Chapter 7: Demon Hill
A single blast marked the beginning of a battle that would change the world. One huge explosion after the other marked the beginning pink showers of mist for the enemy brigade.
Soldiers called out vectors of fire with machine like precision, and the tanks obliged, clearing out large swathes of enemy presence. Craters started marking the ground where enemy soldiers had been monts ago. With each shot from a tank, n lay wounded or dying. Still, the volleys continued.
Following the first few volleys of tank fire, the battalion commander realized that tanks would be overkill for an enemy whose cavalry amounted to "Horses on carriages." He got on comms and ordered. "All tanks, cease fire! We are wasting ammo." Luckily, the tanks had fired only a few volleys before the commander had realized his oversight.
"Utilize the .50cals, crew served weapons, and all other small arms fire capabilities. We cannot afford to waste our higher caliber ammunition against enemies with little to no resistance."
Decimation, carnage, and terror. The damage delivered by the battalion was unimaginable to modern soldiers, but in this world? Armor might as well be paper, and magic barriers might as well be plywood shields. The commander watched as his forces ripped through the enemy brigade. The first volley had already decimated a large portion of the enemy formation, and the commander sighed as he leaned back in his seat as he looks around. His battalion lived and breathed as a competent machine. The years of training had molded these n into ruthless but professional soldiers.
Training to fight enemies that hid amongst civilian populations vs an enemy in plain view on open terrain might as well be compared to an adult having a rifle versus a child having a bb gun. He looked down at the now scattered formation of the enemy brigade, and offered a silent prayer for the n losing their lives.
Large and booming blasts were replaced by the sharp cracks of crew served weapons and small arms fires.
Eric watched the enemy lines break apart. The enemy formations were rapidly unraveling under sustained fire. This wasn’t a fight, it was a dismantling. He talked into his radio, calmly issuing commands. "Adjust fire as needed. Keep close watch on ammo." He then lit a cigarette, watching the chaos with somber eyes. There was no going back from this, the world had crossed a line of which there was no return.
Hezel realized that sothing had to change, and quickly. He looked at the chaos that was being wrought on his soldiers. With little to no ti to think, he yells out orders in rapid fire professionalism. "Spread out! We are too close together! Mages! I want barriers around the formations!" One of the mage commanders tried to argue, and Hezel growled at him "Follow my fucking orders! We are being killed by sothing that can target large groups at once! Barriers... NOW!" The soldiers spread out as the large explosions that ceased. Hezel sighed in relief before utter shock replaced his reprieve. Instead of thunderous roars shaking the world, large cracks that seed to push the world apart echoed in his ears.
The mages had followed his orders perfectly, and the soldiers had spread apart, but that made little difference. Instead of his soldiers dying in large clumps, they were now being killed as if the enemy had a pick-axe scraping the ground. n went down one after the other as clumps of dirt exploded around them. The shields the mages had conjured over the companies closest to the battlefield were disappearing almost as fast as they appeared.
Hezel watched in horror as his brigade was decimated. He stood still in shock as explosions ripped through his pride and joy. n were dying left and right as he stood there, unable to process the situation. No tactics worked, no strategy he know would allow the brigade to escape this decimation. There was a brief mont of silence through the smoke and destruction, and Hezel looked up at the hill where hell was being rained down upon them.
"Is this the end of the empire?" Hezel gasped out. He saw tan beasts with air flowing around their backsides, and demons dressed in green. They held large black tubes that seed to usher out death with small explosions.
As Hezel was making observations of the "demons on the hill
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