Chronicles of Two Powers

Chapter 26 - Battle of Haedleigh II

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A mansion overlooks the beautiful countryside of the northern regions. Beyond the glass panels, social festivities play endlessly through the evening. He gazed towards the midnight moon; the night was still young. Bright and full, he gives himself a smoke as he glances behind. A soldier in a formal uniform approaches.

"The General has arrived. Shouldn't you plan to see him? "

The officer asked, but he didn't reply and quickly turned his back. "Yeah, just let me finish this before I can get back..."

He had a moment to reflect on whether the mistakes made for this country were entirely his, the prince's. Ever since his violent takeover of the capital parliament and the kingdom itself a decade before, everything has gone to shit.

What did he really know? He was just a soldier. One who had already seen far more than anyone should. He'd watched wars come and go, but nothing like this. Two fronts are burning at once. The South is collapsing. And now the Alervon and her allies are hammering the Empire from the north.

Rumours flew that the Russians were tearing through the southern territories with a rapidity no one had dreamed possible. Every day, they pressed nearer. Every day, the line contracted. It was as if the Empire was being consumed.

From his vantage point, he overheard two officers murmuring behind a battered stone wall.

"I got word Goulrich Castle went silent. Not even a flare. And the passage is open now, wide enough for the Alervon and their allies to march straight through to Haedleigh. They're sending veterans, sure, but half of them are underequipped. Prince Gourmet keeps hoarding the best gear for the capital's defence..."

"Yeah, I believe it," the second officer muttered. His voice shook, not from cold. "I fought the Vadnicks in the south. With those useless rifles we were issued? I couldn't stop a damn thing. They overran our trench faster than we could reload. My hands still shake just thinking about it... that buzzing sound..."

He swallowed hard.

"Gods... those little machines flying overhead, killing our men one by one. And the bigger ones? They shredded our tanks like they were made of paper."

"How long does the Empire expect us to survive against forces like that?" the first officer whispered. "Our air force is useless. I heard entire squadrons got wiped before they even reached altitude. Shot down by those blue devils..."

The second officer let out his breath in a defeated sigh.

"Draco or His Majesty. Someone has to end this damned war. We're losing men faster every hour. And all we're doing is holding still. Waiting to die."

"Jylon Republic is going to abandon us at this point. We're losing equipment fast, and the Thurmifiman Empire refused to send any weapons to us to maintain neutrality..."

"We'll be dead less than a week from now..."

Morale among their own officers is at an all-time low, and it is unlikely that any requests for changes will be acted upon; worse outcomes are probable as time progresses. With the air force destroyed and the rest of the navy completely gone, their merchant ships are being sunk, and the Jolonians consider leaving. Perhaps committing suicide is quicker than dying slowly and painfully as the enemy invades their homeland.