Chapter 8: Vishwadwar-Part 3

23rd March, 1636, off the east coast of the Far West Island Chain, 5:32 A.M.

Under the dark blue-purple sky lit by moonlight and the stars was a calm ocean, seemingly untouched by the worries and wishes of man. Flowing over the ocean surface was a calm, lazy ocean breeze, gently caressing the ocean surface as it went on its path, from one end of the endless horizon to the other.

The serenity of the scene was deceiving, putting a curtain over the tension and the conflict happening around it, no matter how historical or how insignificant it may be.

Yet, just like every curtain must be pulled aside eventually to reveal the stage and the actors, this curtain too was opened, by a large formation of helicopters flying close to the surface, heading East, screaming ahead at full speed.

The swarm of helicopters consisted of MLH Mayurs, ALH Dhruvs and Rudras, some in the greyish-blue paintjob of the Indian Air Force, some in the olive-green-and-sand digi camo of the Army Aviation Corps. The Mayurs had port-side door gunners manning the FN MAGs, their muzzles turned to twelve o-clock. The Rudras were thrown in the mix for providing an extra bite of fire support in addition to the attack helicopters that had departed just minutes ago.

The formation looked imposing and majestic from the outside. More than hundreds of aircraft, flying in perfect coordination towards their target, close to each other and the ground. The sound of the gentle breeze was drowned out by the sound of the chopping of the rotor blades and the sound of the Shakti turboshaft engines humming at full power.

Each helicopter was cramped with troops from the 54th Infantry Division of the 21st Corps of the Indian Army. Inside the helicopters, the atmosphere was tense. This was the largest amphibious assault the country had ever carried out outside training exercises, so naturally the pressure was high. Each soldier was tensed up in his seat due to nervousness and excitement, his INSAS 1C upright between his legs and pressed tightly between his knees. Some were quietly humming their favourite songs, some were fiddling around with their NVDs out of nervousness, and some were making light talk. The inside of the helicopters was quite dark, illuminated only by one or two yellow coloured-lights in the cabin.

Havaldar Kailash Mitra checked his rifle calmly. Under his protective glasses, his calm eyes reflected his experience in the field, something he had cultivated over a long time in the blood-stained valleys of Kashmir, as well as the scorching sands of Africa. Unlike the rest of his team, he wasn’t that new to seeing combat, neither was he new to seeing nightmarish things on a daily basis.

“Alpha-1, be advised, feet dry in 60 seconds.”

The pilot’s voice rang in. Mitra peeked outside from one of the tiny windows. He could see a dark shape becoming larger and larger on the ocean surface as the helicopter formation came closer to the beach. In the distance, gunfire from one of the attack helicopters could be heard occasionally, as the rest circled around the area, ready to rain lead on anything that posed a threat to the infantry.

The time had come. Mitra turned to his squad, cramped up in the cabin, and spoke in a loud, commanding voice.

“Alright boys! This is it! Today you’re going to see real action for the first time! Joyride’s over! Get ready to dismount!”

With a rustling noise, the soldiers inside began prepping for dismount. Magazines were checked and rechecked, NVGs were adjusted, and lucky charms loaded.

The helicopter lurched backwards slightly as the pilot skilfully slowed down the aircraft as it came closer to the beach. Mitra could now see the result of the result of the attack helicopters’ gun runs. He could make out dark puddles of blood and shapes of human body parts against the sand of the beach.

The helicopter touched down with a slight jerk, synchronising its landing with the other helicopters’ landings as they broke off from the large formation and touched down at their designated spots on the beach.

“Dismount! Dismount!”

Mitra shouted as he jumped off the starboard-side door of the Mayur. Sprinting a few steps, he quickly crouched down, his INSAS 1C aiming at the front, as the others of his squad jumped out and formed a defensive perimeter around the helicopter. A strong vortex of sand and dirt blew around them as the rotor blades spun, blowing small debris and dirt up in the air. The deafening roar of the rotors and the whirring of the engines dominated the scene, its might crushing every other sound.

“Alright, move up!”

Mitra shouted out as he flipped his NVGs, the BNVD-P, on. His vision turned a bright green, freckled by blindingly-bright spots coming from the star above and from the blinking lights from the helicopters. In the hazy, green glow, he could see thin, narrow beams of bright light moving around, coming from his and his buddies’ laser sights and laser pointers.

The squad was immediately on its feet, maintaining their distance and moving deftly along with the squad leader. Multiple laser beams moved across Mitra’s shoulder’s scanning the beach and the buildings. Often, the beams would focus on a window, constantly aiming at it as the soldiers moved, before switching targets and scanning another window, waiting for a target to pop up.

“Contact front, 50 metres! UBS-Alpha!”

A rifleman called out. Mitra aimed his rifle directly at the front, at a figure moving near what looked like a small villa, his sight’s reticle overlapping with the dark figure.

The figure, a dark elf, had probably peeked out of one of the buildings when he felt the storm had subsided. He had also probably seen the Indian troops, since he had a sword in his right hand, lifted in front of him, as he approached the Indians.

“Engage, engage!” Mitra ordered as he pulled the trigger twice in quick succession.

The ground below him lit up for a moment from the muzzle flash from his rifle. In the green glow, bright tracers flew towards the target, blowing up a puff of slightly red-coloured dirt as they entered the target. The dark elf crumpled and fell over, never to wake up again. More tracers from the other riflemen impacted his body, kicking up more dust and sand, confirming the kill.

“Cease fire, cease fire! Alright, he’s down. Move up!”

Mitra shouted as the squad began moving again. They had now entered the enemy base that had been hit by the attack helicopters’ gun run before their arrival. The gory result of the gun runs was now around them, as they trudged carefully around puddles of blood and completely destroyed elf corpses as well as body parts. Strewn all around were also torn pieces of clothing, medieval weaponry, both shattered as well as intact. In contrast, the buildings seemed mostly untouched, considering the place was targeted by attack helicopters.

The group approached the first set of buildings. The ground around them looked much clearer than the one before, with no bodies or debris in sight.

“Contact, multiple UBS-Alpha, 150 metres, front!”

Suddenly, someone on Mitra’s right shouted. Right ahead, beyond the buildings, was a group of dark elves. Many of them seemed to be armed with swords bows, cautious of the unfamiliar sound heard a moment ago. Some were wearing robes, and from the glimpse Mitra could get of their armour from under their robes, they were probably officers of high status. These ones carried long, weird walking sticks, identified as a “magic staff” by some of the younger members during the operation briefing.

The crowd of dark elves had likely seen them, as they immediately begin charging towards the Indian group, screaming, swords raised above their heads. The robed ones raised their staffs in the air, casting a fireball, its light illuminating Mitra’s NVGs.

“Spread out and open fire!” Mitra shouted as he positioned his rifle on the fence outside the compound. Aligning his reticle with the lead elf, he pulled the trigger.

Tracer fire erupted from the group, which had now spread itself around the western edge of the compound, staying outside the fence. The tracers ripped through the crowd blowing up a multitude of small puffs of dirt and blood.

The elves were shocked. This was a kind of attack they hadn’t ever expected. The elf mages and superior officers leading the formation were confident about the large crowd of elves being able to push through any threat. But not this. They had no idea what this attack was, what magic was used, or how it could be countered. Before the elves could even take a few steps towards the enemy, they were being torn apart. Panic began to set in. More elves tumbled to their deaths from the precise gunfire from the Indians as the confusion and chaos began to take over.

“Sharma! Get the MG here!” Mitra shouted as he changed magazines, deftly slipping the empty mag into the mag pouch.

“Yes sir!” the squad’s machine gunner responded as he ran around to behind him, carrying his FN Mag.

“Sharma! Put some suppressing fire on those bastards!” Mitra commanded as he moved aside as Sharma deployed the bipods and switched off the safety, all the while Mitra dumped lead into the target, one round at a time.

“On it!”

Sharma replied, aligning the machine gun’s BEL holosight with the crowd, and pulling the trigger.

The machine gun sent 5 round bursts repeatedly into the swarm of dark elves, immediately stopping their advance. Those leading the charge in place of the fallen elves had their flesh blown off, brains splattered and scattered. The ones behind them followed the same fate a moment later as new bursts arrived.

“W-W-What sorcer--” One of the robed ones shouted before being silenced permanently by a 7.62x51mm round through his forehead.

Only gunfire dominated the air. The repeated bursts from the machine guns, coupled by the symphony of rifle fire, prevailed. To his right in the distance, Mitra could hear more gunfire, indicating that the other squads had made contact as well.

The crowd of the elves had now dwindled down. Everyone in the crowd was retreating. Those that weren’t, or were confused, were getting cut down by tracer fire.

“Alright, move up! Check these buildings for stragglers or civilians!” Mitra gave out another order as he got up from his position, still firing his rifle in semi-auto at the mass of elves. The rest of the squad too, got up from their position along the fence and began moving along the fence, the pointman keeping his eye on the front and occasionally shooting whenever movement was sensed in the pile of bodies right in front of them.

“Sharma! Pack up, we moving!”

Mitra tapped his machine gunner’s shoulder as he and the assistant gunner provided covering fire for him.

“Aye aye, sir!” Sharma replied, getting off the ground swiftly, folding his bipod.

With the squad split into two, each group took the building in front of them. Sticking to the wall, with each checking the windows to dispose any hostiles who dare ambush them from the windows, they finally arrived at the door of the buildings on the other side.

As the others began setting up security around the compound, Mitra lined up alongside the wall behind the pointman. The others piled up behind him, with some maintaining security over the windows. Their swiftness reflected their training in CQB, which they had undertaken a week prior to this operation.

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“Breach.” Mitra commanded the pointman, tapping his shoulder.

“Breaching!” The pointman shouted as he punched two rounds through the door lock and kicked it open with his foot.

Mitra entered the room first, as his pointman swung back to his position. The building was quite dark inside, even with NVGs on. Mitra took the right, as the man behind him took left. Others poured through, securing all the sectors inside the room.

“Alright, room’s clear. Sharma, Kumar, Sahni, you all with me! Rest hold!”

Mitra shouted as he and the other three infantrymen began lining up with him. Mitra took position right beside the wall near the only other door in the room. Straining his ears, he listened for movement.

“Sahni, take point.” Mitra commanded as he checked his magazine.

“Yes sir.”

“Ready to go, sir.”

“With you, sir.”

“On you, sir.”

As his men piled up behind him, Mitra gave the call.

“Breach.”

Another gunshot. A loud thud, as the door was kicked away. Sahni swung away on the other side of the door, opposite to Mitra. Mitra swung around the corner, rifle switching from low ready to ready.

It was a bedroom, spacious and rather luxurious. On the bed were the outlines of a human figure, lying limp. Human females, completely naked, with heavy metal collars in their necks and chains on their wrists.

Suddenly, a shadow appeared from the corner of his eye. Mitra immediately turned to engage him, but he was a bit too slow.

“Haa!”

The dark elf screamed as he tried slashing at Mitra using his sword. Mitra jerked back, using his rifle as a shield. The sword hit the upper part of the receiver, making a clanking noise.

The possessor of the sword, a dark elf with a wide grin and a haggard face, shouted.

“Humans! I knew it! T-They were wrong, no human can g-go against e-elves withou---”

Two gunshots. The elf was stunned. In front of him was the emotionless, stone-cold face of the Havaldar. His eyes moved down, towards his waist.

Mitra’s pistol. His Glock was pressed against the elf’s torso, right where his kidneys would be, and the gun’s muzzle could be seen slightly covered in blood.

Mitra applied force in his left arm, shoving the elf away, giving him no time to recover and understand his situation. Bringing the Glock up, to the ready position, he pressed the trigger twice, confirming the kill.

Turning his head to the captive women, Mitra found them awake, slowly backing away on the bed. The ear-piercing sound of 9mm rounds going off in the room had jolted them awake.

“Sir! You good?!” his men arrived from the back, immediately spreading inside the room and covering every sector, their rifles at ready.

“Damn, they weren’t lying about the slaves part, were they……” one infantryman spoke, a deep frown forming on his face as he looked at the frightened women and the dead elf on the floor.

“I’m good, tell command we got civilians here. Possibly the ones the pointy-eared fucks talked about. Tell em’ they might wanna have them extracted from here.”

Mitra gave out orders as he approached the captive slaves carefully. Right now, he was dealing with civilians who were, to put it lightly, not really fortunate enough. These were people who had lost their family and everything, stripped of their dignity, and have been subject to unspeakable horrors. Traumatised and scared, unsure about what the future may bring for them. And these people had just been caught up in the middle of war. And a war that in all likeliness, seemed terrifying to them, considering how far beyond their comprehension it was. It was, therefore, important to calm these women down, and have them cooperate with the Indian soldiers, because panicking civilians are always a problem in any conflict zone.

“It is okay, we won’t hurt you. You are safe now.” Mitra raised his arms in the air, trying to appear as friendly as he could. The women were still afraid, preferring to keep their distance.

One of the women, with short, shoulder-length hair, timidly decided to take a leap of faith. She slowly approached Mitra, crawling on all fours on the bed. Mitra could see her lack of strength in the way here limbs wobbled when she tried to drag herself forward.

The other women turned pale, mustering up whatever energy they had to speak and warn her from going forward. Yet their exhaustion and weakness prevented them from even forming proper, coherent sentences.

The girl positioned herself a short distance from Mitra, looking at him curiously. Her white, small arms and legs supporting her were wobbling. Mitra didn’t speak, patiently waiting for the girl to speak something, deciding it was better not to rush things lest it made things worse.

“W-Who a-are y-yo…?” the girl timidly asked this question, after mustering whatever courage she could to talk to the strange looking man in front of her.

“We are from the Indian Army, there’s no need to be afraid, okay? We’ll not hurt you. We’re here to save you.” Mitra replied, trying his best to look as friendly as he could.

“…….s-save us?”

“Yes, save you. It will be fine. There won’t be any pain anymore now. Oye Sahni! Get a blanket here!” Mitra commanded, noticing the girl’s arms trembling and the complete lack of any clothing on her back.

“…….c-c-can I-I g-get a l-little w-wat…..” the girl trembled in a weak voice, trying to grab on the sliver of hope presented to her with whatever little strength she had.

“Sure, just a second….Here, drink slowly.” Mitra replied as he opened the cap on his canteen, crouching down as he carefully brought the mouth of the canteen towards the girl’s lips.

Sahni arrived from behind, carrying a small blanket found lying on the sofa in the previous room, as the girl slowly drank water from Mitra’s canteen. The girl flinched slightly, but continued drinking water from the mysterious metal box, her dry throat savouring the taste of nectar flowing through her lips.

“Wrap the blanket around her, Sahni.”

“Yes sir.” Sahni replied, carefully putting the blanket around her shoulders, over her head, as she drank water.

“Contact, close! UBS-Alpha, a lot of them!” Mitra heard shouting outside, and turned his head outside. Immediately, gunfire erupted again, this time slightly muffled by the walls of the building.

“H-Hiiiii….!?” The girl jolted, trembling and scared of the loud, unfamiliar noise.

“It’s okay, it’s okay. Nothing to be afraid of, okay?” Mitra reassured the girl, turning towards her. “Sahni, what’s the situation outside?”

“More of those pointy-ears, sir. They’re probably out of their holes to see what the heck happened.”

“Sahni, stay here and take care of her.” Mitra replied as he got up and turned to walk outside.

“Roger that.”

Outside, his squad had retreated inside the buildings for cover. The rooms were full of smoke from the guns, and the ear-piercing sound of rifle fire dominated the room. His men took turns firing outside the window before stepping back to reload, while his machine gunner and his assistant gunner were positioned on the window, pumping rounds and reloading swiftly whenever needed.

“One down!”

“Another one!”

“Changing mag!”

Mitra ran up to his machine gunner, who was now operating the Mag’s top cover as his assistant prepared a new ammo belt for reloading.

“What’s the situation?!”

“We got a lot of them pouring out from the buildings right in front, sir! More keep coming from the road ahead, but nothing troublesome as of now.”

“Good, keep it coming.”

“Roger that.”

Suddenly, Mitra’s radio cracked to life.

“Alpha 2 to Alpha 1, do you copy?”

“Alpha 1 copies. Send it.”

“This is Alpha 2, watch your fire, we’re coming in from your south. Over.”

“Copy that, Alpha 2.”

Mitra pulled up his rifle to ready as he gave out orders.

“Alright boys! We got Alpha 2 coming in from the South, so watch where you point that gun! And begin packing up, we’re moving up once they arrive!”

“Yes sir!!”

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From a window of a small warehouse near the burned wreckage of the base’s headquarters, peeked a pair of eyes, cautiously eyeing the outside world. Outside, the sky was turning slightly brighter, as unfamiliar sounds of explosions and seemingly-demonic, loud whirring noises dominated the area. The dirt path outside the warehouse was littered with corpses, some completely unrecognizable, and some recognizable. The recognizable ones had horror and shock frozen on their cold faces, as a result of still trying to comprehend the strange beast in front of them in their last moments.

“Anything, Erlan?”

A voice whispered from the back, as the owner of the pair of eyes, the Dark Elf officer named Erlan, turned his head back.

“Nothing, neither elves, nor whatever killed Sir Valmir. It’s completely empty outside.”

Erlan spoke, pointing outwards to a corpse lying directly in the middle of the dirt path, several feet away from the warehouse’s entrance. Even in the dark, it was evident that the corpse had shiny gold and purple armour, now stained a dark red from the puddle of the blood forming underneath it.

When the invasion from the mysterious demons started, many of the elves out in the open were killed immediately, while those that had been inside their offices or their bedrooms, or had successfully made it to their bedrooms, had survived. It didn’t take long for those with slightly higher intellect that this was probably their weakness, and as a result, many had dived for the nearest building they could find.

Obviously, not everyone made it. in the first place, there were few people who made the discovery quick enough to make a decision. Even fewer were those who actually made it inside. There were still many who had not yet made the discovery, and were seen aimlessly running from place to place, trying to hide in shadows, or sometimes join others to form small groups.

Now, however, things were starting to change. A new kind of demon had appeared this time, it seemed. One that looked oddly human, one that used strange, incomprehensible magic. Now, a different kind of noise was rising in the air, an incessant crack, thunder, accompanied by screams of dying Dark Elves.

Many elves had decided to step out and see for themselves what these were. To them, the new demon seemed comparatively easy to understand than the ungodly monsters constantly roaming the skies, waiting to prey to unsuspecting Dark Elves.

This proved to be a fatal mistake, however, for many met their fate the moment they stepped out of their haven. The lucky ones managed to last long enough to band together in small mobs to try and attack them, before meeting the same fate.

Erlan remembered seeing the Knight, someone he recognized as Sir Valmir, cautiously stepping outside his quarter’s door. He had been known as a distinguished Knight, with rumours circulating around how he singlehandedly took down a dragon without using any weapon or magic.

Sir Valmir had barely taken a step away from his door, when it happened. Erlan had watched as bright green ray of light pierced through Valmir’s chest, seemingly like an arrow lodged through a small, weak, helpless target, lighting up the surroundings for a brief moment, before continuing on.

Several more arrows pierced Sir Valmir’s torso and legs before his body could hit the ground. Accompanying the arrows were the same small, incessant cracks he had heard before. This time, they sounded much closer.

Everything had been silent since then. There were no elves peeking out the windows or doors anymore, at least not any he could see. Only he and his comrade remained, cautiously peeking out of the warehouse’s window to avoid suffering the same fate as Sir Valmir.

Erlan tightened the grip on his sword’s cold sheath. He and his comrade had been lucky enough to get to cover before the massacre started. They had watched in horror as the strange, unknown beasts-which they had started calling demons-rained death on their fellow elves. Erlan still could hear their screams in his head, despite the fact that it was mere minutes ago.

“Swap with me, Erlan. I’ll keep an eye out while you take a breather.”

“Thanks.”

Erlan replied as he slowly and quietly crawled back, while his fellow elf took his position, ducking beneath the window sill.

The air inside the warehouse felt dusty. The warehouse had not been used for some time, considering there was hardly anything significant happening that required handling of large amounts of cargo. As such, the warehouse was mostly unused and empty, untouched by elven hands for quite some time.

Erlan was getting comfortable in his sitting position when suddenly he was jolted up by loud noises again. He quickly crawled up alongside his comrade, peeking out from the corner.

Small explosions. The same sound they had heard when Sir Valmir had died. Now, they sounded much closer. Yet outside, there were no rays of light like then. The scenery outside looked as dead and empty as it had looked for the past few minutes.

“Do you hear that?”

“Hear what?”

Erlan quietly replied, perking up his ears.

“..they sound like voices, don’t they?”

“Wait…yeah, you’re right. They do sound like voices.”

“Any idea?”

Erlan scratched his head, trying to make sense of whatever he was hearing. The voices seemed to be coming from too far away to make any sense of what was being said.

“Dunno. Can’t tell anything they’re saying. Would be nice if they were elves.”

“…….yeah”

Both harboured the hope in their hearts that maybe the voices belonged to elves who had found a miraculous way to survive this nightmarish attack from demons. Yet both also knew that the chances of such a thing happening were slim, considering the way things were proceeding.

There was another question too: if the voices didn’t belong to elves, then whom did they belong to? The human-shaped demons? What if they were actually residents from the demon world who had risen from eternal sleep? They had no idea. All they knew was that right now, they were being hounded by something sinister.

“I’m going to take a peek.”

“What? You outta your mind? You’ll end up like old man Valmir there.”

Erlan looked at him incredulously, as the latter unsheathed his sword and slowly, carefully started to lift his body up.

“It’s fine. I’m not stepping out, just peeking out of the window. Not like they’re gonna be able to see.”

“As if you know.”

Erlan replied as he too slowly pulled himself up on his feet, as his comrade tried to get a glimpse of whatever was outside. Outside, the unknown voices were starting to become somewhat louder, yet still incomprehensible.

“See anything?”

Erlan spoke quietly as he lined up on the other side of the window frame, ducking below the window sill so as to stay hidden.

“Hmmmmm…..nothing yet….wait I think I see som----”

A crack. A loud explosion. Rather, a series of loud explosions. Erlan jerked backwards, tumbling towards the ground, his heart almost out of his body.

His elf buddy lay there, a foot away from the window. Bleeding. Dead. His chest torn open. Outside, the incomprehensible voices had increased in volume, accompanied by more cracks right outside the window.

It took Erlan several seconds to comprehend what had happened. His breathing now somewhat recovered, he quickly grabbed his sword in his now trembling hand and tried to get up. Yet his trembling legs refused to cooperate, no matter how hard he tried.

Suddenly, he heard something else. From far off in the distance, came a low, guttural groan, followed by the heavy roar of a large animal. The voices beyond the warehouse seemed visibly alarmed, now clearly louder and slightly panicking.

Erlan instinctively felt a chill in his spine. There was only one thing he knew, that could make such a thunderous roar: the land dragon.