CHAPTER 9: THE INVASION OF CHERWOODS

***The Saint’s Tree, a few minutes before the long sleep ended…***

The azure skies of Cherwoods was interrupted by the shadows of what looked like several groups of eagles flying in formation above the ancient forest. Then, as they went past the Elf Saint’s city, explosions followed, with the first and second waves of the flying beastmen dropping their bombs on their respective targets. After that, the subsequent waves of the eagles landed the elvish soldiers they carried on the canopy, along with their equipment.

Compared to the airborne drops of the Normandy Landings, the ‘airborne’ phase of Kuro’s invasion of Cherwoods went well, since they met no resistance in the drop zones. Members of the patrols weren’t separated, and were in their positions when the artillery barrage on the beaches began.

A few distances off the shores of Cherwoods was a flotilla of steam warships, with their broadsides presented against the enemy beaches.

“…”

The lead ship of that group, the Saint Madelaine, was where the senior commanders of the invasion force established their headquarters, including the Lord Kuro of Arles himself. As the last grains of sand emptied to the bottom part of their hourglasses, the Duke of Maverny raised his hand…

“!!!”

…and lowered it the moment the hour after the long sleep passed.

“Fire!” was the thunderous command that echoed throughout the Saint Madelaine. Their barrage was followed by the other ships’ salvoes. Within minutes, hundreds of cannon balls crashed on the beaches, as well as the defenses of the enemy.

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**Kuro, on the upper deck of the steamship, Saint Madelaine, the lead ship of the invasion forces of Cherwoods…**

The artillery barrage had stopped. In the aftermath of that intense bombardment, I could see the port village of the Saint’s Tree Palace Complex smoking from the tree-houses we hit by our shells. There were no movements that any of us—including the sharp-eyed elvish officers of our army—had observed. I’d like to think that we’ve obliterated our enemies in that artillery barrage and aerial bombardment, but I won’t be overconfident.

“Fifty seconds!” was the shout that came from an officer that stood on one of the landing boats. It was followed by the shrill sound of a whistle, calling for the attention of every soldier disembarking as part of the first assaulting wave of our army. I think it was a good call for Salis to use the iron-mithril alloy in the construction of our tanks. Because of it, the vehicles were lighter, and easier to transport, compared to—let’s say—a regular tank made from Earth.

“Sir,” one of my commanders reminded me, “while your bravery is admirable, we plead to you to remain on the ship while we attack the enemy. Losing you would defeat the whole purpose of this expedition even if we won.”

“R-Right…” I replied, though I avoided looking at him. Well, I guess it’s also my fault for getting them worried, since I told them earlier that I preferred going with the first wave on the beaches. Not that I was looking for excitement or trying to be a show-off, but I was worried of the casualties in case something didn’t go according to our plans.

I mean, this was an amphibious operation. And as I came from Earth, my best example to follow was the Normandy Landings of June 1944. But even if it was a success, there were parts of that operation that didn’t go as planned, thus resulted in deaths and injuries. Like the landings on ‘Omaha Beach’…

“…”

Any case, I could only watch the units and tanks assigned to the first wave go to the shore. Contrary to the still waters of Cherwind, the seas of Cherwoods was rough, though not enough to drastically affect the boats rowing towards the beaches. Well, I guess the mistakes of the Omaha landings (like delivering soldiers on the wrong sectors) won’t happen to us, since the shores of the battle site was small compared to the one in Normandy. Besides, the ships laid down thick smokescreens to obscure the landings until the soldiers were already marching on the sands and the tanks rolling in ahead of them, so it should be alright.

“…” The silhouettes of the last boats of the first wave disappeared into the white smoke generated by our magicians on the ships.

Complete silence followed that lasted for a few minutes that seemed forever to us who waited on the decks. Then, I heard the first rifle shots and cannons being fired. Several whistles were blown, and battle cries echoed from our forces, as well as distinguishable screams of anguish from those who were wounded.

What the hell’s happening back there?

I and a few of my commanders exchanged anxious looks as we decided of whether to send in the second wave of the assaulting force, with its soldiers disembarking to the boats. We couldn’t see the progress of battle because of the smokescreen, and we couldn’t lift it as well for fear of the enemy elves hitting us with their accurate arrow fire from the shores. The guys we sent in to send signals weren’t sending anything at all.

“We should wait for the signal!”

“From here, we can hear the struggle of the first wave! Let’s reinforce them before it’s too late Sir!”

“If the second wave comes in late, then they got a high chance of getting massacred!”

The senior commanders of the army locked themselves on the debate. Even I was surprised at the turn of events, trying to determine if the first wave had run into problems. I mean, these guys who landed were already supported by tanks, and the enemy’s got no gunpowder artillery to destroy those armored vehicles.

However, as the one in-charge of all the movements of this invasion force, I gave the permission to launch the second wave and reinforce the beleaguered first wave. When the ‘landing boats’ (actually, just regular wooden boats assigned for disembarking our soldiers and tanks on the beaches as well as the nearby port village) returned, they were now carrying some of the wounded.

“There are more on the frontlines, sir,” a medic reported. “The advance has bogged down; arrows are raining down on our forces from all directions. The magicians on shore are chanting smoke to conceal our soldiers, but it only led to confusion. So, they resorted to erecting magic barriers.”

“What about the tanks who also went in?”

“Many of those stopped running, milord. But the crews inside are keeping up the fire.”

I felt like I was punched in the gut, when I heard the medic’s words. While the second report was encouraging, the first one was devastating. I mean, those ‘tanks’ were my ‘wonder weapons’; it should run the gauntlet and crash through enemy defenses easily.

“…”

Well, I guess that’s quite expected. No matter how hard one practiced, there would always be unseen factors in any situation, much more when this scenario was limited by the information one had at hand.

Any case, while the smokescreen helped us approach the beaches relatively unscathed, on the beaches it would only confuse the units trying to move inland. The magic shields, while it could protect our guys from the arrows, it kept them from firing back. And the barriers were not a ‘permanent’ solution; for each projectile it deflected, it costed the caster mana, so it couldn’t be put up forever. And, the medic did tell us the ferocity of arrow fire from the enemy, hence, I believed it won’t be too long before the magicians fighting on the ground would run out of their mana and end up as ‘sitting ducks’.

So, I healed the injured and sent them back to the hospital ships to recuperate, while I told my senior commanders…

“I’ll go in with the third wave.”

“Sir,” they immediately pleaded. “We can’t have you killed or wounded!”

“Trust me, my power to heal is needed at the beaches,” I reiterated. “And also, I have to give our guys the fighting chance. No battle was won by hiding.”

With no other way to convince me to back down from my plans, the senior officers offered to come with me at least. So, we went into the shores of Cherwoods along with the third wave.

----------

It was total carnage when the third wave—along with us—arrived at the shores of Cherwoods. The formation we taught them during the exercise was lost, with everyone choosing to do whatever suited them—a consequence of shortened training. Corpses of our dead lie scattered as far as my eyes could see, intermingled with the wounded and the dying. Some were using their fallen comrades to shield themselves to the hail of arrows coming from the enemy. Others took to the back and sides of the tanks, scattered across the battlefield immobile, though their crews kept firing the cannons and their rifles from the portholes. The rest got behind the spare equipment to hide themselves, and there were also isolated ‘safe spots’ erected by the magicians who chanted magic barriers.

Just to be safe, our wave’s magicians put up our shields while we alighted the boats, as the third group of soldiers and tanks reinforced the second and the first waves. Yeah, my fears about this landing came true…

“Sir!” a junior officer from the earlier landing waves ran up to us. “The attack bogged down because of the arrow barrages!”

While I could acknowledge the deadly and accurate fire from enemy as the reason for our casualties, I won’t believe that these tanks we got had faulty engines that caused them to stop in the middle of the beaches. Look, while several might bog down because of quality issues, when you had around 20 of these vehicles sent in and all stopped, then something else could be the culprit.

Salis personally oversaw its construction, and I trust her more in technical matters than my own judgment.

Under the cover of a magic barrier spell, I crossed the enemy line of sight and into a tank.

“What’s the problem? Why’d you stop?” I asked its crew from one of the portholes.

“Sir, the engine just died,” they replied. “We tried several times to start it again, but it won’t budge. It is still warm, and the water is up its acceptable levels. We also checked the other components, and it’s good. Nevertheless, we can’t run this! I guess others have the same problems, too?”

“Keep trying and crash through the defenses when you do,” I instructed them before going to the next one. They also told me the same thing, having done all the necessary troubleshooting as what we told them in training.

Now my suspicions that something else was causing these vehicles to stall went stronger. I can only ask the other person who might know the answer…

‘Yes, it’s possible,’ Gaius replied. ‘And the Seductress’ influence can interfere with everything, if that would sate her endless hunger for suffering.’

So, what do I do?

‘Remember that time you ‘destroyed’ her by shooting me with bullets imbued with the god-power of healing? Try casting it on the tanks; let’s see if it works.’

I did what the Roman told me. However, as I was casting the healing spell, the enemy intensified its arrow barrage. Several of the mages’ barriers dissipated, and scores were hit, raising our casualty count.

‘Hurry!’

I’m trying!

“!!!” At that moment, the tank I ‘healed’ suddenly roared alive. We could hear the crews inside shout in jubilation, and the tracked vehicle advanced for a few meters…until it stopped again.

‘Damn it!’ Gaius blurted out. ‘The Seductress’ influence must’ve saturated this place well-enough to render your healing useless after a few minutes.’

So, you’re telling me that I’ll have to escort these tanks—all 20 of them—to break the enemy defenses.

‘Unless you got a better idea in mind, you’ll have to escort them one by one, yes…’

Shit!

‘Better than your forces end up butchered, yes?’

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***The city of Berondin***

As he waited on the invasion of Kuro’s army, the Black God trained the people of the city, as well as the refugees, into the art of fighting. The Berondin elves were brave, and they never let down their guards. However, they lacked people to be an effective ‘offensive’ force that could sway the tide of battles to their side, thus, the warrior god added the survivors to their numbers.

He plans to move the Berondin army against the Saint’s Tree once the Elvish Expeditionary Force arrives…

And, just to keep himself informed on the movements of their enemy, as well as the invasion of the human noble, he persuaded the council of Berondin to send scouts around the Saint’s Tree. These individuals were the fastest elves available in the settlement, and the former spy, Cerdan, was among them.

“…”

He was assigned to keep watch on the fringes of the Elf Saint’s city, and was instructed to escape upon any sign of danger. However, on this vigil, he saw people coming in from the sky, as well as heard cannon booms from afar. The former spy couldn’t believe his eyes and ears, as he was approached by the first wave of airborne elves in red uniforms and with demon weapons.

“Sir, please identify yourself!” one of the soldiers demanded. “Are you a friend or foe?”

“Y-You must be from the Lord Kuro’s invasion army!” Cerdan replied, his eyes almost in tears. “I’m Cerdan, one of the spies he sent here before! You have no idea how happy I am to see you guys!”

The soldiers exchanged surprised and confused looks, but they eventually lowered their weapons.

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***On the ‘Gold’ sector of the beach…***

The New Elebor-New Guriev regiment was among the second wave of attackers that landed. They were assigned the sub-sector called ‘Gold-2’, which bordered the port village and the beach. With them were three tanks meant to reinforce the bogged down assault of the first wave. However, once they set foot on the shores of Cherwoods…

“!!!”

“Everyone, maintain formation!”

“Argh!”

“Fuck! I’m hit!”

The first casualties they incurred happened just as they marched behind the tanks. The arrow volleys of the enemy, partly obscured by the defenses and the smokescreen, whittled the magicians’ barriers after the second salvo, and everyone was forced to scatter. Just as they were looking for hiding places, the tanks also stopped, effectively putting a stop to their attack.

Glamden and Behrien’s squad had landed by then, and they went with a designated magician behind a tank, braving the repeated salvoes of enemy arrows. Glamden, for his small height and significant role as the ‘carrier’, was given a space on the back of the armored vehicle, as his comrades followed it.

“Fuck!” the designated magician cried out. “My barrier is breaking! Run for cover guys!”

Even before he could finish speaking, the shield dissipated. Then, the arrow barrage hit their friends on the farthest end just as they were about to scatter. Behrien and Glamden watched helplessly as the people they knew died before their very eyes, skewered by hundreds of enemy arrows from head to toe. There were those who survived the initial barrage, asking for help and trying to reach out their hands to their friends, only to be killed by the second volley.

Behrien froze on his feet, watching the fate of his childhood friends.

“Behrien!” his squad leader screamed. “What the hell are you stopping for? You’re going to get killed!”

When his senses returned to him, however, the elf saw the skies above him darkened by thousands of arrows about to rain on his spot. Behrien couldn’t move; he didn’t know what to do, anyway. The tank he was following got quite far to run for cover, and he was at the middle of a field of corpses.

“Damn it!”

“!!!”

He felt someone tackle him, and they fell together, just as the volley peppered them. Good thing the huge bag of spare equipment protected his face from the arrows.

“Damn it, Behrien!” it was Glamden. “Why do you have to just stand there like an idiot?”

“O-Our friends…our n-neighbors…”

“We can’t do anything about them anymore,” the little elf replied. “Get yourself together! You’re not the only one who’s afraid!”

The two waited for the next volley to end, and then dashed towards cover when the lull came in. Glamden’s pack behind him offered protection against the arrows, though he sacrificed some of the spare equipment as they used it to shield themselves. When they finally reached safety, Behrien gave him a tap on the back, a simple gesture of thanks from his rival.

----------

Everyone was stranded on the beach until the third wave landed.

“Hey! Hey! Look!” someone shouted from the bunch of elves hiding behind one of the stalled tanks. “Isn’t that the Duke of Maverny?”

“You must be so scared to see hallucinations!”

“No, I’m not! Look, that human’s hands are glowing white!”

“Where?”

“That guy holding his hands at back of that tank from afar! He’s making these monsters move again!”

Behrien and Glamden, as part of that group trying to make themselves small and hiding behind a bunch of equipment and corpses, looked towards where the other elf pointed. And true enough, there was the legendary Duke of Maverny, ‘pushing’ the tanks in the middle of arrow barrages, and protected only by a few of his staff chanting barrier spells.

“Everyone!” their squad leader called out to them. “The Lord Kuro of Arles is sacrificing his life to help us! If he—a human noble and a hero, is willing to do that, then what are we doing here cowering from the arrows of the enemy? We must protect him! Magicians, barriers up! Fix bayonets and follow me!”

On the squad leader’s signal, Behrien and Glamden’s group rose from their hiding spots and rushed to the side of the Duke of Maverny, providing him with reinforced magic barrier as well as covering fire when those shields failed. That act itself gave the other squads the ‘morale boost’ they needed to brave the arrow volleys and resume their attacks, so that, as Kuro ‘healed’ the tanks, the elvish forces marched behind him.

Glamden and Behrien watched in awe as the famed human hero walked alongside with them.

“Sir,” the latter told Kuro, “we’re going to protect you! Just do your thing!”

The human smiled back.

When the tank Kuro was pushing reached the enemy fortifications, it literally bulldozed the pickets down, crushing anyone beneath it. Arrows were shot on the vehicle, but those only bounced off its iron-mithril skin. Then, once the defenses were breached, the elves fanned out, securing the flanks and trenches from the enemy. At that point, Kuro could sigh with relief, as the Elvish Expeditionary Force regained their morale and bravery.

“Alright…” he muttered to himself. “Time for another round of pushing!”

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**Kuro**

This place was hugely different from what I remembered it looked like the last time I was here.

“…”

At one glance, I could immediately tell the effects of the ‘Seductress’ prolonged presence in this area. Blackened and twisted vegetation was everywhere—similar to the French bocages, only darker, and more…’rotten’. These plants were probably exposed to the corrupting miasma of that creature from the void, hence, the appearance. The Saint’s Tree itself was affected; its ancient trunk where the Lady Hinwe’s palace was hollowed out was totally dark, as if I was looking at some otherworldly chasm. The upper parts where most of the leaves were remained untouched, which was good, though from my spot I could tell that the ‘blight’ slowly inched its way towards those spots. One could only guess what could happen if that tree palace would be fully ‘corrupted’.

“Burn everything so we have a full firing vantage,” I heard a junior officer order his men. It’s the solution to this bocage ‘barriers’, though it was not a sure way to deal with it. There were cases where the thick shrubs and trees simply won’t set alight, even when as the magicians poured powerful flame spells against it. What’s more, the continuous use of magic drained the mana pool of our magicians, so they won’t be effective if a counter-attack from our enemies happened.

That’s why, I had some of them deal with the plants, while another group is ordered to rest.

“…”

As the regiments of elvish soldiers marched past my spot, I had some of the abandoned houses converted into ‘field hospitals’, where I cast an ‘area healing’ spell. While we did expect casualties when we began our assault, we were still surprised that the enemy put up a stiff resistance, even when they were subjected to several hours of intense bombardment from our ships, and the eagle air forces.

And dang…these elves really can hit exactly where they want to hurt you.

The smokescreens our fleet laid down were effective, as stated by several of our officers when I asked them. For a while, the arrows from the opposite side never rained on them, as long as they remained inside the smoke. However, this was an invasion, and our soldiers would have to move out into the open to fight properly. That’s where they incurred our losses.

“Per our scouts’ reports,” another officer told me, “the preliminary bombardment of the shore defenses rendered the ramparts of the enemy ineffective.”

“Well, if so, then the opposition would surely have withered against us,” I pointed out. “I mean, we did cover every inch of the beach and the port village with artillery, right? And it was a two-fold bombardment as well: first from the air, and then, from the sea.”

The officers exchanged glances, which I noted, before saying, “Lord Kuro…uhm…”

“Anything I needed to know?”

“The enemy…” one of them said, with his face turning pale. “…it’s the first time I saw something like this, milord. But, I’ve been with the first wave of our soldiers into the shore. What we fought against was something even my mind can’t fathom.”

“What do you mean?”

Another officer took my arm, pulling me towards the doors, “Milord, I think it’s best that you come with us, instead of describing what we saw to you.”

My mind was still confused, but seeking answers to my questions, I let myself be led to where my officers wanted me to be.

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As our group walked across the port village, we found corpses of people—elves—lying around the streets and on the doors of the derelict homes. While many of those dead bodies were mangled after the bombardment, we could still surmise that these poor guys died not because of our artillery, but of something else…

I mean, look, these grey, emaciated corpses devoid of fresh, red blood at their ‘open’ wounds tell a different story of how they died.

“…”

And fortunately, Gaius knows what happened to them.

‘Kuro,’ the Roman whispered into my mind. ‘These bodies are long dead, even before we came here.’

Looks like it.

‘And, I can tell they didn’t just die out of hunger. Their life essence was sucked out of them.’

The Seductress!

‘Yes, just like what Seirna and her spy witnessed in Dorian.’

“Sir,” an officer told me, pointing to one corpse—still clutching a bow on one of its hands. “This creature here is one of those who fought against the first landing wave. Our soldiers killed it with a shot to the head, but its body was still moving, so we destroyed one of its arms.”

Indeed, one of the corpse’s limb was missing…perhaps it was the hand over there, with its fingers wrapped on an arrow shaft.

“Do you mean to say that this dead body here was shooting against the invasion force?”

The elf officer, though I could tell he was bewildered of my question, nodded. “Milord, I know it’s hard to believe, but this is the enemy we fought earlier. The only way to defeat it is to bring it down, then cut off its limbs.”

“No, no, I believe your story,” I reassured the nervous fellow. “I’m sure you experienced, or heard about the ‘Great Rising of the Undead’?”

“Yes, Sir!” he answered. “Fortunately, my family and I were in Kersea when it happened, so we survived that.”

“Good thing!” I tapped his shoulder. “See, I’m the commander of the army who fought against the undead. And this creature you speak of is nearly identical to the ‘zombies’ we faced; only better.”

“Only…better?”

I nodded. “Well, at least, you guys won’t have to contend with decaying, stinking flesh, and maddening moans from these monsters.”

The elvish officers were surprised at what I said, but it was the truth. I could still remember those zombies and their glowing eyes, approaching our lines in an attempt to overwhelm our army. Their dragging steps and the belabored moans were enough to melt the morale of an inexperienced warrior; I could only attribute our victory to the timely arrival of the demon army from Cherflammen. The demons knew how to deal with the undead, after all.

“Gather these corpses,” I ordered. “Make sure these are dead, and cut off their limbs, just to be safe. Then burn them on the pyre.”

“Yes, sir!”

I could only be thankful that these elves with me had a different culture, having spent their childhood in Chersea instead of Cherwoods. As far as I could remember, the traditional elves of this realm wouldn’t allow the mutilation of their dead…let alone its burning.