Siracusa border, Grimaldi Manor.
Mario Grimaldi, patriarch of the Grimaldi family and the highest commander of the Siracusa border defense zone, was currently shirtless, enjoying a morning massage from two maids.
His family held immense power in the area, and this commander position had been bought for him by his father at great expense.
To him, the army was his private property, and the soldiers were tools for amassing wealth.
As for the Leithanien threat, he had never taken it seriously.
Last night, he had even mocked the mud-legged Emperor Lacey with some cronies, asserting that the Leithanians would at most bluster on newspapers.
"Sir, it's time for breakfast."
The butler stood respectfully at the door.
Mario waved impatiently. "Got it."
He had just started to rise when a violent explosion erupted outside the manor, followed by dense gunfire and screams.
The entire manor seemed to shake, the crystal chandelier pendants clinking.
"What happened?!"
Mario jumped up from the bed in shock, his obese body trembling.
A guard came tumbling in, face full of terror and blood. "Sir! Bad news! Enemy attack! It's the Leithanians!"
"They... they've broken through!"
"What?"
Mario could hardly believe his ears. "How could they reach here? What about the border outposts? What were they doing?!"
The response was an even closer explosion.
The manor's main gate was blasted open by immense force, sending wood splinters and smoke everywhere.
Amid the swirling dust, several figures in black combat gear and face masks rushed in.
They moved swiftly, their weapons spitting fire, picking off resisting guards one by one.
Mario's guards were better equipped than average soldiers, but they were still just pampered thugs at heart.
Against these battle-hardened Imperial special forces operatives, their resistance was laughable.
In less than a minute, the hall's guards were cleared out.
Mario was scared out of his wits. He scrambled behind the bed, trembling as he pulled a gold-inlaid revolver from under the pillow.
This was his prized possession, but now it offered no sense of security.
Footsteps drew nearer.
A tall figure entered the bedroom.
It was a woman, holding two strangely shaped weapons.
Maces.
"Mario Grimaldi."
Jian's voice held no inflection. "By order of His Majesty the Emperor, you are under arrest."
"D-don't... don't come closer!"
Mario mustered his courage, raising the revolver at Jian.
"I warn you! Do you know who I am? I..."
Before he finished, everything blurred.
Jian's figure vanished from her spot, and the next instant, an irresistible force struck his gun hand.
Crack!
"Ah—!"
The revolver clattered to the floor, Mario's wrist twisted at an unnatural angle, the agony drawing a pig-like squeal.
He hadn't even seen how she did it.
One of Jian's maces now pressed against his throat, the cold touch silencing his screams, leaving only terrified gasps.
"Take him away."
Jian ordered the team behind her.
Two operatives dragged the commander—who had been lording over them moments ago—roughly away.
When Jian exited the manor, the fight was over.
Her squad had fully secured the estate; over thirty guards were dead or surrendered.
And on their side, zero casualties.
Under the morning sun, in the distant sky, Leithanien's red flag already flew atop Taranto Town's clock tower.
The lightning war's fruits swiftly reached Trullinczentyr.
Twin Towers, Throne Room.
"Your Majesty!"
Taylor's voice came from the communicator.
"The 1st and 2nd Armored Divisions linked up an hour ago, completing the encirclement of the Siracusa border."
"Preliminary count: over a thousand captives, countless weapons and equipment seized."
"Our casualties?" Lacey asked.
"Casualties?" Taylor chuckled lightly.
"Your Majesty, do a few scratches on the tanks count?"
"We have two soldiers with sprained ankles from improper operation, and a cook who cut his hand chopping vegetables."
"Beyond that, zero casualties."
The other Cabinet members in the office showed shocked expressions upon hearing the report.
Even the ever-optimistic Meklen hadn't expected such smooth progress.
Was Siracusa's border defense this feeble?
No casualties, and over a thousand captured?
Even capturing a thousand pigs wouldn't be this easy!
"Gertrude, the propaganda department can start," Lacey turned to the Intelligence Minister.
"Ready long ago, Your Majesty."
Gertrude handed over a newspaper proof—the latest Workers' Daily.
The front-page headline, in bold red font: "Empire's Iron Fist Punishes Provocateurs! Siracusa Border Crushed in Half an Hour!"
The article, artistically embellished, detailed Siracusa's "brutal provocation" and how the Imperial forces launched a "just counterstrike" after being "pushed to the limit."
Accompanying photos showed stunning Stuka dive bomber drops and the wreckage of destroyed Siracusa outposts.
"Excellent." Lacey nodded.
"Broadcast our victory to every corner of the Empire."
"Let the people know their army is invincible."
"Yes, Your Majesty."
...
News of the border breach swept Siracusa.
Initially, when Montelupo papers reported the Leithanien invasion, most citizens and family members scoffed, dismissing it as Leithanien propaganda bluff.
"Half an hour? Breaching our border? Has that mud-legged emperor gone mad?"
"Yeah, the Grimaldi family's guys are useless, but not that useless."
"It's fake. Wait and see—tomorrow's news will be Lord Mario counterattacking all the way to Trullinczentyr!"
But as time passed, more bad news poured from the frontlines.
Not through official channels, but via the families' tangled intelligence networks.
"Hey, heard? Taranto Town fell!"
"More than that! My cousin's cousin was on the front—he says their whole regiment surrendered!"
"Gods! Commander Mario was captured alive! Dragged straight from his bed in the manor!"
Once confirmed, panic gripped Siracusa's upper crust.
The family heads who had mocked Lacey at last night's banquets now paled.
They finally realized this wasn't some negotiable family feud solvable with money.
Panic spread rapidly, converging on the focal point—all eyes on Signora Sicilia's residence.
Letters begging emergency meetings flew there.
Signora Sicilia stood by the window, gazing at the sky, face ashen.
She knew better than anyone: Siracusa's most dangerous moment had arrived.
She picked up the bell on the table and rang it lightly.
"Summon all family patriarchs," she instructed the arriving attendant.
"Highest council in the council hall in one hour."
"Tell them: anyone who doesn't come can wait for Leithanien's iron beasts to roll up to their doorstep."
________________________________________
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