Chapter 27: Victory In Two Months (2/2)

The Luran Campaign suddenly increases in tempo following Leon's encounter with the Fanossians.

Offensives slated to start in several weeks' time are jumped ahead into days. The logistics chain is strained to its utmost limits, necessitating the entirety of the Nielsen Courier company being hired by the House Arclight to help with the rapidly moving Holfortan invasion force, all 3 of its fast cargo vessels tasked with the rapid delivery of the most needed supplies to the farthest operation areas all over the Pocket Kingdom.

The 422nd is whipped into a frenzy at the news of Leon managing to not only survive but drive off an Armor pilot who may or may not have been the legendary Black Knight of Fanoss, and they roar red war as they lead their fellows into the Luran defenses the very second the artillery fire ceases; just so they could shatter them to prove a point.

Luran Armors fall to the faster and more experienced Holfortans, infantry positions are overrun by Holfortan footsoldiers that howl and roar for surrender even as they cut down any that fought back. Fortresses meant to withstand months-long sieges fall in hours, so quickly that pilots for whole Luran Armor squadrons couldn't even get into their machines quickly enough to sortie

So quick is their advance that word of fortresses falling don't even reach those behind them before the Holftans do– the retreating fleets or messenger ships overtaken by Holfortan scout ships and boarded without a fight or outright blasted out of the sky if they chose to resist. Sometimes, retreating Lurans arrived to already-captured bases, or cities under assault by Holfortans.

1 week after the border incident sees morale faltering all over the pocket kingdom following the surge in aggressiveness and speed. Luran commanders surrender, willingly or at gunpoint by their terrified underlings, to the encroaching Holfortans. Cities give up, their populaces and most of their garrisons betraying the booming demands of their leaders– even pointing the Holfortans to them when they did arrive. Rapid Armor assaults tear down walls and open locked gates, allowing armored infantry to surge in and overwhelm the defenders in quick but bloody melee.

2 weeks pass and the Pocket Kingdom of Lura loses another 20% of its territory to the Holfortans. Spearheads led by Lord Arclight aboard the Bright Blade, Armors from the 422nd, and Leon personally sweep around the Luran capital of Luga to encircle it– surging deeper into the rest of the pocket kingdom and smashing aside all resistance with overwhelming artillery fire. Fortresses are besieged, cutting off smaller forts and even smaller settlements from reinforcements– allowing for Holfortans to surge in and take them.

Those that resist are slain. Those that surrender are treated fairly and humanely, with Leon personally punishing any Holfortan that deviates from his orders. The assurance is enough to get the populace to like the Holfortans, thus further weakening Luran morale.

3 weeks in, mass surrenders and infighting occur in the Luran military ranks. First, individual soldiers give themselves up to Holfortan patrols, then whole squads, then whole companies and regiments. Armor squadrons follow suit, and then whole fleets. Fortresses wave white flags in the face of approaching Holfortan forces, their garrisons too demoralized to continue fighting or outright missing entirely. Deserters that turn to banditry are hunted down by Holfortan forces under orders to protect civilian settlements, further endearing them to the common Luran man and woman.

Before the week is even over, another 25% of the pocket kingdom falls to Holfortan control; whole islands and noble families welcoming the Holfortans with lukewarm reception– some with barely restrained distaste. But that was fine– let the diplomats and bureaucrats figure out how to make them like the Kingdom. Leon and the 422nd's jobs were to conquer, not befriend.

Now, only 1 island remains unconquered– the Luran capital.

Preparations are made; troops mustered, Armors moved, ships mobilized, and supplies readied. Surrendered commanders are interrogated and information is gathered. Over the course of a few days, the largest concentration of Holfortan force in the pocket kingdom is gathered and readied for what would be the final battle of the war.

Then a messenger ship bearing the Royal Crest arrives, with a letter to Lana and Lord Arclight. The blonde immediately left on her fastest ship, the Little Buzzard, while Harvey pulled Leon aside as he ordered assault preparations to continue… but no attack is to be made.

"What?" Leon gawks. "Why?!"

"Because the King is coming." the older man tells him. "And he's ordered us to refrain from attacking."

=X=X=X=X=X=

"What the fuck does that stuffy bastard want to do here?" Leon complains for the nth time 5 days later, watching the Little Buzzard slowly dock at the base he and Lord Arclight had prepared. "We could've taken Luran days ago. Less lives could've been lost, and my boys and I would be on our way home already. This is fucking bullshit."

//"Yes, yes, you've been ranting and raving about that for the past 5 days Leon."// Hustler One grumbles. //"Now hush, your King is about to disembark."//

Leon, scar now healed enough to no longer require a bandage, stands in his officer's uniform beside Lord Arclight as the Little Buzzard docks and lines are secured. 2 companies of infantry, 2 Armor squadrons, and a force of the Royal Music Corps stand ready. At the battlements, and all around the docks are onlookers. Holfortan, Luran, man and woman and child. All watch with bated breath as the main ramp opens and drops down.

Two lines of gorgeous, stacked blonde gynoids in tasteful uniforms march down along the sides of the ramp before turn to the interior of the ramp as a red carpet is rolled out. Moments later the familiar form of King of Holfort strides out with a group of royal guardsmen occupying his flanks and rear.

"All hail, His Grace! Roland Rafa Holfort!" one of the gynoids announces. "King of Holfort!"

The Royal Musicians play their instruments and fill the air with song, the Armors sounding their horns in a resplendent chorus that serves to further enhance the musicians' efforts. All of that is drowned out by the cheering and adoration that the onlookers provide; cheering, praising, and clapping. Confetti is loosed by those atop the battlements and they rain into the parade ground like glittering and colorful snowflakes.

The King of Holdforts walks forward, head held high and expression pleased. The gynoids salute as he passes, and so do the infantry as he steps off the ramp and onto solid ground. He spreads his arms wide and the cheering redoubles.

"We could be out there breaking through the Luran capital's defenses right now! Or hunting down desserter-bandits! Or purging monsters! Or literally ANYTHING ELSE besides this!" Leon can't help but whine at the A.I even as his face remains carefully blank. "It's such a waste of time!"

Hustler One's only sign of acknowledgement is a single long-suffering sigh.

The King takes his time walking down the aisle, soaking up all the attention and cheering and praise. Thankfully, it's a short walk before he finds himself standing before Leon and Harvey; both of them saluting him and holding it until he salutes back.

"General Arclight. Lieutenant Marshwell." the handsome man greets, clasping their shoulders. "Your success in this campaign has far surpassed my wildest estimates. I understand we are but one assault away from fully conquering the Pocket Kingdom of Lura?"

"Yes, Your Majesty." Harvey nods. "Our forces are ready and waiting. Follow us in and we shall brief you on the particulars."

=X=X=X=X=X=

The king is ushered into the depths of the base, where a briefing room has been prepared. On the wall are maps of the pocket Kingdom, while a simple map of the Luran capital sits on the large briefing table in the center of the room

"The capital of Luran is protected by a mountain on its northern side, and meters thick walls that encircle the city's west, south, and east sides while providing excellent coverage of the flat ground beyond them. The mountain has been partially hollowed out according to intelligence we've recovered from surrendered Luran commanders, with it and the wall's battlements being lined with cannons firing anti-ship and anti-Armor shells, alongside Armors." Lord Arclight explains. "In addition, scouts have confirmed the presence of 6 multi-barreled rapid fire rotary cannons on the highest battlements of the wall; 2 on each side. Each one capable of shooting thousands of bullets per second. Conventional assaults on the wall would see those same cannons turn men into red mist. Attacking the northern side would be too time consuming."

"These rotary cannons must be Lost Items that the Lurans were able to somehow reproduce. How troubling." King Roland notes, looking over the information present. "But… they look newly installed based off of these reconnaissance reports."

"They are, Your Majesty. The Lurans were able to hoist them onto the top of battlements 2 days before you arrived." Harvey nods.

"They wouldn't have if you weren't so fucking full of yourself that you just HAD to fly over here!" Leon screams internally.

"//Leon, shut the fuck up already!"// Hustler One complains. //"Your transmission sounds horrible! It's like you're talking through a bad mic!"//

"Fuck you, if I have to deal with this dipshit's nonsense then so will you!" Leon roars back.

"Hmm… Troubling. Very troubling." the stupid King strokes his chin, and Leon wishes the man would look up and meet his gaze. Instead, he turns to Harvey "What is the assault plan, then?"

"Lieutenant?" the older man nods at Leon.

Leon takes a deep breath and looks away from the stupid king and focuses on the map of Luga.

"The plan calls for artillery fire from Artillery Armors and all available ships to soften the defenses while three separate Armor spearheads charge across the plains towards the west, south, and east entrances under smoke cover." Leon says. "However, those rotary cannons outrange our artillery– meaning any ship we send to bombard the walls will be shot up to hell and back. Either way this assault will be costly."

A tense silence falls over the table as the King stares at the map. Leon stares as the side of the man's head in turn, hoping to whatever higher power that sent him here that this fool realizes just how big of a blunder he's made. Hundreds would die before they even get to the walls. Armors could outrun the gatling guns' fire, but the wall-mounted cannons and the Luran Armors stationed on the walls could whittle them down.

And if anyone manages to make it to the walls, they still have to break through them and take the city. And if Carkus was any indication, Leon is already suspecting some kind of secret weapon inside that would turn their forces to mulch. He would definitely survive, no ifs or buts about it, but the others…

//"...are you done moping?"// Hustler One says.

"No. Fuck off."

//"Oh? Then I suppose I'll just not tell you about a potential solution."//

"And what solution would that be?"

//"Leon, dear, I know it's been a while since you've had one installed on your AC and used it,"// the A.I starts, voice gentle. //"But do remember my ship has missile bays with range exceeding any known New Human artillery piece to date."//

"..."

//"It's not gonna be free."//

"What the hell am I gonna pay you with?!"

//"You can just reimburse me on the raw materials later. I heard dungeon diving is rite of passage for Holfortan men anyway, and since you'll be of age soon it will be kill two birds with one stone."//

"...I hate it when you're right."

"...however," Leon continues once the silence stretches on for long enough. "There may yet be a solution."

=X=X=X=X=X=

Commander Michelet Ru Okas beheld the formation of Holfortan ships that hang in the skies above the capital city of Lura. There are dozens of them, outnumbering the pitiful 4 vessels that remain docked in the secret underground port. Around him, his men make busy– relieving tired nightwatchmen as the sun rises.

In the distance, just out of range of the twin Mulcher Cannons mounted over the south gate, the Holfortans muster. Infantry and Armor moving just beyond the hill where they've made landfall. Any moment now they would charge across the plain, right into the Mulcher Cannons' range of fire. There, they would die, again and again and again until the Mulchers run out of bullets and the walls would be breached. After that, it would be up to the King to avenge them, avenge their Kingdom, before Holfort snuffs it out entirely.

But until then, they would fight. And they would make these whore-son pay for every step they take on this island.

"Sir." one of his soldiers greets. "Come to see the calm before the slaughter?"

"Aye, Private. If nothing else, it would be good to see them die to the Mulchers." he glances at them one more time, the pair of 6-barreled rotary cannons dug out of the royal armory. "It's funny. I thought you would have considered running."

"I did, sir. But with all the boats sunk, I have little choice." the Private laughs. "Though… surrender might still be an option."

"You think too lowly of our chances here." Michelet snorts. "The Mulchers will make short work of the Holfortans and their vaunted Armors. They will keep feeding their men here and continue dying, until eventually none remain. Then we surge out and retake our country from their filthy, bloody hands."

"Heh. Wouldn't that be a sight?" the Private sighs. "Huh. They're bringing out a new ship. Up there, look."

Michelet pulls out his binoculars and sights down the new arrival. The vessel is only 70 meters long, painted red and black. It is sleeker than the others surrounding it, more advanced in make.

"So they've brought out their Lost Items at last." Michelet snorts. "Let it come– the Mulchers will shoot it down. Not even an airship can survive direct fire from them!"

Then the ship's bow unfolds.

=X=X=X=X=X=

Leon and the rest of the assembled assault force beholds the Little Buzzard as it empties all of its missile bays. 80 missiles streak through the sky, their contrails damn near blotting out the morning sunlight as they streak towards the southern wall.

//"Missiles away. Time to impact, 30 seconds."// Hustler One says.

"Men of Holfort! Warriors young and old!" King Roland shouts, his regal-looking Armor standing at the forefront beside Leon's own mech and that of Lord Arclight's. "Listen well! Long have you fought here, and many are the challenges you have overcome! But today is the final battle, the last obstacle to our victory!"

He draws the greatsword magnetically locked on the back of his AC and activates it with a graceful spin, the blade of the weapon glowing a familiar green-blue hue. The assembled men cheer.

"The Kingdom will remember this day, men! And it will remember you, all of you, for the courage you show and the glory we shall all partake in!" the King roars. "Now follow me! To our destiny!"

He raises his weapon up as the missiles fall and turn the southern wall to rubble. The battlements where the gatling guns sit upon crumble under the force of the explosions, the two massive weapons collapsing into the dirt. The time of it sends the men into another raucous cheer, one that even Lord Arclight joins in. Leon just rolls his eyes readies his guns.

"Chaaaaaaaaaaaaarge!!" King Roland orders and the force of 90 Armors surge ahead, leaving him behind as he runs while everybody else boosts. "Wha– wait for me! Slow down!"

"Hah. Serves him right." Leon laughs to himself before turning on his radio. "Lord Arclight, remember the plan."

"I lead my force to the west side of the city, you lead yours to the east, while His Highness takes his forward through the center of the city." the older man repeats. "We regroup at the foot of the palace and storm in together. No mistakes."

"No mistakes." Leon echoes as they reach the ruined wall. "Good hunting."

Leon jumps and flies over, boosting to the east side and gunning down 2 Luran Armors. They spark and burn as he lands, quick-boosting along the wall as the fighting commences. Cannons and infantry open fire, but all they do is scratch his mech's paint before a blast from Leon's shotgun silences them forever.

More Armors rush out to meet Leon, only to be gunned down by his reinforcements. They land and start moving, spreading out to systematically clear out any remaining Luran Armors and destroy any infantry positions in the east side of the city. Leon watches the hell of war unfold as he switches to his laser rifle for an energy blade.

"Move it! Clear every street and watch the rooftops!" Leon barks, boosting forward and cutting down a Luran mech. "Advance to the Royal Palace! Carriers, drop your infantry and support the frontliners! Artillery, start pounding the palace defenses! I want them gone by the time the three spearheads rendezvous there!"

"Yes sir!" comes the unified response.

Leon lets himself fall into autopilot as the battle progresses, gunfire and explosions filling his ears. Mechs fight mechs, man kills man, and he's taken back to his old life as Leos Klein fighting in the unification wars following the fall of Raven's Nest. The chaos, the sounds, the violence– he can't help but laugh as he smashes through another barricade and cuts down another Luran Armor before boost-dodging an artillery shell from a Luran Heavy Armor. Behind him, his underlings surge through the path he makes to deal with any stragglers.

War never really changes.

More Armors come, backed with defensive emplacements and infantry armed with anti-Armor weapons, but none can stop him. The Armors he guns down or slashes into halves. The defensive emplacements are turned to scrap by his underlings. The infantry are butchered by Holfortan soldiery when they close the distance with superhuman speed.

All around him, Luga burns in the fires of conflict. But all Leon feels is a pressing need to end this battle here and now.

"I just wanna go home already…" he grunts, forcing himself to move forward.

By the time he reaches the Luran palace, its outer walls have all but collapsed under the weight of fire from his artillery so he orders them to stop. Then he switches frequencies to his fellow leaders.

"East Spearhead to West and South, come in." he radios. "We're at the Palace. Where are you?"

"West Spearhead, still a few minutes out." Lord Arclight reports. "Resistance is stiff, but we're making progress."

A long moment of silence passes before Leon sighs.

"Your Highness, come in." he asks. "How is you progress?"

"Ah, just fine boy! Just fine!" the King laughs. "In fact, we just reached the palace gates ourselves! Hardly a scratch on us! Hah!"

//"He's only half-way to the palace walls."// Hustler One reports. //"Resistance is particularly fierce there– multiple defensive lines on the ground and atop the roofs. Your underlings are doing most of the work while he's dueling enemy commanders and Armors– but he's very good at it."//

"Rico, take your squadron and 2 others to support His Highness' advance." Leon orders. "Let him duel the Armors, just clear whatever defensive lines you can reach."

"Yes sir." Rico acknowledges. "Locust Squadron, Bandit Squadron, on me."

"Then rest of you, follow me. We're breaching the palace courtyard." Leon orders the rest before just walking through the weakened wall and into the palace courtyard proper. "Move it."

"Shouldn't we wait for His Highness, sir?" one of his underlings asks.

"No." Leon grunts. "Now come on."

1 AC leading 14 custom MTs advance into the Luran Royal Palace's courtyard. It is a pretty place complete with a hedge maze, a large fountain, tall trees, and even an artificial lake wth a nice gazebo in the middle of it. There are no Armors here, only infantrymen garbed in elaborate uniforms– Luran royal guards, then.

They shoot at Leon with rifles and throw magic at him, but his AC is simply too well-armored to be damaged. They retreat as he and his underlings advance, trampling greenery and etching tracks into the soft soil as they advance; the MTs spreading out while Leon advances to the entrance of Luran royal palace itself.

"I am Lieutenant Leon Fou Marshwell! Sub-commander of the Holfortan forces!" he announces through the external speakers of his mech. "My forces have besieged the city and the airspace surrounding the island! I call for the King of the Lura Pocket Kingdom to surrender peacefully and order his soldiers to stand down, so no more blood needs to be shed!" he pauses to let the people within digest his words. "You have until the count of 3 to comply or I will storm into your residence to find you myself!"

He raises his AC's left hand and the accompanying Artillery Mechs assume ready positions; cannons pointing at the palace.

"1!" Leon counts. "2!"

"A-Alright! Alright! I surrender!" a voice shouts, somehow audible over the gunfire and explosions of the battle that were tearing the city apart. "Please, spare me!"

Leon looks at the man, the supposed king of the pocket kingdom, as he stumbles out with a gaggle of his royal guards. His looks… old. Worn, and tired. Terrified, too. He thinks the man could be old than his father, given how his gray hair has started to go bald.

The young man just sighs as Holfortan infantry rush in, surrounding the man. Not a moment later, Lord Arclight and his Highness the King finally arrive.

"Took them long enough." Leon grumps.