The Western Front

The newly instated Second Lieutenant Erik Thomas was still in awe.

The sight of the prided British behemoth had been described by many before him. To Erik, it showed him a monument of power within in the Empire of Britain. Dreadnoughts could simply not be described with only words. In the perspectives of the ground units of the camp, the dreadnought must have been at least the size of London itself.

In actuality, it was almost 600 meters long and packed to the brim with around 1,500 personnel, most of whom controlled and fired the airship's hundreds of heavy and light armaments. The airship had multiple cafeterias and lavatories and even a hangar for smaller aircraft. With the latest technology in the steam-powered industry, the airship also had a air of mystery.

No one truly understood how Dreadnoughts stayed in the air; the name of the original designer for its technology was never released publicly and was likely isolated in some covert facility. Even the engineers and maintenance of the hulking mass of British steel and steam knew essentially nothing, only understanding that the mysterious engines somehow produced enough electricity to power the numerous, extremely powerful turbines which held modern military airships up. Another oddity was that for its size, the engines produced surprisingly less steam than most would think, perhaps due to the new type of fuel it used.

In any case, only the elite were on the British behemoth, and Lieutenant Thomas would not be on it. Instead, he would be assigned to one of its assigned top-notch, newer escort Destroyers-

"Welcome to the HMS Bellerophon, Lieutenant Erik Thomas. I'm expecting good things from the genius of the new elite-class basic training."

"Thank you very much, commander."

Erik looked up at the silver-haired, brown-eyed, gentlemen that was now shaking his hand. According to the paperwork he had fill out earlier, this man had a long experience in the British Royal Navy. He seemed to have a good track record and reputation for being a excellent tactical thinker.

His designation: Royal Navy Commander Edumund Adams.

"Make sure to put your luggage in the right quarters and meet up with your new men by the end of the day. We'll be leaving for the Marne front before then."

After Belgium and their partner, Luxembourg, were invaded, the German military pushed on to the French border. The French, with most of their forces still moving north from the Maginot Line, couldn't reinforce the Belgian border in time and were in serious danger. The Germans were headed straight for Paris and were currently halted along the Marne River area, just northeast from Paris.

"Understood, commander. I'll meet my men before evening hits."

With a smile, Commander Adams left to go back to his work. Currently, the two men were in the Bellerophon airship command center. However, the ship was currently being stocked with coal and ammunition for the coming fight.

Erik met up with his men and his commanding sergeant shortly after his meeting with the commander. They were all good men, the men being new enlists like Erik himself felt a connection with him, mostly because the men and Erik had both gone though the new Hellish training for enlisted men. The sergeant also seemed to be an intelligent man, picked my Adams himself for his prowess in commanding troops.

The Destroyer headed out with the resupplied Dreadnought and other airships by the end of the evening. Unlike the other airships however, the Dreadnought never touched the ground after it was born; its turbines thunder the air 24/7 and its engines never stop producing steam.

Heading south, Erik also read up on other news of the war in his quarters. It seemed that the joint force of Austro-Hungarians and Germans had also attacked the unprepared Russia. Although having one of the largest forces in the world, the Russians literally didn't have enough weapons to go around. They were also less technologically advanced than most European powers, although better than the "sick man of Europe," the Ottoman Empire.

In any case, the Central Powers had to be stopped soon. And Erik would be heading straight into the Ally's aspirations of the Western Front.

The fleet of airships met up with ground and armor units of the British Expeditionary Force, or B.E.F., with the usual awing of the behemoth of Britain. The Allied French forces had also never seen such a powerful force as their specialty of warfare was of definite grounding. Even their behemoths were land-based, although powerful in their own right.

Erik looked down on the quaint, French town.

"What was it that the sergeant called this place again? It was spelled oddly too with a y or something."

He couldn't seem to recall the town's name, but he knew it was located in a crucial position in the current Western Front. The ground forces were currently digging prepared trench encampments all around the city. However, a trench wouldn't stop every German armored unit. For that, the powerful British Air Navy and French Armored Corps would stop any armor that the artillery missed.

"How are the Germans possibly going to get passed us? We've been reinforcing this area since the war began?"

Erik was prepared for the eventual conflict. His job was simple, anyway. He had to identify and direct his gunner crew to their targets. Specifically, they were suited for taking out any German Goliaths in range. They also drilled evacuation maneuvers, but what German ground force could take down even a Destroyer, much less with the behemoth next to them.

It was nearing the end of the month of September of 1914 now. Intelligence predicted that the German forces were preparing for an offensive in the beginning of October. The Allied General Staff also temporarily worried about the German Mage threat but quickly put it aside. After all, the British Dreadnought-class behemoth would be with the defense on the Western Front, and the French Landship-class behemoth would arrive by the middle of October.

In a direct quote from the General Staff's preparation of the German offensive, "How many mages could they even have?" followed by chuckling at the "dangerous mage force" that brought down a couple "weak, Belgium fortresses."

Meanwhile, 10,000 elite mages of the Mage Battalions were preparing for their incoming offensive.

Historians would look back on this period of time as the start of the German Empire's peak.

They would look back to see a battle of incomprehensible proportions.

They would remember this as the first time behemoths and mages showed off their power.

They would recall the utter destruction and carnage that would take place in this little, quaint town.

They would never forget

"THE FIRST BATTLE OF YPRES"