The battle was going well, but not entirely flawlessly. They had taken casualties in multiple areas with several spearheads delayed. At least until the encirclement happened and air support started to pound enemy strong points into dust.

Their artillery had responded back however, firing at the light tanks on the hill to little effect, and firing at the left gate to a much greater one. With two Panthers knocked out by the shells and needing to be moved by other vehicles to clear the road. Though by firing those guns, it told the aircraft exactly where they needed to do some gun and rocket runs. Which promptly shut them up as their crews were taken out with the guns.

But either way, they had then quickly secured the riverbank and surrounded the palace with all other threats contained. Leaving the assault on the palace, part two of the attack, to be initiated.

And of course, he, a Rear Admiral with little experience with a gun other than basic training and target shooting, was deciding to take part in a second wave of air inserts straight into the complex.

He had to be fucking insane at this point. This would doubtfully involve him doing anything heroically medal worthy, and instead would probably just involve staying with the Blacksuits and Harley’s squad. Well, if he valued his own life.

He’d brought in the scarred American veteran with the Sheffield’s marines, along with the squad of Blacksuits that accompanied him to the previous capital visit to act as a sort of bodyguard. Though one of those groups would probably move to reinforce one of the assaulting formations while one would stay behind as the actual bodyguards.

Though right now he needed to get out of his own head and into reality. The chatter over the radio was suggesting they were getting close to landing, and he needed to be ready to react to anything that might happen.

For the march to the throne room from the opposite side of the palace wouldn’t be easy. Given the number of floors and the distance between the wing with the balcony and the core of the palace. Which wasn’t that centrally located and was instead based to the south-east side of the complex.

And they were landing on that balcony because it wouldn’t exactly be smart to land in the courtyard while it was already an active battle zone. Which was then also covered by overwatch by several wings of the palace. So hence it wasn’t exactly a good place to land.

“One minute! Get up!” the pilot called over the radio, the shuttle starting to slow and turn.

“Right admiral, having second thoughts or are you ready to become a man?” Harley laughed, slapping the admiral over the back as they both got up, holding onto the hand loops.

“Hopefully I’m ready…”

The shuttle continued to rattle and slow, the sounds of the outside muted by the roar of the engines.

Then the ramp slowly opened, laying above battlements of the balcony, the door to it blasted open. Along with a chunk of the stone frame.

“Alright you beautiful sons of bitches, move your fucking asses!”

“Urrah!”

With that, it was all the encouragement for the marines to charge off of the Valkyrie. Leaping from the ramp they quickly got into position, Harley wrapping his arm around Edward, making him jump with them.

Edward would have preferred for there to be a little more warning before he found himself stumbling off of the ramp, and onto the balcony with equally as little decorum. But nothing was really going to be announced now.

Time to switch mindsets to his battle one, aka improvisation mode.

He pulled up his radio, switching to the long-ranged bandwidth, “Assault teams, this is Overseer, we have reinforcements, do you require them?”

A moment passed as the radio crackled and the shuttle started to pull away; his hair whipping around in the roaring wind created by the Valkyrie.

“Overseer, this is Delta team, we are facing stiff resistance in the north wing, requesting armoured assistance.”

The Valkyrie for the Blacksuits was quickly closing in and levelling with the balcony. The Blacksuits might not be able to fit through a few of the corridors in the older core… That and there were less of them than there were regular marines. So ultimately, they may be better off in the newer parts of the building like the north wing…

“Delta you’ll get your reinforcements, they’ll be there in a few minutes.”

“Roger Overseer.”

The loud crunches of heavy power armour meeting stone signalled the Blacksuits disembarking, their heavy feet clanking as they walked toward the admiral.

“Sergeant, you’ll supply support to Delta team on the north wing, get on their frequency and get to it. I’ll take Harley’s men with me.”

The lead Blacksuit simply nodded, waving for his troops to form up, “Yes sir.”

Harley chuckled behind him, “You’ve got quite a lot of confidence in us if you’ve giving them up. If so, thank you for that respect, sir! So, we’ll show those high and mighty knightly motherfuckers what real soldiers looks like!”

“Urrah!”

Edward couldn’t help but smile, hoisting his rifle up as he said, “Well then, let get on with it and fly our flag in their faces!”

The other smiled back as they then made their way into the breach, marching to the south-east of the palace.

However, immediately after they got in, Edward was reminded by the grandness of the palace and especially the newer wings of it. Even when it had been hit with a bomb and stone dust was caked over every surface it still looked magnificent.

As they walked further through the palace, that conclusion still stuck, even as the stone dust was replaced by blast marks and bullet holes. With paintings of all sorts cut up and singed by the marks of battle. Fine masonry chipped and windows broken. All the results of a fight still audible and echoing down the halls.

They continued to move forward however, reaching a set of grand staircases, and descending. Down and down five floors of stone and wood stairs covered in now dirtied carpet with rifle round casings littered all over.

It was a little sad to see such a beautiful place wreaked like this. But it was necessary, at least in the destruction’s justification. These people picked a fight with them, so their house wasn’t going to get away without a few scars in the eviction process. And hopefully these people had had the sense to put the most important artefacts in storage. Hopefully… Killing history wasn’t exactly something Edward was much of a fan of.

But going down those stairs wasn’t too slow, and they were rapidly approaching the front lines about halfway to the throne room. It was a testament to gap between the two forces, even with the kingdom gaining new weapons. They still lacked experience, proper officers, modern tactics, various bits of extra kit and training.

And hopefully that boded well for his survival when he got into the firing line. As Edward did doubt his ability to not pass out if he got shot in the leg. He was always a bit of a wimp even if he always got through whatever pain he had inflicted on him. Be it from someone else or something else, or via his own clumsiness.

The squad filled in along a wall, the sounds of screaming and gunfire extremely close now. Everyone in the squad was making sure to check and double check all of their gear and weapons, flicking off safeties and adjusting straps.

Edward checked his own rifle, taking the safety off and selecting bust fire. Then he quickly checked his coil gun pistol, turning it on and watching the little display pop up with the power levels and current fire mode with a little indicator saying everything was ready.

He exchanged nods with Harley, his own checks complete. “Alright then, time to get to shooting some shit.”

And with that, they charged forth, moving around the corner to see another long corridor, and at the end of it was the firefight they had heard.

Rounds were whizzing past the junction and the soldiers huddling by it, ripping through the air and continuing down the other corridor, impacting some wall far down there. Though surely it wouldn’t be that hard for some marines to clear out…

A bloodied sergeant waved to them as the group approached, the dark skinned and round-faced woman yelling over in a thick French accent, “’Ave you got any grenades? We’re all out!”

“Yeah, plenty! Do you need us to get those fucks out of your hair?”

“Yeh!”

Harley smiled, “Price! Give ‘em a taste of HE!”

“Yes sir!”

A blond-haired guy ran ahead of the rest of the squad, sliding to a kneel and loading their under-barrel grenade launcher with a round, flicking their rifle up and firing. The grenade then bouncing off of a wall and around the corner.

It then audibly rolled a little as panic yelled echoed down the corridor before they were all cut short by the explosion. The rattle of windows and the wisps of smoke drifting up the corridor being the signs that it was safe to peek out.

The other marines did so, mumbling to each other in French as they poked their rifles around. A few bursts of fire were the sent down the corridor and then a signal was given to say it was clear.

Edward raised his rifle, staying a little behind the rest of the two squads but not at the very back of the group as they rounded the corner, slowly walking down it. Everyone watching out for any hidden survivors that may jump out.

“I hear armoured dudes front!”

Edward’s eyes whipped around, looking between the soldiers clumped up front at the clattering sounds of plate armour came closer and closer.

The French marine sergeant started to yell at their troops that Edward could not understand. But his eyes did widen when they started to form up into a two deep line formation and they all flicked their rifles to full auto.

And sure enough, around the corner came a hoard of knights in full plate armour covered in seals and pieces of holy scripture. All of them chanting and holding weapons of all sorts that made Edward’s mind scream at him to set the fuck back.

“Au feu!”

The sound of automatic gun fire split the air, everywhere between them and the knights filling with lead. The wall of fire punching through the knights with absolute ease, cutting them all down like wheat harvested by a scythe.

With only a few seconds of this fire the hoard had been reduced to corpses and a few dying men spending their last breaths screaming and trying to drag their hole filled bodies away. All of them eventually bleeding out on the floor, leaving a sea of blood as their bodies emptied of the vital liquid. Their life going with it.

“Avance!”

“You heard her! Move up!”

And they just continued on. Gingerly stepping over the bodies even as their boots became covered in blood. Edward tried not to look down, keeping his eyes locked to his front.

It wasn’t entirely effective. But he wasn’t going to look at any more of it than he had to, the little glimpses he had gotten already made him sick to his stomach. There was no way he was going to do that in front of the troops especially. It’d be all they’d talk about.

So, he kept looking forwards with his rifle up as they kept moving further and further forwards down the corridors. With everything far too quiet for everyone’s liking and nothing else popped up and the only sounds of combat were far away.

The decorations and architecture were clearly changing to the sort found in the older parts of the palace, so where the hell were the guards!? They’d surely be protecting the king. Where else could they be…

Though it did seem that they hadn’t left him completely defenceless. As one poor sod found the hard way as round punctured into their arm as they pushed around the corner. The unlucky man screaming as they stumbled backwards, a comrade rushing to their aid as everyone’s attitudes changed.

Harley grunted, waving over to his squad, “Price, get em!”

Yet again Price charged forth, launcher loaded as he peeked from around the corner before whipping back as another round shot past the group.

“Its too long for a bouncing shot from this angle!”

“Well then, I’ll get you some cover if you can’t figure out what to do then!”

The scared man then ripped open a pouch on their chest, pulling a flash bang out, pulling the pin, then bouncing it into the corridor with the pitching skill of a cricketer or baseball player.

It exploded, white light flashing as Price then peeked around the corner, launching the grenade straight down the hall with another explosion following. The rest of the squad taking the opportunity to peek as well with almost symbiotic timing. A few quick rounds finishing the survivors in a moment.

“Clear!”

“Alright, move it people!”

The group formed back up, hurrying down the corridor to the large doors at the end of it. The marble of the frame now stained with blood and ash.

“Is it locked?”

A shake of heads,

“Alright, everyone form up and get another flash-bang out! Be ready to breach on my order!”

“Yes sir!”

Edward couldn’t help but marvel at the efficiency at it all and the experience that Harley exhibited in his command. He’d have to get a transfer for him if he got a new flagship or put him in charge of his own security detail as the man was good at his job in a superlative way.

“Breach!”

The grenade clattered in through the cracked open door, everyone then charging in with rifles up just after it exploded with perfect timing.

Fire spurted from their guns as they fired at targets all around, Edward taking a deep breath before charging in with them. With his rifle raised he got in, spotting a field of carnage with no one left to shoot. All the defenders in the room hadn’t been given rifles and were easy targets once blinded, leaving the cowering king and his priest the only ones left alive in the room.

Edward lowered his rifle, slinging it and pulling out his pistol before approaching the huddled two.

At that, the king started to move a hand towards a sword in its sheath by his belt, Edward’s eyes quickly spotting it.

“Don’t you get anywhere closer to that weapon, or we’ll have to shoot you.”

The king’s hand raised, moving away from the sword as the priest did the same.

Edward’s expression did not change, his face like iron, “You’re all now prisoners of the IFC to await trails for your crimes against humanity. You will get a fair trial but that will have to wait for the end of the battle. Now someone cuff them! And where’s that bloody flag?”

“Yes sir!” came the answer, two of the French marines moving up with zip ties as Harley rummaged through his bag. Eventually he came out with the flag of the IFC. A deep blue flag with seven interconnected white rings.

“I always wanted to do something like this,” Harley chuckled, moving up to the plinth where the throne stood, holding it up for everyone to see.

A collective “Urrah!” followed which even Edward joined in with.

The war, if the plan to get the majority of the vassals to surrender would work, would be over soon.

And with that thought in his head, Edward’s heart started to fill with joy and pride, a smile once again cracking across his face. It was a good moment. And he couldn’t help but get a little giddy from the little performance he made.