FOB Doors, Command Center
The command center dimmed as the spy-plane feed sharpened into focus. From high above, the battlefield looked like a painting of an ant swarm.
General Hanz folded his arms, the glow from the screen reflecting in his tired eyes.
"Hmm, if only we had this sixty years ago. Would've saved us a lot of time."
"Sir," one officer reported, headset pressed to his ear, "Elfis has left the building."
Hanz didn't look away from the screen.
"Very well. Send the fireworks."
Vandoria Army, Vanguard Line
Dust rolled across the field as the Ravendawn forces pulled away.
"Hey-Hey! Look! The Ravendawn are leaving us!" A mercenary shouted, pointing at the growing gap.
"Tch! Cowards, they must be scared after seeing our wyverns exploding."
"...I can't really blame them, everything has been so weird."
"We are fighting the demons, of course it's going to be weird. But then again, this is why we are getting pa-"
SHRIILL ~ BOOOM
Explosion cut the mercenaries' chatter as it shredded all of them to pieces, and in a second another whistle cut the air—
SHRIII~L
BOOOM BOOOM BOOOM BOOOM BOOOM
Five sun-sized blasts rippled across the plain, each one swallowing dozens like hungry mouths.
"DEMON ATTACKS! KEEP MOVING IF YOU WANT TO LIVE—MOVE!" a mercenary captain screamed, voice cracking.
Soldiers ran. Not in formation—just raw panic, boots hammering dirt as prayer to the goddess spilled from their lips.
BOOM BOOM BOOM BOOM BOOM
Vandoria Army, Center
Duke Pierre paled as he watched the vanguard vanish inside overlapping fireballs.
"What… what creates those explosions?" he croaked.
His avian lookout squinted from above. "A… something falls from the sky. Like cannonballs. But far too fast."
"Then there must be cannons somewhere firing them. Find them!"
The lookout rose higher, wings beating the smoky air. He scanned the horizon—nothing. Then he lifted his gaze over the mountain ridge and froze.
"S-sir… the shots are coming… from the mountains."
Pierre stared at him. "The mountains? They can put their cannon that high?"
"No… Sir… They're launched behind the mountains… then fall exactly onto our vanguard. There are no stray shots. E-every one of them hits the vanguard directly."
Pierre froze, absorbing the implications.
"… Signal the center and both flanks. Halt advance. Stay behind the craters."
Flags whipped up. Horns blared.
"What about our vanguard, sir?" another officer asked.
"Let them draw the demons out. We've lost too much already without even seeing the enemy's ground forces. Send avian scouts to watch what happens next."
Vandoria Army, Vanguard Line
BOOOM BOOOM BOOOM BOOOM
Cluster shells rained like steel rain gods. Seven thousand vanguards shrank to fewer than half in minutes.
Men drank stamina potions with shaking hands, others triggered speed skills fueled by terror more than mana. For ten minutes they sprinted, lungs burning-
Then silence. No more explosions.
A horrible, impossible silence.
When they dared to look back, they saw it:
A trail of corpses. Thousands. Craters stacked like scales on a dragon's back. Less than two thousand remained standing.
"This… this is madness…" whispered a veteran who had survived three campaigns and looked like a child now.
But the battlefield didn't care.
A new roaring sound approached from the sky.
The soldiers looked up and saw the same flying demons that had slaughtered the wyvers. This time, they flew lower. Slower. As if it were taunting them
"ARCHERS AND LONG-RANGE MAGES! SHOOT NOW!" A captain yelled, exhaustion and desperation making his voice crack.
Arrows flew. Spells launched. But the four F-16s ripped overhead too fast for anything to matter.
Other soldiers could only mutter prayers to the goddess.
Then they saw objects falling from the aircraft—smooth capsules with no smoke trail.
No smokes. No trailing fire. Just falling.
BOOOOOOOOOMMM
Dozens of napalm canisters hit like falling suns. Where they landed, the world became molten. Fire pillars erupted, engulfing everything.
Dozens of napalm bombs make a fiery column of explosion enveloping the remaining Vanguard soldiers. The explosions themselves are more deadly than any of the previous explosions.
"AAAARGHH! AAAAAAAAHH!"
Those unlucky enough to live through the initial blast found themselves coated in liquid fire that clung to skin, armor, bone.
There was no way to put the fire out until the fire runs out of chemicals to burn. No water. No spell. No hope.
Only burning.
The screams echoes all the way across the valley.
One by one, their voices died.
And then fell quiet.
Orange ribbons dripping from the bodies. Not a single vanguard remained.
FOB Doors, Command Center
"Whooaaah!"
"H-holy hell…"
The command center collectively exhaled in awe. Their first time watching napalm work against real enemies in real time.
General Hanz remained quiet, reflective.
"…sir?" a lieutenant ventured. "Are you thinking what I think you're thinking?"
"…Yes, a barbecue sounds like a good way to get my granddaughter to visit."
4 Kilometers From The Battlefield
Prince Luxius and his officers watched the inferno from a rocky hill. What used to be the vanguard is now dissolving into fire and smoke.
"That… could've been us," one officer whispered.
Luxius didn't respond. He simply turned his horse.
"Let's go. We've seen enough."
Vandoria Army, Center
"It's over…" the avian lookout reported. "None of our vanguards survived the demons' hellfire…"
"Rrrgh…" Duke Pierre clenched his jaw. He still had half of his army—but retreat meant political ruin. Countless golds wasted, punishment awaited. But advance meant death.
Before he could choose, the lookouts dove back, screaming:
"THE DEMONS ARE COMING! THEIR HELL DRAGONFLIES AND HELL ELEPHANTS ARE APPROACHING!"
Pierre eyes widened.
"They won't fire cannons or hellfire like that with their own forces nearby… Signal Archmage Durac and the avian warriors. Prepare for engagement."
The comm officers raises the flags and blows the horns to signal the order.
Vandoria Army, Heavy Magic Division
Moments later, hundreds of ballista and two thousand mages crashed into position to welcome the enemies. Archmage Durac watched the incoming enemies through his telescope.
"Finally… enemies we can see." He exhales. "Their magic is terrifying… but we still have the numbers."
But the "dragonflies" were not mindless insects.
They were eight Apache helicopters, moved into range.
And they descended like slow, patient executioners.
"They're coming! Five Kilometers!" an outlook shouted
Inside the Apaches, demon pilots flipped their switches.
"This is Ugly Leader to all Ugly units... Light 'em up."
FWOOOOOOSH
Three hundred rockets streaked forward in a beautiful, terrible wave.
"MAGES! SHIELDS!" Durac roared.
The green barrier wall rose—too thin. Too late.
BOOOM BOOOM BOOOM BOOOM BOOOM BOOOOM
Rockets exploded across the entire center line. The earth convulsed. Barriers shattered like glass under sledgehammers. Mages vanished mid-scream. Ballistas exploded into splinters.
Those who survived tasted metal in the air, ears ringing.
Slowly their hearing returned—just in time to hear the second barrage.
BOOOM BOOOM BOOOM BOOOM BOOOM BOOOOM
"IT'S TOO STRONG! I CAN'T HOLD O-" A mage got wiped out as soon as his shield was exhausted.
"...…."
The Apache squadron leader evaluates the results of the salvo before ordering their next move.
"Ugly leader to all ugly squadron, we're heading in now. Weapons free."
All Apaches hitting the enemies with their remaining rockets and M230 chain gun while keeping a relatively safe distance of one kilometer. Their objectives are simple: inflict as much damage as possible.
"THE DRAGONFLIES ARE WITHIN OUR RANGE NOW!" Archmage Durac roared. "MAGIC BALLISTA! FUSE IT TO SEVEN SECONDS!"
The surviving ballista fix their aim towards the Apaches, artillery mages enchanting the crystal-like tip on the bolts with timed explosion magic.
"FIRE!"
WHIIZZZ
Dozens of bolts were being flung into the air towards the Apache helicopters.
"BREAK FORMATION!" Ugly Leader screamed to his comm. "EVADE! EVADE!"
The Apaches danced, weaving apart to avoid enchanted bolts fired skyward.
The Vandorian weapons exploded too slow, too wide, too late.
"Holy shit!" One of the pilots said. "They have AA guns!"
"Ugly leader to all Ugly squadrons" The comm replies. "Be careful of the enemies' AA. Remember, any scratch on the heli will be charged to your paychecks."
This is a real regulation that has been applied in the Murican military since demons tend to go crazy when given expensive toys.
"FUSE IT TO 5 SECONDS!" Durac gave another order. "FIRE!"
WHIIIZZZ
BOOOM BOOOM BOOOM BOOOM
Another salvo of bolts was flung at the Apaches, but since they kept moving around, no bolts hit the targets.
"Curses… those things are just like flies."
One of the Apache shoots a rocket towards Archmage Durac's position.
BOOOM
Durac lived—barely—protected by his own golden barrier.
"YEAAAAAHH!!" The nearby mages cheered seeing their leader manage to block the enemy attack.
"NO TIME TO CELEBRATE! SENT THE AVIAN WARRIORS!" commands the Archmage.
Then the sky darkened.
Three thousand avian warriors rose together like a living cloud.
"Fuuuuuck… those things just like the locust swarm on my nana's farm…" an Apache pilot muttered.
"Ugly squadron," the leader said calmly, "rip 'em apart with chain guns. Keep your distance."
RATATATATATATATATATATATATATATA
All of the Apache's squadron start shooting their chain guns toward the swarm while flying backwards to maintain their distance.
Feathers and blood filled the air as avians dropped by the dozens—but still pushed forward. These races are the crazed warriors of the sky, specialized to swarm wyverns with sheer numbers. Wings beating as they tried to swarm the helicopters.
CLANK CLANK CLANK
Their arrows pinged uselessly against armor plating.
"EEYYY! STOP SCRATCHING MY PAINT JOB!" a pilot complained
Two Apaches drifted too close to the swarm. The leader barked:
"Ugly 4! Ugly 7! Pull back! You are too close! They get tangled in your rotors, and you're done!"
The 2 Apaches pulled back following their leader's order.
"Ugly 5 to Ugly leader— I'm running low on ammo! These bastards are everywhere!"
"Ugly 2, go assist Ugly 5!"
"Negative Ugly leader, I'm out of ammo."
The Ugly leader wanted to jump and help Ugly 5 by himself, but his ammo is also in the red.
The squad was nearly overwhelmed-
BRRRRRRRRRRRRTTT
Dozens of avian warriors around Ugly 5 being disintegrated mid-air by the lights of fire coming from below.
"This is Bison 1-1 to Ugly leader," a gravelly voice said over comms. "You guys have enough fun?"
Below, twelve Abrams tanks and four M163 VADS-barrels hot-rolled into the battlefield like steel gods.
"Heheh. Ugly leader to Bison 1-1, you guys are late." Ugly leader grinned.
"Heheh, go home Ugly leader, let the big boys handle it from here."
"Yeah, yeah, we're RTB."
The Apaches peeled away.
Vandoria Army, Right Flank
A lone Chinook drifted in, rotors beating slow and heavy.
On the open ramp stood Stan with a cigar, the wind whipping his coat. He's grinned at the burning valley.
"Hello boys," he called to no one and everyone.
"Daddy's home."