CHAPTER - IV

MAY 5, UNIFIED YEAR 1927,

THE KINGDOM OF ILDOA, GENERAL GASSMAN'S OFFICE

A messenger, for better or worse, is tasked with accurately conveying the sender's intentions. To put it another way, being a messenger requires the resourcefulness to deliver the words as stated, unaltered. When an officer performs a messenger mission, it's something different.

Colonel von Lergen was in the awkward position of realizing that he hadn't fully understood that until just now.

No matter what he thought, he was in the position of making the facial expressions the home country intended, speaking in the voice the home country demanded, and saying the words the home country wished him to say.

The job could hardly be summed up as merely talking. General Gassman had his usual cheery, affable smile plastered on his face, but Lergen got straight to the point.

"Regarding the matter you proposed earlier, there's been a reply from the home country."

"And what was it, Colonel von Lergen?"

Facing the general, who had straightened up, Lergen took a deep breath. Let's admit it. To say what he was about to say, as a colonel to a general, took no small measure of resolve. So he braced himself and spoke with extreme seriousness. "I shall now relay the message from the home country. All right?"

He paused to take a breath. "Eat shit. That is all."

Doing the work to achieve a cease-fire and peace—that is, to end the war—required a show-no-weakness, take-no-prisoners attitude, bizarrely enough.

"Oh? That's the reply from your home country?"

"To put it plainly, it was nothing more or less than that."

If he'd had a mirror, he probably would have seen a conceited imperial soldier in it. Lergen knew his face didn't appear threatening. That's why he forced its stiff muscles into an expression approaching overconfidence.

…Considering how long he had spent practicing in front of a mirror at the embassy, he wanted to believe he was pulling it off. If he wasn't, he was nothing but a clown.

"In response to the Federation Army's nonsense about repelling us with force, the home country has invoked Operation Iron Hammer. Based on an existing policy, they're currently refusing Communist ideas with guns and powder, as if it was their most cherished dream to do so."

"That's quite a militaristic way to put it."

Gassman, shrugging, must have realized how far backward Lergen was bending over. Up against a soldier-politician with a long career in military administration, Lergen came off as having secondhand experience no matter how he tried to play it. It was only natural that a green, mid-ranking officer would be scoffed at by a cunning general.

"I hope you'll excuse me. But, sir, the Federation's pronouncements are equally high- handed. I'd appreciate it if you could overlook it."

Lergen had already accepted that his role was that of the clown. "Do you know the first thing about negotiation?"

"Of course I do."

He had known ahead of time that he would be snorted at and glared at.

From the moment they met, it had been implied that the Empire and Kingdom of Ildoa would clash, with the former seeking a settlement in its favor and the latter saying, Quit being so demanding.

"I was concerned you had forgotten. I do hope there is still a role for Ildoa to play. Very well. For now, can we review the Empire's terms?"

"Yes, of course." Lergen nodded respectfully, but contrary to that attitude, he had been dispatched with strict orders to not budge. As long as that was the case, it would probably look like superficial politeness to the general.

…And it would only be a matter of time until it was obvious that he was acting that way on purpose.

"Let's set aside the demands for reparations and a disarmed region for a moment. Would you be willing to alter your demands for the cession of key strategic points and the citizen votes in occupied territories?"

"The home country notified me that, if necessary, we can accept that occupied territories would become neutral, although that's assuming that the treaty guarantees they're established as self-governing regions."

"Colonel von Lergen, to be blunt… we want you to rethink the voting and the fixing of the divisions."

"We can't do that."

Gassman didn't even try to hide the bitter look on his face when Lergen refused so flatly. Perhaps that was only natural, as the Ildoan side surely had an idea of what they were up against even during the preliminary negotiation stage.

But Lergen truly couldn't yield in this instance.

"No wiggle room at all? Really? If you could cede us some ground on this point… Ildoa could arrange things with the Federation almost immediately."

"General, I'm overwhelmed that you would speak so courteously with a mere colonel, but even so, I must decline. I hope you're able to forgive me."

"I would hope that you could understand the good intentions of your ally." "We simply shan't be taking advantage of them."

"…Let's speak heart-to-heart as soldiers. Where's the middle ground? How can we

settle this? I want to know the limits of your demands. Could you tell me?"

"Frankly, we want reparations. We're also hungry for territory. But let's get to the essential: The Empire wants peace of mind."

"Peace of mind?"

"We want the guarantee of safety—that we won't be attacked again."

Strategic sneak attacks and being surrounded were the reality of the Empire's geopolitical circumstances. But both of those things had become traumatic for them.

There were times the Empire felt anxiety and even fear. The Imperial Army General Staff wanted to be liberated from that terror no matter what it took.

…Peace had to mean the end of fear.

"Conversely, if all the other terms are met, the General Staff will accept with or without reparations and with or without territorial cessions."

"…The complete security of the Empire's strategic environment?"

It was clear to Lergen that Gassman was about to say, There's no way. And yes, it was easier said than done. And it wasn't only the dilemma of guaranteeing complete security but the fact that just because one person was able to sleep peacefully under ideal terms didn't mean their neighbor could as well.

The secure strategic environment the Empire so wished for was, on the other hand, too advantageous. Let's face it: It was a hurdle too high for the other countries. Even the General Staff would admit that.

…But public opinion in the Empire thought differently. The public felt that security was the minimum. Anything less, and the imperial public wouldn't accept.

"Hence why I'm presenting this request."

"It's too much. Are you saying you think it's realistic?"

"The Empire has already dealt with the west, handled the north, and cleaned up the south. The only threat remaining is in the east. Under the circumstances, it seems like

a minimal ask. Why do you think it's too much?"

The reason he continued to emphasize that this was a line that couldn't be crossed was simple. If the terms were like any cease-fire that finished after ten years or so, they were afraid they might end up in another idiotic war.

What the Empire needed was a final and eternal framework for peace. That was why Lergen had to stubbornly, uncompromisingly maintain the position that they would not yield.

"Colonel von Lergen, get a grip and be reasonable. As your ally, Ildoa feels compelled to warn you."

"You needn't worry."

"Oh? Even though your army is under pressure from the Federation's?"

"…With all due respect, the Imperial Army is fighting on enemy territory, not our own. I believe you can comprehend, then, who is ahead?"

Though he knew he was just playing with words, he had to employ some bravado and say they weren't losing. He had heard once that diplomacy sometimes required an honest liar, but now it hit him what a realistic complaint it was.

"Have you ever heard of logistics, Colonel? I'm sure even the Empire can't advance forever. Considering the rate of attrition in the east, I suggest out of the kindness of my heart that you prioritize an early settlement."

"From one perspective, you may be right… but we know we're one step away from victory."

"That's great if true. Colonel, I'll tell you this… Where that last step will take you may not be the world you hope for."

Lergen knew he was being told that hope had remained at the bottom of Pandora's box. But who peeked in and checked anyhow? You don't know if the cat is alive or dead until you look, right?

"Maybe not. But," Lergen continued with a wan smile, "we've sown our seeds—the seeds to solve the problems on the eastern front."

"…You mean you've planned for the issues that will come up after your counterattack succeeds?"

"Naturally, we're prepared."

After seeing Colonel von Lergen off, General Gassman remained alone in his room smoking a cigar; he sighed in spite of himself.

"…I'd like to think it's just a brave front."

As far as he knew, the Imperial Army's current situation was far from ideal. Even if they weren't completely battered, it was probably appropriate to describe them as "awfully exhausted." Unable to overcome the toll of winter, they had only just managed to regroup after sinking into the mud, no?

And that was when the Federation had knocked them sideways.

It was a total surprise attack. And the Imperial Army's response was far too late. It was an uncharacteristic blunder that ended in even their supply depot getting hit.

What said the most was the movement of the front line. Between imperial units pulling far back by the kilometer and reports of a rout, their position wasn't such that they could be putting up a brave front. Perhaps it was properly termed a quagmire? It had to be frustrating. Yet the Imperial Army showed no signs of compromising.

"It's fine for the negotiations to take a while, but… at this rate, will it ever come together? Unless one of them achieves a major victory and the other suffers a terrible defeat, we may not get anywhere."

As the mediator, the longer the negotiations dragged on, the larger he could claim his role was. But honestly, if it was going to take too long, the whole mediation maneuver seemed less appealing.

"…I suppose I just have to wait for Colonel Calandro's report.

"

-x-X-x-

MAY 5, UNIFIED YEAR 1927,

IMPERIAL CAPITAL BERUN, GENERAL STAFF WAR ROOM

The Imperial Army needed a breakthrough on the eastern front, a plan to pull the disordered units away from the front lines that were being backed up on them, to regain discipline, and to avoid a total collapse.

Of course, in the field, what needed to be done was getting done. Noncommissioned officers roared pep talks, lower-ranking officers endeavored to get things under control, and the higher-ranking commanders ran around working hard to reorganize everyone. Thus, order was reinstated.

To put it plainly, the issue was what their next move would be, given their strategic environment.

They were in the process of gathering enough fighting power for a counteroffensive: airborne rangers, air forces, armored units for mobility, and what little shells and horses they could find. But working like alchemists, the Service Corps had managed to scrape together the minimum—the bare minimum—of supplies necessary for the attack.

Still, no one could deny that it was all done very quickly. And more than anything, no one was sure that the prep for this emergency plan was really enough.

Normally, there would have been a careful risk assessment. But at present, all they had was an operation plan based on forced guesses made under strict time constraints.

You definitely couldn't call it a thorough job. And more than anything, their track record of failing to grasp the enemy situation made them extra hesitant.

The trauma was deep-rooted. The General Staff's failure to predict the enemy offensive cast a heavy shadow over their ability to judge the situation.

Their plan for a counteroffensive to deal some serious damage to the enemy field army as soon as the spring ground solidified missed its mark.

It was such a blunder that everyone had to admit that they had done a horrible job analyzing the enemy situation. If they faced off again without a plan, they would surely

be swept away.

In order to recover, desperate for a move that would break through their strategic difficulties, the General Staff mustered all their wisdom, collected what few possibilities remained, and put together a sole hope.

The name of the plan was Operation Iron Hammer.

The idea was overly ambitious maneuver warfare focused on hitting the brunt of the enemy forces with one powerful strike.

Even the primary architect of the plan, Lieutenant General von Rudersdorf, had to admit that Operation Iron Hammer was an all-or-nothing gamble.

"Hey, Zettour, what do you think?"

"It's too high-risk for a final plan. That's about it. Operation Iron Hammer has a rationale I can't deny, so I agree with you there. But it just doesn't feel right."

"It's the best we have right now."

The main idea of Operation Iron Hammer was to use a river in the enemy's rear area as a huge wall for defense. In order to do that, the plan was to have troops drop at a crossing. While the airborne unit cut the enemy off from their rear area, the "iron hammer" made up primarily of armored forces would ram into the enemy military district to divide and envelop them. It was perfect in theory.

You could say getting them to tidy up the lines to make up for their numerical inferiority and managing to identify the enemy military district through the combined effort of east and central Intelligence despite the unplanned nature of it all was a historic achievement.

But, but, but…

"The fact that we have to just hope that this one attack will solve all our problems is… exceedingly pathetic."

"Hope? Stop making it sound like we're praying, Zettour. The already oppressive atmosphere in the General Staff will get even gloomier. Besides, it isn't our job to look to the Lord—though we could ask a chaplain to…"

-x-X-x-

[Image]

-x-X-x-

Lieutenant General von Zettour nodded solemnly that Rudersdorf was right about that, but he couldn't help but express his internal doubt. "We're staff officers. Our job isn't to pray for miracles but to perform them. I don't have any objections to that. But do you think we really can?"

"We need a miracle, so it's our duty." Rudersdorf spoke matter-of-factly, declaring that there was nothing to be confused about. "It must be done, so we'll make it happen."

If you get it, then quit whining was the look Rudersdorf shot at him, and Zettour shook his head and murmured, "That's how it's always been. We do what we must."

Operation Iron Hammer hinged entirely on whether the drop was successful or not. In order to send in the ranger paratroopers, a battle for air supremacy would be unavoidable. The imperial military was only just barely able to cover the necessary costs—fuel, planes, personnel, and so on.

"Rudersdorf, I'll be straight with you. At present, our air force is like a rubber band stretched to its limits. Please remember that." Zettour warned him out of the sense of duty that went with his position. Saying they didn't have any more room to extend further was the same as saying he could see them about to snap.

…Ultimately, and sadly, they couldn't count on the air force to be capable of a second strike. At this point, they had already mobilized every last transport plane and personnel they could muster. It wasn't even likely they would be able to get adequate supplies to the rangers being dropped at the Federation river crossing.

And he couldn't shake his worry about how long the lightly outfitted rangers would actually be able to hold the bridge. It would be a battle against time. If it took too long, the damage would be irreversible.

"We've done what we can, so all that's left is to believe in our troops out there fighting."

"Hahhh," Zettour sighed. He respected his friend and was terribly envious of his unflappable courage.

"You're always like this." "Like what?"

"I envy your decisiveness and how certain you are. I'm incapable of that much

confidence. All this walking on thin ice has worn me out."

"Hmph," Rudersdorf snorted. He thought highly of himself, yes, but that's what a staff officer had to do. And as long as a staff officer was defined thusly, a high-ranking officer who had been through the staff curriculum would necessarily end up arrogant.

He took pride in his power, in his devotion to his duties, and in his abilities as a specialist.

"No risk, no reward."

"I agree with you, Rudersdorf, albeit with a reservation." "What reservation?"

Zettour nodded, shrugged, and hit him with exactly what he wanted to say. "It has to be a risk taken after eliminating what risks can be eliminated."

"You just don't know when to give in, do you?"

"General von Rudersdorf, I'll take the liberty of saying… that no, I don't." Zettour's heavy sigh mixed with the anxious tapping of his trembling left fingers on the table. Irritated, he shook his hand out and took a cigar from the case. The words that slipped out before he put it in his mouth were his true feelings. "No sane person would approve of this gamble. If this were before the war, the one who came up with it would be sent to a sanatorium!"

"Are you saying it's madness?"

Obviously. Zettour nodded firmly.

A long-range airborne operation and no solid prospects for supplying the rangers who dropped? If this failed, they would have lost their invaluable reserve ranger paratroopers

—that fact alone was headache inducing. And they'd have to abandon the eastern defensive lines to counter.

If they lost this bet, imperial units could collapse across the board… Though it was true that if they won, it would be a great achievement. They could also expect it to have a positive impact on the secret negotiations going on in Ildoa as they spoke. If things went well, it might even lead to a cease-fire and peace.

Sadly, all these hopes came with the caveat of victory. This was a military operation in name, but in essence it could be described only as a gamble. It was incredibly risky— perhaps even too risky.

"What else could you call it? The basis of the logic may be just barely sound, but in practice, it's a parade of impossible hurdles… How many examples are there outside textbooks of a maneuver battle punching through an enemy military district? It's nutty," Zettour grumbled, and just as he was setting his cigar in the ashtray, he caught a glimpse of his reflection in the window.

As usual, he was looking a bit pale… His exhaustion was written all over his face. Whether it was the curse of overwork or caused by stress, he wasn't sure, but his hair wasn't doing too well, either.

The same went for his friend next to him feigning pep and motivation.

"There's no guarantee that we can break through." Am I wrong? he asked with his eyes, and Rudersdorf frowned slightly.

His old friend was a man like a great boulder, but unexpectedly, he was showing his true feelings—Zettour knew that.

"General von Rudersdorf, frankly… I can't be sure of this plan."

"It's fine to be cautious. But you can't waver when it comes to execution. There are plenty of examples in military history of hesitation ending in failure. Aren't you supposed to be a specialist in that field?"

"I am, but setting theory aside… I'm also human, you know?"

"Oh?" Rudersdorf moved his eyebrows to indicate his interest, and Zettour, wincing, carefully proceeded to say what was on his mind.

"The worst-case scenario is enough to stop this old man's little heart. Sorry, but I can't take this calmly."

"I've been wondering since before," Rudersdorf said, frowning. "Aren't you being awfully timid? What in the world is wrong?"

"I don't know."

"What?"

Even questioned with that confused look… Zettour himself couldn't pin down the cause of his hesitation. Since he understood how unscientific and illogical it was, he was having trouble explaining it, but could it have been intuition?

It was absurd, but maybe it was his experience giving him a warning. So, realizing he was being vague, he expressed his worry. "We can't estimate the risks. Honestly, that's the whole thing. We don't have a clear idea of the possibilities."

He wasn't even sure if it was because they didn't do enough preliminary analysis or their fighting power wasn't amply prepared. He had done both of those things to the best of his ability. He had done all he could.

Yet he didn't have the usual certainty he did before an operation. Something was missing.

He could think, Well, if…

He could wish, Or maybe…

But as for whether he could sit and wait for victory leisurely puffing a cigar… he couldn't fool himself. Something was bothering him.

"That's not like you. I was sure you'd come to the discussion with everything figured out." "…There's too much of the unexpected in war."

There were too many things he didn't know. Ever since the fighting had started, there were so many events he didn't understand and couldn't have anticipated.

Strangest of all was how, looking back, everything seemed inevitable—to the point that now he wondered how he couldn't have seen it all coming. It made him want to scream.

Was it because so many of his plans had failed that he was losing confidence in his judgment?

"Yes, you've been talking that way for a while now. You realize you're not fit to be called a superior officer if you're lacking willpower, right?"

"That's not my intention. I just don't want to confuse recklessness with bravery." "We solve this by acting."

Faced with such fortitude, Zettour felt something was off. He had thought that given the situation in the east, his old friend would have been fainthearted as well, but on the contrary, the Operations man remained unchanged at his root. The way he continued to emphasize action as their only option was very Rudersdorf.

So did I really make a rare mistake in reading his intention?

"…Make use of our mobility. Launch an attack directly on the border of the enemy's military district. An airborne operation, a battle for air supremacy. We've even made all sorts of preparations for preliminary espionage. But the risks are still too great. Honestly, I don't want to keep doing this."

"That's only logical, but we do have some history of producing reliable operation plans, you know. I wish you in the Service Corps would trust your colleagues a bit more."

Zettour laughed, as if that was the funniest joke he'd heard all day. There was no less common word in the General Staff than reliable. And in the first place, can you really call someone who recommends this high-risk operation as the only option reliable?

The fundamental goal of staff education was to take someone who was contrary and turn them into someone who was useful and contrary. Has the Imperial Army General Staff, who plans to take the initiative and do what people hate, who takes the initiative and attempts to carry out flexible, fly-by-the-seat-of-their-pants missions, ever once selected a "reliable" operation?

"You mean the guys who are always betting on the outcome?" "We have no choice but to roll the die. Am I wrong?"

"…As irritating as it is, no."

-x-X-x-

MAY 5, UNIFIED YEAR 1927,

EASTERN FRONT, SALAMANDER KAMPFGRUPPE COMMAND

In military history, things tend to be discussed as if they happened according to plan. It's written that the mission was a go, but there's nothing recorded about the chaos leading up to the action.

The Imperial Army's Operation Iron Hammer has begun.

From the very first moment on, the commanders in the east, grumbling as they go, perform their duty as a precision war machine.

"There's a message! A message from HQ! Officers, gather up!"

The Salamander Kampfgruppe, deployed on the eastern front as the Lergen Kampfgruppe in name, is no exception. Having adjusted their position with some delicate combat during their retreat, they are on standby for further orders from the home country, so the officers gather swiftly.

"I wondered what was up, and it seems it's a major operation. Iron Hammer? So we're going in and pulling out again… Busy, busy."

Major Weiss shrugs, reluctant, but he's one of the ones who has the mental capacity to handle it. Acclimated officers know the importance of responding quickly to changes in the situation.

Old hands are invaluable because even if the game changes, they identify common rules and optimize by applying their existing knowledge.

"It's ridiculous. They think the troops can attack when they're this disorganized?"

First Lieutenant Tospan, on the other hand, is the type to make a mountain out of a molehill. For better or worse, officers who learn through experience evaluate things based on how difficult they seem.

This is a good opportunity, thinks Tanya as she surveys the command post, glimpsing the idiosyncrasies of her subordinates.

The smiling First Lieutenant Serebryakov probably shouldn't be counted. For better or worse, she's used to the impossible problems the General Staff throws at them, so she's not a good point of reference.

First Lieutenant Grantz—an honest guy—has begun silently shoving chocolate bars into his pack. Sometimes I wonder if he can really command, but he does what is possible in the field at his level, so he deserves credit for that.

Captain Meybert is apparently caught up in the numbers related to his duties with the artillery. Just as I'm thinking what an interesting response that is, I notice First Lieutenant Wüstemann sounding upset as he questions his superior, Weiss.

"Major, regarding this Operation Iron Hammer, there's no preliminary plan?"

"Maybe the bigwigs in the General Staff have one, but are you trying to say we should?" "…Right, well, that is, what should I do?"

"You don't need to think so hard, Lieutenant. Just follow orders. You'll be told to go, you'll be told to come back, and before you know it in all the confusion, the battle'll be over," Weiss spits in an exasperated tone, and the look that crosses his face must be a symptom of that frontline syndrome officers jaded from the field get?

No. Tanya shakes her head.

"All right, Officers, shall we get started?" """"Yes, ma'am.""""

Properly trained officers are able to switch gears extremely fast. Up until just a moment ago, they were trading gripes, but now they all have their specialist faces on.

"Colonel, what's going on? Forgive me for asking, but I don't see the Ildoan colonel…"

The question Weiss poses on behalf of her subordinates is utterly valid. The Kingdom of Ildoa's military observer has been around the command post for a while, so his absence sticks out whether she wants it to or not.

"I had Colonel Calandro give us some space. Because, you know…"

A high-ranking outsider is a massive obstacle when trying to get candid opinions from her subordinates. The moment the home country sounded us out about it, she asked him to leave them, assuming he wouldn't agree.

But luckily, he understood. A guy with a head on his shoulders like that is a treasure in any situation. I'm sure he'll go far in Ildoa.

I'm serving on the forward-most line; our esteemed guest is serving on the forward- most line's bench. It'd be a lie if I said I wasn't a little envious… but I'm too off topic, thinks Tanya as she changes her focus.

"Okay, let's make this quick. We've been ordered to undertake Operation Iron Hammer, a major counteroffensive."

"There was no sign this was coming, huh? I wish they would take into account the disarray of the frontline troops. It's frustrating that the home country tends to plan operations with brainpower only."

"It's probably about maintaining secrecy, Captain Meybert. The General Staff is often concerned with that." She defends the higher-ups a bit but knows that Meybert is probably right.

The orders were for a front-wide advance. Given the fighting power they have mobilized, it'll probably be a corps-scale maneuver battle. It's easy to propose finding the limits of the Federation's offensive and knocking them back while they've got the pressure on all along the front, but it's another dimension of difficulty to pull it off.

"Telegram. Here you go, Colonel." "Thanks."

Looking over the paper the signaler hands her, Tanya is stunned by the astonishing reality of what it says.

"Huh? How incredibly…" "Colonel? What's wrong?"

"Oh, just surprised at the home country's judgment, Major. They're so, uh, fearless. The plan for the operation itself is relatively simple, but it's quite a gamble."

"A gamble?"

"Yeah." Tanya nods at Weiss. "Operation Iron Hammer is what I'd call a 'vertical envelopment.' I guess you could say it's nearly the quintessential maneuver battle."

The one who flinched first in response to the words maneuver battle was the armored- forces man. For better or worse, a decisive armored officer doesn't hesitate to ask questions.

"…Have we secured the air superiority minimally necessary to fight a maneuver battle?" Tanya nods to acknowledge Captain Ahrens's good point.

The ground units can't get very far if we don't have control of the sky. Fighting a maneuver battle without that control is a pipe dream. Nobody wants to travel under fire from Jabos.

"Don't worry. Our air force has taken care of it… We were shot at by enemy artillery and even some numbskulls on our own side, but we haven't had any harassment from enemy planes, right?"

"…So it wasn't just a coincidence? I assumed it was God's protection…"

"Believe not in God but your fellow soldiers, Captain Ahrens. Apparently, our dear air force has been doing good work for us."

How wonderfully efficient, even Tanya marvels… The planes that had been scraped together did take control of the airspace.

"But how?"

"The damn Federation air force was too spread out trying to cover their advancing infantry. We took advantage of that situation."

The air forces nominally mobilized to assist in the withdrawal and tidying up of the lines had waged a battle for the sky and gained, if temporarily, air superiority. For the first time in a while, the eastern sky was the Empire's playing field.

That last achievement was reported only moments ago.

"I found out about it just now, but… ranger paratroopers are going in ahead of us. Airborne units will drop in the vicinity of a large river in the enemy's rear area. Apparently, the objective is to block off a crossing point… and the aerial mages will cover them."

"An airborne operation? To a crossing in the enemy's rear?" "That's right." She nods at Weiss, who seems taken aback.

Honestly, aside from the fact that they're committing too many troops, it's a classic operation. If we fail, the airborne units holding the crossing will be wiped out… It's a huge risk.

Surely even the General Staff, which so values decisive measures… wouldn't permit such a gamble if there was no hope of success.

"It's an altered version of the trick we used in Arene. Dropping only aerial mages wouldn't be enough, but if we're paired with the ranger paratroopers, they probably figure we'll have the numbers and firepower to suppress the enemy."

The method of taking the initiative and hitting the enemy with what you yourself would hate—it must be a cliche´ by now, when speaking of how to compete.

It can't be a bad idea for the Imperial Army to put up an enthusiastic fight against the harassment masters of the Federation's Communist Party.

"Our job is to lead the charge—as the central penetrating group." "So, then?"

Her officers are a bit too eager to fight, but affirming the anticipation of your subordinates is part of the job of a good boss.

"Establishing a communication line with the troops who drop into the enemy rear area is a critical task. Our orders are to charge all the way to the river. It goes without saying that if we're late, the ranger paratroopers could be annihilated. It's a major responsibility."

When she puts it into words, the burden is clear.

Above all, the enemy rear area is… far away.

Frankly, it'll be tough to join up with the rangers during the period they're able to continue fighting without being resupplied unless we crank out some serious speed. Even the Salamander Kampfgruppe, which has been mostly mechanized by this point, doesn't stand a very good chance of operating on schedule when clashing with the physical obstacle of enemy troops.

"Who's all being assigned to the district?"

"We'll be in the same district as the Second Armored Division, the Fifteenth Division, and the Third Composite Mechanized Infantry Division. In effect, it'll be those three self-propelled divisions plus the Mobile Kampfgruppe as the vanguard group."

Considering the Imperial Army is committing mechanized troops—which is rare— you can say that at least in form, they're sending their very best, but… there's no way these units will be able to coordinate effectively when their chains of command have barely interacted before.

If they're counting on the flashy work of impressive individuals to naturally produce something that resembles teamwork, the risk of something going wrong is higher.

"May I ask a question that strikes to the heart of the matter?" "Sure, Major Weiss."

"They may not have trenches, but I'm concerned that we won't be able to navigate the densely packed Federation troops. I have trouble believing three divisions will be enough to break through…"

"You're right. Troops, even the General Staff wouldn't simply tell us to punch through with no plan."

The dry chuckles of "Ha-ha-ha" she hears are a good sign.

At least being able to trade jokes and snark means they're in a much better place in terms of strategic views and logic than a bunch who are trapped in the depths of their thoughts after their minds start wandering from the stress.

"Take a look at the map, everybody."

Given the info we received from above, plus the map, we can get an approximate idea of their intentions. That's an ability an officer is required to have, and a natural one for a staff officer to possess.

"So we're… supposed to attack where the enemy positions overlap?"

"That's right. The Intelligence fellows in the General Staff must want us to head through this gap."

With all the shocked faces in a row, Tanya can guess what her subordinates have imagined. Tanya's vets—Weiss, Serebryakov, and Grantz—are quick to compose themselves… Perhaps they have good crisis-management skills, so they know how to escape a risky situation.

"Did you have something, Captain Ahrens? You can be honest."

"…It's quite something if they've managed to grasp where the enemy has control?"

The army's administration is vertical. Even a commander who does everything in their power to defend their own district would have a hard time maintaining smooth control over their troops if their district and authority overlapped with their neighbor's.

But only an amateur could declare that ranks and clear assignments exist to prevent that sort of issue. No army on this earth can immediately tell which district an enemy attack is occurring in.

Even GPSs make mistakes, so how are we supposed to tell with just the maps and communications circumstances of this era?

So the optimal answer, in ideal theory, is to strike right between two districts. The only issue is the simple truth Ahrens has put forth with a frown: If they've managed…

"If you'll excuse my asking, how reliable is this information?" "The Intelligence guy from the General Staff guarantees it…"

Ahrens shakes his head as if to say, You've got to be kidding—he's actually a pretty good actor.

"Can we trust that analysis? General Staff intelligence has been hit-or-miss, especially

when it comes to the situation on the eastern front."

"That's a good point. Not that I'm not worried about it at all, but… as a staff officer, I'll say that the General Staff has its strengths and weaknesses like anyone."

In the education curriculum, there end up being areas covered in depth and others that only get summarized as far as the textbook goes. It has to be that way when you're cultivating not general-purpose geniuses but specialists with specific functions.

Which is why Tanya says, "Actually, in terms of intelligence analysis, the General Staff is pretty good at military and only military affairs analysis. Once politics get mixed in, in the strategic analysis realm, they could use some work."

"So you're saying you've managed to nail down where the enemy districts are?" "Major Weiss, why are you asking me that?"

"Oh right, do excuse me."

Tanya grimaces at her bowing subordinate. It's not that she can't understand wanting to ask. Tanya herself would like to carefully question the General Staff about how confident they are.

She'd like to grill them, actually: Are you sure this time? But she can't ask that. How could she possibly ask that?

So she just makes it seem like she's joking.

"Well, I'm sure the Intelligence officers know what'll happen if we fail. I know Lieutenant General von Zettour, and he's the type who doesn't hesitate to learn from the enemy."

"Learn from the… You mean?"

"Yeah." She nods at Weiss. "Even the General Staff only has so much patience. They'll probably start implementing Federation-style punishments for these guys if they keep screwing up."

"That would make the Intelligence officers take things pretty seriously."

"Ha-ha-ha, right?"

Once the atmosphere relaxes slightly, Tanya quickly introduces the main topic of their discussion. Assuming the intel they have is correct, if they want to act, it's a battle against time. They can't go off on too many tangents.

"You remember how we got that order to retreat the other day, right…? That was when they figured it out. It may be a little rough, but they're definitely the newest data available. That's better than being given a detailed map from a month ago." Tanya confirms that everyone is nodding in agreement before continuing. "Now that we know what the situation is, we need to consider tactics. We're a Kampfgruppe made up of tanks, infantry, mages, and artillery, and thanks to the coordination we've built up over successive battles, we can deliver a solid blow."

In any endeavor, the first step toward success is an objective understanding of the situation. That old aphorism about knowing your enemy and yourself is the simple truth. In that sense, the Salamander Kampfgruppe can be optimistic about its small yet coordinated composite of firepower, but on the other hand, it's about the smallest possible strategic unit.

If it's going to charge into a proper enemy army, a hard fight will be inevitable. So Tanya sneers.

"…Unfortunately, we're only a single Kampfgruppe. So we'll use a cheap trick." "A cheap trick?"

"Yes, Captain Ahrens. I'm counting on you. Get us to the river no matter what." "Huh?"

-x-X-x-

MAY 7, UNIFIED YEAR 1927, EASTERN FRONT, FORWARD-MOST LINE

The concentrated guns took the enemy completely by surprise in the counterattack.

For thirty-some hours after the order to advance was given, the Imperial Army clashed with the Federation's at various points along the line. Meanwhile, the aerial mage

battalion the Imperial Army was so proud of sortied along with the air fleet. Lucky for the imperial ground troops, the balance of power in the sky was tipped heavily toward the Empire.

Encouraged by the favorable conditions, multiple imperial ground units chose to attempt a fast break. In order to meet up with the ranger paratroopers as quickly as possible, they made a beeline east for the river.

The Lergen Kampfgruppe—that is, the Salamander Kampfgruppe—was tasked with securing a route for the rest of the vanguard, which consisted of the Second Armored Division, the Fifteenth Division, and the Third Composite Mechanized Infantry Division.

They were formed up with Captain Ahrens's armored unit and the aerial mage battalion out front and Captain Meybert leading the second echelon of guns, infantry, and replenishment mages. Having the first echelon cause an impact, the second expand it, and the following divisions sustain it was a simple tactic, but that was why it was sure to work.

The orthodox way is extremely profitable as long as you can pull it off.

On that point, there is no great difference between the organization and doctrine of the Salamander Kampfgruppe and the ground forces. But compared to the other units, which found themselves in battle after fierce battle, the Salamander Kampfgruppe had a strikingly easy time of it.

There was a single secret to their comfortable advance.

Tanya's trick was to have the aerial mages employ tank desant,7 thereby suppressing their mana signals and gathering enemy attention on the other aerial mage units.

The Federation Army had its hands full trying to deal with the overpowering mages; it may have actually been a good thing that the Federation was so well protected against mage attacks from the sky.

From the imperial communications Tanya was picking up, it was clear that the Federation troops were ambushing aerial mage units the moment they were detected, and even if they weren't able to do that, they could use the mana signals as a way to locate the imperial forces on the battlefield.

So if you want to hide a tree, use a forest.

If you want to hide aerial mages, use an aerial mage battle.

The Federation troops were on careful guard against the aerial mages in the sky, and thus, the Salamander Kampfgruppe and their powerful aerial mages were able to break through to the meeting point—or, rather, they succeeded in slipping past.

As a result, they achieved a speedy advance that broke previous eastern-front records. They enjoyed an almost anticlimactic breakthrough.

An aerial mage unit probably won't take too much damage in a tank desant. That was what she expected when she had the mages ride in on the tanks, and Tanya is impressed—Not bad—by how much it helped in enemy detection.

While the visibility from inside the tank is limited, desant personnel, entirely exposed, have a broad view of the field. Being able to keep a careful 360-degree watch is brilliant. And on top of that, it mechanizes them so they don't have to move on their own.

Wars should be won with the least effort possible. In that sense, using tanks as a ride isn't a bad option—if you can shut your eyes to the breakdowns that accompany self- propelling… but in this instance, Tanya considers them within the permissible range.

She's daydreaming about reporting up the chain to suggest transporting mages by tank when one of the mages raises an alarm after spotting movement.

"An infantryman! At one o'clock! There's an ambush!"

The surprised mages react swiftly. Upon discovery of the target, they load a magic bullet with a formula pre-manifested and aim for one o'clock.

Just as a couple of tanks are about to begin searching fire as harassment— "Wait! Don't shoot! That's one of ours! It's one of the ranger paratroopers!"

First Lieutenant Grantz's shout from the forward group of tanks makes everyone lower their weapons.

"Lieutenant, there's no mistake?"

"The paratrooper helmet! It's one of ours!"

"All right." Tanya promptly gives an order, standing tall on her tank. "All units, wave your caps! Caps!"

When approaching an almost surely nervous field unit, there's a good chance you'll be shot at unless you make it clear you're not an enemy.

And troops standing on tanks waving their caps all at once speak volumes to the lack of hostility on our part.

"Don't shoot! We're friends! We're Imperial Army!" "Wh—? Huh? A friendly unit?"

Yes, the crowd of waving caps and helmets seems to say, and the rangers who looked to be attempting to turn an anti-tank gun on us immediately relax.

That was almost a bad scene. Tanya sighs, relieved. If she had blown away the rangers they were sent in to save, it would have ended in court-martialed disgrace.

"…Tank desants are not half-bad."

I guess there's a reason the former Soviets and even Americans used this tactic, Tanya reevaluates. She didn't think meat shields should be used so explicitly, but she revises her mistake.

She has success right before her eyes. "Nice work, you guys."

Grantz, running out front, shares an enthusiastic embrace with the airborne officer leading the group. Watching them punch each other in the shoulders is such a moving scene.

"Sorry we're late!" "Glad you made it!"

Tanya's unit and the paratrooper rangers mingle, praising one another's efforts. From the way the rangers' expressions, hollow with exhaustion, break into smiles, she can see, whether she wants to or not, how desperately they must have fought these nearly

three days isolated in enemy territory. Their struggles couldn't have been just any ordinary struggles.

Thinking she'd like to be of any help she can, Tanya speaks. "I'm the commanding officer of the Kampfgruppe, Lieutenant Colonel von Degurechaff. Is there anything you need?!"

"We've been out of ammo for a while. Aside from the mages, we basically have nothing… If you have bullets, it would be great if you could share them with us."

"I'll arrange that right away. I hate to make demands in exchange, but we'll borrow a bit of your water."

"Water?" He points at the major river running under the bridge as if to say, It's right there.

But Tanya is a modern individual who values the concept of property. "Hey now, you guys fought hard to take that, didn't you? How much? Let's make it a fair trade of ammo for water."

"Ha-ha-ha! It's true that we captured the river. I must be tired." "That won't do. Not getting enough sleep?"

"I'd like to get some serious Z's in a proper bed for the first time in a while. After that, I'll take a commemorative photo."

These troops have given up their break periods to fight through battle after fierce battle. It's their right to request proper rotation days, and it's a commander's duty to make sure they rest.

"Rest well," Tanya replies casually before murmuring, "it's such a huge operation. A commemorative photo isn't a bad idea… Maybe we should take one, too."

"It's not bad at all. I'll handle camera procurement!"

"Lieutenant Serebryakov? Good. I'll be looking forward to it." "Yes, you can count on me!"

So reliable, thinks Tanya with a wry smile as she turns, filled with emotion, to look at the water. With a river like this, the enemy won't be able to retreat like they might want to. That's how bridges become fateful choke points.

"…I guess all that's left is to carry this thing out."

-x-X-x-

MAY 8, UNIFIED YEAR 1927,

THE GENERAL STATE OF THE EASTERN FRONT

By the time Federation Army Command realized what was happening, the Kampfgruppe vanguard was already deep behind their lines.

If even one hole opened, the Imperial Army would come flooding in to force their way into the wound with firepower and infantry. Preventing a breach would require striking the flank of the attacking unit, but due to their loss of air superiority, the Federation Army couldn't even move troops freely.

We shall be victorious.

The moment the Imperial Army commanders were confident of that, their thirst for victory grew even more. Meanwhile, having even a small breach in their lines was a huge drain on Federation morale. The units that were otherwise holding strong on the front lines were forced to retreat due to the threat facing the rear communication lines.

Looking at this from a position of levelheaded objectivity, with the Federation Army's numerical superiority, the balance should have still tipped in their favor. But without air superiority, control of the battlefield returned to the imperial side.

At that moment, the Federation's plan for a major offensive on the eastern front completely stalled out. Far from eliminating the imperial paratrooper rangers who had dropped in their rear, if the Federation troops didn't retreat promptly, they would be under heavy siege.

-x-X-x-

THE SAME DAY,

IMPERIAL CAPITAL BERUN, IMPERIAL ARMY GENERAL STAFF OFFICE

Between the state of wireless communications and reports from the field, even the General Staff far in the rear could tell that the operation was going well.

Even if they couldn't get a complete understanding of the situation until more details arrived, it was clear from the communications that had come in that they were successfully eliminating resistance and advancing.

Still, reports of success from the ground were categorically different from the supposition of an advantage analogized from corroborations.

With staffers walking restlessly by the communications equipment every few minutes and even high-ranking officers puffing endlessly on hand-rolled tobacco instead of their precious cigars, the General Staff Office was practically overflowing with smoke and tension.

Just as everyone's suspense had built to the perfect storm of impatience and conflict, the message they had been waiting for came through like a blessed rain.

"The breakthrough is a success! They broke through! It's a message from the airborne unit's command! They have contact with the Sixth Paratrooper Ranger Regiment and the Lergen Kampfgruppe!"

"…The Lergen Kampfgruppe?"

"Sorry, that's what we're secretly calling the Salamander Kampfgruppe." When some of the staff officers looked confused to hear their colleague's name, a member of Operations explained in a low voice.

"And they managed to do the hardest part, splitting them down the middle?" "It's confirmed."

"…They really pulled it off, huh?"

After doing all they could and being even arrogantly confident in their plan, they had

been forced deep down to seek divine protection in this tightrope act. So we made it across? The worry left the faces of a few of the officers. The annihilation of the airborne unit they had feared had been escaped for sure, and if things went well, they might even get excellent results.

Everyone was hoping they could look forward to the next report. "How about the flanks?"

"We'll know when we get a follow-up… Excuse me." The communications technician clung to the telegraph and took notes for a little while. When he looked up, beaming, he raised his voice. "They're in wireless contact with both flanks!"

A sweet outcome—or hope… The gloom pervading the room was swept away, and the staffers, who had started to feel trapped, were abruptly energized. It was the instant that, for the first time in so long, they were able to regain confidence and certainty.

Their smiles seemed even childlike as all their thoughts turned to the achievements that were being made.

An Operations man summarized the situation and raced to the back of the room to give the good news to Lieutenant Generals von Rudersdorf and von Zettour, who were keeping an eye on overall progress. "The left side needs a little more time to eliminate resistance, but the enemy lines are seriously shaken, so forming a pocket is only a matter of time!"

"We caught them?"

"Yes, General von Rudersdorf! We were able to catch them!" "I see." The general smiled in satisfaction. "…So we got 'em…"

There was a hint of relief in his nearly soliloquy-esque remark, loud enough for only Zettour sitting next to him to hear. He must have been doing his best not to let his subordinates see his concern. It was deeply unbearable for him to be capable of nothing but hoping for success. Perhaps you could call it a specific type of isolation that high-ranking staff officers experience during in-progress operations.

The moment they were liberated from their worries, both Rudersdorf and Zettour stood up so fast, they practically knocked their chairs over and cheered, ""Hooray!""

All the staffers spontaneously smiled, and soon unsparing admiration was being directed toward the plan's architect, Rudersdorf.

"Congratulations!"

"What?" Rudersdorf demurred with a shake of his head. "No, this is thanks to the airborne unit and the mages accompanying them who persevered for us. It wouldn't have been possible without them holding out for three days and nights in enemy territory." He continued, seeming deeply moved, "I'm just overwhelmed. The least we can do is thank them. Start the decorations applications ASAP."

"Yes, sir."

If he left things up to the staffers who sprinted off with a "Leave it to me," he was sure they would get them done.

The buoyant mood had everyone shouting toasts with the sweet nectar of victory. But in any gathering, there is always someone sober.

"…So all we have to do now is finish it off." Zettour snorted. He was happy, but he wasn't ecstatic. There was no way he could forget how on the Rhine, they had stumbled in the final stages despite winning a major victory.

"…So we'll encircle and annihilate them using the river. Paratroopers, topography, and the division of enemy military districts… With those conditions, I'd like to say that creating the pocket will clinch it, but…"

"General von Zettour, I get what you're trying to say. We won a neck-or-nothing battle. So we should make sure to wrench definitive results out of it."

"You got me. If you put it so cautiously, I can't complain. If this operation is a success, you'll have my eternal admiration." Rudersdorf, you win is what he essentially said with a smile. "That said, an achievement is an achievement. It deserves a genuine celebration. I'll treat you to wine from the Service Corps's secret stash."

"Ohhh? If it's wine I'm depriving you of, I'm sure it'll be delicious."

Zettour rose to the challenge with a shrug. "You can count on it." As the one in charge of mobilizing mate´riel, he strove to be impartial, but for a victory of this level, he felt

an offer of wine was permissible.

"Colonel Uger, sorry to make more work for you, but send over a dozen or so bottles later."

"Understood."

Lieutenant Colonel Uger, who took on the task with a reassuring attitude, was not only a rear-area specialist, he was also a bit of a wine connoisseur. Surely he would select the right bottles.

He could be entrusted the task of choosing bottles for a gift of wine, where one combination could change the meaning entirely! A thoughtful fellow like that who was also an outstanding soldier was a precious asset to the Service Corps.

It came down to trust. When considering an individual who had racked up achievements to be trustworthy, it was only natural to think of that person as a rare commodity.

"…Proper reasoning…" Zettour cracked a wry smile. That's me, all right. Was it a bad habit to always be thinking about the correct procedure and structure? When it came to a single gift, it was difficult to deny.

Either way… He shook his head.

It was possible to minimize the error in their calculations. Inferences, predictions, and then action—that was Zettour's duty. In that case, knowing what to consider in this war situation was fairly simple.

First, the Imperial Army was currently dividing and encircling the Federation forces. After splitting them into thirds, it was strengthening the encirclement and then finishing the process with annihilation.

Even a gamble could become a new page in history if you pulled it off.

Future students at the officer academy would end up with more material to study. But what a pleasant feeling that is.

That said, nothing means anything until it's firmly in hand, Zettour reflected and shook his head. We probably can't let our guard down yet. It would be especially problematic if the enemy decided to try to force their way through the encirclement and find a way

out.

"…But if enemy command is operational, then yeah…" By the time he murmured that, he had come up with a new plan. Their victory was already fairly certain, but… it would be an even surer thing if they made one more move.

"All right, let's crush them."

The Imperial Army had been making frequent use of decapitation tactics in this war. A direct attack on enemy headquarters would render their chain of command definitively helpless at a decisive moment.

Sending an aerial mage battalion in on a direct operation against enemy headquarters had been effective on the Rhine, in Dacia, on the southern continent, and even on the eastern front.

Basically, it was an optimal solution.

It may have been a high-risk operation that required air superiority, a minimum of support, and well-trained aerial magic officers and veterans, but when the conditions lined up, its impact was unrivaled.

"Colonel Uger, allow me to ask one more thing of you." "Yes, sir, anything you need."

"Contact the Salamander—errr, the Lergen Kampfgruppe. Have them check if it's possible to attack enemy HQ directly."

"Are you sure? I don't know if we should go over regional command's head…" Uger pointed out the need for consideration with a frown. But the polite, proper process of getting permission from the regional army headquarters would be overly cautious. The balance between decisive and prudent action is always difficult for an officer. He and Rudersdorf both seemed liable to gaze blankly off into the distance, but Zettour smiled wanly.

"Colonel Uger. You're an excellent officer, but you don't know much about how field officers feel, do you?"

"Huh?"

"On the front lines, what is useful is just. I'm sure that as long as Colonel von Degurechaff is after her prey like a hunting dog, the eastern army group won't have a problem."

Uger blinked as understanding began to come over him. This sort of flexibility was rare in a staffer. I'll make a note on his performance evaluation later.

"I'll sound out Operations. Let's get to work."

-x-X-x-

MAY 8, UNIFIED YEAR 1927,

EASTERN FRONT, SALAMANDER KAMPFGRUPPE COMMAND POST

"General von Zettour really runs his people into the ground… I can't believe he's asking us to strike enemy HQ directly."

"Isn't that always what happens? Well… and officially, this is a message for the Lergen Kampfgruppe."

"Yep, it was." That was the show put on for outsiders. Tanya smiles at her adjutant. Though form is a pain in the ass, it must be upheld as necessary procedure.

"I'd really like to answer No can do in Colonel von Lergen's name. Should I just think of him as below me and have him wear the mud?"

Tanya is half-serious.

That said, she doesn't have time or energy for disguises, and disguises are against the rules. If she's trying to follow the rules in good faith, then she isn't permitted such neglect of her duties.

I guess I have no choice… She shakes her head and then opens her mouth with resignation. "…I guess I'm tired enough to talk about things that are impossible. War follows such an erratic schedule—it's no good."

"I agree, ma'am. But what should we do?"

"The enemy is as fit as ever. We succeeded in surrounding them, but that doesn't mean their stockpiles have run out. I'd like to take my time, but the General Staff prefers a

quick surgical procedure."

An encircled enemy is a cornered rat. Tanya, who would like to win with the least effort possible, has no enthusiasm for a plan that involves charging into the desperate Federation forces and getting bit. And there probably aren't any more supplies coming.

"It makes me miss the additional acceleration apparatus."

"Right. If we had those, this would be a lot easier." But as soon as she replies, she's so shocked, it's as if she'd been struck by a bolt from the blue.

Thinking calmly, she decides it's clear that something is off. Can I really be missing one of that engineer Schugel's inventions?

Sheesh, war is really doing a number on me.

Even if you report in that you can't accept the risk of losses and express your reluctance, any army has a clear hierarchy—no one is permitted to refuse a valid order.

Our target is a group of positions that appears to be Federation Army HQ. It's within a short plane ride from the river crossing we took, and the 203rd Aerial Mage Battalion has been given strict orders from the top: They expect an attack.

If told to go, I go.

With no time to even lament how pitiful she is, not being allowed to say no, Tanya is stuck taking her battalion on an operation to strike enemy command.

As expected, perhaps it should be said… Despite the fact that the Federation Army's defenses were supposedly thrown up in a few days, their main position is just as well defended as any on the Rhine.

"The resistance is tough! Shit, is this a bear in the hole castle?"

The enemy's fire density, scale, and, above all, desperation are enough to make even the elite 203rd Aerial Mage Battalion wary.

"Enemy mages are on their way up!"

"Direct support for HQ?! They could have just left it wide open for us!"

Tongue-click-inducingly enough, they've got reserves waiting for us. They're making the right use of troops according to the theory. It's so correct, it makes me sick. If this was a sporting event, I'd probably praise their wisdom and wish them a good game, but in wartime, rivals are to be killed or avoided.

Thinking to take advantage of the altitude difference to smash them with an attack, Tanya manifests a formula. When she casts it at the mages coming up to intercept them, she immediately realizes it didn't work.

"These are the new models!"

She doesn't even need Major Weiss's shrieked warning. Only Federation mages with defensive shells via the new model would be able to keep flying no problem after taking explosion formulas from Tanya and her troops.

"So we can't pierce their defensive shells from a distance?! Fuck!"

Using an optical sniping formula with the penetration jacked all the way up will give her a chance. But it's not like we can leisurely fight it out in the sky over enemy territory. Then, just as she's getting irritated about her plans being ruined, something happens.

A first lieutenant rushes ahead, leading his company in a charge.

"Company, follow me! Close-quarters combat should be effective against these guys!"

Grantz, all vim and vigor, makes a bold decision. Tanya wonders if she should stop him but decides that she should honor her subordinates' self-starting attitudes whenever possible.

"Major Weiss, back him up!" "Are you sure?! We'll stick out!"

She understands her vice commander's implication—that making an overt move here is dangerous—but they've already proven in battle that the new models are weaker at close quarters. Tanya begins to think that rather than clinging to the comfort of fighting at a distance, which would needlessly consume both time and energy, charging in is the right idea.

"That fool Grantz is right this time! Support him in the sky!"

Having Weiss handle an escape route and support is precaution enough. With someone at her back, she can advance and mop up.

"Lieutenant, our company's going after Grantz! Charge that echelon!" Tanya waves her arm—signaling "Let's go!"—and is leading the way when she gasps in shock. Suddenly, Federation anti-air positions begin to open up.

Being shot at by the enemy is fine. I mean, that's war. But this is… Tanya's eyes nearly pop out of her head.

They're going to send a hail of flak up into an area where their own mages are flying?!

"They're not even going to try to distinguish between friend and foe?! These assholes," she spits and immediately begins giving new instructions. As long as it's zone fire, which isn't likely to score any critical hits, all they can do is up their defenses.

"Don't rely on optical deception! Put that energy into your defensive shell! Then pull back for now!"

They abort their strike and turn around. If they had fallen into disarray and gotten separated, her subordinates would have ended up flaming dragonflies. No, even just being too slow would have been bad. If the Imperial Army's computation orbs didn't excel at the mobility and climbing necessary to ascend to greater altitudes, things surely would have turned out poorly.

"They're really putting up a fight… Shit, I never thought we'd fail during a charge."

It's a different era from when we hardly broke a sweat scattering the Principality of Dacia's ranks of infantry. A desperation that says We won't let you come anywhere near us has condensed into thick defensive fusillade coming from the anti-air-guns and MG positions.

Of course, it's possible to hit them with formulas from a long-long distance… but it's undeniable that accuracy and power would be awfully low compared to a closer range. And if we merely pump more mana in to make up for that discrepancy, our fatigue will jump to multiple times' normal. War just isn't simple.

"What a hassle that enemy mages have blocked our charge."

Hard defensive shells, fire that doesn't connect. And when you take the fight into close quarters, they respond with the tactics of dodging like crazy and devoting themselves to defense. So basically, they fill the tank role. I never dreamed I'd be in a war fighting to the death against tanks.

As Tanya is about to fret about what to do, she recalls how important it is to be practical. Getting rid of the tanks will be difficult. In that case, we'll just leave them alone.

"I'd like to torture them to death, but their backup is in the way. Ignore the enemy mages for now."

"What?"

In response to her adjutant's stunned murmur, Tanya grins ferociously. "Let's break through the mages. We'll attack the enemy surface position directly."

"We could end up being vertically pincered! Please reconsider."

"Don't worry," Tanya says boldly in reply to her adjutant's quivering expression. "You know how well those mages can aim. Any numbskull gets hit, it's their own fault. And if they shoot, their misses will rain down below and make less work for us! All right." Tanya raises her voice. "01 to all units. 01 to all units. Ignore the Federation mage unit! I say again, ignore the Federation mage unit! Stick to checking fire as we pass by and concentrate on getting through!"

There's no reason to smash into a fortress like diligent idiots. The tanks are tough but have limited firing capabilities, so we'll just go around them.

But since there's no art to a mere detour, we'll try for the delightful feat of getting the cross-fire lines to overlap so the enemy winds up taking themselves out.

"Let's go, troops! Follow me!"

We get into three strike formations. The way everyone charges at once with a shout of "Let's get 'em!" probably seems as reckless as a bunch of stampeding boars.

The enemy mages bunch together to try to intercept, and that's the moment their luck

runs out. We manifest enough explosion formulas to count as harassment and then launch them to act as a smoke screen. By the time the enemy mages realize, it's too late.

The flight is so smooth, the word gliding seems natural. The 203rd Aerial Mage Battalion's charge is successful. They slip between the Federation mages and the ground positions and are lucky enough to continue their descent.

"God is with us! Troops, let's teach these atheists a thing or two about reality!"

The only disappointing factor is that she is compelled, out of consideration for her safety and results, to boot up the Elinium Type 95. Even if its influence isn't immediate, there's nothing to guarantee there won't be any at all, which is irritating.

"I sympathize with our enemy, that they aren't able to cling to God, even in times like these. No, perhaps they've been spurned and only deny God's existence out of brokenheartedness."

"…Whoa, whoa, Major. I'm not a fan of that sort of chatter." "Huh?"

"It's my personal view, but I'm giving you a warning. Take war seriously." "Do excuse me."

Tanya nods that it's fine, and the unit continues along its strike path. In response, the panicked enemy decides to carry out their prescribed defense plan.

…But that is the worst-possible reaction to an unexpected action.

The Federation surface positions stick to their zone fire. As a result… Tanya sneers with overt glee.

"Ha-ha-ha! This is wonderful! Federation troops are killing one another with stray shots!"

The attacks from the ground run into the altitude the Federation mage unit is flying at, whereas the dive-bombing 203rd Aerial Mage Battalion doesn't get so much as grazed.

Exposed to the dense anti-air fire, the Federation mages can't shift from defense to attack even if they want to. Taking advantage of that opening, it's a simple task to hurl explosion formulas at the anti-air cannon positions.

"Manifest formulas! Hit 'em!"

The explosions cast from so close burst. When you don't even need to seal them in a magic bullet for delivery, the casting speed, area covered, and power are on a whole other level. Mage-covering fire, which can be triggered with perfect timing that even grenades can't match, is the pinnacle of violence in an extreme situation.

"Enemy positions have gone quiet!"

Nodding at her adjutant's report, Tanya raises her voice. "We're going to have guests after us! Let's withdraw a bit!"

"…Tag?"

Tanya smiles at Serebryakov, impressed with her intuition. "Why not? Let's play with them."

The Federation mages with the new computation-orb model have only tough defense. Without interference from any other units, it'll be no problem to slaughter them. If they leave their base to give chase, they'll be done for.

Of course, luring the enemy out is a classic move. So naturally the question comes up whether it's really so clever to stage a fake withdrawal. Commanders from every era and nation have mustered every bit of their cunning in order to make the enemy pursue, but… I suppose we just got lucky?

She's not sure how to take it, but basically they didn't have to do anything. Glancing back to see the enemy giving chase with reckless enthusiasm, it's almost disappointing that her worries were for nothing.

Or did they conveniently misunderstand Tanya and her unit turning around as "fleeing" from them? A party's tank has no business making follow-up attacks, but apparently, the Federation mages don't have enough experience to know what happens when you carelessly follow an enemy.

The moment the 203rd Aerial Mage Battalion takes the only roughly aimed fire, they

pretend to scatter but immediately round about for an assault.

The Federation soldiers thought they were chasing fleeing enemies, so when the situation suddenly changes, precious seconds go by in their hesitation and confusion, and the elites of the Reich close in and attack.

On this point, I have to admit that the Federation soldiers were brave to stand their ground.

They have fought more daringly than Tanya can comprehend. Sadly, strength doesn't come in proportion to will. With the exception of their durable defensive shells, she's hard-pressed to say they'll have much trouble taking care of them.

After a few minutes of mixing it up in the sky, the only ones left in the airspace are the tenacious members of the 203rd Aerial Mage Battalion.

"We've eliminated all the enemy aerial mages, right? Major Weiss, report in on our losses!"

"A few were caught up in an explosion formula. All companies are still combat able, but we have eight injured. The most badly injured is a numbskull who got shot in the ass. As long as he's not sitting in a chair, he'll be fine."

"So even if only lightly, a quarter of our members got hit?"

She decides to swallow her next thought: It sure doesn't feel like we're fighting the Federation Army… They've taken a lot more wear and tear than she imagined they would from assaulting this position. And on top of that, the Federation mages were full of such fight, it made her eyes pop.

…I knew it already, but the Federation Army is growing stronger. Though under siege, the Federation's organized resistance shows no sign of collapsing.

Normally by now, their discipline would be failing with a catastrophic rate of acceleration, so… I'll admit that their stubbornness has increased.

"We may have achieved limited air superiority, but we don't have much time. Just in case enemy reinforcements are on the way, let's do our strike and blow this joint."

"Yes, ma'am! As the documents indicated, the location of a building thought to be

enemy HQ has…" He's about to say been established, but Tanya stops her vice commander and shakes her head.

"No, there's a very good chance that's deception." "What?"

"The enemy's probably waiting for us. I can't see that as anything but a trap."

She truly doesn't want to charge into a danger zone. Her whole heart is against it.

Tanya has no interest in approaching a heavily guarded Federation Army headquarters. The Federation has made remarkable progress in anti-mage combat since the time the battalion attacked Moskva directly. Approaching carelessly could leave them with unimaginable burns.

And in the first place, this is an additional task on top of joining up with the paratrooper rangers at the river crossing. There's no reason we should be worked this hard simply because it's possible.

We could end up Swiss cheese. "Colonel?"

"Federation resistance is tougher than we knew. The headquarters is sure to know what they're doing."

"…Yes, you're right."

"So we can't just be a bull who obediently charges at a red cloth." Tanya works to convince her second-in-command that rushing straight for the Communists' red flag would be risky. "Think about it, Major. Deception is a classic tactic. Expecting the enemy HQ to be incredibly inept is thinking too wishfully."

"So you're saying… they're deceiving us about the location?"

"That's right." Tanya nods firmly. "Is that huge HQ-looking thing really HQ?" she asks rhetorically, as if to say, Surely not.

She's hoping it's not, but she's unsure of the truth. Still, it just has to be reasonable and

probable enough to persuade Weiss.

If the commander in an assault fails, there's no problem at all as long as they make a plausible excuse.

"…Just as idiots and something-or-other are crazy about heights, Communists like standing out. But lately they have more soldiers."

"Understood. So then we'll have to start from the search?"

Tanya replies with an expression that says, Regretfully so. "Make a careful examination of the area. Stay in assault formation and circle around in an effort to search and destroy."

"Got it."

Off goes her second-in-command with a renewed determination. She feels bad for what she's done to him, but since the purpose of the deceit was to keep the losses and fatigue her friends experience to a minimum, her conscience deems it good.

Work should be done with integrity, but it also has to be accomplished within a fair pay grade. Selling your labor for unreasonably low prices only warps the entire labor market to be unfair. The logic is simple. Even ace-level pro baseball players get pressured by their juniors… to push for higher salaries during yearly negotiations.

Since we've already done our original job, and this is just an additional order, Tanya has no reason to try so hard to attack the enemy HQ. Of course, in the interest of self- preservation, she's done the minimum work necessary.

Even if we haven't completely trampled them, since we conducted the assault, we've already carried out the home country's order to "attack enemy HQ directly." Even in the case of the Moskva raid, the true purpose was to achieve strategic results by demonstrating that it was possible to arrive in Moskva and attack.

Decapitation tactics achieve something regardless of whether they succeed or fail.

Locating the enemy, collecting geographical data. She can also say that they held the enemy back. As Tanya is thinking that those things together will make a report, she's hit with unexpected news.

"We found them!"

Grantz's jubilant shout echoes almost surreally as it enters her ears. How can he be happy on a battlefield?

After a moment of genuine fretting, Tanya refocuses with a start. "What?" She gapes. "You found them?!"

This subordinate of hers isn't clever enough to joke around at a time like this. So did they really discover a hidden base?

"Colonel, is there something special about your nose?!"

"Are you trying to get me to say there's a reason they call me a war dog?" "C-Colonel?!"

I'm not saying the lie turned out to be true, but I guess you just never know what is going to happen in life.

"Lieutenant Grantz, if you have time to chitchat, be serious about the war—we're at war. You can't do a proper job if you're screwing around."

Anyone as serious as Tanya can't fathom such a thing as joking around during a war.

-x-X-x-

THE SAME DAY, IN THE AFTERNOON,

IMPERIAL CAPITAL BERUN, IMPERIAL ARMY GENERAL STAFF OFFICE

The Imperial Army's Salamander Kampfgruppe carried out a raid on a Federation Army group headquarters. The first report of it was forwarded via the Eastern Army Group to the General Staff, where everyone was waiting with bated breath for results.

At the first word that the raid was underway, anxious staffers began to gather; the room grew so densely populated that even though it wasn't terribly small, it began to feel cramped.

Is it here yet? How about now? They waited for the next report, guests who were not particularly welcome since, whether consciously or not, they leaned heavily on the

shoulders of the technician clinging to the communications set.

Communications personnel and staff alike wanted to be liberated from this anxiety as soon as possible—it was unbearable. Even if the former wanted to be free from the imposing presences of the staff and the latter, the suspense, waiting as if every second was an hour, was something they undeniably shared.

Nothing yet? Not even now?

Everyone's entire being was shouting with an incoherent voice. And it was in that atmosphere that whenever a telegram arrived from the front lines, the poor duty officer had to shake his head that it wasn't related and somewhat stiffly, perhaps because he was nervous, get the message delivered to the proper department by officer-messenger mail.

For a time, everyone was made antsy by practical messages from the occupation troops up north or the Southern Continent Expeditionary Army Corps or a scheduled check-in to do with the western aerial battles.

The staffers had run out of patience, and the utterly exhausted duty officer was getting sick of their stares, but then he received a message that made his expression change.

Forgetting even the suppressive fire of looks from the sharp officers focused on his face, he ran his bloodshot eyes over the text and then looked up.

"It's from the Kampfgruppe." "What does it say?"

Even if the asker didn't mean to press him, he ended up reading it aloud. "From: the Lergen Kampfgruppe. To: the eastern front and the General Staff. We've attacked them directly. I say again, we've attacked them directly."

A direct attack! They went in on a raid and made a direct attack! The message was short but incredibly clear.

"They carried out an air raid on a number of enemy command personnel, including communications personnel and other facilities. The eastern army is currently assessing the results… Wow, though, they did it."

The room erupted in a cheer—"Whoooo!"—and Lieutenant General von Zettour, who was observing from a distance in a corner of the room, nodded at Colonel Uger in a not-dissatisfied way.

"That's why I call her a hunting dog."

"Yes, it's well said, sir. She really did a great job."