image of continent in comment
---
"Captain Felmenn." Heduc shook his hand, "nice to meet you."
"As you too." Felmenn smiled.
They started walking down the busy pier, the sailors rumaging about their directed jobs. Carrying crates and whatnot. As the small pier had only room for two ships (as it varied in sizes, the Scharnhorst occupied the larger), with the Maguildafaulkner having just docked some thirty minutes ago with the latter smaller part; with only part of it's bow being able to sink inside the pier.
With his hands behind his back; Felmenn confidently took his steps on the sandy beach, awaiting for Heduc to start talking.
"By night…" Heduc started, "Germany should have already made negotiations with Handerbour-"
"That!" Felmenn cried out, "I had not one clue that German forces were being sent out to fight Handerbour, isn't it quite odd that the Lord chose to do that?"
"Oh, no, no captain, our troops are not fighting within their borders." He smirked mischieviously.
"Then what was…?"
"It was a decisive strike, I'm sure Jeane should have informed you of her theory as she had relayed to me by radio last night." They both stopped, looking at each other; Felmenn curious and intrigued. "I'm sure the navy was not properly informed, however the top brass were talking about it. The lord should have given the idea, and our Admiral; Adelheid, gave us the go-ahead. If bombarding that port would show total submission from such a weak enemy; then we'd take that compared to fighting."
"Innocent lives were lost, Heduc." Felmenn added to his comment, grimly.
Heduc stared at him, stern. He didn't say a word.
Felmenn sighed, "is the island secured? Are there any dwellers in-land?"
"No, there aren't any."
"Who built the pier then?"
"Betelions did it," Heduc scanned the port. "they gave us this island persay, even if no-one actually owns the islands;" -he turned to Felmenn- "the Maguildafaulkner will need to dock at this northern Handerbour port-"
"What do you mean?" He interjected.
"Germany's seized control of North Handerbour."
( * )
The Handerbour delagates stood pridefully, shoving back a little of the fear their hearts were beating fire with. At their western-most city, bordering Germany; they were being picked up by German trucks.
The gate of the city was so full of people, onlookers from almost every single city. It was a big event, everyone was furious over Germany's bombardment over their port city. And the delegates were the ones to resolve the issue.
"Son." A mayor among them said to the little boy, "I will be back," -he looked at the maid- "take care of him. Please."
"Yes, my lord." The maid bowed.
The other delegates were from other neighboring cities, the main government body was handling things in the north, but they were to handle things in the heart of Germany.
The five representatives wore their bestest clothes, they had fashioned themselves as formally as they could with a bit of German bling, like the watch, and their top-hats. Walking towards them, was a German major. "Good Afternoon, delegates." He bowed a little, "I am to be the one escorting you all to Germany. Please board the truck."
They stared at him, all with sharp glazes and frowns. Slowly, they all boarded; then with smiles, waved adieu to the city.
---
"What incites me, is that the Germans are here." Said one mayor.
"What do you mean by that?"
"See… With how things were going, we wouldn't have lasted another year." He retorted with a calm voice, "Lottidenty had been making havoc in the north and east, Betelion was going to wage war on us, and if things went on without Germany, Handerbour would have became a part of Kerfeliz."
They all groaned. "But now the Germans hate us."
"Not exactly hate I think."
"They attacked our port!" Yelled the mayor, his distressed face recalling the countless hour he spent fixing the damage done in by the Germans at the port (of which was still damaged).
The mayor looked at him, "their warships were headed, not to us, but to the North. They're chocked-up with Lottidenty as we had then. All the countries were… Distressed, to say the least, when this guy and his empire of death decided to commit his kingdom to name with his weapons of war. Not withstanding the Hesians and Betelions. They put pressure on the whole damned continent, and now our democracy is being ruined. The people want to become like the Germans. And that could only become true with a dictatorial-rule."
"You're getting sidetracked," said another chuckling. "You meant to tell us they want to occupy us to get more leverage during a war with the Northern Alliance. I could already see it coming," -he looked outside, glancing the peaceful green hills and the sun smiling down upon him- "I imagine this beautiful field. Covered with everything but the green peace it has now. A war covering the lands, a plague that wroughts everything. Every. Single. Country. Doomed to this war that Germany starts."
"Who started it?"
"Germany," he once again said.
"I for one say it'd be the Northern Alliance."
The mayor turned away from the window to look at him, intrigued as to what he'll say next. "Don't you see the hidden threats they've been hintin' at the German Alliance? Already forming friends with the Eastern countries, then copying Germany's weaponry to some kind of T."
The escort of trucks transitioned from the field into the green shade of the dark Tria forest. "We're nearly there," someone said, ominously.
They gulped, the noise of the engine burning out and chuging rhythmically was acting like a clock, and for each second that engine roared, their hearts dropped lower and lower. "Have any of you met the Germans before?" Asked someone, nervously.
"I have," the mayor looking out from the window before raised his hand. "They're straight to the point at most, serious at best, and at rare times do they crack a joke in the midst of a conversation. They're good in heart though."
"We'll take your word for it."
The truck ran under the rough of the forest, the manageable, yet bumpy dirt road. Through a makeshift road on a shallow creek, then more forest. By four hours, three cities, and seven bathrooms breaks; the mayors made it to the boundary of Venit Ille. At first, it had just been forest. But, when the wooden-drowned horizon of pine trees faded into the clearing, they saw finally the sky, and the iron-claddened fortress.
"Welcome to Venit Ille!" Shouted the driver from behind the wall of steel seperating the carriage.
The mayors scrambled to look outside;
Sudden gasps all round,
The place was so trafficked with cars, trucks, and tanks. Things they never even thought possible, in the air lingered this smoke, making it semi-unbearable to breathe. And the place itself was riddled with these funnel-buildings (hangars, as the mayors did not know what they were called) so many stone-colored buildings, of which were made of concrete. And then the marching soldiers! So many and so uniquely strong-looking!
It didn't help the fact that their guns, with those bayonets, looked so frightening, the mayors couldn't help but shudder by the thought of being shanked by a group of those soldiers. They sullened.
"This place is a military fortress." One couldn't help but utter the comment of.
"Agreed," his eyes glanced at every which interesting thing that caught his eye upon. "Their so-called guns, artillery, tanks, and whatnot; protect this place, they don't even need a barrier, a wall unlike us. They've made, practically, an invisible line of defense, that, even with all the power of Handerbour, Lottidenty, heck even Hesia! They wouldn't be able to siege this place."
One groaned, "let's hope we can settle for peace?" -He reached for his water- "if the Germans want the northern portion of Handerbour, we'll give it to them for the war, but we will immidiately request it back after said war."
"You're so dead-set that there'll even be a war." One retorted.
"And you're still stuck in the past, mayor."
The tension inside the truck strengthened, if not from the Germans, so too did themselves.
"What I mean is, it's inevitable, and peace isn't always a ready-to-go option." He sighed, "and how Germany's acting, it's not so out of mind to say that Germany will go to war with the Northern Alliance."
The truck went dark in silence.
A couple of minutes later, the truck had finally stopped. The area where it had parked was a little less crowded, having less of the talk and banter of vehicles and marching sounds. Unsure of what to do, they sat still, awaiting a German to come by. When, this group of soldiers escorted them down the truck.
"Good Afternoon," this bulk of muscle came to greet them; his clothing was different. They've seen the Venit-Ille blacks and their jet-black selfs, and the Ridge-Brown soldiers and their khaki-brown look.
Red lapels, an overly decorated hat, ornaments, and so many medals neatly packed on his chest. And his gold-insignia… "Oh, General-sir, we are greatful to have you meet us for this fine occasion." They all bowed, nervously.
"As I thank you." They flew their bodies upright, "however, I won't call it fine. You have your protests as we wish to accuire ourselves our own wants. I'm afraid our headquarters are full at the moment, so we'll make do outside."
"O-outside!?" The delegates were shocked, having such a confidential-esque meeting happening outside!? That was some insane stuff the general had just spat. "General-sir, as our meeting pertains to the good of Handerbour and relations to Germany, I believe it would be quite respectable to have it inside, away from… The noise…"
"Ah, noise!" The general cried, "I had forgotten about noise. But belay that for now, we'll walk our way to the location I've planned our meeting at; albeit, outside. And, I have yet to introduce myself have I? Stupid of me, it's been a long time since I've needed to do that."
The mayors observed and awaited in silence.
"I am General-of-the-Army; Naturvege Ille. I command all sectors of the Army."
They gulped, their faces grim.
"Let us go." He joyfully began to walk towards a path, the mayors soon followed.
---
It was a way-side location. A garden, per-say, it was at a spot along the river, some ways off the hustle and bustle of Venit-Ille's military base. And yet, even if the birds twit here and there, and the butterflies landed from thence and thence-on, the power, this raw-strength still exuded off of Naturvege. They couldn't stay calm.
Offered some metal-made chairs, they sat.
The whole meeting area was rather informal. Yet maybe that was a trick, one of the delegates thought-up. To get them to soften-up, the General picked out this place to numb their sense of oppression somewhat. It was just a little too peaceful a meeting spot for it not to have any other meaning than just a beautiful place to talk in.
"We know your reasoning." The delagates said, "the northern-half of Handerbour, right? For the remainder of a war you'll declaring with the NA?"
The general laughed! "Good! How did you know that!?"
"Becau-"
"Don't answer." His face turned stern, the delegates lowered their heads in fear. "But yes, we want the northern half of Handerbour. Maybe even the whole of Handerbour," -the delegates' eyes freaked- "for war, and for economics."
"You want to hamper our fight for the Gale islands?" Added a delegate, his eyes sharp with a pang of hate.
"You were never involved to begin with."
There was a silent scoff amongst them.
"I'm sure the Handerbour people love the government, and their want to claim 'some' part of the Gale islands." Naturvege leaned back on his chair; "we know what happens when countries overestimate their capability to fight. And you know you don't want this, so do 'not' provoke me. We will accept a deal; three years occupation of the North, in exchange you get… Nothing."
"N-nothing, general-sir?" The man was dumbfounded, so was every single delegate.
He nonchalantly nodded, "nothing. W-well… There is something. We don't go to war with you, simple as that. You can leave without waging war, or… The other way around, without us waging war on you. You'll get some benefit, after three years. But that's all." He rested his hands on his thighs.
They couldn't comment. It was a mix of anger, amusement, and dumbfoundedness. As the sparrow bird landed on that stone-barrier, the retainer of the wall of the canal-likedness of the river beside them; a delegate had thought of something.
"General-sir," he caught his eyes. "I understand the want of land. To transport materials for a war. Supply lines are one of the major backbones of the war, if a supply line is cut, then everything else will break down. Like a jigsaw puzzle without it's last piece. The puzzle wouldn't be complete."
Naturvege, intrigued, leaned in, putting his elbows on his thighs and clasping his hands together; intently looking at the delegate. "Continue."
"Since you, general-sir, would not also want to be managing cities, the local laws and whatnots… What if we gave you all of Handerbour?"
"What stupidty dare utter from your mouth!" Another delegate stood in furious triumph; his mouth foamed, and his eyes shot with anger!
"I've heard enough." Naturvege stood, "shoot everyone except him!"
"What!?" Before he could register and complain, the brief rage that was instilled within him as all of his other companions were gone. Their bodies, hitting the floor under the beat of the wind. The gunshots, seemingly blending-in with the rest of Venit-ille; the delegates were practically forgotten by man. The sparrow flew away.
Naturvege got out from his inner-pocket a towel; rubbing off the blood on his face. He looked at the nearby treeline, gesturing a comeupence, "Please, clean that up."
A few soldiers came out from under the clearing of the nearby group of trees. "Yes, sir!" They ran to the scene.
"So…" Naturvege looked at him, the only delegate to have survived. "I'm aware of the fact that you… Not only don't like how your Government does the governing, but that you wish to become something like Germany."
"H-how did you?" Covered in blood and still stuttering from the loud bangs.
"I knew because Germany's knowledge is absolute, we desire to know and understand everything. That is what the lord wishes, instills within us."
"That doesn't explain my question."
"Oh, but it does." Naturvege packed the towel up neatly, and put it on the grass ground. "You will forget everything from here, but you will lead your country to success in the near future. Lottidenty will invade Handerbour, and you will become the people's martyr."
"W-what!?" He stood up in shock, "don't you mean to make supply lines to the Gale Islands? Wasn't that the whole intention why you wanted North Handerbour in the first place!?"
"Yes, supply lines, we will build those as well." Naturvege looked up at blue skies, "but getting control of the Gale Islands aren't the only things on our list, "he quickly dropped back down his head and began to walk back to Venit-Ille.
"Wait! General-sir!" Cried the man, "what do I do now!? What do you mean by your statement! What… What does it mean!"
"I'm afraid that's for you to find out, sir!" Naturvege disappeared under the wooden clearing.
( * )
It was Adelheid's third commanded ship. From the K-3 for Krimvald, then it was the Leberect in the war for Hesia, then… "It is now the Yamato." He stood proudly, nigh-right at the edge of the cliff outlooking the majestic behemoth. He had seen the Scharnhorst in the very same dock, but to see an even bigger ship than Scharnhorst… It was impossibly inconceivable.
"The Yamato is now yours to command." Hierd came out from the shadows of the woods, "you'll be able to get it running after your crew of two-thousand men-"
Adelheid chuckled, turning around, "two thousand men… I-I never would have thought I would even be here now, but…" -He glanced at the Yamato once more- "it's amazing."
"Yes." Hierd smiled, "and you're going to be heading towards the Gale Islands, which takes… two weeks? One week? I don't know, I'm not naval-man."
"One week, lord."
"Yes, one week;" -he put his hands on his pockets- "since your crew is already pretty experienced, I doubt there'll be any problems with the training, which will occur under the duration of your travel to the Gale Islands. Once you're there… Well… The world'll be engulfed in war."
Adelheid's face turned serious, he sighed exhausted. "Then I and the Scharnhorst will be coos in war, and by the massive amount of force we'll have at the Gale Sea, then it means that the Northern Alliance has quite a few ships?"
"Yes, and they're pretty advanced already in that regard. Having mounted turrets, steam engines, and all the ilk. But that doesn't matter, we'll evolve better than them. Besides, who'll win? A nation who's technology is already great, or one that's already developing?" Hierd's face was smug, but Adelheid begged to differ.
"They have better magical prowess." He broke in, "Jamie, our Unchean's Lead Scientist, was part of the Lottidenty branch of the Magic Divisi-"
"Ah, that;" in interupted, "I'd recently just skimmed through the lines of paperwork that flowed in from the MP, and that was one of the more recent shockers, you dug into it?"
"Yes, lord." He smiled a little wrly, "she's broken off from it, she said."
"And you believe her?"
"She's testified that fact, and I doubt we'll have any problems if she does decide and rebel against us, since I've gone to Pomlik to make me a Gem of Tracking."
"Gem of Tracking…" Hierd smiled, "that's unique. I have to go, Adelheid."
"Goodbye, Lord."
"Ah wait!" Hierd stopped and turned around, "I had forgotten to mention that there will be Betelionic and Hesian admirals inside, alright bye."
---
All the preparations were set, the Yamato was ready to now undock. It was so weird to the sailors, to Adelheid. The ship was so large, the beam more so. Atago's was the biggest all of those sailors got to be on before, but now? It was thirty-eight or so meters, they could fit a whole Unchean city block on it. And, not to mention, the turrets were big! Looking down from the skyscraper-tall bridge, it's officers looked down on the deck. It was… Scary, but momentous.
"She got on her the same specs as does the Atago!" Yelled one, "a bit in height and in equipment!"
There were some in the crowd who had already been in-crew with Captain Jack, making everything different with the German Ship sailors (the ones who had came from the Leberect and the K-3s) become more familiarized. The two sides got together and soon the Yamato's singular big funnel started to erupt smoke.
Everyone was ecstatic!
From the hundreds of AA-guns and cannons, from the main turrets to it's rangefinders; from the boilers to it's many rooms. "We set sail to the Gale Islands! Please the lord of Germany, destroy that which is our enemy! And plunder for all that the sea hinders our path! Remember, sailors, comrades; we are the largest, the biggest, and the best warship of them all!"
The Yamato sped off from the shore, it's main guns trained to-bow, the heavy waves off of Harsh Sea, although seemingly behemoth, were but nothing in the face of the true behemoth of the seas.
Twenty-knots,
"Twenty-seven point four knots!" Yelled Adelheid, "she's one slow ship!"
"Aye, admiral!" Cried one of the officers, "so used to the speed of the Leberect!"
Adelheid laughed, "Yes, yes indeed!"
The Yamato bounced up and down gently above the waves. While her sailors tended her from bow to stern. At the stern, the sailors were busying themselves with figuring out what the mechanism at the back was. In the manual; it was called a… "Steam Catapult Launcher?" They looked at themselves confused, since it was obviously not a cannon. "What could our lord have not shown us yet? This steam catapult…"
"Maybe it's for a dragoon?"
"Are you insane!?" The sailor added jokingly, "but maybe dragoons on a ship wouldn't be so bad? They'd… Hey wait that's a great idea actually. Just not the launcing part."
There were not really a lot of things to do in the Yamato except tending to her machinery. At mid-day; Adelheid had them all rest in preparation for night. They had their lunch in the ship's mess-halls. There wasn't a need for classes in the Yamato; so all mess-halls were used regardless of rank.
The galley (the kitchen per ship terms) prepared bountiful, savoury foods. As well as ice-cooled water with thanks to the magicians on board. Then, when they were done eating; they had the chance to explore the ship's areas. From bow to stern, and from lowest deck to highest. Just that they couldn't willy-nilly go to that or thence place.
The turrets were a popular place to stay at, it was one of the biggest turrets they've ever seen. And some of Atago's crew there could recognize the secondary armament being of the Atago's ones.
Adelheid set his command to the officers, there wasn't really anything to do as the destination was already set; and his many officers were surveying the sea, the direction, and the coordinates at machine-like speed.
He remembered, Hierd had said something regarding admirals from Hesia and Betelion. When then, in such coincidence; "Sir, Admirals from Hesia and Betelion are here to meet you, should I put them in your quarters, admiral-sir?"
Adelheid turned around and looked at the officer, "yes, thank you." As the officer left the bridge; he groaned.
---
"The chancellor of Germany called us to board the vessel; to hopefully resolve a dispute." The Betelionic admiral started, "is this about our little race of warships?"
"Yes, it is." Adelheid pulled himself closer, grabbing then sipping the cup of tea, it turned lukewarm. "I personally have not been fond of you two's actions. Even if it meant that your technologies have increased as a result. I'm led to believe Betelion's making a battleship in response to what Hesia had created?"
"Yes, we are." The admiral said, his tone quite serious.
Adelheid was quickly skimming through his more recent memories, his time reading th newspapers, and the own casual conversations he's had regarding the naval race. "But this creates too much tension for the betterment of our tri-alliance. We created the Yamato to underhand that."
"That helps how, admiral?" The Hesian leaned in with a furious brow, "in all actuality, wouldn't that just boost our motivation to create something better?"
"By that you cannot ever make anything better." Adelheid laid the cup down on the coaster. "The Yamato, it's Germany's most powerful warship. It's the cap to a bottle, and it will act as a barrier wherein it's contents may not spill out. You two will never create a Yamato."
"So you ask us to not create ships?" The Betelion admiral interjected, intrigued by Adelheid's wording.
"You can create ships, but not for the purpose of aggression." Adelheid sighed, dipping the bread into a batter of butter. "You can build warships to attack those outside our alliance, that you could do, but not to create warships to instill agression between the both of you."
"Even without that intent in mind, we'd still be 'agressively' making better-and-better warships to compete with eachother, just that, it's in a different name."
"So co-exist." Adelheid took a bite of the bread.
Cool air seeped into the captain's quarters, the harsh summer light creating contrast with the dark-ish indoors. The ambient; a nice rhythm of engine, and the crashing of waves on Yamato's hull. The two admirals sat motionless for a time.
"Elaborate on that." Betelion tried.
"Build warships for the purpose of partnership." He grinned, "see, if two countries threw their engineers in one place, amazing things happen. You could divide the funds to make it a bit less expensive for the both of you. And, if you do try to enact it… We guarantee that we would chip in our own funds and help."
The two of them looked at each other, their eyes easing.
"We will think about that." The Hesian admiral clasped his hands together, looking at Adelheid. "But, I would also want to know about something."
"What may that be?" Adelheid stiffened his face.
"In the case of war, what will Germany do?"
( * )
Germany had constructed many forts in many major Betelionic shores in the lead-up to the Scharnhorst landing, primarily, those shores were being maintained by Betelionic soldiers in-training. The day after Scharnhorst's landing; a radio blasted the radio waves. And, in horror, Hierd's heart dropped.
"012-012, this is Fort-012! We are being bombarded by warships! Country indentifiable; possibly Lottidenty. There's four-hundred of them here! We need bac-"
The radio transmission had ended.
Felmenn was there when the transmission was directed to the Scharnhorst. On that moment, the bridge fell silent. Everyone had listened so intently, now their hearts were lying on their feet. Felmenn turned to look at his officers; "we won't wait for HQ, I need one of the Deutschlands guarding this island, while us and the other deustchland travel north-ward."
"You wish to face this, captain?"
"Their technology should not be advanced enough to rival ours, I doubt they could even pierce our metals. But, only the future knows the answers, we do not."
"Aye," the quartermaster added. "Relay it to the radio-room!"
As the sound of the heavy iron door closed, Felmenn and the rest of his officers were already tracking navigation; "Full steam!" The speed-wheel was cocked all the way up and slowly but surely, the Scharnhorst left it's dock. The Deustchland soon following with raging speed.
The sky was gray, too gray to see a clear horizon. There was this light sparkle of rain, pitting the windows of the Scharnhorst, then the waves began to pick up. Felmenn, looking ahead, gulped. The sky was to darken, a storm was brewing in the distance.
"Where is fort O-twelve?" Questioned Felmenn.
"It should be somewhere in North Betelion," answered the quartermaster, "they were built to protect major cities, and if that fort represented the twelveth city upwards, then it should be…" He looked at the map sprawled on the small table ledge, "this!"
"The port city of Gresh." Felmenn looked at it, the land, and it's proximity with Kerfeliz. "Too close, that city's gone if the NA's bombarded it, or has sieged it by army. How's our action? Has HQ relayed info bout' our army's movement?"
"Not a thing, captain." He said, "but the 'secondary A-detached regiment;' Venit-Ille black soldiers that were already stationed in Betelion, should be making their way northward, and Apple should have already deployed his army."
"The Betelions have tanks right?" Felmenn questioned.
The quartermaster nodded.
"Then lets hope that this war's a quick one."
Felmenn felt dizzy, he couldn't tell if it was because of the ship, but he was practically born in the sea, how would it be that he'd be dizzied by that? No, it was something else. He just couldn't understand what it was.
"Find the coordinates to this Gresh city, we're making our way there."
"Aye, captain!" A salute.
( * )
It was plastered all over the billboards of Port Geo and Unchean, the people had been oblivious of the invasion for three hours. Only when the Betelions discovered that a massive army was invading their northern borders did things start to pick up.
It read;
"To my people. To Germany's lifeblood, I regret to inform you that the Northern Alliance has waged war on the Alliance. In assistance with the Hesians, Betelions; we are now sending our best troops; our best weaponry, and our best minds. To no further end will Unchean be damaged in this war; this I guarantee. The Northern Alliance will not touch Germany's wall as it had unfortunately caressed Betelion's borders.
But, will 'you' turn a blind eye to it? No! My people; from the simple gardener to the noble spirit of a craftsman! Join Germany's army! Join the high-seas to the lands! Will you turn down the call of the nation? Or will you stand to take fight, to battle the ones who dare disturb our peace! My people, fight! Fight for your family, fight for me, fight for Germany!"
---
Some five hours after the intial invasion of Gresh; Hierd's personal army were already making their way north to safeguard a position within Kerfeliz. It was a combined company, with five tanks, four cats and one Maus.
"We're near." Friedrick appeared from the shadows, "we last tracked the Kerfeliz; a signal from Fort O-eleven told us it'd be somewhere by this plain, on that," -he pointed- "road. Keep track, Matthaus."
"Yes, sir."
Friedrick had adorned many medals since his fight in Hesia. He retired a little to rest in the south after the war, but moved in Betelion after being assigned to Hierd's Personal Army. It was the most prestigeous award, rank, that Germany would hold somebody in. And the army itself had already grown to a thousand since Unchean's inception as Germany's capital.
He was… Exhausted, to say the least. But he was experienced; making him most valuable.
His company was hiding under a growth of trees right at the verge of a large plain. From the horizon, one can see the fire and smoke leaking out of the port city of Gresh, it had been sieged; and if time served right, the Kerfeliz should be appearing at any minute.
He silently treaded under the darkness of the forest, his soldiers, dressed in the all-black Venit-Ille dress, were building his war tent, avoiding to use torches and flashlights, relying instead on the veil of the moonlight.
Seeing a lieutenant, he went to him; "have your platoon move a kilometer east. Try to flank the Kerfeliz to the side if we do engage with them by this road, keep the communication open and be prepared to retreat."
"Yes, sir." With a quick gesture, his group of soldiers were already moving; part of the lieutenant's platoon was a panther, some soldiers hopped on the iron top of the panther to conserve energy, sadly, the rest walked.
"HQ gave the command that we should be securing a spot inside of Kerfeliz to later then become a command chain. But that's too risky without knowing the scale of how dangerous these guys are. I should first encounter these hooligans at Gersh, then take a side-track east to catch them when they least expect me at some other city. I should be able to rest my soldiers at a small city outpost."
"Sir!" The soldier cried, Friedrick turned around.
"The Kerfeliz are here!"
It was followed by a big shock! That was not from a German tank. No, that was too chaotic a noise, it sounded like a cannon, but much less denser sounding… Friedrick ran for Mattahaus, when, under the dense thicket of trees, his eyes widened in shock.
"Shit!" Matthaus yelled, "they have tanks!"
"Machine gunners, fire!" Friedrick yelled, gesturing for his platoons to fire and move inward; his formation of soldiers soon began to take a line shape, while his tanks at the very back of the line were making their way forward; firing into the sky with drastic elevations, acting as artiliery.
"We have a field of seven-hundred meters!" Called one of the lieutenants, "ready the mortars!"
Under pressure and hastily deploying, the Kerfeliz were fighting back. Not only did they have primative versions of tanks, but they had also guns. They fired much like the Kar98k, from afar they weren't that accurate, but Friedrick wasn't going to afford a death.
"Grab a shovel and begin digging!" he ran to an open truck-back, "get the sandbacks and stack the inside with dirt! Anything just to not get hit, men!"
"Yes, sir!"
His soldiers were moving confidently yet carefully under the thicket of the woods, the occasional bullet hole hitting a tree and nearly hitting someone's head.
Friedrick made his way to the front of his forest formation; the loud sounds and cries from the Kerfelizians getting audible step by step. He proned down next to Matthaus, "what do you see?" Friedrick immidiately got out the binoculars hanging on his neck.
"Two tanks, and a whole lotta gun-weavin freaks." Matthaus commented, shooting at two soldiers in the span of a second, reloading the next second after.
The Kerfeliz were making great travel, but their movement was being restrained by Friedrick's soldiers' machine gun firing. As the plain wasn't entirely flat, the Kerfeliz were able to hide behind little bumps and hills; there was this one bump in the land that a majority of them were at; luckily, with one calculated mortar hit, the formation of soldiers there had broken.
Friedrick made notice with the two tanks. It was rough-looking and colored brightly with this bronze-looking yellow. It looked something like Betelion's tanks. But much more primative. The chasis itself was blocky and lacked a slope, but comically, there was one large-calibre barrel attached on the slowly-rotating turret. And it did not use conventional tracks, neither did it seem to use gasoline.
With how it slowly glided off the ground, and how slow it's movement was, it could only have been made using magic. The tank's barrel alarmingly began to rise. His machine guns have hit the tank many countless of times, but it seems the armor was thick enough to withstand the fifty-calibre rounds. Even Matthaus' PTRS-41 was unable to penetrate the armor. But even if, there were some holes. And the weaker part was especially the back part of the hull, deforming quicker with Matthaus' shooting.
"Charge!" Friedrick overheard in shock, a charge was simply so stupid in that situation, he looked around, when…
This large sillhouete jumped from the corner of his eye, it's tracks seemingly floating in the air as the Maus landed; seemingly making a crater in it's every movement.
The Kerfeliz were gently retreating backward to Gresh. It didn't help that the side-flank that Friedrick had laid out in advance had rushed out from their hiding spot and already assaulting them from the east.
Their formation was growing thin, and less and less bullets were firing. With the Maus being able to get nearer and nearer to the Kerfelizian tank; it got easier and easier to range-find it.
Kerplunk!
An armor-piercing shell.
Their barrels were eye-to-eye yet so far apart. The Kerfelizian tank was slowly retreating, but it wouldn't be able to retreat fast enough with how much more faster the Maus was in comparison.
It fired!
"Shit! Fire now!" The tank commander closed the cupola, whilst the driver quickly served the tank left-wards.
The Maus was hit!
It hadn't penetrated, but the thick walls of the Maus' interior got a whole lot bumpy. "It fragmented," commented in relief of the assistant gunner.
BOOM!
In retaliation, the Maus fired it's barrel. And like a home-seeking missle; it found it's target.
A magnificent blast! The Kerfelizian tank wasn't able to take the armor-piercing bullet; but the way it exploded was abnormal. "That wasn't an HE round right?" Radioed in Friedrick, observing the fight from his position.
"No that was not, sir!" Replied the radio-man.
"Alright thank!" Friedrick hang the radio call.
"What you think?" Matthaus looked at him, interested in his opinion. "Couldn't have blown up if it wasn't powered by steam or oil."
"No, it couldn't have." Friedrick stood up, as the bullets from the Kerfeliz died down as they began to retreat towards Gresh. "Not unless they were using some sort of magical catalyst, as I suspect they have been doing to move the things."
Matthaus groaned, "magic is a strange thing."
Friedrick turned around, his Lieutenants already gathering their soldiers to. He called out to them; "we surround Gresh; bombard it from afar with our tanks, just like the capital."
"Yes, sir."
As Friedrick's lieutenants ran back to their platoons, a soldier called out; "sir Friedrick! Someone's calling for you!" He ran to the radio operator hanging out in the war-tent. Grabbing the telephone from the soldier's hand.
"Friedrick, this is Heduc."
"Nice to talk to you again." Friedrick grinned a little.
"Y-yes," Heduc chuckled a little. "The SS Maguildafaulker'll come to Gresh, we need the port city done-clean before then."
"Right-on." Friedrick tossed the telephone to the soldier, hopping on a truck, clinging to it by the metal chassis that traveled around the back-carriage. "Men! Make way to your platoons! I want a position for the mortars near that city! We're retaking it, boys!"
"Yes, sir!" Replied in jovial chuckles, his soldier saluting as Friedrick flew past them still clinging on his truck. He was smiling, even if the night sky approached and darkened, even if the sky was uncertain, that west-ward: a stormy typhoon and the east so much so calm. He felt triumphant, even if it were just starting. He felt, like Hierd had felt so many years ago. That he too could rule the world.
With the Yamato heading North, all of the Tri-Alliance deployed. Each and every tank running the roads, soldiers running to that truck then this car. The whole of the Latessian continent was in a flux. With only one singular thought sprinting across their minds…
"In this game of agression, who will win? And what is that future like?"
( * )
The creeking of the wooden decks, the sea so rough that every and each place of the ship was so full of water. The sailors; tirelessly working the mechanics, watching the midnight horizon with the sharpest eyes and the most measly spyglasses.
The storm that raged Gale sea affected both sides, obviously. And the Kerfelizians didn't want to travel farther into it. "Cap!" Yelled the coxswain, "we can't bound furder! The sea's gonna swallow us whole I say!"
"She'll run!" The captain, so drenched in seawater and in sweat, veered the vessel right. "Train your eyes men! Train dem' eyes! Since soon we see the Germans sooner we get the first hit! And that gud' for somethin' hit'll spell us victory!"
The Jallasee, one of the frigates of the Kerfelizian navy. Even before Germany, Kerfeliz had a abnormally great amount of naval warships, mostly sloops and frigates rather than cruisers and galleons. By the recent advent of steel, machinery unlike any before, and so much technology. They had retrofit many of their wooden vessels into steel warships. Removing the rows of cannons, and instead opting for one turret; two barrels with thick diameters.
Like many, the frigate had one funnel, still running sails, and were kindly fast. It hadn't the same speed as do the German, Hesian, Betelion ship, but it was a ship that could make a difference in a game wherein your enemy is Waterloo and you're Napoleon.
The shipped bobbed up and down, rolled this way and that way; the sailors were accustomed to it, but never before at this magnitude. Beyond this seer of waves, thunderous clouds, and dark sky; a few hundred warships (of Kerfeliz's singular frigate-steelclad armada) were making their way Southside to the southern-most point of the Gale Islands (where the Germans have occupied).
The captain didn't have any hopes of winning the war, neither this battle they were to face, but he hoped only that his family be safe; even if he needed to answer the creed of duty.
"fifty east, starboard; light!" The quartermaster pointed out, soon the whole crew were eyeing up the sudden light with their spectacles. It had, like a flare, went and gone. But that couldn't have been their ship since it was south, no ship was down south yet.
"Glare in your eyeglass?" Laughed the captain.
"Maybe," he cleaned glass-tip of the spyglass, only for it to be covered with water droplets once more, he looked once more, where he had seen the spark of light. "Nothing… There's noth-"
---
"What happened!" The admiral of the Kolinda yelled, the burling ship, the converted galleon (Kolinda). So fueled with fire, smoke as dark as the night surrouding, the admiral looked in horror.
"The Jallasee has fallen!"
Immidiately he sent orders to the spotlight men, coordinating them a message. Sprinting to the upper decks, he rushed to his command and ushered the sailors for the engine's full power. "Load the turrets! Aim 30 south!" -He glanced behind him- "find the elevation!"
"Yes, admiral-sir!"
In the middle of the thunder of the sea, as if the whole thing were a whirlpool, it's middle the gaping-wide hole of Hell; everything had spiraled so down-hill. The admiral whisked his ship to it's side for it's two turrets sitting midship to be able to fire simultainously.
There was a count of un-ease. The Jallasee wasn't even visible from the view of the Kolinda, so how did the Germans manage to spot and shoot at it!
The spotfinders weren't able to locate where it happened, frankly, they couldn't calculate anything with the rage of the big-blue sea hampering everything and anything percise. "Just shoot!" The admiral ordered.
With her twenty-five centimeter barrels, she aimed high up and scaled big. The area wherein the enemy's ship could be in was too large, missing once will spell death, and the admiral knew this. But he knew that the other frigates behind him, of the hundreds; that if Kolinda were to sink; it'd be because of the flash-fire of the German turrets. Meaning, they'd be able to locate, "And fire!"
Hearts racing, the first shots hadn't hit anything. Splashes, distant splashes, and just stupid strays.
They were dead.
Going ablaze; the Kolinda signed her last goodbye.
An approaching sillhouete.
Crashing.
Crashing.
Heading straight for the Kolinda in the most swift, harsh fashion.
The Yamato opens it's floodlights.
...
Hello, that was the end of Volume 2. I don't know whether there will be a volume three, but there still will be chapters being posted here. Either that or I'll be remastering older chapters of mine. The next few chapters that'll be in Volume two are special chapters, or chapters wherein I decide to put drawings of key moments of Vol 2 like I've done in the past with the Atago.
I hope you liked Vol 2 and Vol 1. This will probably be the end of Auferstan at the moment.
-Author