Chapter 165: Battle of the Ru River (3)
The air was heavy with the stench of rot and ash, and the ground shook with the constant explosions. The Bernard Empire now faced an enemy that had surpassed all logic and reason.
The retreat was a symbol of chaos. Soldiers rushed out of the front trenches, their boots soaked in mud-soaked with explosions and blood.
The M2 Bradley IFVs of the 1st Infantry Division roared to life, their 25mm chain guns unleashing suppressive fire. Behind them, the T-72s of the 2nd Tank Brigade retreated, their thermal sights blazing in the heat signature of the advancing enemy.
The shadow creatures, born from the spells of dark wizards, moved at a strange, unnatural pace. Their shapes were humanoid but distorted as if pulled from a madman's nightmare. Their bodies were made of pure shadow, their eyes glowed with a red light that seemed to pierce the soul of the person looking at them. Even as bullets and shells pierced their bodies, their smoky forms were being reconstructed in an instant.
General Petrov stood in the command bunker, his face pale but firm. The drone's live feed showed the chaos of the battlefield. The shadow creatures were constantly advancing, their numbers seemingly infinite. The soldiers of the Bernard Empire were retreating, their disciplined formations collapsing under the pressure of the supernatural onslaught.
"Report!" Petrov roared, his voice cutting through the tension in the room.
"Sir, the shadow creatures are immune to conventional weapons," a tactical officer replied, his voice trembling slightly. "Our artillery and arms fire are having no effect. They are cutting through our lines like butter."
Petrov's jaw tightened. He had never faced such an enemy. The dark magic of the Latvian sorcerers had turned the tide of the battle in an instant. He turned to Prince Eric, who stood nearby, his face serious.
"Your brother's sorcerers are more powerful than we expected," Petrov said. "We need a solution, and we need it now."
Eric shook his head, his brain thinking rapidly. He had seen the dark magic of the Latvian sorcerers before, but never on such a large scale. Because during the war for the throne, his brother's demi-human army was too strong for his faction army.
"We need to target the sorcerers themselves. If we can disrupt their spells, the shadow creatures will lose their power."
Petrov thought about it for a moment, then turned to the officers. "Give me the coordinates of the Latvian magicians. We must eliminate them, at all costs."
The officer nodded and began to give orders. "All units, this is command. We have a new priority target—the Latvian magicians. Concentrate all fire on their position. I repeat, concentrate all fire on the magicians."
★★★
On the eastern bank of the Ru River, the Latvian sorcerers stood in a circle, their hands raised to the sky. Their incantations echoed across the battlefield, a hoarse, ancient language that distorted the very fabric of reality. The air around them flashed with dark energy, and the ground beneath their feet was black and scorched.
Caspian stood nearby, his eyes burning with rage and victory. "Don't stop!" he roared. "Destroy them all! Leave nothing but ashes!"
The lead sorcerer turned to Caspian. "Your Majesty, the incantation is almost complete. The shadow soldiers will devour them all."
A cruel smile played on Caspian's lips. "Good. Show them the true power of the Latvian kingdom."
★★★
The Bernard Empire's artillery units shifted their focus, their howitzers and rocket launchers now pointed at the Latvian wizards' positions. The roar of the first rounds echoed through the air, their trajectory meticulously calculated.
*Boom! Boom! Boom!*
The ground shook with the explosion, sending dust and debris flying into the air.
The wizards' defences sizzled under the impact, but they held firm. The lead wizard sneered, his voice filled with contempt. "Fools. Do they think their puny weapons can harm us?"
But the Bernard Empire did not stop.
The roar of jet engines from the sky grew louder as the Eagle Squadron came in to bomb again.
The bombers, escorted by F-4 Phantom IIs, prepared for their bombing run.
"Target achieved," said the lead bomber pilot, his voice calm despite the chaos below. "Bombs being dropped."
The FAB-500 bombs detached from their pylons and hurtled toward the ground.
The wizards looked up, their eyes widening in surprise as the bombs hurtled toward them.
*Boom! Boom! Boommmm!*
The explosion was deafening, the shockwave spreading across the battlefield. The wizards' defences crumbled under the impact, and several of them fell to the ground, their bodies broken and bloody.
Caspian roared in terror. "No! I can't lose after coming this far! No! I can't let this happen! Don't give up! Don't forget what I've done for you. Don't forget who you are! You are the mages of darkness! Don't Fall! Fight for me until your last breath!"
The lead wizard struggled to his feet. "We will not let you down, Your Majesty!"
★★★
Despite the bombardment, the wizards' spell was not completely disrupted. The shadow creatures continued to advance, their numbers swelling with each passing moment.
The soldiers of the Bernard Empire kept firing helplessly, but their weapons were useless against the supernatural enemy. Many soldiers tried to fight back with bayonets, but they were all mercilessly killed by the shadow creatures.
In the trenches, a young soldier, Private Alexei, held his rifle tightly, his hand shaking. He had never seen anything like it before. The shadow creatures were unlike any enemy he had ever faced—they were the embodiment of nightmares.
"Hold the line!" his sergeant shouted, though the fear was clear in his voice. "Don't let them come!"
Alexei fired his rifle, the bullets piercing the shadowy shapes. The creatures came closer, their burning eyes staring at him. He could feel their viciousness, their hunger.
"Fall back!" the sergeant ordered, but it was too late.
The shadow creatures surged forward, their claws cutting through the air. Alexei screamed as one of them grabbed him, its icy touch freezing his soul. He began to lose his strength, his body growing cold and lifeless.
★★★
General Petrov watched in horror as the shadow creatures devoured his forces. The situation was dire, but he knew they could not retreat.
"Prepare the reserves," Petrov ordered, his voice steady despite the chaos. "We will hold the line, at any cost."
The reserves, a mix of elite infantry and armoured units, moved into position. Among them was a special unit called the Arcane Response Team (ART), a group of soldiers trained to combat supernatural threats. Equipped with enchanted weapons and protective talismans, they were the last line of defence against the shadow legion.
"Order them to do whatever they want. We cannot let them win. We have to destroy them! As soon as possible!"
★★★
ART charged forward, their magical weapons glowing with a faint, supernatural light.
The shadow creatures hesitated for a moment, feeling the power in their weapons. But they charged forward again.
The battle was fierce, the air filled with gunfire, explosions, and the ominous screams of the shadow creatures.
The ART commander, named Captain Mikhailov raised his magical sword, its edge blazing with bright light. "For the Empire!" he shouted, leaping into the fray.
The soldiers followed. They also raised their weapons and leaped into the fray.
ART soldiers wielded special weapons made for them. They were made using magic cores. Experience new tales on My Virtual Library Empire
Their weapons shot out beams of scorching light, causing the shadow creatures to writhe and scream as the beam disrupted their form, disintegrating them at the molecular level. But there were still plenty of shadow creatures left. More were emerging.
★★★
The wizards, on the other hand, were using barriers and magic items to defend themselves from the artillery. Many wizards had already died from excessive mana use. Those who were left were summoning on more shadow creatures.
Caspian's eyes were burning with madness. "More! Summon the greater ones—let the Veil itself descend!"
The lead wizard, eyeless face, hesitated. "My king, the greater Umbral Lords… they are unbound. They heed no master—"
"Do it!" Caspian roared, seizing the man by his robe and hurling him toward the tome. "I will not lose to my brother's lapdogs!"
...
The chant shifted, deepening into a dirge that shook the earth. The largest magic circle flared, its edges bleeding ink-black tendrils into the sky.
A rift tore open, and from it emerged a colossus of shadow—a towering, multi-limbed monstrosity, its form a blasphemy of claws, eyes, and gaping maws.
The presence of the Umbral Lord warped the air, like it was draining the colour from the world, and its roar was deadly enough to shatter the resolve of even the most steadfast of soldiers.
★★★
The T-72s rumbled forward, their 125mm cannons thundering as they unleashed a salvo at the Umbral Lord. Shells struck its shifting form, erupting in bursts of flame, but the creature barely flinched, its wounds sealing with tendrils of darkness. The M109 howitzers followed, their rounds raining down in a relentless storm, yet the titan pressed on, its claws raking through a Bradley and tossing it aside like a child's toy.
"Command, this is Bravo-6!" a tank commander's voice crackled over the radio. "Rounds ineffective—it's tearing us apart! We need heavier ordnance!"
The MLRS M270s—Multiple Launch Rocket Systems—stood ready at the rear, their racks loaded with cluster munitions. "Rocket artillery, prepare to fire! Grid 42-Alpha, full saturation! Blow that bastard back to hell!"
The whine of rocket motors filled the air as the M270s launched their deadly payload. Dozens of rockets streaked overhead, their trails painting the sky in fiery arcs. The barrage struck true, engulfing the Umbral Lord in a maelstrom of explosions.