***

--- NATO Headquarters, Legrath, Elies Region ---

Date: July 24, 2026

The light of the moon faded as the sun rose on the day the remnant imperial forces dreaded engagement with NATO on open fields once more. With the news of the treachery of Ticaret forces abandoning their post for personal glory, Senior Centurion Tullus Varro took command of what remained of the 24h Legion. Nearly twenty-five hundred souls rush to the Becwood Forest to save their allies from guaranteed death.

With little time to properly prepare a plan, it was decided speed was the key. Cavalry and war-carts were decided, moving in three formations to move quickly and not get bogged down in battle.

According to the map, they are about a dozen leagues away from the Becwood Forest.

Up ahead, Varro heard loud explosions, clearly coming from the forward squadron. The first group must have sprung a trap.

Now that Varro knew where the enemy was, it was his job to hold them here until his leader, Legatus Fabius Aulus, reached the Ticaret before it was too late.

While not knowing what the enemy makeup was, Varro formed a plan. The first squadron had flushed the enemy out, now he wanted his squadron to strike the enemy’s position. The third squadron farther right, would swing around, flank, and intervene after the enemy believed they engaged his full might.

As the squadron marched, they all could hear the sounds of battle. Bright lights and the loudest sounds of explosions pass the hill. The lights and sounds, a common trait in this war, once scared Varro but have grown used to such things. Judging by the sounds, the enemy probably used their medium-sized wagons.

The light wagons were easy to destroy. The enhanced javelins easily pierced through their armor. The medium types were more difficult, depending on the model. The gray box type the javelin and magic attacks were more effective while the strange bulky type required far more effort. The only thing he hoped was that there were no heavy wagons. The only chance against those was removing their eyes and damaging their track-wheel legs.

As the squadron rode up the hill, Varro looked toward the ballista wagon. The Empire attempted to counter the enemy’s light wagons, which had shown mixed results in previous battles(1).

Once on the hill, Varro saw the carnage below. Dozens of medium-size bulky wagons formed up as the cannons fired. Some of them have the enchanted javelin on the hull. Others, the hull was partly melted from some type of magical attack. Still, it seemed like none of the enemy attacks had done the damage needed.

Looking toward the others, Varro could see the fear in their eyes. Open battle had yet to result in a victory so they all know what the outcome will be. While the Ticaret Houses wanted to battle for glory and wealth, those desires had waned for many of the Imperial soldiers. Most just wanted to survive and maintain what was left of their honor, while others just wanted to leave the war and stay alive.

“Our comrades need our help!” Varro shouted as he turned around to face his men. He could see the fear drenched over them as they sat ready on their horses in formation. He could tell that they knew they were only here to die. His men did their best to hide their anguish but that feeling was just too overbearing. Varro knew he needed to do something to get them focused or this attempt would have been for nothing.

“Men!” Varro shouted once more, grabbing the attention of his present men. “I will not lie to you; the looks on your faces already tell me what you all already suspect. Many of us, most of us will fall in this battle. We are to provide cover so that our reckless allies within the Ticaret may survive. We will charge forward into enemy fire so that this alliance holds. Most of your lives, including my own, might end here.”

Varro kept his gaze on his men to gauge their resolve and he could see his words had nearly broken most of them. Fear was painted over their faces while some of the younger men nearly broke down in tears, fighting the urge to hide their weakness amongst their peers. Most knew that they’d never be able to return back to their loved ones any longer. They had held hope that this future was somewhat possible with Fabius’ careful tactics but now that was all out the window with the Ticaret’s arrogant attack.

“Men, steel yourselves!” Varro continued. “Though most of us will fall here, it will not be the end of us. For we, proud soldiers of the glorious Empire will be sung throughout many taverns in all of Falmart. When the citizens beg for help, those cries have and will always be answered by us willing to make that sacrifice. Be it bandits, thieves, monsters, or warlords, Elies will be protected over the watchful eye of the Empire. Our lives may end here, but our legend will live on forever because my men, the men of Elies, do not falter, my men do not kneel before any invader. My men rage, my men rise up to any challenger; my men will carry the will of the people of Elies!! Now, forward! For our home, for Elies! Men, charge!”

Varro raised his sword as far up as he could while moving forward into raining bullet fire while his men, now riled up, followed closely behind him. The men charged forward, fear still visible on their faces, moving only a few feet forward until they noticed some of their comrades suddenly drooping forward and keeling over onto the floor in front of them.

“For Elies!” The remaining men shouted as they were picked off one by one.

---

Marching through the forest, Fabius was impressed that they finally reached their destination fairly quickly. If the purpose was not so dire he might have been impressed by how short of time it took to reach here, to the point he wondered if it was a record.

All around Fabius were bodies that were torn apart by the enemy artillery. Trees shattered, laying waste on the ground. The makeshift dwarven fortification manholes were completely destroyed while mages tried to maintain barriers.

From what Fabius could see the enemy siege had been brutal.

After acquiring some survivors where Gagnog was, Fabius and his small force ventured forward. Unlike their last encounter where the Ticaret warriors looked at him with disgrace from their recent battle, now their eyes were thanking the gods he was here to save them.

With a nearby explosion, shrapnel bounced off the magical barrier that was protecting them. The Talas Knight was in front of Fabius, acting as his bodyguard just in case the spell failed. The Knight commented that he needed to stay in cover, that if he was hit, they were all dead.

Seeing the barrier flickering, Fabis looked toward the mage and said, "Stay focus and don't overdo it. Let your backup take over if you need to."

"I can handle this," the mage said. "I am just not used to sustaining this spell for this long but I will not fail you."

Pleased by his fellow soldier's resolve, Fabius guided them to their destination.

Seeing what was once the enemy outpost and inside Fabius saw the draconian. Moving past his guard, he exited the barrier, and he marched through the camp of soldiers.

Seeing Gagnog sitting behind a makeshift fortification with deep-seated fear in the dwarf’s eyes. Ignoring everyone as they inquired why Fabius was there, he marched directly toward the dwarf.

"Fabius… what are you doing-." Gagnog asked before being silenced.

Fabius, unable to control his rage, grabbed the dwarf and punched him, and yelled, "What did I say?! What did I say, you damn, glory-drunk dwarf!"

Gagnog covered himself and said, "I can explain."

Frustrated, Fabius grabbed the dwarf again and slammed his fist into the dwarf face again, breaking its nose. He then said, "I told all of you dogs not to fight! I ordered it. I warned you, I repeated it over and over!"

Grabbing Gagnog again, Fabius punched the dwarf multiple times. Once the anger subsided, he pointed toward Albon Dac Kalv and ordered, “Albon, gather what remains of your forces and move to the northwest. Saskax, gather four hundred men and have them be our rear guard. Prioritize the wounded to remain here over the ones who can escape by themselves.”

“Are you going to abandon the rear guard?” Gagnog pointed out as he stood up and wiped his bloodied nose.

Fabius quickly turned and pointed toward the Gagnog. He couldn’t believe that the dwarf would even challenge him at this point. He boldly said while stabbing his finger on Gagnog’s chest, “You killed everyone here the moment you marched them here! I am sacrificing over two thousand of my men just to buy us as much time as possible to escape. If you had any honor, you would stay behind with the rear guard! Try to atone for your mistakes as much as possible!”

Noticing everyone react to a nearby artillery shell and the sound of enemy rifle fire as the enemy encirclement began. Somehow the enemy figured out that he arrived so they went in for the kill.

Meanwhile, Fabius saw Gagnog just standing where he was, breathing irregularly instead of taking his men and rushing forward. His true character was finally revealed, being a coward.

Not hearing any protest from Saskax and Albon, everyone got to work. The gut feeling of knowing that he was throwing men at the enemy to buy as much time as possible sickened him. He wondered if this was the feeling his former leaders, Muilk and Krysist, felt. Knowing you had to sacrifice lives to save more later. The choices seemed easy when one watched from afar but once the burden was on your shoulders, each decision became much harder.

Albon approached and asked, “How do you know which direction to go?”

“I know these lands far better than you and the enemy,” Fabius replied.

“But, with our size, we will be slow,” Albon stated. “Many will fall behind or lead the enemy to us.”

“Then don’t be one of those stragglers, Albon,” Fabius replied. “There is a meadow a few leagues from here that we have to reach. Speed is a key, stopping to help will only result in your death. Be selfish right now Albon, I will need your help once this is done.”

---

Senior Centurion Tullus Varro watched as what remained of the first two squadrons struggled forward. The enemy ambush was vicious.

Looking below, Varro could tell that the enemy was maintaining a tight formation, preventing the squadrons from flanking. Standard tactic, using the front armor as protection. After a year of fighting, the enemy knew that magic was their biggest threat.

However, Varro knew their weakness too. From his time in the trenches during the opening assault in western Elies, it was discovered that these armored wagons were weak at their rear. A simple coordinated magical attack should be enough. The issue was getting close enough and having the time to exploit that weakness. The enemy was very efficient in their coordination, always making it near impossible to find that opportunity.

“See there,” Varro said as he pointed. “They are focused on our forces. The third squadron will arrive soon, we will need to flush them out.”

“That will not be easy,” Palvus said. “There will be sentries. They will see us before we can flank.”

“Agreed,” Varro replied. “Take your group and move along that path. Strafe their position with arrows, lightning, and firebolts. We will slip in and strike their rear. Hopefully, the third squadron will arrive once they are displaced. With a little luck, we can cause some damage.”

The two raised their fists before departing.

Quickly riding down the slope, Varro's group reached the staging point for their flank. The sounds of the enemy weapons were loud. Above, the sound of their strange hovering wagons moving past their position.

Looking to his men, Varro made sure they understood the plan. The archers aimed for any infantry while the mages and ballistas focused on the armored wagons. Calming everyone, they prepared themselves.

Suddenly, a large lightning strike backed by two inferno blasts at the enemy’s rear broke the silence. The sound of enemy machine guns returning fire against the other group stirred many into battle.

“That is it, now ride my brothers!” Varro yelled.

With a morale boosting cheer, the group charged forward.

The group pushed through the defenders, getting behind the enemy’s clunky armored-wagons. “Fire now!” Varro yelled.

The mages used a combination of fire and stone, and the ballistas fired against the enemy rear. One of the enemy wagons flared up in flames while another had smoke coming out of the hole in the back.

The desired effect happened as the rest broke their formation to adjust from the sudden rear attack. Thrilled, Varro ordered, “get out of here now!”

Enemy infantry and the turrets on top of the armored-wagons turned to face them. Seeing a path up the hill, Varro led his group. The enemy reacted quicker than he hoped, taking out a third of his force.

Seeing the approaching cliffside of the hill, Varro pointed toward the hill, he ordered, “mages, summon now. Abandon the ballistas, hurry!”

The two remaining mages pointed their staffs toward the hill cliffside. Two large stones were summoned out of the cliff. As commanded, the two charged forward against the Other Worlders. The enemy redirected their attention to the new threat.

What remained of the group rode up the hillside. Looking below, Varro watched as the summoned stone monster attacked the enemy. The projectile weapons proved ineffective against the stone body. One of the monsters attacked a recently arrived light-wagon, smashing the front end.

Feeling pleased, Varro heard one of his men pointed toward the enemy’s medium-wagons and commented that they were afraid to use them, fearing the explosive projectiles killing their comrades. While an additional benefit, Varro respected that hesitation. A lifelong Imperial soldier but quickly learned his political leaders would sacrifice them in a moment's notice. The enemy on the other hand clearly valued each other's life.

Then Varro wondered if the Other Worlders leadership would do the same to their soldiers. That the warrior spirit was a universal trait among all humans, regardless of what world they belong to.

“Look!”

Hearing another one of his men gave a warning, Varro looked and saw what he feared the most, a heavy armored-wagon. Not using its main cannon, it quickly rammed into one of the stone monsters, easily crushing it.

“We should fall back,” Varro ordered.

The group quickly rode down the other end of the hill, seeing what remained of the first and second squadron attacking the broken enemy line. Each side moving past each other like dancers at a theater. Not that each armored-wagon could not protect each other, each horseman was trying to damage the track-wheels or the rear. Over in the distance, a crater was formed under one of those machines, trapping it at an angle. However, its turret still lived on, showing the resilience of the enemy war machine.

In the distance, Varro noticed a cloud of cavalry charging toward their position.

Looking back, Varro noticed the other group arriving. To his horror, only a few of them remained. He said, “Good job my brothers. Now form up and prepare to charge. For the Empire, for Elies, for Fabius!”

With a cheer, they charged down the hill, aiming to flank the enemy on two sides. The feeling of momentum flowed through his and fellow soldiers' blood, knowing it would be their last battle in this war.

The moment shattered as on top of another hill, Varro noticed two bright flashes appeared before two explosions hit the third squadron. Then another two. Then another two. Based on the explosion and his experience, he could assume the blasts were coming from two heavy-wagons that were on the hilltop.

As they rode into the battle, two more explosions appeared, taking out a group of horsemen. To the right, coming out of the enemy camp, four heavy-wagons drove through everything. Back by more clunky medium-wagons. It was clear, the enemy's main force had arrived.

Approaching a group of his men, Varro pointed toward one of the heavy-wagons and ordered, “Trap it! Take three ballistas and-.” Behind the ground a large explosion, killing many.

Hearing a continuous bell sound, Varro held his ears. Looking around, the 3rd squadron was being torn apart by the ranged weapons, unable to join the rest. Then looking toward an enemy heavy-wagon, scarred by a magic attack but with no damage.

Pleased that the plan worked, Varro led his men into a trap, surrounded by trees and hills. What provided them cover was now becoming their tomb. At this point, their distraction for their respected leader was over.

Kicking the horse, Varros rode toward an enemy heavy-wagon. He stopped with some good distance. Lifting up his sword, he pointed it at the enemy, making sure he was spotted.

As the turret turned toward Varros, he tossed his sword to the ground and raised his hands. “It is over,” he said before addressing the rest of his men. “Men, throw down your weapons. We have done all we can. No need to throw your lives away.”

Varro’s fellow soldiers, noticing his surrender, began dropping their weapons. The enemy fire stopped and moments later, infantry started approaching.

There have been many stories of what it was like behind enemy lines. Some said it was a golden age while others said it was a nightmare. Varro couldn’t help but wonder what he would see now and which one was true.

---

Finally seeing the opening toward the valley, Fabius let out a distressful breath. Losing a third of the surviving Ticerat force. There were a dozen Wyvern’s waiting for them.

While not enough to transport everyone, it should be enough to get the leaders and some higher ranking officers out. For everyone else, Saskax agreed to lead them to the west, to an Imperial staging area in the Jaridor region. Fabius hoped the enemy would lose interest while they focused on their escape.

Once everyone loaded up on a wyvern, some forced to carry four, they took off, heading back north to Thaluilas. While these beasts were quick, the distance between here and their destination was still far.

“Legatus, we are exposed out here,” Albon said. “I don’t think your distraction will work this time.”

“No, it will not,” Fabius replied.

Looking east, Fabius saw some smoke from where he assumed the 24th Legion battled NATO.

"Is that where your army is at?" Albon asked.

Struggling to hear the elf, holding tightly behind Fabius as the Wyvern speeds closely above the treeline. While the pilots would prefer to ride close to the clouds to get to their destination quicker, they knew they would be easy targets for NATO aircrafts to shoot down if they flew high. Staying close to the treeline and using the terrain for cover was the only hope they had.

Fabius responded, “It was.”

Noticing a light coming from the forward Wyvern, Fabius investigated. Wishing he had communication devices like the enemy did, he was forced to rely on lights by mages. The forward mage staff was glowing red, meaning they spotted a threat.

As Fabius looked forward, a string of yellow lights zipped past him, taking out one of the Wyverns on the left. Looking behind, he saw three enemy flying wagons. If his intelligence served him right, he believed the enemy named them ‘helocopters’ .

The group started to evade as more strings of yellow lights came from the enemy. In return, the two mages returned fire. One human mage, fired a bolt of energy which exploded by the enemy’s aircraft while the other, a Draconian, summoned a large dragon shaped fireball and unleashed it against the enemy.

“That is not going to buy us a lot of time,” Albon commented.

Knowing the elf commander was correct, Fabius expected this exact engagement. The enemy was clever, every action was designed to flush him out for capture or for the kill. Accepting that, he planned accordingly.

Just like dragons, the enemy specialized in seeing body heat. Already knowing that they wouldn’t be able to flee forever, he ordered every remaining soldier and mage to burn everything down as quickly as possible. This would create a massive smokescreen that would cover their retreat. And if the enemy’s ‘helocopter’ remained in pursuit, then one last trick up Fabius' sleeve could save themselves.

“That is why we need to get to that smoke,” Fabius said. “All we have to do is survive until we get there. Get your rag ready.”

As the wyverns evaded as best as they could, a spray of a dozen unguided missiles bypassed most of them. One of the missiles hit one of the wyverns as another one fell from the bullets.

Noticing how quickly they were falling, Fabius waved toward the draconian mage, signaling to provide cover.

The draconian noticed his commander's signal and flexed its wings. He pushed off from the wyvern and flew directly toward the enemy’s ‘helocopters’. Summoning another fire dragon spell, the beast burst toward the enemy, impacting one of the ‘helocopters’, consuming and exploding the machine. In return, the others shredded the draconian with their weapons.

Pushing away from the emotion of watching the death of an honorable comrade’s sacrifice, Fabius could only hope that he had bought enough time for everyone else to reach the smoke.

“Two more of those things!” Albon yelled. “They are flanking us from the right!”

The news sunk hard, realizing he had to pull his last trick, he elbowed Albon and yelled, “Have the person anchor you down. I need you to fire one of your enchanted arrows toward us. As high and big as you can.”

Without hesitation, Albon fired an enchanted arrow forward. After some distance, the arrow exploded in a purple light.

As they approached the large consuming smoke storm from all the fire below, four dragon riders appeared from them. Bigger, stronger than wyvern but most important, the ability to breathe fire.

The four dragons zoom past them. Fabius turned and watched as the enemy machines focused on the new, bigger threat. Fire was sprayed from the mouths of the dragons as the ‘helocopters’ evaded.

“I cannot believe this,” Albon said. “You are amazing. I did not think the other two were taking the bait.”

“It is too late,” Fabius replied. “Everyone, cover your mouth.”

The wyverns entered the smoke storm.

Looking around, Fabius watched as the enemy’s unguided missiles passed them in mass. At the last moment someone attempted to kill any of them, firing blindly into the smoke. All he could do was assume the smokescreen worked as intended.

With the realization that they were no longer being followed, Fabius ordered everyone to land in a small clearing in the nearby forest, exiting the smoke storm. Fabius took one last look back, remembering all those lost souls that would not be coming back with them. He faced forward once more; from here, they would head to Thaluilas to deal with this treason.