CHAPTER - V ( part 2)

"Dispersing randomly while advancing… Wait, they're firing back while strafing?!"

The mage brigade pulling off such a counter meant that they could see

through Tanya's maneuvers. It was no mystery that the Commonwealth reserve mages were highly skilled, but them countering her evasive charging tactics so completely caught her off guard.

Tanya wasn't the only one in awe, though, as the same thing was happening to Drake on the other side.

From his perspective, the enemy had evaded his net of fire that he'd hoped would obliterate them. He scoffed to himself and shouted at the top of his lungs in an attempt to get his men to focus their fire even more. Tanya, however, wasn't the type to let something like this go unnoticed.

The enemy had made a fundamental change in how they're moving. She laughed bitterly at herself and got ready to engage with the enemy company that she believed was responsible for this dramatic change.

"Everything changed ever since that new company joined. They must be… a command section. What a pain in the ass."

A single company shouldn't have had this much impact on the tide of the battle. The issue was this company knew how to fight, and they'd successfully rekindled the broken brigade. The way the battle was panning out told Tanya this company was something they couldn't just ignore.

Tanya rubbed her temples while she dipped and dodged through a hail of enemy formulas. While still imperfect, they'd turned a useless brigade into an absolute force to be reckoned with.

Tanya still couldn't believe what she was watching. This mage company was far too dangerous to let survive beyond this battle.

"Adjutant, reorganize the troops. We're going in." "We're going to force our way through?"

"That's right." Tanya affirms her question.

The risk was immense, but it was a risk that had to be taken. The enemy they were facing was a real threat. Forgoing this preventative surgery could lead to a disaster down the line.

She didn't have time to worry about the repercussions of surgery. Only necessity dictated what she had to do now.

"We have to do it. We need to take out their leader, and fast."

If they left him alone, he would grow into something that can't be quelled.

Tanya made her decision quickly, and First Lieutenant Serebryakov came to the same conclusion at nearly the same speed.

"Roger. Let's put out this fire while it's still small."

The imperial commander and her adjutant both agreed on the decision and instantly leaped into action.

They abandoned maneuvering around the enemy for a better position and began climbing as fast as possible.

They were followed by the rest of their battalion, with the entire imperial unit all surging upward at once. They breezed past ten thousand before settling at around fourteen thousand. This is well over two thousand feet of what should have been physically possible with their machinery. High up in the sky, the battalion began to create a new penetration formation.

It was an altitude far too high for any harassing fire from below to reach. Realizing this, Drake shouted out, "Damn it!"

For a single moment, it seemed like the enemy might have been putting distance between themselves and the Commonwealth. It was a brief moment, but for the newer troops, it was more than enough for them to lose their nerve.

Drake didn't even have to look at them to know. The enemy had thrown off their rhythm.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck!"

Where the hell is that guardian angel of mine? Are they off in some random pub getting hammered? Fate can be such a bitch!

Why does life have to be so full of difficulties like this?!

Drake relied on his ace company to provide a base of fire…but it wasn't enough to defend against the enemy plunging into them with this great an altitude difference.

Drake had experienced the same zoom-and-boom tactic back in the Federation. He could feel his wounded shoulder crying out to him.

The enemy was going to bull-rush them. Drake recognized this as soon as he saw them start climbing. He knew exactly what they were doing, but he couldn't do anything about it other than curse this twist of fate.

"Not this again! Is it just going to be a repeat of last time?!"

He could see what direction the battle was headed in and knew that he'd only have one chance to attack. He needed to make sure that one chance would be enough for him to slay his foe.

Filled with the determination to annihilate his target once and for all, he began to cast a new formula.

Drake wasn't going to let the opportunity slip through his fingers this time.

He watched and waited for his chance.

His eyes were set on Tanya. She was able to make out his face as well, and she let out a massive groan on the inside.

"Hmm?!"

She suddenly recognized his face. There was only one person who came to mind when she wondered who it could be. It was none other than the loony mage she had met out east! What in the world was he doing here?!

She questioned his presence but quickly came to terms with it.

The only sort of soldier who could ever use comrades as a barrier in battle was someone who had fought alongside the Commies. It appeared that these ruthless tactics were the result of nurture not nature.

As frightening as this was to learn, Tanya knew she needed to kill the man here and now.

Fully determined to do just that, Tanya shouted. "You freak! I'll kill you for sure this time!"

She wasn't the only one shouting—Drake roared from below as well. "Rusted Silver! You're going die today!"

These two hounds clashed for victory and survival. Both hounds, though, were very intelligent.

They were creatures of the modern age; instead of fangs, they girded themselves with steel and magic.

They were both military beasts—that was exactly why Tanya and Drake both pegged the other as insane and what brought them to the logical conclusion that they had absolutely no choice but to kill each other with their very next attack.

For better or for worse, they were both at a similar level when it came to making tactical decisions. They were both expert mages—pros when it comes to the fundamentals of aerial combat.

In other words, they both chose the only reliable way to kill each other. And that was to use explosion formulas at ultra–close range.

The plural is important here. They were both planning to use multiple formulas.

An explosion formula at such a distance would endanger the caster as much as it threatened the enemy. It was essentially just one step below suicide bombing.

Be that as it may, what would happen if the caster was able to time their

attack perfectly? What if they were able to transfer all their magic into their protective film and defensive shell immediately after casting?

The decision to use explosions at this range would be suicidal for most mages. These two, however, both calculated that there was a tiny window of opportunity where they could pull off the seemingly impossible.

They both made the same conclusion. That they needed to bring their enemy within range, then throw up a strong enough shield to survive the ensuing catastrophe. Even if they were caught up in the explosion, as long as they could shield themselves, then they would have a chance to survive.

The chance was admittedly small, but if there was a way to come out of this alive, then their decision was already made. They shared similar mindsets in this regard as well.

They both knew that their best chance to defeat the enemy was to blow themselves up. Unfortunately for them both, this was far less certain if the enemy decided to try the same thing.

They both unleashed their explosion formulas at close range, but by the time they picked up on the fact that the resulting detonations were more powerful than they had anticipated, it was already too late. They were both blown away, but Lieutenant Colonel Drake still poured all his mana into his defenses.

He even abandoned his flight magic.

Maintaining only his breathing enhancements, he reflexively curled into a ball as he plummeted through the burning sky, just barely managing to keep himself alive.

Tanya, on the other hand…took more drastic measures.

She begrudgingly committed to her decision and pushed all four cores in her Type 95 to their absolute limits. Quietly humming a hymn, Tanya drew upon her well of mana to create a powerful attack.

She chose to maintain her flight formula and opted to cut off a handful of other formulas. She continued to use magic to create her own oxygen, and she still had enough left to raise a proper defensive shell thanks to the little relic known as the Type 95 Computation Orb.

The difference in their orbs would be the determining factor in the face- off.

Though they both executed the same exact move, the difference in their equipment led to entirely different results.

The loser of the battle only barely managed to survive as he was sent hurtling toward the ground while trying to get his flight formula up and working. And the victor—she flew high above him as her hymn shifted from a crescendo into a triumphant cry. Taking full advantage of this, Tanya began pelting her falling opponent with magic.

The battle was a one-on-one between the two commanding officers. A rare sight to see in modern warfare, but its effect on their respective forces' morale was tremendous.

The winning side stole all momentum from the losing side.

And it went without saying that the winning side was perfectly aware of this.

They knew that their victory was due solely to their superior technology and not technical skill.

At the end of the day, a victory is a victory, and a loss is a loss.

Tanya was determined to let the whole battlefield know who the victor was. She shook her head to forget the damned prayer and took a deep breath.

After recomposing herself, she barked out her next orders.

"I've taken out the enemy commander! Now it's time to show them what true violence looks like!"

It was important to capitalize on opportunities whenever they presented themselves. The instincts needed to make this happen were what separated the veterans from the soldiers on the battlefield.

It came down to pure violence. Or the right attack.

Like Kellermann during the Battle of the Marengo, the imperial mages needed to make the most of this opportunity.

"Volley fire! Use three explosion formulas!"

Three companies of mages, followed closely by a slightly disoriented fourth company, came together as the 203rd Aerial Mage Battalion and unleashed a hail of hellfire. The Commonwealth soldiers could only watch on as their allied marine mages were engulfed by the blazing flames.

"We've taken out the enemy forces! The ships below are vulnerable!

We've created a path for our allies!"

First Lieutenant Grantz looked to Tanya with excited eyes; he's waiting for the command to charge in. She responds to him, though, by shaking her head and alerting him that now is their time to retreat.

"This isn't the east, First Lieutenant." "But, Commander? Shouldn't we…?"

"Remember the basics from the Western Air Battle. The longer we dally, the more likely unexpected guests will show up. We can't afford to stay too long."

Were this the eastern front, where the fighting was spread out over a much wider expanse of land, they may have had the leisure to linger and thoroughly lay waste to their enemies…but these were Commonwealth waters.

The battle was taking place far too close to the enemy's base of operations.

Their mage battalion had already pulled more than their weight in seeing this operation through. They had successfully defanged the brigade of mages that had been the core of their enemy's air defense. All while keeping losses on the imperial side to a minimum.

The fact that they had just been ambushed was what truly convinced Tanya to go with the safer, more conservative course of action. She also didn't feel the need for her battalion to stick its neck out any further for this plan.

"There's no reason for us to risk our lives while our troops are retreating after a failed attempt. I'm not a fan of losing my subordinates for no reason."

"I supposed we've done enough to cover our navy's retreat."

"We have," Tanya confirmed. She was glad First Lieutenant Grantz was a sharp man. If the enemy wasn't going to chase the Imperial Navy, then it should be okay for them to leave. Tanya and her battalion had more than earned their salary for the day.

"Now that First Lieutenant Grantz agrees, it's time for us to follow suit and retreat. Please resist the urge to send the enemy any farewell presents."

"What? I assumed you'd send them another farewell letter to poke fun at them…"

Tanya's adjutant seemed surprised, but her colonel simply shook her head.

"Our plan has ended in failure. We're not in the position to ridicule anyone."

Sighs could be heard as the mages quickly withdrew from the area of operations.

It was the same as always.

They had scored another small victory.

It was a valiant victory overshadowed by a thin veil of greater defeat.

That thin veil, however, was more than enough to fully block out their achievements, no matter how brightly they shined.

After all, the Imperial Army had lost the battle. They knocked against the wooden walls of the Commonwealth, only for their fist to bounce right off.

Once all was said and done, Tanya had to think about where she would go next.

"Damn it all. I'm going to give General Romel an earful when I get back."

-x-X-x-

THE SAME DAY, WESTERN ARMY GROUP COMMAND FOR THE IMPERIAL ARMY

At this very moment, the barking of a man could be heard coming from the corner of the Western Army Group command center, which was occupied by its owner for once. The first report he had received…was the worst news imaginable. Lieutenant General Romel was struck by the harshness of reality in his own office.

"Shit!"

He paid no mind to the blood streaming from his fist as he slammed it on his desk again.

The report informed him that their troops had encountered enemy forces. Not only that but the ones lying in wait were none other than the mighty Commonwealth fleet. Their original plan was a surprise attack to fulfill a political objective. General Romel had used what little military force he could still muster up for the operation. He knew they didn't stand a chance if they were met with any amount of serious resistance.

This meant that the plan had failed.

The failure of the plan aside, there was an even bigger question that plagued his mind.

"Why?! How did they know?!"

He looked around the room with bloodshot eyes, begging for an answer that was not forthcoming.

Failure was always a possibility from the very start. Lieutenant General Romel only hoped that the plan would go at least half as well as planned.

-x-X-x-

[Image]

-x-X-x-

The fog of war, eh? What a strange and completely accurate phenomenon.

The more time he spent on the battlefield, the more he was faced with random instances of poor luck and profoundly outrageous bouts of incredible luck. The goddess who governed fate could be so utterly cruel. Her whimsy and tendency to play favorites knew no bounds.

Even so, what happened this time was impossible.

Romel never predicted that such a miscarriage of strategy would rear its ugly head.

The general did literally everything imaginable to minimalize risk and maximize his chances for success. He held back nothing in terms of resources in the name of making this plan come together.

He had played every card in hopes of winning this battle. There should've been no dead ends.

He did everything humanly possible to make sure it was conducted to a tee. These plans are carried out by people, of course. He knew this—he knew there was a limit to how careful people can be.

Nevertheless, this knowledge didn't stop him from raging at the impossibility of it all.

"Why was the Royal Navy there?!"

Was it a coincidence that the enemy would place their fleet right where the Empire least wanted them to? Any strategist worth his salt could tell they had clearly been lying in wait. He hated it, and as much as he didn't want to accept it, this was the reality of the situation… It meant that top secret information was being leaked to the Commonwealth.

The enemy had detected their plan and intercepted them… It wasn't as if they were dealing with maneuver warfare in a desert. It would've been different had they acted on false information they intercepted from enemy transmissions…if it was the Empire that had been fooled.

This attack was initiated by the Imperial Army, though. So how did this happen?

"I can't believe this. There's no explanation for it."

He cradled his head; he almost felt like drinking himself into oblivion to forget the problem for even a moment. Nicotine would have to do for now… He composed himself but only for a moment.

Romel roamed his office aimlessly like a wounded beast when he

realized there was a sound coming from somewhere. A phone was ringing.

Just as it was starting to get on his nerves, he then came to another realization. It was the navy. It was a report from Fleet Command—the report he wanted to hear most. Or at least, that's what it should've been. The general wasn't in the correct state of mind to hope for the best.

He took a moment to catch his breath before picking up the phone. "Hello… What are the losses?"

His furrowed brow relaxed slightly when he heard the words successful retreat and minimal casualties.

Though their plan had failed, it hadn't ended in catastrophe for their forces. It was the most minor of silver linings.

Had he been blessed by the gods? Or was it his inability to capture the Goddess of Fate that caused his failure?

The general mulled over it for a moment, but he had no idea which it might be. Nevertheless, this was a new development. Lieutenant General Romel finally had the chance to get more details on their defeat.

"I'm glad the navy came out of this largely unscathed. When can I expect a more detailed report?"

They told him that he'd have it as soon as they returned to the harbor.

He hung up the phone. He was feeling more impatient than eager…but if he needed to wait, it would give him an opportunity to catch his breath and shed his frustration.

"Wait, wait. That's it… I need to calm myself a bit. Somebody…! Get me a hot coffee!"

The poor soul who brought him his piping-hot coffee had the misfortunate of watching the general practically inhale it next to a mountain of cigarette ashes as he tried to get his bearings on the situation.

He needed it to bring himself back from the shock of the entire ordeal.

His stomach churned as the hot liquid, which burnt like hellfire, came flowing in… The pain helped anchor him to reality as it mixed with the ever- present stress of overwork.

And thus, he was able to achieve the appearance of calmness when he received the long-awaited report from the navy.

Everything was riding on this report.

It was a thin brief. This was because it was their initial after-action report. Either way, the sparse details were more than enough to quench

Lieutenant General Romel's thirst for information.

What caught his eye the most was the enemy's formation. It affirmed the hunch he had when he first caught word of their force's interception.

It was already suspicious that the Commonwealth had their Home Fleet waiting for the Imperial Navy in the channel. What he saw on those pages turned his doubt into conviction.

"They aren't even trying to hide it anymore."

It was more than evident that the enemy fleet had prepared multiple fast- moving vessels to intercept the naval squadron he had put together with an emphasis on speed. Not only that but they even had the audacity to bring a mage brigade with them. Normally, Commonwealth fleets were never accompanied by mage units larger than a regiment. The notion that they'd coincidentally deploy an entire brigade was absolutely preposterous. While it was the Home Fleet he was dealing with, massing an entire brigade of mages was no easy task.

An even bigger problem presented itself in the attached report provided by Lieutenant Colonel Degurechaff.

The title alone was enough to floor him.

The emergency report was titled "Enemy Mage Movements—The Use of Soldiers as Sandbags/Similarities to Eastern Battle Tactics," and it spelled out the lieutenant colonel's awe and rage at the lengths the Commonwealth had been willing to go to during their battle.

It was much worse than a simple leak in information.

Only the insane would think this was all a coincidence. Every sign pointed to the enemy having predicted the Empire would use their prized 203rd Aerial Mage Battalion and crafting a direct counter to fight them off.

"Looks like there's a leak that needs fixing…"

Romel had learned about the importance of keeping information secret in the southern theater.

He had experienced a battle that could only be won by deceiving their enemies with false information. It was a terrible battle to fight, and one he would never forget. Ever since he almost fell for the false report sent by the François Republic in the desert, he made it a point to trust his eyes and ears while keeping his lips shut tight…

This experience was what made him very picky about the intelligence agents he worked with. The general was confident that he put more effort into

his collection of information and analysis when proposing this plan compared to his colleagues.

"But I guess I'm no match for the pros." He couldn't hold back his grimace.

"At the end of the day, I'm nothing more than a general. A senior staff officer. Intelligence is by no means my forte."

He learned how to win battles at the war college, not how to conduct espionage. The most he had ever learned about the subject was to make sure all communication was encrypted.

Quite frankly, he was in no place to speak about the subject.

The Empire had no infrastructure for waging systematic information warfare…

"Those damn Commonwealth spies. Nothing is out of their reach." Lieutenant General Romel shook his head in frustration.

The situation couldn't get any worse. What bugged him the most was the need to be suspicious of people who were ostensibly on his side. He didn't know which stupid soldier had screwed up where, but the fact that the core of his plan had been leaked to the enemy meant that they needed to conduct an audit of the entire army.

"…Could it be our codes? Or a traitor? Perhaps a spy? Or just simple human error?"

Every question was met with suspicion.

What is this, some sort of spy novel? Romel grumbled on the inside—but oh, how much more complicated and mysterious nonfiction could be. What plagued his mind the most was the question of where the leak came from.

"Damn it, I can't be sure of anything now, can I?"

General Romel cursed himself as he—without even realizing it—reached for another cigarette. He bit down on the butt while his mind raced.

Should he mobilize every intelligence agent they had? "That won't be enough."

It stood to reason that he would need to reorganize the entire western front.

There had yet to be any signs of the Federation Army having insight on the Empire's war efforts in the east…but either way, they needed to circumvent the leak.

But how was he going to get the word out?

He slammed his fist onto his desk again. That's right—this is the overarching problem.

He reflexively brought his hand to his head to keep himself from getting dizzy.

Even the integrity of the Empire's encryption was in question. He couldn't use the radio at a time like this. If he was going to be careful, he needed to send the message directly through a fellow officer.

But who could he trust? There were many officers. But…how was he supposed to trust any of them? The fact that there may have been a leak meant that no precautions could be considered too careful.

Even more frightening was the possibility of handing critical information directly to their spy.

When it came to the mobile headquarters he used on a daily basis, it was very difficult to take counterintelligence measures comparable to when he was at his base of operations. Not to mention the possibility that the enemy could simply be taking advantage of a flaw in their system…

"Fucking hell!"

He had a bad feeling—the same feeling he had out in the desert when enemy snipers were a constant threat. He knew there were enemies lurking nearby, but he had no idea how to locate them!

It felt like there was a gun being pressed against his head.

At this rate, he was a sitting duck—the perfect catch for a hungry hunter on the prowl for dinner. It was only a matter of time before enemy hunters came, smacking their lips.

"With things as they are…"

It was no longer a matter of strategy. It was something much simpler.

"Even Plan B may be…"

…in danger, he tried to say, but his mind was plagued by too much anxiety to get the full sentence out.

By its very nature, Plan B was meant to be kept secret at any cost. If word got out it was in the works, it could spell the end of the Empire itself.

What were the chances that word had already reached enemy ears? Could they ever get such information during a war like this?

"…Ah, shit, shit, fucking shit."

He almost felt like he could hear the blood draining audibly from his

body. His vision blurred, and he just barely managed to hold on to a chair for support before finally falling. He found himself staring at the ceiling from the floor.

He couldn't stop sweating. It wasn't hot in his office. The sweat came from a frigid feeling inside him that ran up and down his spine. His heart wouldn't stop racing.

After two deep breaths, he managed to control his breathing, but his body wouldn't stop quivering.

He'd never felt such fear before, not even on the battlefield. Romel was more nervous than when he gave his first orders as a second lieutenant. He found himself recalling the pain he felt in his stomach the first time he went into battle. Just thinking about it made him almost smile.

His biggest fear used to be making a mistake. But now that very notion was all but laughable. Simple planning mistakes didn't matter at all anymore! General Romel decided to try and smoke the anxiety out of himself. After failing a few times to get his cigarette lit, he just sat there with the butt

wedged between his lips.

What a nightmare.

"Forget politics."

If the Empire really had been infiltrated by an enemy spy, then it could spell disaster for them.

What would happen if the enemies picked up on the General Staff Office's insight regarding the army's inability to continue the war? What would happen then?

The world would probably come together to a bring swift end to their war.

No. The buck wouldn't stop there.

The consequences would be far more decisive than a few countries simply banding together. Should their enemies realize the Empire was on its last legs, they would most definitely place oppressive restrictions on their war-torn nation. The situation was deteriorating in quantifiable terms and with incredible speed.

It also begged the question of whether Ildoa would remain neutral, an issue that had been the source of so much anguish for Lieutenant General Romel when he was down in the south.

"What if we have to fight Ildoa…?"

Even the mere thought of it was enough to make him sick to his core.

With all the fronts they were already fighting on, opening up another one would bring their war machine to a grinding halt. The Empire would surely collapse.

There was no feasible way for the Imperial Army to take on such a task. The war was already long past a point where it was manageable for the

Imperial Army to conduct any meaningful, decisive attacks. At this stage in the game, they had to put their full power into just maintaining the lines where they were.

Should they have to fight Ildoa, there was no hope they could muster up an attack.

"Could we theoretically pull off a defensive war in the mountain region?"

Even for the aggressive Lieutenant General Romel, the only plan of action he could come up with in that war-gaming scenario was to go on the defensive. This was representative of their total lack of options.

The real issue was that the army was quickly running out of soldiers.

He thought about the current state of the Western Army Group. It was already a shell of itself. Official documents showed that most of the former first-class soldiers worn down in the east had either already collapsed or were being used for security purposes in occupied territories. Even lighter- staffed divisions wouldn't amount to much in the current situation where they were too rare to be taken into account.

As a specialist, he knew they wouldn't be able to pull off an attack anytime soon. However…the specialist in him had insight for danger pointed in another direction as well.

"Ildoa is positioned against the Empire like a knife at our throats. What if the Commonwealth or Federation were to advance into the Empire via Ildoa?"

How long would the Imperial Army last against the Federation Army if they were to swing through Ildoa? He needn't even play with the idea for it to send chills down his already ice-cold spine.

At the moment, the Empire was narrowly managing to defend itself on the eastern front.

If forced to simultaneously fight Ildoa in the south, the battle would undoubtedly take place in the mountain range that separated the two countries. It wasn't an environment suited for maneuver warfare, meaning if

they were able to create a defensible base there, it would at least be expected to hold for some time.

The fact that it was close to the Empire made it easier to keep supplied as well. It would certainly be much easier to manage than sending soldiers down south again. That's all it was, though. They would inevitably need to take resources earmarked for the east and move them south.

Before long, the Empire would bleed out. It was only a matter of whether it would happen in the east or south.

And again, this was bearing in mind the sheer thinness of the line between the Empire and Ildoa. The general wrestled with this same problem when he was out on the Rhine. It would be fatal for the mainland if they were to suffer a major aerial assault.

"We're barely holding out against the Commonwealth's jabs as it is…"

They wouldn't be able to maintain their air defenses, let alone ground defenses, should their fronts get split up any further. They lacked the equipment, personnel, and everything else they needed to do so.

Two fronts alone were already more than enough to cause fear for him. While he feared for the future, a single idea crossed his mind.

It came like a flash, as if he didn't think of it himself.

Deep within the confines of Lieutenant General Romel's mind, he thought up one new possibility.

"What if we hit them with a preemptive strike…?"

There was still time to knock out Ildoa before they entered the fray.

If they acted soon, there were still enough resources for them to pull off a full-scale Zettour-style strike.

If they acted soon, before Ildoa could mobilize…it might be possible to knock them out of the war before they considered joining.

It was possible but also purely theoretical.

Though a broken man, General Romel maintained his levelheadedness as he scoffed to himself.

Impossible.

"I can't let fear convince me into committing suicide. The one thing the Empire can't endure is to create even more enemies. Especially now that we can't be sure who to trust within our organization."

At this point, the general's ceaseless tremors came to an end, and he finally managed to light the cigarette that'd been sitting patiently between his

lips.

He enjoyed the military tobacco as the tar seeped into his lungs.

The radical thought he had earlier stayed with him, though, like a stain on his brain—a stain in the shape of a high-heeled boot.

From behind the stain, the idea peeked its head a second time. "Should we take them down while we…?"

The general was interrupted before he could say anything else. His thought was cut off by a commotion coming from outside his office. A slight scowl appeared on his brow before he stood up.

His command center was known for how lively it was…but never to the extent where it completely lost any sense of order.

What's going on? He moved toward the door with an inquisitive expression, only to have it practically kicked in from the other side by an angry magic officer.

"General Romel! I'd like to request an explanation from you!" The little officer was filled to the brim with anger and resentment.

It was Lieutenant Colonel Degurechaff, and she shouted out General Romel's deepest suspicions.

"Why were the enemies waiting for us?!"

Oh yes.

He greeted her with a grin and sharp eyes. Rusted Silver naturally responded with words of frustration.

"How the hell are we currently handling our secret information?!"

She's absolutely right to be mad. He nodded and continued to grin. "That's an excellent question, Lieutenant Colonel Degurechaff. Would you

like to know the answer?"

"Please, that's exactly what I'm here to find out!" "I don't know."

The frank way with which the general responded left Tanya almost speechless.

"What?"

What's with that face? What did she expect him to say?

It didn't matter; she would have likely come to the same conclusion as he did. In fact, she probably already had. It was likely why she was visibly angry.

"Either there's a traitor among us, the enemy has deciphered our codes, or

some form of human error. Which do you think is most likely?"

"If those are my three options, then I know exactly which it is." Just as he knew she would.

"If you think you know, then let's hear your answer."

The two of them looked at each other briefly before saying in unison, "It's our codes." Of the three, their encryption deserved the most suspicion. Their agreement was a source of great exasperation for them both, but they knew this was the most likely answer.

That was why they both hoped the other would say something different. Lieutenant General Romel asked Tanya for her reasoning. The answer he received was incredibly logical.

"Would any individual traitor have access to the entire picture? The only way that would be possible is if it were you who was the traitor."

Precisely. Romel was of the same opinion. It was strange. He almost felt angry with how accurate her diagnosis was. The entire thing had him mad.

That was why he decided to lift his own mood by picking on his subordinate.

"Could it not be you as well?" "What? You think it's me?"

"You were a part of the task force and had access to the entire plan. If you were to try and defect to the Commonwealth, it would've been the perfect bit of information to take with you."

The lieutenant colonel stared back at the general with incredible anxiety pouring from her entire being. The general could feel her beginning to question his sanity.

"I'm just joking with you. You should get a hold of yourself, Colonel."

He kept it to himself that that he was in a similar state only moments ago and flashed her an easy smile. It was times like these where he took pleasure in being able to pick on his younger officers.

Unfortunately, a laugh or two wasn't going to dig them out of this hole. The idea that there might be a traitor was asinine. The Imperial Army conducted thorough background checks on any and all personnel who came into contact with vital information. They had thick files on each and every officer—it was simply how the army operated.

In other words, it was nigh impossible for something as ridiculous as a traitor to be among their ranks.

Which meant…

"…This changes everything. There's no longer a Plan A or B with the way things are now."