Entirely cut off from Earth, the United States finds itself in a scientific impossibility: the entire country, including the continental landmass and separated states and territories, was transported to another world. Unlike Earth, this new planet b...
Go read Manifest Fantasy, my new portal isekai story where the modern U.S. discovers a fantasy world. I say this as the author of Summoning America, my new work is ten times better. Also, please remember to favorite, rate, and review if you enjoy!
NOTE: Manifest Fantasy (rewritten) is only available through RoyalRoad.
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Outskirts of Orisun
Under the cover of artillery and the formidable wall of Hounds and Shafers, Gra Valkan soldiers inched toward the forest line. As they pressed forward, the foliage and snow seemed to grow thicker, as if the very earth sought to resist their invasion.
Kessler's eyes scanned the terrain meticulously. The shelling had already softened the Muans' frontline, but he knew they had been guided by the Americans in the art of guerilla warfare. Nothing came up on the madar yet, but there could still be more anti-personnel mines and ambushers lying in wait. His fingers tightened around the grip of his rifle, sweeping his aim back and forth along all the possible pieces of cover the enemy could use.
A sharp whistle sliced through the air. "Incoming!" shouted one of his soldiers. Almost instinctively, the men hit the ground as mortars exploded around them, spattering dirt and leaves in a chaotic dance. The air grew thick with the acrid smell of explosives and soil. A soldier near Kessler let out a choked scream, clutching at a shrapnel wound that oozed dark blood, stark against the muddy ground.
Another step to his right, and that would've been him, thought Kessler. His own forces promptly returned fire, the sound of artillery booming in response to the first strike. A series of distant explosions signaled a direct hit. "Advance! Watch the flanks!"
His order propelled the men into action. Through foliage and over tangled roots, the Gra Valkan soldiers navigated the forest. Suddenly, gunfire erupted from more concealed positions, a hail of bullets that seemed almost organic in its unpredictability. Kessler's men took cover behind trees, firing back. Kessler focused his aim on a shadowy figure darting between the trees and squeezed the trigger. The figure crumpled to the ground.
The figure's collapse was accompanied by a gurgling sound, a last exhalation that seemed to echo unnaturally loud in Kessler's ears. As he moved forward, his boots stepped over a Muan soldier who was missing half his face – a sight that caused him to grimace in nausea. Nearby, another Gra Valkan trooper administered first aid to a comrade, hastily wrapping a bandage around a thigh soaked in blood.
"Hilde, take your men and outflank them on the left!" Kessler commanded, bringing his attention back to the battle.
Sweat mingled with dirt on Kessler's forehead as he took aim again, dropping another Muan who had risked exposure. Bullets pounded the earth beside him and cracked against the rock that he was using as cover, each one carrying the potential of delivering him to the afterlife. Finally, a rapid spray of machine gun fire pierced the air from the left flank, followed by a succession of screams and disoriented return fire.
