A Black Market LitRPG

Riker fumbled his hands as he tried to pour the pellets into the canister from an ammo box, some of the pellets spilling out onto the floor. The small metallic pellets pinged off the rusted metallic sides of the machine gun, rolling towards a few cowering soldiers who held their helmets tightly.

A series of distant booms could be heard, causing them to flinch on instinct, knowing that it was another round of artillery fire from the Versian Military. The sergeant in charge of the platoon spotted the dropped pellets, slapping Riker on the back and roaring into his ears under the heavy din of gunfire. “PRIVATE! WE MIGHT HAVE SUPPLIES NOW, BUT THAT DOESN’T MEAN YOU CAN FUCKING WASTE THEM, YOU HEAR ME?”

“Sir yes sir!” Riker nodded, focusing on reloading the machine gun. The current Riker was a far cry from the Red Lion thug in the past – having been kicked out of the gang when he was transferred back from being a prisoner under Kyle.

He did not mind it either, the torture and beatings he had experienced under Kyle scarring him. However, he had failed to find any other suitable job, and his anger always got the better of him. Even the various mercenary and adventurer guild did not want to take him in either. He

The sergeant walked to the side of the machine gun emplacement, where two engineers were desperately trying to fix a portable point defence system. They held a piece of syringe-like equipment, aiming the nozzle at the gaps of the engraving and filling them up with a temporary conductive material, before using an etcher to redraw the traces.

“What’s the holdup? We have orders to push in five minutes!” The sergeant questioned the engineers as he squatted down into the mud as well.

“This one has been hit badly,” An engineer motioned to one of the portable devices. “It would only last a few seconds once an enemy machine gun has its focus on us.”

“And the other?”

“Completely fried, sarge.”

“Goddamnit.” The sergeant scratched a rash on the back of his neck, contemplating. It would be a death wish to try and push the frontline without a point defence system blocking at least a few of the shots.

“Sir! Loaded!” Riker yelled out, readying the machine gun and aiming it at the enemy frontline.

“Men! Ready yourselves! You’re all professional soldiers – you knew what you were signing up for!” The sergeant hollered as he walked down the trench, where the soldiers were desperately checking their equipment. The nerves got to a few of them, their hands shaking and trembling as they peeped over the trench, seeing a no man’s land of a few hundred meters.

With the fresh supplies provided by Kyle, Count Leon’s forces were now about to break the stalemate that had been occurring for over a moment, ready to push forward.

The soldiers in the trenches were well aware that they were just numbers in a wargame. One of the soldiers clutched his proposal ring tightly, mumbling to himself in a chant to steel his own heart. “I’m going to propose if I survive, I’m going to propose if I survive.”

[All platoons, prepare to charge on next artillery barrage.]

The soldiers got ready, with some donning on their arctech knight armour, preparing themselves for the first push while the platoon sergeant walked briskly through the trench, his once shiny boots already covered in blood and mud.

“Yual himself today is with us, gentleman. Do you see Tenar in the distance? There it is, just waiting for our final call of victory and triumph. Do you want to return a hero?! Or return a coward!?” The platoon sergeant roared as soon as he heard the command on his arctech radio. He needed the morale of the soldiers to be high to prevent a rout once they were in no man’s land.

“A HERO!” The soldiers chanted back in reply, the peer pressure beginning to seep into the forces, lifting their spirits.

“When your wife or fiancée asks you what you did in battle, would you say you ran with your tail between your legs?”

“NO!”

“What would you tell your children when they ask you about the glorious battle? That you fled like a coward, unwilling to push against the enemy?!”

“NO!” Even Riker was shouting along, easily influenced.

“Then steel your hearts and souls! For today, we return to Raktor as heroes of a new age!”

A deafening volley of mortar and artillery fire was launched from the Yual forces, shattering the weakening Versian point defence systems and slamming their entrenched positions, limbs and dirt mixed in the air in the ensuing explosions.

The soldiers’ spirits were lifted even higher when they saw and heard the screams of the Versian soldiers on the other side. “Look, their point defence system has been knocked out too!”

“Supporting fire, now!” Another sergeant commanded Riker.

Riker steeled his body, anchoring his feet as he fired the machine gun, the recoil from the action-reaction force and transfer of momentum rattling his bones as he kept the gun steady, targeting previously spotted enemy positions and unleashing pellets on them, forcing the Versian soldiers on the other side to take cover temporarily.

The platoon sergeant grabbed a banner, the flag of Count Leon. “Soldiers of Yual! Come and seek your colours. Find your place as a man! CHARGE!”

“YAAARGGGHHHH!”

Across the entire trench line, the Raktor soldiers began to pour out like a swarm of ants, charging across the no man’s land, capitalising on the suppressive fire of the machine gun emplacements. Warmachines and armored wagons pushed forward as well, providing cover for the charging infrantry in a combined arms attack. Versian artillery quickly opened blind fire on the charging troops. The shells levelled the ground, pummelling the troops and the thick armour of the wagon while the brave soldiers rushed under direct fire.

The faster ones sprinted through the no man’s land, covering the gap under a minute before reaching the trench, only to be immediately gunned down by Versian soldiers waiting in the trench.

“Grenadiers!!” The platoon sergeant roared as he waved the banner frantically, the flag already riddled with holes. A squad of soldiers flung a series of explosives right into the trenches, blowing up the hiding Versian soldiers and flushing out the trench in a blinding explosion, while the other squads quickly exploited, entering the trench and engaging in close-quarter combat.

The war machines rolled right up to the edge of the trench, unleashing their liquid flamethrower and dousing the screaming Versian soldiers in flames, burning their flesh and bones in harrowing torture. Their mounted machine guns fired rapidly as well, gunning down swaths of cowering Versian soldiers who did not have the equipment to fight head on.

Mines were tripped, with the weak underbelly of some war machines blown up, igniting the arcia fuel within and immolating the crew within as well. The flames and smoke leaked out through the top hatch like a burning house; the same scene played out all across the length of the trench line, which stretched for kilometres.

Each section of the trench line was under simultaneous attack, with casualties and wounded increasing on both sides. The fierce onslaught soon broke the morale of the Versian soldiers, who began to flee towards Tenar, routed. Even the artillery shelling stopped, as the Versian generals frantically recalled them as well. Each artillery and mortar was a precious resource, and with the Yual soldiers within striking range and clear line of sight of the gun flashes, they were not going to risk giving it up.

[West flank of the trench is cleared.]

[East flank cleared.]

The observer reports came in rapidly, with camp aides pushing markers around on a map, denoting the positions of platoons and brigades. The map was on a far larger scale, denoting the current division as the west division.

“Sir, the push is a success.” An officer reported to the division commander.

“Good! We shall now send the fourth and third brigades to flank the other trench lines.”

The trench line here was only part of a larger defensive line of the Versians, with four other divisions under Count Leon pushing hard against the remaining two divisions. With the western flank of the defensive line broken, Count Leon now could have his west division swing around to trap and capture the Versian divisions.

The Versian divisions soon began to retreat under a general command, with the flank exposed. “Regroup at the second defensive line!” The generals ordered, organising the divisions to evacuate before they were surrounded on all fronts quickly.

Count Leon smirked as he watched the fleeing Versian divisions scrambling back to Tenar, its stone walls a speck in the horizon. This was a major victory considering the stalemate of a month before, though he knew he had to contest with a second defensive line. “Casualties?”

“Insignificant, sir. We still retain more than 90% of our fighting forces.”

Most of the Versian troops managed to make it out, which meant that Count Leon would have to deal with a concentrated military force later. Count Leon immediately gave chase to prevent the Versian military from regrouping, capitalising on Kyle’s ability to provide supplies on the move. At the same time, Kyle’s observers in the stealth hovercraft provided real-time updates on all military movements, tracking for any flanks or ambushes.

“Push hard! Tenar is within reach!” The soldiers on the ground marched fast, lugging their equipment as the faster wagons trailed the fleeing Versian military.

Nearly a day passed, with the chase even extending through the night. Count Leon’s baggage train shifted forwards as well, moving quickly in a blitz towards Tenar. Battles and small skirmishes erupted all through the night, as stragglers and entire artillery squads were captured, far too slow compared to the fast-moving armoured wagons of Raktor.

The two Versian military divisions were dispersed even more, as every soldier tried to live for themselves, unwilling to be killed. The Versian generals desperately tried to control their men, but it was far too late, as the chaos had already taken over. The originally orderly retreat had now turned into a full ruckus.

Wagons, people and baggage were moving in nearly every other direction than towards Tenar, with many soldiers hoping to get out of the battle. “Tenar is lost! We can’t hope to stop them now!”

The despair spread rapidly, with the lack of cohesion making it even easier for Count Leon to catch them, earning him even more equipment and supplies.

Soon, Count Leon’s forces came to a stop, the towering stone walls of Tenar clearly visible from five kilometres away. The soldiers immediately came under artillery fire from the city walls, forcing them to stop and begin the entrenchment again.

Finally, the grand prize. “Any word from our supplier?”

“No sir, radio silence so far.”

Count Leon waited for a few more hours, but soon, the lack of communication began to worry him. What’s going on inside the city? “Is the infiltration force ready?”

“Yes sir. I’ve selected the best of the best.” The infiltration force was made up of Count Leon’s personal retinue of knights, having decades of training under their belt, including experience from the previous Versian war.

“Once entering Tenar, link up with the local rebellion. Quote Goddess Nona and the Ghost of Tenar to the locals, and create a forward beachfront for our forces to begin moving into Tenar.

He immediately ordered the infiltration force to begin moving under cover of night, masking every form of light as they snuck towards a pre-determined catacomb entrance agreed upon.

However, as they neared the entrance, they soon spotted a platoon of Nest soldiers covering the entrance, patrolling the area. The infiltration force moved even closer, before launching a surprise attack on them. The Nest soldiers were not as well trained as Count Leon’s knights, who easily massacred all of them in a swift manner.

“Gas masks!” The knights prepared their equipment, ready to enter the catacombs. They dropped down the shaft with a loud thud, the catacombs completely empty. They followed the sewage, tracing it towards the edge of Tenar’s underground.

Count Leon waited patiently as artillery fire continued to resound through the night, with both sides testing each other. Soon, a new observer report came in, causing Count Leon to worry slightly. “The Versian military is retreating on the other warfronts?” This means that they are going to try and surround me. “How long till they arrive?”

“In about a week, sir. Three days if they move fast.”

“Quickly tell the other Counts to give chase.”

“Yes, sir, right away!”

Count Leon furrowed his brows as he rested his arms on the table with the map of Versia. He knew that the Counts would not give chase and would instead be happy to let the Versian military flank him. This made the capture of Tenar even more imperative. I must capture the city in a week!

M.G.Driver

Again, you don't have to click if it doesn't interest you - here's the blurb:

Imagine a Xianxia MC. Imagined? Good.

You might think he fights other young masters, face slaps them, gets the jade beauties that aren't actually green, and becomes an immortal. If you have imagined that, congratulations, but that's not who I am.

I'm apparently Demonic Sect Elder, Type A. Crippled, and in severe need of disciples. Help.

A bit of a twist on the usual wuxia trope, and I quite like it. Not exactly the best, but a fun read nonetheless. Give a try if you're interested in such a genre.