CHAPTER - V

NOVEMBER 10, UNIFIED YEAR 1927, NIGHTTIME NEAR THE SOUTHERN IMPERIAL BORDER

The Eighth Panzer Regiment was considered one of the General Staff Office's primary formations after Colonel Lergen's quick transfer there. It would follow strict orders to spearhead the charge to the southern border.

It was the right regiment to lead the charge, as it was suited with state-of- the-art tanks, a startlingly ample supply of fuel, and the most well-trained soldiers the Empire had to offer—though anyone with a thorough grasp of the basics was considered the best at this point.

In recent years, it was rare for an Imperial regiment to be this fit to fight.

It was impressive, even compared to elite divisions from before the war.

Needless to say, the role it would take on in the fight against Ildoa would be an important one. As operations were set to start any day now, it wasn't only the General Staff officers who were busy. Thus, when Colonel Lergen learned that Lieutenant General Jörg was calling for him, he figured it had something to do with the regiment.

Colonel Lergen was the head officer. Assuming there was either some new issue or something urgent that needed attending to, he hustled over to the command center, only to be caught off guard by what he saw.

The commander wasn't anywhere to be found.

Wondering what this meant, he looked around the room until the commander's adjutant beckoned him over with a look. The colonel followed the officer to the commander's private room without any idea what was going on.

When they arrived, the commander's adjutant told the colonel he would

clear the area before leaving the room. The colonel felt a bit suspicious when he was offered no further explanation. Despite not entirely understanding the situation at hand, Colonel Lergen turned to the room's owner and gave a proper greeting.

"I'm here on your orders."

"Welcome," Lieutenant General Jörg said with a nod before flashing a wry grin. Without giving any orders, he took out a recognizable envelope with a somewhat puzzled look on his face.

"Colonel Lergen, there is a sealed message from the General Staff Office for you."

"For me?"

"Since you're their officer, you needn't mind me. Though, I have my suspicions as to what it may be about. I bet they're special orders from General Zettour. He's probably got something special cooked up for you. It may be a pain, but I know you can handle whatever he throws your way."

"I'll take a look at it… I only hope it isn't something too troublesome."

The colonel expressed his thanks before standing up straight and reading the message. Colonel Lergen would soon curse himself for forgetting that his boss was the mastermind behind Operation Shock and Awe.

His vision began to blur. "…?!"

He tried to keep himself up by stiffening his core but couldn't fight off the dizziness.

"Colonel? Hey, is there something the matter?"

A worried Lieutenant General Jörg's words snapped Colonel Lergen's expression back to normal.

"Sorry, I…just remembered something I must attend to." "Does that something have to do with those orders?"

The lieutenant general had seen Colonel Lergen stagger after reading through the message, so it was natural that he would have his suspicions. There was nothing the colonel could do or say to hide this now. However, the commander shrugged and gave a self-deprecating chuckle instead of censuring the colonel.

"My apologies… I shouldn't have asked."

He wasn't going to press any further on the subject.

For better or worse, the lieutenant general was a member of an

organization and, as an Imperial Soldier, knew when it was best to mind his own business.

"Do what you must. But let me ask one thing concerning our operation. Whatever you are about to go and do, I trust it will be finished before we deploy, correct?"

"Yes, it won't take long."

Colonel Lergen was permitted to leave the room with an "Okay." He rushed to find the nearest military police officer, whom he ordered to drive him to the nearest long-distance telegraph facility on the encampment.

The officer, who was off duty, met his request with some resistance that the colonel would entirely ignore. Colonel Lergen followed his orders with incredible resolution, brushing off any and all fuss. He acquired a single communications room for himself, kicking a group of disgruntled officers and soldiers away from their phones. He then made sure to have the military police officer keep all personnel away from the room.

Naturally, Colonel Lergen wasn't the only one on the base who wanted to use the phone. There was an array of different reasons an officer or soldier would want to make a call: for family, friends, loved ones, and work. Despite receiving every complaint in the book from all sorts of ranking officers, the Colonel used the authority of the General Staff to have the military police keep others out and away from the room.

With the communications room now all to himself, Colonel Lergen let out a deep breath. He couldn't help but shudder as he felt a reluctant sweat running down his back.

Nevertheless, he prepared for the worst and picked up the telephone. "I wish to make an international call to Ildoa."

"Due to the late hour, I…"

"By the authority of the General Staff, I demand you make the call immediately."

After pestering the Imperial operator into complying with his unreasonable demand, Colonel Lergen read out a number he had written down.

"Excuse me, but this is a number for an Ildoan military facility. Even if this is a military base, only Ildoan associates are allowed to make calls to this number for personal affairs…"

"This is a military matter. One that you don't have the jurisdiction to

second-guess. Or are you trying to tell me you are going to block an Ildoan military message on your say-so? This is an official call. If you are going to make a formal objection, you will be liable for any of the consequences."

The Ildoan operator's attempt to push back faltered as soon as the colonel mentioned the word consequences. Though perhaps in what could be considered his final form of resistance, the operator took his sweet time putting the call through.

When it eventually connected, someone picked up within the first ring. "Hello, this is the Ildoan Army Headquarters at the Nostrum military

base."

"Is Colonel Calandro available?"

"My apologies, but could I have your name?"

The operator's tone made it easy to tell how suspicious he was of the colonel. He was likely an officer who just so happened to be on operator duty for the Ildoan side. Judging by the younger tone of his voice, he probably performed his duties precisely by the book.

This wasn't always a bad thing for an officer to do, but such inflexibility could only be tolerated when one had the time—and time was running thin for Colonel Lergen.

"This is an emergency. I need you to get Colonel Calandro on the line for me as soon as possible. Do you think I would call at such an hour via a long- distance line if it wasn't for something important?"

"I can't go to the colonel without a name or reason for you calling."

This was a textbook answer. Realizing that this exchange would get him nowhere, Colonel Lergen tightened his grip around the phone as he shouted through the transceiver.

"Do you have the authority to decide what goes through to the Ildoan General Staff?!"

"This is why I need your name and reason for—"

"I need you to cut the bullshit! Tell him it is a call from a business partner! That should work! I am certain Colonel Calandro will pick up the phone even at this time of night! Or are you prepared to accept the consequences for obstructing this urgent matter with nothing but your own authority?!"

Colonel Lergen placed his trust in Colonel Calandro's quick-wittedness and renown as he demanded this. Though reluctant, the operator finally

obliged.

After a short wait where the colonel wrestled with a deep-seated fear that the phone call would end abruptly, he was eventually connected to the person he had been waiting for.

"Yes, this is Calandro. May I ask who's calling?"

The colonel couldn't be happier to hear his Ildoan counterpart's baritone voice. Now it was time for him to fulfill his role. Colonel Lergen took a deep breath and recomposed himself before engaging in verbal mobility warfare.

"It's me, Colonel Calandro. Do you understand who I am by my voice and speech patterns?"

"…Is that you, Colonel?"

"I appreciate you not saying my name out loud. Please understand that I can't say any more than this."

They didn't know who could be listening. Despite having been shaken awake from his slumber, Colonel Calandro was as sharp as ever.

"Oh no. I had a hunch it might be you, so I jumped out of bed… I'm assuming this is urgent? It sounds like you really gave the officer on duty an earful…"

"We don't have time or leeway to entertain bureaucracy. I hope you can understand."

"Yes, of course. Regardless of the time, I'm sorry I kept you waiting for so long."

"That helps…"

Oh? Colonel Lergen could hear his counterpart gulp through the transceiver.

"So, what ever could be this pressing?"

"Right now, I wish for you to commit to memory the fact that I called you."

General Zettour's orders were clear and simple. The colonel needed to leak the fact that they were going to attack. He was supposed to make it seem like an individual act of kindness and send an anonymous report. By sending an indirect message, he could create a sense of trust and earn Ildoa's favor. It was explained to him that this was all to maintain a diplomatic point of contact for future talks after the invasion.

The idea of such an outlet remaining was almost laughable, but the colonel was dumbfounded by the fact the receiver of the leak had already

chosen for him. General Zettour had hand-picked Colonel Calandro— General Gassman's apprentice—to make sure word of the leak went directly to the Ildoan Army.

The colonel was to strictly maintain a level of trust so that talks would remain possible after the attack. He was not, however, allowed to send them information on the time or place of the attack.

The orders did allow him to suggest that the Ildoans should be on the watch for potential trouble afoot.

It was a dirty trick. Certainly not something the colonel wanted to be a part of.

Even the few words they had exchanged so far were almost enough to crush Colonel Lergen as he made his call. Limited by the information he was allowed to give, time constraints, and his own inner turmoil, this was the best he could do.

"I'm sorry, Colonel Calandro… That's all I can say for now…"

He wrestled with the idea of perhaps saying more, but his throat was so dry that he could barely speak at all. What he was doing was unprecedented. He was the high-ranking officer of an army warning the high-ranking officer of the country they were about to hit in a surprise attack.

In his mind, he could understand how this was an essential part of the operation. It was an underhanded attempt to keep the door on diplomacy from closing all the way.

There was no way General Zettour had any other intentions in his orders. At the same time, Colonel Lergen understood. He knew that he couldn't do this with enthusiasm. This was because he wasn't a monstrous General Staff officer at his core. He was a human.

He would, however, say something…he felt he needed to say. "Colonel Calandro…I pray for your health and fortune in battle."

Praying for your enemy's fortune in battle was a strange thing even at the best of times. Which entity would oversee such a prayer for their enemies? Should he pray to God or the devil?

With these fruitless thoughts running through his mind, he felt like the strange situation he found himself in was toying with him as he tightly gripped the transceiver.

"Sorry for calling you so late at night. I must go now."

This was his subtle way of telling the colonel that they didn't have much

time. Without hesitation, Colonel Calandro let him know that his message had been received.

"You know, I wish we could talk more, but I actually remembered that there's something I need to do as well. Hopefully we can speak again sometime soon."

"I hope so as well. It is one of the reasons I called you tonight… Excuse me, as I can't stay on the phone any longer."

With these as his last words, he hung up the phone. An exhausted Colonel Lergen then sat back in his seat and let the tension drain from his shoulders. This had truly pushed him to his limits.

Although he conveyed to the colonel what he needed to, it was an excellent opportunity to learn the absolute limits of what verbal communication was capable of. This further solidified his respect for Counselor Conrad, which had been planted during his time playing the role of diplomat.

"A soldier may be bound to their unfortunate fate, but a diplomat…isn't something I'd ever want to become."

Though he was acting on General Staff orders, what he had just done amounted to treason. Stifling the overbearing dizziness that set upon him, Colonel Lergen reached for some cigarettes.

"I could never come up with something like this…"

The Imperial Army was trying to preserve its diplomatic channel through Colonels Lergen and Calandro. Though his warning would surely provide the enemy room to maneuver, would this act of friendship really keep diplomatic relations open?

Such a notion was strange, yet it sounded persuasive enough to be worth a try.

He wondered if Ildoa understood the Empire's desire to maintain this diplomatic channel. He assumed so, seeing as Colonel Calandro even mentioned their next discussion at the end of their call. With this, it was safe to believe that Ildoa wouldn't refuse to talk.

"I don't think the Empire could ask for a more suitable pipeline to transfer this information through… Though, I'm not sure I should be happy about my success."

Their plan was a surprise attack, and yet, his phone call would serve as a warning that would reduce the element of surprise. The notion was

inconceivable when going by standard military rationale.

Though a part of him understood why what he did was necessary, he never thought he'd feel this uncomfortable after successfully carrying out his orders.

The unpleasant feeling wasn't something he could describe, which is why he tried to smoke his feelings away. After filling his lungs with cigarette smoke, the most Colonel Lergen could do was breathe out whatever he felt along with a plume of dark gray smoke.

"Why did things turn out this way…?"

He never intended on becoming this kind of officer.

There was never a doubt in his mind that he would be the ideal strategist, the ideal soldier. Creating strategies was his job. He was even ready to take a bullet as he led his troops into battle.

And yet, there he was. He had just made a call that would likely cost him many of his soldiers' lives. Colonel Lergen shook his head, and then, with a cigarette in his mouth, he straightened his hat.

Focusing on the mission at hand was the right thing for a soldier to do at times like these. The colonel had the honor of leading the vanguard for this next operation, and it was his job to take the initiative to do what needed to be done as an officer.

The colonel knew that all of this was merely compensation for his actions. He was an honest enough officer to not run away from the mission at hand, but also not so strong that he could embrace it wholeheartedly.

Even so…

"I've finished my orders. All that is left is for me to lead the charge."

He stood up, then left the communications facility to head for the Eighth Panzer Unit's command center. He told the military police that they were leaving the area and got back into the armored vehicle that brought him there, and was soon hit with a sense of relief.

The burden on his shoulders grew lighter when he announced to the commander that he had returned and headed to the war room.

It was much less mentally tasking to stare at a battle map than it was to stare at a telephone dial in the communications room.

"It won't be long before we start…"

The operation was set to begin at the crack of dawn, together with the sunrise. Colonel Lergen flashed a wry smile as he thought about having a

bitter cup of coffee to take his mind off of things.

"Take my mind off of things, eh…? General Zettour really is the dastardly con artist they say he is."

It was obvious that the idea of being sent off to a different war zone as a form of stress relief was a big, fat lie. Perhaps there was a tiny bit of consideration that had been paid to the colonel's mental health in all of this, but the general's true intention in sending him here was a strategic and cunning diplomatic ploy.

No.

Colonel Lergen deliberately changed his outlook.

"I fulfilled my verbal duty. Now I must do the same on the battlefield."

-x-X-x-

THE SAME DAY, AT ILDOAN BORDER COMMAND

In terms of whether or not Colonel Lergen's message had been conveyed: It most certainly had.

It was a sudden call made in the middle of the night. The contents of which were, quite frankly, as suggestive as they were sudden. Even a dimwitted intelligence agent would place more importance on the fact that there was a call over the contents of said call.

In this regard, Colonel Calandro was definitely far from lacking imagination.

Yes, it was the opposite—he was an outstanding information agent for the Ildoan Army. The moment he hung up the phone, he sprang into action. In this regard, Lergen's words had done their job.

The receiver of the message, still gripping his phone, moved swiftly and decisively. The first thing he did was sound the alarm in the middle of the night to wake up all on-site officers.

He had the half-asleep communication officers go straight to their desks and begin alerting all the necessary parties. An officer would be needed to hand-deliver the finer details of the call, but as he knew time was of the essence, he sent out his first report with haste.

Colonel Calandro could act with great discretion when it was necessary.

"Connect me with the highest-ranking officers you can find! Something is happening over in the Empire. I predict something big is about to happen!"

"You want us to wake up the top brass at a time like this? Not to mention, a conversation like this shouldn't take place over the phone…"

Although the conservative communication officers sought to stick to their regulations, Colonel Calandro remained firm in his orders.

"Do it."

"But, Colonel…"

"If we don't wake them up now, we will surely be hit with a lightning strike."

The time the clock on the wall showed was of no importance. This was an emergency, and the colonel knew it.

"Pardon me, Colonel, but how can you be sure about your source? It was a sudden call made by what appears to be a civilian. I don't feel like this constitutes…"

"Are you trying to pry into the source of my information, officer? Here, my little friend here will tell you everything you need to know."

Colonel Calandro pointed a handgun at the officer.

Colonel Lergen should probably be thankful for the sheer willpower of the man who received his message. Colonel Calandro appeared to have deep trust in Colonel Lergen's phone call.

"Y-you must be joking, Colonel."

"Yes, now make sure it stays a joke by doing your job. And I mean now, officer."

Colonel Calandro was on the brink of shooting the man if he wasn't going to comply. His stony face showed no hesitation, making the gravity of the situation clear to all in the room.

"They reached out to us at a time like this. Even if it is a bluff, we must act swiftly to determine how we will respond!"

Colonel Lergen was a General Staff officer. He wasn't the type to call simply out of friendship.

Nor was there any suggestion that the man was an intelligence agent judging by their history together.

The problem was, why would someone like him make such an urgent call?

Every fiber of Colonel Calandro's being told him that he needed to act

quickly. His suspicions had been right before when it came to the Empire's intent.

For Ildoa, which enjoyed a lasting peace, the colonel's ability to quickly make a decision and immediately kick into gear was highly appropriate.

It wasn't likely that anyone, even General Zettour, would've taken the Lergen call this seriously in the face of Ildoa's unprecedented moment of peace.

That being said, there was…a fatal misdirection in the warning that would be sent out that night.

Colonel Calandro's warning to his superiors would indeed spell out a

strange development coming from the Empire.

In this regard, his warning was accurate. He was sure that something big was about to happen. Colonel Calandro believed that his superiors would analyze the report based on their available information. This was, undoubtedly, precisely what the Ildoan General Staff proceeded to do.

The intel analysts moved swiftly to gather any information they could find on recent developments in the Empire. Despite being summoned in the middle of the night, the agents moved with incredible efficiency. It didn't take them long to come up with their first hypothesis as to what the message could be alluding to.

That hypothesis, however, would have left any Imperial citizen confused were it to reach their ears. The buttons had been fastened in the wrong order from the first analysis.

"This is an emergency! There may be political strife occurring in the Empire…!"

"Message to our embassy in the imperial capital immediately! We need to ascertain what is going on over there…"

"We need information on their politicians and their government policy…!"

The warning was sent. The analysts were able to predict that there was an emergency unfolding as well.

The issue, however, was that people often made assessments based on their own values. They believed that others thought the same way they did.

The cultured Ildoans could only think in terms of how they operated.

Their highly refined minds were what would do the wise Ildoan analysts in.

Unfortunately for the analysts, they had forgotten that the Imperial

politicians were no longer refined in the same way they were.

In other words, what was about to happen to their nation was entirely outside the realm of their wildest imaginations—because their neighbors often thought violence was the only answer. Thus, the Ildoan analysts would put all of their power into reevaluating the Empire's political playing field without even the slightest suspicion that it could be something else…

-x-X-x-

NOVEMBER 11, UNIFIED YEAR 1927, THE IMPERIAL ARMY GENERAL STAFF OFFICE

On the wall of a room in the General Staff Office hung a clock. All eyes watched as the hands slowly ticked their way around in a circle.

The room was filled to the brim with a mix of tranquility and unease.

The General Staff officers, dressed to the nines with their freshly starched uniforms and sporting their flashy aiguillettes, were restless as they watched every tick of the clock go by.

In contrast to his officers, General Zettour was as relaxed as could be.

The tension didn't seem to affect him. He leisurely smoked a cigar and even took out a book to read, as if he wasn't related to anything that was about to happen.

He wore a smile as he flipped through some pages.

As if consumed by the slapstick comedy he was reading, he would elegantly set his cigar down to hide his grin.

"The world is a stage, and its people are the actors. Oh, how the classics can be so interesting."

Taking notes on interesting anecdotes was a hobby of the general's. This definitely wasn't the time or place for hobbies, which meant it was his adjutant's—Lieutenant Colonel Uger's—job to ask for the general's undivided attention.

This was definitely one of the most difficult parts of being an adjutant. It was never easy to stop a superior when he was in the middle of enjoying himself. But, considering that the operation was about to begin…

"Sir… I'm sorry to interrupt you when you seem to be having a good

time, but…"

"Yes, Colonel Uger? Do you want to read this book as well? I wouldn't mind lending it to you once I'm finished."

"No, sir… With all due respect, I…"

"You want to read it that bad? I didn't know you were such a fan of romance novels. Well, there is another I can recommend. One about a man who hates women and a woman who hates men falling in love."

Uger winced at his superior, and by the time he realized he was being teased, General Zettour had already readjusted the cigar in his mouth.

He seemed so free—the way he blew out a big puff of smoke. Due to his rank, Lieutenant Colonel Uger could do nothing more than wince at his superior's remark.

And naturally, the general did the exact same thing.

"You all are far too tense. Maintaining a level of focus is important, but you can't let yourself worry too much. We must trust those on the ground to carry out their duties."

"I feel as if this tension isn't something one can get used to."

"Don't let yourself get confused, Colonel. This is our first time attacking a neutral country, is it not?"

"That's true… You're right about this being the first time we've ever initiated hostilities against a neutral country."

Lieutenant Colonel Uger took out a handkerchief and wiped the sweat off his forehead.

He hadn't thought about it until the general brought it up, but it was true. The feeling of tension that came with starting a war was a first for everyone in the room. It was much more nerve-racking than the moments before any other operation.

There was a cold sweat running down Lieutenant Colonel Uger's back. He glanced over at the general…and he didn't know if he should be astonished or amazed at the sight of General Zettour with his nose plunged back in his book. He was troubled for a moment, but chalked up his superior's bravado as reliable.

That said, he ended up blurting out his thoughts to break the silence that was taking a different toll on his nerves.

"We're set to start the battle on schedule. I only pray that it will end on schedule as well."

"Colonel Uger… I forgot you were still a human." "Sir?"

The general showed Lieutenant Colonel Uger a grin.

"General Staff officers are relatives of the devil. This is especially true when we are making calculations."

Success and failure were both without error when they were the product of calculations. The General Staff officers needed to place the devil into various details, push the limits of human intellect, and pry their victory from the clutches of fate. Total war required them to be monsters.

"You wish to pray for our success? That is something a human would do. You can leave the praying to somebody who isn't an officer. There is a different path for us to take."

Most people would feel anxious as they watched the clock tick away. Nevertheless, Zettour was the lone preacher of war who could show his peers the way.

"Remember this."

The arrogant, intellectual monster that was a true officer was certain of their victory at this moment. Thoroughly calculated numbers never lied. He threw away the human part of him that made mistakes based on hope.

"Why would a General Staff officer ever lose to a regular person? Do you think I'm arrogant? You'd be right. A General Staff officer who has seized the initiative can see a plan through to the end without fail. Half of the battle is in the preparation."

He could accept that the fog of war would always be present and that there would always be resistance—this was to be embraced. It was also understandable that there would be a level of internal conflict when taking decisive actions. Provisions needed to be well-managed so that there would be no food shortages. These were all factored into creating a master plan.

A General Staff officer needed to demonstrate their capability not with their demeanor but with the results they produced. The cogs of the instrument of violence needed to be kept in the best shape as humanly possible. The regularly polished cogs were like gods in each of their own rights. Or perhaps it was in these cogs where the real devils resided. There was no room for a malfunction in the war machine.

General Zettour spoke in a gentle voice to soothe his subordinate. "There is no doubt the first strike will succeed."

Lieutenant Colonel Uger was drawn in by the general's words, which the general reciprocated by continuing his explanation in a kind tone.

"For you see…our Ildoan friends have only ever fought a war in their imaginations. They aren't prepared for what a real battle entails."

"Do you believe our surprise attack will be that effective?"

"We're about to kick them out of their beds. I question whether or not there is a way we can lose. It surely isn't as if our army is a house cat about to go up against a lion."

The general spoke with great confidence. But what spoke even greater volumes than his confidence was the determination that could be seen burning in his eyes. They were thinned by his grin, but there wasn't a hint of laughter in them.

Lieutenant Colonel Uger inadvertently gulped when he accidentally looked directly into them. He was already fully aware of his superior's sheer capability—almost to a fault—but such prowess was only known in the context of operations. To think, the general was this ferocious in the realm of strategy as well.

In that moment, perhaps Lieutenant Colonel Uger had relaxed a bit too much. He showed a curious look of his own. Perhaps it was due to the unexpected circumstances at hand, or maybe it was because he had heard Deputy Director Zettour always had a plan B.

Whichever the case may have been, his mouth would open before he finished thinking his thought through.

"What will we do if this fails?"

Lieutenant Colonel Uger regretted the question immediately after asking it. It was a flippant thing to ask, considering the immense anxiety permeating throughout the room concerning a potential strategic setback. The lieutenant colonel stood straight up in attention, ready to apologize, when General Zettour motioned for him to relax.

The general closed the romantic comedy he had been reading…and rubbed his neck with his hand.

"It will be my head on the chopping block if we fail. Though that's simply a matter of time in and of itself."

"Sir?"

"It's nothing," General Zettour said as he shook his head before returning to his cigar. The serene look in his expression wasn't something usually

expected from a commanding officer in the moments immediately preceding an attack.

But this demeanor was natural for him, as any nervousness that came at such a time was something he had long gotten over.

"People all die eventually. The way I see it, we may as well spend what remains of our life fighting until the very end."

The general then looked to the clock. It was the time he had decided on for the attack. He could never forget it, and even if he did, the mounting nervousness of the surrounding officers wouldn't let him. The difference in their demeanors also served as a reminder that the majority of the aiguillette- clad officers in there were still human on the inside.

Genuine General Staff officers were hard to come by—it was an almost- saddening fact. This was also why, however, the Empire was in its current situation.

As this fact crossed his mind, a fleeting childishness welled up inside of General Zettour. He wondered if the clock on the wall was actually accurate. After all, it was nothing more than a random clock on the wall. For all they knew, it could be a few minutes off. He checked his watch, and sure enough, it appeared to align perfectly with the clock on the wall.

It was a perfect example of preestablished harmony. How unwarlike.

After all was said and done, though they were about to start a war, it was nothing more than a limited operation, a strategic military maneuver that was merely one part of the larger war front. It was wholly evident and as precious as could be.

The commanding officers on the field would likely compete for strategic tactfulness. As someone thrown into the confusion of the east, he could only be jealous.

That said, this time it was he who was starting things. He would pull the trigger, which meant that he was no longer in a place to make idle complaints.

When they attacked Ildoa, the Unified States would join the war. It would make things much more difficult. He knew this much. Even when considering this, his calculations dictated that the attack was necessary… He knew he couldn't put off the decision much longer, which was precisely why, at least at that moment, he wanted to fight a limited war as a strategist.

Or…what may become his first and last war for glory. It would soon be

time to start the final battles of this war.

He took one last puff of his cigar before fixing his posture. It was time. As soon as the clock struck the planned time, General Zettour muttered to the rest of the room:

"It's time for what should be an entertaining battle. Let's get started."

Meanwhile, the hands of the clock hit the same predetermined time elsewhere.

The commander of the Salamander Kampfgruppe stationed on the Ildoan border, Lieutenant Colonel Degurechaff, shares simple instructions with her troops.

"My comrades! I have wonderful news!"

Tanya makes her passion apparent as she bears in mind that this is the first bit of good news since the formation of the Salamander Kampfgruppe. It's always a thrilling thing for operations and strategy to come together.

"We will be taking the initiative on this attack!"

An attack. A full-on, all-out attack. A clear one at that. No more defensive mobility warfare, delayed engagements, or waiting on their enemies to make a counterattack.

Their plan is to invade the enemy—plain and simple. It is stressful for a service worker to sit and wait for complaints to process to come their way, and anyone has the dream of smacking an uppity customer upside the head at least once in their life. To actually be allowed to do so would surely make for stress-free work.

"We are free to act as we wish this time! We no longer have to tap dance around our enemies! This mission should be amply easier than what we're used to dealing with!"

Attacking Ildoa certainly isn't a good thing. Everyone knows that we shouldn't do it. Tanya knows for sure that this operation is hardly clever, but she can't say it out loud. Either way, from a commander's perspective, this should be an extremely easy operation.

"It's time for a fun battle for once. I want you to enjoy yourselves, comrades."

Tanya folds her hands behind her back and emboldens her troops with a grin.

This is how the ancient Romans used to do it. It's a traditional and reliable doctrine, proven repeatedly in combat, to inspire your troops' fighting spirit

by logically explaining their strengths.

-x-X-x-

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A fighting spirit without a foundation in physics is worthless. But a spirit built upon something true isn't something that can be taken lightly. Tanya needs each and every one of her soldiers to perform to the best of their abilities. It is only natural for a managerial staffer to invigorate her subordinates before they get to work on the ground.

This is why after her speech, Tanya seeks out the leader of each branch of her Kampfgruppe. She starts with the man leading the mechanized units.

"Captain Ahrens. Our speed is everything in this battle. Make sure you are where you need to be at every step of the operation."

"We'll aim to break through the enemy line." "You'll aim to do it? Are you shitting me, man?"

Tanya sighs before correcting her subordinate. We can't have them misunderstand something this crucial.

"Breaking through their line isn't a goal you should strive for. It's something you are responsible for achieving. You will break through their line. At all costs, no matter what."

Time will be of the essence in their battle against Ildoa. The operation's success relies on this man's troops keeping up with the clock. Time is the resource the operation lacks most. There is minimal room for error in this regard.

I wonder how many examples there are in history where a plan allowed for this little redundancy?

I doubt there were none. But, out of the few there were, how many actually managed to pull out a victory? Shockingly enough, it falls on Tanya's shoulders to make sure that this operation goes down as one of the few that does succeed.

Sending empty words of encouragement and expecting your subordinates to perform is something a useless superior does! They are the worst cut of manager, the type that ignores reality and still demands results.

In more regular times, Tanya would snap at a superior who tried to attempt this. But things are different this time.

"I am confident in your ability as an expert to successfully carry out your part of the mission. There is, however, no need for you to pray for our victory. For you see, the devil is in the details in this one."

The only challenge laid out on the table before them is penetrating the enemy line. Conversely, any other variables and factors that play a role in our

success are nigh nonexistent.

Let's take the dumb example of a defeat due to our reinforcements lagging behind. Even the mere thought is utter nonsense. We'll have some of our best units standing by behind us, prepared to charge. The top has made all the necessary arrangements for our success. The vanguard just needs to keep to its schedule.

Whether or not the reinforcements lag behind and cause the operation to fail…isn't Tanya's responsibility. And this is a good thing! She's exempt from watching over the collective charge.

"The success of this operation rides on your performances. Now, our Kampfgruppe has proven effective time and time again when penetrating even the Federation troops."

With this in mind, Tanya speaks with great joy:

"We will have control of the skies, under which you will lead the charge on the ground. All you must do is what you always do… That is, unless one of you wants to argue that the Ildoan Army poses more of a threat than the Federation's and will be too much for our regular tactics. Surely there isn't someone so stupid in our ranks."

Captain Ahrens appears to understand her as he gives a slight nod. And why wouldn't he? My logic is flawless. A good citizen needs to carry out their duty with integrity.

"What we will enact today is a beautifully executed division of labor, comrades."

The Kampfgruppe will open up the path for their soldiers to penetrate and conquer the country. A classical, traditional approach that is also relatively modern.

War's truths should be practiced with extreme fidelity. It's always good to bear in mind the basics.

"If we're backed by solid reinforcements, it should seal the deal. It's the art of war. Comrades, let us show the Ildoans the culmination of our hard work in the east."

The classic economist Ricardo would appreciate this beautiful separation of tasks. Some jest that the simplification of work has removed joy from labor…but it is fine for war to be simple. Tanya will never be able to appreciate the joys of war. That said, I'm also not so arrogant as to interject my position onto others… I am a pacifist, after all.

Tanya waves her hands and calls out to the officer watching from the side. "First Lieutenant Tospan. I won't order you to die. But I want you to have your soldiers march like their lives depend on it. Move forward with all your

might."

"In other words, this will be easier than what we do in the east!" "I'm glad you're clever enough to understand!"

She cheerfully converses with the commander of the foot soldiers and hopes for a skillful execution of their duties.

The officer, who is willing to fight to the death, will probably continue his charge until the orders come for him to stop.

The next person Tanya approaches is the officer overseeing the artillery.

He has a grim expression about him.

Unlike the other officers, he's not trying to hide his dejection going into this next battle.

And who could blame him? After all, his job is to drag the army's cannons along the charge to keep up with everyone else in a battle of maneuver warfare. And these cannons are massive. To supply cover-fire in maneuver warfare when invading enemy territories is one of the most labor- intensive tasks in the army. He and his troops are more likely to be killed by their workloads than by a stray bullet.

Fortunately for him, there is good news.

"Captain Meybert, unfortunately, I don't think you will be seeing much action for this operation. Friendly troops will be taking care of the artillery for our Kampfgruppe this time."

"The artillery division is here?"

Captain Meybert looks up with hope in his eyes. The man, however, is a veteran—he's been betrayed by hope enough times to know not to trust it. This hesitation of his is likely a learned disillusionment. It's a truly saddening sight to see. This time, though, he could believe Tanya. The Artillery Division—in other words, the only true god worth praising—is there watching over them. The General Staff…or perhaps more aptly, General Zettour, has really pulled through for them this time.

"We have a truly benevolent god watching over us for this offensive. He is the benevolent deity of slinging missiles."

Their artillery will be where they need it, when they need it. "S-so, what you mean to say is…?"

"A barrage of missile fire is only a quick phone call away. We've been given priority for their usage, even a field general would be jealous."

"I'd be more than willing to sell my soul to this god you speak of if all that is true."

Tanya finds his joke quite funny but keeps her laugh to herself upon seeing the look on the man's face. For a logical liberal like myself, I can't quite understand how he speaks in such definite terms. Nevertheless, it's clear that the man is quite serious. The colorlessness in his eyes and voice makes this abundantly clear.

"I wouldn't lie to you. We'll have a dense curtain of shiny missiles assigned to support our thrust. They even sent self-propelled artillery and trucks to make sure everything could keep up."

Despite the scarcity of such resources in our nation, clever planning and effort made it possible to procure what we needed for this operation. Thanks to his time as an operations manager and his experience in the east, General Zettour's expertise as a leader has achieved masterful heights. He knows where he needs his resources to be and gets them there, and executes his logistics with incredible leadership.

It almost makes Tanya regret her decision to seek out a new job. Had he been in charge when this war started…

I'm sure most workers feel this regret when they find better management on the way out.

The backing of her outstanding superior makes it possible for Tanya to give Captain Meybert her guarantee with a big grin.

"The operation can be done if all you have to do is haul the equipment, right?"

"Along the roads? That should be easy enough…"

"In exchange for that, just make sure you keep strictly to the schedule. Do you copy?"

Captain Meybert's firm nod suggests this didn't even need to be said. I'm sure he's the type who'd rather load himself into an artillery and launch himself to where he needs to be rather than be late. I know it's a silly analogy, but honestly, I wouldn't put it past him. That's just how elated this man is by the news and maddened he is from the war. A staff that enjoys doing their job always performs better than those who dislike it. This is just what it is to be human. As much as Tanya dislikes war, having a band of

hardworking fellows who will gladly go out and fight for her is a nice thing.

The last officer she visits is none other than her faithful first officer. "Now, Major Weiss. We'll be splitting the mage battalion into two. You'll

be defending our main troops. I'm sorry, but you'll have to bear most of the burden on the front with Grantz."

"Understood. And at which crucial point will you be stationed, Colonel?" "Me? I will be pushing you around from behind. Does that make you

jealous?"

Tanya shows an arrogant attitude, but she knows that her subordinates aren't so foolish as to be tricked by her vague allusions.

Surely enough, Major Weiss makes his comprehension apparent with a vigorous nod.

"I am. Being on tactical support duty must be nice."

"That is correct. I'll be working directly with the general. My only concern is how jealous you all may get."

Tanya is to be a pawn that is sent where she's needed. She figures that, at the very least, she will get extra time to rest until she is deployed. But… where and what she is needed for depends wholly on who will need her.

First Lieutenant Grantz can't hide his wide-eyed disbelief. "For General Zettour…?"

"What's this, First Lieutenant Grantz? Are you interested in working with the general again? If you'd like, I could have your company fight alongside mine."

"Allow us to remain where we are! Somebody more suitable than us underlings should deal with those higher up!"

This is an exemplary answer. First Lieutenant Grantz shakes his head at what may just be the maximum velocity humanly achievable to show he'd rather not deal with the general. To say it isn't a bit overexaggerated would be a lie. Feeling a tinge of suspicion, Tanya decides to question the first lieutenant's reaction.

"Come on, now. There's no need to hold yourself back. It's completely understandable that a first lieutenant from the military academy would have an interest in moving up in the ranks. I certainly wouldn't want to hold any of my soldiers back."

"I appreciate your kindness, but you really needn't mind me or my career!"

"Have you no interest in building a relationship with the general? I suggest you reconsider the value of a strong relationship with him."

The Imperial Army may be a strict meritocracy void of any blatant favoritism, but a superior's backing is still a powerful thing. Without General Zettour's good word, for example, Tanya would never be where she is despite being the youngest person present.

Her objective self-awareness lets Tanya know that she is blessed with good superiors in this way.

"I place great value on your ability, First Lieutenant Grantz. I know you could do good work for the general if given the opportunity."

One must always be sincere with the handling of another's career. Even if the intended purpose for her subordinates is to be meat shields on the battlefield, they are still individuals. With Tanya being the earnest person she is, she would never do something so shameful as to keep them down, career- wise.

"Is there anything I could do as your superior? I would gladly write you a letter of recommendation."

"Please have mercy! I don't know if the general will send me into the enemy's artillery fire or throw me at their panzer units—whichever it is, one thing is for sure, his assignments are always a one-way trip to steel and hellfire!"

"What?"

He seems so desperate—as if a million Federation snipers are watching his every move. First Lieutenant Grantz rejects Tanya's offer with a stern face and loud voice.

"I simply wish to leave it to those fit for greatness to become great!"

Being the rational civilian she is, Tanya can't understand why warmongers loudly declare their hatred for working in the rear. That said, she is aware that people who think this way exist. If I'm to add anything to this, it is that Tanya also accepts that people have different values and has the good sense not to force her own sensibilities onto them. She is confident that this is part of what makes her a good individual.

Thus she understood his sentiment and, to show him this, waved her hand with a grimace.

"Did you hear that, first officer? The youth these days appear to lack ambition."

Shouldn't humans be allowed to be more honest with their desires? With this fundamental question in her mind, Tanya would soon discover that his misunderstanding derives from his narrow perspective.

"I've seen how General Zettour has used you on the battlefield.

Regretfully, I wish to keep myself out of that position if possible."

Her first officer's words reach her brain, and she ruminates over them for a moment.

"Oh?"

Tanya crosses her arms and thinks… He's right; I certainly haven't had it easy.

Though General Zettour has propped Tanya up, he has yet to properly compensate her for her work. If her salary doesn't jump up to match her responsibilities, then she can't justify her current workload. Her logical, younger soldiers know only to do the amount of work they are paid to do. It makes sense that they wouldn't go and make more work for themselves.

"You have a point… Now that you mention it, I have been put through the wringer."

This is why she is trying to change jobs, after all. Thinking back on it, it is fairly simple. The unimaginable psychology of this generation not wishing to advance their career becomes more palatable when looked at through this lens of cost-effectiveness. The cost of societal status is what it takes to maintain such prestige.

That must be it.

With this realization confirming once more the greatness of the market, Tanya is enveloped in an unwavering sense of relief.

"Hearing you say that tells me I trained my subordinates to have clear- eyed principles. I extend my thanks to you, First Lieutenant Grantz."

With these words, what tension there is in the room quickly dissipates. With boisterous laughter filling the air, I take pride in the job I have done in taking everyone's minds off the upcoming battle.

Though, as soon as the tension leaves my first officer's shoulders, he quickly brings the topic back to work.

"I do question, though, if this is a proper allocation of our manpower. I don't mean to suggest his troops are supplementary, but to have First Lieutenant Wüstemann held back as reserves…"

My first officer so aptly points out that there is much to be concerned

about having the more inexperienced units hang back to act as emergency support. The more difficult an emergency, the harder it will be for them to execute the necessary support effectively. Though his concern isn't unwarranted, it comes down to a balancing act.

"It's a bit complicated, but reserves are often used as gap pluggers in maneuver warfare. We certainly can't afford to pull our strongest units off the front."

Though it is vital to prepare for emergencies, the mission itself will require the proper personnel to be carried out effectively in the first place. The placement of competent soldiers is a difficult decision that befalls a division thin on human resources. Using what we have effectively means accepting a certain level of risk and compromise.

"We'll keep everyone where they are. You and First Lieutenant Grantz will lead the charge, and First Lieutenant Wüstemann and I will fluff our pillows in the rear."

I'm going to get the shut-eye I deserve. Tanya grins at her subordinates… though she is fully aware that it isn't an ideal position to be in. First Lieutenant Serebryakov, who also knows of the difficulties of rapid reactions to a hot battlefield, makes no effort to hide a massive sigh.

"And we will inevitably wake up at the first sound of an alarm…"

The grimness in her tone comes from experience. What speaks more to this point is the almost-commendable level of defeat in her expression. Her adjutant's overt wincing shows that she definitely doesn't want to do this.

"It sounds like you know your stuff, adjutant. It is exactly like the Rhine." "Yes, Colonel… I'm not looking forward to working twenty-four seven. "I know, I know. I'm not in high spirits about it, either."

One thing a superior should never do is expose her quibbles to her subordinates. However, I must say that I agree wholeheartedly with First Lieutenant Serebryakov's complaints.

Were we on regular scramble duty, we could take turns taking time off. But as the entire company will be on watch twenty-four seven, it doesn't matter if we are sleeping, eating, or bathing—we will have to answer the alarm at the drop of a hat. There will be no time for us to rest.

Even worse is the fact that there aren't enough reserve troops to support this battle. Worst-case scenario, we may have to deploy daily for twenty-four hours at a time—so always.

"Well, anyway, Major Weiss. You make sure to charge relentlessly, no matter what happens. I'm expecting you to clear out the enemy nice and quickly."

"Yes, Lieutenant Colonel! I plan on making sure you get the beauty sleep you need!"

"I expect nothing less from you. The last thing you want is for me to have to fly out and kick you in the rear to get you moving."

"I'm not the same as I was in Dacia. You can count on me."

The historians kept detailed records of how things started. The first attack was made at the exact same time as their declaration of war. In this regard, the Imperial Foreign Office, who had been resting on their laurels up until then, spared no effort. Without a second of delay, they delivered their declaration of war to the Ildoan embassy in the Empire.

By the time the stunned Ildoan ambassadors snapped out of their stupor and sought out their Imperial counterparts for confirmation on the situation, missiles were already laying into their nation's border, lighting up the Ildoan morning sky.

The aerial assault also started around the same time. With each division double-checking to ensure there were no orders to hold, they flew over the Ildoan border and attacked their respective targets.

General Zettour's ability to expertly focus an aerial assault had been ingrained into him in the east, and he was thorough with his practice.

He'd wagered everything on the first all-out attack. Advancing the aerodrome up to the front line was only the beginning. In addition to assembling parts, ammunition, and fuel, the army assembled maintenance personnel from all over the Empire—even the education department—to maximize their sorties.

To make repeated sorties possible, the air traffic controllers who had experienced aggressive air warfare during the Western Air Battle were purposely deployed instead of the usual personnel who only handled interceptions.

All of these arrangements were made to ensure control over the sky. The efforts to secure a localized advantage in Ildoa at the expense of the

education division, the western industrial zone's air defense, and air support over the entire eastern defensive line and the imperial capital would pay off.

The boots on the ground advanced with the air fleet controlling the skies. With an unprecedented level of aerial supremacy for the modern Imperial

Army, they could even send in their railway guns to pulverize the Ildoan line of defense.

Steel and blood rocked the Ildoan territory like a shock wave that quickly made its way to the nation's political apparatus. Anyone affected by the war was quickly thrown into a panic, and before they knew it, the collective panic amassed into a whirlwind of turmoil.

The same went for Colonel Calandro, who had been waiting all night for more information to come from either the Empire or his own nation's border control. He was the one who sounded the alarm, after all. His intention was to prepare for whatever was to come, so he wasn't surprised when a panicked officer came stumbling into his office.

"C-C-Colonel!"

The hysterical officer was a young first lieutenant. The way he tripped over himself as he rushed into the room alerted Colonel Calandro to the severity of the situation.

Colonel Calandro took a deep breath and, prepared for whatever conspiracy was afoot, questioned the officer with a firm tone.

"Is it a coup d'état? Or is the government suppressing its people? A political purge? It doesn't matter what it is. Just tell me what you know!"

"Th-th-the Empire, they…" "The Empire?"

He assumed this meant something had happened in the Empire. Though the man's hesitation was unsettling, he waited for him to continue.

"They're on the move! They've mobilized!"

Colonel Calandro didn't quite follow what his subordinate was trying to convey.

"They're coming!"

His speech didn't make sense. Whatever the officer was trying to say, he was too flustered to communicate it. The man was acting completely hysterical, and this young officer, in particular, wasn't the type to lose his composure… He was, after all, an officer entrusted with passing along messages from command. What happened to his usual composure? What was

wrong with him?

"First Lieutenant, take a deep breath. What do you mean by the Empire is on the move?"

"Th-th-the Empire, the Empire! They've begun! Their attack! They've declared war!"

"Come again?"

What was the man trying to say? The colonel picked up on keywords that soon sunk in. He could guess what the man was trying to say, but unable to process it, he just parroted the man's words back to him.

"They've…declared war…? Absurd! They declared war…?!"

The colonel couldn't finish his sentence with on us—he didn't have the time. He quickly turned around, leaving the officer behind as he began to run. Rushing right through the panicked and confused military camp, he ran directly to main control, where he soon met his peers.

They all had the same unvoiced opinion on their expressionless faces.

Their sentiment: How could this be?

Far off across the country, Ildoa's capital was hit by the same shock waves. The distance from the defensive line did not make the tremors feel any less powerful. In fact, it was fair to say the shock waves had grown even stronger by the time they reached the capital.

Spittle flew through the air as each of the high-ranking officers screamed at each other.

"Why would the Empire do this?!"

It wasn't dreaming. It wasn't some nightmare they could wake up from by a pinch of the cheek. That wouldn't stop a few of them from trying, though. The pain that ran through their cheeks told them that this was reality, and that the reality they thought they knew wasn't dictated by the same logic they lived by.

Perhaps if they played a more active role in the war, they would've had a better perspective. The logic the Imperial General Staff Office adhered to was different than Ildoa's. It was a bestial and monstrous perspective that led to rational action.

How sad—or fortunate, as it may be—that the Ildoans never fully understood the concept of total war. Even their army thought of war as an exception and peace as the norm.

The military and diplomatic consensus of the Royal Ildoan Army was to

maximize their own gains under the flag of neutrality and staying out of the war. They believed this was the best way they could maintain good relations with all of their neighboring countries. For countries warring with the Empire, this stance was a victory in and of itself as it created room for a wedge to be placed in the Ildoa-Empire Alliance.

They could also act as a mediator for the Empire and the rest of the world. Even if it was nothing more than a formality, it was a proper diplomatic route for the Empire. For the Empire, which had long endured an all-out war, Ildoa could guide them to the end of hostilities it so desired. The Ildoans could send the Empire strategic resources in secret and create helpful, though limited, supply lines for the country.

The nation's armed neutrality alliance with the Unified States had been signed after the end of the war came into view. This rare strategic foothold Ildoa created for its neutrality seemed inviolable, and its leaders figured they could earn favor from both sides. Even if they failed to mediate, it wouldn't have been damaging to their own nation. Any interests they lost out on could slowly be reclaimed from the Empire after the war. Moreover, there still should have been plenty of room for new gains to be made with other countries that sought alliances with Ildoa.

For the most part, Ildoa should have been able to accomplish all of this without gambling their lives by entering the war. They were, after all, an invaluable pipeline for countries on both sides to reach out to each other through. There wasn't a single nation that harbored ill will toward Ildoa, certainly not to the extent they would risk losing the diplomatic channel it provided. If any country were to go on the offensive between Ildoa and the Empire, it surely would have been Ildoa. Even then, this decision was only to be made when the Empire's defeat was clearly on the horizon, and their participation in the war would be in name only. The nation's border was never supposed to see any action from this war.

The Ildoans thought this, at least. It was the assumption at the time.

Though, the shell-shocked generals now knew that this was naive.

The news that the Imperial Army had crossed their border hit the Ildoan Army officials like a bolt out of the blue.

Though dumbfounded by the incomprehensible situation…this, in a way, meant that they would share something new with their old ally: the reality of total war.

They were now both companions in this damned world of war.

Under the mantra of necessity, the Empire welcomed their neighbor to this new world with a brilliant display of fanfare that lit up their border.

Recorded history, on occasion, tells the tale of unintended coincidences bringing about unforeseen amendments to the narrative at the time. What would come to be known as the fight for the highway was one of these occasions.

Students who would go on to learn about this strange military achievement would have as hard a time understanding the event as their teachers did explaining it. To sum it up shortly, it could be described as an unexpected example of leadership. This, of course, would reference the charge led by Colonel Lergen and the Eighth Panzer Regiment.

Nobody anticipated that something like this would happen. After all, General Zettour wanted aerial superiority to be achieved before the charge, the results of which were the image of perfection. After the panzer units broke through the border defenses at a single point, the plan's second phase immediately followed: to contain the Ildoan garrisons.

The fact of the matter was, with most of the enemy forces positioned quite a distance away from the border, the tank unit could advance easily. The tanks moved quickly through the defenseless area, and everything was going according to the Empire's plan.

Therefore, it was only natural that even the great General Zettour assumed the Eighth Panzer Regiment would move forward according to schedule. No matter how flawless the plan was, however, people were never without flaws.

Even with the best aerial support an army could ask for, it was impossible to completely protect the forces on the ground from enemy planes. The first part of the coincidence started with the smoothness of the Eighth Panzer Regiment's advance. The regiment would break through the border and keep pushing through the nation according to plan. Lieutenant General Jörg's forces advanced with great speed, even when compared to other friendly troops. The lieutenant general was crammed into a tank with the other commanding officers, who all took the initiative to lead the charge. Morale was high among both him and his officers.

The speed of the advance had Colonel Lergen—who, as the chief of staff, acted as the intermediary between Lieutenant General Jörg and each of his units—at the edge of his seat. They were moving as fast as they could without breaking formation.

Just when they reached their maximum velocity, the enemy showed themselves in the skies above.

"Enemy air!"

Colonel Lergen knew what he needed to do when the warning was shouted through his radio.

"Abandon all vehicles! Get off the road!"

The colonel was mid-leap out of the communications vehicle as he gave these orders. Though the trucks were driving at a speed the foot soldiers could keep up with, the force with which he hit the ground served as a good reminder of the strength of gravity. Though the impact was painful, it didn't stop him from moving.

His body had learned the tremendous threat an aerial attack could pose. It was something anyone fighting in the war would inevitably learn, whether they liked it or not. In any case, the open roads posed the greatest risk. Whether the enemy bandits were mages or planes, anything out in the open would make for a perfect target.

"Take cover! Get off the roads! Move, move, move!"

While the driver did what he could to conceal his vehicle, Colonel Lergen continued to yell for his men to take cover.

Altitude alone was a dangerous weapon in itself. So much so that the colonel and his men were reduced to hiding in the mud! Pressing his men to hurry, he threw away concern for their formation as he demanded his men find cover.

"Spread out and get down! Don't bunch up!"

The most they could do was find modest cover and protection. Even the most basic machine guns mounted on enemy planes were more than enough to tear a person apart. The soldiers got down and hid, then prayed that any bullets wouldn't find them.

What was most infuriating for the Imperial forces about find themselves under enemy fire was that the encounter was a complete and utter coincidence.

The planes were a rogue unit that, upon learning they were being invaded,

made the executive decision to take flight in an attempt to ascertain the situation. They figured it was better than sitting on their hands and waiting for their planes to be destroyed at the airfields without ever taking off.

The rogue commander's quick decision-making resulted in them evading the risk of crossing paths with the Imperial planes that would soon destroy their aircraft and runways. Without even knowing how lucky they were, the planes flew north, intent on conducting reconnaissance.

This was when they saw a vanguard of mechanized infantry making their way down the highway. Upon their discovery, the first natural course of action was for the pilots to try and send an urgent report to the Ildoan Army. The poor reception, however, made the decision for them.

Though with a moment's hesitation, the pilots who had initially set out on conducting reconnaissance decided to turn around. If that was all that happened, the Imperial soldiers would've finished the encounter with the only casualties their muddy uniforms.

The Ildoan soldiers, however, hadn't come empty-handed—and they would unleash their payload. Their planes were equipped with Ildoan-made eighty-kilo bombs, Commonwealth-made air-to-surface rockets, and auto cannons made using global licenses.

For the Ildoan soldiers, the use of these weapons essentially amounted to test fire.

They went straight for the head of the garrison and dropped their ordinance before heading back to their base. The scope of the attack made it clear that it was a minor encounter. For the panzer units on the receiving end of the blast, it was, at most, a decent nuisance—nothing more than suppressive fire, with only a few tanks near the front lost.

War, however, was full of unpredictable chaos.

The majority of the Imperial officers and soldiers solemnly lifted their heads from the mud to watch the planes return, only to discover that their operation, which had been so smooth up until a moment ago, had quickly devolved into disarray.

"The commander has been killed!"

Realizing what had happened, the Eighth Panzer Regiment officers rushed to the front of the vanguard to find Commander Jörg and most of the other staff officers he had been riding with in the armored truck completely blown apart. It was a glaring example of the main problem with commanding

officers leading charges.

With Colonel Lergen acting as the commander's intermediary, he had to accept that he was now the next highest-ranking officer left after the perplexing random encounter.

He used the communications vehicle, which had been left unscathed, to contact each of the other divisions, and it confirmed he was indeed the highest-ranking officer on the field.

The senior officers who had been riding with Lieutenant General Jörg all jumped up two ranks. Sadly, the only officers left were himself and a young major. This sparse lineup almost had him thinking of borrowing some commanders from the regiment or battalion.

"It appears only you and I are left, Major Joachim." "…What are your orders, Colonel Lergen?"

The major's worried expression was both tragic and brave.

Hm. Colonel Lergen showed a wry smile.

I know I'm young for a colonel, but just how many years have passed since Major Joachim graduated from the military academy?

The major was practically a child, barely old enough to be a captain. This made the colonel realize that he himself was one of the older members of the current army. It also made the colonel even more aware of the war they had been fighting for far too long.

"…I'll exercise the right to command. Lord almighty, to think a mere colonel would have to command an entire division."

He let a sigh escape before alerting the rest of the division that he would be taking over from the communications vehicle. Fortunately, the attack hadn't done too much damage to their equipment or ability to send out orders.

The issue was who would be giving the orders.

Colonel Lergen laid out a map to discuss their next course of action but was soon disappointed to learn that the major didn't have much advice to offer.

"We still have aerial superiority to a certain extent, but it's hardly perfect.

I think it may be too risky for us to continue our attack in broad daylight." "What are you suggesting?"

"I think we should wait for the cover of night before advancing further." A dubious Colonel Lergen looked to see if the major was joking, but was

met by a deadpan, stern gaze. Apparently, he was being serious. He knew what the major was trying to say, of course. Birds of prey slept during the night. Therefore, it wasn't as if the young major's suggestion was without logic. With time being of the essence, however, it was out of the question. Colonel Lergen showed a grim expression as he quietly shook his head.

"We won't make it on time if we wait until nightfall."

The regiment would be better off pushing forward during the day than wasting its precious time watching the clock. Yes, it would be risky, but that was how little they could afford to lose any more time. It was imperative that their charge be successful.

This was the southern highway that Ildoa was so proud of. Though not without the occasional car or horse showing up every now and then, compared to the quagmire in the east, there was nothing standing between them and their target. Not only this, but the enemy had yet to set up a defensive line. Though the time they could use this road was limited, it was a direct path to the Ildoan capital just sitting there, waiting for them to use it.

"We're in a race against the clock. We can't give the enemy the time they need to react."

"But, what if there's another—"

"Major Joachim, if we stop now, General Jörg's death will have been for nothing."

As a result of their ambush being effective, any enemy attacks were still sporadic.

The division was backed by aerial superiority and strong reinforcements following them. He only had to close his eyes to remember the difficulties he suffered in the east, and a way presented itself.

As long as they could continue their charge, they could break through the enemy line, for now.

Any time given to the enemy was time for them to react. A wall could easily be erected at any given moment. They would be sent back to the drawing board if they didn't complete their great leap forward before the enemy could create a defensive line.

"This is why General Zettour was such a stickler about timing…"

It was the same reason Lieutenant General Jörg was obsessed with spearheading the charge—he knew the importance of speed for this operation. The colonel couldn't in his right mind succeed the man only to

throw away what he strived for.

With a sigh, Colonel Lergen reached for the paper tobacco that had been crushed when he jumped out of the truck only moments earlier. He smoked a smooshed cigarette while taking a good look at the map. Judging by the enemy's movements, it was clear what they had to do.

So long as they pushed forward, there was a path for them. The point they sought to breach was still wide open. But if they remained idle? It could close at any given moment.

So they needed to seize this opportunity.

They continued their charge using the predetermined path. It was a difficult decision to make with their exact location having reached enemy hands.

"Major Joachim, I bet you would feel more comfortable if we had an umbrella over our heads, wouldn't you?"

"If they can cover the skies above us, it would certainly be nice…"

If they were going to have to stop every time a plane sporadically crossed their path, Colonel Lergen figured it could have a serious impact on their speed. He wanted someone covering the skies directly above them.

The issue was that their aerial forces were already on a strict rotation in order to keep the bulk of the enemy planes at bay. If things were moving at even 80 percent according to plan, then they didn't have any manpower left to cover them.

General Zettour's plan was a finely tuned masterpiece. He undoubtedly trimmed all of the fat from his orchestra so it could play his battle song. His war machine was moving with all its parts in perfect unison. There was, however, someone the colonel knew he could call. Someone who could be considered a spare part.

Knowledge was and always will be power.

"I suppose I must recognize the power of friendship."

Connections needed to be used where connections were had. As Colonel Lergen walked next to a communications officer, he flashed a slight grin. The young General Staff officer who followed the new commander gave him a look of concern.

The colonel could understand his doubts about the vanguard, and taking all risks into consideration was an important thing. Nevertheless, Major Joachim was a proper field officer. He couldn't allow himself to show any

anxiety to the officers and soldiers around him.

Upon picking up on the young officer's deficiencies, the colonel decided to offer him words to calm him.

"I'm going to send a request for backup. I'm thinking two mage companies should be more than enough for the job. What do you think?"

"Where are you going to find two companies' worth of mages?"

"I can't have you doubting me like this. When you've been a General Staff officer as long as I have, you learn about a reserve division or two that's always ready for action."

"My apologies, Colonel. Thank you, for everything…"

I should correct myself, Colonel Lergen grumbled to himself internally. Major Joachim is absolutely stricken with anxiety. What exactly is there to worry about, though? Given how simple a battle this is, and how clear our mission is…what exactly is there to get so worked up about…? I can almost feel my neck wanting to tilt my head in bewilderment.

"…Now that I think about it, the girl I'm about to call often cocks her head to the side, too."

His sudden realization was either a great discovery or a progression in his understanding of the girl. It wasn't the first time Lieutenant Colonel Degurechaff popped up in his mind that day. Though he was reluctant to call for her, one mustn't let their trump cards go to waste.

"Give me your radio."

As soon as he took the transceiver from the communications officer, Colonel Lergen sent out a long-distance message. He definitely didn't want to send a cipherless message… He thought for a moment about what he could do.

"If I'm going to send this with a cipher, I need to figure something out."

Though, it was Degurechaff he was dealing with. An officer who could be trusted was a truly wonderful thing.

"Lead Kampfgruppe to Assistant Commander, requesting deployment."

While the major likely wouldn't comprehend this message, it was more than enough. He decided to use this time to order a short break for the regiment.

The regiment was just finishing up clearing off the roads and collecting the remains of those who passed in the attack when Colonel Lergen saw a

surprised Major Joachim running up to him.

"Th-there's a report for you, sir! The mage troops are here! Two companies from the 203rd Aerial Mage Battalion have come to support us! They said they could begin covering us immediately!"

"Is that right? Let's make good use of them."

"I'm sorry, but I have to ask. How did you get them to come here?"

With reverence in the major's eyes, he stared at Colonel Lergen. The colonel nonchalantly hit him with a missile of his own.

"I borrowed them from General Zettour's pocket." "I can't believe he would lend them to you."

"He did so in secret."

It was hard to describe the blank look on the major's face upon hearing this. Perhaps this was the reason seniors tended to pick on fresh blood: to see such a face. It was the duty of the seniors to train the heedless young officers…and it also served as a breath of fresh air, so the colonel would oblige Major Joachim's blockheadedness with kindness.

Although, unfortunately for them both, after surviving through this war since the battle in the north, Colonel Lergen was about as senior as they came.

An officer this young was about to fight under a fill-in division commander who wasn't much older. Up until only recently, such a combination would be inconceivable.

"I'm fairly close with their commander."

In that regard, that child in the sky is also considered an adult. No, age- wise she's still a young child. I suppose she should be a schoolgirl…though, there's a lot that Lieutenant Colonel Degurechaff lacks when it comes to being an amiable young girl.

With that, Colonel Lergen put the brakes on his easily sidetracked mind. He took a few steps forward and found himself looking at the Ildoan sky. It was as blue as ever, but something about its color made him doubt his sanity. The colonel was then hit with a sudden sense of vertigo. For just a moment, he was overwhelmed by his physical fatigue and the mental stress that came with the heavy responsibility.

I mean, it's not a toy poodle we're dealing with here. I've called for a hunting dog…

"Colonel?"

"Whoops, it seems I'm a bit more tired than I assumed."

"I-is this going to be a problem…? I mean, y-you're using the General Staff Office's reserves without permission, right?"

The young officer's words of concern were a sign to the colonel that he was in bad shape. It was more important for a commander to stand with proper posture when he was tired than when he wasn't. He loosened up his shoulders and smiled as if there was nothing wrong.

Aware of the officers and soldiers around him, he made it clear what he was thinking.

"There are no rules against requesting backup, now, are there? With that out of the way…"

Colonel Lergen paused for a moment to attract the attention of those around him. Though he personally had never been a conductor for an orchestra before, he wondered if this was what it was like for them before a big concert.

Shooing away the fleeting thought that crossed his mind, Colonel Lergen declared his orders with a resolute tone.

"We're going to advance!"

Follow me to victory.

He showed his soldiers a clear and simple beacon for hope. A commander needed to show that he was aware of his circumstances at all times. This was especially true when said commander had inherited his command temporarily.

Without a strong network of trust built between him and the soldiers, he needed to act in a way that kept them from losing hope. Even if he was an officer whose work was primarily internal, he was a General Staff officer nevertheless. He was a type of monstrosity that had some of the most experience as a part of the war apparatus in the Empire, in its military, and in the world. Even if he was a good individual, a General Staff officer was nothing more than a cog in the machine—and a great one at that.

The greater the cog, the greater they expected those around them to operate as well.

"Lieutenant Colonel Degurechaff, please do as you always do. We need you to open up a path for us, keep our skies safe, and if you can, guide the traffic ahead."

"As the General Staff wishes."

Just as Colonel Lergen had hoped, the 203rd Aerial Mage Battalion demonstrated their versatility backed by their ample experience. They could do anything: keep watch over the skies, remain vigilant to enemy fire, support the soldiers on the ground, do reconnaissance, relay orders, and even clear up traffic. The experience they had accumulated in the east was the real deal. These two companies, in particular, could do pretty much any task there was thanks to their time being overworked by General Zettour. For Colonel Lergen, acting as his superior was highly effective for the situation they were in.

As always, Lieutenant Colonel Degurechaff would have to swallow whatever demands were made of her. Shutting away those thoughts, Colonel Lergen continuously bellowed his orders to advance.

"We need to cross this sector! Order the division to advance at full speed!"

"Wh-what about the horses?"

Colonel Lergen shouted at his assistant to make it work while telling his man to advance.

"We need to prioritize speed over all else! Have division command move to the front at once!"

Though his experience in the east was limited, this much was elementary. A commander must stand at the front, and always maintain a full awareness of the warfront. It was the same leadership shown by the great General Zettour. Just doing so was more than enough to take the vague authority that was rolled into the notion of being a commander and turn it into something that would bring his troops forward. Lieutenant General Jörg had employed the same tactic, but with his noble regimental commander's untimely passing, the buck fell on the colonel to take control.

Colonel Lergen knew what he could do and he knew he couldn't do it alone. There was no way he could break through the enemy's line if he was going to do it alone, which was why he needed to do everything he could to keep his division close behind him.

This entailed taking on the role of rejecting the desires of the younger officers around him to change his mind.

"W-we're going to leave our flank wide open at this rate! We need to wait for the troops behind us to catch up! Once they are here, we can—"

"We'll use the ocean for protection."

Brushing Major Joachim aside, he continued to make it clear that the division was to advance. They needed to advance while they could; there was no reason for them to remain stagnant. After all, the aerial mages had already cleared out the river that lay ahead. Colonel Lergen pointed out their new protection while he continued to walk forward.

"Th-the sea, Colonel?! What will we do about the side that is open land?!" "We're going to prioritize our speed. Any more questions?"

"Our division is already ahead of schedule!"

"Worry not, Major. The Kampfgruppe will protect us on our land side.

They can buy more than enough time for the other divisions to catch up." "But, Commander?"

"The Salamander Kampfgruppe is at our side."

They could be trusted. With Lieutenant Colonel Degurechaff in the skies and the soldiers she had raised from birth at their side, the Kampfgruppe's formation was as solid as could be. A fully armed Federal panzer unit could come charging in and it wouldn't be a problem.

He knew that they could dominate anything that crossed their path and continued their charge. His military exploits in the east instilled an incredible level of trust for Colonel Lergen in his Kampfgruppe.

"Now, officers, grab your things. You wouldn't want them to get wet."

What worried him most was having to rush through the river ahead. Still new to the division, he would pass the baton to each commanding officer under him to enact his orders. His natural duty as their head commander was to try and provide them with the support and tools they needed to carry out his orders. He needed to figure out how they would cross this river given the situation at hand. There was no bridge, and they couldn't afford to waste time waiting for the machines they needed to cross the river. Panzer units were as heavy as they came.

"Major, this division's field engineers are up to par, yes?" "Yes, Colonel."

I see. Colonel Lergen nodded and collected his thoughts. The field engineers had equipment for crossing bodies of water on them at all times, but it was nothing more than basic boats.

These boats were both limited in numbers and slow. Their plan was to seize a bridge, but without time to find the nearest one, they needed to prioritize what they were missing. They would have to procure the necessary

tools, and if there was no way for them to do their mission with what they had, then they would simply need to take it from their enemies. He learned this principle during his time under General Zettour.

So, how was he going to do it? The colonel reached for his radio and decided to make a bit of an unreasonable order.

"Lieutenant Colonel Degurechaff, do you expect there is any machinery we can use across the river?"

"I'm sure there are a few small-sized vessels in the vicinity."

The colonel shook his head. It wasn't a bad place to start, but it wouldn't be enough. He spoke a new request into his radio.

"Ideally, we want something that can move fast."

"Something with a motor, perhaps? We may need to expand the area of our search if we hope to find something suitable."

The last thing he wanted to do was waste time and spread his manpower thin. Due to the hurry they were in to get moving, these weren't terms he could accept.

"…Then we'll have to make do with smaller ships. I want the mages to tug the boats for us."

He could tell Lieutenant Colonel Degurechaff was likely astonished by the request by the rare hesitation she showed. The anger in her voice could be heard in the response she'd give a moment later.

"…We are not tugboats! We're mages!" "You can do it, right?"

The brief moment of reluctance that followed was almost cute. Before long, Lieutenant Colonel Degurechaff would give in and raise a white flag at his demands.

"It can be done…"

That was all he needed to hear. "Good," Colonel Lergen said with a smile and a nod as he put his radio away. It was a question of what could be done. The discontent of the mages could be dealt with later. At this moment, the division needed to push forward more than anything else. For it wasn't a question of ability but of time.

This was how it always was. "This feeling of being rushed…"

Time, time, time. How long had things been this way? Why did the Empire always find itself placed under such strict time constraints?

"This isn't something for me to think about."

What did the higher-ups—General Zettour—think about this? It wasn't a question for those on the ground to ponder, so there was no point in worrying about it. As the highest-ranking commanding officer on the field, his one and only task was to make sure his panzers found their way to the enemy capital.

"Ah, maybe that's why…"

No, it is definitely why. It suddenly dawned on him why Lieutenant Colonel Degurechaff would—on occasion—express her opinion in a seemingly irritated fashion.

"Why do they never realize?"

Without thinking he said this aloud. He worried for a moment that someone near him may have heard his utterance, but collected himself with some deep breathing.

He was talking about how those in the rear couldn't see what happened on the ground. About how the occasional glimpse wasn't enough to make them understand. Why was this?

Maybe it was something a commander could only barely come to terms with after coughing up blood on the battlefield? If this experience was the only way to bring about understanding…then, unfortunately for General Rudersdorf, he could never have known the inner workings of General Zettour's mind.

"And that is what brings us here…"

Their victory in Ildoa was guaranteed. They would, at the very least, almost certainly accomplish their military goals. It was a strategy created by General Zettour after his return from the front lines.

That being said, there was nothing to be said for factors unrelated to the plan. Though, the General Staff officer in Lergen had an instinctive desire to keep himself unaffiliated with anything non-operation related. He didn't want to think about the political implications of conducting this operation.

His duty was to carry out the operation he was assigned to. If that was a military operation created by a man who had thorough knowledge of the pitfalls on the battlefield, then all he had to do was accomplish his role.

"I'm here on break, after all… I should be allowed to get away with this much."