Day, 14:51. My army marched along the road, and I rode in the Juggernaut, carrying supplies: food, water, medical kits, and munitions, including weapons, ammunition, and mortar rounds. I considered ordering an AT-AT, realizing Andora's high walls would make a direct assault costly, potentially decimating my forces.
"System! How much for an AT-AT with expedited production?"
"Master, the base cost of an AT-AT is 70,000 credits. With accelerated production and two pilots, the total is 95,000 credits."
"Good, I have enough. Purchase the AT-AT and deploy it to me upon completion."
"Understood, Master."
The Juggernaut led the column, followed by marching clone soldiers, interspersed with four AT-STs, two AT-TEs, and the SPMA. The SPMA's long-range capability could devastate their army from afar, but I hesitated to risk civilian deaths or infrastructure damage—it would tarnish my reputation and invite rebellions.
Soon, I spotted a cart ahead, driven by Carl. His safe return suggested the mission went smoothly. I shouted, "STOP!" and raised my palm, halting the convoy. Descending from the Juggernaut, I approached Carl, who bowed.
"Greetings, Carl! Glad to see you unharmed. Did you deliver the letter?"
"Yes, Your Majesty! I delivered the sack and letter as ordered and am returning to the village."
"Well done. What did the city's government say? Did they agree to surrender?"
"Sadly, they refused and released me," Carl said, dejected.
"Pity. Clearly, fools govern the city."
Their refusal was unsurprising. My ultimatum, like Austria-Hungary's to Serbia before World War I, was deliberately unfeasible. My technological edge—blasters and armored walkers against their swords and bows—ensured victory. Since they rejected surrender, I'd raze Andora or impose a siege, starving them or bombarding them until the citizens demanded capitulation. Alternatively, I could send spies to kidnap a family member of the city's lord, using them as leverage. Upon victory, I'd purge the aristocracy to prevent conspiracies, executing the former lord for corruption and failure to protect the citizens, cementing public trust in my absolute rule.
Twenty minutes later, we were 200 meters from Andora and set up camp to prepare for the siege. I ordered a halt, and clones unloaded supplies from the Juggernaut. Within 15 minutes, a field kitchen was established, distributing Russian military rations from the Chechen War: the "Mountain Ration." Each pack provided two days' sustenance and 5,000 calories, ideal for my clones. Costing only 0.1 credit per box in the System shop, feeding my 11,000-strong army every two days cost 1,100 credits. Once the kitchen was ready, I instructed the supply clones to distribute rations. An hour later, every soldier was eating. I summoned the sergeant appointed in the village. He arrived in two minutes, saluted, and we discussed battle plans.
"Your Majesty, I propose a nighttime assault after rest. The enemy will be disoriented, giving us an advantage!"
"A solid idea, but their walls are high, requiring time to scale, costing many lives. Their 25,000-strong garrison, typical of a strategic trade and supply hub, outnumbers our 11,000. Your plan requires a larger force."
"Understood! What's our strategy?"
"In one day, we'll attack. By then, they'll likely receive reinforcements, but our arrival tomorrow ensures victory with minimal losses." I referred to the AT-AT's delivery, which would safely transport 40 machine gunners. Positioned beside the walls, the AT-AT would open its side doors, allowing gunners behind metal shields to eliminate wall defenders. The SPMA would shell the city, AT-TEs would target the gates, enabling AT-STs to enter and clear enemy forces. Their lack of countermeasures against our technology guaranteed success.
"Understood, Your Majesty! I'll prepare the troops for your plan!"
"Excellent. You're dismissed, Sergeant. Fulfill your duty."
"Yes, sir! Glory to the Emperor!"
"Glory to the Empire," I replied. He left the command tent. Night had fallen, and I prepared to rest for tomorrow's grueling day.
*City of Andora*
Wilmor stood on the city walls, gazing at the enemy army, wondering if he'd survive. Other aristocrats believed victory was assured due to the high walls, predicting the enemy would lose half their forces scaling them, bolstered by the 25,000-man garrison and imminent reinforcements: 50,000 royal troops and Princess Janet, an SS-rank adventurer. With 75,000 soldiers and a near-divine warrior, they felt confident. Guildmaster Heinrich approached, and they conversed.
"Do you think we'll win?" Heinrich asked.
"I'm unsure. They defeated Gustav's team and a 10,000-man army with just 1,000 soldiers. We'd need at least 100,000 to match them."
"What? 100,000 to defeat them? Are you mad?" Heinrich exclaimed, stunned by the figure—a quarter of Andora's population.
"Heinrich, we face a cunning foe. They're camped 190–200 meters away, too far for a typical siege. They're waiting for something—perhaps a weapon to ensure victory."
"But what could it be?"
"My 'Eagle Eye' skill spotted massive contraptions in their ranks. They're likely our real threat."
"Do you know how they work?" Heinrich asked, baffled.
"No, I've never seen them before. We might not survive, remembered as a city crushed by a nonexistent state." Their talk was interrupted by a soldier with news.
"Lord Wilmor! Good news! Reinforcements from the capital have arrived, along with Princess Janet!" Wilmor sighed in relief, grasping a slim chance to repel the enemy he deemed barbaric for their threats.
"Wonderful. Summon Princess Janet; we must discuss our defense."
"Yes, sir!" The knight departed.
Twenty minutes later, a 23-year-old female knight arrived. Princess Janet Oldenburg was stunning, with golden hair and mithril armor accentuating her moderate figure. Beloved for her beauty and achievements, she was strong, intelligent, and versed in languages, arithmetic, alchemy, and physics—a prodigy.
"Lord Wilmor, my father sent me to repel the enemy attacking Andora. What's their strength?" she asked sternly, hand on her sword, adjusting her hair.
"Lady Janet, our observations indicate the enemy has just over 10,000 soldiers."
"What? You can't handle these fools? Andora is a fortress-city! It takes at least 60,000 to breach it. No one's ever captured it, and now a mere 10,000 rabble threaten you? Are you joking?"
"Princess, we mustn't underestimate them."
"I understand the situation. Their small army suggests they possess something to aid their assault."
"Indeed. We sent a 10,000-man army and S-rank adventurers, but all were killed. They sent a letter demanding surrender and a sack with the adventurers' heads."
"So, you planned to surrender? Are you a traitor, Lord Wilmor?" Janet drew her sword to his throat.
"No! Of course not! That's why I sought your father's aid!"
"Hmph. Battle is likely tomorrow, so prepare, Viscount Wilmor." She sheathed her sword and left. Wilmor sensed something momentous awaited.
*Next Day. Andrey's Perspective*
A day passed—time to launch our operation to elevate my Empire. It was 7–8 a.m. The AT-AT arrived with 40 machine gunners, as planned. The SPMA positioned its cannons, AT-TEs dug tank trenches for cover, and AT-STs stood at the rear, ready to charge once the gates fell. The Juggernaut would transport 300 clones and fire missiles. My army was fed, spirited, and silently awaited my command.
"Commence Operation 'Sprout Amid Ashes'! ARTILLERY, BEGIN TWO-HOUR BOMBARDMENT!" Five minutes later, SPMA cannons fired, launching massive energy projectiles that exploded in Andora, audible from our position. Ten minutes in, smoke rose—fires had started.
"ALL AT-TEs, FIRE ON THE GATES!" The walker-tanks targeted the gates, which held firm initially, though accuracy faltered.
"AT-AT, ADVANCE! APPROACH THE WALL AND TURN SIDEWAYS! OPEN SIDE DOORS LATER FOR GUNNERS TO ELIMINATE WALL DEFENDERS!" The AT-AT lumbered forward, leaving massive footprints. Enemy arrows fell short, and my cannons' range kept me safe.
*City of Andora*
The city was calm, with patrols guarding the walls. Wilmor, Heinrich, and Janet monitored the enemy, vigilant.
"The enemy hasn't moved," Heinrich noted, eyes fixed on their ranks.
"This unnerves me. They're preparing something," Wilmor said, using 'Eagle Eye.'
"Likely, they're hesitant due to their small numbers. Our 75,000-strong army is five to six times larger. Victory will be easy," Janet said confidently.
"Wait! There's movement in their ranks!" Wilmor said, growing anxious.
*SFX: Distant booms*
"What's that sound?" Heinrich asked.
"I don't know, maybe—" *Explosion of a house below the wall* Janet was cut off.
Within a minute, whistles and explosions erupted, sparking panic. Knights sought cover, aiding civilians trapped in debris as fires spread.
"WHAT WAS THAT? LONG-RANGE MAGIC?" Janet shouted, stunned, having underestimated the enemy and suffering heavy losses.
The wall shook as blue energy bolts from AT-TEs struck, leaving dents and cracks. The trio turned to see a colossal four-legged white machine approaching, mistaking it for a tamed beast.
"READY ARROWS! TARGET THAT MONSTER! SHOW THEM OUR STEEL!" Janet rallied the knights, who roared. Their arrows bounced off the AT-AT, which continued firing, shaking the wall.
"Damn! Arrows are useless! MAGES, HIT IT WITH MAGIC! USE YOUR STRONGEST SPELLS!" Mages cast water, earth, and fire. Water and earth failed, but fire left a dent. Realizing explosive magic had some effect, they prepared another volley.
"ONE MORE SALVO TO FINISH IT!" Janet shouted, but the AT-AT turned sideways. Thinking it was retreating, they cheered, unaware it was deploying troops. Side panels opened, revealing white-armored clones with shields and blasters.
"IT'S A SIEGE TOWER! PREPARE FOR ASSAULT!" Wilmor yelled, mistaken—it was a troop transport.
Clones opened fire, killing anyone exposed. Mages and knights fell, riddled with blaster bolts, tumbling from the walls as corpses. Janet, Heinrich, and Wilmor were stunned by the enemy's firepower, facing an unprecedented foe. An explosion below signaled the gates' destruction—a deceptive maneuver to breach the city. The trio ordered troops to the gates, but four white bipedal machines—AT-STs—entered, slaughtering defenders and crushing crowds. Soldiers screamed:
"RUN! THEY'RE DEMONS!"
"THEY'LL KILL US ALL! I'M OUT!"
"I DON'T WANT TO DIE… ARGH!"
Janet drew her sword, using her "Ram's Strength" skill to strike an AT-ST, igniting it. Satisfied, she noted three remained, nearly annihilating her army. A massive five-wheeled machine—the Juggernaut—approached, firing glowing missiles that exploded near her troops. Knocked back and concussed, Janet's ears rang, delaying her recovery. Five minutes later, she saw the enemy army march triumphantly into Andora, accompanied by music.
*(Author's Note: Play "The Imperial March" from Star Wars while reading this section for atmosphere.)*
A man in a black cloak stood on a pedestal as his soldiers raised a red flag with the white emblem of their Empire. Janet realized defeat. The city burned, buildings collapsed, corpses littered the streets. Rising, wounded, her mithril armor shattered, she saw Heinrich's perforated body—brutally killed. Limping to the square, she couldn't fathom how 75,000 knights lost to a 10,000-man force. She saw Wilmor captured. Enemy soldiers dragged civilians from homes, forcing them to kneel with blasters to their heads, separating children from families. *Barbarians*, Janet thought—no, worse, demons from the abyss. The cloaked man's sinister laughter echoed, a sound she'd never forget.
He pointed at her, saying something. His soldiers approached, striking her face with a blaster butt, knocking her unconscious.