After the brutal airstrike by Russia, the capital Chora fell into chaos, like a grim painting created by the dull gray hues of dust and fear. The booming explosions still echoed in the air, adding to the people's anxiety. Many residents, with eyes full of worry and despair, decided to leave this place they once called home. They were certain that the planes of Mu, notorious for their brutal campaigns in the civilized zone 2, were lurking in the sky, ready to spread death and destruction.

  On the city walls, patrolling soldiers stood guard, their gazes vacant as they looked into the scene within the capital. There was no more hustle and bustle, no more laughter, only a terrifying silence, as if time had stopped. One of them, tasked with observation, felt a rising tide of anxiety within. The pressure from the thick fog felt like a heavy blanket weighing down on his mind, making it hard for him to breathe.

  "Damn it! How did it come to this?!" he shouted, his voice echoing in the stillness, like a cry for help in the vast ocean. He hated this reality, hated his own helplessness as he watched the kingdom of Rowlia, once proud of its glorious achievements, now standing on the brink of disaster. The dream of unity and development seemed to be fading, giving way to fear and doubt. If this nation failed in this war, everything they had built would turn to ashes, and their status would be no more.

  But deep down, a resilient fire still burned in the soldier's heart. Rowlia would not be subdued, even in defeat. He reassured himself, feeling his mood gradually improve, helping him focus more on his duty. It was then that he heard strange sounds, like the hiss of a monster approaching. It made him uneasy, and he yelled, "Where the hell is that sound coming from?!" He looked around, but only saw the terrifying silence, and the sound continued to grow louder.

  Then, suddenly, it appeared... A strange shape, resembling a giant insect, with bizarre patterns he had never seen before. He turned to shout a warning to the others, but before he could finish his sentence, a barrage of bullets struck, taking his life in an instant.

  The Mi-28, like a beast from above, was wreaking havoc on every watchtower and city wall. There was little time to return fire, and they did not want to damage civilian infrastructure. The helicopter continued to hover, searching for signs of the military, but only found the eerie silence. Suddenly, a fireball flew in from somewhere, forcing the pilot to dodge in panic.

  Looking down, the pilot saw a troop running toward the city walls and realized that his mission was complete. He decided to withdraw, leaving the soldiers below to face an unpredictable fate.

  The soldiers, after regaining their composure, quickly returned to their positions on the battered city walls. They looked out at the distance, where the general and the wizard Selmos stood, their eyes filled with concern. Under the blazing midday sun, they saw strange objects in the fog, resembling iron lumps placed there, not ordinary weapons, but devices they had never seen before. The general and Selmos exchanged glances, worry evident on their faces. "We need to act right now," the general said, his voice deep and resolute. "If those iron lumps are indeed weapons, we cannot let them operate unchecked."

  Selmos nodded, but a sense of unease still stirred within him. "I've never seen weapons like that. If they are indeed magical weapons from civilized zone 1, their power could far exceed what we imagine."

  The general's gaze was fixed on the iron lumps, while distant explosions still echoed, like a warning of impending destruction. "We need to send a force out to approach and eliminate them before they can launch an attack."

  "But we don't have any magical detection equipment," Selmos emphasized. "If we don't know exactly what they can do, approaching them will be very dangerous."

  "That's true," the general admitted, "but if we don't act, we will lose our only chance to protect this capital. Gather all remaining soldiers. We will form an attack unit, and I will lead."

  Selmos felt a twinge of worry, but he also understood that there was no time to hesitate. "Very well, I will prepare immediately." He turned away, filled with determination, but also anxious about what was to come.

  As the troops were summoned, the atmosphere grew tense. The soldiers, though frightened, had their eyes shining with resolve. They knew that this was not just a fight for their survival, but a fight for the future of Rowlia. The general stood before them, his voice resonating: "We cannot let those iron lumps destroy our homeland. Let us fight like Rowlian soldiers, with courage and resilience!"

  Cheers erupted, blending with the sound of war drums, creating an atmosphere of fervor. They began to move toward the iron lumps, filled with determination and fear. Each step they took was a vow that they would not let the enemy seize their homeland, and they stood still, preparing for the decisive attack.

  ...

  Lieutenant Ivanov stood atop a hill, his sharp eyes glued to the binoculars, observing every movement of the enemy. The scene before him made him feel as if time had stopped. The city gate had opened, a clear sign that the Rowlian forces had fallen into a trap. "Hooked. Sharpshooters, prepare to fire," he commanded, his voice deep and resolute.

  The massive Rowlian army, armed with various weapons and uniforms, was forming up in a Cohort formation. Ivanov could not help but be impressed by their disciplined training, but that would not save their fate in this battle. He knew that with the strength of the 7th Armored Brigade, everything would soon change.

  As the Rowlian forces began to charge toward them, Ivanov signaled the sharpshooters to load their weapons. They moved at a moderate pace, but the distance of under a kilometer was more than enough. "Fire!" – just one short word, but it struck the battlefield like a thunderbolt.

  The sound of machine guns and artillery erupted like a deadly symphony. Bullets tore into the ranks of Rowlian soldiers, shattering shields and ripping through their bodies. The chaotic scene unfolded before Ivanov, as soldiers fell without a chance to breathe or cry for help, only the desperate screams mingling with the gunfire. The Rowlian general, standing in the midst of the battlefield, could not believe his eyes as he witnessed the destructive power of modern weaponry. He had no time to think, only to realize that this battle had spiraled beyond his control. A powerful artillery shell ended his life, turning him into a fragment amidst the storm of fire.

  The battlefield now resembled a meat grinder, where the once proud and noble Rowlian soldiers were reduced to lifeless corpses. Their morale, already low, was now nearly crushed completely. Selmos, standing on the walls, felt the collapse of the army's spirit. He decided to retreat; there was no time left for defense. "Switch to ambush," he ordered, his voice filled with determination but also anxiety.

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  The remaining soldiers quickly withdrew, trying to lure the enemy into a trap, complacent with the victory they thought they had secured. Lieutenant Ivanov, with his eyes fixed on the binoculars, confirmed that the enemy had retreated inside. "The enemy has fallen back," he reported over the radio, his tone calm but filled with the excitement of an impending victory.

  Helicopters, like iron birds, took off from behind, flying toward Chora. With thermal imaging, the hiding spots of the Rowlian forces were clearly revealed. The Mi-24 and Mi-28, with their destructive power, began their assault. A relentless barrage of bullets and rockets rained down on the enemy's positions. The Rowlian ambush, caught off guard and in panic, could not comprehend why they had been discovered. Although the casualties were not too great, the price for this carelessness was immeasurable.

  At the city gate, a HE shell blew apart the large gate, debris flying in all directions amidst the white smoke. The sound of engines and tank treads echoed like a war anthem. The armored forces, with overwhelming strength, spread throughout the capital, seizing every part of the city. The Rowlian soldiers were left with only their final resolve.

  The 7th Armored Brigade continued to advance into the capital, like a firestorm sweeping away everything in its path. Selmos, in a state of panic, ran through the narrow alleys, filled with worry and fear. He knew that those "iron insects" were not just weapons, but symbols of destruction that he could not stop.

  As Selmos approached the palace, he sensed the presence of the enemy. Three tanks, like giant monsters, were waiting, ready to drop deadly bombs inside. "All royal guards, prepare for battle!" he shouted, his voice echoing in the stillness, but inside him, despair was rising.

  The guards, with determined eyes, quickly gathered, ready for the final fight. They knew this could be a life-or-death battle, but their loyalty to their king kept them from retreating. Selmos, with a heavy heart, led the army into the palace, where life and death awaited.

  The sounds of bullets and explosions rang out like a tragic symphony. Each step they took was filled with fear, but also a determination to never give up. They had witnessed too many comrades fall, and now, they could not let those sacrifices be in vain.

  As the tanks began their assault, Selmos felt as if time had stopped. Everything around him became hazy in the smoke and explosions. He saw his soldiers, those who had fought alongside him, now facing death. "We cannot lose!" he shouted, trying to instill strength in them.

  The battle raged fiercely, but Selmos knew that, even at the cost of his life, he would not let the enemy seize his homeland. He and the guards fought to the end, determined to protect every inch of land, every drop of blood of their country.

  In the final moments, when everything seemed to collapse, Selmos looked up at the sky, where helicopters still hovered. He silently prayed for salvation, for a miracle that could change the tide. But deep down, he knew that this battle was not just his fight, but the fight of all who loved their homeland.

  ...

  The Spetsnaz team from Vorosimorsk successfully infiltrated the royal palace, once a symbol of the supreme power of Rowlia. Inside the ancient walls, they coordinated with other elite units, not all of whom were Spetsnaz. Decisions were made quickly: they would spread out to control every nook and cranny and search for the king – the ultimate target of the operation.

  Rompev, the team leader, maintained a cold demeanor, but his eyes were filled with focus. This was not just an ordinary military mission. Behind every step of the team lay the future of Russia's struggling economy, fighting for survival. Losing Rowlia – a potential resource – would be a devastating blow that his country could not withstand. Although the gold obtained from previous campaigns had helped Russia endure and pay its soldiers, it was merely a drop in the bucket. Russia needed to find civilizations with fossilized technology or at least at a near-modern level to revive its economy. He pinned his hopes on Mu – the only nation with aircraft. "With aircraft, there must be oil," he thought, clinging to a glimmer of light in the darkness.

  The hunt continued. The palace, with its dark corridors and grand rooms, was now just an empty shell. The Russian troops searched every corner step by step. The local soldiers were no longer a threat – they were swept away like dry leaves before a storm. When Vorosimorsk's team reached a vast hall, the sound of boots clashing against the cold stone floor heightened the tension in the air. Suddenly, a voice echoed from the shadows:

  "You... intend to assassinate His Majesty, don't you?"

  The words were filled with hostility and confidence. The Russian soldiers fell silent, guns at the ready, their eyes fixed on the source of the sound. The figure before them, clad in shining armor, smirked: "No need to answer. I see the truth in your eyes. Selmos warned me beforehand!"

  He snapped his fingers. From the darkness, armored knights emerged, swords gleaming in their hands. The air seemed to freeze. But Vorosimorsk had no time for useless dialogue. He shouted:

  "Fire at will!"

  Gunfire erupted like thunder. Bullets sliced through the air, piercing armor and flesh. The knights had no time to react, falling one by one in a pool of warm blood. The one who had spoken also met the same fate, collapsing in his own blood. When the gunfire ceased, the grand hall was left with the smell of gunpowder and heavy breathing.

  "Clean up thoroughly," Vorosimorsk ordered, his gaze as sharp as a knife. Kamarov, a seasoned soldier, bent down to pick up a gold bracelet from the enemy's corpse, chuckling softly: "Now those anime my kid watches don't seem so far-fetched... Talk too much and die early."

  They continued toward a large door at the end of the corridor. A soldier pushed the heavy door open. As the light from the flashlight flooded in, the scene inside revealed itself: a long table surrounded by bearded men, their faces pale. At the center sat an elderly man, his eyes filled with fear – the king of Rowlia.

  "This is the Russian army! Surrender to receive mercy!" a soldier shouted.

  The sound of helicopters outside mingled with the echo of gunfire, emphasizing the undeniable authority of the Russian army. The king, trembling, stammered: "W-what do you want? Money? Or anything I can give?"

  Rompev stepped forward, his voice calm yet powerful: "It's simple. Eliminate the monarchy. Replace it with a democracy."

  The room fell silent as if all the air had been sucked out. Eyes met in confusion and fear. After a moment of silence, one person stood up, trembling, raising his hand: "I... I agree!"

  The domino effect began. Others stood up in turn, agreeing, though panic was evident in their eyes. However, there were still stubborn individuals sitting in silence, challenging authority with their silence.

  "Now then..." Rompev concluded, raising his hand for a signal. Gunfire erupted, extinguishing all resistance. The king remained seated, eyes wide as if unable to believe what had just happened.

  "Goodbye, monarchy." A bullet ended his life on the spot. Vorosimorsk turned to the surviving generals, leaving a warning: "Remember, no one enters here. This is just a rebellion. Understood?"

  They nodded, fully aware of their fate if they disobeyed. The Russian soldiers continued their final mission, raising the flag atop the palace, marking their victory. But everything was not over. As they left, a bolt of lightning split the air, striking near them.

  Selmos appeared, surrounded by magical light. "You dare invade this place? Experience the power of a royal wizard!"

  Flames erupted from his spell circle, slicing through the air like frenzied serpents. But the Russian forces were prepared. A flashbang grenade was thrown. The blinding light and loud explosion disoriented Selmos. Before he could react, a cold bullet ended it all.

  The operation concluded in chilling silence. The Spetsnaz team left the palace, leaving behind a recently obliterated dynasty. This was just the beginning – the first step in Russia's journey to conquer a new world.