Night 67, Daihokuriku
Good evening, diary. Here I am at the tail end of what had been a day filled to the very brim with action and excitement–not a single second of today was spent without blood being rigorously pumped throughout the entirety of my body. That is until tonight. Regrettably, I find myself once more in the dark, damp, insect-filled dugout of a trench, struggling to find a settled place to allow me to write. In this world without electricity, I only have the restless, orange flame of an oil lamp to accompany me, with the only other source of light breaking the shadow of the night being the silver glow of the two moons smiling down on us from above.
Instead of describing the unimaginative state of affairs that I am in right now, I opt to detail the events that transpired today and how I got here.
Earlier this morning, after I last wrote down something in this diary, I went straight to be given my gear and weapons before being directed to fill in the landing craft, which was being readied to be sent into the waves. There were a lot of these landing crafts spread among the many transport ships that came with the fleet, but for some reason that I will probably never know, we still had to be crammed into them like a pack of sardines. Luckily for me, I was able to get to the very edge of the craft, giving me a luxurious, unobstructed view of how things unfolded, although I was now more likely to fall into the ocean. Once things were set, and we were all itching to get out and blast the demons, the loud sound of whistles all across the ships being blown simultaneously filled the air, marking the start of our operation.
As soon as our landing craft roared to life and began plowing through the waves, hostilities commenced: looking closely at the wonderful cliffs and white, sandy beaches of the continent of Daihokuriku, I noticed something strange. Dotted all across the coastline, whether it be the towering cliffs or the perilous rocks jutting out of the sea, there were what appeared to be gigantic, humanoid statues colored a solid, shiny brown positioned equidistant from one another. At first, I thought these were some sort of curious, surreal art from the natives, similar to how we construct towering statues of Buddha but a bit more theatrical. Then, they all started moving in synchrony, their limbs, torso, and other body parts twisting and turning as if they were actual people. At that point, I dismissed any explanation that these were made possible by the natives’ magical sorcery present in this world as their poses struck home: they appeared like a baseball pitcher about to throw a fastball.
This was not lost on everyone else, who had also been captivated by the strange-looking statues on the beach. As soon as the statues’ poses changed in a second, we all ducked behind what cover we could find, for they had thrown something in our general direction. Mere seconds later, eye-blinding orbs of intense light–similar to the ones produced by the bombs the machine dragonflies dropped on the Atago during our crossing–manifested throughout the ocean, assaulting us in a shower of radiance, ocean water, and deafening blasts.
Kablam! Kablam!
Fortunately for us, the blasts missed our landing craft. Had it not been for our late realization that those statues–golems, as I prefer to call them–were actually another non-monstrosity asset wielded by the Demon Lord Nosgorath, we would not have been here watching two of our landing craft and the (surviving) men that they carried capsizing into the ocean. As much as it ached me to have the landing craft stopped to help them, someone’s got to fuck the demons up and so our boats continued for the beaches. As luck would have it, however, the great iron hulks of the Navy getting smaller and smaller behind us did not fail to catch sight of what had happened. I watched as their massive turrets with their gigantic guns slowly turned to train their impressive, intimidating bores on the coastline of Daihokuriku, ready to send true hell to the demonic golems that stood ready to shower us with more bombs.
Then, more explosions rocked the battlefield, but not from the demons’ bombs.
Boom! Boom! Boom!
A cacophony of distant blasts assailed our bodies as fireballs erupted from the guns of the armada behind us. Unlike the near-perfect explosions I saw, these were a lot more crude and all-over-the-place in comparison, but these were the ones that I wanted to see. The sky was dotted by fast-moving shells of various caliber–all huge and packed with explosives–destined to rock the shores of Daihokuriku. Seconds later, a row of violent eruptions of sand, rock, and water assailed the entire coastline appearing like a raging sandstorm on the coast. It took minutes for the dust to begin to settle but by that point, it was already apparent from the lack of counter-battery explosions that the golems had been silenced–hopefully for good.
As our landing craft got closer and closer, the dust had settled, revealing a violently destroyed landscape: craters on the beach, pulverized rock boulders and cliff faces, and fallen and burning trees. While it was a shame that we had to defile the natural beauty of the otherworldly continent before us, I felt much more calmed by the complete lack of surviving golems. Sadly, I exhaled my sigh of relief too early: another swarm of mechanical demon dragonflies–their arms all holding bombs–appeared over the skies of the forests, buzzing their way at significant speed towards us. At that point, with the fleet’s venerable anti-aircraft guns too far to cover us and us having little to no anti-aircraft weapons of our own, I was more or less convinced that that was the end of the road for us. Taking a deep breath and closing my eyes, I prepared for the inevitable hellfire to consume when...
BrrrrrrrrRRRRRR!!!
The thunderous grumble of possibly a hundred radial engines approaching us rang out all across the vicinity. Behind us, a bigger swarm of carrier-launched planes donning the proud red Hinomaru zoomed at a faster speed towards the incoming dragonflies. Before long, their showdown began, opening with a blitz of autocannon fire from our fighters. Some of the dragonflies were shot down or blown up, but a majority managed to use their unbelievable nimbleness to get out of harm’s way; either way, it didn’t matter since they were now too distracted to attack us and the landing craft.
As the dogfight continued above our heads, raining down the occasional chunk of burning metal on us, our landing craft continued to get closer and closer to the beaches. Minutes passed on as we kept our heads low under the shadow of the still numerous dragonflies buzzing about. Then, finally, the grumbling of the craft’s engine died down, and before long, we felt the iconic thud of the hull hitting the sand. As soon as the ramp dropped onto the beach, we all ran out of the landing craft and placed our boots firmly on the wet, soft sand. Unlike the machine gun fire and artillery I’d have expected from such a beach landing, we were instead greeted by a horde of all sorts of monstrosities flooding out of the forest; even the more humanoid ogres and goblins armed with clubs and weapons came out to fight.
Seeing them, our officers immediately ordered us to hit the dirt on the countless craters created by the naval bombardment from earlier. Setting up our rifles, machine guns, and mortars and training their sights on the incoming beasts, we were primed for attack. Then, the order was given.
Pam! Pam! Tatatatatatata! Boom!
Replacing the hideous growling and roaring of the monstrosities was the disorderly symphony of thousands of guns firing. We saw results almost immediately. Just like back then on the fortified settlement near Nishinoseki, our bullets put a stop to the demons’ advance, killing or mauling them right where they stood. Just as the bodies of dead and dismembered demons started piling up, somewhat hindering the advance of the still living demons, the shells fired by our artillery cleared the way, allowing us to shoot more of them. After about 30 minutes of nonstop clip-to-clip action, the first large landing ships beached themselves, allowing for the first tanks and armored vehicles to step foot on the shores of Daihokuriku. These medium and light tanks quickly formed up and advanced, laying waste to entire formations of monsters who found themselves on the other end of their cannons. This armored advance rapidly turned into a breakthrough as they plowed straight into the hordes’ line like a hot knife through butter, allowing them to wreak havoc on the rear of the now-divided enemy force. This, along with our constant slugging of lead and explosives in their direction, was probably the dangerous envelopment that got them to turn tail and run as moments after our tanks began attacking their rear, they turned back towards the forest.
When I rolled and laid my back against the wall of the crater I was taking cover in order to reload a new clip, I caught sight of a peculiar development in the ocean. The air engagement against the dragonflies was already dying down in favor of our forces, but I noticed several aircraft, presumably dive bombers from the way they flew, heading towards an open patch of ocean far from the fighting. I watched as the bombers plummeted towards the ocean before pulling away, their ordnance producing enormous columns of water. What was it exactly that they were attacking? I doubted that it was some sort of sea monster, but after remembering that these are literally demons we were facing, something like that must exist. After watching for a minute or so, I saw a small warship, perhaps a destroyer, joining the fight and firing its guns at a seemingly empty patch of ocean. Before I could even ponder on what exactly I was watching, I heard the raspy voice of my officer from the corner of my ears.
“Men! Advance!!!”
Standing up from his prone position, he broke into a run towards the demon forces, firing his pistol in their general direction. We then followed his example and got up from our cover and ran across the beaches, joining thousands of other men all across the length of the coast, pushing against the fleeing demon hordes. When they disappeared into the forests ahead of the beach, we pushed in and gave chase, peppering any demon slow enough or unfortunate to have been caught on some hole in the ground with bullet holes. Just as they were tireless in their desperate flight, so were we in our relentless advance. Fortunately for us, our bullets traveled faster; even when they were seemingly outrunning us, we would gun them down. We chased after them, emerging from the forest and onto the wide open plains of Daihokuriku. When they disappeared behind a small hill, we went ahead and scaled it.
As we got to the top, we were treated to quite a sight: a massive city of ruined houses, crumbling palace complexes, and unharmed stone walls lay on the banks of a river delta emptying into the coast. Surrounding it were the ruins of acres of farmland with crops left unharvested, all withered and dead from the lack of farmers. The ruined, seemingly abandoned city lay around 3km away and was where the fleeing demons were headed. Given this, the abandoned city must have been Czoro, the supposed nest, and headquarters of Nosgorath’s hordes.
While some of us wanted to give chase and keep pressing the initiative, the bulk of us–including me–were dead tired from the running and climbing, not to mention that some of our vehicles had broken down, and we were running low on ammunition. After we spent some time catching our breaths, the order was given for us to set up camp and fortifications on the hill.
By the time we reached midday, a good portion of the trenches (at least the ones my unit was tasked with digging up) was done, but the assets–our heavy artillery, which were brought to the hill from the beaches–were entrenched, pointed at the settlement, and ready to fire. While we were in the middle of finishing the camp, our guns and howitzers roared to life.
Boom! Boom! Boom!
As I shoveled dirt out of the trenches, I watched as heavy ordnance found its marks on the ancient civilization-like buildings of Czoro, pummeling and reducing to smithereens the stone and mortar structures–hopefully, the demons, too, are annihilated. Meanwhile, in the foreground, some of our mounted units set out, probably to conduct reconnaissance of the area or to report if the demons were leaving the city. Above us, a formation of Navy bombers joined in on the so-called ‘fighting,’ dropping bombs that further leveled the abandoned native city. This scene continued even as if we had wrapped our construction, with the bombardment being sustained up until dusk. By then, the exhausted and worn-out artillery had had enough, and I could say that the same could be said for Czoro, which practically ceased to be a city due to the level of destruction we’ve brought upon it.
With the last vestiges of daylight disappearing from the sky, the night rolled in, and so did the silence–well, not counting the incessant chirping of insects. And so I find myself in this trench under the lamplight, struggling to get used to the victorious silence we’ve earned. The eyes on my comrades, setting aside the obvious exhaustion and lack of life in them, also tell of their disappointment in the lack of enemy action. Unlike back in Nishinoseki when we were yet to dip our toes in combat against the demonic horde, we were already more than aware of our superiority in firepower. Perhaps the enemy is aware of that too. Either way, I hope we’ll meet this Demon Lord figure soon if he ever did survive the bombardment. If his supposedly powerful magic lived up to the grandiosity of his name, then he should have been able to do so and threaten us with an attack, but as the night went on, nothing happened.
Well, my shift is soon ending, and I’m pretty much tired. I’ll catch some sleep as soon as my shift ends, so this is where I’ll leave this entry.
Night 68
At the break of dawn, as the first signs of light over the horizon, we were all roused from our sleep to form into our designated units and formations. From what we were told, reconnaissance units have maintained that no demons have left Czoro and that there were little–if any–signs that they were still there. Given that, our commanders have opted to advance into the city and search and kill any surviving monsters. By the time the sun had already risen above the mountains to the east, we were marching to the city.
Passing through the abandoned ruins of farmhouses and withering crops, I looked up at the city ahead of us. Only now, as we were getting closer, did I feel the extensive scale and expanse that the city covered. Its impressive, towering walls and opulent, boxy palaces were a sight to behold, even if much of them had been leveled by the artillery bombardment we had let loose yesterday. They reminded me of the design of grandiose Western buildings built all around and within Tokyo, despite being only there for a fraction of my lifetime. Getting closer, we opted to enter the city through openings that had been blasted through the walls instead of the gates since they collapsed from the bombardment. Setting foot inside the battered remains of the city’s one-meter-thick walls, I can’t help but be flushed with feelings of awe. Rudely awakening me from my tourist behavior were the bloodied remains of some of the demons, the blood part being all dried up and whatever was left of their bodies were now being feasted on by critters of all sorts. Either way, we all went separate ways to cover more ground in combing the city for survivors and signs of the Demon Lord.
Everywhere I looked, many of the stories these buildings had to tell–how they were built, who lived in them, why they left in such a hurry–were either now buried underneath several tons of rubble or were reduced to rubble themselves. In the five hours we spent checking every nook and cranny in the city, not a single time did I hear a gunshot going off. That and me finding not a single moving corpse of a demon, ogre, or monster in my own search led me to believe that the city must have been cleared of them by now; although whether or not it was our thorough artillery bombardment or that they escaped without alerting our reconnaissance units isn’t clear, even now as I write this. Whichever was the case, just before midday, Czoro was declared taken, and we were tasked with cleaning up and commencing the construction of defensive positions and accommodations in the crumbling city.
After a long day of helping in the clearing of tons and tons of rubble from what had used to be the city’s magnificent arched gates to allow for the entry of vehicles, I was finally dismissed from today’s work. Finding a bunk in the still intact and standing great hall, a building with an open interior supported by intricately designed columns located next to the open square that apparently hosted the marketplace, I was finally able to allow my back some rest. This is where I am right now, in the great hall which had been converted into a massive barracks for a good portion of the division-sized force sent to this place. Fatigue and a lack of threats beckoned me to close my eyes and sleep but it was exactly the latter why I couldn’t: where is the Demon Lord? They said that he would be here, but the entire place had already been leveled, and efforts to clear debris have so far turned up no corpses that matched the natives’ description of him. Even if I were to give the benefit of the doubt that he must have been reduced to a mist by the artillery bombardment, the fact that there had been no signs so far from the gods about the completion of our divine mandate here gives me the feeling that we have not yet screwed him over. Perhaps he was in a different city? Maybe he slipped away just as we were marching in?
Restlessness was starting to grip my mind. Perhaps I’ll take a walk along the great hall and maybe get some fresh air too.
- - -
Night 70, Czoro
Today marked a major turning point in our expedition not only on Daihokuriku but on this world as a whole. No, it wasn’t a major offensive or the establishment of a strategic fortification–it was something more groundbreaking.
Two days after entering and taking Czoro without a fight, we have been getting quite comfortable with our new accommodations. A new fortification had begun construction at the hill from where we bombarded the city, while minor port facilities were already being propped up at the beaches where we landed to ensure that supplies from the fleet were coming in by the truckload. We also finished clearing about 70% of the city’s streets, and yesterday, we welcomed the first natives who wished to resettle here. I myself had helped a normal-looking native woman–one without the animal features, their ears being long, or them being extraordinarily short–and two of her children resettle into their mostly intact home. Just as I had finished helping her patch up the gaping holes on their roof, we were all called by our officers to assemble for an announcement at the great hall.
There, as soon as the hall was packed to the brim with soldiers sitting on the floor, boxes, on the scaffolding dotting the columns, and so on, a spectacled fellow with a blank expression on his face–presumably our division commander, the lieutenant general–began to speak. I still remember the impatience and anxiety that permeated the atmosphere, telling of our restlessness on developments in the greater picture.
What he revealed, however, only worsened things among the soldiers.
In just five words, he managed to upset the bulk of us: “We lost sight of Nosgorath”.
In his explanation, the natives brought up what they knew about the Demon Lord during the crossing. Months after he had arrived at the southern coast of Daihokuriku, witnesses described that he was going in and out of Czoro, traveling out into the continent for days at a time before returning with more demons, dragonflies, and all sorts of unexplainable seagoing machinery. Based on this, the leadership deduced that the Demon Lord might likely be amassing his forces for a crossing and not to challenge our landing, as to where he was trying to go was anybody’s guess. When we arrived at the continent, our fighters apparently recognized him and a formation of fast-moving, launch-like boats heading southwest, leading to them attempting to intercept and stop him. This must have been the scene I caught sight of back on the beach, where dive bombers and destroyers attacked a seemingly empty patch of ocean.
This is where the bad news starts. They were able to successfully intercept and foil his attempt at the crossing, saying that they had easily sunk the many boats carrying ogres, orcs, and goblins, but statements from the airmen reported tell that Nosgorath had survived the ordeal and was swimming back to Daihokuriku. A frantic chase from the air ensued as fighters and bombers tried to spot and kill him, but they ultimately failed as many of the airmen insisted that they spotted a figure resembling his description, making it back to dry land and disappearing into the forests. While we were giving chase to the demons and pounding Czoro with our artillery, the Navy Air Service sent up most of its planes in a desperate manhunt for Nosgorath, which might explain why only a handful of bombers were sent to assist in the bombardment. However, after three days of fruitless search from the air of an area almost twice the dimensions of the Japanese home islands, the leadership conceded and declared that Nosgorath had indeed slipped away.
Groans of disappointment and frustration erupted from the soldiers. What was supposed to be a quick, in-and-out offensive into Daihokuriku to kill the Demon Lord to secure the completion of our so-called ‘divine mandate’ was now starting to look like months–probably years of deployment into this massive continent said to be as big as Asia itself. We were already low on manpower and resources as we have already settled and based most of our people back on Morigashima. Our ships, which could not be maintained due to the lack of supplies, raw materials, and shipyards, were on borrowed time, hence why it was getting more and more unsustainable to supply a force on a continent as far as Daihokuriku. The more superstitious soldiers who believed in the divine reward from completing the mandate were agitated; those who were not and just wanted to live their second chance at life in peace were also fuming. Most did not want to spend years combing every single nook and cranny on this gigantic continent.
Unsurprisingly, there were some who were at their boiling point: a group of men stood up and hurled shouts at the lieutenant general and the other commanders. Their show of disgruntled dissatisfaction spurned others to do the same, and before long, the great hall was awash in the shouts of thousands of angry soldiers. The commanders’ guards and some of the more moderate, optimistic soldiers who didn’t want violence to break out tried to keep some who had the tendency to send fists flying at bay.
It was chaotic, but it could’ve been a lot worse.
Some officers fired shots from their pistols into the air to restore order, telling all of us to disperse. Despite the overwhelming sentiment of frustration with how things are going, none of us appeared to want an outbreak of violence so far from the comforts of home in Morigashima, and so we all obeyed.
As we all went our separate ways to work and try to distract ourselves from the sour mood stemming from the announcement, I came across a sight I did not expect–not in a million years. Down an unassuming alleyway was a small gap in between the brick houses, which led to a slightly roomy, secluded clearing that was home to a tree that had bright pink leaves with white flowers all over. At first, I thought it was a cherry tree, a sakura, but given that this was a different world, it was likely not to be the case. Either way, it looked a lot like sakura, evoking memories of a bygone time when I used to eat dangos of all sorts of colors underneath the sakura in Saitama during the height of spring. I recall the smiling faces of my mother and sister, making me feel as if our financial problems were just as fleeting as the scattering cherry blossoms.
Suddenly recalling the memories of my past life and the bittersweet tinge that comes with it, I sat down on the foot of the tree and leaned on its dark brown trunk. Are my mother and sister okay? While I’d rather not think that they might have died, I would be lying if I didn’t wish that they were sent here with me. As much as it pains me to acknowledge that I will likely never know their fate, I didn’t really have much of a choice. On the topic of fate, this unexpected respite allowed me to ponder more about our existence–and purpose–here. If we were sent here to expel the evil that haunts this world, then won’t it be enough if we just killed off the demons? Even then, I’ve already developed attachments to this inexplicably wonderful world for which I constantly lack the words to describe. Isn’t this second chance at life already the reward itself? This line of thinking was shared by many I know, and why they’re reluctant about finishing our divine mandate here.
Various possibilities and considerations fill my head about our uncertain future in this world. The gods were just as cruel in their continued silence as they were in nonchalantly sending us to this realm. Our people, driven by all sorts of reasons for being here, we're starting to openly disagree about how things will proceed. Considering these things, my fear of what was to come was even stronger than before.
I looked up at the pink leaves that swayed ever so gently in the breeze. Even in the chaos and death that have rocked this world, there manage to be beautiful things that survive despite it all. I prayed; hopefully, even in this world so distant from the war-struck world that was our home, this sakura-like tree would continue to bloom and shelter tired men and women from the unyielding gaze of the sun.
