Chapter TwentyFour: The enemy blinded by smoke and sand
For Reference:
Empire: Enemy
Republicans: The semi-good guys (Democracy)
“The art of war teaches us to rely not on the likelihood of the enemy's not coming, but on our own readiness to receive him; not on the chance of his not attacking, but rather on the fact that we have made our position unassailable.”
—Sun Tzu, an ancient Chinese general.
——
Chapter TwentyFour: The enemy blinded by smoke and sand.
——
“Well,” a mismatched being comprised of a multitude of body parts floated over a field where two enemies approached, he prepared for the potential onslaught as a delicious bag of buttered popcorn and lemonade floated adjacent to him, “this will certainly be interesting.”
——
The scouts were right.
There was no way Shrewd Preparation would’ve been able to avoid this confrontation, especially without loses. Even if he had the ability to imminently retreat the entirety of his army, the enemy would still be able to catch up—though, there would’ve been a much higher significant advantage to doing so, as there would ambiguously lower loses.
The General may have hoped, the approaching enemy force wouldn’t encounter his own division before rendezvousing with the other musket army. Those thoughts were in reality, just stretched dreams, simply too far away from grasp, no God decided to shine their luck on Major General Preparation.
‘Look on the positive side,’ he would always regard, ‘At least the skies are relatively clear, no rain; no disadvantage.’
Gazing on the bright side of life is a skill, remaining down in the dumps will achieve nothing anyway, only hider your results.
Preparation attempted to increase their chances, he communicated with the other division to try and consolidate their armies as soon as physically possible, but as mentioned earlier, this was all but impossible. Hours ago, he received several messages from this other musket land force; they’ve tried their best to hurry on to his position, but are still too far away to have any administered effect, by the time they make an appliance, the conflict will have been long over.
However, all of this is history; at this current moment in time, part of the Griffon Empire’s military was located around 500 metres away, estimates ranged between eight to sixteen thousand. Easily doubling the troop composition of his own.
Shrewd Preparation found it necessary to adminster every advantage, he may not have had the given time to set up a decent defence, but instead, was able to capture the high ground. His division was set up around ten metres above in accordance with the enemy, this will literally be an uphill battle for those who wish to go against him.
If they can hold this hill long enough…perhaps this battle may be drawn in his success.
Did you see the exact wording utilised during that last statement? If, and perhaps. Words with percentages, nothing was concrete enough to even sufficiently apply terms like will or transpire.
Even though Shrewd wasn’t comfortable utilising any of those definite words, the surely eager soldiers that comprised of his lines certainly did, none truly understood the repercussions of war and the given effect it withheld on the mindset. As soon as these realisations stuck those without experience, morel would drop instantaneously.
Something that clearly, no general wishes for their army, this is the sole reason why discipline is constantly drilled and maintained within a military.
Sadly, of which he palpably lacked.
Soldiers who incorporated the division had a relatively burdensome time maintaining any straight lines, instead, it was more akin to a jumbled mix of uneven mash potato. When hushed by superiors (mainly those who have participated in previous conflicts) to ‘move back into position’, many decided it was instead in their best interest to sit back into their previous position and continue their dim-witted conversation to the person three griffons over.
Some idiots fired off prematurely before the battle had even started, and point their weapon at their friend next to them and pretended to fire.
In Preparation’s highest opinion, instead of an actual military, the whole situation is eerily similar to a sitcom, in fact, Shrewd would have laughed if this was the case.
Too bad it’s not.
The only emotion coasting over his facade was disgust.
The Major General also recognised that maintaining a three-line battery would be nearly improbable— it was almost guaranteed those located in the rear had the possibility to fire on the griffons in front. The troops were simply too inexperienced to accomplish something even close to that derisive.
Instead, the General determined two lines would be sufficient, the griffons compromising each line stood parallel to one another. This ensured firing over one another’s shoulders wouldn’t compromise the lives of those potentially located within the first line.
The division spread across in two strips along the hill, covering the entirety of it. Each individual was tightly packed together, similar to a packet of straws.
He also saved 500 troops as reserves behind the bulk of his army, in this regard, they could act as replacements for those who die, or flank protection. All were equipped with their own smoothbore muskets and a random type of sword, they honestly just provided them with anything they had left.
The weapons, were in even worse of conditions… There was no standardisation, almost all withheld differentiating appearances, some required a variety amount of ammunition, while others, didn’t have the same barrel width as the griffon positioned next to them. This made the exchange, and maintenance of these weapons, along with the munitions, extremely difficult.
The opposing army, again, seemed to stretch on forever, an unending swarm of griffons. What was funny to the General, however, was that somehow, the enemy appeared even more disorganised than his army was, how ridiculous is that? Even though the distance (roughly 600 metres) made it difficult to perceive any details—even with the binoculars—it was almost a clear as day that they too, experienced equipment issues, many of the soldiers didn’t have any amour, while others held clubs… How primitive does a griffon have to be to go as low as using clubs of all things? They haven’t been used in warfare for thousands of years, one rational person would think it would be highly outdated by now, but apparently, not to these griffons. ‘A weapon is a weapon.’
What made Preparation furious, however, was that his own army, despite being overly outnumbered, took this whole experience with a sock, none seemed to take anything at face value, it’s as if all of them thought this was one big joke.
‘At least,’ Shrewd thought, ‘We don’t have to use any crossbows, we have enough ammunition as it is.’
The General continued to hope that the enemy would never truly meet his lines, hopefully, the continuous folly of bullets would be enough to keep them at the bottom at the hill, this was all but a reliable assumption.
Preparation’s manual thought process was interrupted by a griffon startling him to the side, “Sir,” the griffon started, “It seems their trying to incite the peace talks, a group of em’ are walking into the middle with the green flag,” he paused, “shall I send a party to go meet with them?”
Shrewd didn’t care for the enemy’s suggestion of peace, it was ridiculous at this point, they were too far in the war, usually, these stupid ‘conferences’ would only be utilised during the early steps of the war, but by this stage, it has been well and truly passed that point. He wasn’t going to waste his time listening to the enemy demanding peace for a stupid price, so, he thought, he’d may as well skip this one out.
“No,” Preparation said, “Let them hold their petty peace offerings to themselves.”
The messenger silently smiled to himself.
“Instead,” he General continued, “show them that we don’t give a shit,” he turned towards his second in command and gave a luxurious order, “order the first line to fire directly upwards, that should give them a decent fright.”
He nodded, seemingly eager, “First row! Make Ready!”
This sudden outburst of sound seems to put a lot of those located within the army into turmoil, a lot seemed confused, luckily, however, most of the battalion and company commanders were able to keep everything under control, and relay sects, some had to even quickly explain the meaning of this order.
In an inexperienced, and uniform matter, the griffons compromising of the first rank quickly placed their musket along their shoulder, mentally prepared themselves for the next incoming order.
“Present upwards!”
Of course, this sprinted quite a bit of confusion, not only has no griffon ever had the experience to fire directly upwards, but why not at the enemy? This was clearly the wrong direction.
Yet, people were still able to follow directions, many were just a little confused by the prospect.
“FIRE!”
With a simple click and snap griffon withholding muskets within the front row pulled the triggers of the weapons, burning matches were lowered into the gunpowder mass, and the few experienced griffons who held flintlocks followed their own presumptuous process.
Sparks of orange and yellow followed by the blinding white smoke exposed from the musket tubes, expelling upwards into the atmosphere. Then what followed was a defining BOOM that echoed throughout the countryside, shaking every being to the very core. The lingering smoulder floated just above the heads of every being present within the division, causing few to look upwards, and smell its horrible beauty.
Many griffons responsible for firing their own weapons accidentally dropped it in fright, the excoriating loud sound procured was not entirely expected by those with no experience, luckily, after a brief scolding by heir superiors, they quickly required their weapons, and held it by their side. Many started to reload their weapons.
While others…exploded entirely, spraying shrapnel in all directions, this caused injuries the griffon clasping it, and in some cases, to others as well in the predetermined facility.
Although the reactions from the General’s own army was quite amusing—and disappointing—the enemy’s small detachment of ‘peace offers’ rejoinder was even more entertaining. None within it had even assumed the Republicans would do something like this.
Not to mention show off such a great amount of force.
Most thought they’d never had the guts.
Apparently they do.
The small collection of griffons quickly scrambled up from their asses and ran back to their ranks with their tails between their legs, literally.
With that loud explosion came an even more pleasing scenario for Preparation, practically his whole army was deathly silent, perhaps they were scared of the destruction of the weapons they carry, or where inspired by the true beauty of them.
All that matter was that, even if it was a little, some organisation returned to his division, all of his troops were now focused on the enemy. Shrewd found this quite pleasurable.
What was even less enjoyable for the General, nevertheless, was the now charging enemy army straight at their position.
Perhaps the Empire thought they are initiating the attack.
This new development completely wiped off the slowly growing grin off Preparation’s face. He thought the enemy wouldn’t be that stupid.
This posed as a mainstream problem as the first row clearly didn’t have their weapons loaded, and the enemy was distinctly changing straight at their position.
I need not to point out the problems in this situation, I’m sure you could work this one out.
The ground rumbled and buckled under the sheer force of the stampeding army that raced across the field, each foot forward left a series of dry dirt clumps smouldered into the earth, once what was grass was turned over and ruined, the once lush green meadows all but stomped under the glorious underfoot of the enemy.
What was even more surfing to Preparation was that somehow, about a force of 1000 troops broke from the enemy formation and began the process angling off to travel around the hill, and flank them from behind, everything about the Empire just seemed so…disorganised. He had no idea how the Empire army’s superiors planned something like that.
The mental picture located within Major General Shrewd Preparation’s mindset displaced him from the real world, he honestly, for a brief moment forgot he was in charge of an entire army.
He immediately turned to his second in command, “I want the first and second rank to be firing continuously,” he frowned slightly, “under no circumstances are they to fire at the same time, I want a pertinacious folly of gold at these fuckers.”
Preparation then proceeded to rotate towards one of the three messengers adjacent to him, “Please alert the griffon in charge of the reserves of a change in plans, inform him of the flanking enemy army and proceed to intercept,” he remained silent for a few seconds, “also, tell him to keep his distance, try to get as many rounds of them as possible before engaging in melee combat.”
He flew off the relay the specific orders.
And to further amalgamate the unnatural sounds that reverted through the earth in accordance from the enemy, another, but much louder, and powerful sound was affixed to the solution.
BOOM! Boom! Bo~! boom! BA~BOOM! BOO~! ~om! Bo~! boom! BA~OOOM!
The back rank fired over the shoulders of their comrades with shake arms, their grips slightly loosened on their weapons, the recoil of the musket in some cases, even able to overcome this frictional grip force, and proceeded to fly backwards from the griffin’s claws.
Milky white smoke bellowed from the muzzles of the firearms, spitting the chemical product into the atmosphere, and resulting in slightly impaired vision in accordance with perceiving the enemy.
Although the Empire’s troops were clearly too far away to inflict much damage due to a lack of accuracy, the relatively hard-packed ground everyone stood upon, along with the height advantage, allowed the golden projectiles to bounce along the soil ,and proceed to haul themselves into the legs, and paws of the uninvited sprinting guests.
Blood followed the puncture of unsavoury holes located within these appendages, resulting in a small amount of blood to adhere to the legs below. Clearly resulting in those few affected to fall over in pain, and clutch the spitting blood before it drained from their soul.
This, however, was far and few in-between, the small quantity that was affected, were simply stepped over by others, the only obstacle they provided was equivalent to a small rock. All but ignored as a living being.
It was at this point a few seconds later that *most of the front rank was ready to unload their ammunition. And so, they did.
“FIRE!”
Yet again, fire and smoke thrusted from the tubes, forcing the small gold projects to yet again, sail through the atmosphere—down the hill—and bounce directly towards their targets, this resulted in a similar catastrophe in accordance to before. Only this time, was slightly more difficult to see through the white fog that obscured them.
However, true damage wouldn't initiate until the enemy entered close enough range, close enough, for a much larger percentage of golden projectiles to reach their targets, and thus, more devastating.
Somewhere on the other side of the battlefield, near the base of the hill around the Republican’s flank, rushed another variety of griffon soldiers, the goal provided by their commander was simple; ‘Assault from behind and induce confusion.’
The troops selected for the significant job were of veteran variety, and had a range of experience in all areas of combat, these were the Empire’s best chance for victory in this particular battle. The Generals were worried that numbers may not have been enough to inflict significant loses in comparison to the last conflict. The enemy simply had too many advantages; they were on a hill, had great weather, and even, advanced technology, way beyond anyone's peculiar understanding.
The General even complimented going so low as using flying, something that was clearly against traditions.
This 1000 selection of ‘veterans’ expected to encounter resistance on their journey, perhaps a few hundred or so ill-equipped swordsmen identical to the last couple of battles, mostly, the Republicans had little flank protection, if any. As a result, each member was expecting a quick, clean victory.
Too bad they didn’t expect 500 Republic soldiers with muskets pointing at them from the top of the hill.
In fact, they didn’t think the enemy even saw them splitting from the main battle formation.
But apparently, they did. Perhaps they were being too obvious and should’ve listened to their superiors when they suggested to ‘sneak’ away. People generally become quite arrogant when they maintain the belief of ‘know it alls’, or ‘indifferent superiority’, something that undoubtfully instigates as soldiers gain more field experience.
The elite troops compromising of the ranks gazed questionably at one another, they silently worded, ‘This wasn’t part of the plan.’
One critical detail worth mentioning was these specific troops were dragged from another division, a division that was positioned in the far East. A place where they saw relatively frequent combat with regular enemy movements. Barely any muskets were located in that area due to the distance from the Republic Capital, and as a result, griffons from that region rarely saw any musket action.
In fact, the very first time they even perceived the weapons in question being utilised was literally 30 seconds previously, when the first wave of explosions took hold.
The fact they didn’t seem to do any damage slightly confused some of those involved, but only appeared to have inspired more self-confidence then what was initially worth.
Sadly, it would be their ultimate demise, as the next decision that made it toll on the small gathering of 1000 soldiers was a stupid one.
To rush em’.
All screamed their propaganda expressions of ‘FOR THE EMPIRE’, and immediately began the process of sprinting up the hill towards their targets.
—Top of the hill POV—
The Battalion commander was..confused.
He didn’t understand if the griffon down there were just plain stupid, or mindlessly brave.
He may only have been recently promoted from a mere flintlock Private, but even he understood the decision of this gathering of 1000 soldiers made a stupid decision by attempting to rush them, while at the foundation of the hill.
He may not know a lot about tactics, but one particular move he enjoyed performing as a troop was the machine gun effect, where each individual fired one another—similar to a Mexican wave—which provided continuous fire.
The excruciating loud BANGS occurring every seven to nine seconds in the background, he was silently hoping by his group firing, they could hopefully fill in those ‘blank sound gaps’, and create a truly wondrous atmosphere.
“Present!”
What was surprising to him is that all griffons present actually obeyed his own command, they pointed their deadly weapons at the enemy approaching bellow.
“Alright!” he yelled, “before we start fir-“
Before he could even finish the sentence, approximately half of the soldier present fired their weapons, pouring a decent load of gold onto the enemy below.
“I DID I FUCKING SAY TO FIRE!!?”
Of course, this statement was followed by a dozen or so extra shots going off, something this leader was clearly not content about.
It was obvious these freshly trained troops would either not listen, or ambiguously understand his new directions, especially not in the heat of combat.
“You know what,” he sighed, “fuck it, FIRE AT WILL!”
The troops looked questionably at one another.
He clutched his paw into a fist, “It means to FIRE WHENEVER YOU WANT! HOLY SHIT!”
What immediately followed was an explosion of pure insistence, gold projectiles consistently shot through the air at regular intervals, peppering the atmosphere like popcorn. To those who faced this storm down the hill, it was a pure nightmare…
The emotional state of the elite soldiers performed a complete one-hundred and eighty turn, instead of withstanding an arrogant attitude, each now encompasses a terrified facade. All ran erratically up—what may as well have been— a mountain, seconds away from desertion.
It became more and more difficult to maintain total cohesion as the value of sock and awe began to take its toll. Despite the muskets barely doing any damage at all, bodies still occasionally dropped, and blood pooled at their fingertips. Truth be told, it was terrifying just witnessing your comrades dropping around you, from seeming nothing, it’s like the enemy wielded powers beyond what would be considered ‘normal’.
Sadly for the Republicans, this wouldn’t be quite enough to break their spirit. Enough the occasional griffon still ran away as far as physically possible from combat. However, the majority of the gathering still remained.
They continued onwards.
To victory!
By the time they actually reached the top, roughly two thirds of their members had vanished to the swarm of golden projectiles, their bodies lay battered and beaten on the swelling hill, slowly leaking their precious life fluid onto the ground below, stain the natural green grass into an ugly crimson.
Now they were clearly at a disadvantage, the enemy outnumbered them five to three, and they were located in a precarious position, there was no way they’d be able to get through the Republicans without significant loses.
On the other side of the coin, stood the small 500 troop gathering of Republicans, firing onto the enemy below. Although they had enacted large losses onto the enemy, it still wasn't enough to scatter or kill them all off.
This meant they’d have to engage in melee combat.
Something that clearly wasn’t trained at all to achieve.
“Everygriffon!” the leader shrieked, “Switch to melee!”
And so, every griffon located with the group of 500 men fumbled out their swords and pointed them in the direction of the still approaching enemy, now less then ten metres away
Each side clashed together, swiping, stabbing, blocking, shooting—why exactly are griffons still shooting? You know what, never mind— clubbing, hitting, poking, etc… Each side attempted to inflict as much damage onto the enemy as fast as physically possible.
Blood sprayed in all directions as this occurred, fluid pooled on the ground, bodies dropped, heads completely decapitated. Some of the Republican soldiers didn’t even have time to grab their swords, so instead, they relied on the brunt force from their muskets’ muzzles. Stabbing the enemy with the dense sharpness object.
Most notably, the Empire’s troops were gaining ground, and fast, they may not be very great against spitting projectiles, but something they’d always relied on was their sheer determination, and skill in claw to claw combat.
Eventually, numbers dwindled so slow on the Republic side they were forced to run away with their remaining 50 soldiers, tail in-between their legs, with the Empire still in hot pursuit, 200 strong.
It was obvious they’d be able to inflict a generous amount of damage onto the main army if something isn’t done about this soon. It was quite dreadful they had their own problems and weren’t exactly in any position to help.
“SECOND ROW! FIRE!!”
As the Empire got closer and closer to their position, the accuracy of the weapons involved become of higher variety, giving them the alternative to administer more damage than each previous volley.
Flesh and bones dropped like flies, skulls burst, chests conceived, legs shattered, and torsos tore open. Some even manage to trip over their own brethren, only to be impaled by their own weapons, while others failed to stand up due to the repetitive stomp on their backs administered by still sprinting armed forces.
This only became more common as they continued to run up the inclined ground, soldiers shot in front often fell onto those located behind, bringing multiple griffons down at once. Still, in comparison to the last battle, this was a total bloodbath, even if they somehow won this battle, the remaining army would practically be non-existent.
They may have begun with 11000 soldiers at the beginning of the front line assault, now, all that remained was just above 5000.
And they still had over fifty metres to go!
“FIRST ROW! FIRE!!!”
Eventually, after thousands of deaths, the bulk of the divisions finally reached the top, grabbing distance to those Republicans. The aggressor took the brunt of the potency, initially being pushed back, nevertheless, they began to immediately stab, like their literal life depended on it.
Which, it obviously did.
Major General Shrewd Preparation was not liking the way this battle was heading.
At all.
He had to send a small portion (600) of his already struggling army to deal with the enemy that just broke through at the rear, undoubtfully weakening the overall strength of the rest of his division.
He was erectly glad he was able to order the melee weapons to be taken out just in the nick of time before the full force of the Empire crashed into his lines.
There, however, was one particular thing he never took into account…
Some of his soldiers didn’t have bayonets or swords for that matter, troops instead had to rely on their trusty wooden stocks at the end of their musket. A good beating to the skull always does wonders for death-inducing scenarios. It’s just not in…the most efficient of manners. Instead of one swing, it normally takes several to have any ill lasting effects.
Due to this untimely inconvenience, along with the slight superior numbers of the enemy, it was obvious the Republicans were slowly being pushed back. It was only a matter of time before the enemy located in the rear stabs its way through the ill-prepared group Preparation sent over to intercept. Soon, his entire army would be surrounded.
There was no way he was going to pull out a miracle from his ass this time.
There were just too many variables.
If he’s lucky, he may be able to get a few hundred out. Or, let's be optimistic, even a thousand.
As General Shrewd was complimenting possible ways to reduce further loses, the corner of his vision spotted something.
The General swiftly swiped the binoculars from his waist and peered through its hazy lenses, with his purpose to eye the irregular shape that seemed to be approaching from behind another hill, roughly, half a kilometre away.
Now that he was able to properly focus on it, it looked like the crest of a flag.
But not just any flag.
The Republican Flag!
This single banner was followed by dozens more that appeared beyond the hill, all waved lasciviously in the air currents. All projected a sense of patriotism, beauty, and especially hope.
Hope, that’ll they’d make it out alive.
They just had to hold on long enough.
—POV Newly Approaching Division—
The griffon General of this particular army marched alongside his troops as they travelled up the hill, once at the top, a comprehensible battle could be discovered “Holy Shit,” the General stated, “I think we just got here in the nick of time.”
He turned to his subordinates, “have one line battery; half the army, travel down the hill and flank the enemy from behind,” he placed his claw to his chin in thought, “It’s likely they don’t know of our presence yet, with them,” he gestured to the battlefield, “so involved, I want the other half to say here and fire at them from behind, it’s a possibility that some of the Republican soldiers will be affected, but I’m willing to take that chance.”
His subordinates noted and continued on with their duties, they ran off to complete their individual orders.
Soon enough, a large line of soldiers marched down the hill towards the enemy while the other one organised into a single, centralised, straight-line and prepared to fire their high-quality matchlock and flintlock muskets.
“Make ready!”
All troops placed their weapons resting against their shoulder, all primed, loaded, and ready to contend with the next involuntary order.
“Present!”
The clatter of over 1000 firearms proceeded to lower down like a tsunami wave all pointed directly at their targets, slightly at an angle to their body mass, due to the enemy being located on the right.
“FIRE!”
In comparison to the volley occurring in the battle below, this one sounded much more ‘distinct’, and ‘powerful’. Fire and ash expelled from the musket tubes forcing out the precious golden projectiles at their targets, most failed to have any effect, but the few that did, caused griffons at the back of the attacking body—ones who thought they were the safest— to drop like flies.
The overwhelmingly strong and powerful blast of the explosion altered everyone on the battlefield below, consistent infighting appeared to have stopped for a few short seconds as each individual spied the beings located at the top of that hill with their smoking muskets.
Anyone within the Empire Force was shocked.
Everyone else associated with the Republic cheered so loud, their lungs may as well collapsed. They now fought with a brand new vigour, that perhaps, was never even there in the first place.
This, overall, provided a problem for the Griffon Empire’s division as, they, themselves, were being flanked and encircled, not the other way around, as they initially anticipated.
In consequence, the now high spirited Republics pushed with new formatted robust, leisurely, they gained one step after the other, slowly gaining ground they'd originally lost.
The roughly 1000 troops that split from the newly arrived division continued they're pacing towards their destination. The leader of this discrete gathering realised the sudden change in atmosphere and changed his plan accordingly. He maintained the idea that the enemy was simply one singular step from complete demoralisation and retreat.
His approaching army traversed in a perfectly straight line, without substantial desynchronisation. Their boots crushed any resistance the earth provided, flags poles were grasped by the soldiers who only progressed forward, the symbolic significance of this movement was more valuable than the weapons themselves.
“PRESENT!”
Soldiers—still marching forward—situated their firearms to point directly forwards, each facade only expressing true determination and discipline.
“FIRE!”
“BO~BAOM!”
Despite the decent recoil of the weapons, each individual still persisted with transversing forward without a single mister. Golden projectiles ripped through the heavens, accelerating through the air at a truly ridiculous velocity. Despite barely hitting any of the enemies, this seemed to have the same general effect in accordance with previously, only to a greater effect.
The now clearly retreating Empire sought to escape, their morale, completely broken, but in hot pursuit was the Republic militia, and the enclosing division from the back stimulated a difficult scenario.
One of two situations would take place, All griffons associated with the Empire will;
1) Surrender
or
2) Be murdered
Neither of those situations can ever be considered as ‘good’.
I’ll give a clue; it was a mix of both.
The ‘elite’ soldiers who flanked from behind suffered a similar fate, their morale was already relatively low before the reinforcements arrived, so it doesn’t exactly come as a surprise that they all immediately ran away after the first hearing.
At the end of the day, the metaphorical walls became too much to handle, all remaining enemy soldiers all surrendered like a tidal wave, very few ever got away.
And now…The Republicans march towards the Capital.
To end this bloody war
_____________________________________________________________________
Editor's Note:
IM BACK BITCHES
Don't judge me.
This chapter was supposed to come out a few weeks ago, but, I got lazy.
Also, 300 likes! 
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Editor's Note: IM BACK BITCHES
My god!
I wanted to write a jojos reference here, but I was too lazy.
glad ur back
FYI i Went over this Monday so 6 days between here and now
im eager to find out what the elements are in this story
Endsieg begin republican is victory and match to Capitol itself Also what Going happen to royal family of Griffin itself.
Also more please for proclamation of republik of Griffin to a true Sovereign nation.
Given the context of the story, that's debatable.
Given the stupid shown beforehand I half expected them to turn and shoot some poor schmuck named Will.
9909572
Given one of their officers murdered the Equestrian Captain of the Royal Guard and soon to have been member of the royal family, I think any talks will be tense, at best.
9910387
Empire and Republicans, neither are good guys or at least 100%, that's for sure, but one is worse than the other, that's what counts.
So in comparison to Empire and Equestria (both are dictatorships if you look at them how they are ruled here) Republicans are good guys
9909572
YEEEEEEEEEE-
If only this could be made into an animation or a comic. The story is awesome AF and funny as well. Can't wait for more
FOR MOTHER TEXAS'S
Love this story, very fun to read.
A warm welcome to you brother
9948894
What's hotter?
a dragon fire
or flamethrower's napalm-like substance that will stick to your body and is harder to dissipate with water, so it easily re-ignites after the flame has been extinguished. It also spreads less than mobile fluids, so that it permits a more manageable targeted burn?
Atomic knows but they don't 😈
9964616
Sunday
9965303
"Happy noises"
9965303
hey author, I feel the need to vent and give you some constructive criticism on your story. first off, when I started reading this story, I read it because I enjoyed the main character. I enjoyed what he did, how he acted and I liked all of the massive changes he is making to this world. but during this chapter and the last few chapters, we have been seeing less and less of the main protagonist. and sometimes I find myself skimming the story, not caring about these pointless battles that the griffons are fighting. I tried my best to read it as best as I can but I couldn't help but find it utterly mind-numbingly boring. I strongly suggest that you integrate the main character into these chapters more often. I don't remember seeing a single mention of her name in this chapter. and a "CTRL + F" search brings up no mention of "Atomic" anywhere in this chapter. I want to see more anarchy. I want to see more interactions with discord and I want the griffons to realize exactly who and what atomic is.
I will keep persevering through these chapters and I hope it gets better than this as I all but skipped half of this chapter when I realized how boring it was.
I'm not sure I like the slow shift of focus away from Atomic Discharge.
A toaster? ;)
Though seriously -- this is a big issue throughout the series.