The next day at dawn, the central plains of Siracusa.
The united resistance army, hastily assembled by the major families, had constructed what they believed to be an impregnable defensive line here.
Trenches, barbed wire, positions—everything mimicked the textbook illustrations.
The overall commander of the coalition forces, a member of the Meredith family, observed the calm horizon through binoculars, his heart filled with ambition for glory.
Under his command were over fifty thousand soldiers, including no shortage of battle-hardened family elites—the extremizers.
He believed this was enough to make Leithanien's worker army pay a heavy price.
"Report, sir! Smoke detected ahead!"
A lookout screamed.
The commander raised his binoculars and saw a black line rapidly expanding on the distant horizon, accompanied by a faint rumbling like rolling thunder.
"Prepare for battle!"
He roared, a surge of exhilaration in his heart.
They were coming!
Glory delivered right to his door!
However, he soon wouldn't be laughing.
A torrent of hundreds of Tiger I tanks charged toward the defensive line at a terrifying speed.
Even more frightening, sharp whistling sounds approached from the sky as dozens of Stuka dive bombers dove down with the wail of death.
"Anti-air! Anti-air now!"
The commander's hoarse shouts were drowned in the deafening explosions.
Boom! Boom! Boom!
The earth wailed.
The hastily built positions and bunkers were effortlessly leveled.
Flames and thick smoke shot skyward, turning the entire position into a hellscape.
Siracusa soldiers who miraculously survived the bombing had barely crawled out of craters when Leithanien's tanks were upon them.
"Fire! Fire!"
A family officer commanded desperately.
Soldiers in the trenches raised crossbows, with a few pulling out firearms, firing futilely at the massive behemoths.
Bolts and bullets struck the Tiger I's sloped armor without leaving a scratch.
"Explosives! Use explosives!" the officer shouted in despair.
But their ammo depot had already been obliterated along with the logistics personnel in the first airstrike.
A Tiger I tank crushed the barbed wire, its coaxial machine gun roaring to life, sweeping the trench with fire and instantly turning a section of soldiers into a bloody mist.
Another tank halted, its turret slowly turning toward a stubborn firing point.
Boom!
With a thunderous roar, the sandbag and concrete bunker exploded into flying debris.
This was no longer war, but a massacre.
A dimensional strike by a proper army against gang thugs.
"Demons... they're demons!"
"Run! Run!"
Resistance collapsed in five minutes.
The so-called united resistance army disintegrated instantly, soldiers discarding weapons and fleeing rearward in tears, cursing their parents for not giving them more legs.
But how could their legs outrun tank treads and infantry carrier wheels?
The armored torrent showed no pause, crushing the routed enemy without even stopping to take prisoners.
The following infantry would handle that.
General Taylor's orders were clear: full speed ahead, target Montelupo!
The two spearheads advanced in pincer formation, effortlessly slicing through Siracusa's territory.
Towns along the way surrendered almost upon sighting the overwhelming steel legions.
Some city gates even opened before the tanks arrived, crowds waving Leithanien flags welcoming the liberators.
Among them were numerous agents dispatched by Gertrude and youths incited by the border crossers.
Family forces attempting to hold their manors and cities faced utter annihilation.
The Falcone family territory.
Old Falcone had mustered all his family's arms, preparing to resist from the sturdy manor.
But the response was bombs from the sky and tanks smashing through the gates.
Less than half an hour later, the battle ended.
When old Falcone was dragged from the ruins, he watched his proud manor engulfed in flames, red flags with sickles and hammers planted across his lands.
He finally understood that his daughter Lavinia's choice might have been right.
The era had truly changed.
One day. Merely one day.
The vanguard of Leithanien's 1st Armored Division had appeared on the hills outside Montelupo.
Tank barrels pointed remotely at the city.
The news reached the city, plunging Montelupo into final frenzy.
Signora Sicilia stood on the balcony of her official residence, viewing the faint steel silhouettes on the distant hills through binoculars.
Her hands trembled slightly.
She had anticipated defeat, but never so swift, so utter.
Behind her stood the remaining family heads, including Bernardo Bellone and Alberto Saluzzo.
"Madam... we... we surrender?" Alberto Saluzzo's throat was dry.
His former cunning seemed laughable before absolute power.
"Surrender?"
A young family heir drew his gun maniacally.
"I'd rather die than surrender to that mud-legged emperor!"
"We'll fight street battles! Drag them to death in Montelupo!"
Bernardo Bellone glanced coldly at him.
"Fight with what? Your golden goblet?"
"Our makeshift army is gone, the people... the people are waiting to open the gates for them."
At that moment, every radio in the city was seized by a resounding voice.
"People of Montelupo, compatriots of Siracusa, I am Lacey."
It was Emperor Lacey's voice!
"The corrupt family rule has reached its end."
"The vampires weighing on you will be swept into history's trash heap."
"I, in the name of the Emperor of the Third Holy Leithanien Empire, promise you!"
"The war will end today."
"Leithanien's army will not harm a single civilian, nor seize any private property."
"Lay down your weapons, step out of your homes."
"A new Siracusa, free of oppression and exploitation, equal for all, will be born today!"
"Now! Open the gates! Welcome your own dawn!"
Lacey's speech was the final straw.
Bang!
The young heir ranting about street battles was slapped down by his own father.
"You want our whole family buried with you, you fool!"
"Open the gates!"
"Open the gates now!"
Desperate family heads, to preserve their lives and wealth, issued their final command as rulers.
Before their orders, Montelupo's citizens had already acted spontaneously.
Led by the border crossers, thousands surged to the gates.
They shoved aside guards, cleared barricades, expressing primal yearning for the new.
Montelupo's gates opened amid cheers.
Under sunlight, Leithanien's 1st Armored Division tanks entered like a reviewing honor guard.
Crowds lined the streets, expressions complex.
Fear, curiosity, but mostly release and anticipation after long suppression.
Bold children even tried touching the cold tank armor.
A young tanker poked from the turret, bewildered by the surreal scene.
In the crowd, a girl gently placed a white flower on his tank barrel.
Taylor's command vehicle drove straight to the City-State Joint Council Hall.
Signora Sicilia, in black dress, stood calmly on the steps, as if long awaiting.
Taylor dismounted, not drawing his weapon, but saluting her with a standard Workers' Party military salute.
"Madam, by order of His Majesty the Emperor, I come to accept your surrender."
Signora Sicilia regarded the general, then the endless steel legions behind him.
She closed her eyes.
That afternoon, the red flag with sickle and hammer slowly rose atop Montelupo's council hall.
Siracusa, entire territory changed hands.
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