The medics rushed the frail body of Martin to an ambulance and then took him to the hospital. He had survived. But Michaela didn't require any examination. He was dead. The medics gave Martin first aid, pulled out the bullet, stopped his bleeding and took him to Pharkis in a helicopter. Alfred was with him, and his heart was beating rapidly. He understood the pain Martin felt when his comrades were hurt. The body of Michaela was brought to the capital as well and was buried alongside the past martyrs of Arkania.
According to the constitution, General Yarna, being the second-in-command of Michaela, was supposed to be the next supreme commander. But he declined, and Colonel Yornus was elected as the supreme commander by the parliament.
The two brothers were in the supreme commander's office. Yornus took out a paper and handed it to the general.
"What's this? An attack plan?" Yarna asked.
"Yes, Martin gave it to me before he left for the rescue mission. He said that we should follow this plan if Michaela is killed." Yornus replied.
"It involves 986 artillery cannons! Will this even work? They could easily trample over them." Yarna said.
"He told me that if Michaela is killed, the people would demand immediate revenge. If we do this swiftly, we may inflict heavy damage on them or obliterate them." Yornus replied.
"He is sharp. Well, you are the supreme commander. So make the decision."
"Yes, I will. Why did you reject the post?" Yornus asked.
"You know that politics isn't my forte. You are better for this post." Yarna replied and sighed. "Who will be your assistant?"
Yornus looked here and there. "The author of this paper."
Yarna understood what he meant.
"I will promote him," Yornus said, and they both left the office. Martin's plan was going to take place.
Two days have passed since the death of Michaela. An enemy envoy reached Egnisk bearing a white flag. They had the corpses of the ones in the rescue mission of Michaela. Ferry was among them. They presented a final ultimatum. Surrender or die.
"We will fight," General Yarna responded.
That night, Argen and the top brass were happy. Argen knew that Arkania wouldn't launch a full offensive, so soon they would surrender. He thought that Martin was dead. He was unaware of the reality and the trick in Martin's sleeves.
"This paid just as we planned," Rokhnir said.
"Yes, that warning by Hensfer was just a bluff. Their prodigy boy is dead." Argen replied and smiled. He was happy, unaware of the upcoming threat.
"Sir, there are multiple vehicles visible on our satellites and radar." A lieutenant informed.
"What? Are they attacking? I thought they weren't dumb." Rokhnir responded.
"The people loved Michaela. So to please them, they will try something. The troops stationed at the border will handle them." Argen responded.
He sat back and drank some tea. He was satisfied with the results. For him, he had won. They were in an underground command room, which was a bunker.
After five minutes, the unexpected happened. The ground above began to shake and explode. All the staff and Argen were stunned.
"What is happening?" Rokhnir asked.
"Sir…the numbers are increasing." The lieutenant said frantically. "There are nearly a thousand artillery cannons."
"What!?!?" Argen was shocked. "How is it possible?"
"They camouflaged the rest and jammed satellite signals. Hence, we were only able to detect a few." Another lieutenant answered.
"They are inflicting heavy damage! Several tanks are attacking as well. They are stopping our troops from engaging the artillery." Another lieutenant reported. "They are too fast! We can't react!"
"They aren't fast. By the time the last shells reach, the ones in the front row have reloaded and fired. They are giving us no opening. At this rate, they will wipe us out." Rokhnir said as he examined the footage on the screen. "We can't do anything." Rokhnir slammed his hand on the desk.
Argen sat back and saw his army and victory reduced to ashes. He had lost. Then a message appeared for Argen on the main screen. It was from Arkania.
"I am alive." The message said.
Argen got up and stepped back. His mouth and eyes were wide open. The boy whom he thought was dead was actually alive. He understood that this attack was his plan. He had again lost to him.
Yornus watched the artillery light up the morning sky before the sun could, and then he sat on his chair. Beside him was sitting a boy, a major, his assistant, Martin Arkila. Martin's eyes were pale and black. He was wearing the robe of the second-in-command and watching his plan in action from that chair. He had a walking stick in his hand, and behind him was standing his only living friend, Alfred Zenisk.
The enemy was being massacred, yet he had a faint smile. The weak, injured, pale boy had taken his revenge.