252: Chapter 252 In the Name of God, Forward

"Some of these we captured from the enemy, and others were aided by 'friendly nations' through secret channels." Houssa did not delve into the sources; everyone understood without saying it. "The key is, they now follow our orders."

Mahmoud stroked his graying beard, his eyes sharp. "Houssa, my child, twenty thousand men, so much steel... where do you intend to strike?"

Houssa's finger pressed heavily on three points on the map. "It's not 'where', Uncle Mahmoud. It's 'everywhere'."

"A three-pronged advance, codenamed 'Dawn of Unification'." Houssa's baton traced three thick red arrows on the map.

"The Northern Route, the main group." The arrow pointed straight north from the Al-Hada Mountains. "I will command it personally, with a force of twelve thousand men, all the tanks, and most of the artillery and anti-aircraft power. The objective: head north along the main road, crush all resistance, and take Sana'a! Within seventy-two hours, we will plant the flag of the Liberation Front on the Presidential Palace!"

Sana'a! This thousand-year-old city, the capital of Yemen, was also the core defense of the pro-Squid Nation puppet government and the Saudi Arabia-led coalition. Taking it meant decapitating the old regime.

"The Eastern Route, the Oil Field Group." The second arrow pointed northeast. "Commanded by Chief Ali, with a force of four thousand men, mainly mobile units, supported by some artillery and engineers. The objective: sweep through Marib, Al-Jawf, Hadramaut, and other major oil-producing areas. Remember, our order is to 'control', not destroy. Those oil wells, pipelines, and refineries are the economic lifeblood of the future New Yemen. If there is resistance, eliminate it resolutely; if there is sabotage, protect them with all your might."

Ali, the chief of the Al-Jabbar tribe, was known for being steady and good at management. He nodded forcefully. "Oil is black gold, but also a black curse. I will turn it into the blood of the new nation, rather than continuing to feed the poison of foreign enemies and warlords."

"The Western Route, the Coastal Group." The third arrow followed the Red Sea coastline south. "Commanded by Chief Hussein, with a force of four thousand men. The objective: consolidate the area around Saleh Port we already control and push south to completely control Hodeidah Port and the surrounding coastline! Hodeidah is the throat of the Red Sea; it must be in our own hands!"

Hussein, the chief of the Bani Saleh, was fierce and skilled at sieges. He grinned, revealing teeth yellowed by tobacco. "Hodeidah? I've been sick of those Saudi and Squid Nation ships in the port for a long time! Don't worry, Houssa, there will only be our fishing boats and cargo ships on the West Coast from now on!"

Mustafa, the youngest chief of the Bani Amir, said urgently, "Brother Houssa, what about me? My scimitar is already thirsty!"

Houssa patted his shoulder. "Mustafa, your mission is the most important. You will lead two thousand elites as the strategic reserve and rapid reaction force for the entire army. Wherever the fighting is most intense, or where a decapitation strike is needed to break a deadlock, your 'Desert Cheetahs' will pounce. At the same time, protect our logistics lines and command center."

Although Mustafa wanted to charge at the front, he understood the importance of this position and solemnly accepted the command. "The Cheetahs are ready to tear apart any prey at any time!"

"Everyone," Houssa's gaze slowly swept over everyone. The torches in the grotto cast his long shadow onto the rough rock walls like an ancient god of war. "For the past ten years, Yemen has experienced division, civil war, foreign intervention, and endless suffering. Tribes have slaughtered one another, warlords have carved up territories, and foreign powers have used this place as a wrestling ground and a testing field. Our children starve, our women are bullied, and our men die like stray dogs in unknown mountain gullies."

His voice was not loud, but it struck everyone's heart like a heavy hammer.

"All of this must end."

"We take up guns not to become new warlords, nor to trade for the scraps of foreign masters. We do it to build a unified, independent country belonging to all Yemenis! A country that doesn't have to kneel and beg Riyadh or Tel Aviv for peace! A country where our children can go to school safely and our elderly can enjoy their final years!"

Houssa drew his sidearm—an ancient-styled Yemeni scimitar, its blade reflecting the firelight.

"In the name of Allah, in the name of the blood and tears of countless fallen compatriots in Yemen, I, Houssa, hereby swear: this battle shall be won! Unification or death!"

"Victory!!" The four great chiefs drew their blades simultaneously, the edges clashing with a crisp ring.

"Victory!!!" The officers and soldiers inside and outside the grotto roared like a tidal wave, the sound nearly lifting the roof off the cave.

Two days later, at 4:30 AM.

From dozens of hidden valleys and grotto exits in the Al-Hada Mountains, the roar of engines sounded simultaneously. Headlights pierced the thickest darkness before dawn, and long convoys, like awakening steel pythons, began to crawl out of the mountains.

Tank tracks crushed gravel, their barrels pointing straight north. On Armed Pickup Trucks, machine gunners checked their ammunition belts with cold gazes. In trucks full of soldiers, some prayed in low voices, some silently wiped their rifles, and many more stared at the gradually whitening horizon, their eyes burning with a near-fanatical fire.

Houssa stood on the turret of a modified T-72 command tank and picked up the vehicle's radio handset. His voice was transmitted through an encrypted channel to every command unit at the company level and above across the three armies:

"Attention all units, this is Houssa."

"I order—"

His gaze turned toward the north, as if he had already pierced through the layers of mountains to see that ancient capital awakening in the morning mist.

"Operation 'Dawn of Unification', begin!"

"For Yemen, forward!"

The three steel torrents, like beasts finally breaking free from their chains, crashed into the broken old landscape of Yemen with a determination to crush everything and the wildness to rewrite history.

"Dawn of Unification" was thus ignited.

Northern Route, towards Sana'a.

The 9th Armored Brigade of the pro-Squid Nation Yemeni "legitimate government" Defense Forces had set up the first line of defense in the Taiz Corridor, eighty kilometers south of Sana'a. They possessed over twenty old T-55 tanks and M60 Pattons, and had constructed artillery positions relying on several key high points. The commander, Brigadier General Khalid, was full of confidence—the opposition was just some tribal militias and stragglers with mismatched equipment; what kind of decent offensive could they mount?

At six in the morning, the sun had just climbed over the ridge.

Brigadier General Khalid was drinking coffee in his forward command post when suddenly, a dull, continuous vibration came from the ground, like a distant earthquake.

"What's that sound?" He frowned.

A soldier from the lookout post scrambled in, his face pale. "Tanks! So many tanks! And... and self-propelled guns!"

Khalid rushed to the observation post and raised his binoculars. The next second, the coffee cup in his hand dropped to the ground with a 'clatter', splashing brown liquid all over him.