January 23, 2021/4018, Fourth Era.

  Motenot Base.

  Under the absolute command of the Emperor, the mighty royal armies and loyal nobles were summoned and assembled here. Motenot, a major military base of the empire, had always been the gathering point for Papaldia's expeditionary forces before launching large-scale military operations. It was located in a mountainous desert, a place with nothing but tumbleweeds and dried-up dead trees.

  The terrain here was perfect for any army capable of long-range attacks to defend. Inside the base, General Cavil—tasked with leading this force to retaliate against the barbarians who had dared to challenge the empire. The soldiers, upon hearing of the defeat of the expeditionary force led by Armandus, laughed and continuously mocked him. Even the survivors were not spared from the ridicule and humiliation from their own homeland for failing to defeat the barbarians.

  The desperate soldiers tried to explain, but it seemed impossible, as everyone was too accustomed to the empire's invincible victories. Though they had lost the ability to justify themselves, they remained composed. Shortly after that day, many soldiers who had participated in that battle immediately resigned. This incident caused significant conflict within the military, leading many others to declare that they would pacify Russia and the entire region.

  With the empire's strong military development over the past decades, there was indeed almost nothing that could defeat them. But for the Minister of Defense, it was different. He believed that an army capable of defeating the expeditionary force could potentially match them one-on-one. This was a highly plausible basis for further speculation. Louis was not an extreme nationalist, so he remained level-headed enough to make more accurate decisions.

  For this reason, renowned adventurers with good combat reputations were gathered to join forces with the royal army. According to Louis, adventurers were often overlooked by those barbarians compared to the empire's elite soldiers. That was when their value would shine; they would carry out ambushes to weaken the enemy's strength and morale. Though the proposal was opposed on the grounds of honor, no one objected when he said that defeat left no room for honor.

  Now, the famous adventurer teams were near the base, enjoying the feast Papaldia had prepared for them. The feast was anything but peaceful, as many had consumed too much alcohol, leading to clashes and endless duels. Though highly undisciplined, they didn't cause any significant trouble.

  Teams Voro-12 and Rys-21, after continuous high-intensity missions, were now at Rank D. Though the lowest here for various reasons, it didn't affect their work, even if they somewhat underestimated the importance of adventurer ranks. It played more roles than just showcasing experience and fame.

  Indeed, it was thanks to their rank that they could access missions like this. War wasn't new, but spying in this manner was truly hard to imagine. Yet now, it was oddly easy to picture. Regardless, the war was coming—it had already begun—they just didn't know what the army would do or where.

  ...

  Os Bay.

  The sky was calm, yet it wasn't. Offshore, dozens of ships from the Black Sea Fleet were stationed, with two Su-35S fighters and three Su-25SM3 attack aircraft advancing into the bay. The sun had set, and it was the perfect opportunity for the military to launch a preemptive strike on Papaldia's mainland.

  The attack was carried out silently, and no one could have anticipated anything, especially after a few days of delay to lull the enemy into complacency. The target was a partially autonomous coastal city with a significant military presence and an airfield long enough for Russian fighter jets to operate easily if the war dragged on.

  It belonged to Mu, who had invested in strategic and commercially important locations. This city—Kada—was chosen because it was close to many nations and convenient for gathering widespread information in Papaldia. It was no exaggeration to say that this place was highly favored by superpowers. But for the same reason, it would become the first crucial target Russia would have to capture.

  The pilots approaching the city gazed at the faintly lit scenery. To the naked eye, it was beautiful, with a unique style that many cities in the old world couldn't replicate. But on the radar, it was different—the dots representing the air force were wyverns patrolling at this hour. Though it was quite late, the patrol activities showed the nation's military readiness.

  But thanks to the long coastline and the underestimation of a modern nation with the perception of a less civilized one, coastal defense was neglected. It was also concentrated in more critical areas, making the defense line thinner for the Russian military to exploit, and it would become the first landing point for the troops.

  Captain Dmitry Ivanov, a veteran pilot with over 1,000 flight hours, stared intently at the radar screen. Small blinking dots in the upper right corner indicated three wyverns on patrol. Dmitry's eyes were cold and sharp, like the dagger he always carried.

  He pressed the signal button to communicate with the others. "This is Berkut-1, all formations, check systems."

  Quickly, responses filled his headset. "Grach-3 reporting, RWR system operational, payload full, ready for combat, over."

  Dmitry nodded. Everything was ready for a "silent strike"—a swift, precise, and untraceable blow. He switched to the internal channel, his voice deep and commanding:

  "All maintain formation. Lower altitude, do not exceed 500 meters. Avoid IRST detection. Berkut-2 and I will handle the high-altitude targets. 'Grach' only advances upon receiving the all-clear signal."

  (IRST: Infrared Search and Track system)

  Grach-2 heard this and questioned, "This is Grach-2, why? Isn't Papaldia only at the Napoleonic era? Over."

  Berkut-1 sternly explained, "This is Berkut-1. I'll only say this once, so listen carefully. Papaldia may be a less developed nation with low technological levels, but that doesn't mean they can't possess similar technologies. Any situation must be planned for. Even if they were prehistoric, we must be cautious—who knows what they could do with magic?"

  "I think I understand," Grach-2 said slowly, glancing at the radar. "So we should launch a preemptive strike, right?"

  "Exactly," Berkut-1 confirmed. "Now prepare, we're about to enter enemy airspace."

  With that, Berkut-1 accelerated his fighter alongside his wingman, leaving the Su-25s behind.

  The people of Papaldia in Kada were immersed in their daily routines. The clanging of hammers from the forge, the heavy creak of horse-drawn carriages on gravel roads, and the calls of street vendors filled the air. No one paid attention to the overcast sky, simply assuming it was a sign of an impending snowstorm.

  In a tavern, Papaldian soldiers were drunk, lost in their stories. Though it was daytime, they spent their time indulging in the warmth of the tavern, unaware of what was about to unfold.

  In a corner of the tavern, a group of soldiers from Harachirst Base drank and spoke loudly. "Have you heard? A barbarian nation has declared war on us!"

  "What?! No one's foolish enough to openly declare war on a superpower like us!" one replied, his breath reeking of alcohol. "Though it reminds me of a report saying the empire lost a battle, probably to the same people. Those barbarians think winning one battle makes them formidable!?"

  Another soldier chimed in, "But if they defeated us, they must be a significant force. We shouldn't underestimate them."

  Suddenly, a man burst into the tavern, panting. "There's something in the sky... large silver birds!"

  Hearing this, the soldiers burst into laughter, one mocking, "Large birds? Probably our wyverns, kid!"

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  But the atmosphere quickly changed as a deep, rumbling sound echoed from afar. It wasn't the wind or the familiar rustle of wyverns—it was a strange sound, like the breath of a giant metal beast.

  ...

  Earlier, in the sky, four dragon knights rode their wyverns on patrol over the western skies of the Papaldian Empire. The cold wind cut through their faces, but their gleaming armor and red cloaks bearing the empire's emblem fluttered fiercely.

  Leading them was Grand Knight Arden Voska, the most experienced in the team. His wyvern, a seasoned veteran of many battles, roared as it glided through the clouds. Behind him were three young knights, on their first patrol here after completing their training.

  "The sky is unusually calm today," one young knight said, his tone slightly relieved.

  Arden didn't respond immediately. He gazed intently at the distant horizon, the sharp eyes of a seasoned warrior missing no unusual signs.

  "Don't let the calm deceive you. Here, it only signals an approaching storm," Arden said sternly.

  Before he could finish, a piercing screech tore through the air. Arden squinted, seeing two small silver dots hurtling toward them at an unimaginable speed.

  "What the hell is that?" another knight shouted, yanking the reins of his wyvern to veer away.

  Two Su-35S fighters from the Russian Air Force shot toward them like silver arrows, their engines roaring, creating sonic booms. In the cockpit, Captain Dmitry Ivanov steadied the controls, his eyes focused on the radar. His Su-35S had locked onto the targets.

  "Enemy ahead. Switching to combat mode, twelve kilometers, prepare to engage," Dmitry's cold voice echoed through the comms.

  Berkut-2 responded succinctly, "Roger."

  From the wyverns, fireballs began to ignite. The Papaldian knights didn't hesitate, immediately urging their wyverns to attack from their mouths. Bright orange beams shot toward the two aircraft at terrifying speeds.

  But the "steel birds" didn't falter. Dmitry pulled the control stick, and the Su-35S banked gracefully, dodging all the beams as if playing a deadly game of hide-and-seek.

  "This is interesting. Let's finish this," Dmitry said with a faint smile, pressing the missile launch button.

  The R-77 missile left its rack, streaking at supersonic speed, leaving a long white trail. A knight behind Arden didn't realize what was happening.

  "What's this? That's not magic!" one shouted in panic.

  In an instant, the missile struck the unfortunate knight's wyvern. The explosion lit up like a giant fireball, tearing the mighty creature to pieces. The knight and wyvern fell freely, creating a fiery descent from the sky.

  Arden roared, "Be careful! Disperse the formation!" But this only added to the chaos.

  On the ground, the city of Kada was in turmoil from the roaring sounds above. The people, accustomed to the sight of wyverns flying by, were now anxious from the explosions in the sky. The roar of the Su-35s and the booming explosions caused the people to scatter in panic.

  A middle-aged man stood in a field, looking up at the sky with confusion: "Is this... the wrath of the gods?"

  In the square, a crowd gathered, their eyes fixed on the sky. Children tugged at their mothers, pointing at the strange shadows gliding across the sky.

  "What's that? Aren't those wyverns?" a trembling boy asked.

  An old man with a cane, shaking, said, "I've never seen anything like this... This is an omen!"

  The people, used to the might of Papaldia's wyverns, could only watch as the burning wyverns fell to the fields, creating billowing black smoke.

  Arden gritted his teeth, his eyes red with rage. He urged his wyvern to chase after those things, but it was simply impossible.

  "I won't let this humiliation continue!" Arden shouted, launching a fireball.

  The fireball shot at incredible speed, but Dmitry's Su-35S merely banked, dodging the attack. Immediately after, an R-73 missile was launched.

  Arden only saw the blinding light before the explosion engulfed him and his wyvern. His remains fell like a final flash of light in his glorious but short life.

  As the battle ended, the sky returned to silence. The two Su-35s roared away, disappearing into the clouds, leaving the ground in a state of shock.

  The people of Kada stood silently in the square, no one speaking. The church bell tolled ominously, like a prayer for the souls that had just vanished from the sky.

  An old man sighed, "We can't win. Those things... don't belong to this world."

  Far away, in the fields, the charred remains of the wyverns lay scattered, brutal evidence of the insurmountable gap in power. However, it wasn't over yet—something else was coming, and it would be even more intense.

  ...

  At Harachirst Base, the entire command was in chaos. The information about two high-speed objects that had suddenly attacked the city and taken down all the wyverns present had left everyone bewildered, unsure of who had carried out the attack.

  But based on the descriptions from the dragon knights before their deaths, they had wings but didn't flap. The only thing in the command's mind that matched that description was an aircraft, and it had to be a powerful one. And who else could possess such things—Milishial, famous for their state-of-the-art aircraft unmatched by any.

  They were the most suspicious, but there was no evidence. Avol, the commander at this base, listened to the continuous speculation but found it all worthless. He shook his head in dismay at this perplexing situation and didn't know what to do next to fit the current difficult circumstances.

  "Commander, I think we should increase the number of wyvern patrols to deal with those aircraft," one person said.

  "And then what?" Avol retorted. "Are we sending out target practice for them? First..." he stood up and said, "contact the central command, we need urgent support here and..."

  But before he could finish, someone ran in, looking anxious. "They're back, it's aircraft! This time, three of them!"

  "What?!" Avol panicked, ordering, "Quickly, get all the wyverns airborne, don't let them attack the base."

  "Yes," the person replied and left, while Avol quickly found a place to hide.

  Meanwhile, in the sky, the three Su-25SM3s had spotted Harachirst Base and could see the frantic activity below. Grach-1 communicated with the other two, reiterating the strategy.

  "This is Grach-1, repeating the strategy, numbers 2 and 3, each attack the command center and barracks, and destroy the warehouses, over."

  "Grach-2, understood, over."

  "Grach-3, understood, over."

  The confirmation marked the three splitting up. Grach-1 quickly approached the runway and saw wyverns attempting to take off. Not letting that happen, he used the GSh-30-2 cannon to fire continuously at the runway.

  Below, the dragon knights were trying to get their wyverns airborne to intercept the enemy. But things didn't go as planned. A barrage of tracers rained down on the runway, causing the lead knights to panic and pull the reins to stop, but it was futile as the tracers tore through the creatures in front. One knight jumped off his wyvern and narrowly escaped, but his luck didn't last.

  He looked up and saw something flying overhead at incredible speed, making him stagger back. Then came the black dots falling like rain, exploding upon impact, the rapid explosions quickly reaching the unfortunate soldier and killing him along with anything else on the runway.

  At the same time, Grach-2 and Grach-3 were carrying out their missions. Grach-2 flew over the barracks and spotted the prominent command center in broad daylight. The pilot quickly dropped two KAB-500L bombs and four S-8 rockets straight down, along with the GSh-30-2 cannon suppressing below, creating chaos for the soldiers.

  The explosions destroyed the structures below, throwing everyone into utter chaos, with everyone running to save their lives. Commander Avol, though hiding in a safe place, saw the devastating destruction before him—no one could survive such devastation. Those aircraft were too powerful, so powerful that he couldn't fathom why they had come to destroy this place.

  He glanced at the warehouses, and they didn't escape their fate either. The warehouses containing magic stones exploded violently. The purple hue of the explosions stood out from the typical explosives of Mu; the scene made Avol too terrified to escape.

  The soldiers ran but were utterly helpless against the bullets chasing them. Mutilated bodies filled the area, along with the fires making the entire scene horrifyingly deadly. As Avol was still immersed in his fear, a flash of light burst in the distant blue sky.

  The Kh-29L missile flew straight toward the bunker where Avol was hiding; by the time he realized it, it was too late. The massive explosion appeared amidst the battlefield, engulfing Harachirst Base in a sea of fire, with the survivors trying to escape the hell behind them.

  As for the attack aircraft squadron, after completing their mission, they quickly left and returned to Russia to prepare for subsequent sorties if needed. Grach-1 witnessed the scene below, nodded in satisfaction, and then headed toward the Black Sea Fleet waiting offshore.

  "This is Grach-1, target is ablaze, path is clear."

  On the Black Sea Fleet side, the flagship Moscow was stationed with dozens of other ships and a large number of landing craft slowly advancing toward the shore. After receiving the information from the attack squadron, the ships quickly accelerated toward the coastline.

  A civilian on the shore looked out to sea, seeing strange black dots and feeling a bit curious. But when he saw that they were dozens of ships heading straight here, he panicked, unable to determine the purpose of those ships, so he ran inside to report to the soldiers.

  Upon hearing the news, the empire's soldiers quickly armed themselves, waiting for a large-scale landing. They stood in formation on the beach, ready to face the enemy. Over 1,300 soldiers stood waiting for the enemy to approach and engage. But it turned out to be their mistake. The Ka-27 and Ka-29 helicopters advanced inland, astonishing the soldiers.

  The cabin doors opened, and machine guns fired straight down, killing many Papaldian soldiers without much effort. After the guards were eliminated, the landing craft successfully reached the shore and began the landing operation. IFVs and APCs, along with powerful combat tanks, advanced inland with agile soldiers.

  (IFV: Infantry Fighting Vehicle; APC: Armored Personnel Carrier)

  Faced with this surprise, the panicked civilians hid in their homes, while the Russian soldiers showed no mercy. The armored vehicles continuously knocked down anything obstructing their path to the city hall. The city's governor, seeing the Russian army advancing with overwhelming force, quickly surrendered, allowing the Russian army to take over the entire city with its 49,000 inhabitants.

  This first and crucial victory marked the beginning of the Russian Federation's rise as a superpower in this world. As for Papaldia, the price for provoking a bear always ready to fight had come, and it was now bloodthirsty.