9. Chapter 7 : Fantômes

Checkpoint Bravo, 5 km South of Camp Alnus, November 11th, 1505 AT

« Overlord, Checkpoint Bravo ! We have a massive enemy force coming our way from the south ! Several tens of thousands ! And a lot of small dragons ! We need immediate support ! »

« Come again, Checkpoint Bravo. You have a what ? »

The radio operator was obviously surprised, like all the soldiers assigned to the Checkpoint. Nothing happened for four days after a major victory, and with the logic of modern conflict, everyone thought that an attack was very unlikely.

But unlikely don't mean impossible.

« A freaking army appeared from behind the hills two clicks south. At least fifty thousands infantry and a lot of small dragons, and they don't look friendly. We need immediate reinforcements ! »

« Copy that, Checkpoint Bravo. What is their ETA on your position ? Over. »

« Huh… I would say they will be on our position in twenty-five mikes. Over. »

For a few seconds nothing came through the radio, making the tension of all the group rise.

« Checkpoint Bravo, be advised, we are sending mechanized infantry and tanks to your position. ETA ten mikes. Don't change position and try to lie low. Overlord out. »

The captain switched his radio to the squad's frequency.

« Alright ! Everyone in their designated vehicle and don't move a fucking inch. Cavalry's on its way. Understood ? »

As expected, a unanimous "Yes sir !" came back through the net.

The captain was at the wheel of the Humvee with three other soldiers while the rest of the group was at the back of the Bradley.

Around them, everything was silent. Only the whisper of the light wind blowing from the south was coming to the ears of anyone in the area. One of the machine gunner who had a small experience with hunting made the remark that it was a good thing. The small dragons should be able to sent their presence. Obviously, an other soldier had to make a joke about taking showers and a private's reputation of "scenting a lot."

Trying to be as discrete as possible, the two engines were turned off, even if it meant not being able to use the turret of the Bradley, thus neutralizing its optics. At that moment, the only eyes of the squad were the googles of the Bradley driver, commenting every move of the large opposing force.

They were seeing the enemy without the enemy seeing them.

They were also hearing the enemy.

It was faint at first, but it was growing louder.

The sound of boots striking the ground in rhythm.

A hundred thousand boots, to be precise.

For everyone, those ten minutes were the longest ten minutes of their lives : stuck with 9 other inside an infantry fighting vehicle with little to no information on what was going on.

Until the rumble of boots was replaced by the rumble of tracks and engines.

The dismount order was given by the captain and the back door slowly started to open, revealing to all the soldiers numerous armored vehicles, especially one M1A1 Abrams that stopped right next to the sign.

Its jet engine was producing a loud noise, forcing anyone wanting to talk to yell or to do hand signs.

The commander's hatch opened, revealing the black man assigned to this position. He tried to tell something to the captain, but all the people looking could only see the moving lips. Realizing that a discussion in such conditions was impossible, the commander yelled an order to his driver through the boom microphone.

In an instant, the engine was turned off, and the rumbling noises were now only coming from the other vehicles getting into position along the small crest to have the best position possible compared to the coming enemy.

« Thanks, Little John, started the tank commander. So, as I was saying, cavalry's here… » The interrogated looks coming from everyone that had heard him were better than any word to tell how lame it actually sounded. « Hum… I guess that it was better in my head… »

With embarrassment on his face, he dived back in his vehicle and reach for the radio.

« Overlord, this is Horsemen 4, we are in position at Checkpoint Bravo. Confirming presence of large enemy force one click south of our position. Over »

« Copy that Horsemen 4. Is the OPFOR still heading towards your current position ? Over. »

« Huh… Wait for a second, Overlord. »

He looked through his magnification. One kilometer away, the army was still in movement, but it wasn't advancing anymore. From a formation were the groups of soldiers were one behind the others, they were getting into a battle formation. The cavalry and was moving to be in front of the groups of archers, and the dragon riders were making their steeds hover over the army.

A battle position could only mean one thing, the enemy saw them.

« Overlord, the enemy is getting into some sort of attack formation, nine hundred meters south of our position. Over. »

« Roger, Horsemen 4. To all active units in the AO, this is Overlord. Be advised that allied artillery is in position and ready to fire. Stay on standby. Overlord, Out. »

In the distance, the enemy forces were convinced that their victory was assured. Their scouts told them that the area was guarded by twelve men and a strange metal carriage, and since a few minutes other carriages appeared on the top of the small hill. They estimated that there should be less than a hundred and fifty men directly opposing them, and in all the army occupying the Holy Hill of Alnus was around ten thousands men strong. The coalition summoned by the Emperor was ten times bigger, and there wasn't a way such a small force could win.

But those thoughts were coming from military commanders that didn't knew what a 155mm artillery shell was.

At that exact moment, they discovered it "the hard way" when in an instant a strange object fell from the heavens at high speed and transformed into a fireball, transforming several dozens of men into a rain of limbs, blood and gore, and making another dozen scream of pain because of the injuries.

And another one fell, and another group disappeared.

And another one.

And another one.

It was literally raining explosions on the Allied Army.

Some generals ordered their armies to charge, but the men on the hill started to mow down anyone getting too close with their thunder-summoning magic and their giant behemoths that spat explosions.

Seeing how the number of men was melting like snow in the sun, the majority of generals ordered the retreat of their men. In less than a few minutes, twenty thousand men were lost, either dead, injured or captured. In recorded history of this world, never an army with such a small number of soldiers managed to force a superior fore to retreat.

« How did it come to this ? » started to cry Mert, king of Mudwan

All around the table, the faces of the few leaders remaining were closed. The day before, they were eighteen kings or generals, each one representing one of the eighteen vassal states of the Empire. Now they were only eight. Seven were killed, two fled with their armies and one disappeared, his body nowhere to be found on the battlefield. Under the tent marking the center of the Allied Army's camp, the first assault survivors were completely depressed.

« For now, we were just pushed back. » started Duran, king of Elbe. The army of his kingdom was representing one fifth of the whole coalition manpower, or twenty thousand men.

« You can talk, came back a general of a principauty east of the Empire. You weren't at the front and you almost didn't suffered any losses. »

During the attempted attack, each army sent around half of their forces. And losing up to half of your entire army in an instant isn't something that makes any general happy.

« For now, we should not divide ourselves. The real enemy is currently on top of the Holiest place in all the land. » Duran was trying to rally everybody under a common banner, but even if treaties and agreements were saying so, the Army started to slowly lose its characteristic of "Allied".

« And what is the Imperial Army doing ? » asked Mert, starting to panic.

Next to him was the helmet of the Duke of Ligu. The right side of the helmet was completely blackened by the intense heat it was exposed to. The highly decorated visor was perforated by a piece of a broken sword, and the stuck piece of shrapnel was red, showing how brutal the death of the Duke was.

« Knowing Faram Em Lanti, I'm sure that he threw all his men at the enemy thinking he could overrun them. We can't rely on any Imperial support. »

« But they can destroy us way before we reach the range of our archers… How can we fight ? »

Over the plain were the Allied Army's camp was situated, the sun was setting. Between the colored tents, the soldiers were starting to light up bonfire and to cook their rations. Not taking the battle into account, this day was one of the most beautiful of the season. Not a cloud in the sky and a small wind in theory perfect for the numerous dragon riders. But it was only in theory. All day, dragons were sent to scout the enemy position, but to everyone's horror every single one of them was shot down over the forest surrounding the hill. The legendary Elbe Dragon Corp was supposed to be the most powerful tool of the Allied Army, with the highest number of dragon prepared for combat in all the land. But for the first time in history, they were facing an invincible enemy.

« Maybe a night raid could work. » thought Duran out loud.

« You are crazy, Duran ! barked another general. It will be another massacre, and we'll all die. We must retreat ! The stability of the whole continent is at stake. » The general stood up and grabbed on the table a highly decorated sword broken in half, the only remain of Formar, Count of Italica. « Look at this sword. Look at it ! Do you know what it means ? It means that the most important trade center of the whole continent is now ruled by an eleven years old girl with almost no political education. Ligu didn't have a heir, meaning that it will fall in conflict as soon as the news will arrive to the ears of the local nobles. »

He continued for every noble that died during the attack. The list was long, and each name convincing a new leader to leave the battlefield to return to their wives and their children.

« Fleeing will only allow the enemy to walk to your castle's doors. But I will not try to convince you. I'll leave at noon to attack them with all of my forces. Either I will be victorious, or Emroy shall greet me with open arms in his realm. » came back Duran, that started to leave the commanding tent.

As the cloth was closing behind him, he heard Mert yelling in his direction.

« I wish you good luck, but I will start writing my letter of condolence to your wife. »

And Duran disappeared between the tents, heading towards the camp of the Elbe Army.

Enemy Camp, South of Alnus Hill, November 12th, 0224 AT

« Fantôme Actual, Fantôme 3. There is a large movement of troops, north of the camp. Little less than twenty thousands men, and a lot of dragons. They are in attack formation. »

« Copy that Fantôme 3. Maintain position while I transmit this to HQ. Fantôme Actual Out. »

In his headset, Sergent Fréderic "Soul" Roux heard the click meaning the transmission between him and his superior, Lieutenant Nicolas "Sergei" Pantov, has ended. In all, they were eight from the Treizième Régiment de Dragon Parachustistes positioned all around the camp. They were here since sunset, observing every movement in that enormous hive made of colorful tents, hidden by their Ghillie suits. The mission was in no way different than the usual ones. Find a place where you can see without being seen, conceal yourself, try to find something interesting and wait for the order to either extract it or blow it up. But this time, Les Fantômes weren't observing a village occupied by a hundred jihadists like the majority of their missions. Instead, through their night vision googles, they were surrounding soldiers equipped with simple wooden shields and short swords. Nothing was easy for Special Forces, but this was the easiest operation in the regiment's history.

« Hey Soul ! started another voice, this time on the local net. Do you think they'll understand what will happen to them. »

This voice was coming from his partner, Caporal Thibault "Fünf" Wermer, or Fantôme 4. He was a few meters away on Soul's left, hidden behind a small bush.

« I don't know and I don't care, Fünf. If you don't have anything useful to say, shut the fuck up. » Even if he was whispering in his microphone, his tone was clearly showing that Soul was taking this mission really seriously.

« Well, I can observe that those guys aren't good at protecting their leaders. In five fucking minutes, we already knew where they are and how they are protected. And now we're sitting on out asses for six hours without anything to observe. Is that useful ? »

« Shut the hell up and be ready to move. The rendezvous with Sergei and Doré is in five mikes. »

The two stood up in the darkness and started to make their way to the position of Fantôme Actual and Fantôme 2. Slowly jogging in the middle of the night, wearing their dark vegetation suits, they were shadows.

They were ghosts.

They were fantômes.

The survivors of the first attack managed, in their collapse, to reach their camp. It was situated at a safe distance of Alnus, for a Middle Ages like army, next to one of the numerous isolated groves that filled the large plain surrounding the Hill, using it as a natural fortification for the eastern side.

After two minutes, Soul and Fünf entered the forest and reunited with two other shadows.

« Alright, started one of the two men in ghillie suit, we have identified two positions of possible HVTs at opposite sides of the camp. We're taking this one while the rest of the team is taking the other, west of our position. Our target is the big tent with blue and yellow on it. »

Between the four operators and the tents, there was only a few hundred meters and less than ten guards.

« We enter by the back, we take the HVT, we plant C4 and we get out. Copy that ? »

« Solid copy. »

« Ok go ! »

The group started to progress toward their objective, tree by tree, waiting the right moment to change cover. For a simple grove, the vegetation was really dense, allowing the Fantômes to blend perfectly into the background.

Now, they were behind the last line of trees, at only 50 meters of the targeted tent. But they couldn't progress anymore.

« Front, 25 meters, two men talking. 3, take the one on the left, I take the one on the right. On my go. »

In a quick movement, Soul switched off the safety of his suppressed M416 and place the reticule of the Holographic sight on an unprotected part of the guard's body.

« 3… 2… 1… »

The two shooters emptied their lungs.

« Go. »

The fingers squished the two triggers at the same time, and the two guards fell down, their bodies pierced by subsonic 5.56mm rounds.

The suppressors reducing the gunshot and the grass having a cushioning effect on the corpses' fall, none of the other guards patrolling heard anything.

They were ghosts, taking lives in darkness and silence.

With a hand signal, Sergei gave his indications.

Clear. Progress to objective.

Getting out of the forest, the four started to crawl toward the tent.

They stopped next to the cloth wall, trying to know what was going on inside. A voice came from inside.

« My lord, the moral of our men is at the lowest. We can't follow the Army of Elbe. »

« Don't worry. We are not attacking. In fact, we will go back to Mudwan. The one-eyed is mad. »

« I'm sure that your wife the Queen will be happy to see you sooner than expected. »

The sound that came after that was the sound of someone biting into a piece of meat.

Those three sentences meant a lot. There was at least two people inside, one was a king and he was eating, so the element of surprise will be at a maximum.

Another set of hand sings came from Fantôme Actual.

4, make a hole in it. 3, throw a flashbang. Understood ?

Fünf and Soul made the sign showing that they understood.

3

2

1

Go !

Fünf grabbed his knife and stuck it on the fabric higher than man height and pulled it down, ripping the "wall" in two. At that same moment, Soul threw the small brown metallic tube into the tent. The four men in ghillies, turned their back to the made up entrance, waiting for the detonation. The loud bang was the signal. In a second, the four entered.

In point, Sergei swept the room with his look. Three armed guards, what looked like a general and the HVT. They were confused, temporarily blind and/or deaf. Like in training, every hostile element was dealt with immediately.

When the king regained consciousness, he was grabbed from behind by an hand made of leaves. What were those strange creatures ? What kind of magic could incapacitate him for a few seconds and kill his strongest guards and his general in the meantime ? But before he could ask himself other questions, the second arm of the beast wrapped around his neck and started to squeeze, making him fall into an unwanted sleep.

« HVT secured. » whispered Soul.

All around the tent, agitation was at its maximum. The detonation of the incapacitating grenade and the fall of the guards on the dirt ground made enough noise to alert the occupants of the surrounding tents.

« 4, grab as many documents as you can. 2, plant the charge. We're getting out of here. »

Under the body of the three dead guards, Doré slid a charge of plastic explosive.

« Charge set. »

Before anyone could enter in the tent, the operators left by where they appeared with their prisonner.

« Your highness ? asked a lieutenant entering the tent. Wha… »

In front of him, three corpses and a highly injured general.

« My general ? What happened ? »

His chest plate was perforated in three point. Three clean red points just under his heart.

« L… Leaves… Monster… They took… the King. » he tried to say, coughing a lot of blood.

« What ? Leaves monsters ? »

Another soldier entered and tried to examine one of the royal guard. Under his body, he found a strange package. It was soft, and on it a small red light was flashing.

The light was the small thing he saw before he was violently blown up with the rest of the tent and the surrounding ones.

Even if they were where they had parked their ATVs, the eight operators had a good view on the two simultaneous massive explosions.

And on their small steeds, the Fantômes disappeared into the night.

Alnus refugee camp, East of Camp Alnus, November 12th, 1400 AT

The night has been a short one.

At 3 o'clock in the morning, the sound of mortars, artillery, tanks and anti-aircraft guns woke up everyone in the camp. Those sounds were scary for the locals during the first attack, but when it wake you up, it's difficult to go back asleep.

Because of that, the majority of the refugees slept during the morning and the camp usual agitation reappeared by the time the Third Recon Team relayed the fifth one.

Like the day before, Gomez and Elkader were ordered to guard the camp's entrance, and Anthony sat on the same camping chair.

He noticed Lelei getting closer, the same lack of emotion on her face. The only thing that shown she was tired were the small purple circles under her eyes.

« Good morning, sir Moreau. » she started, with a lot of respect in her voice.

« Good morning Lelei, he came back. But, please, I don't like when people call me by surname when they don't have to, so call me Anthony, alright ? So… How can I help you ? Need something »

« Yesterday, we saw that one of the dragon fell in the forest near the camp and I would like to examine it. Can I go out to do that ? »

Anthony thought about it. Can he let a refugee out of the camp ?

« Can you tell me where this dragon is ? »

With her staff, she pointed north, deep inside the forest.

« Over there, I could reach it in less than two minutes of walk. »

« Well I can't let you go alone, so I'll escort you there. Ok ? »

She nodded and turned around towards one of the grey door and entered. While she was inside, Anthony stood up, put back his helmet on his head and grabbed his rifle. When Lelei got out of her room, she had a small knapsack on her back.

The two took the direction of the entrance and passed in front of the two improvised guards that were chatting with a group of kids.

« Where are you going ? » asked Gomez, holding in his hand a coin he made appear behind the ear of a confused small girl.

« She wants to see something in the forest. We'll be out for maximum ten minutes. If you need me, radio me. »

The two privates nodded and the Lieutenant started to follow Lelei that has already stepped in the forest.

To Anthony, this forest felt really familiar. The same trees, the same plants, the same atmosphere as the forests of the Limousin. At one moment, he closed his eyes and imagined himself back home, in the forest that was right on the outskirts of Limoges.

His nostalgic day dream was interrupted by the sight of a massive dark corpse.

« A wing dragon of the Elbian Army. » commented Lelei as she searched for something in her bag.

Anthony looked up. In a tree, several meters over the ground, the dead body of the rider was hanging to a branch like a broken puppet in a purple uniform.

« I have never seen such wounds. » told the young mage pointing one of the red spot that was breaking the plain black color of the scales with a small knife. Not without difficulty, she extracted a large piece of metal from the wound.

She was observing it under all the angles possible, trying to figure out how it could have caused such damage.

« Twenty millimeter armor piercing round. It's normally designed to cut through the hardest metals, so I'm no surprised it could kill that thing, answered Anthony before she could ask the obvious question. But what are you going to do with this corpse. »

« The scales of winged dragons are really solid and very researched, but all winged dragons are used by armies, so those scales are rare, and thus expensive. You can make enough money with one scale to live for two months. And now, we have a dragon's corpse with only a few damaged scales. If we manage to trade them, we could provide for ourselves and not rely on your help. »

When he heard that, he couldn't believe that such a small thing could worth so much. And at that moment, he remembered the rumors that circulated at the mess. It was said that a lot of these flying lizards were shot down during the night raid.

« Maybe if I talk with my superiors, you could take the scales of those corpses. But for now, we have to go back to the camp. »

Anthony turned his back to the dead dragon, making a first step back towards where they came from, but immediatly returned to his former position when he heard Lelei whisper something.

In front of him, the dead dragon that was at least heavier than a man was floating, surronded by a blue light.

Before he could say something, Lelei took the direction of the camp.

« And where are you going to sell those scales ? » he asked, trying to print in his head that magic was definitively something.

And for the first time, the Lieutenant heard the name of the town that will change his perception of war.

Italica.

And that lame cliffhanger conclude the seventh chapter of this fic. Really hope you liked it. For me, this entry means a lot because it's the first one longer than four thousands words. Those who write 10K words long chapter might think it's not a lot, but it is my first story and I'm still learning the fanfiction world.

The tankers of Horsemen 4 are characters created by Faust1812 for his story "Here We Go Again" and thus belong to him. If you haven't read it yet, you're missing something. This story in every way better than mine.

But now, it's time for the reviews.

AznMagicman - Well I was thinking a parade of Pina's Empire, like several years later, when the tensions died, but I get what you mean.

Apollonir - Thanks a lot ! Always feel great to see that people want to read your stuff.

Tundra - My google translation detector is going crazy, you definitively need to learn the basics (no offense)