June 30th, 1938 – Late Afternoon
The smoke had settled, and the battlefield was quiet now, save for the distant rumble of Valorian tanks moving through the ruined streets. The final stronghold of the Matalebe had fallen. Commander Kagiso lay on the ground, barely conscious, his body broken, blood seeping through the torn fabric of his uniform. He struggled to breathe, each inhale sharp and painful.
All around him, his city—the heart of the Matalebe resistance—was in ruins. The walls that once stood tall had crumbled, and the streets were littered with debris and the bodies of his fallen soldiers. The sound of battle had faded, replaced by the methodical march of Valorian boots advancing toward him.
Through the haze of pain and exhaustion, Kagiso gazed up. A group of Valorian soldiers approached, their rifles trained on him. Their faces were hard, their eyes cold. They had won, and they knew it. He could see it in their expressions—there was no mercy there, no hesitation.
Kagiso's hand twitched toward the hilt of his blade, the last weapon he had left, but his strength failed him. He was spent. The fight was over, and all that remained now was his pride, the only thing the Valorians hadn't yet taken.
As the soldiers neared, they paused, rifles ready, but one of them raised his hand, signaling for them to hold. It was General Raelthorn Graves.
General Raelthorn Graves stepped forward and scanned the scene before him—the crumbled city, the defeated commander lying in the dirt, the few Matalebe soldiers who had survived scattered or captured. The battle was over, but there was no joy in his expression, only a quiet finality.
Graves looked down at Commander Kagiso, his eyes hard yet filled with a hint of disappointment. "This could have been avoided," he said, his voice calm but tinged with reproach. "All of this... a waste of lives. It didn't have to end this way."
Kagiso coughed, spitting blood onto the ground. His body ached with every breath, but he still managed to lift his gaze, meeting Graves' eyes with a defiant glare. "We fought... for something," he wheezed. "We fought for freedom... for our people."
Graves sighed, shaking his head slightly. "And look where it's brought you. Your men are dead. Your city lies in ruins. All for a fight you could never win."
Kagiso gritted his teeth, fighting through the pain that racked his body. "Better to die free... than live as slaves under your boot."
Graves raised an eyebrow. "Is that what you think? That we came to enslave you?" He gestured to the devastation around them. "Look at this. Was this worth it? You could have surrendered, negotiated, saved your people from this destruction.
Instead, you chose pride over reason. And now, what's left? Not to mention, that you are raiding and massacring Zambesi's civilians."
"They started it first," Kagiso spat, blood mixing with the dust on the ground as he forced the words out. His breathing was labored, every word a struggle. "Zambesi... they oppressed us... took our land... our people."
Graves looked down at him, his expression hardening. "And your answer was to massacre their civilians? You justify slaughter because of old grievances? That's not freedom, Kagiso—that's vengeance. And look where it's led you."
"Still...it's better than to be controlled by Zambesi. You have no idea who you just supported. We are fighting for what is right, the Zambesi had robbed us of everything," Kagiso wheezed, struggling to hold onto the last shreds of defiance. His body trembled as he spoke, but his eyes remained locked on General Graves, burning with the same fire that had driven him to fight for so long.
Graves crossed his arms, his face an unmoved mask of discipline. "Well...we'll be the judge of that. For now, our directives from our leadership is to exterminate all the Matalebe soldiers. But you, Commander... perhaps there's a chance to spare your life. You fought hard.
You could be treated, interrogated, and perhaps used to rebuild whatever is left of your people. You don't need to die here."
As Graves waited, he glanced back once more at the bodies of the Matalebe soldiers being carefully placed together by his men.
"Line's ready, sir," Renfield said, holding out the receiver.
Graves took the receiver, his face hardening as he prepared to give his report. "This is General Graves. We have secured the final Matalebe stronghold. Resistance has been neutralized."
There was a brief silence on the other end before a voice responded. "Acknowledged, General. His Excellency will be pleased to hear the news."
***
Meanwhile, in Valoria
Julieanne entered Alexander's office.
Alexander was at his desk, reviewing documents, but looked up as she approached. His expression was sharp, as always, expecting news.
"General Graves has reported in," Julieanne began, standing a few paces from his desk. "The final Matalebe stronghold has fallen. The resistance is over."
Alexander leaned back in his chair, eyes narrowing slightly. "Does that mean we have won?"
Julieanne nodded. "Yes, Your Excellency. The Matalebe resistance has been completely crushed. Most of their leadership has been eliminated. Valoria now controls the entire region."
Alexander remained silent for a moment, processing the information. His fingers tapped lightly on the edge of his desk. The fall of the Matalebe had been inevitable, but hearing it confirmed was still significant.
"Good, that meant we have fulfilled our part in the alliance," Alexander said. "Has the government of Zambesi been informed of the news?"
"Yes, Your Excellency. A message was sent to the Zambesi government the moment the report came in. They are aware that the Matalebe resistance has been fully eradicated."
Alexander's eyes narrowed slightly, but he remained calm. "And their response?"
"They expressed their gratitude and relief. The threat posed by the Matalebe has been a burden on their control of the region for years. They are prepared to move forward in stabilizing the area under Valoria's guidance."
A faint smile tugged at the corner of Alexander's lips. "As expected. Zambesi relies on us now more than ever." He rose from his desk, walking slowly toward the large map of the continent hanging on the wall.
"With this, I'm sure Triesenberg will know about us."