**Novoros Army Camp at Night**
The entire camp was ready for war, but they were disappointed not to be part of the initial offensive. However, upon seeing the number of injured and dead being brought back, their eagerness waned. Many of the dead had long arrows protruding from their heads and chests, a sobering reminder of the battle's brutality.
"3rd Division Commander, the general is calling for you. Orders came from high command," a soldier approached a table near the mess hall in the camp.
"I see. I'll go immediately," the officer, who had blonde hair and green eyes, stood up, adjusted his combat uniform, and headed toward the commander's tent.
---
**A Few Minutes Later**
"Commander," the officer saluted, and the commander returned the salute before speaking.
"I want your division to reinforce the front lines. With our current weapons and training, it's enough to hold that position. The 8th Legion is currently mopping up and defending other areas. The 10th Legion led the attack, but half their numbers are either injured or dead. The enemy resistance is zealous, so expect counter-offensives and traps. Your unit is to defend only, and two companies of the 10th Division will assist you," the commander explained, handing over some documents.
The officer saluted, took the documents, and left for his division HQ.
---
**3rd Division HQ Tent**
"Harris, gather the officers from each battalion and brigade. I have new orders for deployment," the commander said to his secretary, who was also an officer.
"Yes, Commander."
---
**A Few Minutes Later**
"Since everyone's here, I'll keep it brief. We have new orders to defend a point on the line. We won't be alone—two companies from the 10th Armored Division will assist us. I want everyone ready for defensive warfare," the commander said seriously.
"Yes, sir. We'll be ready in two hours," replied the lead officer.
"Good. I'll flag down some trucks for us," the commander said, leaving the tent to head toward the transport corps, where trucks were assisting with moving spare parts to the Draconian battle lines along with other resources.
---
**After a Few Minutes**
"Hmmm, yes, we can spare a few trucks. Some of them are carrying resources to build up defenses on your assigned section. I can hold them for about 2.5 hours," the man at the desk job said, looking up at the divisional commander.
"Thank you. I'll have my men ready before the trucks depart," the commander said and left.
Soon, in the camp section of the 10th Division, mobilization began. Alarms blared as commanding officers and non-commissioned officers shouted orders. Soldiers equipped themselves with uniforms, chest steel plates, steel helmets, and gas masks. Their primary weapon was the Sevindil assault rifle, resembling the German Wehrmacht's STG-44 from World War II. Each soldier also carried two grenades and one smoke grenade. Alex had ensured that resources weren't wasted on multiple weapons, personally organizing the army's weapon training and specialization for specific terrains.
To Alex, the Novoros army was far more organized than the legions of the Draconian Empire. In the future, he planned to reorganize the Draconian army and steadily improve the flow of recruits with the help of clones. He had noticed that clones were being used primarily as manual labor, helping Novoros create sub-legions known as the Underworld. He had ordered the production of clones to slow down but anticipated larger future battles due to untapped information that was yet to be revealed.
---
**Within an Hour**
The 10th Infantry Division of the 1st Army had gathered, weapons ready. The officer in combat uniform blew his whistle, and soldiers boarded the trucks. Another hour later, the engines started, and the convoy began moving towards the battle lines.
"And off we go," the division commander muttered from his seat in the jeep.
---
**A Few Hours Later**
"All right. I want each company commander to send reports of any damage to the trench line, and I want you to patch them up as quickly as possible. The enemy won't give us time to repair, so establish a routine. No patrols—they'll only get you killed," a battalion commander instructed his company commanders.
"Yes, sir!" they all replied, saluting.
The 10th Division was covering a nearly 2 km stretch of the line, with the command post not far from the trench line. It was well-defended, with one Draconian infantry company and one tank company stationed there, ready to reinforce any breaches.
Soldiers repairing the trench line heard distant gunfire and war cries.
"Damn, which line are they targeting?" a Novoros soldier asked, carrying a sandbag.
"Like hell I know, but at least it's not us. If it were, we'd be fighting hand-to-hand by now," another soldier, bulkier and carrying two sandbags, replied.
Suddenly, the peaceful atmosphere was shattered by a shout.
"Titans!" a soldier yelled, dropping his building materials and grabbing his assault rifle. He began firing at the oncoming horde.
"Platoon, defensive formations now!" he shouted, prioritizing defense over construction. Fortunately, the machine gun emplacement began firing full-auto, hitting their marks with the MG41 recoil machine gun.
"Don't waste your ammo—aim true," a half-elf Novoros officer advised. Despite his elven heritage, his origins were tragic. His mother had been a war slave, and after his birth, they had ordered him to be fed to monsters. Luckily, Novoros special forces saved him and his mother. He had joined the military seeking vengeance. While he had the physical traits of an elf, he lacked magical abilities, but he preferred guns over magic anyway.
"Sir, should we activate the mines?" his second-in-command asked, knowing that the manual prioritized the first and second lines of defense over the trench line.
"Yes, make sure to maximize damage," the officer replied.
The titan horde numbered over 25,000, but by the time they reached the trenches, only 18,000 remained. They had to navigate a maze of barbed wire coated with poison, but Novoros soldiers didn't give them a chance. They fired into the crowd while mortar shells rained down. The casualties mounted into the thousands.
Seeing their losses, the titans unveiled a secret weapon: a titan soldier carrying a barrel of gunpowder with an enchantment on the lid. As soon as it was thrown—
**Boom.**
The explosion blew apart sections of the defenses, creating gaps. More barrels were brought in and thrown at the trenches. Soldiers died or lost limbs as they tried to shoot the barrels out of the air.
"Sir, the enemy is using gunpowder!" the second-in-command informed Ernest, the half-elf officer. Ernest grabbed his radio.
"All units, if you see a titan carrying a barrel of gunpowder, shoot on sight! I don't want any of them landing in our lines," he ordered, then took a sniping position and fired at any titan soldier giving commands.
The tide began to turn as titan soldiers holding the barrels were shot down, and the explosives fell back into their own ranks.
"Retreat!" a low-ranking titan general shouted as their numbers dwindled. The titan forces began a disorderly retreat, and the Novoros soldiers ceased fire.
---
**A Few Minutes Later**
Only 50 Novoros soldiers had died, but Ernest felt the weight of the loss as he looked at the dog tags on his table. Leading an entire company was exhausting, but he knew the consequences of war.
"So, how are the trench fortifications?" he asked his second-in-command.
"We're almost done. We're just repairing the latest damage and adding some padding," the second-in-command replied.
"Good. Send these dog tags to division command," Ernest said, handing over the tags.
"Yes, sir. I'll send a runner," the second-in-command said, placing the dog tags in a pouch and leaving the small bunker.
---
**On Chronos' Side**
A large group of over 50,000 war hawks, each the size of a horse, stood in neat lines. Their riders, equipped with long lances, were members of the Wings of Heaven mercenary company, based in Pangea, Tyrell, and Tiamat. Known for their aerial combat prowess, they were veterans of many battles, feared for their devastating attacks from the sky. Despite the threat of being terminated by the Draconian Air Force, they felt no fear, believing that their gods would reincarnate them as holy warriors.
"In a few hours, we will fight for dominance in the sky—not only for money and pleasure but—" the leader paused, waiting for a response.
"For the gods!" they shouted in unison.
"Yes, for our gods! We fight to please them with our spoils. If we succeed, we will fight again as their holy warriors, their executioners, their sword and shield!" the leader proclaimed, his black and red armor shining in the campfire's light.
The riders responded with a thunderous roar and boarded their mounts. The war hawks screeched in elation.
---
**A Few Hours Later**
As the third phase of the battle began with the full capture of the forest, the 20th Draconian Bombing Group arrived on the scene with 150 multi-role fighter planes providing escort. Over 1,000 Novoros planes were also in the skies, including the P-92 Mustang, a propeller aircraft equipped with four MG-42s—two on the wings and two near the propeller. The planes had a flight time of 8
hours and could reach speeds of 180 km/h. They were heavily protected and prepared to target the Draconian front, the Cossack front, and finally, the Olympus front.
"Well, look at this view," a Draconian fighter pilot remarked, maintaining formation while observing the squadrons flying in a protective curtain. The Novoros fighter planes maintained their own formation, flying ahead and on the flanks.
Inside a bomber, a radarman spoke up, "Sir, I detect a large amount of hostile objects—numbering 50,000."
The commander grabbed the radio. "To all escort fighters, we've detected a large number of hostiles—50,000 strong. The bombers will climb in altitude while you intercept."
"Copy that. Escort squadron proceeding to intercept. We'll need more planes," responded the escort squadron commander, activating his weapons system.
"I'll contact command," the bomber commander said, settling back into his seat and buckling up as the pilots increased altitude, followed by the rest of the bombers.
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**Back to the Escort Squadron**
The entire formation was alerted to the incoming hostiles. They sped up, splitting into different units. Some climbed into the clouds, acting like vultures, while the Novoros pilots were ordered to hold the center. After a few last prayers, one of the Novoros pilots muttered, "Let the show begin."
Suddenly, arrows flew toward the planes, hitting the armor and plates.
"Evasive maneuvers!" a pilot shouted as his wingman twisted and turned, dodging the incoming barrage.
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*To be continued…*