At other attack points, the sound of helicopter engines echoed across the sky, like a deathly melody signaling the presence of Russian forces. Armed helicopters were deployed to various areas, stretching their iron wings over dense forests and rugged mountains. In a key area where Rowlian troops surged like a flood, a total of six battalions were launching an offensive. Among them, a small battalion was completely crushed under the precise firepower of the Russian army.

  This battalion had almost no chance to resist. They were lacking in both the number of soldiers and modern equipment. Most were just plain infantry, wearing worn-out armor and carrying rudimentary weapons. The absence of air support turned them into easy targets for relentless bombardments from above.

  In the sky, the flying dragons—the most common air force in this world—were scattered everywhere. They flew in small groups, trying to cover vast areas, but this dispersion inadvertently weakened their overall combat capability. It was a foolish strategy, a poorly calculated decision, and clearly not a way to gain an advantage on the battlefield. In the eyes of Russian commanders, this strategy was akin to suicide—turning their own army into easy prey for organized airstrikes.

  Nevertheless, war always harbors surprises. Perhaps behind this seemingly foolish strategy, Rowlia still had an unplayed card. But could that card turn the tide, or was it just a faint hope in despair? The watchful eyes of the Russian forces patiently observed, waiting for the slightest movement on the battlefield before making their final judgment...

  In the sky, the Su-27s were heading southeast, towards the enemy's encampment to eliminate their forces. The Su-27s gradually descended, dropping below the cloud layer, and the ground below came into view.

  The radar had pinpointed the designated target. One pilot said, "All units, prepare for airstrike."

  The Su-27 pilots were ready for battle in a new world, a place they still did not fully understand, but they were prepared to confront the strange things that would appear here. From a distance, they could see the enemy's barracks; the pilots were preparing for an airstrike.

  ...Below the barracks, a heavy and tense atmosphere enveloped the area, with soldiers resting, but their eyes were filled with anxiety about what was about to happen. Next to a campfire, smoke billowed, mingling with the murmurs of soldiers preparing for lunch. Among them stood a young sorcerer, an ambitious apprentice who had decided to join the Rowlian army in hopes of seeking glory and achievement in his life.

  This sorcerer, clad in a shimmering robe and with a self-satisfied gaze, quickly attracted the attention of those around him. He felt proud of the feats he had accomplished, and his fame within the army made him increasingly self-satisfied. The compliments from the common soldiers were like a stimulant for his ego. "Oh, great sorcerer, in the upcoming battle at the stronghold, we rely on you," one soldier said, his eyes filled with admiration.

  "Indeed, who would dare to challenge you!" another chimed in, causing him to smile smugly. "Of course, with someone like me, how could anyone defeat me!!" He laughed loudly, his laughter echoing in the air, but no one knew that his arrogance was leading him to the brink of destruction.

  Before he could savor his joy, a scream rang out from afar, "Something is coming!!!" A deafening explosion occurred in the sky, killing the flying dragons soaring above. Before he could comprehend what was happening, more explosions followed, sending him into a panic. He ran to a wider area, but only saw strange objects flying towards the dragons, exploding immediately. The bodies of the dragons fell to the ground, creating a horrific scene he could never forget.

  As he was still bewildered, the sounds of tearing wind grew louder, almost piercing his eardrums. He looked up at the sky and saw an image he could hardly imagine. "Aircraft?! From Mu?!!" he exclaimed, fear surging within him. Before he could regain his composure, more explosions occurred right at his feet. He reacted too slowly, and could only feel the brutality of war before being engulfed in the blasts.

  Meanwhile, a pilot looked down at the scene below with a sense of frustration. "The whole squad, we missed. Do it again." The Su-27 squadron had just dropped RBK-250 bombs to eliminate the target, but unfortunately, they had missed most of it. They were too focused on the flying dragons and did not pay attention to the position below. Fortunately, not all bombs had been dropped, so there was still nothing to worry about.

  The Su-27s flew further away, turned around, and began a new attack. They started with missiles targeting the other flying dragons nearby. A soldier riding a dragon shouted into his radio, "Quickly, scatter!" As he turned to one side, he felt something strange. The sensation... it was gone, along with his ability to move. He exerted all his strength and saw his dragon falling, that was all he saw before losing consciousness.

  Three Su-27s had approached close enough and dropped more RBK-250 bombs below. The reason for using RBK bombs in this first conflict was that Russia was not a member of the CCM, and their participation was limited to not harming civilians. Given the current situation, the circumstances fully allowed for the use of cluster bombs. Above all, there were no more international humanitarian organizations, only their branches still operating. With no constraints from the United Nations, Russia could use any type of weapon they deemed necessary. However, if not careful in their usage, this could promote the Domino Theory leading to the disintegration of Russia in the future. Therefore, for now, weapons within the framework of the Geneva Convention IV were used to avoid unnecessary issues.

  Returning to the attack, the RBK-250s fell like deadly rain, and the cluster bombs quickly annihilated the soldiers below who were trying to shoot back with arrows or were panicking and fleeing from the airstrike. The Su-27s flew swiftly, like ghosts gliding through the sky, destroying the barracks below. The scene became chaotic, with screams and explosions echoing everywhere, mingling with the smell of smoke and blood.

  A commanding Su-27 looked down; the scene had become desolate after the cluster bomb attack, with no movement detected from below. In the air, everything had been cleared, with no signs of life remaining. The squadron commander contacted the others: "Mission accomplished, returning to base." His voice was cold and emotionless, as if he was accustomed to death and destruction.

  Just as the squadron was preparing to return, a fireball suddenly shot straight up into the sky, surpassing them. The pilots looked down, unable to believe their eyes, prompting one to exclaim over the radio, "What the hell?!" A pale blue circle with a strange symbol appeared; the pilots, confused about what was happening, saw a fireball emerge right in the center of the circle. From a distance, another Su-27 pilot had seen what just occurred; he knew exactly what he needed to do. He maneuvered his Su-27 towards the target and launched a Kh-29T missile.

  At the sorcerer's location, thanks to his luck and quick thinking, he had managed to hide beneath some crates. He breathed a sigh of relief, but that peace did not last long. When he stepped out to assess the situation around him, all that remained was dust and the scent of blood. He knew that what was flying in the sky was an aircraft from Mu, a very famous type of aircraft. Although he had never fought against this type of aircraft, with the knowledge he had, he believed it would not be able to stop him.

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  He quickly stood up and cast a spell circle, a trump card he had not intended to use for this purpose. "Just aim right, and I can destroy Mu's aircraft," he told himself, filled with determination. With the high speed of a fireball, it would become more feasible, as the aircraft could not be faster than a fireball from the spell circle. With that thought, he immediately launched a fireball, but the first shot missed. He reassured himself, "It's okay, just a little injury that reduced accuracy."

  He intended to cast again, but unaware of what would come next, he remained focused on casting magic. The sound grew louder, and he did not intend to pay attention to it, but the noise became so overwhelming that he had to turn back to see. He turned towards the source of the sound and just as he saw the Kh-29T missile, he was obliterated by the missile. A blinding light erupted, and in an instant, everything around him became silent, as if time had stopped. He could no longer feel anything, only an empty void where his pride and ambition had vanished in the blink of an eye.

  After eliminating the target, the Su-27 squadron officially completed their mission. The aircraft returned to the airbase in North Oestia, leaving behind a desolate scene where the dreams and hopes of Rowlian soldiers had been buried beneath dust and blood. No one survived to tell the tale, no one to remember those who had fallen in this war.

  In the following days, Rowlian forces on Mamluk territory were attacked by Russian airstrikes rapidly and brutally. The airstrikes occurred continuously, like an unending firestorm, leaving the Rowlian army with no ability to resist. They were cornered, with no way out, and one by one, they were swept into the embrace of death.

  The war scene became chaotic, with screams, explosions, and the smell of gunpowder blending together, creating a tragic picture that no one could imagine. The Rowlian soldiers, one by one, faced the brutality of war, and now, they were nothing but soulless corpses scattered across the ground.

  The Russian army, with overwhelming strength, continued to advance towards the capital Chora, fulfilling the main objective of this first war. They were not merely soldiers, but war machines, equipped with modern weapons and sophisticated tactics. Each step they took carried certainty and determination, as if they were carrying out a mission that had been predetermined.

  Meanwhile, the innocent people in Mamluk, who had no connection to the war, had to bear the consequences. They lived in fear, worrying for their own safety and that of their families. The children no longer played, but instead had innocent eyes filled with anxiety, their dreams extinguished by the sounds of gunfire and bombs.

  The war was not just a conflict between armies, but a battle between ideals, between life and death. While one side sought power and dominance, the other merely wished to live in peace. But in this world, peace seemed a luxury, a dream that could never become reality.

  And so, the war continued, with no end in sight, no forgiveness. The soldiers, the sorcerers, and even the innocent civilians all became victims of a senseless war, a conflict marked only by brutality and suffering. They would forever be haunted by painful memories, the horrific images that the war had left behind, and in their hearts, a question that would never have an answer: "Why?"

  ...

  In an undisclosed location, on a desolate dirt road, a convoy of Russian armored vehicles rumbled forward, each vehicle's engine roaring in the quiet expanse of the wilderness. Dust billowed up as the tracks cut through the parched earth. Alongside the war machines, soldiers stood ready on high points, their eyes sharp as predatory beasts, vigilant for any unexpected situations.

  This was a completely different scenario, an unprecedented conflict, and every soldier had to face it with resilience. On one tank, a special forces team from the GRU Spetsnaz sat silently, focused on their critical mission. Tasked with an extremely special assignment, their objective was not just to fight but to eliminate the king of Rowlia, a powerful and dangerous leader. To ensure success, the GRU team would coordinate with other infantry forces, while the air force would encircle the area from above, creating a tight noose that could not be escaped.

  Colonel Vorosimorsk, the commander of the GRU team, turned to the members of the group, his eyes sharp as knives as he prepared to outline the plan. "Has everyone memorized the locations we need to pass through?" His voice rang out, sharp and decisive.

  "Understood, Colonel Vorosimorsk," a confident voice replied in unison. The commander pulled out a paper map, pointing to the strategically marked locations. "We will follow this route. There are some shortcuts indicated so we can infiltrate the castle stealthily. But remember, the likelihood of the enemy fleeing is very high."

  With calmness, the Colonel continued. "Helicopters will be on standby outside, ready to assist. Before that, the air force will clear the enemy's flying dragons. This is a significant advantage, as most of Rowlia's strength comes from infantry, and without them, the enemy will be greatly weakened."

  One of the team members, his eyes bright as he looked ahead, continued, "So we will bypass the... knights, head straight for the king of Rowlia, and eliminate him?"

  "Exactly," Colonel Vorosimorsk replied, his gaze fixed on the map. "But before we act, we will need to stop at a nearby town before nightfall. During that time, the air force will clear the area."

  A surprising question from a young soldier made things feel somewhat strange: "Is there any issue with the residents there that we need to be aware of?"

  Vorosimorsk smiled slightly, then replied with a hint of depth in his voice, "Do you know what the Japanese are famous for?"

  "Culture?" one soldier answered, but Vorosimorsk shook his head, more serious.

  "Not that, more specifically."

  A steady voice rang out from a new member, Rompev Yuryeivich Destra: "Anime? Though I'm not sure, but the kids these days love them."

  The Colonel laughed, a look of satisfaction on his face. "That's right, anime. And specifically, Isekai or Fantasy. This town has a place called the Adventurers' Guild. How do you feel about that, rookie?"

  The whole team looked at each other, confusion evident. But when a few dragons flew overhead, their riders, they couldn't help but think of familiar images from the stories the Japanese had created.

  One soldier spoke up, "The Adventurers' Guild? Like a free mercenary gang?"

  "Yes, it could be seen that way. But we need to go in there to gather information. The government needs every source of intel, and a place like that is the ideal destination," the Colonel explained. "Don't forget, we are on a mission, not a vacation."

  Rompev fell silent, but he still didn't fully understand the situation. The Colonel noticed his confusion and smiled. "What's wrong? Do you have any questions?"

  "Uh... no," Rompev replied, but his voice was filled with uncertainty. "It's just that... this team doesn't seem like the Spetsnaz model I was trained for."

  That remark made the whole team burst into laughter. Vorosimorsk paused, turning to look at the rookie with an understanding gaze. "What's your name?"

  "Rompev Yuryevich Destra," he replied.

  Vorosimorsk looked at Rompev, guessing that he seemed out of place in the team, but patiently continued, "Good. My team values camaraderie. No need to be serious all the time. You may not fit the team's style entirely, but I will arrange for you to work with someone very approachable, even though he is quite serious."

  Rompev looked at the Colonel, not understanding why that person would be introduced. Vorosimorsk smiled and explained, "That person is Vasha Mikhalovich Donskoy. A Lieutenant, formerly Spetsnaz. If you work with him, don't be surprised if he curses at someone. But don't worry, he is approachable and cares for his subordinates."

  Rompev was surprised, "So why is he being suggested, just a lower-ranking person?"

  Vorosimorsk laughed. "Vasha was once my commander. Back in Syria, he led an operation to seize an ISIS stronghold. Although it failed, he still has remarkable talent. Do you understand? He may not be a great leader, but he always excels in any other role."

  Rompev looked at the photo Vorosimorsk handed him, an old picture of a very ordinary-looking man. "Vasha was once a commander... really?"

  Vorosimorsk nodded, his gaze firm: "That's right, but don't let failure mislead your judgment. Vasha still has value in the team, and he will help you if needed."