A sudden battle erupted — thirty thousand men storming the Song army camp and the small town of Longcheng.
The Song garrison of over two thousand was overrun, with roughly half killed in action.
The town held out desperately for two hours before reinforcements arrived.
Those thirty thousand attackers were stunned to find themselves set upon by wave after wave of fresh soldiers, cut down and scattered in droves.
In the end, their casualties amounted to perhaps a third of their number, and most of the survivors were taken prisoner.
The commanding generals of all three regular divisions were captured.
Several days later.
The prison yard — the main exercise ground.
The warden stood at the podium before more than six thousand prisoners drawn up with chests out and chins raised, the majority descendants of English settlers, the rest local natives.
Nearby stood another two thousand or so onlookers wearing expressions of undisguised envy — these were the ones who had not dared to charge out and fight, and so naturally they had earned neither glory nor any reduction in their sentences.
The warden spoke from the platform in a full, carrying voice. "I hereby declare that each and every one of you brave souls is, from this moment forward, free!"
"Furthermore, several individuals distinguished themselves in this battle. Those whose names I call, please come forward."
Six men stepped out before the assembled crowd, their pride swelling visibly.
"Hans! You killed five enemy soldiers and captured eight during this engagement. I now present you with the Third-Class Combat Medal! You are also eligible to apply for immediate Longcheng residency!"
"Hans — one step forward!"
Hans strode proudly to the warden, who lifted the specially struck medal and hung it on his chest.
The warden clapped him on the shoulder. "Hans, well done!"
Longcheng had many medals, open to ordinary citizens as well, but those were common distinctions, and the benefits attached to them generally fell below the first-tier wage standard.
A Combat Medal was different. Even the lowest grade — the Third-Class — carried with it treatment equivalent to a first-tier wage.
Moreover, Combat Medals could only be earned by those who had actually fought, and on average only one soldier in several hundred received one.
It was very nearly the finest medal an ordinary soldier could hope to attain.
And of course, once a man held such a medal, he was ordinary no longer — he would always be the first considered when a promotion opportunity arose.
"Congratulations, Hans. You are not yet a citizen of Longcheng, but you have already made an immense contribution to it."
"If you are willing, you may join the Longcheng household register right now and become a citizen of Longcheng, just as I am."
"Warden, I am willing!"
"Excellent. Congratulations, Hans. One more thing — if you have no suitable work at present, you are welcome to come work here at the prison. Given your service record, I will place you directly in a supervisory position, at the third-tier wage standard."
"Thank you, Warden. I accept!"
Hans was the undisputed winner of this battle. The other five had also distinguished themselves, but none quite so brilliantly — they received Longcheng citizenship, the Medal for Outstanding Soldier, and an ordinary post.
—
Longcheng General Staff Headquarters.
"Confirmed? It was the Americans?"
"Confirmed. Numerous prisoners have given confessions."
"Then prepare for war."
"No one attacks Longcheng and walks away unscathed. No one."
—
Xinguang City. United Nations Headquarters.
Longcheng had convened a joint conference. Ambassadors from every nation filed in and settled beside their respective allies, trading assessments of the battlefield situation in low voices.
Ming Cheng pushed through the door, face cold, and took the chair at the head of the table. With a single wave of his hand, aides distributed packets of materials to each ambassador.
Only the American ambassador looked stricken. He rose to his feet. "Mr. Ming Cheng, surely there must be some misunderstanding?"
Ming Cheng ignored him and spoke as though the man had not opened his mouth.
"I have said before — we are not a nation-state, and we have no territorial quarrels with any of you."
"I have also said — Longcheng is a good neighbor. We do not go to war lightly, and we will never be the first to fire a shot."
"And yet there are always those who disregard our warnings and fancy themselves bold enough to provoke us."
"This time, one of our towns was attacked. More than a thousand people were killed or wounded. The reports and photographs in your hands are the evidence."
In truth, few townspeople had died — the thousand-odd casualties were Song soldiers and English prisoners. But who was counting? The fact was that Longcheng had been attacked and more than a thousand lives had been lost, and someone would pay for that.
"Since you dared to provoke Longcheng, then bear the cost of Longcheng's retaliation. The Wolf Army First Corps has already set out for the United States. We intend to bring the American president back to stand trial!"
Ming Cheng rose from his seat, leaning forward, his gaze sweeping the room. "Does anyone object?"
"Germany has no objection."
"Austria-Hungary has no objection."
The opposing powers naturally had nothing to protest — America was, after all, a member of the British Commonwealth and thus their enemy. If Longcheng could finish America off entirely, so much the better. And this was also a fine opportunity to take the measure of Longcheng's true strength.
"The British Empire has no objection."
Britain itself had grown weary of America's freeloading in recent years, and felt a lesson was not entirely unwarranted. Given Longcheng's capabilities, a punishing blow seemed reasonable enough — though outright occupation, surely, was an exaggeration. Besides, Longcheng had already made its position plain; it was better to let them have their satisfaction than to make enemies of them.
If Great Britain — America's own patron — had no objection, no one else was about to raise one either. And had anyone not heard that the army was already on the march? What good would objections do now?
"I — I object! This must be a misunderstanding! No — it's a conspiracy!"
"Remove the American ambassador."
"Since there are no further objections, let us all await the outcome."
One month. In barely a single month, Longcheng's First Corps landed on the west coast of the United States.