Summoning America

Alue, Mu

September 25, 1640

Clouds of dust drifted about the desert skies as the relentless sun pestered the marching army below. Hundreds of vehicles rumbled across the dry flatlands, sheltering Gra Valkan soldiers from the dust storm and heat wave that raged outside. Having encountered no resistance from Mu, they only had to worry about the abhorrent conditions of the local environment.

Naturally, the lack of resistance uplifted the soldiers’ morale, despite the terrible weather. However, there was one man who didn’t share the upbeat attitude of the grunts in the Fourth Armored Division. Resting in his comfortable command vehicle, General Borg Flats mulled over the uncomfortable prospect of a Muan trap.

Silence permeated the outskirts of Alue. According to aerial scouts, the base, suburbs, and city were completely abandoned. The buildings were devoid of life, the streets were empty, and even the outer walls were unmanned. Yet, despite this intelligence, Flats couldn’t help but feel an ominous instinct in his gut – one that screamed danger. 

Even the fact that the base and suburbs were empty did little to ease his worries. In fact, the sheer emptiness of these locations served only to amplify his tense attitude, fueling his paranoia. To him, it made sense that they were empty; guerilla warfare was most effective in compact, confusing environments like jungles and cities. The local Muan base was too open, leaving it prone to artillery strikes. The suburbs had few places to hide, harboring nothing but spread-out homes and open roads that his tanks could easily navigate. If the Muans wanted to mount an appropriate defense, it would be inside the city, where roads could be easily blocked and where enemy guns could be hidden in every window.

The entire situation reminded him of previous conflicts, like the ambushes in Hinomawari and Sonal. Much like these earlier battles, the atmosphere of Alue was too quiet. It seemed as if enemies were lurking in the city’s abandoned buildings, waiting for the right opportunity to strike. Nothing could quell his anxiety, not even the motorcycle scouts he sent ahead, who reported no abnormalities. Everything so far pointed to the possibility that Alue was truly abandoned; even their electronic equipment was functioning normally.

Despite these reassurances, his sense of danger only increased the closer he got to the city, and reached its zenith when his tanks reached the city’s outer walls without a hint of enemy activity. The cloud of dust settled as the Gra Valkan vehicles slowed down. The vehicles funneled into the street that led inside the city, slowing down and presenting themselves as easy targets. 

Yet, nothing happened. Before the Gra Valkans passed through the historic gate, Flats issued an order to his forces. “Halt!” He commanded, wary of enemy ambushers hiding in the criss-crossing maze of streets less than half a mile ahead. 

After hours of anxiety, the whispers of danger had boiled over and spilled into the rest of his mind. He decided to trust his gut instinct; he had to make sure that the Fourth Armored Division wouldn’t suffer a repeat of what happened in Sonal. “Mark the first row of buildings ahead of us as targets for artillery! Send the coordinates and fire!”

A couple minutes later, Flats and his men heard the sound of whistling coming from behind them. The sound grew louder until completely ceasing, replaced with massive explosions that engulfed the marked targets with fire and shrapnel. Shards of wood and brick flew away from the destroyed targets as dark clouds of smoke and dust rose from the impact sites. 

The paranoid Flats looked around for any sign of change, even keeping an eye out for secondary explosions. He looked around, but his keen eye found nothing out of the ordinary. His concerns were alleviated by the results, but he still sent out scouts to make sure the nearby area was indeed clear. 

Eight motorcycles set forth from Flats’ forces, splitting up into groups of two as they combed the streets for any sign of enemy activity. They scanned several blocks with magic sensors, picking up no hint of hostile activity. There wasn’t even the slightest peep from manacomm transmissions, nor the sound of a single bullet being fired, nor the blast of a land mine being detonated. By all aspects, the region truly was clear.

Flats still remained unconvinced, as there was one place they hadn't checked: the interior of the buildings themselves. After picking through the rubble, his men found that the first row of buildings closest to the gate were empty, but this didn’t mean that the buildings behind them were empty as well. Exercising utmost caution, Flats directed small units to clear out the buildings.

Small squadrons of infantry supported by light tanks pushed past the buildings that were destroyed by artillery, venturing deeper into the eerie ghost town of Alue. The first set of buildings they checked were completely empty, and so were the next. Eventually, his extreme vigilance came under fire.

After hours of careful scrutiny, Flats’ superior officer became tired of the slow progress. “General Flats,” Kinley contacted him via radio, “It appears that the city is truly clear. Let us proceed with establishing a base of operations here.”

“But sir!” Flats protested, “We still have not cleared the inner city yet!”

“General, His Excellency expects results as soon as possible. We cannot dote any longer as we have before; we are on a time limit now! If you are still concerned, you may survey the rest of the city with your main forces. I expect you to be done by the time my army arrives,” Kinley warned him.

Flats felt a tinge of embarrassment at Kinley’s words, wondering if his wariness was too excessive. Still, he remained adamant and decided to accept Kinley’s suggestion. “Of course, sir. We will have the city secure by the end of the day.”

After combing a third of the city, he heeded Kinley’s advice and dedicated a larger portion of his forces to securing the city. With the areas near the base, suburbs, and outer perimeter of the city completely secure, he moved his forces toward the downtown region. It was then that his worst fears were realized.

The inaction that graced the Fourth Armored Division was violently displaced by the thuds of land mines detonating, the staccato of guns firing, and the wails of men screaming. Shafer Light Tanks went up in flames as their treads triggered mines hidden under the cobblestone and dirt streets, condemning the tank crews and nearby infantry to fiery deaths. Rockets, grenades, and bullets came flying from windows, ravaging the Gra Valkan forces that found themselves trapped on the narrow streets.

The Gra Valkan communication network was quickly overrun with voices as panicking soldiers desperately called for help. Although Flats himself was safely tucked away near the gate they had entered through earlier, he still felt incredible anguish at being ambushed. He silently cursed General Kinley for forcing him to push too quickly, blaming the deaths of hundreds of men on his superior officer’s carelessness. If he had been allowed to carefully sweep the city, this chaotic turbulence and the consequent casualties wouldn’t have occurred.

Unfortunately, he couldn’t turn back time. The best he could do was mitigate the damage being done to his forces. Resorting to his contingencies, he ordered the front-line scouts to retreat to the secured zones. “All units, retreat from downtown and regroup at designated outposts near the city’s perimeter!”

“Sir,” one of his officers called out, “Some of the Wilder crews are reporting vehicle malfunctions! They’ve fallen through the ground!” 

Just as the officer finished his report, a tank further up ahead fell through the streets, sticking halfway out of the ground like a capsizing ship. Then, it was hit by a single projectile that instantly obliterated its armor. Flats felt his jaw drop at the ghastly sight; not even their strongest panzerfausts were able to dent the armor of a Wilder. And yet, as if mocking the technological achievements of the Gra Valkas Empire, a single shoulder-fired launcher managed to do what a Wilder’s gun could not.

The shocking sight struck him twice as he realized that the shot came from a window inside what was supposed to be a secure zone. Given a mere second to wonder where the enemies came from, he had little time to react and found himself panicking. More and more buildings turned out to be garrisoned by the enemy, the Muan soldiers having somehow evaded the earlier inspections. Flats reasoned that this was likely because the Muans hid small squads inside hollowed-out walls or secret basements of the buildings, but he couldn’t act on this information and thus let the issue go.

His main concern now was damage control; he needed to get his forces out of the kill zones set up by the Muans. “All units, fall back to the outer wall! Trapped tanks are to hold back the enemy and cover our retreat!”

Throughout the battlefield, the Gra Valkan units acted on Flats’ orders. Guided by their reverence for Flats as a distinguished commander and their zealous pride as Gra Valkans, the trapped tank crews faced death without fear. Even after witnessing the ease with which the Muans destroyed Wilder tanks, the thought of evacuating from their metal coffins didn’t cross their minds. Shells flew at buildings, taking out numerous Muan guerilla fighters with every shot.

Facing suppressive fire from Gra Valkan machine guns and tank fire, the Muans holed up in the city’s fragile structures began to falter. Their attacks became less frequent and less accurate as they had to adjust their position in order to avoid certain death from the tanks below. Flats could only watch as tank after tank ignited, whole crews burning inside. Building after building crumbled in turn, collapsing with dozens of Muans inside. 

The hellish battlefield was a sight that Flats hadn’t expected to see again. Since the Gra Valkas Empire was summoned to Elysia, they encountered primitive magical civilizations with little concept of urban warfare or modern guerilla tactics. During the early days of their conquest of Leifor, they easily suppressed resistance groups who foolishly challenged armored Gra Valkan patrols with their flintlock rifles. They eventually learned from their mistakes and began to employ more underhanded tactics, like the ambush that destroyed a massive convoy, but even then he never expected the enemy to fully adapt to full-fledged industrial warfare.

Muttering under his breath, he cursed the Americans who had worked behind the scenes to derail the Gra Valkas Empire’s war plans. Seeing rocket-propelled grenades and modified incendiaries rip through the ranks of his Wilders, Flats knew now that their influence was clear as day. However, he still maintained one advantage: training.

On Yggdra, Flats was well known for blitzing through the defenses and cities of the Gra Valkas Empire’s enemies, even taking well-defended fortresses from the Divine Kingdom of Kane. Now that he knew what the enemy was planning, he decided to take advantage of his prior experience with urban warfare. Ordinarily, he wouldn’t indiscriminately shell cities due to his personal morals, but the Muans here made the mistake of evacuating Alue completely, leaving only a military force to defend it.

Despite the havoc that these ambushers had wrought upon his men, he still couldn’t help but feel sorry for the enemy combatants who were about to die without a fight. After an hour of retreating, his forces finally made it to the outer walls, far away from garrisonable buildings. He knew that clearing the city would be too inefficient, with high potential casualties and a slow progression if he sent his men toward the enemy. With this consideration in mind, he decided that there was only one other option. After ensuring that all of his men were clear from danger, he requested the complete annihilation of Alue. 

Minutes later thousands of shells descended upon the city, tearing through buildings and detonating ammunition stores and explosives hidden throughout the downtown region. Realizing Flats’ strategy, the Muan soldiers hiding in the buildings attempted to flee. Some foolishly retreated into underground basements and bunkers, only to be sealed shut by rubble. Others tried to push toward the Gra Valkan defensive perimeter in hopes of doing some damage, only to be eviscerated by machine guns trained at the city’s streets. The rest attempted to flee toward the Malmund Mountains, amassing a force to break through the minor defenses situated at the northeastern city exit. 

Unfortunately for these Muan soldiers, it was too late. On top of a constant shower of artillery snipping away at their strength, a new storm fell upon them. Massive shadows in the shape of aircraft blotted the sun, blocking sunlight and showering those beneath with a new type of light – energy from arcane-chemical explosives. Thousands of bombs fell on the city from hundreds of bombers, drowning the land below with such power that the landscape itself was charred and ripped apart. Fires raged, sending up dust and soot which combined into an intoxicating dust storm.

Alue, once a symbol of trade and cultural exchange in the Second Civilized Region, fell brutally in a single day at the hands of the Gra Valkas Empire.