"
The war lasted a month at best. And was a financial disaster. Sigmund was serving General Edmund back when he was in the Gresh line, and it was all a logistic nightmare. The Germans (he saw and observed) were quick and cunning. Using their power strategically, whenever one side shows any sign of weakness.
Then they'd practically sever the logistic path of supply for the rest of the line. Re-taking the trench meant a hard-fought battle. So the trench line was just moved back. Under the support of many artillery.
A knock came from his door.
"Come in!" Sigmund shouted.
A soldier, drenched in rain, waltz into the room, carrying a small folder tucked upon his left shoulder. "Lieutenant General, sir! This is something you must see immediately."
The party downstairs had just stopped.
It was another letter;
"Light Sloop * Sharpy - Captain
We see many silhouettes approaching Blastphere at alarming speed, they had fired upon us and we are rapidly sinking. The Yamato is coming."
Sigmund's heart dropped. Quickly, he scrammed to his window, unlocking the wooden panel board with haste and thrusting it upwards.
Maddening.
Sigmund would never be wrong, his memory served him right always. Never failing. The Yamato, towering all the other ships beside her. The Scharnhorst, the terrifying wolf that destroyed the Lottidentian Battleship Group.
And some others, all big. All alarmingly big!
His hand, down to his fingers; were twitching. With every pore upon his face flooding with sweat. It was coming. And he was thinking of many, many things. Just not a lot of solutions to those things.
"Call alarm to the gun platforms!" Sigmund yelled to the soldier, "run to the damned streets and yell it! Fire! Fire! Shit, fuck, GO!"
[ 5:02 PM - Yamato Fleet ]
Seven kilometers away from the shore, the Yamato's turrets fired.
It started with the slowly turning hydraulic-powered turrets. The mass of steel, the iron rotating ninety-degrees the other direction; with it's combined nine-barrels.
Then the four-hundred-sixty millimeter caliber barrels started to elevate upwards. At medium speed; it went from it's resting degree to quickly twenty degrees, then thirty. Prime was fourty.
Then, the salvo.
Deafening blasts roared the sky, turning the gray overcast into dark, with the realm-shattering power those huge rounds were thrown to the air upon.
The ship moved a little under the power of the guns themselves.
-1 second-
-2 seconds-
-3 seconds-
And the shore was gone.
The Kerfeliz quickly started to retaliate, firing their naval guns at the fleet. With primative rangefinding, and the constant need to rotate the slowly rotating turrets made it difficult, nigh impossible to hit the ships so distant from the shore.
Several sparks were lighting up from the shore, and just seconds later, the fleet was being responded by, by the the shore's naval guns.
The shots were missing, but the ironclads full of soldiers would not be able to traverse safely. When then, from the skies, a distinct… This audible dread… Loomed amongst all of Blastphere. Blanketing that quarter-half of sky… The B-29 Stratofortress, the F4U Corsairs, upon their light-bomber 'regalia,' and the P-47 Mustangs all the way from Foole.
Masked by the wind and the bland sky, the soldiers looked up at flying monsters, the lighter/smaller ones swooping down towards them at speeds incapable to even imagine. Bombs. Large, small.
There were so many bombs.
Quickly, the Kerfelizian ground troops ducked into whatever crevice possible around them. From the small hole in the sand, to the makeshift one caused by the Yamato's salvo.
Screams. Yells, everywhere. The guns the soldiers carried were useless in this scenario, figuring to throw them away as they were too long to fit within the places they hid within.
Some hesitated, those that did died. Those that didn't… Also died. Like a scourge upon the land, Blastphere's shores were unrecognizable anymore. The boats were decimated, set to fire. The wooden pier, set to fire. The stone houses, set to rubble. The people, set to die.
Map of Current Happenstances (Image in Comment)
[ 5:16 PM - Within one of the Naval Guns ]
The gun crew hastily loaded and shot the gun more than required pacing, the gun operator peering from the top had made an order; "angle at sixty!"
That was the most the elevation of the gun could go.
No-one wasted time. And soon, a whole bunch of men strong armed the cranks from below, turning the iron barrel upwards while the reloading crew was constantly loading and unloading, and when exhaustion got the best of them, they'd just faint off in the side while another took their post.
They were not hit by the Yamato's fury, but the whole battery lost five guns. And five guns was too many to lose in this desperate situation.
It started with the beach shore, but then steadily (and destructively) creeped it's way towards Blastphere. The first bound of explosion killed a dozen men. The second destroyed a line of Naval guns, the third destroyed the remaining men. And the fourth line of destruction killed all.
[ 5:30 PM - Blastphere ]
Blastphere was burning. Same as did Port Geo before. But five-fold in magnitude. The combined bombardment of the Scharnhorst, D-Class battlecruisers, and the Yamato had rendered the majority of the coastal city entirely destroyed. Rubbled. There was nothing left of those buildings, those one-two storey buildings with wooden-closed windows.
It was frankly too far to see, and too riddled with fire to understand, but Blastphere (even in the rain) was burning to death with it's people. It's soldiers. It's history.
[ 5:56 PM - On Blastphere's Shores ]
The ironclads finally landed. And the soldier disembarked, fully ready for battle. Only to find a field of rubble and dead bodies. The Yamato fleet stopped firing, finding that there were no enemies coming from the sea; started for the islands of Northern Gale (the Deustchland-Class battlecruisers did so) surveying any small flotilla or groups of resistances.
"Head for the inner city!" One said.
"Secure the city!" Another said.
It didn't take long for the soldiers to reach the sea wall, then up the pier. Over the rubble buildings and the cobblestone road. There were little skirmish. Those who had guns promptly discarded them. Those who didn't simply raised their hands, yelling; 'mercy! Mercy!"
There was little resistance from the civilians. They huddled up with each other, their faces riddled with the rubble and dust.
The planes up above started to move North. The P-47 Thunderbolts went back home.
The Yamato fleet began moving towards the Sea of Lottidenty (the ironclads stayed). Seizing the main buildings that were still standing. The naval guns along the shore were probed. And Blastphere: "was ours." Radioed Admiral Yuko to HQ at 6:12 PM.
[ 6:26 PM - The Throne Room of the Grand Duque ]
"Grand Duque!" One yelled, "we have lost Blastphere! The Generals have started their incursion towards Betelion!"
"Grand Duque!" Another yelled, "we have reports of a German force heading swiftly towards Lorent! I have my battalion ready for any incursion!"
"Grand Duque!" I have already made advances towards Blastphere to retake. However, fierce Betelionic resistance makes it very impossible."
"How so, General Capsinburg!" Yelled one, "We have control of our borders with Gresh!"
"They're arriving by the shore!"
"The shore!?"
"The shore!"
"Well by God, we'll lose Kerfeliz." The Grand Duque accepted this fact. "Losing Blastphere means we've lost control of the door. If the Germans can go by sea in droves, then we'll develop two many flanks in a battle where we lose in quality."
"Grand Duque…!"
"Reinforce our lands. We need every magical prowess we have upon our borders, we need artillery on every crevice on our mountains. We cannot lose Lorent."
"Yes, Grand Duque!"
The Happenstances (image in Comment)
[ 7:05 PM - The Gresh Line ]
"Reinforcements needed at the A Line! What's the hold-up for!?" A radio blared.
"We can't supply you shit, Mr. Gorbet!" Yelled the kaptain. "The Germans have us at all sides, we're fucking surrounded! We're the major line, yet you ain't recievin' shit if ain't you helpin' us first!"
He dropped the radio to the ground, crashing it with his boot, the remnants of the radio quickly disappeared with the rest of the muddy mess inside the trench.
"Kaptain!" A soldier yelled, "we can't do anything! We need to retreat! I… I don't wanna die, kaptain!"
The kaptain walked passed him.
"Kaptain! You sick son of a bitch!" The soldier leapt down from his position, approaching him angrily. "Order a retreat, now!" He smacked his face.
He was thrown to the brown mutt ground. His face, ladden brown in the mud. He weakily stood up, needing the ledge provided by the trench to support his self. "We cant…" -In a weak voice- "It's over…"
"What do you mean it's--"
A huge explosion that stroke the ground a few meters from the trench left them flying on the trench's floor once more.
The endless rumbling. The shouting of soldiers. The rain that made hearing each other difficult. The guns shooting this way and that. The whizzes and near-misses blinding your vision and clouding your heart in countless beats. The artillery blasting from behind you and infront of you. The blood pouring down the trench and flooding it with dirty-black blood.
The air was cold, the dirt covered you in every which way. It flooded in your mouth when an explosion through them your way. And when the dirt seeped into your wound, together with the air and the rain, it would further pain you.
The Germans employed a rapid amount of tactics, all uniquely meant for invasion, like a cavalry march of a thousand horses, with spears directed towards the Kerfelizians.
Trench A was quickly overpowered after the Blastphere amphibious run. The Betelionic-Germanic army quickly rushed into the trench lines with abundant artillery and tank runs that by 6:30 Trench A (of the Kerfelizian line) was quickly encircled.
Blast-by-blast.
Fire-by-fire.
Trench A was gone, completely overtaken.
Then, as soon as Trench A was taken, so was the Trench B, then Trench C, and the rest of the line of trenches, overpowered by the Germans in such a quick fashion that the rest of the world was barely even aware that the Kerfeliz were now turned to their feet, and now basically 'military-less.'
The Happenstances (image in comment)
[ 8:03 - Southern Lorent ]
His hot breath, the cold mountain range of the Latessian northern plate, the countless of Lottidenty soldiers holding themselves, and bracing for anything. Observing the Kerfeliz border for any activity, as the night sky was clear; they also supervised the air-space.
"Did you hear?" A soldier said, "the Germans have destroyed the trench line, apparantly, it was one 'big' coordinated attempt."
"Started from Blastphere an working itself up." He fixed his gun, cleaning the barrel and bolt-action before simultaneously inspecting it further.
"And Lorent is in 'danger.'" The soldier put his hand upon his inner-trench coat, as the cold got to him. "Top brass is thinking we can handle the Germans, though I disagree. We're meant for the mountains, sure, we're used to our olden technology, sure. But even I think the Germans are a net positive for… Something greater."
He slammed the bolt-action into the mechanics of the rifle. "Let us hope our government leads us somewhere good. Even if we think these southern technologies are so good, if what we've had for so long has worked, then why should we evolve."
The soldier got up. "Bah!" He exclaimed, "I should have just not joined the army, I'm so tired. So cold… Hmm…? Hey, hey, you!" -He called for a soldier who oversaw observation in the general area- "What say you that?"
The man put his binoculars to his eyes, it took some work to get the exact place the soldier wanted for him to look at, but before long. He saw it. And it was clear. His hands trembled, anxiety in his voice was evident. "By… God…"
"W-what is it? Dragoons?" The soldier asked, completely oblivious to the recent German news.
"No…" The observer took his binoculars off. "It's the Germans!"
At the sudden mention of the name in such a big way, all the soldiers and other observers around him were ticked to function in their tired states and looked to the skies.
To better serve his call of the German planes, he had rung the bell next to the soldier cleaning his rifle. All around the mountain side of Lorent, bells were going around; shouts of: "The Germans are here! The Germans are Here!" Were raging the Lorent mountain side.
Countless soldiers were thrusted into crowds, confused of what to do, but understanding that they will fire the guns they were holding.
"Where?!" They were unsure of how to fire, and where to fire. Then… "There!? How is that possible!? Our guns can effectively penetrate that high up into the air, those flying things are far too distant to be hit by our rifles…"
"The naval guns, and artillery!"
"Good call!"
Soon, the mountain troops were within their armaments. Stationed all around, the artillery were sort-of out in the open, as it served a different purpose to the naval guns that were dotted about the caves and crevices of the mountain-range side.
Machinery. The sound of people ordering. Tension built up when there still wasn't a single gun fired. The soldiers up till from the officers commanding them, were all anxious and didn't know how to respond to this sudden aerial-threat.
When, in confusion, anger, and fear; the soldiers started to fire upwards, at the German planes. Seemingly, the tracers of the rounds were bouncing off of the plane, as if it were… "Nothing."
-70 degrees-
-80 degrees-
The naval guns and artillery were set.
"Fire! Fire! Fire!" Repeatedly yelled the operators.
There were twenty-seven all-in-all. There were twenty-seven consecutive powerful shots. There were twenty-seven consecutive rounds that pierced the sky in it's brilliance. The combined blasts, shook the mountain range. From each base and each tip.
The small squadron of planes (supporting the bomber). Could not respond. The certain rounds into the air were armed with a sort of timed explosive magic.
"1-7! Code 1-7!" Yelled into the radio from the bomber, "we can't continue, we're dropping the guns,"
"Roger that, 49. We'll drop ours too so don't do that yet!" Radioed the Corsairs. Nose-diving after the explosions stopped, firing their guns, sending a whole rain of bullets into the mountain-side.
With the momentum (the planes rising quickly after their nose-dive), the bombs thrusted themselves into the mountain side, lightly hitting the gun posts though had done a lot of damage to the troops not defended by anything.
Rising.
Rising.
Now in the safe, the stratofortress released it's bombs from it's bomb bay. In a staggered manner, the B-29's many bombs destroyed what the Corsairs had not. Then, quickly, they planes turned back.
( * )
It was now the next day. And the whole world was awake. In seemingly one decisive operations. Germany had clutched upon the Kerfeliz kingdom. Representatives of the Kerfeliz had issued a surrender and the Germans have taken the kingdom for theirs. With the fall of the Kerfelizian kingdom; their operation in the East was exposed.
"Apparently, the Ruskan royal family was executed before they could even reach Campbell. And what had awaited our forces was a full on fight to 'try and retake Ruska' with some wild grand plan." Marisse threw the paper to the side, "whole load of bull."
At the current moment, Marisse was in the Land Ship, heading to Unchean for a commemorative event in the White Manor for Germany's victory.
Although, that wasn't the only thing in the news.
THE GERMANS HAVE WON, SHOULD WE BE HAPPY?
The German Times * Yod Ephrin
---
"A decisive operation that happened the other day has left Kerfeliz in ruin. Popular port-city Blastsphere was (in simple terms) eradicated by our forces. With militant, and innocent civilians caught in the process. As we've heard from many military officials, and to quote the Yamato's captain, Admiral Yuko: 'it was a one-sided battle without any prior warning. I have done as what my Lord wishes, and that is all.'"
"Although the Chancellor has yet to comment about this. We do think that there should be things assured by our government that the Kerfeliz people remain safe and treated well (as what they have been doing in Ruska). The operation has left doubt to whether the Army and subsequent Navy and new Aerial Force are still 'humanitarian.'"
Other papers had commented about it more severely. And though they were mostly positive as the war was one step over, the massacre, and the destruction caused by the military will have left deep wounds for the relations of the German and Kerfeliz.
A knock on the door of her cabin. "Ma'am! An urgent report from our diplomats in Campbell."
She herself opened the door. The soldier carrying the letter in his hand was quite confused with the sudden act, but handed the letter to her. She looked haggard, weak, and her eye-bags were 'baggier than ever.'
"Thank you, you may go." She closed the door before the soldier could thank her.
"Hmm…" The opened envelope, the contents, it was quite suprising to see it. But it seems that the Arsteli wish to join the union, offering quite a great exchange… "Contact with the Middle continent and Eastern continent… What an amazing exchange, I'll pursue this at the talk in Unchean."
( * )
Violins upon the stage, with the gentle and deep rumble of the bass of the cello putting the rhythm all together. The White Manor was beaming with music, chants, chatter, romantic, and diplomatic gossip.
The rest of Unchean was under a festival, with the government themselves personally giving feasts to each and every family in Unchean, Easel, and other cities and towns (albeit taking longer to reach).
"Please bow your heads!" The announcement took everyone's eyes, and everyone's gaze was upon the main stage directly below the one the musicians had been using. The White Manor's auditorium's lights had darkened, and a few spotlights were aimed at the front stage.
"First we shall commence the Walk of the Colors!"
One step. Two step. The soldiers at the very entrance of the auditorium slowly and ceremoniously made their way towards the stage. Carrying the flag of Germany, the tri-colors of the German Empire with great respect.
The German nationals put their hands to their chests as the national anthem played from the top-orchestra and the foreigners simply bowed their heads to show respect.
The flags were ultimately placed into their wooden stands. The soldiers saluted, and when the anthem stopped, made their way to the sides of the stage.
"Everyone!" The announcer called, "certainly it has been a great many months. We have had many ups with so few downs. This war with the contemporarians of the Northern Alliance, will soon come to a close.
"Dear people of the German military, to the Governors, and the states people and diplomats of the foreign effort… I welcome you to the humble Manor of the Chancellor, may everyone applaud, as he, our great Chancellor has come today to welcome all of you!"
With great certainty, the whole crowd of roughly three hundred people, applauded, before and even after Hierd had entered the stage.
Committing gestures with his hands like he were a magicians. With every rise; the audience's applaud grew. The cheer has loudened to an amount that it would rumble the whole auditorium like it were some small earthquake.
"Now, now!" Hierd spoke into the microphone, the crowd slowly shushed up. "I thank you all for coming, and I thank you all for your comments. I have seen great controversy with my incursions to the North, however, I will not take this as an attack, this is something to learn from.
"I thank you all, again. And I thank you all for your great service. From our governors and statesmen, to the foreign powers taking attendance within here today. I have seen a number of great changes. With policy, technology, and national security.
"However, though it may seem that we have indeed won, there lies still the Empire of the North. I shall refuse any comment. How ever, I shall say this; 'the Lottidentian Empire, the Grand Duque, and his military, will feel the wrath that they dared incur upon the German alliance.' I apologize that I was not able to do 'everything' for the alliance.
"Though, I shall assure. That this alliance will prosper. That this alliance will greaten. That this alliance will not be broken by the NA, who had dared started this war. And to those who wish to seek the controversy upon my actions, speak as you may, however, as your Chancellor. I say: that my actions are for the people. With the people. And singly thus, for the whole of the alliance.
"Once more, I thank you for your coming, we are preparing ice-cream today! I hope you'll enjoy it!"
The ending of his serious comment upon everything the papers had been saying was left with applause and some grins and smirks, seeing the comedic switch of serious to ice-cream.
( * )
The next day, the German army had surrounded the Lottidentian borders within Kerfeliz. They made no incursions. The Lottidenty defense was unreal and unbreakable. What was needed was a retaliating power that could get rid of the guns the Lottidenty were using, hidden within the walls of the great mountains.
There were some things done, but without the use of planes, the army could do nothing for a while. This was, presumably, the largest passive-siege (assuming Lottidenty) in it of itself was a fortress.
And indeed it will be. The mountain lands have little fertile land, and land for any agricultural growth. Having been relying on Kerfeliz and other Northern Alliance members. But with the North-Eastern allies of Campbell and Laplace being scrutinized by the Germans in quick time, it seems that every single vantage of food will be lost.
And the people will starve.
"Something we cannot let happen." The Grand Duque said, "I'm issuing an order, have our ships reach the middle continent, and form any deals you can make to get any bread and wheat possible. Wheat and grain are priority. Any food that can't last a winter are a no. And food that can't last months, are a no."
"Yes, sire!" The court officials quickly left the throne room to carry out the order.
"The Germans…" He angrily snarled, his veins were popping, his eyes barely recognizable in the rage he felt." I feel we won't last a year if they cut off every single… DAMNED PLACE! DAMN THE GERMANS! THE FUCKING GERMANS! 'THE' GERMANS! THE SCUM OF THE EARTH! MAY THEY DIE! MAY THEIR LEADER DIE AND I PISS UPON HIS GRAVE AND DEFILE HIS CORPSE WITH MY HOUNDS! THAT MAN! HE WILL WITNESS THE POWER OF THE LOTTIDENTIAN EMPIRE!"