CHAPTER - III

JUNE 10, UNIFIED YEAR 1927, EASTERN FRONT B GROUP HEADQUARTERS

"U-urgent message from the Lergen Kampfgruppe! Soldim 528 is suddenly surrounded by extremely powerful Federation units!"

In order to contain their encroaching enemies, the Federation Army launched an offensive in response to the commencement of Andromeda, and ensuing movements of A Group to capture southern cities was not unexpected.

Everyone in B Group Headquarters crinkled their brows and clicked their tongues in their heads, vexed that their worst predictions had come true.

As soon as they got the report, several murmured, "Here they come…," and swept their eyes over the map, but as they scanned the defensive lines looking for Soldim 528, they were momentarily confused.

"It's not on the Melting Line?!"

HQ had expected the enemy to advance down the broad, convenient highway.

For that reason, they had committed all their limited resources to what they assumed would be the main battlefield, what they had taken to calling the "Melting Line." The staff officers of B Group were now realizing that their predictions had been completely wrong.

There was no sign of Soldim 528 along the anticipated route. Instead, after poring over the map…they could hardly believe their eyes when they

found it in a sparsely defended area far from the main road. It was a tiny little bridgehead on a barely operating railway.

"What the hell? Shit! Why there?"

Are you serious? The route was that astonishing. Given that the attack was coming from an unexpected direction, the shock and embarrassment of the B Group staffers were severe.

"Are we ordering the defending group to fall back?!" "No! It's too late! They're already surrounded!"

All the staff officers had to admit it: The Federation Army had gotten the best of them. They weren't unwilling to admit when they'd been taken completely by surprise. But even so…all the high-ranking officers spat in amazement, "Surrounded?! How is that possible?!"

This was the eastern front.

Not the jungle, not some rugged mountain region, not the Norden border zone with its notoriously poor visibility. While the vicinity of Soldim 528 had a tendency to become swampy, it was flat, open ground typical of the battlefields in the east.

The enemy had done something truly unexpected.

But that didn't explain how the defending unit got surrounded so easily. Whoever was on watch should have detected the enemy's approach. It would have been one thing if the first report had been about the enemy heading their way, but reporting in that they were encircled was bizarre. Could it even be possible for Soldim 528 to be surrounded without warning unless all the troops were napping?

It's out of the question for a modern army to overlook the movements of a major enemy force. Aerial recon by plane and observer mages keeping watch over the ground had long since become standard practice, so what could possibly explain this…?

A few of the staffers were of a mind to conclude that the surrounded unit was simply a bunch of idiots, but when they confirmed the name of the unit, they shook their heads in disbelief and had to laugh at the ludicrous situation.

If the seasoned and decorated Lergen Kampfgruppe couldn't be considered competent, then who could? Unable to comprehend the situation, everyone began to yell.

"Why is the Lergen Kampfgruppe surrounded?!"

"Why Colonel von Lergen?!"

"What were the sentries and men on watch doing?!" "Why didn't the aerial mages detect them?!"

Amid the uproar of crisscrossing shouts, one man looked on with disinterest.

It was Lieutenant General von Zettour, who, it was whispered, had been demoted and exiled from Central. He was the only one present who maintained his usual composure as he stood to address the room.

"Gentlemen, discussion is all well and good. But this isn't a university— we should be debating what to do." He appealed to honor and reason to dispel the turmoil. "The enemy advanced down a route you didn't anticipate. As a result, your troops have been surrounded. We have no choice but to act… If we accept the reality of our situation, then we have no choice but to save the Lergen Kampfgruppe." Surveying the eastern army staffers, Zettour emphasized his conclusion. "The only thing to debate right now is how to help them. How should the rescue be conducted? That's all."

Their fellow soldiers were encircled, so they needed to be saved. It was an extremely simple line of thought.

Any soldier, especially any officer entrusted with the lives of other soldiers, would have a hard time openly disagreeing with such a statement. And above all, HQ had to make up for their misreading of the situation.

"Please wait, General." "What is it?"

"Sending relief under these conditions? I'm sure you know this, but the General Staff gave us strict orders to focus on a passive defense. And more importantly, we don't have any soldiers to spare…"

"That's not quite right."

The B Group staffers tried to argue that it wasn't feasible, but Zettour drove his point home.

"The strict orders the General Staff gave you are to defend the lines. The mission is to hold the lines; it doesn't restrict your movement."

"But please take into consideration how few troops we have!"

"I'm fully aware that our numbers are less than ideal, but without any alternatives, we have no choice… As far as I can see, we should resolve this with a strike of surgical precision. Seems to me like this calls for a concentrated deployment of our reserves, no?"

"Y-y-you mean all the reserves?"

His response to the hesitation was definitive. "That's right. Obviously." He continued, "We can't abandon our troops."

"I think ordering them to withdraw under their own power and supporting as we're able is enough. As long as we lack the troops to mount a major operation to break the encirclement…"

"Is that a roundabout admission that you learned nothing from the staff officer curriculum?" Zettour furrowed his brow as if he'd spotted an insufferable fool. "You would order a unit that has found itself under siege due to their superiors' errors to withdraw on their own? Let me ask you something. What did they teach you at war college?"

This was an elementary concept in basic leadership. Not sending out a rescue when you could has far-reaching adverse effects in the military.

"Are you really saying that after sending matériel to the Melting Line on a mistaken assumption, you're going to do nothing but watch as the troops at the Soldim position get slaughtered? You can't tell me you don't know why the high-ranking General Staff officers who emptied the Rhine front to send the Great Army up north were demoted."

You can't quantify intangible assets such as fighting spirit, morale, or trust in the organization. Human souls are the same. They're not something that can be seen. But can you call someone without one human?

As a group of humans, armies are no exception.

And a blunder made by command is like a nasty flu. It eats away at the entire army. And absurdity is even worse than a blunder. What would happen if instead of rescuing a unit they could save, HQ told them to make it back on their own? Overnight, they'd have an uncontrollable army on their hands.

The issue of whether to leave the Lergen Kampfgruppe isolated or rescue them was the choice between essentially killing the army or fighting through a path of thorns.

"Abandoning them to die amounts to negligence on the part of the commanders. It would cause the trust in the chain of command that makes up our army to rot away," Zettour spat in exasperation.

It had to be one of the two; a choice had to be made. Any fool who would choose the suicide of the military in this situation did more harm than good by being in the army, and the only cure for that was a firing

squad.

"Are you trying to turn our disciplined troops into a pitiful, frightened mob overnight?"

The staff curriculum polished staff officers' ability to be vicious, but the assumption was that it would be used against the enemy. They couldn't entertain the option of abandoning a friendly unit that was possible to save.

"…If nothing else, you at least have to act like you're intent on saving them. And in this case, being effective is more important than projecting an attitude. I don't think any of us wants to be known far and wide as the Imperial Army command that abandoned its troops in the east." Wearing an openly nasty smile, Zettour carefully observed the gathered staffers, overawing them.

Abandoning the troops to their fate would irrevocably damage trust. Building up trust again would require time they didn't have, but it would take only a single mistake to destroy it so thoroughly that there wouldn't even be dust left behind.

"I'm sure the Federation Army would eagerly share that news with the Council for Self-Government. Giving them propaganda material is as good as aiding the enemy."

If you join in the Empire's fight, you'll be forsaken. Surely, all the fighting countries would be shocked. They also had to watch out for the Commonwealth whispering to the Council for Self-Government.

If the enemy made the same error—honestly, Zettour wished they would

—he would happily use it in the propaganda war.

Most critically, the Council for Self-Government's counterintelligence situation was not great, even speaking generously. If they lost trust in the Empire that was suppressing their unrest, it wasn't logical to expect them to keep a lid on their paranoia.

If Federation moles worked behind the scenes to further exploit that… the Empire would have to be ready for the Council for Self-Government to flip sides. The issue was a serious dilemma.

In order to reduce obvious crackdowns in the occupied territory and maintain public order and stability, the Council for Self-Government tended not to look into the personal history of the people they employed. If they did, their government would necessarily end up being unforgiving. They needed a moderate compromise.

Indeed, given the aim of the policy to secure friendly, anti-Federation territories, there wasn't really an option to remove suspicious individuals. So inevitably, Federation agents would creep in.

Of course, they were already exercising the utmost caution under that assumption… Casting a wide net tended to catch some unsavory elements.

It was impossible to be certain with only a couple of pieces of supporting evidence, but…there was even some suspicion that a Commonwealth Intelligence agent had infiltrated the theater of operations.

There was simply too much intel leaking. They had spotted what appeared to be a case of leaked classified messages sent between the diplomats dispatched nominally as a delegation to the Council for Self- Government.

Analysis to determine whether imperial codes had been broken or not came out definitively negative.

Even if one transmission or cipher was broken, as long as they were changing the codes regularly and continually working to improve its strength, the communications security team guaranteed that it couldn't be compromised.

If it wasn't the code, then that left only the people. And sickeningly enough, their enemies in the Commonwealth were unusually skilled at HUMINT. Of course, it was always the case that the intelligence agencies of hostile states wanted to burrow their way in…but there was no reason to give more intel to the fellows who seemed to have mouths only so they could leak more things to the enemy.

Zettour shook his head, clearing away extraneous thoughts, and reemphasized his intentions to the staff officers of the eastern army's B Group. "I'll get straight to the point. Based on political necessity and military rationale, I urge you to take immediate action. I request that we break the encirclement with a maneuver battle."

His comment hit the room like a bomb. It was a request backed by nothing but vague authority. Under normal circumstances, it would be easy to ignore or refuse.

Yet, problematically, his refrain of We mustn't abandon our troops struck most of them as extremely logical and valid.

"Oh, and if an inspector's word isn't enough for you…you can add on the voice of the deputy chief of the Service Corps. By the power vested in

me by the General Staff, I request immediate action to prevent any negative influence on the Council for Self-Government."

The air froze.

All the staffers locked their gazes on Zettour with eyes that made it seem as if they'd just been walloped over the head. The only thing that kept them from blurting out Are you insane? was their last remaining crumbs of reason.

Though shock had shattered their rationality, it could be scraped back together. They were able to barely—just barely—maintain the facade of composure social animals have.

"…With all due respect, General, do you understand what you're…?" For better or worse, well-trained soldiers have powerful self-control.

That's all well and good, but from Zettour's point of view, they were overly pessimistic and lacked assertiveness.

"You want to call me an idiot, right? Then don't hold back. I'm fairly certain that I'm not inept, lacking self-awareness, or unintelligent enough to not comprehend what I myself said."

Zettour was in the special position of having the ceremonial title of inspector but also retaining his position as the deputy chief of the Service Corps in the General Staff. A "request" from someone with both those titles would require an awful lot of resolve to refuse.

Of course, Supreme Command would be disgruntled. They purposely didn't give Zettour authority so things like this would happen…so if this ended badly, it would become a huge problem.

But honestly, Zettour didn't care. Some wagers are meant to be made regardless of the odds.

"Now then, I think that took care of your hesitation… Was there anything else?"

Zettour must have managed to acquire his reputation as a mild academic due to always being paired with Lieutenant General von Rudersdorf, who was overly aggressive, and Lieutenant Colonel von Degurechaff, whose underlings could rush headlong into battle at the drop of a hat. He smiled wryly to himself to think that ultimately, it was a relative assessment.

Oh, how people change depending on their environment!

Amused, though his expression didn't change, he spoke again. "Put another way, this is a great chance. The enemy is here. They waltzed right

into our grasp. Every military man's eternal dream is to annihilate the enemy field army. Then why don't we take advantage of this and pull off our own encirclement to crush them?"

Overpowered by the strength residing in Zettour's eyes as he grinned, the staffers nearly began to nod, but apparently their badges weren't just for show, either.

A few puzzled officers piped up, albeit timidly.

"General, it may be disrespectful of me to say so, but…you seem awfully relaxed. Is there some secret to being so unflappable?"

Implied between the lines was their suspicion that the conversation was proceeding a bit too neatly.

And in reality, Zettour's way of leading them to the answer with no concern for the fog of war stemmed from a trick.

It didn't seem like he had predicted where the enemy would come from and just happened to have a backup plan ready for them.

That could only mean…

But then, if they didn't sense something was off, he would have had to lament their naïveté. An unsuspecting staff officer is immature. Without the superior coordination skills and discriminating intellect of someone like Lieutenant Colonel Uger, a staffer was liable to be disposed of.

"Just experience and preparation."

The word preparation caused eyes to widen throughout the room. In addition to the slight tension in the air, a hint of wariness appeared. Apparently, they weren't all timid.

"Could it be that the Lergen Kampfgruppe is…?"

"A pawn to buy time? I won't go so far as to deny it," Zettour answered with a little smile, partially relieved. Yes, your vague suspicions are correct.

Let's get straight to the facts.

The Empire had gathered its main forces on the southern edge of the eastern front. The idea was careful selection and concentration, but stripping away units and resources was allowed in the case of scarcity. That's why the rest of the eastern front was supposed to limit itself to nothing but defending what they held. Zettour and the staff of the eastern army were all aware of this.

"General, do you mean to overrule the existing defensive policy on your own authority?"

"That's a nasty way to interpret it." "But there's no other explanation!"

"While you were all looking to the right, I was on guard against the left

—that's all. The Lergen Kampfgruppe got surrounded to clean up your mess!"

"General, how can you say that?"

He had just been posted to the eastern front, and nothing he said had been enough to convince them. His only other option was to force Degurechaff to stake her life on the defense of Soldim 528.

Slightly irritated, Zettour snapped, "Oh, it's not very hard. After all, we've been tasked with defending a vast amount of territory despite being desperately outnumbered. Attempting a textbook defense is a pipe dream. That's why the Lergen Kampfgruppe is out there drawing the enemy attack!"

"S-so you're saying…they got surrounded on purpose?"

"I imagine it's a voluntary decision of self-sacrifice. I know Colonel von Lergen personally to some extent—he's an Operations man."

Strictly speaking, it was a she and not at all voluntary, but… When it came down to it, Zettour was sure Lieutenant Colonel Degurechaff would be faithful to her duty. Once he gave the order, he was confident she would work her troops to the bone.

The deception was ridiculous, but it was also simply reality that there were very few people who would refuse to conduct a rescue after being given that explanation.

"The colonel must have felt he couldn't let the vulnerable lines be overrun and made a tactical call. If they withdraw, the enemy will come flooding in. Then we will lose the initiative. He simply couldn't stand by and watch that happen," Zettour said coldly, implying that thinking at the operational level, a passive defense wouldn't be enough. "Now then, gentlemen, I'll ask you again… If the enemy is here, and our troops are in a pinch, shouldn't we go out to meet them?"

"But, General!"

"We don't have the supplies or the troops for an offensive. We've barely managed to fortify the defensive lines as is!"

The high-ranking officers argued back wearing grim expressions.

And Zettour had no trouble imagining how the staffers of the eastern

army felt as they voiced their fears.

After all, there weren't enough troops. It was too great a risk to sally out to attempt a local offensive. If this were a test on textbook strategy, or as far as was taught at the academy, they would have passed.

But unfortunately, this wasn't a controlled environment.

The prewar education of officers would have cut this out as an "extreme situation" that "would never happen in practice." And thinking rationally, yes, of course, anyone with a proper brain would scoff at the idea of war for the sake of war, continued fighting for the sake of continued fighting.

But at this point, it was impossible to laugh.

"It won't do to spread our troops thin and get skewered by the enemy vanguard. If that foolish move is our only other option, then we might as well gather up what little we have and swing them as a club."

"General…"

"I'll make the request again. The request is for you to consider and come up with a rescue plan. It's fine to be cautious, but I expect you to give me a proposal before our friends get wiped out."

-x-X-x-

JUNE 14, UNIFIED YEAR 1927, THE EASTERN FRONT

In official Imperial Army documents, Soldim 528 is classified as a medium- size forward base. Originally, it was a planned city and a base for the maintenance of Federation rolling stock.

The Imperial Army occupied it during their advance following the successful Operation Iron Hammer, but troops were pulled away during the run-up to Operation Andromeda to take part in A Group's offensive, so the place was practically deserted. Frankly, Soldim 528 was a nonessential base out in the sticks…as it should have been.

If the enemy hadn't shown up, Soldim 528 would've been a breezy posting in the backcountry. Instead, it's currently under siege. The leader of the staff providing the hospitality for this deluge of unwelcome customers,

Lieutenant Colonel Tanya von Degurechaff, is woken up from a light nap by First Lieutenant Serebryakov.

"…It's time, Colonel."

Directing her vacant eyes toward the clock, she sees it's time to change shifts.

I would've liked to savor a bit more idle slumber, but that's obviously not an option here.

"Got it. Good work, Lieutenant."

During a siege battle, the commander ends up busy no matter what. Since command can't be left to someone running on no sleep, Tanya has been making time for it as much as possible, but there's only so much she can do.

As Serebryakov burrows into her bed, Tanya rubs her tired eyes and heads for the semi-submerged bunker functioning as their command post.

"Time to swap out, Major Weiss. I'll take command."

"Thank you. No major enemy actions to report. They appear to be positioning units for an attack."

As they have their handoff exchange, Tanya wishes her adjutant wasn't asleep. A cup of coffee would perk me up about now…

She shakes her head and moves on.

"What industrious foes we have. Though I'm thankful for the time to get ready, these guys seem to enjoy picking on the weak—and they seem intent on bullying us with their large numbers. I understand the tastes of the John Bulls all right, but why are the Commies hopping on the bandwagon?"

She meant it as a light joke, but Weiss merely winces politely, maintaining his silence.

"Honestly, these international Communists. They could at least pretend to be pacifists."

"Colonel, you don't really think…?"

"I don't, but isn't it natural that I want them to take their official stance seriously?"

Just as Weiss is about to nod his agreement…

The report of a single cannon rings out in the distance.

It's a familiar sound to us all. Aside from those who drifted off into eternal slumber, who on the eastern front could forget the sound of Federation heavy artillery?

"…Sorry, but prepare for war." "Yes, ma'am, right away."

"Get everybody up! Here they come!"

Ever since the trench battles of the Rhine, it has been standard to wake everyone if the enemy shows up.

And all across Soldim 528, the troops curse the alarm clock of enemy artillery—We were just changing shifts!—jump out of bed, and man their positions.

"…So the enemy doesn't have the resources to rain a storm of shells down on us, either? Good. The battalion will fight for aerial superiority and intercept the enemy mages."

"Who's in command?"

Tanya responds to Weiss's nervous inquiry with a smile. "Don't worry; I'm not leaving you out. I'm going to let Captain Meybert do it like last time. The artillery doesn't have anything to do, so let him take command."

"It's an honor."

Where did that reserved demeanor from before go? Apparently, judging by this warmonger's ferocious carnivore-like grin, he enjoys being on the front lines. I took him out to strike at the enemy position earlier, but apparently, he wasn't satisfied… Frankly, I can't comprehend being happy about learning that I won't be staying behind at the command post.

But this is war.

The front lines need people like him.

"Okay, Major Weiss, you're up. Captain Meybert, keep doing what you've been doing. I'll grab Lieutenant Serebryakov and round up the battalion… If you're late, we're leaving without you."

"I'll be ready."

With a salute, he hurriedly grabs a receiver. Tanya leaves him, dashing out of the bunker to head for the square on the base designated as the battalion's marshaling point.

Everyone is already there. It's impressive no matter how many times you see it.

The absence of First Lieutenant Grantz's company and the presence of First Lieutenant Wüstemann's has already become something familiar. And it seems Serebryakov has managed to make it on time as well.

Setting aside the officers, however… Did some of them literally just

wake up? A few of the mages have awful bed head. Tanya always firmly insists that paying minimal attention to appearance is a fundamental part of being a member of civilized society, but it's never clear-cut whether it's best to let this sort of thing slide in the case of an enemy attack.

"All units are present, ma'am!" "Thank you, Lieutenant Serebryakov."

As they exchange mechanical salutes, I internally fret about how to give this particular advice. Fires or earthquakes are unforeseen, so some slack is acceptable, but during wartime, an enemy attack doesn't just come out of nowhere… It's a serious question whether Tanya should lower her standards or not.

I also have to wonder if this is really the time to be thinking about this sort of thing. But even if "a sloppy uniform betrays a sloppy mind" is a bit of nonsense, neglecting one's appearance is a slippery slope for civilized individuals.

Faced with uncivilized Commies and the anti-civilization Being X, I, as modern citizen Tanya, do ultimately feel the need to say something.

"Troops, I get the sense many of you just woke up. I think our battalion is fairly strict about appearances…but apparently, the enemy artillery mixed up the timing of their morning wake-up call." Aware that snapping at them would be unreasonable, Tanya points out the issue in a roundabout way while making them laugh with a little joke. "Even if a visitor is unexpected, you can't very well go to greet them in your pajamas, right? Take care to dress yourselves like civilized individuals."

Small habits lead to big differences. Heinrich's Law is practically a rule of thumb, but that doesn't make it any less correct. Humans are always haunted by limits. In order to push those limits and achieve a high-average performance, Tanya requires her subordinates to abide by regulations at all times.

Habit is truly the golden rule for success.

"All right, Lieutenant Serebryakov, Lieutenant Wüstemann. Major Weiss should be here shortly, but to fill you in, we're going to intercept the enemy mages. We'll do it just like we did on the Rhine."

Tanya briefs the officers on the situation. Really, it's just a formal confirmation of the notification she got from Weiss…but there's meaning in doing these checks.

Deviating from standard procedure often results in laziness.

That said, Tanya smiles at her trustworthy subordinates; I'm sure there's no need to worry about these veterans.

"Lieutenant Serebryakov, this is business as usual." "Yes, ma'am, business as usual."

"…And as usual, I can rest easy knowing you're here."

This is just praising her accumulated experience. Serebryakov must not be used to getting complimented, and Tanya winces at her puzzled expression.

Her praise not getting through to her people is an oversight.

As a young child reading a biography of Nightingale, I didn't really understand why she said that her last remaining nurse in Crimea was worth more than gold, but now it makes perfect sense. It's just what you would expect from a great reformer who contributed so much to the field of statistics. Human capital has value whether you're a nurse or a military officer—indeed, it has universal value regardless of profession.

In that sense, Serebryakov has most definitely accumulated human capital greater than, as Nightingale put it, the value of her weight in gold.

"…Don't look at me like you find that strange. It may not always seem like it, but I do rely on you."

"Th-thank you, ma'am!"

I should find a good time to arrange a thank-you gift. Tanya makes a mental note to get ahold of some chocolate or something in the rear.

The real problem is… Tanya turns to face the commander of the replacement company who seems to have relaxed substantially since his first battle.

"Lieutenant Wüstemann: Don't overdo it. For starters, just follow me.

I'll make sure you come out all right." "Understood!"

For better or worse, the eager fellow is a green company commander. Though he has combat experience, he's still far from the point where he can be trusted to do things on his own, at least by Tanya's standards.

That said, even the hardheaded First Lieutenant Tospan turned out to have his uses.

In terms of raw materials, it's not as if Wüstemann is inferior, so as long as Tanya makes proper use of him, he won't be worthless.

Young personnel lack experience, but they make up for it with enthusiasm. What they need is the appropriate education. On that point, Tanya has some modest confidence in her results. As the educator who cultivated Serebryakov and Grantz, surely it's her right to be proud of her skills.

All Wüstemann needs is a little bit of time and attention to reason. "I like that attitude, Lieutenant."

"Thank you, ma'am!"

"Here's something you should know, Lieutenant: War often comes down not to scoring the highest points but having the best average. It's easier to survive if you grind down your weaknesses. That's what you should work on."

"I see—I'll keep that in mind, ma'am."

Tanya nods in satisfaction. It's rare for someone to be so genuine. "Sorry I kept you waiting, Colonel."

"There you are, Major. We nearly left without you."

I sense a measure of ease in the way he jokingly pleads for mercy. You really can rely on personnel who have experience.

"This'll work out just fine. I'll keep an eye on Lieutenant Wüstemann.

The rest are yours, Major Weiss. We're going to intercept the enemy."

It's rough to wage war while needing to look out for your allies. It's reminiscent of on-the-job training for new employees. But in a war, people's lives are on the line. It's fine if I have the leeway to cover for them, but… Tanya is constantly compelled to be miserable.

This is why it hurts so much to lose Grantz's company—to the point that I can't help but complain in my head. With all due respect, General von Zettour, curse you.

"What shall I do, ma'am?"

"Lieutenant Serebryakov, you'll do the same as me. Support Lieutenant Wüstemann." Tanya responds to her adjutant, swallowing her other thought

—You can never have too much backup—as she guides the battalion into the sky after their skillful takeoff.

The fundamental task of achieving air superiority is about gaining altitude—though ascending isn't so simple when enemy mages are coming to attack.

Is the enemy taking their time for some reason? I can't help but wonder

when we're allowed to go up in formation rather than scramble while being harassed.

"…There's too much time between the artillery fire and the charge.

Were the guns not calibrated?"

If nothing else, this is a good chance to test the replacement company's combat discipline—something I've been anxious about.

The fact that they're managing, just barely, to operate their Elinium Arms Type 97 Assault Computation Orbs and maintain stable flight makes Tanya emotional.

At the same time, it sends a chill up her spine.

"So it's a war of amateurs against amateurs, huh? We're wasting way too much human capital…"

The poor versus the poor, and on top of that, amateurs versus amateurs.

The war is becoming about as total as it can get.

In the prewar Imperial Army, the training for aerial mages met such standards that even a newly minted mage could be entrusted to do artillery observation on their own. Now, as exemplified by nearly getting shot at mistakenly the other day, the situation has deteriorated to the point where we instead have no choice but to entrust newly minted mages with the job.

There's no time for a proper education. The veterans who would provide it have been sent to the front lines. As a result, the baby chicks get sent to the front with their training incomplete and hustled off into a turkey shoot.

The evil cycle of attrition is complete. If there's anything we can do at the local level, it's to secure a decent retention—that is, survival—rate. Yes, I need to do everything in my power to ensure the continued existence of my meat shields. Tanya takes out her binoculars, does a quick scan of the sky, and begins observing the enemy's movements.

"…They're certainly going by the book."

Climb while forming up in midair, then meet the enemy. Both sides will face off, maintaining a certain number of troops on the front.

Compared to our formation, the Federation one seems to have more personnel more closely packed together.

The Imperial Army can almost never compete with the Federation's when it comes to sheer quantity of resources, but in the realm of magic, where the Federation shot itself in the foot, the Empire had managed to maintain qualitative and quantitative superiority for quite some time. Now,

though, it seems that the numerical balance is shifting toward equilibrium. "…The Federation's no slouch."

What a deplorable state of affairs.

I have little distaste for beating on weaker enemies, but competing against an evenly matched opponent is far from pleasant. It's always better if you can finish a job with minimal effort, let alone a war. What a terrible situation this has become.

"Enemy fire!"

In response to the warning, Tanya follows the usual protocol and orders the counterattack. "01 to all units, return fire!"

Since it's extremely long-range, the fire is concentrated optical sniper formulas. That said, the tyranny of distance wreaks merciless havoc on the accuracy and power of the incoming fire.

As we need to pay attention to our remaining formula bullets, both sides are just taking potshots at each other—what a headache.

"Tch! The distance makes this hardly worth th—" Mid-gripe about the wastefulness, Tanya spots a dramatic shift in the enemy movements. "Ngh?! The Commie mages are rushing us?!"

They've broken their battle line, or left formation entirely, for a reckless strike. It's like a runaway charge.

"Did they lose control? How could their discipline get so…?"

Wüstemann's uneasy comment gives Tanya pause. It's too soon for command to fall into disarray and their formation to collapse. She's heard the rumors that long-range firefights grate on the nerves of rookies, but even so, the enemy can't have suffered that many losses yet.

"Did their recruits get restless…? It's known to happen, but…" Tanya is glaring at the enemy, deep in thought, knowing that something isn't right, when she suddenly shouts, "No!"

They began their charge after we formed up in the sky! This is bad!

"Move! We gotta get out of here!" Tanya shouts without regard for appearances.

"Huh?"

But she's met with Wüstemann's hesitation and confusion. How can you be so dense?! We're above friendly units. We did the same thing to the Federation Army, so how could you forget?!

In a rare fit of lost composure, Tanya shrieks at her unit. "01 to all units!

Accelerate to full speed! Don't let this turn into a melee over our base!"

It's an abrupt order, but Weiss's company grasps her intentions and begins to charge. Serebryakov follows so as not to let them pull ahead and become isolated.

If they were to get into a scuffle with the enemy above the imperial position, the potential for stray shots impacting below would jump considerably. We can't have someone accidentally blow up our own troops with a misfired formula, and though we want support from below, if our allies down there start shooting now, we're liable to get hit.

In a battle where direct fire support is available, having the enemy swoop in for hand-to-hand combat is basically a nightmare.

So we need to get out front. "Th-they're headed this way!!"

It's precisely because Tanya feels the enemy got the better of them that she can't stand to waste any time at this juncture. Wüstemann's frantic voice irks her.

"I know! Handle it!"

"Then disciplined fire should…"

No! Do I really need to shout at him again? Trying to fight a war with subordinates who are slow on the uptake is such insanity!

"Don't stop, Wüstemann! They're rushing us! That means we have to charge! Go! Got it? We're going to slam into them and force them back!"

Even elites hesitate when they're taken by surprise, so of course officers and mages with little experience are liable to be overwhelmed.

That's why it's important to give clear orders and show them what needs to be done.

"Charge! Go, go, go!"

It's an abrupt order, but the replacement company just barely manages to keep up with the rest of the 203rd Aerial Mage Battalion on the charge and crash into the enemy.

"Don't get bogged down! Keep climbing and don't let them get near our forces on the ground!"

Keeping in mind that our advantage comes from orb performance at high altitudes, Tanya orders her troops to ascend. But then she's met with something that completely floors her.

The intention was to climb and mock the enemy from above, but we can't shake them.

"The enemy's keeping up at eight thousand?! Of all the—I didn't think they would climb so high!"

This can't be happening. Tanya has to swallow that comment—the scene in front of her refutes it all too eloquently. It's difficult to believe, but the Federation mages, who were always low-altitude specialists, have followed us as a unit up to the same airspace to force us into a dogfight.

They've reached not only quantitative parity but qualitative as well? That's hard to stomach. Nonetheless, these guys who shouldn't be any good at hand-to-hand combat are closing in on us at altitude.

"01 to all units! Climb to twelve thousand! I realize that's asking a lot, but… Wait! I take that back! Cancel that! Maintain altitude at eight thousand!" Right as Tanya is about to order everyone up to their maximum operational altitude, she realizes at the last possible second that it's a mistake and retracts it in a hurry.

Normally, having them ascend would be the right decision. But not now—not this time.

The replacement company isn't even used to the Type 97s yet; they haven't done the necessary altitude acclimation training. I have serious doubts whether they would physically be able to go that high. This isn't the time to try taking advantage of altitude differences.

"Maintain your current altitude and coordinate to cover one another! 02, you're a trapper! Go after the enemies targeting our newer arrivals!" As she's about to continue with an order to take aim, Tanya notices black specks in the sky. Yes, multiple.

It takes her only a minute to realize what she's found. "Enemy planes?! Break! Counterattack!"

At the same moment she shouts, the enemy mages who had been relentlessly hounding them begin pulling away all at once.

Hurtling toward the bunched-up mages are enemy aircraft—fighter planes. I'm not about to let someone shoot at me with a cannon—the concentrated automatic fire of a heavy, high-caliber cannon, at that.

-x-X-x-

[Image]

-x-X-x-

What comes next happens in a flash.

The 203rd Aerial Mage Battalion responds to this unexpected new attack with a promptness worthy of their veteran status.

Each mage performs random evasive maneuvers as they fire explosion formulas to obstruct the vision of the enemy fighter pilots.

This is probably the ideal speed at which a unit taken by surprise can react. No one becomes the General Staff's pet project by bluster alone. It requires the strength to pry challenges open as they arise, pin them down, and break through.

"Casualty report!" "Minimal casualties!"

Such a pleasant reply from Serebryakov.

Not that the enemy scoring on us doesn't sting, but the fact that we didn't suffer many losses cancels that feeling out somewhat. I can be proud of my successful investments in education and human capital.

Tanya's cheeks are about to relax into a smile as she scans the sky, when her expression tenses all over again.

Standing still would've provided the enemy fighter planes with perfect targets, so everyone resorted to erratic evasive maneuvers and deploying explosion formulas. However, this has left the unit too spread out.

The formation is collapsing!

"Stick with your wingman! The enemy's coming in fast!"

The sight makes Tanya want to click her tongue. The other units are fine, but Wüstemann's company is so slow, she could just die of fury.

"Watch out for fire from below! Shit, what the hell?! The Commies have really gotten good at harassing people!"

"I mean, they're Commies!"

"What about it?!" Tanya shoots back without thinking. And her adjutant's reply is epically witty…or perhaps it's meant completely seriously.

"Didn't you yourself say that's how they are, ma'am?"

"Ahhh, yeah, you're right. I guess it makes sense that they would learn how to do what people hate even in a war." Holding back the urge to click her tongue, Tanya acknowledges the enemy's skill. As her troops scatter, climbing in an attempt to drive off the enemy mages that won't let them get a decent shot off, the Federation fighter planes return to the scene.

The enemy aircraft stick to hit-and-run tactics, emptying their automatic cannons and then swiftly withdrawing.

The altitudes and speeds involved are so different from our own that counterattacking is nearly impossible. What's more, we have company from below—and not just a follow-up attack.

But that's all it is.

As far as I know, there's no logic or reason that makes continued failure inevitable. I never give up. Mistakes simply need to be recovered from.

Tanya takes a small but deep breath.

Steeling her determination, she shouts, "What a bunch of heroes, coming to challenge us to close-quarters combat! These Federation fellows must really love magic blades, so fill their stomachs with them until they've had enough!"

Of course it's Weiss, the practiced vanguard, who volunteers to lead. "Permission to proceed as usual…?"

"Granted. Go!"

He hardly gets out a "Yes, ma'am" before he's zooming off to fight. This is what it means to be on the same wavelength.

"Company, follow me! Charge!"

"Give them support!" Tanya urges Wüstemann's company to move. "Three rounds of covering fire!"

The fact that they manage to fire properly, despite the rush, probably means they're finally growing accustomed to live combat.

As long as I can trust them not to misfire, it'll be fine to dedicate them to a support role.

"Wüstemann! Keep it up! But no need to fire for no reason!" "Understood!"

His acknowledgments are acceptable, if nothing else.

No, it's not nice to be spiteful just because they lack experience. Experience can be earned. Failing to distinguish between a lack of ability and a lack of experience is hardly fair. And for Tanya, being fair is a given.

Maybe being on the battlefield for so long has made me combative. It could also be the stress of General von Zettour's unreasonable defend-it- with-your-life order.

"This isn't what I need to be thinking about right now."

Tanya shakes her head lightly to clear out the extraneous thoughts and

refocuses on combat. The timing is perfect. The enemy is busy with Weiss's charge…and the rest of us are in striking formation.

It's time. Tanya looks to her adjutant. "Lieutenant Serebryakov, we're going to follow Weiss with our own charge. This isn't any different from usual, but…watch my six. Be especially on the lookout for enemy airplanes that might come barging in."

"Yes, ma'am."

"Okay, here we go. Everyone, on me!" Accelerate, accelerate, and accelerate some more.

The Type 97 isn't called an assault computation orb for no reason. The designers at Elinium Arms are nuts, but strangely, their technological prowess keeps pace with their outrageous ideas.

It's only natural to give the enemy a thorough beating while they're overwhelmed by approaching at full combat speed—the standard air battle method. After Weiss's unit breaks off, the enemy mages are hanging around in a daze, so we attack all at once from above.

When they notice us, they abruptly raise their defenses, but their reaction is sluggish.

"Hmph, that was slow."

It happens just as Tanya's zeroed in her rifle and is about to pull the trigger to deliver a formula. She nearly licks her lips, eager to score another kill, when an unexpected shot from her flank hits her defensive shell hard, forcing her to change course.

The Commies lured us out?! "…A trapper?"

Tanya grinds her teeth in spite of herself. By the time it's clear we've been had, the enemy mage blows past Serebryakov's suppressive fire like it's nothing.

Support won't make it in time, but Tanya's in no position to withdraw, either.

"Fucking hell!"

She puts a hard bend in her flight path to change directions. To ward off the enemy coming up on her flank, Tanya opens fire with her submachine gun.

Aware that her magazine is empty, she tries to gain some distance and strains the high-precision Type 97 Assault Computation Orb to accelerate as

fast as possible.

"Colonel! Are you all right?!" "Nothing to worry about!"

She comes very close to being shot two times…but it's not bad enough that the Type 95 needs to come out.

If you concentrate, the Type 97 developed by that miserable, obnoxious mad scientist can deploy a defensive shell that's able to take some hits, just like the new Federation Army model.

"Neither we nor our orbs are lousy enough to get shot down like that!" Tanya barks at her subordinates, but inside, she feels exactly the opposite.

There's no way to hide the shock from being taken by surprise so completely.

A Federation mage moving faster than her in close-quarters combat is enough to make me consider this a paradigm shift.

What would the enemy mage have done to Tanya just now if she hadn't had a submachine gun that could fire a hail of bullets?

"…Tch. Man, I really hate these guys."

After just barely slipping away, Tanya turns back to observe the enemy.

Between the rapid approaches and interlocking fire, there's usually little point in distinguishing between the faces of the enemy soldiers, but this time, visual input is the priority. After studying the gear, uniforms, and even the race of the soldiers themselves, it hits me. I thought for sure these mages were from a guard unit, but after watching them for a while, it's very apparent that their uniforms are the normal ones most Federation mages wear. I can't spot any difference in their insignias and so on, either.

Still, is it just me, or…? They seem awfully old. The Federation is currently reorganizing the mage component of its armed forces, so it's rare to see anyone over forty.

Are they instructors? Either way, if the Communists are so pressed that they have to deploy personnel who are no longer young, that's a good sign for us. Maybe the reinforcements Zettour promised will take less time to arrive than expected. Being kept waiting is a drag.

"…This is good news. Although that's not something someone who's just been duped should be saying." With a wry grin, Tanya prepares to fire back and pierce the enemy's defensive shell with an optical sniping formula, hoping to increase her score, but…she can't land any hits.

Not only that, whenever she absentmindedly stops moving to concentrate on aiming, the enemy is relentless in obstructing her. What can she do if she gets immediately shot at before she can even take aim?

"Ngh, shit. They're bizarrely coordinated."

Every time Tanya aims at an enemy's back, she ends up finding a barrel trained on her instead. That's the epitome of how two-man cells should work, but she can't believe the Federation's troops might be even more in sync than her own.

Taking another glance, I note the veteran's wingman is another older fellow. Maybe it's two instructors? That might explain why they have such good coordination. The two of them are so in sync that simply shooting at them isn't enough to break their formation apart.

In which case, there's no choice but to respond to their challenge.

As if at this point reckless bravery is a reasonable option, Tanya rushes them, swinging as if she means to crash, and finally manages to down one of them with her magic blade.

"Damn it, this is taking way too long… What the hell?" she snaps as she surveys the area in open confusion.

The 203rd Aerial Mage Battalion, generally acknowledged as elites in the Imperial Army, the cutting edge in terms of mage operations, is practically evenly matched with these Federation mages, who are supposed to be inferior.

In fact, wouldn't it be fair to say that throughout the entire war, my unit has consistently been on the superior side? As the commander of that elite unit, Tanya honestly has trouble believing what she's seeing.

Federation mages shouldn't be able to perform at this level. Having to judge her own troops and the Federation's by the same standards gives her veteran battalion a worse reputation than it deserves.

And while I'm trying to mull over this in midair, the enemy gleefully takes the opportunity to attack.

"Argh, you're so annoying!"

As Tanya fiercely manifests an explosion formula as a smoke screen and tries to take some distance, she notices that her partner, Serebryakov, has stopped moving.

"Visha! What are you doing?!"

"Colonel! Look at that—the enemy's defensive shells!"

"Hmm? What about them?"

"…Your explosion formula peeled some away!"

"What, really?!" When Serebryakov excitedly points at the enemy, Tanya yelps in shock. The whole reason for struggling in this melee was due to her assumption that the enemy had strong shells.

If area suppression is still effective against them, that changes everything.

"Let's give it a shot!"

With formulas that prioritize range over power, Tanya can keep up with these speedy enemy mages to some extent.

Squinting, she tries to make out the results of her shot, but she can't see any difference in the enemy's movements. Just as she's about to click her tongue in disappointment that it didn't work, she notices out of the corner of her eye a patch of red seeping into the enemy's uniform.

"Turns out they're more fragile than we thought."

If the protective film was blown away and the defensive shell sustained damage, however slight, then the enemy orb's defensive performance is far inferior to what she anticipated.

This is good news. Tanya chuckles to herself.

"Weiss, Wüstemann! These guys aren't using the new model. Don't bother with piercing formulas—focus on area suppression!"

""Huh?!""

The officers' confused voices coming over the radio in harmony are strangely amusing. Apparently, Tanya wasn't the only one laboring under the assumption that the enemy had thick defensive shells.

It must have been due to an erroneous rule of thumb. The resilience of the Federation mages made us recoil, so the preconception of Federation mages as tough enemies had a harmful influence on us.

"It's not a problem even if your aim is slightly off! Ready explosion formulas! Fill the skies with fire! Just do not under any circumstances accidentally hit our troops below!"

""U-understood!""

Good. Tanya shouts more orders over the radio. "01 to all units! 01 to all units! Blow up the entire airspace and the enemy along with it! And put some energy into your defensive shells! Open fire!"

An instant later—as if the order had been a literal trigger—explosion

formulas blossom all around them.

Perhaps it's a bit excessive to completely obliterate the airspace above friendly territory. But per the possibility and potential Federation anti–air positions already demonstrated, being determined enough to simply engulf everything in fire and explosions ends up making many things much easier.

The enemy must not have thought the Imperial Army would go that far.

The Federation mages are blown away as the air fills with flames.

But their casualties are surprisingly low.

"Tsk, these guys are stubborn. What a respectable retreat."

Caught up in the explosion, they must have flown away from the blast rather than try to endure it; most of the Federation mages are singed, but their numbers haven't decreased very much.

"These persistent bastards… I guess we have to regroup… Were any of our guys stupid enough to get shot down by friendly fire?"

"Zero dropouts! Some minor burns!"

Tanya chuckles at Serebryakov's report. "Must be thanks to the Type 97s… Glad they were able to put up a better defensive shell than the enemy."

Speed, durability, reliability. Once these orbs, which excel in all three dimensions, can be mass-produced and issued across the board, qualitative superiority will be ours again…if we can find enough mages who can operate them, that is.

At any rate, the enemy mages are retreating.

As far as our aerial support objective goes, all that's left is to repel the Federation ground troops, but…it seems the Federation realized what folly it is to send in the infantry when they don't control the air.

Looking down below, everything seems peaceful. The ground units must have been watching our fight like it was one great big show. How nice…

Oh. Tanya remembers she needs to thank her subordinates.

"Major Weiss, Lieutenant Wüstemann. Nice work, both of you. Lieutenant, you look too tired to even open your mouth. You can return to base and rest with your troops."

"…Yes, ma'am. If you'll excuse us."

Tanya expresses her gratitude to Wüstemann and has him fall back to the rear, then rejoins Weiss's unit to transition them to aerial patrol. Once they confirm the enemy isn't preparing a follow-up attack, then it'll be time to

land and have the troops take a light nap. If the chance presents itself, I'll take one, too.

That's my mindset as we cruise in the air. In this state, Tanya naturally finds herself flying alongside Weiss and asking his opinion on the fight that just ended. The perception they share is that their opponent was unexpectedly formidable. Not only their discipline but even their coordination was incomparable to those of previous Federation mages we've faced before.

I wonder woefully how long we'll have to keep fighting these guys. And then there's Zettour with his unreasonable orders, drawing away one of her companies right as the fighting gets tough.

"…This new opponent's a troublesome one."

"They sure are. But wow, what were those numbskulls in the air fleet talking about? 'No need to worry about air superiority!' Those mages were even cooperating closely with fighter planes! What the hell is going on?"

"Calm down," Tanya reproves him. Actually, not everyone in the world loves war so much that they get giddy at the thought of it. If the air fleet had been napping while we were getting dogged by machine gun fire, I might have agreed with him. But that doesn't match up with reality.

"You know, enemy aerial support was technically cut off, Major."

Our fleet wasn't providing direct fire support, but the enemy air force wasn't flying however they pleased, either. So in the end…our allies did their jobs perfectly, depending on how you look at it.

Even if 100 percent isn't possible, if they did 90 percent of what was required of them, then we have to admit they performed adequately. Overemphasizing perfection leads straight to unpaid overtime and harsh labor conditions.

On that point, the air force delivered on what they promised. It may be difficult for hot-blooded Weiss to comprehend, but frontline units are not the only ones who have to make the best of the circumstances they're in.

"Consider how our aerial patrols can afford to be so lax because our forces are constantly fighting for control of the sky and working hard to force the enemy out of it. We're lucky we don't have to worry about securing our airspace. Thanks to that"—Tanya smirks at the enemy position below—"even if we have to pay attention…at least we can just focus on what's at our altitude."

"You say that, ma'am, but it's gotten harder to use altitude to our advantage…"

"I agree. And I'm sure that's the enemy's intention… Would you look at that? Speak of the devil."

Straight ahead are what look like grains of rice. Though the enemy mages have retreated, they haven't stopped watching us. How much easier this would be if we could just squash them like little bits of rice.

"…Wow. They're even kind enough to leave their signals on."

Of course, given the strength of the mana signatures, they're probably meant to function as a warning to us. If they bathe you in them twenty-four seven as if they're proud of them, you have no choice but to notice.

"They say being self-conscious is the realm of the teenager, but when the enemy boasts about their presence to this extent, it makes me feel like they have something against me personally."

"The Federation Army must have some heroes if someone over there is trying to get you to notice them."

"What's that?" Tanya rolls her eyes and glares at her vice commander, but…the effect is not exactly pronounced.

Is it because she's not tall enough? She may be the boss, but perhaps there are limits to how much she can intimidate her subordinates.

Then her bold adjutant floats over to join them. "Wouldn't they have to be heroes to top all heroes?"

Serebryakov enters the conversation with a smirk—she's sure gotten cheeky. But hold on. If I think back on it, I get the feeling she's been quite consistent since the Rhine. Trying to remember how things were back then, Tanya shoots back with a wry smile, "Troops, do you know what the destiny of heroes is?" It's just goofy chitchat. I shouldn't put too much thought into it. "Heroes—without fail—die. So there's no guarantee that it won't happen now. We'll end the legend of the Federation Army's heroes right here!"

"Ha-ha-ha-ha." The three officers laugh together, dispelling the weighty gloom. It's good to not dwell on the rough fight we just had, and this way, we stay determined. It's a good chance to switch gears.

"But they weren't fooling around out there. I have to admit, they have skills. Weiss, what did you think?"

"I'm with you. Their tactics, coordination, and skills were all at

practically the same level as ours."

"This is the biggest pain in the ass. Between the new orb model and these new guys, all our strengths are… Hmm?"

"Colonel?" Weiss asks, "What is it?"

Tanya points to some enemies and murmurs in reply: "That."

As she's pointing them out to her vice commander and adjutant, she tries to identify them from their uniforms.

"…It seems like someone familiar is joining up with them… Are their signals in the library? That's definitely not a Federation unit. Who are they?"

A glance at the vice commander makes it clear he doesn't know. Well, when it comes to languages and intel, neither Weiss nor Tanya can beat Serebryakov. Both their gazes naturally fall on the linguistically talented adjutant.

"Probably Commonwealth? No, one moment, please. I'll try intercepting their signal."

"Did you figure it out?" Tanya presses her.

After listening in for a little while, she gives her conclusion. "…It's a mix of the official languages of the Commonwealth and Entente Alliance."

Ahhh. That's when it hits Tanya. She remembers who this could be. "The rumored voluntary army? Or some remnants of the regular army? I

don't know which, but either way, I wish they were a little lazier. Why did they come all the way out here to the eastern front?"

War isn't something you participate in for your health, so why pay your own way out to a remote place like this? Are they that addicted to battle? It's not a sentiment someone with common sense can understand.

Going along with them would entail only unpaid overtime for the body and mind.

"If there's no movement, we'll fall back by group. It's absurd to waste our strength staying in the air."

Though Tanya talks about pulling out, as long as enemies stick around, withdrawing won't be so easy. At the same time, continuing the confrontation is an exercise in futility.

It's a staring contest where we can only watch helplessly as time passes. Ultimately, we stay in the sky for a while, and both sides eventually fall back only after maintaining this standoff for several hours. It's a

confrontation that tires everyone out for no reason at all—if the enemy's aim was to exhaust us, they have without a doubt succeeded. There's no point in grumbling that it should have been the amateur Federation side who dropped out first.

Landing and tumbling into her semi-submerged room that apparently used to be a storehouse, Tanya takes up her pen to write her report before she forgets what happened.

If the combat they just experienced is going to be the new standard, the Imperial Army urgently needs a plan to handle it.

The final report is pessimistic even for me.

The qualitative improvement of the Federation's mages will tighten the noose around the Imperial Army's neck. If the Empire loses its edge in the aerial mage realm, where in the world will it be able to make that up?

Reading it over, Tanya sighs. "…Still, there's not even a guarantee anyone will read this seriously."

The Imperial Army's culture allows relatively open communication, but for better or worse, it's also a military organization that closely follows doctrine and its own preconceptions. Just because I sound the alarm about the dramatic improvement in the quality of Federation troops doesn't mean anyone will take it at face value.

The higher-ups will probably be wary or pay attention.

But I can easily imagine a future where they understand with their brains and that's all; they probably won't be capable of feeling how serious the situation is.

That's how much Tanya's report is at odds with the prevailing common sense.

I'm the one who wrote it, but even I can hardly believe it. If not for the fact that Tanya personally witnessed it in battle, reading that the threat of Federation aerial mages has rapidly increased would just seem like a mere rhetorical flourish. No one will read this and immediately believe it— virtually everyone will scoff that she's overreacting.

"Argh, how can I explain it?"

Conveying things to other people seems simple but is actually quite difficult. You can write down the truth and call it a factual report, but it takes some finessing to actually get your message across.

Make your point clear, keep your audience in mind, and adhere to an

intuitive structure.

"Always easier said than done… This is such a pain. Haaah…" Tanya sighs and takes up her pen again.

Compared to when we burned Moskva, yes, they do have more troops. But improving their quality is in a completely different universe compared to simply having more. If you could immediately get the fighting power of a bunch of veterans by just hiring a slew of part-timers, the word education would have to go straight into the trash. In reality, the importance of education has only increased.

And yet the improvement in discipline the Federation aerial mage units have showed is remarkable—like an unnatural burst of instant fighting power. If that doesn't come across properly in Tanya's report, it'll be taken too lightly.

Pointing out the issue isn't so difficult—it's what comes after that's the challenge.

"This is what it means for something to be illogical," Tanya murmurs and begins to review the situation. While gnawing on a military-issue high- calorie chocolate bar, she reads over the reports from each company.

The only commonality she finds among them is the comment that they fought on an equal level with the Federation troops or were slightly superior. Try as she might, she can't locate the key to understanding the phenomenon.

Is it just my imagination?

"That can't be. No matter what lies I tell myself, no matter how I try to gloss it over, the only conclusion I can draw is that the enemy has dramatically reduced their vulnerabilities." Grumbling, she tosses the half- written report into the trash can.

A report requires a concise conclusion. Reporting to her superiors that the Federation units have better discipline now for reasons unknown would only be an admission of ineptitude.

And even worse, this is a job that's been entrusted to her. In the worst case, if she could at least take personal responsibility for everything, things would be less complicated. As long as she was prepared to accept the consequences, she could still send it without too much worry.

But this is an official report from the Lergen Kampfgruppe to the General Staff submitted under Colonel von Lergen's name. Screwing up

here would mean dragging his name through the mud.

Surely, there's no better way to brazenly harm someone's career than to cause discord between them and their team. And if the bit about using his name ever came out…the aftermath would be unspeakably awful.

"But what am I supposed to do, then…?"

Turning her attention back to drafting seriously, Tanya begins to get frustrated and grips her stomach as she moans. How should I write this?

There isn't enough information to properly analyze the situation. Conveying only the fact that the quality of the Federation troops has improved and leaving the interpretation up to her superiors would be one way of doing it, but…nothing short of Tanya's best will do.

When you're feeling lost, it's time to go back to basics.

"Let's review the current enemy situation. All I know is that they've dramatically improved, but…what is this weird feeling?"

It's precisely because Tanya whipped the 203rd Aerial Mage Battalion into shape within a month that she knows this level of change is impossible. Having abused the limits of humanity—or rather, the limits of the limits

—Tanya knows that, frankly, qualitative improvements to aerial mage units aren't easy to come by in periods of weeks or months.

Even with the selection process based on which active-duty officers seemed to have the basics down, and even after the live-fire exercise in Dacia, she still had some concerns about discipline.

The concept is even easier to grasp when looking at Wüstemann's company.

Despite giving the earnest, young, inexperienced officer on-the-job training on the eastern lines, he's far from being on Ahrens's or Meybert's level; he might not even match up to Tospan.

The fundamentals make that much difference.

Taking someone from .5 to 1 and taking someone from 0 to 1 are worlds apart.

"…The Federation's progress is too fast."

As someone with her own views on education, Tanya has little choice but to question the dramatic change in quality. "Could an overhaul of their system really have had such a pronounced effect?"

It's a little strange for her to say so, but systemic reform can't happen overnight—even if we assume the Federation has become a more

independent organization of military specialists unconcerned with political circumstances. There are limits to what's possible.

Improving how units operate isn't the same as improving their skills.

Logically, it's understandable how perfectly utilizing weak soldiers can allow the enemy to pose a real threat. There's even the classic metaphor of how a flock of sheep led by a wolf is more dangerous than a pack of wolves led by a sheep.

But then Tanya smiles wryly.

"If a company could bounce into the black tomorrow simply by changing one top executive, no one would have any problems. Or maybe that's a bit of an extreme comparison?"

The wolf leading the sheep still only has sheep to fight with. Certainly, it's helpful to train sheep into wolves.

But that process isn't as simple as heating up instant food.

Education takes manpower. Even on-the-job training requires an instructor. Just leading Wüstemann around is already exhausting.

Learning by doing without an instructor may involve less effort, but it must take a stupid amount of time.

"Something's different. What is it? How did they improve so dramatically?"

It's because I have experience working human resources that Tanya can't help but act suspicious.

There's a contradiction here. The strength of the Federation's aerial mage forces has jumped, but results aside, I can't tell how it happened.

Employment, I can explain.

If it's just about getting the critical magic personnel together, they can probably reach head count by drafting every single person who shows the aptitude. Expanding the scope of the draft means recruiting more.

But how exactly has the Federation overcome the issues of teaching staff and time? Recruiting, education, and management are the pillars of human resources; I've never seen a new recruit who doesn't require training. A combat-ready rookie is either a fantasy or a rare exception.

Planning your human resources according to that would be going against statistics—i.e., idiotic.

"…I'm fairly sure the Federation doesn't have the surplus that would afford them a bevy of instructors. Their army was incapable of operating

systematically before. Where did they find so many key personnel?" Comparing the Federation aerial mage forces to the other arms of the

Federation military reveals a striking weakness. They must be training up mages at this very moment. If the foundation is fragile, then it's natural to assume that the talent pool they're drawing from is thin as well.

"Isn't that a contradiction? Still, it's consistent…"

To use the metaphor of a company to describe the Federation military, they've simply inflated their employee count by hiring lots of new grads. Liars are the only ones with the patent for thinking they can still conduct business smoothly like that.

Of course, experience in the real world is a great teacher.

I do recognize that soldiers fighting on the front lines will naturally accumulate experience. To some extent, they must be bringing know-how back. Still, it's a question of whether a baby bird can make it out of its shell or not—that depends on their initial average skill level. Even if some of them were instantly transferred to instructor positions, getting results so quickly should be all but impossible.

Questioning this all at her desk in her underground room isn't going to get Tanya anywhere. Standing up for a change of pace, she rolls her shoulders and adds another twist to her line of thinking.

"Normally, this kind of boost would indicate mid-career hires from outside the company. Or maybe a service that provides training or instructors? In this case, it must be the latter…"

When major corporations, worried about being understaffed, do massive hiring rounds, it's not uncommon for them to outsource the training. And here, too, the Commonwealth and Unified States probably have a vested interest in training Federation troops.

Or perhaps they're using former Republic or Entente Alliance personnel as instructors.

"There's demand, and there's supply. That's everything required for a perfect overlapping of desires."

But that logic only works with capitalism. The Federation Commies will stay Red to the bitter end. They may be fighting the Empire out of nationalism, but if people had a chance to escape the ideology completely, there most likely wouldn't even be a Communist Party.

Would that party really want its army to be trained by officers from

capitalist countries?

Even if the Commies overcame that conflict of interest, each country has its own doctrines. Can something new be applied so rapidly in the middle of a war?

Even if they resolve all those issues, is it possible to get results this fast? "No, it's really just impossible."

The enemy is undeniably adaptable, and I'm not about to start underestimating them. Still, the word reality deserves some emphasis here. In this case, the only answer is mid-career hires.

But unlike a corporation, the Federation is a country. The state has a monopoly on violence—that is to say, it's the worst sort of monopolistic enterprise.

"Where could they even hire from?" Tanya grumbles as if to say, You've got to be kidding.

Does this mean even Commies have the concept of competition on the civilian level? But then it wouldn't make sense that the quality of Soviet consumer products is so consistently abysmal. There's no way the same people who had to recruit specialists from the lageri have the redundancy for that.

...Wait. There, Tanya freezes.

This is only a theory, a preposterous supposition, but…could they be hiring those guys?

The Federation Army existed before it became the party's army. In other words…there's a pool of mid-career human resources that could potentially be recruited.

"Shit, shit, shit! So that's what they're doing!!"

It hits me only after saying it aloud—I deserve to be shot by firing squad for my obliviousness. What an incredible lack of imagination. How could I think so dogmatically—what am I, a Commie?!

"The lageri! Argh, fucking Commies! You should have just killed them all in the camps!"

Apparently, these Communists are strangely talented at holding on to things.

In propaganda, they denounced political prisoners as enemies of their state, as class enemies, as reactionaries, as relics of the abominable past— and yet, they preserved a ton of them in the lageri.

Worse, Tanya knows next to nothing about those guys. If they were useless fools, that would be one thing. But having fought them…it's obvious they're skilled.

"…Who would be familiar with Federation Army mage units from the previous era?"

Though Tanya's military career is rich due to the ongoing war, it's inevitably still commensurate with her age. Thus, even she hasn't had the opportunity to hear from the generation who knew the Federation as the empire it used to be. After twenty years pass, it's not uncommon for institutional memory to fade, no matter how or why it happens.

"Talk about information asymmetry. Inheriting and passing down knowledge sure is hard. What a nightmare!"

I don't know.

In other words: ignorance.

War is governed by the fundamental premise: If you don't know, it's your fault. No one told you? So what?—that sort of thing.

Gentle egalitarians may advise that brandishing knowledge is unfair, but knowledge is power. In a war, the side that can employ more power than a school has the edge.

If you're looking for war without knowledge, you probably have to go back to pre–Stone Age—ape-men level if possible—scuffles.

So I ask myself…

Do you know your enemy?

"…No, not at all."

I've prepped and reviewed with all the available intel. If I still don't know, that means that information on the pre-revolution Federation Army magic units is missing from the official record.

How were they taught? What were their doctrines?

I don't know a single thing about them.

Tanya is uninformed—to a vexing degree. Basically, no one in the army has any understanding of the current situation. In an age with no Internet, once you lose touch with a memory or record, it might actually be lost forever.

This certainly throws a wrench in things. We can't fight a war if we don't know the enemy. I can't believe I only just noticed this massive gap in

our knowledge! Even if the war itself is a waste to begin with, we have to at least win it—argh!

In short, we need to dig up ancient records. Luckily, I'm fairly certain there was contact with them in the past. As far as Tanya can tell, contact means that there should be old data left somewhere inside the bureaucratic system.

"The problem is labor! All I see in my future is labor!" Data that haven't been organized…

Any member of an organization knows what a headache unorganized data are. Take a mountain of uncategorized receipts, for instance. Or having to find an important document in a warehouse.

How lucky for you if you even know which warehouse it's in.

Oftentimes you don't know where to start looking. That's especially true of documents that aren't handed off properly. No matter how valuable the data, it's hard for it not to be lost in a pile of junk the moment the person in charge of it transfers out of the department.

It's not malice, incompetence, or laziness but simply the reality that unused things are forgotten.

Even if Tanya makes a request, imagining the amount of time it will take for someone to find what she needs is dizzying.

"The library needs to be turned inside out. Those data must be in the General Staff Office somewhere. I have to get them to find them for me."

I won't apply as myself but as Colonel von Lergen. After all, I'm stuck in this situation operating under his name. If a donkey can borrow a lion's skin, who would say no?

I have to get them on it right away. Tanya steels herself.

She rushes out of her room and heads to the duty officer's post. After momentarily scanning for a certain person—there she is!

Seeing Serebryakov jump up and salute like she's spring powered makes Tanya smile to herself in satisfaction.

There's no time to spare returning the salute, but rules are rules. She moves her arm slightly to perform the regulation motion and races through greetings to get down to business. "Lieutenant Serebryakov, this is an emergency. Set up a long-distance call with the General Staff Office. I'd like to send an officer with the message, but the situation being what it is, this will have to do. Use the strongest cipher possible and hurry."

"Yes, ma'am! I'll go wake up the crypto personnel right away. What is it you need exactly?"

"A request in Colonel von Lergen's name to recheck the data we have on the Federation Army. Or rather, I need to get them to dig up some documents that are in the process of becoming history. Naturally, this is of the highest priority."

"Huh?"

Tanya elaborates after seeing her adjutant's blank expression. "The enemy improved too quickly. I can only conclude that rather than training up new recruits, they've begun sourcing an instant fighting force from somewhere else."

If she asks using the name of someone from Operations, the General Staff is sure to process it as an internal request.

It's not good to discriminate based on who is asking and via what channel, but prioritization hierarchies are a reality of bureaucracy.

In order to light a fire under their asses, Tanya needs to exploit every trick in the book.

"I'm fairly certain they've mixed in some troops from before the army turned Commie. In other words, there's a very good chance that some veteran aces are mixed in."

"You'll have to excuse me, but I find that hard to believe. Class enemies of the type that would normally be sent to the lageri…? This is the Federation we're talking about."

"Lieutenant Serebryakov, I appreciate your perspective. Your insight and sensibility are valuable."

As far as the issue of the Federation goes, it's dangerous to disregard the opinions of those with experience. That said, there's a nonzero chance of reality betraying historical trends.

"And I'm grateful for your advice and assistance. I respect you as a professional, Lieutenant; however, I will give you this warning with confidence."

To know something is to be clad in preconceived notions. It's fundamentally the same issue the army faces as an organization that relies too heavily on preconceptions of what is supposedly common sense. As a sensible person herself, Tanya can sympathize with Serebryakov's misunderstanding.

It's true that if you're familiar with the Commie ideology, it's hard to think that they would simply release people from the lageri. But they can sure do it anyway.

"Don't get caught up in the Communists' official position. They can talk out of three sides of their mouths. If they find something that lets them infuriate people, they'll be as diligent about it as religious fanatics." Tanya practically spits the words out in exasperation. "Forget principles. These Commies are driven more by their needs in the moment than their ideology. Authoritarians in the guise of revolutionaries have always used this trick— it's no surprise."

Commies, Commies, Commies.

You could call them an awful societal reaction.

So what's so formidable about them? Tanya knows well. She can't help but understand.

"These bastards steal causes for their own ends. Expect the worst." "…Understood."

"I'm really getting sick of this. Arrogant ideologues are simple, but patriots? They really get in the way."

What a pain when they operate according to not logic but love for their Heimat. Modernity is the age of love. Unconditional confessions of adoration to a shared construct known as the state.

Blind love.

What a heartwarming, maddeningly saccharine, and elegant poison. "Truly, what a pain in the neck."

It's extremely difficult to talk of love in Tanya's language. It's absurd.

Love is nothing but a bundle of absurdities and irrationality.

But if there's one thing that's clear, it's this:

Love transcends logic.

That much is true. Even if you add the caveat "for certain types of people," it's a major threat. The world is rife with people ready to challenge logic.

It's a world lifetimes removed from Tanya's, but sadly, it exists.

-x-X-x-

JUNE 16, UNIFIED YEAR 1927, B GROUP HEADQUARTERS ON THE EASTERN FRONT, OFFICE FOR HIGH-RANKING OFFICERS

Though his job as inspector was only nominal, this unexpected opportunity to directly observe the situation in the field was more than welcome.

It didn't exactly compare to leisurely desk work, where he could kick back in an easy chair with a smoking pipe, but it did allow him to see things he couldn't as the deputy chief of the Service Corps back at the General Staff Office.

Of course, you could say the imperial bureaucracy was the best- appointed organization of its era. Details about the situation on the eastern front were collected, analyzed, and delivered along the proper channels to the General Staff Office.

And to be assertive about picking up information himself, Zettour made efforts to stay in touch with and receive reports and advice from mid- ranking officers such as Lergen, Uger, and Degurechaff.

But the world is full of surprises. They weren't kidding when they said a picture is worth a thousand words.

"I'll send relief. That's for sure."

He had promised it, so it was his duty. But faced with reality, even Lieutenant General von Zettour was forced into internal anguish.

This is too awful.

He thought he had understood their plight on paper, but compared to reality, it seemed positively optimistic. The B Front's defensive lines were literally theoretical. It made sense why the B Group staffers were apprehensive.

Logically, one could say that as a conclusion, it was incorrect. But emotionally, he understood the reason for their confusion.

It was clear at a glance when he compared the situation to the Rhine front. Frankly, it was absurd to even call these lines. It was less like units stationed at various points along a contiguous front and more like they were simply defending their individual positions.

The battle to break out Lieutenant Colonel von Degurechaff's Lergen Kampfgruppe would be difficult.

Getting a unit there without overexposing its flank or losing its edge— and most importantly, before it was too late—was going to be…quite a challenge.

The only thing that Zettour felt conflicted about was how relieved he felt that it was Degurechaff he had made the bait. If the enemy hadn't taken the poisoned lure, they would have been forced to halt a real army with defensive lines that existed only on paper.

Thank God and fatherland that the Federation Army didn't commit to a reckless charge.

"…Air force attrition is occurring at three times the rate we anticipated. The drop operational tempo is getting serious; we won't be able to maintain air superiority for long like this."

Though control of the sky was a minimum requirement, the eastern army didn't have much strength to spare in the first place. Even considering concentration of forces in the west to handle the aerial battles breaking out there, the standards here could only be described as poor.

"I thought we annihilated the Federation's air force in Operation Iron Hammer… Does that really mean…?" He murmured and sighed at the photograph in his hand. It was a picture shot by an imperial air force gun camera depicting a fighter plane that looked to be of Unified States's make.

It was pleasant to see it bursting into flames, but the enemy plane was the one on fire because this was the picture in his possession. Plenty of imperial aircraft had been shot down, too. Surely the enemy gun cameras (nice ones with nice film from the Unified States) had photographed the reverse happening.

"What an utter pain."

A murmur of perplexity.

He understood with his brain, but something was still bothering him. Zettour shook his head to try to clear the strange feeling out of his mind and stared at the aerial photo.

"…The colors are awfully faded."

Acquiring aircraft parts was the highest priority, but the quality was still inferior enough that the colors seemed muted. Apparently, the Council for Self-Government was urgently procuring former Federation Army gear.

"Actively using seized gear…? I guess it makes sense that wouldn't be emphasized in the reports. I suppose in the end…it's the same sort of issue

as the socks."

Maybe it was different to inquire about. He could clearly recall Colonel von Lergen, back from his inspection of the front lines, relaying the issue of the socks.

He had spoken so hesitantly, everyone thought something horrible had happened on the front, but what it ended up being was socks. All the staff officers were absolutely baffled. But at least it was something they could understand if they listened…

"Bizarrely, until someone explained it to us, we were incapable of understanding. How much of the information the front deems not worth saying are we able to pick up in the rear…? It's concerning…"

The administration considered itself to be working hard to understand the front lines as much as possible. That went for Zettour and every member of the organization.

The socks oversight was due to a difference in awareness or a gap in perception. It was an example of how cultural obstacles regulate group thoughts and actions more than most people imagined. Apparently, old paradigms make their presence felt when you're not looking.

"I thought being on the front lines myself and breathing the same air would give me a different perspective, but…only now that I've seen it do I realize things can't go on like this."

The front lines were captive to their circumstances, and the rear was captive to theirs. He could understand the reasons and the circumstances behind B Group's reluctance, but they weren't being terribly inventive. So did someone in the rear have a big plan to turn things around…? The maneuvers via Ildoa had hit a setback, and the fact that he was even here meant the situation was no laughing matter.

He did let Colonel Calandro know thereafter that he still wanted to stay in touch and strive for improvement, but frankly, it was clear that the Empire had put a damper on Ildoa's efforts to mediate.

Sadly, what Zettour felt keenly standing on the front lines was that nobody fully grasped what was happening out here.

There was Supreme Command, the General Staff, the army, the government, and they all considered themselves strategists, but what they actually decided was the strategic level, and the foundational grand strategy it should have been nesting under had yet to materialize.

"A huge war with no guiding principles… Before the war, I would have laughed in the face of such an idea, saying How could something so foolish come to pass?"

…It was a height of stupidity he couldn't have imagined, and it made him sick.

The Imperial Army most likely doesn't have enough combat units. Can the Empire really take on the world like this?

Unfortunately, it wasn't his job to worry about that. "…It really is concerning."