Summoning America

Author’s Note: I hope everyone had a good Memorial Day Weekend. Recently, there has been some misinformation being spread around about my story. If you’ve heard of any “leaks” or “rumors”, do know that I release no such information pertaining to future plot. If you are unsure of what’s canon, please ask me. If it’s not directly in the story or directly from me, then it is NOT canon/official. 

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Exteris, Sonal Kingdom

The ground trembled as if a great earthquake had struck, but there was nothing natural about this calamity. Whistles of death permeated the atmosphere as Gra Valkan shells rained down upon the hastily abandoned position. Sections of wall, already ruined from the bombings prior, were further destroyed, annihilating the surviving sections and reducing them to mere rubble. Surviving buildings, initially meant to be used to garrison forces, were wiped out. 

The brief attack lasted minutes. As the captured Gra Valkan revealed, only three volleys struck Arocles’ position. The moment the third round of shells impacted their fortifications, Arocles opened a hatch connected to the surface. A periscope poked out of the ground, scouting the horizon.

Having calculated the time between the first three volleys, Arocles patiently waited until he was certain a fourth volley was not en route. The few minutes he sacrificed were precious, but he didn’t want to risk any of his forces. Ready to deploy, he ordered his men out of the tunnel network.

Hastily, they set up their armaments, hunkering down by the numerous piles of rubble that dotted the broken wall. Miraculously, the keep still stood, suffering damage no further than light scratches from shrapnel. He ordered Harrow’s men up there immediately and positioned himself – along with a team of manacomm operators – atop a surviving rampart, so he could see the battlefield and provide orders as necessary.

By the time he reached the position, he was able to see a rolling cloud of dust and smoke fast approaching. He grumbled, heart beating anxiously as he steeled himself for combat. He reached out for his manacomm, “All units, hold your fire! Wait for my command!”

Hoping to ambush the tide of vehicles like he did their advance scouts, he waited for the machines to come closer. Heeding the Americans’ warning on Gra Valkan technological superiority, he knew that the only way to truly injure them was to negate their primary advantage: range. Using binoculars, he kept his eyes on the vehicles. They were organized into an armored spearhead, with a small wedge-shaped group of Wilder heavy tanks leading the formation. 

Arocles’ mouth twisted in slight frustration. He was taught that this was a common formation used by armored units, and excelled in breaching static defenses. The best way to counter this type of assault was to pick away at the corners of the formation, but without access to tanks, Arocles could not do that. He couldn’t defeat the enemy outright here, but he could, however, slow them down. An idea flashed into his mind. “All mages, begin excavating the dirt fifty meters away from the INSIDE of the wall. Create a ditch to trap the tanks.”

The mages began their work, evident by the blue glow that now encompassed their positions. Seeing that such phenomena would likely make them a priority target, Arocles issued the order for his men to begin engaging the enemy. “All cannons, aim for softer targets and fire!”

Hidden by rubble and tarp, the Sonalian forces unleashed their firepower. A combination of anachronistic cannonballs and Muan High Explosive shells rained down upon the Gra Valkans. Compensating for their lack of power, the cannonballs were aimed at the light vehicles near the center and rear of the formation, while the Muan shells were aimed at the Shafer light tanks and Hound medium tanks. The projectiles inflicted catastrophic damage on their intended targets, but failed to pierce the armor of the larger Wilders, which shrugged off the explosions and pushed onward. 

Shocked by the sudden, unanticipated ambush, the Gra Valkan formation crumbled slightly, tanks and vehicles breaking away amidst the chaos. As a testament to their training and experience, the Gra Valkans quickly regrouped and retaliated in kind. Their tanks fired blindly at seemingly random targets along the wall, guided only by the muzzle flashes of the Sonalians’ first strike. 

“Grenadiers,” Arocles called out, “target the Wilder heavy tanks. Create a wall of fire which they cannot pass!”

Taking a page from the Altarans’ book, the Sonalian grenadiers used satchels of explosive material, mixed with dust from magic gems. Unlike the Altaran explosives, these were augmented by flammable liquid and substances – designed in accordance with advice from mysterious American benefactors. Serving as magical molotov cocktails and fired from catapults, these satchels were far more potent than their Terran ancestor. 

Upon impact, the satchels burst into a sticky blue flame, akin to napalm. Agents such as baking soda and tar complemented the magic dust to remarkable effect, as the flames stuck to the vehicles even after they initiated a panicked retreat. The fire itself was similarly enhanced, with the magically improved flames reaching temperatures attained by napalm itself. Terrified Gra Valkan tank crews, encumbered by the flames and beginning to feel the heat through their tanks’ thick chassis, abandoned their vehicles. They climbed out of their tanks hoping to escape the heat, only for the flames to stick to their uniforms. 

They cried out, screaming in agony as they rolled on the ground in a futile attempt to extinguish the hellish grasp of this makeshift napalm. Some were unwilling to suffer further, and simply committed suicide on the spot, shooting themselves in the head. Those who had yet to escape from their tanks and had functioning viewports saw the fate of their comrades, opting to endure the heat of the ovens they were trapped in. 

The tanks caught by the fiery attack were those positioned at the tip of the formation. As they retreated, they backed up into the vehicles behind them, sowing chaos and disorganization. The lead section of the armored spearhead fell into disarray, forcing the rest of the formation to break off and form their own wedges as they continued the assault. However, with many of the Wilder heavy tanks taken out of the fight, these new sub-formations granted reduced protection, and were more prone to devastating attacks from the Muan anti-tank guns.

More shells impacted Gra Valkan armor, reducing ever more vehicles to burning, lifeless husks. Even some of the Wilder tanks suffered mobility issues as lucky strikes damaged their tracks. However, the more the Sonalians attacked, the more the Gra Valkans became aware of their positions. Already, numerous gun crews were eliminated, leaving Arocles with only ten Muan guns and thirty gunpowder cannons to hold the line – down from over 20 Muan guns and 100 cannons.

The Gra Valkans continued their staggered retreat, eventually reaching the outer limits of cannon range. Using range to their advantage, they allowed the Wilder tanks to take the brunt of the Sonalian attacks while returning fire at any muzzle flash spotted. After only a few minutes, all of the anti-tank guns were destroyed. The Gra Valkans then set their sights on any visible defensive formations, destroying many of the cannons they had identified earlier. Satisfied with their work, they pushed on. 

From the keep, Lieutenant Harrow’s men provided status updates for the ongoing battle. Faced with few soft targets for their rifles, they held their fire and kept a low profile to avoid being shot at by the tanks below. Biding their time, they waited for an opportunity to arise, hoping an enemy commander would pop his head out of a tank.

Meanwhile, Gra Valkan infantry began disembarking from their armored vehicles in anticipation of urban combat within the base’s ruins. Arocles took notice and ordered his men to hold fire, seeing that the Gra Valkans were forming up behind the tanks. The presence of automatic weapons among his men was still a secret to the Gra Valkans, who have thus far only seen muskets and cannons. “Grenadiers, prepare your weapons and wait for my mark,” Arocles ordered, waiting for the Gra Valkans to inch closer. 

Ideally, Arocles would’ve waited for the Gra Valkans to come within melee range so his men could take advantage of their older weaponry. However, this hope was quickly snuffed as a surviving cannon on his side went off, striking a Wilder to little effect. The cannon and its operators were subsequently blown to smithereens, sparking a new engagement near Basilisk Platoon’s position, 100 meters from the wall. “Damn this,” Arocles cursed, forced to act by someone’s itchy trigger finger. “Grenadiers, target the densest concentration of enemy forces you can see! All other units, engage!”

As a group of horns went off, wooden catapults were rotated and angled as best the grenadiers could in this hectic environment. With the snapping of ropes, the primitive devices launched their modernized, arcane weaponry. Some of the satchels missed their intended targets, slathering only a few light vehicles with their potent blaze. Others found their mark, landing in between tightly compacted formations and incinerating dozens of men while setting several tanks ablaze.

While the grenadiers reloaded their catapults, Sonalian infantry began engaging the enemy. Machine guns opened up, much to the surprise of the Gra Valkans, who huddled behind the tank formations. The battle commenced in earnest. Bullets, musketballs, and arrows flew all over the battlefield. The bloody close quarters engagement spanned nearly a mile of the ruined wall’s length, as dozens of Gra Valkan and Sonalian units duked it out. Facing no resistance from heavy weapons, the Gra Valkans closed the distance quickly, devolving the battle into a brutal melee engagement.

Seeing the chaos, Arocles issued new orders, “Grenadiers, do NOT fire at our allies! Maintain original attack angles to cut off reinforcements!”

As soon as he finished with this order, one of the manacomm operators gave him an update, “Sir, the mages report that they have completed the construction of the ditch.”

“Have Lieutenant Harrow and his men line the ditch with his remaining explosives, and save one for the tunnel; we cannot allow the Gra Valkans to follow our retreat,” Arocles commanded. He then turned to another operator, whose job was to communicate with the grenadiers. “Soldier, have the grenadiers place their remaining munitions in the ditch and spread them out alongside Harrow’s explosives. Once they’re complete with this task, cover the thing with tarp.”

Arocles’ orders were carried out as quickly as possible. As soon as he saw that the tarp was placed, he ordered a full retreat. Harrow’s men, equipped with the best weaponry, fell back first and turned around to give support for their retreating allies. The men in the keep opened up with their weapons, decapitating terrified Gra Valkan soldiers from afar. The retreating Sonalians maneuvered around the tarp, guided by soldiers who kept them away from the newly-created trap.

Aiming to protect his retreat, Arocles decided to use the environment to his advantage. “Mages, create a dust storm! Hamper the enemy advance as best you can!”

A sudden gale swept through the ruined base. High velocity winds, aimed at the Gra Valkans, pelted them with dust and debris from the battle, swarming them and ruining their visibility. The Gra Valkans, faced with unrelenting random gunfire from concealed positions, dared not chase after the fleeing enemy. Instead, they once more cowered behind their tanks, already traumatized by the unexpectedly bloody ambush they had experienced earlier. The tanks moved forward cautiously, wary of the clouds of dust that now blanketed the battlefield. With their vision impaired, they had difficulty identifying targets.

By the time the winds calmed and the dust settled, they saw no targets to shoot at. Believing their enemy was not too far behind, they pressed onward, only for their tanks to fall into the wide ditch. Before they could even radio for their engineers to pull out the trapped vehicles, a series of detonations – reminiscent of the one that annihilated the convoy in Leiforia – swept ditch. The trapped crews, alongside all infantry caught near the tanks, were introduced to fire and brimstone. 

Arocles, watching the ordeal from the bunker’s periscope, smiled. Holding the detonator, he lingered, enjoying the scene of his victory. “Burn in hell, Gra Valkans.”

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