1000AM NW Time - First Summer RIse - Thirteenth Day - 0789 - Miserabilis Region - Coalfell Village

Coltone jumps up from a bed, with sweat going down his face, he looks at his body and notices multiple bandages across his body, most notably his left arm.

“Well, look who’s finally awake!” Octavious says as he enters the room. Octavious grabs Coltone’s shoulder and pulls him into a hug.

“Ahk! You bloody bastard! My back!”

“Oh right, sorry,” Octavious says as he lets go of him.

“Geez, where in the hell am I…?”

“You’re in Coalfell Village. An old man found you unconscious with your horse by your side a few weeks ago, you’ve been sleeping here since then.”

“S-seriously? W-what about the city, I-I must go to the Royal Capital!” Coltone attempts to get out of the bed, but Octavius stops him.

“The King has already gathered a force of 20,000 to take back the city, so calm yourself.”

“W-were there no other survivors?”

“None that I know.”

“W-wait! I had papers on me, are they still around?!”

“Calm yourself man, and yes, I have your bloody papers.”

Octavius hands him a neat stack of paper tied with a leather cloth in a packet. “You know despite how damaged those papers already are they're much finer material than any linen fiber I’ve seen.”

Coltone opens the packet expecting something useful since he wasn’t able to read it when he first grabbed them. But what he finds instead is paper with a language he can’t understand. He skims through the paper, but each packet is filled with the same strange language.

“Uh, Octavius, do you have any idea what this language might be?”

“Nah sorry mate no clue. Plus, just wait till tomorrow, with a force of 20,000 I guarantee any sort of enemy that’s in the city will be easily kicked out.”

Coltone thinks for a moment, he knows the most about the enemies in the city, while he might not understand them, he has some sort of knowledge.

“I can tell you’re not gonna stand by, you’re gonna head to the capital, ain’t ya?”

“You’re damn right I am.”

Octavius simply grins and stands up. “Alright then you arrogant bastard, get off your ass and come on now!” Octavius throws some clothes at Coltone, and Coltone quickly puts them on. Octavius and Coltone walk outside the house they were in.

“Right, almost forgot to tell you, when you were found, your sword and shield weren’t with you, probably fell when you were running but I requested the blacksmith, Winton, to make you a short sword.

“Really, he can make a short sword in just a few weeks? Plus, short swords are too unreliable.”

“Oh, don’t worry about that, It’s not made of Bronze or Iron, It’s made of Magisteel.”

“Really? That magic enhancing steel, the one that can be enchanted with magic, right?”

“Damn right. Found some while exploring randomly, thought It might be useful so I kept it on me.”

As Octavius and Coltone walk down the dirt pathways of the village, Coltone couldn’t help but feel uneasy about the city. He pulls out the pendant he had taken from one of the bodies from the forest, the hammer and the sickle. He looked at the pendant, it had the same design he had seen on the strange moving metal box.

“They’re connected, definitely, but what about their forces and those weird weapons they were holding. Even if there’s only a few hundred and only a small handful of those moving metal boxes, will 20,000 soldiers be enough…”

A sudden smack to Colton’s head brought him back to reality. “You alright? You seem mad in thought looking at this hammer and sickle,” Octavius says.

“Y-yea, I just found this pendant off a body in a forest, it has the same pattern on a large moving metal box I saw in the city.”

“Damn, maybe you experienced some head trauma after all.”

“I’m being serious you fucking cheese wheel.”

“Jeez, I’m just fucking with ya, but what do you mean by moving metal boxes?”

“I’ll explain it later. Plus, aren’t we supposed to go to the blacksmith?”

“Right almost forgot.”

The pair walk down the dirt path and down to the smithy. A single man smashes his hammer on a piece of hot metal on an anvil outside the building. The man has a bulky build, wearing leather clothing, and wearing a pair of goggles.

“Warren, how are you doing today mate!” Octavius says as he slaps the man’s back. The sudden slap to his back nearly causes the piece of hot metal to fall onto the floor.

“You fat bastard! Can’t you bloody see that I’m fucking working here!”

“Oh sorry mate, but do you have any idea where old man Winton is?”

“He’s inside, and slap my back again, I'm shoving a hot iron rod up your ass.”

Octavius mockingly shakes his hand before walking inside with Coltone close behind him. Inside is a house constructed out of wood and cobble, similar to the outside. Octavius opens a door into an office, revealing an oddly buff old man sitting at a desk around his mid-60s and early 70s.

“Well, look who it is, this your friend here Octavius?” Winton says pointing at Coltone.

“Uh, yeah, he’s the one I requested you to make the short sword for.”

“Ah, well, you’re damn bloody lucky I made it for ya, and in such a short time too. I’m supposed to be god damned retired.”

Coltone steps up and shakes Winton’s hand. “Uh, well thank you for taking time out of your schedule for me sir, I don’t know how to repa-”

“Don’t bother, I did have some fun making this damn thing. But listen here, this is one of my finest works, if you break this thing, I break your spine…” Winston says as he tightens his grip on Coltone’s hand.

“Remember, this damn thing is made of Magisteel, one of the rarest ores out there in the world, don’t let anyone else know about this. You both got it?”

Octavius and Coltone nod. Winton stands up from his chair, and opens a wooden box on his desk, revealing the short sword in its sheath. Coltone pulls the sword out, revealing a black hilt sword with a red gem at the end of its handle.

“Alright then, get out! You two have already come here with what you needed!” Winton says as he pushes them out of the building and slams the door.

“Well, he was rather a nice fellow,” Coltone says.

“Uh, yeah, sure, let’s say that,” Octavius says.

1100AM NW Time - June 14 - 1969 - Miserabilis Region - Soviet Captured City

“Damn it all! Those bastards in the fucking party can all die!” Yakovich yells as he slams his fist on a desk. The Red Army just a few weeks ago had managed to capture the city, and Yakovich had requested the Kremlin permission to continue marching into other areas, but his request was denied. The main reason was lack of equipment, mainly things such as tanks, and aircraft. The entrance to enter this new world, the Foraminis, was too small to fit things like those, as such the very few tanks that they had, had to be quickly created, which often resulted in engine failure. As well the sudden findings of strange lizards in the sky resulted in the Red Army not being able to move a large army without any air support. While they did have anti air equipment, majority are turrets that have been set up on the city walls. The only equipment they did have was 5 IS-1, relics of the Second World War, and a few PT-76’s that were hastily built. Now, he’s forced to stay in the city for an extended period of two months.

As Yakovich contemplates the situation he’s in, a sudden knock on his door brings him back to attention.

“Uh, comrade Yakovich, trucks and troop transport have just arrived…” A man says as he enters the room.

This sudden report surprises him. “Wait, what?! How the hell did they manage to get rucks here in the first place?!”

“Uh, the paper here says that they’ve found a more, ‘Prestigious Location,’ which has allowed them to bring trucks here.”

“Does it have more detail about where and what this ‘Prestigious Location’ is?”

“No, it doesn’t Comrade Yakovich… it only says it was found a week ago.”

Yakovich tightens his fist but calms down, but the fact that secrets were being kept by him from the party angered him, but he can’t deny the new equipment, men, and supplies were something they needed, so he tosses aside his anger.

“Alright, so, now with new men, how many troops do we have now?” Yakovich asks the man.

“When we first came here we arrived with around 2,000 troops and only suffered 30 deaths taking the city, but now with the troop transports, we now have around 4,970 men.”

“What about things such as vehicles?”

“Approximately 8 T-64s, 10 Sukhoi su-15s, 10 Tupolev tu-28s, 6 Mil Mi-8s, and over 10 tons of supplies, such as food, rifles, fuel, and other such things.”

“What about the status of the airfield that we’ve, ‘asked,’ the populace of the city to build?”

“It finished just last night sir, the planes and helicopters should be arriving there just now on the back of trucks.”

1120AM NW Time - June 14 - 1969 - Miserabilis Region - Soviet Runway

A Sukhoi Su-15 goes down the runway and then flies up into the sky. The main reason for it flying is for reconnaissance, even though ground reconnaissance hasn't noticed anything strange, but it wouldn't be a surprise that forces would try to take back the city from the Soviets. The Sukhoi flies in the sky, around 10,000 meters in the sky, south of the city. As the pilot flies through the sky, he sees a strange formation on the ground and lowers in altitude.

“Command, I seem to have spotted something strange here, looks like a large line of… people… permission to get closer?”

“Da, do not engage unless fired on. Over.”

“Understood. Over.”

The pilot flies down, around 2,000 meters above, and only then realizes the true size of this line of people.

“Command! The line… there seem to be thousands! Possibly could be marching to take-,” Before the pilot could say anything, a sudden flash of light nearly hits his right-wing, but he manages to dodge.

“Command! I’ve just been fired upon by hostiles! Requesting permission to engage!”

“Da! You’ve been permitted!”

The pilot quickly flies to the front of the column of people and proceeds to fire his UPK-23-250 23 mm gun pods and fires upon them. Dirt rises into the air, as bodies fly into the air. He repeats that a few more times, before another flash of light hits him and strikes his right-wing, while not much damage, but it could be problematic if left alone.

“Command! I’ve taken damage to my right-wing, will be returning to base!”

-----

“What do you mean the first plane that we just sent out got damaged!” Yakovich yells at a man.

“T-the pilot says that he encountered a large column of men, approximately over 10,000, are approaching the city. They could be attempting to take back the city.”

“How long would it take them to get here?”

“Judging on how far out the pilot was from the base, and approximately how many are marching, just tomorrow afternoon, Comrade.”

“Did the pilot get and finer detail on them, like weapons or vehicles?”

He shakes his head. “The pilot was too focused on the numbers instead of those things, at least, that’s what he says.”

“Alright… get the tanks and helicopters ready tomorrow, and have the populace of the city and some of our men craft ditches and makeshift bunkers at the front of the city.”

“Understood, Comrade Yakovich.”

-----

“Is everyone alright!” A man yells as dead bodies are picked up. The group of 20,000 men didn’t expect a sudden attack by a strange wyvern, as such not many mages with the ability to attack wyverns were brought along. Bodies are picked up, with many missing parts of their bodies, either that be chunks of their flesh, arms legs, or their head. Blood splatters the surrounding area, painting the ground, and trees, many men themselves have been colored the deep red of blood.

A man rides upon a horse moving to the front to assess the situation. A man named Eutychios, a high-end noble who’s been instructed to leave the attack to take back the city. He’s in his mid 40’s, with long black hair, and a mustache that’s often told to be strange.

“S-sir, our forces were just attacked by a strange wyvern!” A footman says as he walks towards him. “It at least managed to kill a few hundred of us, including a dozen magihorses…”

“No matter, throw their bodies on the side, we shall not halt our marching.”

“B-but sir! S-shouldn’t we at least burn their bodies to bring their ashes back to their families?!”

“So, you’d rather abandon your country for such feeble things! We continue marching, or else!”

1230PM NW Time - June 14 - 1969 - Miserabilis Region - City Walls

The large group continues marching close to the city wall, preparing to take it back. Many of the men are still tired, as the only path quickest to the city has no large clearing to set up proper camps. As a result, many of the men didn’t sleep correctly. Eventually, the top of the city walls are soon spotted, and the take-back of the city soon begins.

“Shields! At front! The footmen will be behind you to charge forward, then the calvary shall follow you!” Eutychios says putting on his helmet.

Men in heavy armor holding large shields line up with the footmen gathering behind them. Eutychios walks closer to the walk with his captains close behind, he pulls a telescope from his pocket, and peers at the castle’s walls alongside his captains.

“Look at that, bunkers, and what seems to be… black rods poking out… perhaps magicians?” One Captain says.

“So, if there’s truly one magic-user per bunker they’ll still be overrun at best, they’ll have only a few thousand soldiers, while we have 20,000!” Another says.

“Yes, yes, now, I trust you have your divisions prepared, gentleman?” Eutychios asks.

They all nod, and Eutychios smirks. “Very well have the cavalry prepared, and begin the assault, we shall take back the city!

With the forces prepared, the charge begins. The Shields begin moving in towards the bunkers. Their shields are reinforced with anti-magic enhancement, meaning even the supposed magicians in the bunkers attack, their attacks wouldn’t do much against their shields. But, just as the Shields begin to get close, loud booms begin to emerge from the bunkers, as well as large streaks of light piercing through their shields. Immediately, the lines begin to break, as confused soldiers attempt to run away, or towards the bunkers in a desperate charge, only to be killed.

“W-what the fuck! W-what’s going on! And what is that noise!” A captain yells.

Suddenly, the Captain of the first squadron (responsible for the first wave of the assault), runs back to Eutychios and the others behind the line riding on a magihorse. But, before he can get close, his head explodes with blood, and his body falls onto the ground right in front of them.