If there is one thing that can pass both ruthlessly and swiftly, it is time. And in less than 30 hours after the shift change, the shield of the fortification in this border buffer zone had already been pierced. However, it was not due to its inherent weakness, but because of enemy artillery fire. The sky had just begun to brighten, while the entire area was still savoring the peaceful scent after a night's rest beneath a star-filled sky, when the first shot was fired. The entire fortification was shaken awake by the overwhelming force of the enemy's nuclear cannon barrels. Stretching about a kilometer along the red mist, hundreds of dark green nuclear energy shells from Organization's artillery relentlessly pounded this place. They came from nearly every direction, and it seemed that was not all. Outside, the protective shield trembled under the pressure of the enemy's firepower, gradually fading away with each passing second.
Inside the fortification, the atmosphere was no better. The alarm sirens blared madly, drowning out all other sounds, while the red warning lights bathed the entire corridor, turning the base into a true furnace. Soldiers in their combat undersuits rushed continuously in and out of the equipment depots. Each step was decisive, each breath suppressed, as they dashed to every department to retrieve what was needed. One soldier entered, and a power armor stepped out. The high-tech armors whirred sharply as they powered up, their visors lighting up when the soldiers confirmed their identities. Magically charged magazines shimmering with red particles were loaded into the guns. Indeed, everything was ready for the overture to be sounded. The defensive cannons atop the towers began to grind their gears, rotate their barrels, and unleash dazzling magical rounds into the suspicious dark zones ahead. Nation had begun to fight back.
Along the corridors, engulfed in dust and flashing light, dozens of soldiers in high-tech armor fired incessantly forward. Brilliant energy streams intertwined in the air, but they hopelessly dissipated before the brutal firepower of the enemy. On the contrary, each enemy artillery shell gradually proved effective, as they began piercing the first protective shield of the nation bloc, leaving cracks and tiny holes on the glowing red shield's surface.
"Duck down!" Zhong immediately pushed the soldier beside him down. A shell zipped over both their heads before exploding just behind them.
"Damn it! It's breached?" Wang shouted while reloading.
"How long does it take to reload?" Shi-long yelled, gripping his sniper rifle tightly and aiming at distant cannons.
"Good question, but I'm no tech officer!" Kong-sang replied, finger squeezing the trigger.
Both sides kept trading blows as the energy shells from one side exploded, while the other's shield gradually filled with bullet holes. The situation completely tilted when that sturdy shield was finally shattered.
"Hold the line!" Shi-long ducked behind the corridor wall to avoid fire, watching others who were simultaneously firing back and dodging bullets.
"Any other choice?" Wang sneered while reloading.
"Looks like those bastards are advancing," Zhong reported, updating information via the comms channel.
"How about some sashimi? Like old times!" Shi-long asked his friends.
"Four hundred meters? Too far?" Kong-sang questioned.
"A bit close, seven hundred it is! The reward is their screams," Wang laughed, adjusting his scope.
"Okay, seven hundred it is!" Shi-long folded the front part of his sniper rifle, switching it into a specialized assault rifle.
"Another day on the wall. Nobody lets me stand outside, huh?" Zhong sighed and smiled, then readjusted his specialized scope.
With that, all of them peeked over the wall simultaneously, raising their magical rifles. Shi-long fired first, recalling the old feeling when hitting the target fully depended on the user's skill, not on any specialized scope. When the first bullet streaked out, it struck perfectly between the enemy's armor plates. The first enemy to cross the 700-meter boundary from the wall collapsed, while the flying device on his armor remained operational.
"For the nation bloc, for the emperor!" Wang shouted loudly before firing at another enemy.
"And for Nation!" Everyone shouted in unison and opened fire.
No orders were needed, just a single command phrase, and all members understood clearly. Fire!
Magical rifles began to blaze. Sharp, deep red beams scattered along the corridors of the fortification and the defensive bunkers on the walls. The first shots hit their marks. Although each bullet only weakened the defensive energy field and certainly was not enough to take down an enemy outright, the front of the tidal wave immediately slowed. The bodies in those armors were forced to halt under continuous fire from the fortification, while others fell backward after colliding with comrades. Instantly, they sought advantageous positions and returned fire. It seemed that although the shield had collapsed, neither side truly held complete advantage.
Enemy firepower responded fiercely and simultaneously. They fired even as they surged through the broken shield on their flying devices. Each nuclear shot slammed into walls, railings, and any shields on the defenders' armors. Once within effective range, Organization's more precise and powerful shots targeted the border guard forces directly. It was clear their weapons must be equipped with motion stabilization systems. In nearby corridors, some brothers were blasted back from the walls, heads blown off or chests exploded as the blue energy streams destroyed their armor shields. Soldiers kept swapping magazines, growing anxious as their personal particle shields thinned due to dwindling reserve particles. Although the enemy's front ranks were being torn apart, the main force still surged from the dust clouds. And they were more numerous than expected. Perhaps even more than that!
"Get ready, brothers!" Wang crouched by the wall, reloading while activating his magical dagger.
"Yeah! Let's lick a few!" Kong-sang laughed loudly, simultaneously activating his flying system and magical saw.
However, Zhong immediately stopped them, announcing that a retreat order had arrived.
"Retreat? Boss's order?" Shi-long asked while still aiming.
"No, it's Commander Stratos's order!" Zhong replied.
"He already gave the command? Then it's clear!" Wang nodded.
Immediately, Wang sent the retreat order to all soldiers in the corridor area. Although no one fully understood, everyone complied simultaneously.
"Hey Wang, Zhong, what's going on? We can't just pull out of here," Shi-long began questioning his friends.
"The commander gave the order. This is no longer your playground," Zhong said while confirming the retreat order on his watch.
"You say retreat, just retreat? Do you know how important this place is?" Shi-long yelled at the squad leader. Yet Wang did not react, only reloaded and activated his flying system. All information about the rally point had been sent, and soldiers in adjacent corridors had already begun moving toward the designated position.
"Hey, you have to explain—" Before he could finish, Kong-sang grabbed Shi-long by the collar and pulled him away from the area.
Under Wang's lead, everyone simultaneously activated their flying systems and withdrew from the position they had just defended.
Outside the fortification, Organization's artillery assault units continued to pound relentlessly at the remaining shields in the surrounding areas, while the vanguard forces gradually infiltrated the core of the fortification. Each power armor flew low, simultaneously firing back at the stubborn enemies along the fortification's corridors. Unlike the enemy's erratic shots, every time the trigger was pulled, an enemy up ahead had to duck as their armor took a hit. Each individual adjusted their flight path, dodging enemy fire while counterattacking from directions few expected. Although some comrades had been hit or lost their ability to maneuver, retreating at this point was something that even the most cowardly and spineless would refuse to do.
"Put more pressure on the flanks! Penetrate the center! Concentrate artillery fire on the remaining areas! Maintain formation and push forward!" The orders of a female commander kept ringing through the internal communication channels.
Groups of soldiers immediately landed or attacked key areas with near-perfect precision, all following the established tactics closely. Thanks to prior reconnaissance, Legion 4 had almost full knowledge of every gap in Nation's formation. As a result, the orders laid out specific moves, having memorized the entire buffer zone like the back of their hand. Artillery shells continued to be fired directly at the enemy's remaining positions, with the goal no longer merely to weaken and destroy the energy shields and outermost defenses of the buffer zone, but to ensure that anything meant to be overloaded would indeed be overloaded. Although the border guard forces fought fiercely, they were forced to retreat and abandon their fortifications under the overwhelming firepower of Organization. Riding the momentum, soldiers in power armor surged into the inner areas of the fortification to gradually seize control and dominate the battlefield.
Along the corridors and alleys inside the fortification, gunfights erupted fiercely. Despite their retreat, the national guards continued firing back, even as retreat orders blared loudly through the communication channels. At every corner, energy rounds zipped by—sometimes embedding in the faux-stone walls, other times accidentally hitting particle conduits, causing Thema particles to spill across the pathways, staining many areas red. Like persistent cockroaches, the rear guard of the defenders kept firing at the legion's power armors. But that was not what Legion 4 cared about. Their engines kept buzzing, weapons stayed hot, and pressure remained constant.
"Seize the command area, take control of the shield! Secure all their artillery!" Similar orders kept echoing through the communication channels inside each soldier's helmet.
The last remnants of the enemy were now swept clean from the fortification. They scattered and fled like cowardly crickets under the absolute power of Organization's brave warriors. Just 30 minutes after the vanguard broke through the red mist, all warning lights across the defense lines went dark, as even the darkness bowed before the light of justice and resilience. The command room and what was once the enemy's headquarters were now completely empty, leaving only the clicking sounds of pioneer technical officers whose skilled fingers flew like wind over control panels to reprogram and master the defense system.
Along the corridors, the earlier gunfire had ceased, leaving only tiny marks of intense skirmishes. Moreover, the proud footsteps and roaring engines of the vanguard's flying devices echoed throughout the area. They stood as a testament to the absolute strength of the people on the old western continent. Now, the fortification of Nation was entirely in Organization's hands—belonging to all of them. This would become another glorious chapter etched into history, marking the beginning of a battle where predecessors had failed. This was not just a simple victory; it was a heroic declaration from the new era's heroes, those who had sworn to crush the scum clinging to dark magic. With an indomitable fire burning in their chests, Legion 4 would carve their name into this land and stand ready for the glorious battles ahead. But was this all there was?
"Two hours, forty-seven minutes, twenty-one seconds… Faster by two hours, twelve minutes, thirty-nine seconds. Congratulations, Commander!"
On a high hill in the buffer zone dividing the two nation blocs, an energy spear was planted deep into the ground. It measured nearly 1.8 meters long, with a handle adjusted for flexible use while the spearhead combined durable t-carbon metal and a glowing beam powered by an energy pack. Along the spear's shaft was the silhouette of a warrior in silver command armor. Since it was merely a color simulation, the armor did not reflect light, but the blue veins running across it shone brightly under the sun. The owner of this armor was none other than Lunamaria Whieblod, also the author of the vivid scene beneath her boots. She stood tall on the hill, silently observing every development below to ensure the brave men were following the planned strategy. She remained motionless with arms crossed, even as blue nuclear energy flared from her beloved spear. Glory was approaching, but was it truly so? Suddenly, her eyelids twitched behind her helmet visor as a notification of good news came from the AI assistant. This rapid strike campaign, a daring operation of the entire legion, had succeeded—and Lunamaria knew it well. Yet, at this moment, inside the war goddess's chest, a cold sensation crept down her spine before biting into her heart. Was it really that simple? A question flashed through her mind, enough to make anyone who had faced the battlefield pause and reflect on this reality. Under the sun god's witness, this victory was absolute. However, in those violet eyes, a deep darkness quietly spread. Then she murmured something and lightly tapped the air, sliding her finger across the hologram control panel to send an urgent order. In a moment of stillness, as if the universe itself bowed, it granted the female commander the smile of fate. Lunamaria stood there—not as the victor, but as one who had nearly touched glory. A cruel title that made the whole world ponder the meaning at the boundary between success and failure.
Less than five minutes after the retreat order was issued, across all rear areas of the fortification, red energy beams simultaneously rained down on targets, always focusing on familiar prey. Though unable to reenter, the vanguard troops or those lucky enough to escape understood one truth: the rest would hardly survive. Fortunately, technical officers promptly recalibrated the magical shield system. Instantly, the shield was raised again, blocking all attacks from within the border. Was it certain? The shield had just been restored when the dough-like devices along the corridor pillars simultaneously exploded. Immediately, the entire area collapsed as domino-like columns toppled under the explosive pressure. The command room could no longer hold its center and fell as well, taking with it the lives of many sons. The shield was silently disabled once more, and magical artillery continued to pour down like a torrential rain.
"Retreat from the frontline immediately! We are ambushed!" The commander pulled her spear from the ground and charged straight into the combat zone. Though the retreat order had been executed, some would lose the chance to reunite with their loved ones.
However, other explosions suddenly erupted before she could reach the front. They caused the ground around the fortifications to collapse entirely. Indeed, the entire small-radius area had been rigged with magical mines aimed at burying the legion's vanguard. The explosions rang out, interspersed with artillery, explosives, and mines. Then suddenly, fortification blocks collapsed, completely burying unlucky soldiers who failed to escape. Although the armors were designed to withstand various weapon damages, they might prove too fragile to protect soldiers from the collapse of massive structures.
"Damn it! Is this bastard's house a bomb factory?" Lunamaria cursed loudly as she landed outside the fortification alongside the energy shield.
"Attention all! Switch tactics to route B36. Prepare to engage the enemy!" She growled, activating the spear in her hand, mentally welcoming the despairing foes.
Soldiers in power armor immediately activated their jet systems upon receiving the order. Energy shields on their forearms glowed, enveloping parts of their bodies in flickering blue light. Close-combat weapons like plasma saw blades and energy swords roared sharply, ready to slice through any armor. Following their commander, they swiftly moved through the recently devastated terrain while the shield protected them from the artillery barrage. Occasionally, some scanned for mounds, broken walls, or ruined bunkers to seize strategic positions, recharging their shields and following the tactics precisely.
As the artillery ceased, hundreds of magical rounds erupted from within the border, rushing straight at the legion. Yet Lunamaria only needed to adjust her flight path, tilting her silver armor gracefully to weave through the energy beams like dancing on the edge of life and death. The magical shots whistled past her helmet, embedding into other targets behind to trigger dazzling explosions. Not everyone possessed such excellent maneuvering skills.
Before her, a battalion of power armors appeared, brimming with fighting spirit, charging forward like beasts ready to feast. They resembled Legion 4, equipped with diverse gear—from sharp energy swords for close combat to long-range plasma rifles. But their weapons were not merely layers of e-carbon or glowing green nuclear energy; they wielded deep red energy streams sparkling with magical particles.
Charging with spear raised, she thrust straight into an unlucky enemy's chest. Spinning the handle, she blocked a ranged attack. Then with a swift swing, a head rolled on the ground. She kept swinging, defeating enemies one by one. Each "whoosh" on the battlefield meant a scumbag fell. They might die or not, but they would surely remember today's pain. Yet life rarely unfolds so beautifully.
"12 o'clock, above!" The assistant system alerted urgently, instantly adjusting her armor to step back.
In that instant, a madman lunged, his sword stabbing fiercely into the ground. Thanks to the AI assistant, she narrowly escaped death. Seizing the opportunity was always a commander's move. Immediately, her spear sliced through the air, advancing toward the reckless attacker. However, he dodged lightly and struck her armor with the sword's pommel. Surprised by the blow, she jerked back but quickly regained control of her body. Stepping back, she began scrutinizing the bold enemy. She clearly saw his armor—an exclusive command set like hers. A dark blue-black suit with golden details, red energy bands running along the torso, and jet thrusters on the back. On his left shoulder, a cloak and insignia identified a force she knew well—a familiar emblem with a large shield in front and crossed swords behind, topped with a crown. Inside the shield was a bold W and the embossed text N.A.T.I.O.N Guard. What surprised the commander most was the pair of swords he wielded, each adorned with a bright gem on the handle.
"Dual swords? Another kid trying to play commander?" Lunamaria snorted, mocking herself and the system.
Years of campaigning from west to east, south to north, from age seventeen to commanding a legion at barely twenty-three, she knew the uselessness of such a combination. She did not deny it looked flashy and impressive, but its combat effectiveness was zero. Moreover, it was a one-handed longsword combined with a katana. What was this? Cultural fusion or a poser trying to look edgy? She thought to herself, snorted, then adjusted her stance. Perhaps she should toy a little with this brat. Raising her spear, the commander was ready and challenged her opponent.
Yet everything deviated from her plan. As soon as it began, he rushed forward and slashed down. The spear blocked two close-range strikes by a hair's breadth, but a knee strike forced her to step back several paces.
"Damn it! This brat!!!" she cursed.
The soldier pressed on, lunging again, brandishing his dual swords that drew two red streaks beneath the magical particle field. The commander twisted her wrist, making the spear flash as its tip aimed at the empty space on the right. She neither retreated nor dodged, only tilted slightly and swung a perfect arc, blocking each of his strikes. The clash of metal rang sharply. He did not stop. His sword spun and slashed from multiple directions. The right blade aimed for her shoulder while the left stabbed at her chest. Lunamaria moved continuously, her feet gliding lightly on the ground as she spun the spear into a circle of light, pushing back both blades with harsh "clang" sounds. After timing perfectly, the spearhead thrust straight toward the enemy's weak spot between neck and chest. However, he tilted his head slightly and raised the left blade, deflecting the spear just centimeters from his throat, sparks flying from the impact.
"Organization scum sending women to the front?" The voice from his armor was automatically translated by her system.
Feeling her pride insulted, she gritted her teeth in anger. Tightening her grip, her deadly gaze scanned all data on her HUD, as if reading his every breath. Then the commander stomped forward at an incredible speed. The spear flashed blue as it stabbed the vicious soldier's chest. Each strike was precise, fueled by her will and desire to crush the insult.
The enemy commander immediately raised his left sword, making the red steel vibrate to block the spear. Sparks flew again but failed to illuminate his hidden face. He twisted, sweeping the left sword in an arc to push the spear aside, creating space to counterattack. Wasting no time, his right sword slashed diagonally toward her shoulder—a fast, brutal strike carrying destructive force as if to end the fight instantly.
Lunamaria stepped back half a pace, rotating the spear to sweep and block the blade just centimeters away. The clash echoed again, mingling with the shouts of fighters nearby. Catching her breath, she lifted her head and locked eyes with the foe. After their exchanges, she began to read the rhythm of his fighting style. That brat used the left sword defensively while exploiting the other for offense—a foolish combination but somehow perfectly balanced between attack and defense. She stared at his armor, sensing he too had noticed the subtlety in her strikes. Each stab, each sweep was swift and efficient without wasted motion.
Suddenly, he retreated and pulled out a pair of pistols from his hip. In seconds, he unleashed a barrage of magical bullets forcing her to spin the spear to block all attacks. Then she suddenly leapt to the right, drew her rifle from behind, and squeezed the trigger. Each shot fired but none struck him. His pistols kept spitting near-perfect magical rounds, intercepting every attempt by the commander. Every time her rifle flashed, he responded instantly. It was a breathtaking scene of bullets colliding midair.
"What the hell??? That brat... how???" Lunamaria wondered, witnessing the unbelievable.
Before she could react, he adjusted his aim and unleashed another hail of bullets. She dodged, her silver armor sliding lightly on the ground, blocking some bullets with the spear while deflecting others. They exploded, creating white smoke in the air. But that was not all. Suddenly, he charged through the smoke. His dual magical swords reappeared from his cloak, glowing red as he swung again, dragging the fight back into close quarters. Unfortunately, "defeat" was not in her vocabulary. Spinning swiftly, she swept her rifle to block his left blade with the stock. At the same time, her jetpack kicked back a few steps, creating enough distance to counterattack. With that agility, she exerted indirect pressure on the enemy commander, forcing him to hold position. Then both continuously switched attack styles, alternating between close and ranged combat, neither gaining absolute advantage. However, gradually she realized that fast, clean strikes could not defeat this opponent. The man before her was not only physically strong but also highly adaptable on the battlefield, unlike those she had defeated in past campaigns.
The fatal flaw soon revealed itself. After minutes of combat, she carelessly fell into the rhythm of the brat. He suddenly stabbed upward, aiming straight for her abdomen. Luckily, the system responded, pulling her back instantly. After that critical moment, Lunamaria vowed not to get caught in his pace again and made a decision. In a flash, she retreated to a safe distance, threw a smoke grenade to cover, and ordered a tactical withdrawal over the comms. She also fired a flare into the sky to signal the retreat order.
After seeing the enemy withdraw, the dark blue-armored soldier ordered his troops not to pursue. Then his jetpack activated, flying him back to the fortification. After surveying the area, he removed his helmet and adjusted the inner collar.
"Hey Stratos, what's your plan for that wounded prisoner down there?" A soldier approached, pointing toward the fortification with one hand while removing his helmet mask with the other.
"Rescue them and return to the border! The rest, let Company I handle, Wang!"
Wang laughed heartily, a bright smile lighting up his typically broad Chainin face with a slightly bulbous nose and the square jaw common among those in their forties. After laughing, Wang stood at attention to receive orders before flying toward the fort's rubble.
He simply nodded slightly, then fixed his gaze on the buffer zone. Silent and thoughtful, the dancing light played across his sharp face and moderately high nose. No one would have guessed that this unblemished, unscarred man had just kicked those across the border back to their homeland. Even more amusing was that no one could tell if this U30 was of North Asian or Southeast Asian origin, as both were reflected in every feature of his face. Certainly, no one had time for such trivial matters.
"All units prepare to withdraw!" Stratos announced over the comms, adjusting the automatic translation device in his earpiece.
"Next time, don't think you'll run so easily!" He muttered after finishing adjustments, then turned his back and moved toward his soldiers, ready to face any threat.