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Command Room
8:00 P.M.
"Sir, Hawk Three is picking up some movement by the n.o.bian encampment. Owl Two is confirming this; they're picking up large block formations of troops and artillery marching on our position."
"Have our fighters begin their sorties on the enemy forces. Target their artillery pieces and the larger troop cl.u.s.ters. Save the 10s and Apaches until they get closer, and have our ground forces ready to engage. They are within range of our MLRS and Howitzer units, so we should commence bombardment of the enemy positions once our fighters complete their first attack run."
"Yes sir!"
8 miles from Fort Was.h.i.+ngton
8:20 P.M.
The n.o.bian troops marched in their specified formations, trailing behind the decoys created by their mages' illusionary magic. Quickly moving through the plains, the n.o.bians halted as they heard a thunderous noise shatter the skies.
The objects were difficult to see in the dark, but based on the blinking lights on the flying objects, the n.o.bians could discern an outline that resembled an arrowhead. The otherworldly contraptions reminded the n.o.bians of Mekkanese planes, but these were far louder and faster in comparison.
The American jets flew overhead, before abruptly ascending at incredible speeds, unmatched by even the most powerful of dragons. The n.o.bians could only stare in incredulity.
"So fast! What kind of magic are they capable of!?"
"Ridiculous!"
"Impossible!"
"What are those things that are falling?"
"Those look like… bombs! They're targeting the decoys!"
BOOM! BOOM!
Flashes of light erupted in front of the marching soldiers, engulfing the illusions in flames and debris. The resulting explosions from the various bombs dropped from the thunderous arrowheads were ma.s.sive, stunning the advancing n.o.bians. Each bomb was capable of obliterating a whole company's worth of soldiers, leaving craters where the illusions once were.
"If it weren't for General Nosh's brilliance, we would have all been dead," a commander remarked.
"Keep pus.h.i.+ng! We can't waste the time the illusions have bought us! Mages, conjure additional forces!"
Blue light s.h.i.+ned from the mana gem carriages as the cargo was activated by the mages. In an instant, several more decoy companies fizzled into existence in front of the n.o.bian forces. Hoping the flying monsters weren't fooled, the n.o.bians pushed forth.
Meanwhile…
At Fort Was.h.i.+ngton
The expertly cloaked ambush team snuck into the base, using short-range teleportation spells. Luckily for the n.o.bians, the section of the American perimeter that they had snuck into had no thermal imaging equipment; the active cloaking of the mages could not be detected by night vision systems. Now behind enemy lines, the mages began summoning earth golems in front of the defensive perimeter.
—
"Sir, enemies detected at the western gate!"
"Wipe them out!"
"We can't detect them on our thermal equipment!"
"Launch flares!"
Miniature suns began to illuminate the sky, providing clear targets for the defenders.
tatatatata!
Overwhelming noises from machine guns began to fill the atmosphere as the stationed defenders unleashed their firepower upon the enemy. Due to the natural properties of the earth golems, they were able to withstand tens of bullet impacts; shooting the earth golems was no different than shooting a sandbag. The defenders quickly discovered that destroying the limbs to incapacitate the golems was the most efficient method of eliminating the threats.
—
"They are killing the earth golems too fast! What should we do?"
The leader of the ambush squad pondered for a few seconds before giving his answer. Considering the squad's limited available mana and natural mana regeneration rates, the squad would run out of energy before reinforcements arrived. Therefore, mana consumption must be staggered.
"We will send waves of golems every two minutes. Additionally, we will summon more mirages in place of actual golems to conserve mana."
And with this command, the fighting continued.
4 miles from Fort Was.h.i.+ngton
8:40 P.M.
The n.o.bian forces closed the distance as fast as possible, receiving a.s.sistance from their mages' rejuvenation magic in order to boost their speed and stamina. The three detachments involved in the frontal a.s.sault could see the lights of Fort Was.h.i.+ngton in the distance, propelling them to greater speeds as they yearned for the glory of combat. This motivational factor, in reality, was just a mask for the true motivating factor of the army's charge; the longer they were out of range of the base, the greater the risk of annihilation.
Having rearmed and resupplied, the enemy flying monsters returned to the battle. This time, they were accompanied by slower monsters that flew at a low alt.i.tude, and rotary winged aircraft, similar to the strange beast with the booming voices that they had encountered the past few days. The faster planes performed an attack run similar to the previous one, dropping bombs on high value targets.
This time however, the bombs completely avoided the mirages of companies and artillery placed in front of the main force. Instead, the explosives flew toward the scattered lines of the n.o.bian troops.
"Good thing we scattered our forces.. Wait, why aren't the bombs exploding?"
The bombs released from the American jets seemingly went silent, with the n.o.bians desperately searching the skies. One of the soldiers, who had good eyesight in the dark, spotted hundreds of smaller objects falling from the sky. This realization would be his last thought, as his consciousness and those of his comrades were instantly erased by the explosive power of the weapons. The unfortunate souls who died in this bombing run were annihilated by CBU-type cl.u.s.ter bombs.
The commanders, further back in the formation, witnessed the destruction of half of a detachment. The scene that unfolded was monstrous. To the primitive n.o.bians, it was as if a volcano had erupted beneath their troops, with miniature explosions swarming the immense swath of land that these troops once occupied.
Where 5,000 men and carriages once stood, only a blackened surface littered with smoldering debris and charred body parts remained.
"What just happened?!"
"Are they in league with the Heralds of Sola?!"
"How did they know to avoid the decoys?!"
"Keep moving forward!"
Unbeknownst to the n.o.bians, the lack of thermal signatures on the illusions alerted their enemy to their cunning decoy strategy. Radar anomalies a.s.sociated with the first attack run were a.n.a.lyzed, and new targets were designated.
The n.o.bians barely had time to recover from their shock. Immediately after the bombings ceased, they encountered a twisted artist, who used the ground as his canvas and the blood of n.o.bians as paint.
BRRRRRRRRRRT!