THE SAME DAY, SOMEWHERE AT IMPERIAL ARMY HEADQUARTERS IN NORDEN
-x-X-x-
The chill of Norden naturally urges people to prepare for it obsessively. That said, it's
a pleasant fixation. A fire blazing in the hearth, its warmth filling the room, is an
indispensable feature of a quiet Norden winter.
"Welcome to Norden. Or I suppose I should say, 'Welcome back'? We're happy to have
you, Major von Degurechaff."
"Yes, returning to this battlefield does bring back memories. I'm eager to serve under
you, General von Rudersdorf."
There is something off about the General Staff officers and their extremely serious
expressions while they are having that utterly out-of-place exchange. Of course, Major
General von Rudersdorf and Major von Degurechaff have simply both judged that it is
easier to speak pragmatically with each other, so they hit it off relatively quickly.
"…Now then, let me tell you what a wonderful job I think you're doing right out of the
gate. I heard from Colonel von Lergen—it's quite the achievement."
"I'm honored, sir."
"Ah, but I expected nothing less. I knew having Zettour send you here was the right
move."
The cooperative relationship between these two geniuses within the General Staff
really is something. For better or worse, the only one who can get their way with the
deputy director of the Service Corps is his cohort or his boss. Since Zettour had to be
persuaded for her to be dispatched, she inwardly braces herself to be worked to the
bone by the deputy director of Operations.
"We'd like you to cut loose up here, too."
"I'll do all I can, though it may not be much."
"That's fine. Then let's get down to brass tacks."
"Yes, sir."
"Does your unit have experience conducting attack missions on enemy positions?"
"A handful of our core members have some experience from the Rhine front, but that's
it. In Dacia, we mainly did air raids, and even then it wasn't many."
"So it's more or less as I feared… But you at least understand how it's done in theory,
right?"
"Yes, sir. I learned with 205th Company on the Rhine front."
"All right, then I'll be frank. I want you to think of this as an airborne operation. Major,
we're probably going to have your unit seize the enemy defense line."
"You mean push them back? Whatever your orders, I'd like to get started right away."
"That's very thoughtful of you, but I imagine you'll need to make careful preparations.
I'd like you to focus on training for a while."
"Thank you! But are you sure that's all right?"
"It's fine—I'll work you hard when the time comes."
"Yes, sir. I promise you we'll be ready in every possible way."
-x-X-x-
THE PRESENT: ON PAPER
-x-X-x-
Londinium Times special correspondent Jeffrey told us about a theory he had
regarding the Eleventh Goddess.
In general, he thought the notion of its existence had some truth to it. Although it wasn't a very pleasant prospect, he considered the possibility to be reasonably high.
Today I wanted to see whether it was nothing more than a battlefield rumor or if it
had any basis in reality.
All the people we asked related to the Eleventh Goddess refused to comment on its
existence.
Normally, most people would deny or confirm, but no one wanted to talk about it at
all.
The refusals were so firm.
"Is it something the army is ashamed of?"
When we asked that question, a retired general who had been silent up until then
pounded the table almost hard enough to break it.
He leaped to his feet, and the grimace on his face made him look just like an ogre.
We shrank back in spite of ourselves; the retired general's rage was that terrible.
"There's a world that people like you can't understand! You weren't on that
battlefield!" he barked, kicking his chair away as if even talking to us was offensive.
Strangely enough, the other retired officers present also all stood up at the same time.
It was as if they were all communicating their unanimous agreement by way of their
silence. I confess things got pretty awkward then.
So this much is true.
But if we rely solely on what we've seen in person to talk about the truth, we won't
learn anything new. That's why I'd like to discuss the data and theory Jeffrey brought
us.
Jeffrey says the first time the Eleventh Goddess was spotted by the Commonwealth
wasn't in the west but in the north.
How?
Up until the big counterattack operation in the north at the end of the war, the
Commonwealth had concentrated their efforts on the western lines.
So how did the Commonwealth see the Eleventh Goddess up north when she should
have been in the west?
The answer, according to Jeffrey, is simple.
Before the Commonwealth officially joined the war, they sent an expeditionary unit to
the Regadonia Entente Alliance in utmost secret.
Yes, the Commonwealth assisted in combat before formally declaring war.
People have always whispered rumors, but apparently it's true. We have the
documentation to prove it. The national archives were a formidable opponent, but
they've already agreed to release the materials.
What was going on back then? We discovered this truth while in pursuit of an answer
to that question. Apparently, the Commonwealth had decided to intervene while the
Republic and Empire were busy clashing. The national defense committee
recommended gathering intelligence in actual combat in order to better understand a
future enemy.
In response, a "volunteer army" consisting mainly of a small number of mage units
was dispatched to Regadonia. In order to dodge accusations of violating international
law, the force consisted mostly of retired officers and soldiers who "independently"
volunteered and had gathered "on their own authority." The archives still refuse to
release the details. Right now, what we know from speaking with those involved is
that a regiment-sized group of mages was deployed. So maybe this had something to
do with it.
At the time, the Commonwealth was a neutral country. Even if the growing mage
shortage had yet to become a major consideration the way it did during the middle of
the war, the fact that so many went was surprising. This "volunteer army" was big by
any measure.
Naturally, we can see there were political quarrels. And apparently, the volunteers
were brutally annihilated. That was the worst part. After suffering the loss of precious
combat mages, they had to bury the clandestine intervention.
This is where we start to see references to the Eleventh Goddess. In his report, the
commander of the volunteer army says that's what got them. So we started to wonder:
Is the Eleventh Goddess a person? Or is it some specialized term?
Jeffrey's take on this point is simple.
"Supply hell" is exactly eleven characters when you include the space. In other words,
it was a euphemistic way to complain about the leadership's management in a
situation where a more open comment wouldn't have been tolerated. That would
definitely be something for the army to be ashamed of, right? Then again, "mass
mutiny" would also work. In any case, they must want to hide some sort of
organizational failure.
In short, Jeffrey posits that the Eleventh Goddess was not a person but a phenomenon.
Honestly, I simply can't agree. I was embedded on the western front, and from what I
remember, supplies were coming in as well as could be expected. And discipline
seemed fine from what I could see. Of course, I'm only one reporter, but I've been at it
a long time, so I should be able to tell.
More than anything, there was an abnormal number of casualties on the western
front. No, you could say that abnormal became the norm; it was like another
dimension out there. It wouldn't be surprising to find out a devil had been on the
rampage. And so our debate has gotten nowhere.
Well, the Londinium Times sort of serves as a watchdog keeping an eye on the
government. WTN specializes in offering news from abroad, so maybe we just have
different viewpoints.
Anyhow, I'd like us to keep investigating this. Lastly, I'd also like to say how blessed I
am to have such an understanding wife.
Well then, until next week.
*Andrew, WTN special correspondent
-x-X-x-
NOVEMBER 16, UNIFIED YEAR 1924, NORTHERN ARMY GROUP COMMAND,
STAFF MEETING ROOM
-x-X-x-
I don't know what era he was from, but some great man once warned us: "Victory is
like a drug."
Military triumph brings radiant glory and a most splendid intoxication to a nation. For
that reason, when people are drunk on victory, they think only of getting more. Soon,
no one is allowed to ask what the victory is for. Military romanticism has a violent
effect on countries.
That's why no one likes pragmatic soldiers. They're lucky to get off with being called
cowards.
"Thus, I think avoiding losses and keeping casualties to a minimum is desirable."
Drawn on the map is the Imperial Army pulling back. Mounting a predictable pursuit
is, naturally, the enemy army. It's a proposal to retreat so as not to put too great a strain
on the supply lines. If a normal officer were to suggest this plan, they would have to
be prepared for an immediate string of names worse than coward.
And the meeting room did freeze for a moment. With no idea when Colonel General
von Wragell might explode in his seat at the head of the table, Lieutenant General and
Chief of Staff von Schreise was inwardly annoyed, but at the same time, the
atmosphere was so tense he wanted to bury his head in his hands.
"By moving the lines back, I believe we can lessen the inevitable burden of distance on
logistics as well as simplify plans for a spring offensive."
But Tanya, who had purposely ignored the atmosphere and stated her thoughts on the
matter, quietly takes her seat. Acting like she has finished her report, her impassive
Noh-mask face is unreadable while she completely ignores the staffers' stares.
Actually, no matter how stormy it gets in the Northern Army Group meeting room, I
simply can't seriously see it as something that has anything to do with Tanya. Her
battalion has carried out its mission and has already returned to its garrison for the
moment. She's only present because Major General von Rudersdorf ordered her to
attend since she had time.
When it comes down to it, Tanya is a part of the Central Army, serving directly under
the General Staff, so she doesn't have a place in the Northern Army Group chain of
command. And that's precisely why she proposed, as a bit of advice, that they use this
time to shorten and consolidate their lines.
Really, I didn't mean to interfere so much at first. Rudersdorf was there from the
Operations Division of the General Staff—I figured being pushy was his job.
A major general in the General Staff serving as section chief has far more influence
than the rank indicates, so I thought I would politely listen to him speak. But then,
ahead of the meeting, he declared he would like to hear the opinions of officers from
the field, and several brigade commanders were selected to comment. Perhaps their
reports didn't satisfy him? Even though it would be easier to count up to her rank from
the bottom, the ball had been passed to her.
In that case, I felt I should probably show these hemming and hawing numbskulls,
who can't offer a straight remark, how it's done. The only ones who don't give their
opinions at meetings are the inept or idiots too worried about what everyone else
thinks. That said, there are also times where someone has to stand up and bear the
brunt of the silent majority's pent-up frustration. The fact that someone has to be
forced into this role, reminiscent of the ship that draws fire away from the rest of the
fleet, is a problem that will no doubt plague all organizations forever.
And if the boss of the group dispatched from Central is going to keep his mouth shut,
then the role of the scapegoat falls to me, another person who hails from Central, with
field achievements to boot. It's aggravating but true.
First of all, I repulsed a regiment-sized assault. That's a solid feat no one can deny. In
addition, my considerable accomplishments in Dacia as a mobile strike specialist
ought to lend some weight to my comment.
My battalion did its best. They're a real bunch of war nuts, but they gave their all. We
turned back a regiment and shot down their bombers. We can be proud of the serious
blow we dealt to the enemy.
"Hmm, Major von Degurechaff's proposal is quite novel… What is the Northern Army
Group's take on the logistics involved?"
"Quite novel?" He has thicker skin than I thought But I suppose Central can't come out and say that the supply lines are dangerously
overextended. Our now-dismissed predecessors, dreaming of smashing the
encirclement, mobilized the Great Army with gear appropriate for fighting in the
north, only for them to hastily deploy to the Rhine front. It's not just General von
Rudersdorf—no one could ask whose fault the messy supply lines were, because the
blame lay with their predecessors' blunders.
On the other hand, if it was simply an organizational failure, the problem shouldn't
require Central to handle it so delicately. The issue at hand is that the Empire is
panicking, and the enemy is taking advantage of that. Winter is already on its way, and
partially because the Imperial Army's Northern Army Group is lacking supplies it
needs to weather Norden's cold, the Empire's movements are becoming severely
limited. The Entente Alliance, of course, is on its home turf, so its commandos are
dominating and constantly conducting guerrilla attacks on the Empire's supply bases.
Security at small depots is already in shambles and growing difficult to maintain. But
the soldiers still need bread if they are going to march on the enemy logistics base.
If it were a tactical disadvantage we needed to fix, commanders would still have room
to work. Or if simply fighting hard could solve things. But the supplies in a burneddown depot can't be recovered. The conclusion I reached is simple. It isn't clear if the
Imperial Army has enough supplies to survive the winter. The supplies exist, but they
need to be carefully managed.
And that time could be used to reorganize the lines. Aha, so that's why he suggested I
make careful preparations before the airborne assault on the enemy. If you want to
buy time with harassing attacks,8 airborne operations are an effective option.
But Tanya is (I am) not very well-informed when it comes to the average human
psyche. Of course, she would come at this from the perspective of her own unit's
airborne assault in the spring offensive.
But that's why if I'm here, I have to sound the alarm about the danger regarding our
winter supply preparations—and declare that aiming for a swift end to the war is too
great a risk.
General Jekof von Schreise just barely keeps himself from losing his temper as he
thoroughly reviews the plan as chief of staff for the Northern Army Group. At the same
time, the part of him that remains cool and rational screams in his mind about how
bad this is.
Really, this proposal is only that and nothing more. In other words, it's simply one
possible option. General von Schreise is a veteran who has worked his way up in the
Imperial Army's meritocracy. He can see that despite having its main force, the Great
Army, pulled out and the local numerical inferiority of its mages, the Empire still has
a clear advantage over the Entente Alliance.
Certainly, he understands that the burning of bases supplying the front lines, including
small depots, was a thorn in his side. He's relieved that after they shed some enemy
mage blood, the raids should stop. But at the same time, he's equally worried about
the supply issues on the front lines. No, it's not as if he isn't already aware of the
problems.
But to have it smugly pointed out by Major von Degurechaff, dispatched from Central,
is another issue.
"Major von Degurechaff, I'd like to confirm something." After a moment, a Logistics
officer speaks. "Are you envisioning us digging in, then waiting out winter?"
"Yes," she replies calmly. Her tone is rather matter-of-fact. "At present, we can't
maintain the supply lines. We're under no obligation to please the enemy by wasting
mate riel and men in a futile offensive."
Schreise looked at the Logistics and Operations staffers. As he expected, Logistics was
resisting the urge to shout her down with obvious displeasure and expressions that
seemed to say they weren't buying her plan.
After all, even the lowliest private knew there weren't enough supplies—you didn't
even need security clearance to realize that.
It wasn't as if this Logistics staff was extraordinarily skilled, but they were capable of
approaching supplies with common sense. They understood quite well that they
didn't have enough mate riel. They also knew that even if the chaos was due to an error
on Central's part, the ones who made the error in the first place had already been
dismissed. Their continued dissatisfaction had to mean that Degurechaff's
appearance was affecting their judgment. Nobody wanted to be the kind of adult who
whaled on a little kid. If Rudersdorf knew that and was having Tanya speak up for that
reason, he was quite the crafty fellow.
But though the Operations staff were restraining themselves, their masks were beginning to crack, showing the limits of their tolerance. This would surprise no one,
but their purpose was different from that of Logistics. Every day the other army
groups would pressure them, asking how much longer they were going to drag out the
conflict. After all, Dacia, with about the same number of troops committed to the
theater, had fallen in six weeks. The criticism of the Northern Army Group "still
fighting up there" was growing sharper with every passing day.
"Major von Degurechaff, if we did that, we'd be losing time."
"Huh?"
There were all manner of expressions around the table, but on the whole, everyone
was waiting to see what would happen.
The Operations staff especially were looking to Schreise so as to understand their
boss's intention.
Schreise nodded and pressed his point. "It'll be a new year soon. We don't want a long
war. And we don't want to exhaust supplies, nor can we continue tying up troops here."
Operations continued, imparting internal details of the northern forces' struggles.
Commander Ragheno of the Northern Army Group expressed his agreement with a
nod, and Schreise felt some of the tension go out of his shoulders. Apparently, the
desire to put a swift end to the war wasn't only the wish of Operations but a view
shared by high command as well. That must have meant that the northern forces
agreed on time being the primary concern, at least. And that's why he glared at
Rudersdorf, shameless and cheerfully listening to their debate with a smile plastered
on his face; he wanted to figure out what the man was really after.
"The enemy faces the same conditions." Operations had raised their objections in a
near panic, but her reply was cool and calm. Degurechaff, completely unfazed by all
the eyes on her, gave a deadpan counterargument.
"Rather than wasting our resources in enemy territory, we should wait for a chance to
settle it in one decisive strike."
"Logistics can't take it." Her suggestion was made with their circumstances in mind.
Of course, that's why she proposed shrinking their lines. But she hadn't arrived at this
solution by groping around in the dark; her attitude said that she fully believed it was
their only option. She couldn't so much as lend an ear to the suggestions of the Operations officers who wanted to escape this phase of the war by bringing it to a
swift end. No, the expression on her delicate face said she thought their plan was
stupid.
"The minute you sally forth, you'll already have gone as far as you can go."
Pressing lightly on his right temple, Schreise glared at the Logistics staff.
They had guaranteed the supplies would cover a short offensive. The problem was
that the guarantee was for availability, and that was it. Nobody had presented him
with a foolproof plan for actually delivering those supplies to the units that would be
advancing at the edge of the front lines.
"We can cover a short offensive without issue. We've secured almost all the provisions
we need for the front."
Catching his glance, the Logistics officers mentioned they had enough standard
ammunition for two battles and rations for three weeks. They had baseline levels of
aviation and general-purpose fuel. Their numbers showed the army group could fight
for three weeks. Three weeks. Now that the northern front had been reorganized and
the units were preparing for an offensive, if they launched a big push, they could wrap
it up within that time. The enemy's reserve forces had already run dry, so if they could
just take care of the rest on the front with a large offensive…
But Degurechaff replied without even furrowing her brow at their reports. "I'm
against it. The enemy is putting up stiff resistance. I really don't think we'll be able to
break through in such a short time." She flatly rejected the idea, as if she thought it was
simply unreasonable. "Once the troops get more than twenty kilometers from the
light-rail, we'll be forced to maintain the supply lines with sheer manpower. A steady
winter advance is practically out of the question." She heaved a pointed sigh.
A few of the officers winced, but Schreise stood his ground even under her scathing
critique.
He was sure that mopping up enemy remnants would take a week at most. Even in the
worst case, he didn't think the enemy could hold out against a major offensive for three
weeks. The one worrisome element, the enemy mage commandos, had been mostly
neutralized. Ironically, the one who had played a major part in taking them out was
the one stubbornly disagreeing with him, Major von Degurechaff.
Even the logistics situation could be ameliorated if field engineers performed road
maintenance and laid down more light-rail. Frankly, the staunch objection from the
Central officers was just a pain in the neck at this point. If he could find a way to get
rid of them, he would keep holding out.
"You have a point, but the enemy is too worn down to put up a fight. You're the one
who achieved a victory despite being outnumbered two to one. Do you really think
you need to be so scared of the Entente Alliance?"
After all, in terms of mage casualties, too, the enemy army had long exceeded their
limits. Even if the other powers were intervening to some extent, when a newly
formed imperial mage battalion could drive off a whole Entente Alliance regiment, it
said something about the state of their opponent's affairs.
The enemy's major line of defense only mounted sporadic attacks. Capturing the
entirety of the Entente Alliance was only a matter of time. A few intelligence staffers
tried to coax Tanya.
"We're winning on the strength and quality of our troops. We should make our move
now instead of burning through our limited supplies doing nothing."
The intelligence they'd gathered from enemy prisoners indicated that their opponents
were hard up for not only weapons and ammunition but even food. Intelligence had
already decided that the enemy army had lost the ability to fight as a cohesive whole.
Rather than camp out across the way, the Northern Army Group wanted to decisively
end the conflict before the winter set in, but because of one stubborn major, the debate
had been dragged out. What an enormous waste of time.
Schreise couldn't be the only one thinking that he would have thrown her out
immediately if she weren't a representative of the Central Army's view.
"Really? Personally, I can only recall two battalions worn out by our fellow soldiers'
efforts and an unsupported group about the size of an augmented company."
Intelligence's coaxing only earned them a reply that ruined their schemes.
If she hadn't achieved anything, then they could kick her out for clearly being a brat
who knew nothing of the battlefield. Beneath Schreise's dignified exterior, he was
gnashing his teeth. Her achievements were extraordinary.
This was always how it went. The Central Army Group was constantly pushing the
regional army groups around with orders that weren't appropriate to their actual
circumstances. But Rudersdorf, Schreise's junior at war college, had been whispering
in his ear how futile it was to refuse to cooperate with Central. The delicate issue was
that Schreise's superior officer—commander of the Northern Army Group, Colonel
General von Wragell—was very angry.
Though he was getting on in years, the veteran who had long been defending the north
was furious that the Entente Alliance was trying to trample his home, his fatherland,
but he flung curses at the General Staff in equal measure for their repeated errors. So
whenever Schreise thought of his boss, who wanted so much to crush this threat with
his own hands, he felt depressed.
"That doesn't change the fact that you overcame an enemy that outnumbered you. You
slaughtered a group double your size."
"The only confirmed kills were less than the company's worth. It was less defeating
them and more just barely driving them off."
The magic staffers frowned as Degurechaff indirectly emphasized that her battalion
had driven the enemy off. After that, the Northern Army Group had pursued and
achieved as good as nothing. They were to the point of counting anyone they injured
even slightly as a confirmed kill, whereas the Central Army was underreporting.
They'd been granted a concession. He knew they were on the receiving end of some
kind consideration for their reputation. They were listed as having downed a
battalion, but the score mostly belonged to the Central Army troops. Only a few people
were aware of the behind-the-scenes dealings.
That's why, as most of those present looked perplexed, Schreise shot the mage staffers
a look. You owe them, so shut her up!
A staff officer's job is to come up with a concrete plan to actualize the higher-ranking
officers' intentions. So he tried to persuade Degurechaff again. Please just understand
your superiors' wishes and relax your stance! "You can say that, but in our battle
together, the truth is that you achieved the most with your fierce fighting." Hadn't her
dedicated struggle changed the tides of the war? "You say it was only a company, but
that company was the core of the enemy's only mage commando unit. That's the same
as taking out the supporting pillar of the whole regiment!" Hadn't she admirably defeated them? "Major von Degurechaff, I welcome your prudence, but I think you and
your battalion would be able to guard the supply lines." If anyone could do it, surely
the 203rd Aerial Mage Battalion could!
He obliquely implied that the contributions of her and her battalion were very highly
regarded. Even if I'm ignoring your cautionary arguments, I'm not failing to appreciate
the 203rd Aerial Mage Battalion. A high-ranking field officer wearing the staff braid
was, strangely enough, flattering someone who was still only a major, though wearing
the staff badge.
Work with me here, please.
He stared at Major von Degurechaff with the same silent wish as everyone else, careful
not to let her suspect how much pressure he was trying to put on her. She asked
permission to speak, as if nothing was out of the ordinary, and stood casually.
"I don't even know what to say in response to such undeserved praise."
Does she get it?
Yes, it was just as everyone was sighing in relief and the tense atmosphere began to
relax that…
"But as far as I can tell, Entente Alliance Army command units are a mixture of infantry
and mages, so I don't think downing a single company will hinder their activities very
much."
"…What do you mean, Major von Degurechaff?"
"Sir, it's true that in local skirmishes my battalion has emerged victorious. But that
group was the same one our troops fought hard to exhaust and isolate. We drove off
an enemy weakened by consecutive battles, so I hardly think you can say my battalion
took the brunt of their attack."
Can't you even drive off a weakened enemy? she seemed to say with a hint of nastiness.
Probably not on purpose.
"…You're very humble, aren't you?" one of the staff officers murmured, curling the
corners of his mouth into a smile that was more of a sneer.
Normally, they would scold her. That's what everyone was thinking, but they all
hesitated. Scold her for what? Disturbing the harmony of the officer group? But all she
had done was share her opinion on a military situation. Silencing her would go against
the staff officer traditions that the Empire, the Reich, was so proud of.
The one who broke the silence in that awkward atmosphere was the very person who
had created the tense mood. "No, Colonel. I'm just answering based on the facts." Major
von Degurechaff glared at the high-ranking staffers. Well, it was proper etiquette to
look a superior in the eye when addressing them.
But when a mage who had been steeping in gunsmoke and blood on the battlefield
until just recently began staring you down, that was a different story.
A few rash magic officers—no doubt unconsciously—reached for their computation
orbs.
"That's about enough of that." Any more is too much, Schreise decided and interrupted.
Piercing his subordinate with his gaze, he continued as a mediator between the two.
"We understand Major von Degurechaff's opinion now. And her fears are worth
listening to, in part, but our pressing topic right now is bringing the war to a swift
end."
They'd already let her yap this much. They understood the Central Army's position so
well it made them sick. Honestly, it bothered him more than anything in the world, but
he could understand where she was coming from. For a mere major to protest so
stubbornly in a room full of superior officers, she must have been under some strict
orders. Schreise had never seen a major with such a big head without making light of
him.
So the little messenger needs to pipe down. He gave her a resolute stare.
"It is my duty to firmly object. The goal of lessening the load for each regional army
group could backfire and result in a larger burden."
But surprisingly, it had no effect on her. Without hesitating even a little, she—a mere
battalion commander—matter-of-factly gave her opinion to the staff and even had the
audacity to disagree with them.
Even with the sacred, inviolable General Staff's power behind her, she was nearing an
inexcusable challenge to authority.
A head could be allowed to swell only so far. There's a limit to what can be tolerated,
even for recipients of the Silver Wings Assault Badge! Though he wanted to scream at
her and chew her out, he suppressed his fury and said, "Our intention is to lessen the
load on the troops. Major, please refrain from rash remarks."
The major, though still rather new, was readily crossing a line of which all graduates
from the war college should have been aware. She was protesting too much. If they
weren't in a war zone, it would most certainly not be allowed to stand.
This sort of behavior could only escape rebuke on a battlefield. It was practically an
outrage, wasn't it? Indignant, the officers turned their anger on her with violent glares.
But even under such silent censure, Degurechaff made a bold move. She lifted the
coffee cup she had been served for the staff meeting, eyed the milk and sugar on the
table, and murmured, "…In the west, our troops are drinking dirty water, starving and
suffering in the mud. The north is so blessed…"
To the officers watching her, hanging on her every word, the smile on her lips was both
offensive and profoundly meaningful. At the same time, she scanned the room with an
expression that seemed to ask what exactly they were all trying to say from their seats
in this comfortable office. Her face did the talking.
"Naturally, I don't think that affects how much you care about the troops…"
That comment was the last straw for Schreise.
The Central Army was always making unreasonable demands on the regional army
groups. He couldn't take any more of this interference.
Without realizing it, he had kicked his chair away and stood up. He wouldn't listen to
any more of her mouthing off.
"…Major! If you're going to talk like that, then go back to the west! We don't need any
cowards in the north."
"Is that the will of the Northern Army Group?"
"That's enough!"
He realized he was shouting at an officer. He was seized by the urge to kick her out.
Most of the others in the momentarily silent room held their tongues, but they felt the
same way.
Then, with a despicable calm, Degurechaff snapped off a splendid salute.
"Then if you'll excuse me."
With that, she straightened up smoothly and bowed. They could hardly believe it, but
she approached the door with fluid motions and exited the room. No one tried to stop
her.
-x-X-x-
NORDEN HQ, MAJOR GENERAL VON RUDERSDORF'S OFFICE
-x-X-x-
It was after Major von Degurechaff had politely thrown down her gauntlet and left the
meeting with no way to vent her rage. Hearing that she had asked to see him with
utmost urgency, Major General von Rudersdorf nodded. Just as I thought. She never
disappointed, so he was fond of her.
That's what she had to do.
"I know what you're going to say."
That's why he implicitly stated they would get right to the point. Do away with the
empty formalities and spit it out.
"Sir, frankly, considering the situation we're in, an offensive is reckless! Why don't you
stop it?"
"Major, I want you to tell me what you really think."
She raises these indirect objections.
Yes, it was amusing to watch her maintain composure and deliver her opinion with all
the correct etiquette despite the anger seething in her eyes. But he didn't want to hear
tactful, formulaic thoughts.
"Respectfully, sir, I'm a staff officer. I don't believe I'm in a position to say any more."
"I see. You're very easy to understand. Speak freely."
"Thank you, sir."
He'd urged her to speak her mind, but he accepted her polite yet also sharp response.
-x-X-x-
[IMAGE]
-x-X-x-
Aha, so her criticism is so intense that it would be inexcusable for a staff officer to give it
voice? That's an interesting way to get your point across.
Though she didn't say exactly what was on her mind, she'd conveyed her thoughts
with a single indirect remark.
"So this is why Zettour thinks so highly of you, Major. Splendid. Now let's get down to
business."
Zettour would be thrilled. I see. Work goes smoothly with a mage who has strategy on
her radar and is also an outstanding battalion commander.
"What would you think about this offensive if you considered it as a distraction,
Major?"
"It'd be an almost perfectly timed supporting attack… Ah, but do you mean as a decoy,
assuming another main attack?"
She's got a decent head on her shoulders. She's quick, and more importantly, she has the
smarts to put what I'm trying to say together with what she already knows. She's one of
the rare talents who has the steady composure of a staff officer plus the courage of a
commander.
"Evaluate the effects it will have on the various fronts."
"At the very least, the Republic and its supporting countries will keep an eye on the
exchange in Norden, but being able to distract them from offensive preparations
doesn't give us a very large benefit… So then, is there a real operation in Norden? No,
the supply lines couldn't possibly…"
The way she lost herself in thought, as if she had forgotten her rage of a moment ago,
displayed the calm sensibility that was a quality greatly desired in staff officers. Not
many people could think on command under the cool eyes of a third party. And that's
why those few exceptional individuals were always welcome in the Imperial Army.
"And if it goes well, we might even be able to tie up the enemy reinforcements."
"With all due respect, sir…I don't see how launching an offensive with the objective of
tying up enemy reinforcements would help other fronts. I don't think the forces
involved on this front would send out enough reinforcements to affect the Rhine front…which means the offensive should be a feint with some strategic goal in
Norden."
When he told her to work out the meaning of the Northern Group Army's offensive, to
which they were opposed, she arrived calmly at the idea of a feint in Norden.
Impressive, Rudersdorf thought and inwardly raised his opinion of her.
"Hmm, continue."
"To be blunt, are you thinking of occupying territory behind enemy lines? I was
ordered to prepare for an airborne assault…so we'd need some sort of diversion and
then we'd… In the rear? Is it the rear?"
But a conversation is a two-way street. At the same time Rudersdorf is reading
between the lines, so is Tanya. She's thinking that she's seen and heard something like
this before, and she finally manages to salvage the memory from the deepest corners
of her mind.
"What is it, Major?"
Letting Rudersdorf's question slip by at the outer edges of her consciousness, Tanya
assembles the fragments of the memory she's seized.
Tying up enemy forces on the front lines. A feint. An assault on the rear. Remember. I
know I've heard something like this somewhere before. And it was the kind of news I
really like to hear…
Where? Where did I hear it? No, I could have heard it or read it. But I know I've
encountered it before.
"Behind, back… Supply lines? Yes, their supply. Cutting it off?" As the pieces come
together, she mumbles without realizing it. She shuts out even the way Rudersdorf's
face stiffens in shock as she speaks and focuses her thoughts.
The back, yes, something from behind? It was— Right, a thoroughly delightful kick from
the rear.
Suddenly, a word appears in her mind.
Inchon? Yes, Inchon.
…That's it. That immensely pleasurable commie ass kicking. MacArthur pulled off a
miracle with his meager talent: the Battle of Inchon. They made a large-scale
encirclement and cut off the enemy from behind. It was a decisive strike that caused
the North Korean army to collapse.
A great reversal from the annals of world history, where capitalism smote evil
communism!
"Sir, if the main enemy forces are concentrated along the front lines, then wouldn't a
land operation in the rear be one way to end this?"
It seems as though she has just now remembered Rudersdorf's existence, but her
sudden query and calm tone appear contrary to her overflowing confidence.
Thinking of the Battle of Inchon, she realizes the invigorating, admirable strategy of
kicking numbskull commie asses from behind could be employed against enemies
other than communists. After all, it's a way to completely encircle the enemy and get
their own logistics organized. If there's anything wrong with the plan, it's that it
requires absolute control of the sea and the absence of the enemy's main force…
"A large-scale amphibious operation in the rear followed by encirclement to sever
their supply chain. So the offensive would be a diversion for the landing operation?"
To Tanya, all she has done is rediscover historical fact, which is why she forgot that in
this world, it's merely a concept; it hasn't turned into history yet.
So Rudersdorf felt unfathomable shock as Degurechaff mentioned it with such calm
nonchalance, as if it were already a foregone conclusion. But Tanya completely missed
that.
After all, from Rudersdorf's point of view, the amphibious landing was a secret plan
he'd only mentioned to a select few, and now a staff officer on the lower end of the
middle ranks was suggesting it to him as if it were a simple answer. He stopped the
muscles in his face from twitching through sheer power of will. Still wondering where
she'd gotten that idea, he cautiously asked, "Did you hear that from General von
Zettour?"
"Hmm? I'm not sure I understand what you mean, sir."
But Degurechaff gave a puzzled response. It wasn't as if Rudersdorf could read all the emotions and thoughts of his subordinates, but going by his experience, he judged this
was a genuine reaction and was immediately aware of his misunderstanding. The
officer in front of him hadn't heard it from Zettour.
So then, could it be?
No, he thought…but the question welled up inside him: Did she come up with the idea
to do a large-scale landing operation in the rear on her own?
"Did you come up with that yourself?"
"Yes, sir. Considering our situation, I thought it seemed like an effective option."
"…I suppose I should say that's a very interesting idea."
She confirmed it so readily. It was all Rudersdorf could do to conceal his emotions. As
he worked to maintain his facade, he was astonished that she had come up with it, but
at the same time, he could now understand how she had been able to make a
convincing strategic argument regarding transportation even back at the academy.
So that's why, he understood. You can see that much? He was flabbergasted. Either way,
she was a terribly promising officer.
"All right. Yes, we're going to use your unit. Major, transfer orders. Your battalion is to
stand by at the naval base."
"Yes, sir. Understood."
He watched Degurechaff as she calmly nodded in acceptance of her orders; she
seemed just like a child happy to be sent on a little errand. And I gave this child the
orders as easily as if I were sending her to do just that…
…Ahh, you never know what will happen in a war.
"You'll drop in ahead of the landing party and be the vanguard for the army. I'm
expecting great things from you, Major."
Having someone this smart head up the vanguard… Not too shabby. We should be able
to expect a lot from the tip of this spear.
"But may I ask something, sir?"
"What is it, Major?"
"If this was your plan all along, then you didn't really need to suggest I put a check on
the Northern Army Group's offensive, did you?"
Hmm, she's right. Not that he hadn't thought of that. He didn't really want to call for a
halt on the Northern Army Group's offensive and create ill will, especially when he had
heard from Lieutenant General von Schreise that Colonel General von Wragell was
about to explode.
But as Zettour had told him, there were pros and cons to both bending over backward
to attack and bending over backward to avoid attacking. For Operations, fewer fronts
would give them an easier time, but the Service Corps had to worry about supplying
the troops regardless.
"Well, it was General von Zettour's condition."
"What?"
He didn't particularly think he needed to hide the fact. Or rather, he figured she would
find out anyway, and telling her now would be an act of goodwill toward a fellow
member of the General Staff.
"He said we should forget about the Entente Alliance and focus on domestic defense.
Either way has its logic, and if the Northern Army Group had agreed, I would have sent
you to the Rhine and been preparing to survive the winter."
"Understood. If you'll excuse me, I'll be on my way."
-x-X-x-
NORTHERN ARMY GROUP BARRACK 7
(WHERE THE BATTALION HAD BEEN GARRISONED)
-x-X-x-
"Major?"
The one who meets Major von Degurechaff when she returns to the barrack to notify
the troops of their reassignment is Officer of the Week, her vice commander, First Lieutenant Weiss. How considerate of him to have an orderly ready an extra coat and
coffee—that efficiency is skill and experience. He really is excellent material.
The best part is that he doesn't smoke. Tanya's nose is sensitive to tobacco. And the
staff meeting is always smoky. No, I wouldn't deny anyone cigarettes on the battlefield,
but I'd like separate smoking and nonsmoking areas. Or just tell them, Don't blow
smoke in my face. It makes my eyes sting and my nose itch. I resent this assault on my
tear ducts.
Limitations on individual rights are obviously oppression and, as such, difficult for
people to stomach. Still, it should be fine if I murder the senior officers who refuse to
stop obnoxiously huffing their smoke in my face, right?
They don't even do any work, but the cigars they light up are luxury items. Tanya can't
help but be disgusted. The gall they must have to voice nonexistent concern for the
troops. Even when I have to spout some wholesome crap, I keep up appearances better
than that.
"That was truly pointless. What an utter waste of time and budget."
We could have a phony war,9 but instead these nutcases want to fight for real. You don't
even need a consultant to point out how little can be done with scant, poor managerial
resources.
Lost in thought, Tanya sets her staff officer's bag on the desk and begins scribbling
notes about the state of the war on a map. Her cover of staying in the north can't keep
her from the front lines anymore now that a mobile defense unit was no longer
necessary to protect pulling supply lines back.
Not only that, but the Northern Army Group is planning an offensive that reeks of a
death march. Meanwhile, the General Staff, for its part, is planning a top secret landing
operation around the rear.
"These guys are too into war."
From the bottom of my heart, I advise you to think twice about surrounding yourself
with people who are overly fond of war. I can't keep up with their notion of fighting
with barely any mate riel.
I can't believe they don't want to leisurely build fortifications while we wait for supplies and leave the fierce fighting to the others.
I'd like to suspect them of being too steeped in the romance of achievement and
militarism, but now that the General Staff is planning a major amphibious operation
in the rear, they, too, seem way more into the idea of fighting than I thought.
"I can't understand this world."
I didn't want to confess my incompetence, but I decided there was nothing else to do.
That said, if it's a winnable battle, then it should be fine to advocate loudly for the
advance. And if we're air-dropping in, we can just fly right back out if things get rough.
Considering how uniquely mobile aerial mages are, she estimates the risk to be low
and grows fairly enthusiastic about the strike on the rear.
Even MacArthur managed it. The Empire's General Staff is way more serious about
war than that guy was, so I'm sure they'll come up with an ultraprecise plan for us. It
will be my first time to fight according to an operation plan by General von Rudersdorf,
but when I tried talking to him, he seemed unexpectedly easy to work with. This might
just pan out, thinks Tanya, genuinely looking forward to it.
"Get me an extra map."
"Here you go, ma'am."
But that doesn't mean there aren't any problems.
She takes the map of the entire northern theater from her subordinate and compares
it to her annotated situation map.
She buries her head in her hands and racks her brain, but fjords really have an optimal
shape for coastal defense. You could bombard the narrow bodies of water all you liked,
so if you placed as many batteries as you had along them, they would be impenetrable.
The only thing that saves Tanya is the lesson from history that sometimes a fortress
built against the water is terribly vulnerable to an invasion by land, like Singapore.
Having had that thought, Tanya tries moving the pawns according to the scenario she
envisions.
The batteries guarding the fjords are certainly a threat to a fleet of warships. Yes, a threat—but to warships… If they all face the sea, they could probably be blown up
fairly easily from behind with explosives or what have you. And coastal guns are
usually positioned facing the mouth of a bay. They aren't built with the expectation of
bombardment from behind.
Can we win? To Tanya, even if their opponents were spirits who strayed from
Moominvalley, the deciding factor is that their defensive shells could be shattered.
"An attack from behind… I suppose our chances of success are decent enough."
Farewell from a sinking ship. It's the most obvious, commonsense thing to do. But in
extremely rare cases, the ship doesn't sink, and sometimes you can even make a
fortune. If that possibility exists, we should happily count it as a winning battle. With
that thought, Tanya rolls up the map with the war forecast and mixes it in with the
reports for the General Staff.
After all, the General Staff is planning an operation on such a large scale. You can only
call them stupid if they get so far without a contingency plan in case of failure. It's
worrisome that the Operations Division of the General Staff—section chief–rank
officers—are planning the operation on the assumption that the northern forces will
ignore the General Staff's "advice" and march north. Is the cooperation between the
regional armies and the General Staff even shakier than I thought? This anxious
thought crosses my mind.
Then again, if I think of the ill will as a legacy of their predecessors, who committed
the Great Army to Norden and then pulled it out the next instant, it makes sense.
Ludwig really mucked it up. Technically, of course, the General Staff is nothing more
than one of His Imperial Majesty the Emperor's advisory committees—even if the
supreme authority is simply rubber-stamping things for them. Each regional army
group may be nominally loyal to that committee, but if everyone isn't cooperating well,
that's a problem.
But no, that's exactly the point. After that realization, Tanya practically sighs. I should
probably be thinking that if the northern forces' little adventure fails, the General Staff
will take advantage of the fact that the world is watching the foray by attempting a
major operation of their own in Norden. And if that works, the General Staff will have
taken the initiative to lead the war.
Currently, the Entente Alliance can repel the Empire's advance with guerrilla-style interception, but they don't have the available force to counterattack. Until some
obstacle to defense in Norden appears, it's practically a political issue to consider
something that isn't in accordance with the Imperial Army elites' wishes.
In other words, it's a Vitamin P problem.
"I don't want to get mixed up in this…"
No, wait. Let's chill for a minute. At least Tanya has a lot of experience. She won't make
the same mistake over and over.
My common sense is not always common. Might there not be some sort of religion that
teaches people to love war and recommends suicide?
"Lieutenant Weiss, do you want to kill yourself?"
"Huh? Er, why do you ask that all of a sudden?" He replies with a question to confirm
her intention. Well, judging from his reaction, I'm worrying over nothing.
I guess that makes sense. After that thought, Tanya reaches for the coffee Second
Lieutenant Serebryakov brought. It's cold up north. There's no way I could stand it
without drinking hot coffee. The only thing is, Northern Command has a tendency to
treat me like a kid and load up every cup with milk and sugar… I hate that.
"It's hard to believe, but apparently there will be an all-out offensive. What a waste of
soldiers."
Until the appointed hour arrives for Tanya to open her sealed orders, she tells her
trusty vice commander, Lieutenant Weiss, only as much as she can. She can't let
anything slip.
In other words, to summarize what she can explain now: There will be a big offensive
this winter. And with only that context, she can't get rid of the impression that the
Northern Army Group is rushing things with their sights set on an easy advance like
what happened in the war with Dacia.
It's like making a huge gamble when you don't have much cash on hand—although
since the stakes are actually soldiers' lives, it won't hurt the high-ranking officers'
pockets at all. If the Chicago school were to analyze it, they would diagnose a severe
lack of proper incentives.
"…Is there money for logistics?"
I'm guessing Lieutenant Weiss's incredulous reaction is an average person's response.
Unless the Northern Army Group's commanders have some strange concept of supply
lines, I don't know what they're thinking. Do they have a secret stash of cash
somewhere?
If so, those are off-the-books resources. We'd have to dismiss the inspectors. Talk
about lazy. This is why they say we can't prevent bubble economies. Proper audits are
indispensable for a market to function normally!
"How would there be? Once winter hits, the trains will stop running, too. I have no idea
where they're planning on bringing in supplies from."
Well, in any age, there are also markets that only officials who come to collect taxes do
well in. To prove it, not even believers in the free market system call for the
privatization of tax collection.
Meanwhile, there's a fountain of diverse critiques and plans regarding expenditures.
Look, even the Chicago school is against privatizing tax collection!
With that thought, however, I suddenly feel like something is off.
"So what about us?"
"When I pointed out the risk of an offensive, we were ordered to the naval base. So I
don't think we can expect funds for a victory celebration."
And this is an absolutely miserable misunderstanding created in the name of
confidentiality. Even if my intention is to be transferred according to the will of the
Central Army, a Northern Army Group administrator won't see it that way, so I'm sure
the Budget section will reject the fund requisition. They'll make the excuse that it's not
under their jurisdiction and refuse to pay out what they promised us just the other
day.
I can only see it as bullying. Even if I accept the reshuffle, we have made contributions
here and should have the right to commensurate compensation. Anyhow, we'll just
have to secure celebration funds by "borrowing" from the Northern Army Group
somehow. Hmm…? Finding funds somehow?
"As such, Lieutenant Serebryakov, we need to dip into the battalion's treasury, so draw
up a budget."
"Understood. Umm, how much should I use?"
I could take funds for a little party from the battalion treasury, but maybe we should
avoid having a big bash in this war situation…? When she considers this, Tanya figures
she is thinking too hard and shrugs. She has worked her troops hard in this freezing
cold. Rather than developing a cruel reputation, it would be better to have a heart and
convince them she was kind, even if they got a little wild.
"Hmm, let's have a grand old time and not set an upper limit for alcohol spending."
Just as she is about to tell her to get it done—
"Major, sorry to intrude, but we have enough free alcohol to swim in."
It was Lieutenant Weiss who interrupted with a triumphant look on his face.
After inadvertently starting to ask where he'd snatched the liquor from, Tanya wills
her mouth shut, somehow successfully communicating with her expression of
disbelief instead.
"Umm, excuse me for butting in, but we were able to get this full complement of
canteen alcohol due to the kindness of a local unit."
Lieutenant Serebryakov jumps in to respond to my suspicious look. Partly because
we've been together for a while now, she's getting good at knowing what types of
things I worry about.
"Oh, don't worry. The Viper Battalion bought it with their own money as a gesture of
goodwill, I guess you could say."
Very good. Tanya nods in satisfaction. Someone is treating us because they're pleased
with our work. That's wonderful. The only problem is that due to military regulations
and my age, I can't drink a drop even if I want to.
"Great. Go and buy some chicken or something, Lieutenant." I'd like to sink my teeth
into some roast chicken, at least. "We'll have to toast the Viper Battalion. Thanks to
them, I can treat my battalion."
"Yeah, we can't really thank them enough."
Well, they're mages. They're well-paid. After all, there are deployment allowances,
transfer allowances, hazard pay, etc. They each make enough to build a small house,
so if you count the entire battalion's funds, it adds up to quite a lot.
"Indeed. Well, this is a good opportunity. Let's send them a message inviting them to
the party."
That's what we'll do. It's not so bad to bond with our kind allies who weakened our
prey for us before we arrived. More than anything, I want to clear up the
misunderstanding that must have arisen due to that repugnant confession of faith.
I'm normal.
I have to prevent weird rumors from damaging my reputation.
-x-X-x-
NOVEMBER 29, UNIFIED YEAR 1924, HOME PORT OF THE NORTHERN SEA
FLEET, FLAGSHIP COMMAND
-x-X-x-
Along the strait, it's nearly time for the decisive battle. A high-strung excitement runs
through the air at the Imperial Army base. Usually the atmosphere feels almost heavy,
but for the moment, it's so lively it keeps the cold at bay. The officers and men running
here and there are visibly tense—no one is relaxed.
It's the excitement that occurs immediately before a large-scale operation. Humans
are a pain in the neck; though wise enough to fear fighting, they are also easily
intoxicated by the romance of the military. This has to be the concentrated effect of
everyone's wish to taste sweet victory.
Those who can't share in this festive atmosphere appear to be in the minority.
Resigning herself to the fact, Tanya goes to the designated flagship command meeting
room. As far as she can tell from a glance at the soldiers coming and going in the halls
on her way, the entire Northern Sea Fleet crew seems full of fighting spirit. Even the
vessels that would be left behind seem to be longing to sortie enough to rush out of
there at any moment.
And the operational factors necessary for taking advantage of that spirit appear to have been given the necessary consideration. A large number of transport ships are
anchored in the bay, and among them are some that could qualify as landing crafts
after being outfitted for the amphibious assault. They probably have landing crafts
requisitioned as high-speed transports ready to go as well. As far as she can see, traffic
in the bay is orderly, and ships are in a position to begin operations at any time, thanks
to the controlling performed with the Empire's usual efficiency.
Tanya is conscious again of the weight of her responsibility; a lot is expected of her
unit as the vanguard. It's better for people to expect greatness of you than not, but it
comes with a lot of annoyances.
That said, she conceals any determination to live up to those expectations and calmly
takes her assigned seat in the meeting room. She ignores the attention she is getting
by nonchalantly looking over the pre-meeting handouts once again. Of course, in part,
she wants to reread them to circumvent any avoidable problems during the operation.
Just as she's already read many times, it seems like her unit's role is fairly large. Having
their performance determine whether the operation would work or not is a big
responsibility. Drop in, capture the coastal guns. It'll be glorious but a challenge. If we
fail, the whole army will be stuck in the fjords.
"It's time, so I'd like to begin."
Even while she is lost in thought, the hands on the clock keep ticking. Then, when they
reach the appointed hour, an Imperial Navy staff member announces the beginning of
the meeting in a solemn voice, and everyone turns toward the commander of the
operation, the fleet commander, in unison.
"All right, I'll explain the situation."
Tanya listens to the commander as he briefs everyone, unaware of her feelings on the
topic and with a sober expression, but the gripes in her head threaten to overflow.
Internally, she complains up a storm, whining over and over that it sure would have
been nice if the drop team had been given a few more men.
"We'll be performing a mission in support of the Northern Army Group's operation."
…In support of the Northern Army Group? Tanya starts to think, but then it makes sense
to her. Yes, the Central Army is nominally giving credit for the operation to the
Northern Army Group. I guess it's a show of the General Staff's intentions or kindness, you could say. After the awkwardness between them over the Great Army mobilization
issues, this'll be a heartwarming reconciliation.
In other words, this is a lousy plan, a military operation loaded with the higher-ups'
motives. But you could also say that they'd managed it in a nominal way that wouldn't
come back to bite the troops on the ground; instead of a political compromise, they
had pulled off a splendid handshake.
After all, the Northern Army Group is going on the offensive, and as a bonus they get
the honor of leading the operation. Even if they fail, no one in the Northern Army
Group will be harmed if the General Staff take responsibility for implementing the
action plan. Then again, if it goes well, the war situation improves, so it's worth it for
the General Staff.
Major General von Rudersdorf came out to make an inspection—it's probably his evil
scheming. On the one hand, I'm impressed with the move, but on the other, I want to
lament just a little bit that when you belong directly to Central, this is how you get
used as a tool.
"As you all know, we currently have both the Northern Sea Fleet and the High Seas
Fleet deployed on a northern support mission."
Then there's the situation being described. The main force of the Northern Sea Fleet
is a support unit that acts as a sort of check on the Entente Alliance. Their mission is
to prevent the Entente Alliance's warships from escaping to Republic waters while
simultaneously supporting the army maneuvers on land.
So ignoring those ships to perform the amphibious operation is almost a strategic
sneak attack. It isn't about sealed orders or intercepting the fleet—the plan from the
first is to ignore the Entente Alliance fleet.
The Northern Sea Fleet is going beyond the parameters of its original mission and
sortieing for the sole purpose of receiving a huge number of reinforcements in the
High Seas Fleet and performing the landing operation. The Entente Alliance ships that
will surely come to stop them will be kept at bay by the High Seas Fleet. If the Northern
Sea Fleet can complete their operation during that time, the war situation will see a
literal reversal.
The success of a strategic sneak attack is tantalizing. You could say a winnable battle is just dangling in front of us. It's a comparably safe opportunity to achieve things and
get promoted. I'm not the only one—there's nothing strange about a soldier wanting
to join a winning battle.
Actually, the ones left behind with no prospect of sortieing get depressed or look for
an excuse to go. Anyone is happy to be told they're going on the attack.
If there's one problem, it's the weather. History tells us units sent into harsh winter
conditions always end up getting stuck in some lousy situation. And we'll be
performing an airborne operation. If we fall into the ocean, we'll freeze to death like
Titanic victims.
Even the bright red Soviet Army met with all kinds of disaster in winter wars. The
Imperial Army isn't used to such conditions, so if we fall into the winter ocean, we'll
be turned into frozen meat packs.
"This means almost all our main force is going, but that's just how big the objective
is…" The fleet commander leaves it as implied for just a moment, then solemnly states
our target. "…the Osfjord. We're going for a direct strike on their rear communication
lines."
The Osfjord… When everyone grasps the significance of what they've been told, a
momentary silence descends.
Fjords are bad news for naval ships. The detestable narrow bodies of water with
terrible cliffs on either side enable the enemy to shoot at them from any direction.
Even without counting the threat of mines, if there are guns on both sides, any ship
that makes a run for it can only lament its fate to be pummeled to death. The gunners
will surely shower the marks with shells as they struggle to maneuver in the narrow
waters.
And although their navy may only have a few destroyers left, if that, the cramped space
forces us to worry about torpedoes.
What's more, given the geographical importance of Os, the Osfjord will be more
heavily guarded than the average fjord.
"Under these circumstances, we need to go in ahead of the fleet's advance and capture
the enemy guns."
From the time General von Rudersdorf gave her secret orders to prepare for an
airborne operation, Tanya has pretty much been expecting this. Neutralize coastal
guns in an aerial mage sneak attack is practically the same thing as support the fleet as
they make a run down the fjord. For what other reason would the army pit their elites
against a rear echelon coastal stronghold?
She finds herself balling up her fists inside her sleeves. Capturing enemy guns ahead
of the operation to take the mouth of the bay… In other words, our drop operation is
a gamble that could decide everything. And we won't be walking leisurely down a
gangway in this cold weather but parachuting out of the sky with our computation
orbs and rifles in hand. If we fail, it will be a huge disaster.
"Our aim is to disable enemy guns in a short amount of time to allow the fleet's entry."
It's easy to order someone to get in there, but it sounds pretty outrageous to the one
told to go.
The purpose of the airborne operation is fine. I can grasp the military need for it. At
least, I understand that it has to be done. But what's this about us securing the guns?
The operation is in support of the navy, so it would make more sense to have the
marine mages do it, since they train closely with the fleet. If instead we seize the guns
and sweep the area, it'll be basically like rolling out a carpet for the fleet to waltz down.
"Our troops are having difficulties, so in order to support them and deliver a decisive
blow, I want us to do this right."
…That's easy to say, but can we? Can we really capture enemy guns on bad, snowy
footing in the fjord? If we were told to suppress enemy forces in that region, well, that
just would have to be done, but the responsibility of seizing all the enemy guns is
enormous.
Talk about mission impossible.
That said, there's a limit to how much mages can do as direct support for the fleet, and
if guns remain, it's entirely possible that the ships won't be able to enter. So someone
has to get saddled with this unlucky operation. Annoyingly enough, that someone is
the 203rd Aerial Mage Battalion.
"And the vanguard will be… We're expecting great things from you, Major von
Degurechaff."
"May I say something?"
"What is it, Major?"
"My unit is an augmented battalion. Setting aside the issue of firepower, I may not have
enough men to take all the guns and cover the enemy reinforcements who are bound
to attack."
I hate resisting superior officers. There is nothing I want to do less. But that's why I
have to be bold at times like these.
Anyone can smash you if you oppose them with a subservient attitude. But if, on the
contrary, you make your case so confidently that it must be logical, it sounds more
persuasive. And if people think you're giving a constructive suggestion with the aim
of accomplishing your mission, then even an excuse transforms into the genuine truth.
So I have to be the donkey borrowing the lion's skin. I just want to probe slightly. Even
if I fail, this isn't rebellious enough to cause me trouble.
"Don't worry. We were fearing that as well, so we're arranging for two regiments of
marines to reinforce you thirty minutes after your drop."
"Understood. So in a worst-case scenario, do I have the right to suggest aborting the
operation?"
Her attitude says she doesn't feel at all bad as she masks her request. Any sign of
hesitation can be interpreted as cowardice, but if a request is stated with conviction,
it will most likely have a measure of persuasive power.
It's not about who's right or wrong; it's about who makes their claims in a loud voice
with confidence.
"…What do you mean?"
"Simply that if my unit fails, the fleet may be exposed to needless danger."
What if, hypothetically, we fail?
That we would have to withdraw is self-evident. Put another way, we'd be able to avoid
unfeasible orders to "just do something" so the fleet could get in. Once we decide to
fall back, all the mages have to do is fly away.
Even if the right to call for withdrawal isn't granted, the record of me asking for it
would make it possible for me to argue that I made every effort to avoid risks.
"You mean, we should prioritize the safety of the fleet in the event you can't neutralize
the guns?"
That's level one cleared. If I haven't been flat-out refused, it shows he's willing to listen.
A good officer would give serious consideration to the risks the fleet would face if we
failed to take the guns and they were in working order. An officer concerned with selfpreservation would be worried about being blamed for the results of a forced charge
under such circumstances.
Either way, he has to carefully analyze what I've said, weigh the pros and cons, and see
what he thinks.
"If we don't take preserving the fleet seriously enough, we may let the Republican or
Commonwealth fleet slip in. That would render the blockade meaningless and create
a very dangerous situation."
So I give him a little push. The concern of weakened patrol in our waters. I just prod
his instincts as an officer of the navy by asking whether we should really conduct a
landing mission at the risk of our command of the sea. It's really too reasonable.
Whether he's out for self-preservation or not, he can't ignore this. Of course, I can't
push too hard. Balance in this, too, is paramount. That said, if I don't mess up the
pressure level, I can persuade him without upsetting him too much.
"…That's a reasonable concern, but we can't leave our course of action up to a single
advance unit. Major, if you fail, fall back to join your reinforcements and try again."
"Understood, sir. But due to a quirk of the command structure, I can neither command
nor be commanded by marine mages…" Having gotten this far, I just need to give him
an excuse. He must know how things work. The navy's original job is only providing
escorts to the mouth of the bay and maybe firing their cannons. I'm sure he doesn't
want to exacerbate mage command structure issues. "In light of that, I'd like
permission to advise aborting if the marine regiment commanders agree."
It's an adjusted step to save everyone's faces and avoid any bothersome disputes.
It doesn't take any time at all for him to agree.
"…All right. You have it."
A few days later, the operation is to be carried out as scheduled, and Tanya and the
brave members of the 203rd Aerial Mage Battalion are in a transport plane being
taken to the drop zone as the vanguard.
The plan is to jump at the crack of dawn and capitalize on the enemy's confusion in
order to seize the guns. As the ones performing the operation, it seems risky, but
coastal fortifications are extremely vulnerable to attacks from behind, so it has its
logic.
"I guess we might be able to do this…?" Tanya murmurs, inwardly seeking comfort in
reason.
Coastal fortifications are put in place to prepare for attacks by enemy ships and units.
When she tells herself there is no reason for the backside to be protected because all
that's there are the communication lines to the rear echelon, it feels like they have a
chance of succeeding. Even if the enemy is on guard against a sneak attack, their units
are likely to be only lightly outfitted.
The coastal fortifications would say that the army should protect the rear and that
their purpose was to prevent attacks by sea. And a century ago, they wouldn't have
been wrong.
"I've cut the engines! We're gliding!"
The announcement from the cockpit alerts them that they have entered the final prep
stage.
Loath to betray even the sound of the engine, we make our careful gliding approach.
Naturally, our drop will be performed with airborne gear and not rely on magic. If we
can't descend undetected, Tanya's fate is sealed.
"All right. All hands, prepare to jump."
She can only hope the troops she has trained will put all their talents on display. Her
only tasks now are to increase the probability of success and eliminate obstacles.
And a commander can't wear an anxious expression moments before an operation.
That's why she orders them to prepare with the carefree tone of someone announcing picnic plans.
It's a bit surreal to see mages in full gear jostling around in the cramped plane, but
they're getting ready, anyhow, so that's good.
"You've heard this before, but our targets are the guns and mines guarding the fjord.
Capturing them is optimal, but if that proves difficult, disabling or damaging them to
inhibit effective functioning is fine." She doesn't insist that she believes in them but
reconfirms their objectives matter-of-factly. "I think you know this, but if we fail, the
landing unit will get stuck in the fjord."
Guns are not fortresses, which means they aren't impossible to capture. Most
importantly, their muzzles are pointed at the sea. They aren't set up to fight mages
dropping in on them from behind, but they still have the power to trap the fleet. That's
why this operation hinges on us.
"There isn't much wiggle room in the schedule. Thirty minutes after we drop, marine
mages will arrive ahead of the fleet to back us up, but the plan is for them to deal with
enemy reinforcements on the ground. Basically, we have to do this ourselves."
If things get bad, I can make a joint suggestion with the commanders of the troops
coming later to abort the operation, but the consequences would be the sacrifice of
my career and worse. I'd be ruined. I have no interest in going to ruin by myself, but
to avoid ruin entirely, if possible, is surely the modest wish at the root of all human
emotions.
"Destroy all the positions as best you can in thirty minutes. I expect you to all be
putting the true power of aerial mages on display out there."
So Tanya is expecting a lot out of her subordinates. No, not even expecting—all she
can do is hope. Don't fuck this up. Please show me you have more than it takes.
"Lieutenant, head up the capture of the Albert battery. I'll take the Narva battery as
planned."
"Understood. What time are we lifting radio silence?" Vice Commander Weiss
confirms for the third time.
"If you fail to seize the position, contact me immediately. Otherwise, the plan is to
maintain radio silence until our reinforcements arrive."
"What about enemy reinforcements?"
"Come crying to me if you can't handle them. Otherwise, crush them."
"Yes, ma'am."
Reconfirming everything to make sure we don't miss anything and keeping the troops
informed of relevant information—we're model communicators. Anyhow, we can't say
for sure that we'll succeed, but there are blatant reasons we could fail, so there's no
better way to prepare than getting rid of them.
"Okay, Lieutenant Serebryakov, you're our reserve commander. If Lieutenant Weiss
and I go dark, order the retreat."
"Retreat, ma'am?"
"The operation is a failure if you lose our signals. If well-outfitted enemies show up,
you have no chance of winning. We're just like canaries."
A canary in a coal mine gives its warning by dying. The point of view that resulted in
this method is exemplary in its practicality. Of course, we face the vexing reality that
the army values us and canaries equally.
That said, though Tanya made this troubling simile, she has absolutely no intention of
nobly sacrificing herself. If need be, she'll make a scene screaming about the danger
to everyone as she makes an airborne escape; that's how far her loyalty to the Reich
goes.
"Then I'll try to sing my sweetest."
I kind of have to hand it to Weiss for that joke.
"I'm not interested in hearing you sing, Lieutenant. Get ready to move out!"
"Yes, ma'am!"
As each soldier briskly checks over their gear, Tanya grabs her parachute, makes the
last pre-jump checks, and nods in satisfaction.
If I have no choice but to go, I should at least do a good job.
"Okay! Go!"
When it came to zeal for one's work, Colonel Anson Sue of the Entente Alliance Army
was like Tanya—the kind of person who made rigorous preparations for battle.
"Enemy attack!"
"That's insane! We can detect their mana signals from this far away? What's the
suppression squad doing…?"
Colonel Sue's unit had just been stationed there out of a need to protect the sea, and
although they weren't in perfect fighting condition, they were already on guard—no
doubt because he had learned the horror of completely losing the initiative in battle.
And especially considering their situation now… Ever since they had carelessly started
the war, the pressure had been growing.
"They were attacked in their sleep? Is the army even training people properly
anymore?"
Which was why Sue couldn't hide his displeasure with the chaos descending over their
coastal guns and clicked his tongue in annoyance. The discipline was probably so lousy
because they were calling up reserves from the rear.
"…Enemy status?"
At that time, he was regarding the attack as a mere bit of harassment. But even a
harassing attack on the guns was a nasty move that could lead to a dispersal of their
forces in the name of stationing additional troops in a rear echelon city like Os. One
might say that he still had the wherewithal to lament such things at that point.
No, more accurately, he was sighing while keeping a hopeful eye on the situation.
Colonel Sue himself probably didn't understand the core of his emotions.
But up until then, at least…he didn't grasp how grave the situation was.
"Unclear. I have reports that the coastal units are engaged…and it seems the patrol
boats haven't made their regular check-ins."
"What? Ask the patrol line what's going on. Could be a sneak attack by mages flying out of a sub."
Approach in secret and attack. In that sense, a commando unit and a submarine went
together perfectly. That was why Sue persistently appealed to the military to adopt
submarines, but sadly, the Entente Alliance Navy was really only a slightly thickerskinned version of a coast guard. They didn't have the resources to allot submarines
for use in magic operations. The few they had, frustratingly enough, had gone on their
periodic deep-sea exercise before the start of the war and then wound up getting
disarmed as warships in a neutral country. That disgraceful situation meant they had
zero operational submarines.
Reflecting jealously, Sue wondered if they could perhaps capture one as he had his
men get ready to sortie. He had the radio operator connect him with the picket line.
"I've been calling them, but none of the ships are replying…"
"Do you think there's some kind of confusion and they can't connect?"
That was when he understood the situation.
The picket line ships had gone dark. If it were only one of them, it could have just
happened to be near the submarine and gotten attacked, but if the entire surface
warning line went quiet, that was not a minor problem. No, it meant the root of the
trouble was on the surface!
"…Crap! They're targeting the guns? We're moving out! Scramble!"
Enemy mages were sneak attacking the batteries. And they had lost contact with the
ships on the sea.
"Huh?"
"The guns are all facing forward!"
It was the enemy. An enemy attack. A major methodical attack! The fatherland, my
country…the home I must protect…
"In the air now! Scramble! Engines on!"
Sue's unit, taking off with determination in their breasts, was an unexpected newcomer for the Imperial Army. The Imperial Army General Staff thought it was a
newly organized unit that had just been stationed there. They had also grasped that
the enemy troops were not very content and tended to have insufficient logistical
support, and the General Staff's intelligence wasn't wrong. So the staff officer who had
analyzed the data came to the utterly commonsense conclusion that it was a static
guard with a measure of defensive capabilities that was protecting the city of Os.
And that was why he thought the troops would be able to clean them up with the
strength of their main force.
He had figured that by the time that unit had assembled to counterattack, the main
imperial force would have already landed.
And he wasn't entirely wrong. Only his conclusion was.
After all, at face value, Colonel Anson's force was a puny mage battalion, a mix of wheat
and chaff that was undertrained and lacking unity.
But the Empire didn't know why these troops were fighting. Because it didn't need to
yet.
Still, from a totally objective standpoint, the unavoidable truth is… The Imperial Army
commander, Tanya, muttering mainly curses at either God or the devil about the
arrival of these unforeseen enemies, has to come up with a way to handle the situation.
"Major! New enemies!"
The rapidly approaching formation is a battalion-sized group of mages. Both their
speed and altitude are quite impressive. No doubt about it, they're a first-rate
interception unit—and a horrible nightmare for the 203rd Aerial Mage Battalion
suppressing enemies on the ground.
"I see that! Lieutenant Serebryakov, take command of First Company and stop them!"
"Major, it's too dangerous with only one company! I'll share some troops from my
group."
"Lieutenant Weiss, you just capture that battery! We'll figure out some way to handle
this."
Tanya decides without a moment's hesitation to go meet them herself.
I'm at wit's end, but I can't run away. If I send my subordinates up and they get the shit
kicked out of them, there'll be nowhere for me to run. If that's how it'll go, Tanya feels
more at ease intercepting them herself from the start and preparing for trouble.
True, she isn't terribly keen on facing an elite-seeming enemy battalion with a force
the size of a company, but it's better than the fear of having them on top of her. If she
doesn't want be made into a target, she has to get above them.
"R-roger!"
"First Company, follow me! We're intercepting!"
The moment their short exchange is finished, Tanya accelerates to climb hard. As she
swiftly ascends, aiming to occupy a combat altitude that is even with or superior to
their opponent's, she catches sight of the tiny dots drawing nearer every second.
And as one side got visual confirmation, so too did the other.
"We can't get through to the surface!"
"I've got visuals! They're on their way up to meet us!"
As Colonel Sue's battalion raced across the sky in a messy formation and reached the
Osfjord, the situation was as he had feared. The batteries had descended into chaos
due to a sneak attack.
Not only that, but enemy mages were smoothly gaining altitude while maneuvering
into combat formation, as if they had been skillfully lying in wait.
He could instantly gather from their impressive aptitude and clean formation that they
were formidable opponents—in other words, the kind he hated.
"They're fast!"
"A company? They must think we're wimps!"
"These guys parachuted in. Don't underestimate their training! Put our numerical
advantage to good use! Let's go!"