CHAPTER- II

A FEW DAYS BEFORE CHRISTMAS, UNIFIED YEAR 1926, FEDERATION TERRITORY,

IN THE VICINITY OF THE MULTINATIONAL FORCES HEADQUARTERS

Contrary to what most assume, secret discussions are more conspicuous when trying to avoid watchful eyes. People who sneak around intending to do something they feel guilty about naturally attract attention.

"What's the objective of this operation?"

"I've heard it's to hasten the Empire's attrition with a limited offensive."

Upon openly leaving the joint forces headquarters, Lieutenant Colonel Drake and Colonel Mikel had headed to their designated lodgings together while carrying on a sparse exchange regarding the military operation coming up in a few days that had been hastily wedged into the schedule.

"Under this snowy sky?" Drake emitted a sigh and sipped his cold tea.

The Federation's General Winter didn't discriminate. He might have done great against the Empire, but the fact that he couldn't tell friend from foe was problematic.

Scratch that, murmured Drake in his head. It wasn't as if General Winter was a Federation patriot. Someone who treated everyone equally wasn't an ally to anyone.

Neutral parties were often an arrogant bunch.

"The best thing to do while General Winter is on a rampage is batten down the hatches. Even social events have their season."

"There's no doubt about that. I don't quite understand it myself. But…" Mikel smiled

tiredly. "…We've received military orders—strict orders—from high up in Moskva. We don't have a say. There's nothing we can do about it," he spat.

Drake understood immediately what a difficult position Mikel was in.

To put it plainly, he was stuck balancing a cruel scale. Faced with the duty to produce results no matter what, he would probably have to use his men, who were practically family, as if they were disposable goods.

Anyone who didn't feel conflicted in that situation had to be lacking something fundamentally human. Sadly, this was a dilemma all commanders were forced to face during wartime.

"If you've heard any opinions about this from the Commonwealth side, I hope you'll tell me, just between us."

"I'm sorry, Colonel Mikel. I know nothing about it." "What?"

"I mean, Colonel. The only orders we've received are to 'cooperate with the Federation Army.' Even if we're informed of something new, we never hear the details behind the matter." He clicked his heels and made a formal report. Maybe he couldn't handle delivering such ludicrous news without becoming ridiculously serious.

"…I guess we're both having a hard time."

Drake shrugged and reached to take a mini bottle of scotch off a shelf anchored to the wall. Jam went well with tea, but the best thing for venting was an old friend.

He poured generously into his teacup and took a gulp. "Would you like some? To add flavor?"

"My word, an offer of a drink from an allied soldier? Out of consideration for the relations between our two countries, the etiquette of diplomacy makes it difficult to refuse. I accept."

"…Yes, I insist."

With a laugh, Mikel sipped from his teacup, which was filled mostly with scotch plus just enough tea to add flavor. He wasn't about to say anything so insensitive as It's practically all alcohol! There was too much absurdity going on in the world to face it sober.

"What are we going to do, Lieutenant Colonel Drake?" Mikel's abrupt murmur was strangely somber.

Well, I don't blame him. Drake figured the polite thing to do was remain silent and take a sip.

This didn't require a lot of talk.

For a little while, they abandoned themselves to their drinks, but then Mikel suddenly broached the main topic of their meeting. "Officially, this limited offensive is supposed to secure a foothold. The idea is to lay the groundwork for the major spring counteroffensive, but it's my personal opinion that we're already doing everything we can." His words, spoken as he gazed out the window far into the distance, were heavy. "I won't call it reckless, but even as a staunch patriot, I can say with confidence that it's risky."

"But you're already in good shape, aren't you?" "On paper…"

Do you mean that…? Drake asked with his eyes and Mikel shrugged.

"In short, all we have are raw recruits. In the worst cases, there are probably some conscripts who are being registered as we speak."

When Drake got the exceedingly grave hint, his blood ran cold.

"That's shocking enough to drive off even the pleasure of a warm drink. Is it true?"

If this news was true, they were in a terribly precarious situation. And Drake had the feeling that what he heard was all too real. It was a well-known fact among Commonwealth officers stationed here that the official information coming from the Federation side was far removed from reality.

The fact that this didn't surprise anyone was evidence of just how "warm" the alliance

between the Commonwealth and the Federation was. "That's a huge leak…"

"So you didn't know, right?"

"We were told there were elite units waiting in the eaves."

Unless Commonwealth Intelligence was purposely misinforming Drake, the conclusion was straightforward: Even if the intelligence being given to the Commonwealth wasn't a total fabrication, it was far from complete.

"They must be trying to look good for their ally. Or maybe it has something to do with safeguarding operational security, but… the party's instinct is to conceal its weaknesses."

"Geez. So what are things really like? Do you think a major spring counteroffensive is possible?"

Mikel furrowed his brow and finally squeezed out, "Honestly, I think it is." "You think the Federation will recover enough combat strength for that?"

"We're rebuilding to some extent, but more importantly… the leadership is going to unreasonable lengths to make it happen. I heard that only babes and the elderly are left on any border regions not facing the Empire."

"Which means that you should be building strength over the winter…"

But then was there any need or point in launching even a "limited" attack?

The lessons learned in battle had made it clear that unnecessary offensives not only tended to incur excessive casualties but also caused unexpected counterattacks.

"I don't know. It might be out of political necessity…" "…Hrrrm, that response is a bit problematic." "What?"

Drake felt bad for Mikel, who seemed confused, but he had a duty… This was something

he had to say. "We don't want to incur losses. And we have no obligation to go along with the Federation Army's recklessness."

"Oh, I see. I have just gained a much better understanding of your position, Lieutenant Colonel Drake."

Drake's homeland had given him wide-ranging authority. Naturally, he was allowed to refuse the Federation's requests if necessary.

He hesitated to go along with the ridiculous Federation Army and their stubbornness. As a soldier with people reporting to him, he had obligations—the sacred and inviolable duty of a commander.

"…I can't force you to come with us. Certainly, many questions remain, chief among them what the mission's purpose is."

"What about you guys?"

"If the party orders it, we have no way to object." Mikel's face as he laughed at himself for not having the right to refuse was valiant.

"No way to object?"

"Not for us. We never had a choice to begin with."

The words of this man whose family was still in the lageri were clear. It was probably due to a resolve so fierce that Drake could only imagine.

…But they chose to fight.

That meant that his brother-in-arms was going to battle.

"I understand that you and your unit won't join proactively. Although if I can ask you to assist in the most minimal way, I could prepare a mission for you to guard in the rear."

Which was why Mikel's remark was exceedingly unexpected.

With a heavy sigh, Drake tipped the mini bottle of his old friend scotch and drained the amber liquid.

What absurd restraint.

"…Colonel Mikel, don't be a stranger. Just a word and it'll be no problem." Mikel looked hard into his eyes.

He seemed to be lost for words, as if he didn't understand.

"We're soldiers. We should keep our words simple. It's headquarters and the political officers' jobs to quibble."

In short, Lieutenant Colonel Drake was a mage corps officer.

His mage unit consisted of a bunch of navy men who would rather fly into an enemy bullet than live as cowards. Anyone who would abandon their friends in a storm could go sink to the ocean floor.

"I've got an umbrella for rainy days. Just say the word." "Sorry, but please lend us a hand."

Drake's answer was a given.

He didn't care what the higher-ups would say. Any soldier would understand. He would head to battle for his friends.

There was no need for a complicated discussion. "Gladly."

-x-X-x-

CHRISTMAS EVE, UNIFIED YEAR 1926,

IMPERIAL ARMY'S FRONTLINE AREA IN THE EAST, SALAMANDER KAMPFGRUPPE'S GARRISON

"Salamander CP, this is Cherubim 01. Alert!"

"Cherubim 01, this is Salamander 01. What's the alert? Give me a sitrep."

"We've confirmed a Federation unit pushing into your area. Strength around two or three battalions. Additionally, we're picking up multiple signals that seem to be mage units. They're heading for the village in grid zone eighteen."

Tanya unconsciously furrows her brow at the report from the friendly mage reconnaissance unit as she stands up. If the map she pounded into her brain is correct, they've come quite far past the front warning line.

Is some terrible Santa invading? Damn Being X and his ilk!

"Salamander 01, roger. There's no mistake?" "Copy. All normal."

"Shit. They're too close. What are those bastards in the frontline patrol command doing?" "Please hold. They're… ski commandos. That's been confirmed."

The Cherubim unit is doing great work keeping watch while reporting.

Are they an exceptionally skilled unit? If I can expect some fight out of them… Harboring a faint wish, she says, "Thanks for the intel. What's your current mission?"

"We're on our way back from long-range reconnaissance."

Tch. Tanya suppresses the urge to suck her teeth.

If they're returning from recon, then getting their intel back to base is top priority. And if they ventured so far out, it must have been because headquarters specifically requested it. If she got in the way of that, it would do more than make a bad impression.

Unfortunately, we have to handle this on our own.

"Cherubim 01, the Salamander Kampfgruppe will sortie immediately. Relay the details to high command. And if there are any follow-ups, I'd appreciate it if you'd let us know as well."

"Roger, Salamander 01. Good luck out there."

When the line goes quiet with a bzzp, Tanya thinks for a moment. In any case, the recon

unit will probably report to high command. Theoretically, we can wait for the higher- ups to decide what to do… but if it's our area that's being hit, Tanya probably needs to attack and repel the enemy.

What a sigh-worthy moment.

"They're advancing in this weather? These Federation guys sure are an eccentric bunch."

Now, then… Tanya considers what arrangements need to be made, but… it's simple.

Luckily, she's just sent Major Weiss on one of the odd missions they've been conducting so often lately. That means there's already a fully armed company up in the air ready for a combat mission.

Additionally, there's a company in training on standby to deploy. In other words, the Cherubim's alert came at the perfect time.

"02, urgent from 01. I'm changing your mission. Change your destination immediately to grid zone eighteen."

"…What happened?" Weiss skillfully replies with a straightforward question, as expected. Tanya finds his wonderful lack of wasted effort satisfying.

"A friendly magic recon unit spotted a large Federation force crossing our lines. My guess is that they're on their way to raid the village over there."

What she has to tell him is very straightforward.

She informs him of his mission in the simplest terms possible.

"What we know is that there are two or three ski commando battalions plus an unknown number of mages. Aid the defense by stopping them ASAP." On top of that, she offers a clarification. "Support the friendly villagers. Drive the enemy off or buy time for an evacuation."

Weiss doesn't gasp or anything, but even he can't take these orders lightly. After a few moments of silence, he replies, distressed, "With all due respect, could you rethink this? Even if we only engaged in a delaying action, sending the troops into combat with noncombatants present is…"

"I can't say it's what I'd prefer, but we can't ignore them. If we forsake the Council for Self-Government's village, General von Zettour will murder us for letting the enemy profit."

Tanya's serious. Zettour has put a lot of work into this plan to divide the enemy.

If we can't guarantee safety for the local authority that we're allied with, we can't expect victory in the guerrilla war. The essence of security is reliability and trust. If we can't provide safety, no one will believe in us…

"To think this is happening right before Christmas, too. It's so… How should I put it…? This news really makes it hard to maintain good morale."

"Well, this is politics. It's a present from our dear General Staff, Major." "…Thank you very much for the splendid gift."

When everything is said and done, Weiss's reaction is appropriate for a soldier in the field. Military action for political ends often means committing foolishness at the request of unreasonable people.

I don't like the excuse of the holiday, but I understand that Tanya's subordinates are eager for a Christmas break. Who knows how things are for Communists, for whom Christmas is officially banned, but I'm sure that even the toughest members of the Salamander Kampfgruppe are looking forward to this time of year.

"I do have one piece of good news, though I don't know whether it'll satisfy you or not. It may be basic, but the area should be fortified—if the Council for Self-Government has been doing their job, that is…"

"Amateur fieldworks? I won't expect much."

Weiss's mind-set was the most prudent in this scenario.

Can a defensive position constructed by amateurs weather a Federation assault? If it had nothing to do with me, I would laugh it off as a sketchy gamble.

Sadly, Tanya is stuck between a rock and a hard place as a part of middle management. "I'm not saying to stick it out until you've been annihilated. I'm heading your way now

with the rest of the battalion."

How much better it would be if I could authorize them to pull back because it's an impossible task! Arghhh. Tanya shakes her head. No complaining. I have to at least get this work over with as quickly as possible.

The conclusion is simple. This needs to be done ASAP. And the enemy can't be ignored. This is what makes me hate everything. Any world where the mere three-word incantation "for political reasons" can thrust mages into heated battles is a place no better than garbage. It's proof that God doesn't exist.

If you have any doubt, just look at how the monster Being X is running amok. At any rate… Tanya shifts her priority to military matters and relays the necessary info.

"One other thing: There should be a communications officer out there. Make contact and have him evacuate. After that, you guys get out front and set up a mobile defense."

"Roger. Can I have the spare company?"

"Given their training progress, I'm having them stand by. The main force is headed your way."

"Understood. Then we'll head to the village now. Should we instruct them to burn everything?"

Tanya's response to the question is short and immediate. "No." "At the risk of being insistent, are you sure?"

Everyone is trying to figure out how to get through the deepening winter, and beds are hard to come by, so this fight is also over those warm places to sleep. If we leave buildings for the enemies, they're likely to use them.

It's easy to guess that Weiss will hold out, saying he wants to burn them down.

Which is why… Tanya's answer has been decided from the beginning. "Yes. 02, this is a political war."

"So you're posing as a hero saving the residents from the evil Federation?"

Tanya nods. See, you get it.

The political necessity of having to provide security won't allow us to forsake this town.

If we disgrace ourselves with Christmas right around the corner, we'll definitely have trouble later because of it.

But the only ones who would risk their lives for anyone but a clear ally… must be some kind of weirdos. Real soldiers despise that kind of romanticism.

If these were our own people… the members of the Salamander Kampfgruppe would devote themselves to defense without even asking for details, but Tanya can't deny that this is a different question.

"I'm warning you, I don't want to see you defending the village in name only. Give it your all. Reinforcements from the main unit are coming. I'm rushing over with the rest of the battalion."

"02, roger. We'll arrive ahead of the main forces and fight a delaying action."

Even when you're not feeling motivated, it's unacceptable to cut corners on your work. After giving Weiss a warning and entrusting him with the vanguard, Tanya prepares to move out herself.

First Lieutenant Serebryakov must have showed up while Tanya was on the wireless, because she's standing by right where she's needed, like always. Tanya shoots her a glance and says, "Lieutenant Serebryakov, raise the alarm for the Kampfgruppe and have everyone report to their alert positions."

"Yes, ma'am! Right away!"

Tanya has no issues with her adjutant's efficiency. Honestly, between her vice commander and her adjutant, this unit is just wonderful quality. Teamwork where each party does their job properly is exactly what this era requires.

"The rest of the 203rd Aerial Mage Battalion should prepare to sortie. We'll leave Lieutenant Wüstemann's replacement company behind as a spare to protect the base. Stay alert. I'll lead the battalion myself."

"Will command go to Captain Ahrens, then?"

Right… Tanya nods and adds further instructions. Maybe it's because she's comparing him to Captain Meybert, who is too cautious, but armored commanders like Ahrens tend to prefer excessively aggressive actions.

I don't want to sound like a broken record, but instructions have to be clear. Confusion caused by unclear directions is foolishness resulting from idiot bosses.

"Tell him to protect the base, and if there are no further instructions after seventy-two hours, he should report the situation to eastern headquarters and ask for further orders."

I'm reluctant to even consider the possibility of such a just-in-case scenario, of course. It's the difference between bad and worse, though; this is better than the captain acting like a fool who abandons everything if Tanya's rendered incommunicado or something.

I'm not a child. I won't run from the responsibility of the job that's been laid down— even if Tanya's pay is not commensurate. There's not much of a choice, since a contract has already been signed.

"Oh, and thank the Cherubim command. Tell them I'll treat them to a round of drinks as a thanks for the early warning."

Though my workload has just increased, it would be barking up the wrong tree to get angry at the bearers of the bad news. With the exception of whimsical weirdos who dream of becoming naked emperors, what you need when making decisions is accurate information. Those who provide that should receive commensurate praise.

With a comprehending nod, Serebryakov races off in her role as messenger—she gets it. Tanya is sure that she'll handle everything appropriately. At this rate, she'll mature into a fine high-ranking officer.

Now, then… , Tanya thinks after handing out all the necessary instructions. I expected an infiltration attack to come eventually. We're at war, after all. That much is bound to happen.

"Seriously, such hardworking Communists and nationalists alike can rot." Tanya grumbles this to herself but there's something I can't quite understand.

The cold is nature's fury. The Federation and the Empire have to face it equally. Even if the Federation Army is familiar with the winter in these parts, this isn't ideal hiking weather for anyone.

In short, it's not a good time to have troops on the move.

"A winter offensive doesn't seem sane. Is it recon-in-force? But I heard they don't even have enough forces to mount a counterattack…"

What crosses my mind is a guess calculating backward from a strategic objective. Recon-in-force would automatically imply a connection to a forthcoming operation.

Naturally, that implies the Federation has the forces necessary to launch a large-scale attack with what they learn from the recon.

But Tanya can't quite understand.

A major offensive doesn't make sense unless you have a lot of forces to commit to the battle. Is the Federation Army claiming they have that many ready?

"Has the Federation Army recovered more quickly than our intelligence suggested? Of all the…"

It's been only a month or two since the front stagnated.

Not even the Federation Army can escape the laws of physics. Despite having such a huge pool of manpower that you could describe it as soldiers growing on trees, they still require a minimum of training and gear.

Thinking logically, it's not possible for them to have enough strategic reserves to mount a general counterattack. If they did, they would have committed them to battle before their lines initially collapsed; otherwise, the Federation Army General Staff would have been letting a ton of soldiers just sit around twiddling their thumbs.

…That said, it's pointless to try to prove a hypothesis with mere deduction and shout that it must be XYZ.

Flatly ignoring assumptions for the moment, Tanya sorts out the issues plainly. The critical factor here is the enemy's intention.

"First, is this intended to be a recon-in-force or not?"

By asking myself that, I can start to make some sense of this mess. If this really was supposed to be the prelude to a major offensive, everything, including the wireless, would be bristling with energy. Tanya has participated in enough major offensives to recognize that special atmosphere the battlefield takes on when a large force is on the move.

She's confident that she wouldn't mess up that call.

"Which means a general offensive isn't happening at this time." She's sure of herself as she murmurs the assertion at the ceiling.

Plus, if it actually was a full-scale attack, HQ and frontline control would have been screaming for a while now. The fact that the canaries aren't singing means there's no need to second-guess her judgment.

"This is a limited offensive, then. It's valid to interpret their intention as recon-in-force." Hypotheses should be as simple as possible.

Regardless of the underlying purpose, she can't deny the possibility that the Federation Army has launched an attack to probe the imperial defensive lines. The key is their timing.

"…What made them think it was worth the risk?"

It's the same as her original question. Does the Federation have enough troops to perform recon-in-force? If not, they're throwing away human lives in vain. Even if it is the Federation, it's hard to imagine such utter wastefulness is permitted.

Of course, if they decide not to attack as a result of the recon, they can keep sacrifices to a minimum. If by the sacrifice of a few the many can be protected, every army would celebrate any kind of tragedies.

But it's still a waste.

Should I consider another possibility? Tanya thinks again. "Possibility one: a harassment attack."

The most likely alternative is that they're simply screwing with us.

It's a classic tactic, since it'll tire us out. The problem with that idea is that we've already confirmed that they've mobilized a force that's at least brigade strength.

That's too large a troop commitment for mere harassment.

And there's nothing to say that those are the only troops who crossed the border. Considering there could be troops lurking in strategic locations, we can't rule out the possibility of one or more detachments.

This is a half glass of water situation. Whether to be optimistic that we managed to keep half or lament that we have only half is up to Tanya.

The water that's gone isn't coming back.

In this case, the water is time and initiative. She can't afford to lose any more from her cup. I guess I have no choice… She hardens her resolve as she makes up her mind on how to respond.

Once she's determined her course, she has to follow through. The remaining units at base have deployed quickly in a swift and extremely orderly manner.

The main forces of the 203rd Aerial Mage Battalion are made up of two companies, which Tanya takes command of personally. Her troops get into assault formation and then speed toward the village.

Along the way, word comes in from Eastern Army Group HQ that Federation troops are crossing the border at various locations, but there is no change to the Salamander Kampfgruppe's mission. Phew. Tanya is sure now that she's made the right decision. If she put off scrambling till later, they would have been sortieing with their cup mostly empty.

"…So it really is recon-in-force?" I'm having a hard time believing it.

That said, it's dangerous to be distracted. Having a plentiful water supply is how the good ideas bubble up. For now, Tanya needs to do her duty—no choice but to think this over later.

"Lieutenant, any changes in enemy radio chatter?"

"None. The Federation Army only uses short-range encoded signals for comms between unit members, but they seem to be operating in total radio silence."

"…That's strange. Even though multiple units are crossing the border?"

Normally, when multiple units are trying to coordinate for an operation, long-range communications are essential. And of course, whoever's trying to intercept them naturally exploits the opening presented by those long-range transmissions by trying to pinpoint the location of the attackers.

The Salamander Kampfgruppe and headquarters are a good example. If the enemy can intercept the exchanges between the two, even if they can't understand any of the content, they can use the knowledge that "some unit" and "headquarters" are exchanging messages in their decision-making process.

"Yes, Colonel. Although the weather isn't the best for the radio waves… If we really can't pick up any long-range signals, they must be avoiding their use on purpose."

"They've put more thought into this than I expected." Wincing at her adjutant's response, Tanya has genuine praise for the enemy's craftiness.

Even a native speaker of the Federation language like Serebryakov can't interpret the enemy's encoded short-range transmissions at a glance.

"If they're not used to cooperating, they'll probably choose to operate individually." "I imagine so."

What a pain, Tanya grumbles in her head.

If multiple units are communicating, it's fairly easy to pinpoint their locations, but when the enemy isn't on the wireless, the situation could even develop into a series of accidental encounter battles.

Tanya's forces are on the way to meet up with Weiss and the others who are coming from another direction, but… it makes her nervous that they can't get a read on the enemy's movements.

Maybe it would be better to prioritize consolidating our forces, even if we lose a little time. Just as she starts thinking that…

"02 to 01, it's urgent. 02 to 01, it's urgent." Weiss's strained voice with a bit of static mixed in.

Tanya answers the moment she hears. "This is 01. The signal is clear. What is it?" "02 to 01. We've made enemy contact."

It's the encounter battle she was afraid of.

"We're engaged with a mage commando company that seems to be from the Commonwealth Army."

"01, roger." Unable to hold back, she snaps, "Shit."

A unit from the Commonwealth?

Mistaken identity happens often on the battlefield, but it's highly unlikely that Weiss would make that sort of error. Is the Commonwealth conducting a joint operation with the Federation?

"Everything is always too late. We don't have enough information to make informed decisions."

There could be Commonwealth reinforcements. "Have you notified the communications officer?"

"There's either jamming or his radio is broken. I can't connect."

Knowing it was pointless to ask, Tanya gets the answer she expects from her adjutant.

Unable to read the enemy's movements, she's forced to think about the unconfirmed enemy forces. It's suddenly uncertain whether the troops she has heading over are enough anymore.

Either way, the situation isn't good.

"Report to HQ. Give them an update."

Tanya gives the order like a conditioned reflex. Her shock is so great, she wants to grind her teeth, and she reviews their situation in her head.

As a commander, she can think only about how tricky their position has become.

Most likely, multiple enemy units are operating individually in this battle. Theoretically, if they're spread out and not supporting one another, that gives Tanya's troops a chance to pick them off one by one, but since there isn't a good way to locate them, that's only an armchair fantasy at the moment.

She still can't rule out her units getting pulled into a meeting engagement, and nerve- rackingly, they still don't have a clear idea of how large the enemy force is. To put it simply, you can just call it the fog of war, but that doesn't make it any better.

Relieving their allies in this mess will be hard.

"…It's painful that we can't tell them this is impossible for us."

If the Imperial Army leaves the Council for Self-Government high and dry here, it could trigger a negative chain of events. One wrong move and the council might even become treacherous. If they start to have doubts that the Empire is reliable, those guys could wind up running straight back into the arms of the Federation. The peace in the rear that Lieutenant General von Zettour had miraculously secured would be blown away, and the imperial supply lines would be subject to even greater risk than before.

"But… even if we did tell them we can't do it, with the way things are right now, there's no way we could go straight home."

Considering how pressing the situation is, the path forward is clear.

The current state of the war demands that the Empire make a gesture of not forsaking the Council for Self-Government. The Imperial Army General Staff's typical way of thinking under these sorts of circumstances is completely devoid of emotion.

Succeed or fail, the higher-ups will send in a relief unit.

Succeeding would be great. If we fail, it's the least I can do, but I'll shed some tears for the sacrifices we made in the name of mounting a rescue. That's the sort of creature a

General Staff officer is. If she wasn't the lamb in this scenario, Tanya would have had no qualms about sacrificing it.

Withdrawing isn't an option. It's such a twist, she wants to snap, We've swapped positions with the Federation Army!

"Hmm…? Twist?" Absentmindedly voicing her thought, she suddenly has an idea.

Something is different from usual. What is it?

Our positions have reversed.

"Wait, could it be that…?" It's only a possibility.

But… What comes to Tanya's mind is the mental state of the Federation troops currently on what is probably recon-in-force. They're having fun invading their enemy. They're probably plenty aware of when to quit.

No, they must be.

Considering their position, the principle behind their action is obvious. If they could run, they certainly would. I have to thank school for teaching me to make a habit of viewing things from the other people's perspective.

"…Climb! Up to eight thousand!"

So Tanya does away with any semblance of concealed movement. She immediately abandons the plan to approach the combat zone in NOE flight and climb afterward.

When her adjutant and the others all look at her questioningly, Tanya barks decisive orders.

"Mana signals at max output! We're going up! Climb!"

Are you sure? her adjutant asks with her eyes.

"Do it!" Tanya screams. "Listen," she continues, "we're going to drive the enemy mad with our overwhelming presence! Open the wireless channel, too! Public broadcast. Full power!"

"Wh-what?!"

"Tell the village that we, the Salamander Kampfgruppe of the Imperial Army, are coming and to wait for us. Do it in both the imperial and Federation language."

"I don't think it'll get through to the village, but…" "For now, it doesn't matter."

The point is to scream.

When posing for appearances, striking the pose itself has meaning.

Actually conveying the full content of the message can be relegated to secondary or tertiary importance.

"Are you sure?"

"The Council for Self-Government and the Federation Army will pick it up, right?" Tanya is confident.

There's no doubt the General Staff will call it a good decision.

The 203rd Aerial Mage Battalion will pretend to charge into a swarm of enemies.

Even if we don't make it in time, showing that we were on our way is better than nothing.

"The enemy might prepare to intercept us…"

"That's fine. That'll take some pressure off the village. It's not a bad thing to imply that reinforcements are on the way."

Once we make our presence known, the Federation units might voluntarily come over to us. If that happens, we'll get caught up in a meeting engagement and use that as the

excuse for not making it in time to stage a rescue. There's practically no problem with this.

As long as we can avoid casualties…

"I expect the Federation mages are chickens. Let's teach those cravens a lesson! Battalion, blast your assault signals at max power! Follow me!"

-x-X-x-

THE SAME DAY,

THE MULTINATIONAL UNIT

The waves broadcast over a wide range were at an output great enough to shock Lieutenant Colonel Drake.

An assault signal plus a charging advance that completely gave away their position. Picking up the mana signals, he could tell they were Named mages even if he didn't want to.

He still remembered those distinctive waveforms from the Rhine front. It was impossible to mistake them.

She—they—were coming.

The Devil of the Rhine and her evil band. "C-Colonel Drake!"

"I know!"

This is bad. The moment he sensed it, Drake turned straight around to race over toward Lieutenant Colonel Mikel and the main forces.

"Colonel Mikel, that battalion of Named is here!" "We've picked up the signals! What's the situation?!"

"One company has already looped around to cut off our escape and is currently engaged with our defensive unit stationed there. The strength discrepancy is huge— the most our lone company can manage against them is to buy time with a delaying action."

"…Shit! This is the worst-case scenario!" It made sense that Mikel would curse with a glare at the sky in the direction the imperials were probably coming from.

According to the Federation General Staff's predictions, the Imperial Army would be rather late making its first move. They had practically guaranteed there would be plenty of time to secure the village and set up a defensive position.

But reality was less accommodating.

The Imperial Army's response was far too fast. "Have we taken the village?"

"…It's not going too well. We haven't managed to punch through yet."

"It's just a village! Of all the—!" Drake was screaming without realizing. The infantry and mage units together can't even capture one village?!

"It's been turned into a stronghold with a secure perimeter!" "That can't be. We're not attacking some military base!"

It was hard to believe such news that came without warning.

As far as Drake knew, village was a term for a residential area, not a strongpoint fortified for combat. He didn't understand why it would be so heavily defended.

"You can't get through even with mage firepower?"

"We already tried twice. Even penetration formulas designed to destroy armor aren't effective. It's a primitive fortification mostly consisting of sandbags, but… we should have brought heavy artillery."

This was what it meant to be dumbfounded. We chose a random village, but it just happens to have defenses so great, we need heavy artillery to capture it?

"…I never imagined they would be this prepared."

He was a marine mage who knew only counterinsurgency battles and putting down revolts in the colonies.

Astonished, he grumbled almost unconsciously. "I can't believe it… You're telling me the people who live here built up these fieldworks?"

It would be more realistic if he had been told that the enemy had broken their codes and there was a mole in the upper echelons.

But his doubt was swept away by the man standing next to him. "…I think it's possible."

"Colonel Mikel…"

"To these villagers, we Federation soldiers are none other than the army of the 'beloved' Communist Party. I imagine the guys facing us today have probably faced a great deal of unreasonable demands time and time again," Mikel bitterly spat. "That would explain why they're so fiercely antagonistic."

Mikel was a patriot, but you couldn't exactly call him a Communist Party lapdog. Still, he was hounded by the fallout of his owner's deeds nonetheless.

What a contradiction.

They all hated the party from the bottom of their hearts, yet they were stuck fighting on opposite sides. It was awful that they couldn't understand each other.

For now, there's nothing we can do. Drake shook his head.

Talking took time. For armies at war, time was a resource far too precious.

Just because they had to perform reconnaissance-in-force didn't mean they were obligated to become martyrs. As the ones who had secured an escape route and nervously pushed into enemy territory… they couldn't wait to leave.

As far as Drake was concerned, he wanted to turn around the moment they had achieved something noteworthy. He had made a secret agreement with Mikel—that if

need be, they would consider withdrawing by having Drake be "unreasonable…" "…We need to achieve something."

"That's surely what Moskva wants."

But they couldn't leave without bringing anything back. There was Mikel's position to consider. Sadly, if they failed, Drake's esteemed friend would be left in the ever- merciful party's hands.

"Then shall we put some icing on the cake of this Commonwealth and Federation joint operation? We've got to win, even if only in name."

"We sure do." It happened just as Mikel nodded with a wry grin.

Right as an infantry unit approached a cowshed that had been converted into a pillbox, the pair of officers witnessed them get blown up by a bomb that must have been hidden in the gutter.

On top of that, sniper fire began, and the shooter seemed zeroed in.

"Ah, fuck. This is rubbish!" Drake griped. The scene unfolding before his eyes was horrific.

Before the survivors fell one after the other, Federation mages hurled a hail of smoke grenades while keeping their defensive shells at the ready, but the other side's fire never stopped.

Drake may not have understood Federation language, but the shouts and screams filling the air were common among all nations. Even as someone proud to have made it through some terrible battlefields, this one gave him the urge to fling every curse he could think of at God.

The Federation Army couldn't go down without a fight. The mages hurled formulas at the pillbox, and under that cover fire, the foot soldiers approached and silenced it with explosives.

This was what neutralizing pillboxes one by one was like. But the casualties were adding up.

They put up a smoke screen to recover the few injured, and while the Federation unit regrouped, the commander raised his voice into a megaphone. "We're here to purge the armed guerrillas! If you turn them over, we'll guarantee the village's safety!"

"Surrender!" "No!"

The reply was the definition of fierce. The Communist Party must have really wronged these people.

"…So that's how it goes if it's the Federation Army?" Drake remarked, grabbing the interpreter standing by next to him.

He didn't have time, but he converted his point into Federation language, and when he figured his awful pronunciation was good enough to be understood, he shifted into action.

"Colonel Mikel, let us handle this." "What?"

As Mikel was readying to mount another attack, Drake returned to his side and stated his business plainly.

He knew that obtaining Mikel's approval here would probably be bad for his position in the Federation Army. Instead, he would have to frame it in a way that made it seem like he acted mostly at his own discretion. Drake began shouting in clumsy Federation language, "This is the Commonwealth Army! Surrender to us! As His Majesty's soldiers, we will treat you in accordance with international law!"

What? For a moment, it was silent.

Drake braced himself and went out where the villagers, who had been flatly refusing to surrender, could see his uniform.

Even a mage could die if they were shot through their defensive shell, but a marine mage with no vanity or insanity was like a human with no soul.

"If you refuse, we'll have the Federation Army charge right into the village!"

Having said that much in Federation language, Drake was sure his words were having an effect. The proof was how the cacophony of shooting had stopped.

Most importantly, Drake himself hadn't been shot despite stepping out of cover. Step one was cleared.

Drake had figured the next thing would be to drag the frightened interpreter over and begin negotiations, but his expectations were betrayed in a good way.

"A-are you really Commonwealth Army?!" It was his native language.

"Can't you even tell the difference between our uniforms?!" Drake shouted back but raised his evaluation of the village. He never thought a Federation national out in the sticks would be able to speak official Commonwealth language so fluently.

"Give us proof that you're not from the Federation!"

"I'm proud to declare it! You think I'm such a moron that I'd mistake my own army?!" "Shaddup!"

To think that I'd be having a shouting match in my native language out here. You never know what life has in store. But he welcomed the fact that this would make things easier.

"Surrender! If you turn over the combatants, we guarantee the noncombatants will stay safe. I swear on our flag!"

Did they understand the implication? Please let them get the message, please…

Drake prayed to God.

Luckily… his prayer was heard. "…We're coming out now."

"Okay, hand over the combatants."

The response that squeezed out was the one he had hoped for. They could work out a compromise.

…Although it was the weakest possible compromise. "Hold your fire! Don't do anything stupid!"

Having Mikel there roaring to prevent an explosion was reassuring. They were in trouble if luck abandoned them now.

It was no wonder it felt like such a long time.

"Throw down your weapons and come out with your hands in the air!" "Shit."

A rifle was tossed onto the snow.

One, two, and as they piled up, ten men formed a line, facing Drake with their hands in the air.

He daringly walked right toward them and yelled for effect. "Tie them up! Bundle them for the air travel to the port! We'll send them to the homeland as prisoners! Do not, under any circumstances, do anything careless like letting them freeze to death!" Everything after what he had initially stated was purely to put the prisoners at ease. It also functioned as a stern warning to the Federation Army, who were no doubt hostile toward them.

It took time and effort, yes, but it was a necessary procedure.

While the Commonwealth Army secured the prisoners, Drake sighed like a weight had been taken off his shoulders.

In reality, they probably hadn't succeeded in disarming the village. He'd demanded they turn over combatants, so the village had simply offered some adult men. If they tried to take control of the place wholesale, there would no doubt be a counterattack.

"Nice work, Colonel Drake. You managed to take prisoners and, in theory, subdue the village. That's successful enough. Let's get out of here."

"What'll happen to you? Why don't we play around a little more?"

"I appreciate your consideration, but there's no need. Under the circumstances, all we can do now is withdraw."

Drake put his hand to his ear. I don't understand what you're saying.

"What are you—?" Mikel nearly raised his voice, but when Drake pointed at the political officer who had appeared in the distance, he understood and nodded.

Using the excuse of the language barrier, they would involve the political officer in the decision to withdraw. That was the little farce Drake had penned.

"I should have her interpret?"

"Sure… a little slapstick comedy now and then can be enjoyable."

"If this script works, how about becoming a playwright, Colonel Drake? I'll write you a letter of recommendation to Londinium's most venerable theater."

"Ha-ha-ha! Please do."

Having understood what they were up to now, Mikel called the political officer over in Federation language.

Of course, circumstances were such that it was possible to consider their mission accomplished. It went without saying that even a half-baked soldier like the political officer would be able to tell that withdrawing was the most prudent thing to do— which was why some cheap acting could get them results.

Drake couldn't understand the storm of Federation language Mikel was speaking to her, but he could guess what they were talking about.

That was only natural, as it was he who had written the script.

"…You're going to keep fighting, Colonel Mikel?" When he asked a question pretending he had read the vibes, the political officer nodded at him, puzzled.

"Sorry, Colonel Drake. Could you wait a little while?" She apologized and then began discussing something with Mikel. It felt pretty good to have an idea, just for the moment,

of what they were saying even though they were speaking in a foreign language.

Most likely, the political officer is kindly persuading or perhaps admonishing stubborn Colonel Mikel into withdrawing.

Contrary to his actual feelings, Mikel would appear reluctant and Drake, who had involved the political officer, would suggest withdrawing.

Considering what a simplified outline Drake had come up with, it was laughable, but when thinking of ways he could appeal to the higher-ups in the Federation Army, it was a necessary step. That said, he couldn't take it easy. It wouldn't do to put on a clumsy show for their guests from the Empire and their refined tastes.

The imperial mage unit rushing this way was probably going to be a handful. The unit securing the escape route was currently engaged with a superior enemy, so they needed to hurry.

"Excuse me, but maybe I should prep the prisoners to be sent to the rear?"

"Yes, I suppose that must be done. I'll explain things to Colonel Mikel. Please make the arrangements."

"I appreciate your consideration."

The moment he got permission from the political officer, Drake made a brisk return to his unit to set about getting the prisoners on their way.

Escorting ten adult men to the rear effectively meant that a mage company would be leaving the battle lines. A mage unit would be able to withdraw fine on its own, but with infantry along, he couldn't give up on support.

Well, let's see… Drake unhesitatingly chose the optimal—the most useless—unit for the job. "Lieutenant Sue. Prepare to take the prisoners to the rear."

"Take the prisoners to the rear, sir?"

"That's right. It's your responsibility to escort the prisoners who surrendered to us. Once the RMS Queen of Anjou's repairs are complete, they can catch a ride to the homeland."

Having entrusted the transport of the prisoners to the least helpful lieutenant's company, Drake was already thinking about how they would withdraw.

The incoming enemy was a relief unit.

In other words, its objective was to defend and relieve this village.

He wanted to believe that meant they wouldn't give chase, but unfortunately, he couldn't cling to such wishful thinking.

Just as he was thinking that he would like to prioritize the infantry's withdrawal, it happened. The Federation infantry picked up the skis they had taken off and began departing from the village.

Finally.

The face of the political officer as she approached him even looked relieved. "Did Colonel Mikel agree?!"

"Yes, Lieutenant Colonel! Comrade Colonel has given the order to withdraw!" "Very good!"

Okay! As Drake was about to dash off, he noticed the political officer seemed to want to say something.

"They'll go on trial in your country?"

"They did fire on us, after all. We'll be sure to give them a rough time." He plastered a grin of fake satisfaction on his face and assured her they would be punished. Honestly, what the prisoners deserved most was sympathy, so he planned to show them a truly awful time involving wine, scotch, and cigarettes.

"I hope you'll be considerate…" "Oh?"

"They're citizens of our country… even under these unfortunate circumstances…"

The surprise was palpable.

Drake was biased. He thought Communist Party dogs were a bunch of sadists. It was a natural assumption for him that they would want the prisoners to be punished.

"I implore you as but one political officer. I wish I had more to offer besides words, but I hope you'll be considerate in your treatment of them."

She had enough self-restraint to not be a nuisance when the bullets were flying, but Drake couldn't get over the habit she had of showing up only once the fighting was over.

And on top of that, she talks in platitudes without batting an eye! Drake found her sensibilities difficult to fathom.

"The highest penalty in our military courts for a gang of ne'er-do-wells is death by firing squad… I'm afraid I don't know what will happen to them."

"C-Colonel Drake?!"

"Lieutenant, do you need anything else?"

If you're not having issues, then get going already. He gestured with his jaw to shoo away the source of his irritation.

"…It sounds harsh, but if laws aren't enforced, they become nothing more than hollow words. Isn't that right?"

With a final "I'm off, then," Drake rushed away. It barely needed to be stated, but in war, the most difficult operation was fighting withdrawals.

As a commander, he still had a lot to do.

Flying up and looking down at the village, she saw they were still within hailing distance. For a moment, her mind focused only on the thought of defending the withdrawal of their comrades during a retreat, the ambition of every mage.

Mary couldn't take orders like sending troops to the rear and securing an escape route

lightly.

But she still felt sad.

"Enemy forces are on the way! Pull out! Pull out!" A stern voice shouted the order to withdraw.

"Will we need a blocking unit to slow them down?!"

"The enemy vanguard seems to be mages from a quick response team. With those numbers, they won't chase us past the defensive line!"

Mary thought it was obnoxious how the commander was reassuring everyone that they didn't have to worry about intense pursuit.

As the shouts of "We're heading out!" echoed, Mary knew she had to withdraw, too. She didn't want to run away.

If it were possible, she would have rather intercepted the enemy unit and given the Imperial Army—no, the Devil of the Rhine—a good scare.

"…But I can't yet."

She was aware how strong her opponent was.

She knew she had to avoid giving in until the time when her attack could make it count. But someday…

In the near future, she would definitely… "We're taking it back… We'll show them." I still can't reach.

I'm still not up to the task. I'm still not ready.

It's a laundry list of things I can't do yet.

"But I won't give up." The enemy of my father. The enemy of us all.

…We have to come back.

"For now—and only for now—I'll leave."

As she murmured, Mary noticed the shouts to fall back were growing sparser.

I need to hurry.

Everyone was probably almost ready to depart.

Though it pained her, and her heart demanded that she remain and fight to the last man… she had to endure.

Delivering prisoners to the rear was an important mission. If she hesitated any longer, she would cause trouble for not only herself but everyone else, too.

-x-X-x-

[Image]

-x-X-x-

So she swore an oath.

She looked down, turning around just once, and swore. "I—we—shall…"

She kept losing.

She hadn't been ready this time, either. But someday…

Eventually…

"…I shall return."

Viewing the fight that day objectively in hindsight, it could be said that the Empire, Federation, and Commonwealth all achieved their objectives. In a rare occurrence, every party could boast that they had been victorious.

The Imperial Army, in plain terms, had won a crushing tactical victory.

Its frontline units pulled off daring counterattacks against the Federation's limited offensive. They successfully fought off their opponents and even received support from the paramilitary forces of the Council for Self-Government while also barely suffering any losses in the process.

In addition, it should be noted that due to the imperial gesture of offering support to both the council and civilians, the cooperation between the Empire and the Council for Self-Government developed into what could properly be described as an alliance in both name and reality.

As a result, the Imperial Army's success, which included organizing a powerful unit and pushing back the enemy line in places, allowed the Empire to proudly declare a military victory.

Meanwhile, the Federation Army endured losses that were large but still within the realm of the permissible and had acquired the strategic intelligence it had so

desperately wanted.

Military staff confronted the party leadership with the facts that the speculated relationship between the Empire and the Council for Self-Government was stimulating an independence movement and that the strikingly rampant appearances of separatists were more serious than anyone had imagined.

On this point it was said that a cheer went up in the Federation Army General Staff because they could finally feed the bitter medicine of reality to the politburo.

The reality of the battlefield had shattered the lens of ideology.

It was noteworthy that by managing to confront the party leadership with the military reality without suffering a critical defeat, the Federation Army and Commissariat for Internal Affairs achieved—at least domestically—a major strategic victory.

And in the end, expeditionary mages dispatched from the Commonwealth were able to achieve modest results in the battle. Effectively nothing more than a few prisoners and a smattering of military successes.

That said, the political convenience of the victory couldn't be overstated.

Victory was accompanied by commendation, and the efforts of Lieutenant Colonel Drake and his marine mages were highly praised by all.

But of course, that became clear only after the fact.

-x-X-x-

CONTEMPORARY MOSKVA

At the time, many in the Federation clamored that the latest battle was "a disaster," and very few would have mocked those critics as idiots who understand nothing.

As one of those few exceptions, Commissar Loria of the Commissariat for Internal Affairs could describe the ignorance of the people around him only as perfect nonsense. For that reason, he was in an awful mood.

"From a purely military perspective, the recon-in-force was a major failure. One of the gravest issues facing our army in small-scale combat is our tactical inferiority, and it

must be addressed."

This statement was a response to the criticism, Didn't we lose by agreeing to your plan?

There was nothing that irritated him more than being snapped at by people who couldn't comprehend simple, clear results, but his voice was terribly calm.

"…Still, the political problem we're facing is more important. The fact that we've grasped its scope now justifies the cost of the last battle."

Loria reemphasized that the entire reason they deployed the soldiers in the first place was to get a handle on the political situation.

He asked for understanding from the secretariat, the politburo, and every other government organ time and again to the point of insistence that the operation was for getting a handle on the political situation. During this struggle, the General Staff eagerly supported his efforts and they carried out a joint plan to convince everyone.

If, after all that, there were still fools trying to score a victory in internal politics, thinking that now was their chance to strike at Loria and the military leadership… Loria felt that perhaps the only option he had left was to ready some holes for them.

Nonetheless, he earnestly delivered his counterclaim without flinching, at least on the outside.

Fishing required patience—because just like love, it was about tactics.

On this point, Loria knew that waiting patiently would bring him the greatest success. He learned that while bargaining for love with a fairy.

"And what is that political matter that we must focus on? It's simple. Comrades, the Empire's promise of independence is becoming a potent poison for the Federation."

Those words were casually left to hang in the meeting room, but they bore an incredibly grave significance.

The wise ones who understood nodded silently, while the clueless who assumed Loria was simply trying to draw attention away from his failure found it difficult to hide their smirks.

It was easy to discern the mocking atmosphere.

Ahhh, your level of intelligence really shows on your face… , thought Loria, fighting the urge to grimace…

"The dream of ethnic self-determination the imperials are lauding has taken effect… We have no choice but to conclude that the relationship between the separatists and the Imperial Army is stronger than we imagined."

…But Loria still had to carry on with his report, because that was his job.

The counterattack the Federation Army encountered was more tenacious than expected. The armed groups vaguely referred to as "local people" put up a fierce level of resistance that most assumed would normally be reserved for invaders.

Summing up the reports of their embedded observers made the situation all too clear. Even near the front lines, trust in the Federation Army was depressingly low. Hostility against their soldiers was widespread.

"As you all know already, the Imperial Army seems to have regained their freedom of movement, but we've discovered even worse news."

They had already known that separatist ethnic minority groups were keeping the peace in the occupied territories. But their latest revelation was more shocking.

What shook the core of the Federation's Communist Party was the fact that the Imperial Army had built such a trusting relationship with the separatists that it trusted them to handle peacekeeping duties.

The defeat the Federation had suffered at the very beginning of the war had been alarming. Allowing the Imperial Army to engage in the mobile warfare they favored so much would be a nightmare. Now that the Empire didn't have to worry about pacifying a massive swath of territory, wouldn't that free up their forces to do just that? And they wouldn't even have to worry about partisans harassing them, either?

If this wasn't a terrifying prospect, then what was?

"The political officers are being vague, so we don't have the full picture, but… ," Loria said, laying down words that chilled the entire room, "…we have apparently witnessed cases where the Imperial Army and regional separatists have created a united front."

A united front—in other words, fighting together side by side. But the meaning wasn't as simple as the words might imply.

Trust and confidence were weighty things indeed. Anyone living through this tumultuous period would never mistake the significance of them.

It wouldn't be possible for a united front to exist without the soldiers involved having supreme confidence in allowing armed, combat-experienced foreigners to fight by their side on the battlefield. Their actions declared loudly how deeply that trust ran.

"…We should probably be happy we've grasped the true enemy situation. Now we can be sure that we shouldn't expect much cooperation from our comrades in the occupied territories."

"May I ask a question? As far as I can tell, comrade, you seem to be saying that the separatists have defeated the party. To be frank, can't we root them out from the shadows?"

In terms of following party doctrine, that was a fine suggestion, thought Loria with an inward wince.

Unfortunately, that sort of textbook answer has no meaning when held up against the reality of the battlefield. It made him exceedingly miserable to see people forgetting that the real world required compromise.

But the Federation ideology wasn't so vulnerable that it couldn't survive direct confrontation. Which was why Loria nodded dramatically. "To get straight to the point, I don't think it's impossible. Listen," he said in an utterly calm voice. "If we have proper support, have the appropriate personnel committed, and have a solid commander in charge, there should be no problem. In other words, we can say that it shall be humans who blaze the trail to the future." Then Loria suddenly said, "Oh," as if he remembered something, and presented an invitation. "How about it, comrade? It'd be great if you would drive this home for the masses."

"M-me, comrade?"

"The reports from the field are confused. I need someone I can trust reporting in. If you feel strongly about this issue, I'd like to ask you to do it." Using the threat of possibly sending someone into the field, Loria smiled kindly.

He found a great deal of satisfaction in smacking down this guy who fancied himself enough of a bystander that he could comment about whatever he liked on the fierce guerrilla war.

"Wait a minute, Comrade Loria."

Sadly, games always ended just as they were getting fun.

"Do you mean to say that the flow of intelligence is unstable? That even the Commissariat for Internal Affairs's intelligence network is being suppressed?"

There was only one person whom Loria needed to immediately straighten up for. "Yes, Comrade General Secretary. It's as you say," he affirmed instantaneously.

"…I'm well aware that those reactionaries, the separatists, despise us." The speaker inquired in an unexpectedly intellectual-sounding tone, "But why to this extent?"

He was asking why the Communist Party was hated.

That's a difficult question to answer head-on, from a political perspective. Loria mentally grimaced.

"Yes, it's truly as you say. I'm fairly certain we've made plenty of concessions on racial policy. Why are they so welcoming to the invaders?"

"Could it be that the capitalist and imperialist propaganda is that effective?"

It was laughable how the blind followers seemed unsure even as they agreed. If they didn't understand the reason, they were truly useless.

Well, it was worth considering that the General Secretary had probably come down on them too hard for inconvenient reports in the past.

Well, whatever. Loria switched gears.

If they wanted to know, he would just have to tell them.

Holding back a wry grin, he held up a hand and said, "If I may add something…" before solemnly intoning, "nationalism isn't logical."

Loria was familiar with the role emotions played as someone who often took advantage of them himself. When emotions were involved, it wasn't logic or realism that mattered but romanticism—romanticism was everything.

They couldn't afford to laugh it off as mere fiction anymore.

The official Communist position that ethnicity was a distraction was nothing but empty words in the face of various ethnic groups' dreams of independence.

"Comrade Loria?"

"Aren't we making use of it all the time?"

A shared cause, protecting the people—in other words, nationalism.

It was due to that sympathy that the Federation Army could use those who were once sent to the lageri2 as soldiers despite their lack of conviction.

"Make the cause ethnicity, wave the banner of ethnicity, sing the songs of ethnicity in the ethnicity's language; it's all utterly commonplace, but the results are tremendous."

To Loria, who had promoted such movements before, the potential was astounding.

The troops who had been sourced from the lageri, those who were expected to betray the Federation Army at the first opportunity, actually had a startlingly low defection ratio and fought hard.

To be honest, they were fine patriots.

These soldiers took up arms to protect their motherland as their patriotic hearts demanded! It wasn't rare for former lageri residents to swear loyalty to the Federation Communist Party, even if only as a formality.

"Let me share a report from the front lines. 'If the soldiers are fighting for the motherland, no one hesitates to raise their weapons and protect what all soldiers should.'"

There was no need to micromanage their every move.

They loved their motherland, their country, or their hometown—whichever it was, the

emotion at the heart of that was powerful. Because it was an emotion, it didn't accept logic. It couldn't be reasoned with; whether they could sympathize or not was everything.

On that point, unfortunately, the Communist Party was incredibly lacking.

What it had managed to do was present an ideal. It was an appealing ideal and wasn't bad for promotional material. It was especially effective against fools who mistakenly thought themselves clever.

But that served only as surface-level motivation.

"…In other words, the Federation troops freed from the lageri are fighting for the country, not the party?"

"That's exactly right." Loria gave an instantaneous reply to the party official's question. It was undeniable reality.

As far as Loria knew, the number of people who fought out of love for the Communist Party was greater than zero. The party had improved people's lives in certain ways, without a doubt.

At the same time, there were probably a similar or even greater number of people who wholeheartedly despised the party.

The number of the party's victims hadn't been erased from official records, but that was because they couldn't very well erase all their relatives, too.

"Hmm, so that's good news."

"Yes, Comrade General Secretary."

"This is terribly disrespectful to bring up to you two, but… these are people with no party loyalty! How is that good news?"

"No, no," Loria interrupted with a smile. "Comrade, think about it in a different way." Loyalty was a multilayered concept.

It wasn't a contradiction for people disloyal to the party to love the Federation, their motherland. Anyone who agreed that the Empire was their common enemy and wouldn't rebel against party instructions could be viewed as a reliable human resource.

Even elements that were normally sources of unrest would surely fight to protect their nation from the Empire.

"We'll have our enemy and our latent enemy crush each other. Don't you think it's more effective to have them fight on the battlefield for the sake of glory and mythology than to work them in the lageri?"

It was elementary logic. A cold, hard principle.

But it was also an eternal truth.

"Our role is crystal clear. All we have to do is act as the guardians of nationalism. To that end, we simply need to make the party and the nation one and the same."

Wasn't that what it said in a cynic's dictionary?

Patriots were the prey of conquerors and politicians. Patriotism was the first resort of villains.

-x-X-x-