CHAPTER - II

THE END OF NOVEMBER, UNIFIED YEAR 1927, THE HEADQUARTERS FOR THE MULTINATIONAL FORCES

Winter was cold in the Federation, but was it the reason for the chills running down Drake's spine? He knew it wasn't—the temperature wasn't all to blame for this chill in the air. Whenever Mr. Johnson made the trip from their home country, he always came bearing bad news.

The moment the agent caught sight of Drake, he offered a pleasant smile and cheerfully waved his hand. On the surface, he was as gentlemanly as could be. Seeing that alone was enough to convince Lieutenant Colonel Drake he should brace himself for the worst. And yet…or perhaps, as expected…Colonel Drake couldn't keep himself from questioning what Mr. Johnson had to say.

"What? We're going to retreat from the Federation and deploy to Ildoa…?"

"It isn't a retreat, Colonel. You're being strategically repositioned at a new location. I understand how important your mission here is, but the Empire's attack on Ildoa has changed everything."

Mr. Johnson wore a small grin.

"Just take a seat. You'd do yourself a favor to make yourself comfortable. We're going to have a small chat."

Drake picked up on something interesting when he sat in the offered chair. This was the most inviting seat there was, the one closest to the warm, cozy fire.

"And here I thought that this was our command center, and you're the guest."

Kicking back and relaxing, the old gentlemen had taken out a cigarette and began smoking as if he owned the damn place. He nonchalantly shot a glance at the samovar, as if to ask for some tea. Drake ignored this, which seemed to make it clear to Mr. Johnson that his presence wasn't welcome. The man offered a slight frown, only to shrug his shoulders as if he'd remembered something more important. He had really made himself at home. It was quite the show of bravado.

"Let's talk about work."

Drake could hardly believe it. Mr. Johnson had up and decided on his own that now was the time to talk business!

"The sun must set just as surely as it must rise. This is a law of nature. Our country abides by the laws of nature as well; changes in political circumstances always translate to problems in the field."

The old man looked tired when he mentioned the word problems. Colonel Drake, however, wasn't so wet behind the ears or pure of heart to be swayed by his pantomime. He knew that whenever a fellow countryman made the far trip to visit Colonel Drake out in the east…they always brought immense burdens with them.

"I know I shouldn't compare myself to someone who fights on the ground such as yourself, but I've been worked to the bone as well. They've sent me all over this continent to deliver absurd messages like the one I'm about to give you."

Mr. Johnson let out a clear sigh as he sat in his chair, grumbling.

"It's so troublesome to be a loyal subject to His Royal Majesty. Truly, we both have our trials and tribulations to endure. Don't you agree?"

He kindly offered a cigarette to Drake as he said this, making a sentimental gesture. At a glance, his words and gesture were convincing enough that Drake instinctively wanted to share his complaints with the man. It was clear, though, that this intelligence agent's gestures were purely superficial. Drake knew that he and he alone was the only one who deserved any sympathy between the two men sitting here. He was sure of this from the bottom of his heart.

"And somehow, all of the trouble seems to fall on us out here." "That's your ego speaking, Mr. Drake."

"I'm sorry, but it really isn't. Neither you nor the rest back home get shot at regularly on the battlefield. We were deployed here to fight a war.

Do you have any idea how long it took to prepare ourselves? And you want us to just drop everything?"

Drake's face was grim as he made his retort, but the easygoing intelligence officer simply shrugged it off.

"I'm not the one who makes these decisions."

"I know that, but it doesn't make this order any less unpleasant."

Drake glared at Mr. Johnson, who maintained his usual calm and tactful persona. The man was a talented intelligence agent who never showed what he was truly thinking.

"Though I'm merely a messenger, I sympathize deeply with your mental and physical anguish. I'm beside myself by the mere thought of the harsh missions you endure."

Elderly Mr. Johnson shared his superficial sympathy as his gentle smile slowly morphed into a more dastardly grin.

"After all…the Ildoan theater will be the ultimate stage for the multinational unit."

Am I wrong? he asked the colonel with his eyes, alerting Drake to exactly what his country's aims were.

The multinational unit was like a mascot for the Commonwealth. Nothing more than a pawn that the politicians back home would happily send to dance in the spotlight at center stage. The feelings of the actors, who had to actually fight on the battlefield, were a lower priority. That said…the Commonwealth soldiers out in the field ate out of the same pot with Federation troops as they went up against the formidable Imperial Army. They may have been Communists, but they were still comrades in arms. Colonel Drake's obligation to the people who fought on the same battlefield compelled him to argue against relocation.

"Mr. Johnson. Please take into consideration the fact that we've finally started to form a strong mutual trust with the Federation soldiers."

Drake didn't want to leave his friends here. He appealed to a bond that could be considered the starting point for all soldiers and warriors— becoming brothers in arms—but all he got in response was a warm smile.

"I understand."

Nodding in agreement as if this were a well-known fact, the intelligence agent patted Drake on the shoulder to let him know his plea had been heard. It was an unsettling reaction that set off alarms in Drake's mind.

"Are you willing to respect the bond we've created here?"

"Of course we will. That's been our intention this entire time. It's why we're making arrangements for you to strengthen your bond further. We wouldn't want you to abandon those who you fight alongside."

Drake questioned Mr. Johnson's words.

"You believe we'll be able to maintain our bond even after relocation?"

How, exactly? It was a small miracle that Drake didn't flatly ask this outright. His eyes made his doubt and distrust clear, but Mr. Johnson simply smiled and nodded.

"We would never separate you from your new friends. You're all going to Ildoa, together. The same goes for Colonel Mikel, too. Everyone will be kept in the same group. You're all headed for Ildoa, where it's much warmer."

"I'm sorry, Mr. Johnson, but it sounds like you're suggesting we move the entire multinational volunteer unit to Ildoa?"

"That is precisely right, Colonel."

It was too convenient. Their entire unit was going to Ildoa, together? To say there was doubt in Drake's eyes as he questioned the gentleman would be an understatement.

"And the Communists are okay with this…?" "That's right, Colonel."

"I have a very hard time believing that."

There was a time when Communists fully rejected training mages. They were only using them because of the dire needs of war, but it was well known that their mages were under heavy surveillance. Perhaps the idiots who made these decisions weren't aware of this.

"Do you mean to tell me they'll allow their mage troops to go abroad where the government can't keep an eye on them? I'm sure the Communists would be happy to get rid of us Commonwealth mages, but I doubt they'll allow their own to go."

"What a narrow-minded disposition you've got there, Colonel." "I beg your pardon, but what did you say?"

Mr. Johnson stared at Drake with the surprised eyes of a math teacher who caught a student making an elementary mistake.

"The multinational volunteer unit was a political creation from its very inception. I thought you knew this… Perhaps you forgot during the war."

"How could anyone forget! I understand that fact to my very core. I couldn't forget even if I wanted to."

Mr. Johnson offered a look of bewilderment as Drake blurted out his response.

"It seems your core is overlooking something. And that something is the Imperial invasion of Ildoa. I'd recommend an officer such as yourself to maintain a higher level of awareness when it comes to worldly affairs."

"You must be joking," Drake scoffed. "Is that meant to be an insult? Not a day goes by where we don't pay attention to the Empire's movements."

"So what you're saying, Colonel, is that you have been observing the Empire?"

"Of course we have," Drake said with a nod. "The Empire is only fighting with Ildoa to protect its flank. The true battle is here, in the Federation."

"And?"

"This is where this war will end. And you want us to take our mages out of here and send them to Ildoa? Can't you see how that would be a massive mistake in priorities?"

Drake was brimming with confidence as he spoke but was met with a shrug from the old intelligence agent.

"You're correct from a military standpoint, but fail on the political end of things."

"I'm sorry?"

"It is as you say, militarily speaking. The Empire will die in this land. But this isn't the stage. Now that center stage has shifted to Ildoa, this is where you belong. This is just how politics work."

Mr. Johnson was curt with his retort. Colonel Drake was left blinking to himself at the unexpected remark.

"And your reasoning for this is…?"

"It's simple, you see. We, the world, must help each other to defeat a powerful common enemy."

The intelligence agent sat back in his chair as he casually hit Drake with something beyond his wildest imagination.

"Wait, what? Help each other? Has our raison d'état evolved into something that looks out for countries other than our own?"

"You must throw any illusions you have about your country into the

rubbish bin."

Drake was dumbfounded by the remark. It was easy to tell as he leaned back and shot his blank stare up at the ceiling. Seeing this, Mr. Johnson used a bit of a preaching tone to give the man a small warning.

"Both we and the Federation, with our honest egos, will send the multinational forces to Ildoa. Nothing more, nothing less."

Mr. Johnson held out a paper cigarette and sighed.

"The Federation already agreed to this without hesitation."

He thrust the cigarette into an ashtray before taking out a lighter while he stared straight at Drake and continued to speak.

"It's a shame, you see. That good Commonwealth subjects are politically inferior to our evil Communist counterparts. They have a sense of immediate and complete agreement on their side that we lack."

"Excuse me, but…I need to ask. Have you really gotten them to agree to this?"

"They have indeed. I had a wonderful friend of mine help me convince them."

"A friend? I didn't realize you had any friends in the Federation?"

Drake's entire body made his doubt clear to Mr. Johnson, who responded with a knowing look as he explained their country's latest decision.

"The world will be our friend when this is all over." "You must be joking."

"It's true. The fact of the matter is that our interests align this time. If there is one consistent thing about the devil, it's that he always obeys the terms of his deal."

"The devil?"

"Yes, the loved and respected Commissariat for Internal Affairs. Their soon-to-be chief made this deal possible. Thanks to their efforts, preparations to leave this country are as smooth as can be."

Smooth departures were something Drake was all too familiar with. And yet, he found himself standing up in shock.

"Hold on now, Mr. Johnson. You think the Commissariat will support us in any way?"

"Rest assured, they absolutely will. With a smile on their face. They might even see you off with a nice cup of tea."

For those familiar with the Federation, it was hard to believe anything positive about the Commissariat for Internal Affairs. The world's most terrifying secret police, smiling?

"I'm having a difficult time believing that, Mr. Johnson." "Quite the skeptic, eh?"

"I've worked with them enough to know," Drake answered, but little did he know, Mr. Johnson was about to surprise him by opening Pandora's box.

"I have a letter of endorsement that will get the bureaucrats moving." "A letter?"

"Show it to anyone who gives you any trouble. As long as they're not suicidal, they'll let you go with a smile. Take good care of these," the old man said as he tossed the documents onto the table.

Mouth agape, Colonel Drake picked up the bundle of papers and scanned them.

In perfectly legible Federation and Commonwealth writing, he could see that it read: Highest Travel Priority Authorization. With this, the multinational unit could even requisition any boat or vehicle they needed. To top it all off, it clearly stated that any entity unwilling to comply would be subject to investigation by the Commissariat for Internal Affairs.

"What the hell kind of orders are these…?"

"It's written out for you to read, Mr. Drake. The entire Federation Army has agreed to allow the multinational unit to leave the country and is willing to support them in every way possible. It has been signed off by both the Commissariat and Army Command."

"So this is real…?"

"That's what I've been telling you this entire time. The same orders should have reached Colonel Mikel by now as well."

He grinned. It was an ominous grin, the sort that made it clear a colonel had no say in the matter. Mr. Johnson had told him that he would be departing for his new post. All Drake could do was comply with these new orders.

That said, there was one thing he still wanted to ask. "May I ask what circumstances made this all possible…?"

He stared right at Mr. Johnson as he asked this, but the only thing he saw was a grave look. It was the sort of expression that suggested the man wanted him to think for himself. Drake considered this for a short moment

before shaking his head. He was a colonel, a marine mage by trade. His country didn't pay him enough to concern himself with the backroom deals and conspiracies that drove these sorts of decisions.

It's not my job to figure these things out. And so, Drake opted for a more direct approach.

"Mr. Johnson. I'm not a canny man. I may very well mess up the departure process due to my inability to pick up on the more subtle side of things. I'd like a decent explanation for all this. I do believe I deserve one."

He knew he wouldn't get a quick answer. Plenty would be kept from him. The principle of doling out information on a need-to-know basis was what oftentimes kept him and the others on the battlefield in the dark.

So what do you have to say? Drake watched the old man…who answered his request with a big smile.

"That's a fair demand, Mr. Drake." "So you'll tell me why, then?"

"Of course! You wish to know why the Federation is willing to go this far, yes? It's quite simple. We believe it's because rather than be on the receiving end of aid, the Federation wishes to be the providers of it."

The Federation had been widely supported by the nations of the world throughout their long conflict with the Empire. The Unified States was a notable example because of the widely publicized lend-lease program. It was the Commonwealth, in fact, that was in charge of escorting the shipments of lend-lease war materiel. Not only that, but a small number of military advisors, including Drake himself, were stationed in the nation as reinforcements. While it was easy enough for Drake to understand what being on the receiving end of all this aid meant in a political sense…he still had questions.

"So it's a matter of saving face? Why would the Federation need to concern themselves with that? They currently bear the brunt of this war with the Empire. I fail to see why receiving aid is so galling."

From Drake's perspective, the Federation was playing a much more central role in the war compared to the Commonwealth. Sharing the continent with the Empire was what made the two nations such sworn, natural enemies.

"Politics, my friend, aren't as rational as you are."

Mr. Johnson gave a wry chuckle as he pointed this out.

"The Unified States has dispatched their forces now that Ildoa has been attacked. We, too, of course, and the François Republic will send what we can to the new war zone."

"That is reassuring."

"It is indeed." And then Mr. Johnson got in close and whispered to Drake, "With the number of resources the capitalist nations of the world are pouring into this war, the Communists, who are proposing a rich, abundant society for all, can't be seen as begging for aid this entire time now, can they? It goes against their very ideology."

Though confused for but a moment, Drake quickly picked up on what Mr. Johnson was getting at. Of course, he found the sentiment of it all repulsive as someone who was being sent into the fray purely because of this superficial posturing.

"So you're telling me that any reinforcements sent are all for show?" "Precisely. That said, due to the eastern front encroaching so far into

their border, symbolic reinforcements are the most the Federation can afford to send at the moment."

Symbolic. Colonel Drake died a bit on the inside when he heard the disparaging term. The multinational volunteer unit was symbolic in its essence.

"A small number of elite mages such as you and the forces under your command are quite easy to use in this regard. You will be welcomed as a powerful asset on the battlefield while serving as powerful symbols."

Drake didn't hide his disappointment when he heard exactly what he expected.

"If these are my orders…then I will do everything in my power to see them through. This is a nightmare, though."

"A nightmare?"

"We're commanded by the Federation, despite being a multinational unit made up of Federation and Commonwealth soldiers. On top of that, we'll have to keep pace with the Unified States and Ildoan troops in Ildoa…"

It was easy to throw the word support around in the political sphere. But what would this look like on an actual battlefield?

In what sense were they expected to fulfill the role of essential reinforcements? As organic firepower?

Such an intricate collaboration wouldn't be possible without significant

training, and rushing in without preparing properly would only result in catastrophe. The colonel could see it already. No amount of bluntness was enough to push this serious concern of his. Colonel Drake also sought to curb the optimism he felt coming from his superiors as much as he could.

In a rare turn of events, however, the intelligence officer showed a willingness to listen to Drake's plea.

"Ah, yes. You needn't worry about that."

"I'd much rather not hear more empty promises."

"Let me assure you. The new command will be established in name only. You will maintain total command authority over your own troops. The Ildoans are quite brilliant in this regard."

-x-X-x-

NOVEMBER 27, UNIFIED YEAR 1927, THE ILDOA FRONT

It's those on the front line who must make the impossible possible. This is just as true for the Federation, the Commonwealth, and Ildoa…as it is for the Empire. Without a moment's relief after escorting General Zettour to the rear, Tanya received new orders to support Colonel Lergen's 8th Panzer Division.1 The plan is for the division to charge down the peninsula at full speed the moment the temporary cease-fire ends. Agreeing to the enemy's proposed weeklong cease-fire was presented as a gesture of goodwill, when in actuality it's simply a facade for the grueling work that the Imperial Army's logistics network needs to do to provision the Empire's soldiers and bring resources to the front lines in preparation for the renewed offensive.

This goes for the aerial mages as well, who are being used like pack mules. It's a brutal task. The mages, who can fly on calories instead of fuel, hand-carry the fuel liter by liter so they can power the division primarily made up of tanks and mechanized soldiers. In terms of exploiting subordinates, nothing Tanya has done can even come close to her superiors.

After transporting enough fuel for the upcoming offensive, a meeting is called to discuss Tanya's real job—combat.

It's more or less a kind of discretionary labor system, but Tanya doesn't

have a death wish. Living is the highest priority, and Tanya has no plans to watch her subordinates pointlessly lose their lives. Once all the fuel has been delivered, the Kampfgruppe rendezvous with the 8th Panzer Division. The first order of business is meeting the division's commanding officer.

Lergen and Tanya thoroughly examine every little thing that can be discussed in advance. It's not as if they've been estranged to the point where it's difficult to coordinate. The two quickly go over what their respective units' roles will be and how much firepower they each possess, and they finish by sharing intel on the expected battlefield.

All that's left is to guess what their actual orders will be. Both Tanya and Lergen know full well that General Zettour places great trust in them and are more than familiar with his disposition as a commander.

"The general is so full of energy now that he's left the doom and gloom of the east for greener pastures here under the sun in Ildoa."

Tanya shares an idle complaint, earning a deep nod from Colonel Lergen.

"Yes, but…I can't help but feel that he was just as lively back east as well."

"That's fair," Tanya agrees before pointing to a spot on the map laid out on a fold-out table normally used during a field battle.

"It's as you can see, Colonel."

It is clear that, following General Zettour's orders, the Imperial Army was deploying slowly along the map. The cease-fire started on the Ildoan campaign's tenth day and continued for a week of fleeting peace, where the army primarily helped escort citizens out of the war zone. The truth behind this image, however, was much gloomier.

"Our forces have lost combat strength. The line is stretched thin. You can tell from our positions that we're in disarray."

Upon closer examination, there are divisions that have halted in odd places. On the other hand, there are divisions that are actively pulling back. At the same time, there seem to be vanguard units that were tasked with launching decisive attacks and have pushed forward.

Allowing a cease-fire while the army is in such disarray is a bit surprising. If a cadet at the military academy made such an obvious blunder, they would be kicked out of the school.

"At this rate, we'll lose the upper hand. It's also highly likely that the

enemy is using this respite to reinforce their line."

The enemy has been given one week. This is an unusually long period of time in the world of military strategy. It's certainly more than enough to prevent the Imperial Army units that advanced recklessly from suffering a devastating counterattack and has also created an opportunity to adjust supply lines…but it also gives the enemy a chance to reorganize. Colonel Lergen agrees wholeheartedly with Tanya's remarks. The reluctance in his nod practically says out loud, I know, but what can we do? which communicates all too clearly the dire situation of the Imperial Army.

"We can't ignore the fact that the Unified States has joined the war as Ildoa's ally. We've confirmed what seems to be their advance units at a few different locations."

He lets out a frustrated sigh. "Time is on their side…"

"So it seems." In annoyance, Tanya touches her watch before she speaks up again. "The front has become a mess because time is against us. If I may be frank, this display of confusion and disarray could be described as an unforeseen disgrace for our Imperial Army."

At the very least, this never would've happened in the early days of this war. If it weren't for the obvious toll the war has had on the Empire, its enemies would've suspected something was obviously wrong. The Imperial Army's formation is messy. Almost too messy.

"This is precisely why I expect General Zettour to play another one of his tricks."

"His tricks, you say?"

He murmurs this before lowering his voice to avoid being overheard by anyone around them.

"So you also think he's going to try something…?"

Both of us witnessed the grand performance he pulled off in the east. The current disposition of troops had to be a gamble of some sort. Tanya knows this well, having played a key role in the general's past schemes.

"Why, of course I do, Colonel. I believe the entirety of the Imperial Army is under the same impression. Oh…" Tanya catches herself. "I suppose that applies to the Federation as well. They'll catch on quick."

Unlike Ildoa or the Unified States, the Federation earned its knowledge the hard way. The ones who subscribed to pragmatism rather than the

ideology of Communism would recognize Zettour's plot for what it is.

"They're one of General Zettour's countless victims, after all. As a fellow victim, I can promise you that anyone who's learned their lesson through bitter experience will be suspicious of whatever this is."

Colonel Lergen stares back in wonder before giving a light chuckle.

"It seems irrational at first, but it does make sense. You have quite the profound perspective, Colonel. I admit I must agree."

Naturally, Colonel Lergen still has his doubts.

"But…while I do believe this is all to sharpen his fangs, that is as about far as I can read into this. What is it you think the general is trying to do?"

"I can't really say for sure myself."

"Guesswork is fine, Colonel Degurechaff. I'm open to any insight into the general's mind."

Tanya begins to speak.

"In that case, to put it bluntly, military rationale dictates that the current strategy is an utter mess. Of our forces here in Ildoa, I'm assuming only the few who have seen action on the eastern front and have the general's devious designs instilled within them will understand what's happening here."

"Who knows where this is all leading?"

Tanya gives her own guess in response to Colonel Lergen's idle grumble.

"Perhaps all this chaos is necessary? I think we should look at it as the groundwork for what's to come."

"In a political sense? Ah, that would explain why we were stopped in front of the Ildoan Palace. If we interpret this as the general searching for a starting point to negotiations, then perhaps…"

Colonel Lergen stops short of saying "peace," but Tanya has her doubts about this speculation. General Zettour does have the end of the Empire in his sights. However, he isn't the type to quietly accept his fate without putting up a considerable fight. He came to Ildoa fists swinging.

"It's perfectly fine that we received the orders not to attack the city when we approached the capital. Not attacking the seat of Ildoa's royal family is a political decision."

This issue comes from the fact that such an important order wasn't given until the very last minute. From Tanya's perspective, this was abnormal. If

the order to halt hadn't arrived in time, Imperial forces might have charged into the capital before the cease-fire.

Nevertheless, Tanya continues.

"Our orders to stop very well may be a part of the general's plan." "What makes you suspect that? I'm not one to toot my own horn, but

our swift advance to the capital was about as successful as we could hope for. Isn't it possible we simply exceeded expectations?"

Colonel Lergen's logic makes perfect sense, but Tanya is forced to retort.

"Were it the opposite—if we were ordered to make an unexpectedly early assault—I could understand."

Orders to expand an attack are to be expected. Being told to attack in order to capitalize on a fleeting advantage is part and parcel of war.

"However, we were told to stop our advance despite having a chance to capture their capital, which to me suggests there is trickery afoot."

In all honesty, Tanya would've gladly mounted an assault if she'd had the chance. She was trying to change her job, after all. Taking over the most important city would certainly look good on a résumé. Despite this, she was given the orders to halt. Losing such a great opportunity was a let-down, to say the least.

Either way, since she is a simple officer, it isn't Tanya's place to decide whether or not to take over the enemy's capital. Had she independently done so without authorization, she would've just been marked down as a dangerous soldier who doesn't follow orders—definitely not a reputation you want while looking for a new job. Tanya needs anything she can put on her résumé at this point. She considers different angles to find a good way to spin this.

It's now clear that there just aren't many opportunities to do that here. This is a point of pain for Tanya…though the intent of the top brass has become clearer.

"The way I see it is, the fatherland, or perhaps more aptly, General Zettour…is going to turn Ildoa into his own personal playground."

"A playground?"

"Doesn't it seem like a toy box? While the hostilities have yet to begin again, we're currently positioning a powerful task force to seize the enemy capital. Our enemies are also using this time to build up their forces. It feels

as if the general is allowing his friends to come and bring their toys to play."

For such a well-mannered war, it would undoubtedly be a bloody one. "There's a chance this may be more of a political display of power as

opposed to a part of the actual war…"

Just as Tanya is about to agree with the colonel on this point, a young officer with the rank insignia of a major on his jacket rushes into the tent where the two commanding officers are in the middle of a meeting, offering the bare minimum of a greeting as he scrambles to collect himself.

"Excuse me, Division Commander!"

"I'm merely the acting commander. What is it?"

The young officer gives a slight salute before holding out a slip of paper.

It appears the latest instructions have arrived.

"I brought this for you! They're new orders from the fatherland."

The overly enthusiastic major holds out the orders before sprinting from the tent as quickly as he appeared. Tanya already lost interest in the man and is more concerned with the orders.

"Speak of the devil. Is it from General Zettour?" Colonel Lergen nods as he reads through the orders. "These sound like the orders he'd give."

"So this means…," Tanya questions eagerly, which is met with a firm nod by Colonel Lergen.

"We are to take out the enemy field armies the very moment the cease- fire comes to an end. You will be leading your troops into combat against the enemy mages."

"Take out their mages and focus all of our strength against whatever the Unified States brings to bear? Is that his true plan?"

"Those are the orders for you. The entire army will attack with the intent to wipe out their field armies before they can regroup. It's a general offensive."

"It's time to give those newcomers from the Unified States their first taste of war."

We'll welcome our new guests with a nice initiation. We won't hold anything back. I'll make sure they learn just how nice our Imperial hospitality really is. This really is looking to be a well-mannered war.

At this point, Tanya is brought out of her excited stupor by a warning

from Colonel Lergen.

"There is a note written here for you." "For me?"

As she asks this, she remembers it is General Zettour that we're dealing with here. Honestly, an unnaturally long amount of time has passed since she's received orders for a tried-and-true front assault. The General Staff has continually used the 203rd Aerial Mage Battalion for his more personal, most abusive missions, after all. Tanya can only reminisce about the peaceful, good old days of her previous world, where she used to leave the office at a reasonable time every day.

Oh, how I miss peace.

How I miss going home at the end of the day. How I miss my old life.

It was a good life I had back then. That is why I want to get it back.

"Yet another challenging task? My troops and I will see it through. We shall leave the Ildoan capital in ashes with a direct attack."

"It seems General Zettour knows you well." "Excuse me, Colonel?"

"The note specific to your battalion demands you show restraint with your attack on the capital. This is a cut-and-dried order. There is even a limit on how close you're allowed to get to the capital."

Colonel Lergen offers a wry grin as he says this, prompting Tanya to check the text for herself.

"My apologies, Colonel, but…this means these orders are forbidding me to attack the capital, let alone take it over."

Surely this isn't this case, Tanya thinks as she watches Colonel Lergen affirm her suspicions.

"Effectively, yes."

The two share a mutual confusion regarding this point. The general's orders are essentially to leave the capital alone. These extra, clearly defined orders addressed to Tanya push this point.

"To think the general would ever give orders like these."

One can only wonder what craftiness is afoot behind these jarringly confusing orders. Whatever the case may be, one thing is for sure: This is only the beginning. Tanya and Colonel Lergen, the pawns of the General Staff, will likely be tasked with purely political restrictions.

"This changes the way we're fighting this war."

"Yes… Although, I can accept it without resistance. I will do whatever is necessary." Colonel Lergen dons a tired expression. "I do find myself wishing we could fight a regular war for once."

A lingering exhaustion can be heard in his tone as he utters this.

"This is war and politics. We must be careful about how we proceed."

This is true for everyone. How a person carries themself during a time of war is paramount. Tanya wants as many stars as she can get to secure a safe, successful future. Achievements look great on a résumé, after all.

"I honestly wanted to attack the royal capital, given the chance…" Tanya's honest opinion makes her aspirations just a little bit too clear.

She sees Colonel Lergen's expression tightening up a bit, which tells her that her superior understands the importance of restraint. Tanya, being fairly confident in her understanding of psychology, instantly recognizes that there is a misunderstanding that she must clear up.

"Please don't worry, Colonel. I am a soldier. I will follow my orders. While it's unfortunate that I'm so misunderstood, if I'm told to hold back, then I will do so."

"Ah, er… Colonel. Is taking out capitals a hobby of yours?" "What do you mean? Taking out capitals?"

"First Dacia, then the Federation, and now Ildoa. You have a habit of going right for the jugular…"

"Ah…"

Tanya concedes this point. She recognizes that she has a quick trigger finger when it comes to taking out targets that could be considered significant achievements. Even now, the urge is strong when the royal capital is just a hop and a skip away. That being said, she isn't so irrational as to ignore direct orders. Foolishness is the last trait she wishes to accentuate on her résumé. Thus, she will play the part of the good officer— or at least the version of one in her mind—and stand at attention to confront Colonel Lergen's misunderstandings with an exemplary and impressively firm attitude of an officer who understands their duties.

"Colonel, don't be mistaken. Everything I've ever done, I was ordered to do. When duty calls, I will fly far and wide, and burn down all that I must before making my triumphant return."

"That's reassuring. I'll expect great things from you during this

operation, then."

"But of course. Leave the enemy mages to my battalion. You'll find that our attack will prove highly devastating for their field troops as well."

"Good." The colonel always ends his exchanges with a polite response. The man is probably too polite to be a General Staff officer, but that's neither here nor there, as the colonel segues into his next question. He wants to know what the 8th Panzer Division can do to help. The answer Tanya von Degurechaff gives to this question has a wicked intent behind it.

"If I may, Colonel Lergen, I will take you up on your offer. Would you be willing to lend me the tanks we've acquired from Ildoa on this campaign so far?"

Those from the New World had a sense of admiration for the Old World. This may have stemmed from a place of prejudice, but the Old World's long history and vibrant culture were enough to fill any visiting youth with adoration.

Sadly, this was a sentiment that belonged in a different era. The Unified States vanguard that landed on the shores of Ildoa would be met by the monster that prowled the continent. The Imperial Army, both emaciated and battle-hardened by prolonged total war, was a spiteful beast.

It may have been a product of culture, a by-product of continually fine- tuning the art of war. Atop a mountain of bones sat the world's enemy, a demonic chimera with the head of a General Staff officer and wings of hard-won experience.

These youths should be applauded. They surely deserved to be recognized.

These ordinary people would become heroes in the fight against the Imperial Army, a monstrosity born from necessity.

-x-X-x-

NOVEMBER 29, UNIFIED YEAR 1927, THE ILDOA FRONT

The Empire's Aerial Mage Battalion has been reinforced with tanks. That's right, tanks.

They proceed to exude their mana signals in luxury for all to pick up on as they clumsily bring the line of tanks down one of the main roads in the most conspicuous way possible. The battalion follows the road in a leisurely manner, as if heading for a picnic on a nice cold day in a winter resort.

A female mage officer can be seen taking a bite out of a chocolate bar as she drives her motorcycle down the road, carefree. In her sidecar sits another officer—a small girl far too small to be a soldier—who happily pours herself a cup of nice and warm coffee from her thermos.

Honestly, the entire scene lacks the tension one would expect from a group of people heading to an active war zone. It looks more like a nice field trip. The reason for their brazenness in such a dangerous area? Well, this is the elite 203rd Aerial Mage Battalion.

They are currently borrowing the 8th Panzer Division's newly acquired tanks, with jerrycans full of plundered high-octane gasoline to fuel their trip. Incidentally, these are the same jerrycans the mages spent the entire cease-fire transporting, so there was a bit of a love-hate relationship going on.

The jerrycans are situated on either side of the standard-issue Ildoan motorcycles currently heading southbound toward the royal capital.

This is meant to be a diversion. We're acting like vulnerable bait for the enemy mages. Our main goal is to look so vulnerable that the Ildoan and Unified States troops can't ignore the Imperial carrot dangling before them. The premise is that the Imperial mages who wreaked so much havoc in the east have let their guard down in the faraway land of Ildoa.

I should mention that this plan has already hit a proverbial speed bump. Specifically, it's our disguises. Even more specifically, it's our mana signals.

Tanya's orders were to intentionally employ lackluster signal masking so that the battalion's mana would be easily detected. I explained to my subordinates that the intent was to lure the enemy. Everyone understood the goal and what they needed to do. There were no problems in this regard. The whole unit, from the commanding officer to the lowest foot soldier, everyone knew their role for this mission.

The only problem is that deliberately failing to mask their mana signals…has been more or less impossible. Their attempt to be lackluster is what's lackluster.

Our orders are to let everyone notice us, and yet, almost every soldier has kept their mana hidden. The problem became apparent when Lieutenant Serebryakov confessed in a strained voice that she couldn't let her mana leak.

I must recognize that I may have made an error in training my battalion. After all, the troops know that Tanya has never accepted anything less than perfection from them on the battlefield.

This much should be a given, I feel. When it comes to hiding mana signals, it's either fully blocked or not blocked at all. There is no point if even an inkling of mana gets through. Thus, mana signature concealment must always be perfect. To both maintain stealth and execute effective ambushes.

The 203rd knows this well, and that's putting it lightly. The members of the 203rd have achieved a level of emissions reduction so perfect that it has become second nature for them.

It's almost ironic. They're basically incapable of doing the opposite!

"There may have been an issue with my training methods. Perhaps I was too strict about mana signal leaks."

This is a huge blow to my confidence as a teacher. These are grizzled veterans. I can understand that their extensive combat experience makes it agonizing to even consider deliberately letting their mana signals show.

It's become a habit for them while on the front lines. Any attempt by Tanya to make adjustments was foiled by the deeply ingrained habit of avoiding such an unforgivable offense. The more battle-hardened the veteran, the tougher it is for them to feign incompetence. In fact, it ends up being the newer recruits, such as First Lieutenant Wüstemann, who manage to fulfill Tanya's request.

That being said, this was basically the only problem worth noting.

Given enough time, a veteran could figure out a way to break their habits. In fact, that's what they've already done. More accurately, that's what Tanya made them do.

Thanks to this, small traces of mana signals are now slipping out— though not a satisfactory amount, considering their intended deception—as

they zoom down the Ildoan roads.

The perfect weather today makes for a nice, peaceful drive. Thanks to their clear line of sight, the 203rd is able to spot the enemies first.

First to find the enemy, first to strike, and then a quick withdrawal. This is the ideal pattern of attack.

Of course, I'm constantly making sure my subordinates are fully aware of the strict orders to not go too far and to refrain from carelessly relying on their instincts.

"Salamander Leader to all units. Confirmation on two Unified mages above. They're flying at an altitude of seventy-five hundred in a pair. They appear to be a patrol, so we will ignore them. Hold your fire, understood? Also, refrain from tracking their mana signals."

In response to her orders, the first officer brings his bike up next to Tanya's and gives a small protest for the hell of it.

"02 to 01. Those two'll come back to ream us in the ass if we let them go."

"01 to 02. Keep the antics to a minimum." "My apologies."

Major Weiss gives a salute and a quick nod, which earns him a grin from Tanya. It's obvious he isn't actually worried about them coming back to bite us in the ass. It's just a joke to try and lighten up the mood before battle. Humor is always good when danger waits in the wings.

I pour myself another cup of coffee while enjoying Ildoa's mild cold weather.

"Lieutenant Serebryakov, you always make the best coffee."

My adjutant is preoccupied with driving the bike, so as a sign of appreciation, I reach into her satchel and take out more chocolate for her. After politely accepting, my adjutant promptly takes a big bite out of the bar while I turn my attention to the two specs in the sky.

"It's impressive, really."

A smile jumps onto my face.

I watch as the pair flies in a straight line above us. It makes me take a jab at Major Weiss, who keeps his bike next to mine while appreciating the enemy.

"Look at their flight. It's very smooth. I'm sure it'd take a considerable amount of reeducation to get you and the rest of the troops to fly like that."

"Mercy, please. I don't think we can fly in such a military parade–like fashion…"

"Come now," I say with a laugh. "I'm sure if we searched long enough, we could find outdated primers on how to fly."

"I'm too afraid to follow an obsolete manual."

The first officer shudders at the thought. To think this man used to do everything by the book. That was back in Dacia. I still remember it. How nostalgic. I recall my first officer following the old conventions and withdrawing at the first sight of foot soldiers.

But look at him now. Major Weiss's experience has brought him so far from textbook combat that I very much doubt he can even maintain any of the standard formations shown in the training manual.

"It's funny how much people can grow, isn't it, Major?" "What's that?"

"Oh, it's nothing. I just never expected you to disparage the training manual."

I'm reminiscing fondly, but Major Weiss blushes and waves his hand. "That was a long time ago! I was young back then."

"That's true. Making those mistakes while you're young is the best way to learn. I should probably go easier on Lieutenants Grantz and Wüstemann."

I nonchalantly share this with my first officer before receiving an unexpected remark from Lieutenant Serebryakov while she drives the bike.

"You know, every now and then I'm struck by this strange thought…" "What's that, Lieutenant Serebryakov?"

"Just that it's a bit strange for you to discuss age…"

"Oh?" An uncomfortable sense of understanding comes over me. Nevertheless, it's the first officer who jumps in to correct my adjutant's misguided realization.

"C'mon now, Lieutenant. Let's not kid ourselves here." "What, Major Weiss?"

My adjutant gives a blank look while, with the most serious of expressions, my first officer continues to speak.

"The only years that matters are how many have been spent fighting." "How many years you've spent fighting…?"

"That's right. And in that sense, the colonel is the oldest one here."

"Da-ha-ha-ha!"

Jovial laughter spreads throughout the friendly vehicular picnic.

As far as I can tell, Lieutenant Wüstemann still seems a bit stiff. Perhaps he still feels a bit of tension from being on the battlefield. The rest of her troops, however, seem to be enjoying themselves.

As for Lieutenant Serebryakov…she continues to gobble down even more chocolate. The chocolate I gave her is long gone. Who knows where she got her hands on so many sweets.

Juxtaposed with the wholesome conversation happening on the ground, our enemies above maintain a rigid flight path. They are definitely sticking to their manuals.

While munching on some chocolate, I keep one eye on the sky and let out a sigh.

"It's still a decent maneuver. Their obvious surplus of resources is making me a bit jealous."

The soldiers above are mage troops being used for aerial recon.

There's nothing particularly strange about this. It's the most basic of the basics. Basics, if you look in a textbook, that is.

They're using their aerial mages to patrol multiple air zones, after all. To cover a wide area would require a significant amount of manpower.

While the enemy may have the resources to do this, such a tactic would be far too luxurious for the current Imperial Army to employ.

"We used to do that back on the Rhine."

I mumble to myself while shaking my head. It's more than possible that our continual waste of human resources is what led to the manpower shortage we face today.

It's just like radar picket ships. The enemy spreads their scouts thinly throughout the area of operations and the main force sends reinforcements when they encounter something. This is a legitimate tactic that only the wealthy can employ. And if you can afford to employ such a tactic…it's safe and reliable.

In this regard, the Unified States is blessed, but the Empire still has the upper hand. For now, at least. We paid for our tuition in full with corpses because experience was our teacher.

Hmm…

As I eye the enemies above, something occurs to me.

"Clean movements. Both of them are maintaining their distance."

These two mages are doing their best, and their efforts are pointed in the right direction.

However…I'm delighted after confirming my suspicions.

These two still aren't afraid. Just like the Federation soldiers weren't. It won't be long before victory is ours.

-x-X-x-

THE SAME DAY, IN THE SKIES ABOVE THE ILDOAN PENINSULA

Two young mages flew triumphantly through the skies of the Old World. They belonged to the Corinth 7th Aerial Magic Regiment of the Unified States Expeditionary Forces in Ildoa. The cold yet ever blue November skies were teeming with signs of the war, punctuated by the occasional cannon fire that was audible in the distance.

Bravery was a by-product of the pilots who breathed in the air of an active battlefield. Their deployment to Ildoa was sudden, but Corinth mages were beginning to gain confidence in their abilities after a handful of encounters with the Imperial forces. Their mission: interdicting the rapidly advancing Imperial army. In the small amount of time that had passed since the cease-fire ended, the Corinth mages had managed to push back the enemy forces they had met thus far. Their unit's casualties had been minimal, and the mages were slowly losing their fear of the Imperial Army.

Confidence was born from accumulating successes. They all fought bravely, with a sense of adventure in their hearts and a desire unique to younger soldiers eager to show off to their peers. For soldiers more comfortable on the battlefield, they even made room for pursuing their love interests.

This was true for Jackson, at least. He wanted his crush to see him do his job well. First Lieutenant Jackson was happy to learn that his flight partner for scouting the area that day was First Lieutenant Jessica, his fellow soldier he had feelings for.

Jackson was too serious for his own good, as the other soldiers would often put it. His seriousness manifested itself during their surveillance with him keeping his eyes off Jessica and fixated on the main road below him. Even his superior, who went out of his way to pair him up with Jessica, would've been proud of his professionalism.

It was this diligence that eventually allowed him to pick up on the faintest of mana signals coming from the ground below.

"Jessica! We've come into contact with a mana signal!" "It's 02, John. Ah, I mean 01!"

The two shared an awkward smile when they both forgot to use each other's call signs after suddenly making contact. Then they started seeking out the source of the signal. There were multiple signals moving together.

"01 to 02. It appears to be a unit of mages. What do you think?" "I think you're right. But the signals are very faint…"

As far as these two knew, the signals they were tracking were expertly disguised. They had heard that the Imperial Army was full of highly skilled mages, but this was more than they'd expected.

"Do you think they're Imperial mages?"

"That would explain why their signals are so hard to track. I think we've hit the jackpot this time."

First Lieutenant Jackson received a compliment from his counterpart, whom he had feelings for. While he took a brief moment to bask in the afterglow, he knew he needed to remain vigilant about his surroundings. Every moment needed to be treated like it was a battle. He took this to heart and always operated in a reliable manner.

The pair continued to observe the enemies below while making their report.

"CP, CP! This is Boxer 01! We have confirmation of Imperial mages in our patrol area!"

"CP to Boxer 01. We don't see any unknown mana signals coming from there. Do you have visual confirmation?"

Jackson was looking through his binoculars as he answered command's question in a firm tone.

"Boxer 01 to CP, I'm sure of it. Visual confirmation on mounted enemies! I believe their mages are traveling by ground, just like in training. They are a powerful unit using an extremely high level of signal

concealment while advancing!"

Mages hiding their mana signals while attempting to lay an ambush was standard. For the Corinth Regiment, at least.

Corinth's commander had experienced the various tactics employed by the Imperial Army's elite mages in the east and thoroughly relayed what to look out for to the entire regiment, such as Jackson and Jessica, through meticulous training. Jackson knew in this moment that it was thanks to Corinth's organizational power that they would be victorious.

"We can't confirm from over here. Have you confirmed their mana signals?"

"It's very weak, but there's definitely a signal. It seems the enemy mages are trying to bypass our patrols by concealing their mana signals."

The faintest of signals could be caught between both Jackson and Jessica keeping a watchful eye out during their patrol. They knew that the Imperial Army would likely use these tactics, and the fact that they required visual confirmation could only mean one thing.

"Outstanding work, Boxer!"

"I think we got lucky on this one."

"CP copies. We understand the situation. The Corinth Regiment will deploy ASAP. Connecting you to Corinth 01. Relay the enemy's movements to them."

Friendly forces were going to act on their discovery. This single encounter might have an impact on the overall tide of this war.

Lieutenant Jackson was beginning to feel excited, but he knew he needed to keep his cool as he shared what he saw on the ground with regimental command.

"Corinth 01 to Boxer, what do you see?"

"Boxer 01 to Corinth Battalion. We have a battalion's worth of enemy mages in vehicular transit on the ground making their way into our defensive line. Our position is…"

Where is our position again?

He knew the position… It was on the tip of his tongue, but for some reason, he just couldn't recall the radio code for the airspace he was flying in.

Where are we again? Why can't I remember?

It was so simple, and yet he couldn't recall it for some reason. This was

when he felt a tap on his shoulder.

"This is 02 to Corinth 01. We're in Airspace CV42. CV42."

Jessica's soft, gentle voice chimed in to answer Corinth command's question.

Jackson gave her a heavy nod, to which she responded with a wave and a smile.

"Corinth 01, copy that. You both did well, Boxer. We need to hit their mages to maintain the capital's defensive line. We're going to deploy immediately. Keep an eye on the enemy from the sky."

"Boxer 01, roger that!"

"So, what can you tell us about the enemy? I want details. What do you two see, Boxer?"

So far, everything Jackson had done had been by the book. Something he'd practiced over and over again. He had tried to get a better idea of who they were dealing with, but he had yet to come up with anything.

"The enemy mana signal is too faint. It's hard to get a reading."

"Boxer 02, the same goes for me. One thing's for sure. The strength of the mana signal is far too low for a unit this size. They are most definitely veterans."

Hearing Boxer's response, the regimental commander brought the two into another channel, where high command was waiting to discuss how the army would handle the skies.

"Corinth 01 to High Command. We doubt a single mage battalion would breach our line on their own. Requesting aerial reconnaissance from the rear."

"Affirmative, Corinth 01. One of the navy's planes just saw what we believe to be an enemy panzer unit."

While listening in on the discussion between their regiment and high command, it hit Jackson. The Imperial Army was about to make their move. Had he and Jessica not found this battalion, the enemy's elite mages may have struck behind their defensive line with the element of surprise. He glared down at the enemy, as his sense of duty slowly transformed into an intense desire to fight. Perhaps that was why he somehow knew the orders he was about to receive from the regiment leader were going to be of grave importance.

"You heard the man, Boxer. The enemy is likely the vanguard for a

large-scale attack."

Now, the regiment commander spoke with an apologetic tone.

"I'm hoping you two can get more information for me… Is it possible for you to approach the enemy to confirm whether or not they're the panzer unit we're looking for?"

Jackson shot Jessica a look to see what she thought about regimental command's request. They were being asked to dive deeper into the enemy's airspace, without backup. This would be exceedingly dangerous, but they both recognized the need, given the circumstances.

"We won't be able to keep an eye on the mages if we leave our current airspace, but they are in the location we told you. If we can be of service elsewhere, then…"

"It would really help if you volunteered to do this…" "Then of course we will!"

The pair showed no hesitation in accepting the new mission.

"We can do it! Even their mages failed to detect us… Their defenses may not be as tight as we thought. You don't need to worry about us!"

"Corinth 01, we appreciate you volunteering to help. But be sure to remain vigilant. One thing's for sure: The enemy knows what they are doing." The regiment commander maintained a serious tone. "You mustn't underestimate them. When you are in their airspace, remember the difference between courage and recklessness. You can abort the mission if you feel it's too dangerous."

"Boxer 01, roger that. 02 agrees. We'll go as far as we can!"

Lieutenant Jackson and Lieutenant Jessica volunteered knowing the mission would be dangerous. There was an innocence to their bravery, as they accepted the mission without the slightest idea of what was waiting for them. They would be alone in enemy territory. Even a veteran would show some hesitance, given the circumstances, but these two showed firm resolution in their desire to help the regiment.

That resolution would be what let them escape the jaws of fate.

When it came to luck, God was not on the Unified States Aerial Magic Corinth Regiment's side. Even though they were the epitome of what a

regiment could be, the disregard for their safety by the heavens could only be considered cruel.

The regiment was made up of elites from the Unified States, who were hand-selected to be sent to the Old World. They numbered 108 and stood at the forefront of the army in terms of training, equipment, and natural ability. In fact, historians would have no qualms recognizing that the Corinth Regiment was one of the most prestigious units of its time. This was especially true of its leader, who was prepared for anything. He was particularly enthusiastic about learning through combat, and his deep

understanding of military topography was highly regarded by his peers.

Above all else, the Corinth Regiment commander was a mage who led from the front. He was a true leader, an intellectual, and a brave officer who cared for his subordinates.

His unit was filled with top-notch soldiers who were well trained and were able to take advantage of their high coordination in combat. Experts agreed that the Corinth Aerial Magic Regiment had everything that could be asked for in an elite unit, except for the fact that they had been abandoned by God.

Even the decision to deploy forward in order to bolster the Ildoan capital's defensive line was a sound decision.

They had a regiment's worth of mages waiting in the sky for their orders, who all deployed as soon as the call came. Although it was a bit overkill in terms of manpower, it was an extremely appropriate decision. When multiple mana signals suddenly appeared on the ground below, they were able to react without hesitation.

Those who lived to tell the tale would remark that it was just as they had expected. Enemy mages trying to sneak toward the capital by traveling along the ground had been predicted long before the Boxer duo found them. That was how the appearance of multiple explosion formulas on the ground was met with minimal confusion.

The Corinth mages handled their first contact with the enemy with expert speed and precision. They raised defensive shells while immediately climbing higher. This was a textbook response to enemy mages springing an ambush from the ground. It was like seeing honor students in action. Their follow-up was equally impressive, as they quickly returned fire to suppress those on the ground. These mages were different from those who

knew their tactics only by the books. They were true warriors.

The Unified States mages in the Corinth Regiment carried out their commander's orders to the tee…only to meet their demise that day.

They made a single mistake.

These skilled mages were, unfortunately, up against a beast of war born from blood and iron.

For they knew not the danger of the man-eating demon that was the 203rd.

"Drop your formulas and charge! Charge!"

Before Tanya can even finish her concise orders, her battalion abandons the bikes on the ground as they shoot into the sky.

The initial explosion formulas were nothing more than a distraction. Tanya and her soldiers know that an explosion formula wouldn't have much effect against an enemy already expecting an attack from the ground. They know from their experience in the east how ineffective they are against a proper defensive shell (this is especially true when dealing with Federation soldiers).

Only amateurs would make the mistake of thinking mages are soft enough targets to be blown out of the sky with a single explosion. Formulas don't do much more than bend reality. Just like bayonets, however, magic blades cut right through the problem.

"Rush them! Break up their formation!"

It isn't rare for melee combat to be the answer when individual soldiers are capable of holding their own against an opponent. The 203rd Aerial Mage Battalion is a powerful unit known for its hit-and-run tactics. Up against an entire regiment, it's best for us to stick with what we know.

Maintaining the bare-minimum defensive shell, they use the rest of their mana to increase their altitudes. There's a reason the Elinium Arms Type 97 is called an assault computation orb.

The dual core excels at acceleration above all else. Like an out-of- control mustang, the Type 97 is more than capable of bucking an unskilled pilot, paying no mind to what happens to its rider. Nevertheless, this is an excellent piece of machinery. With the right knight, even an unruly horse

can be an incredible stallion. The unstoppable, menacing acceleration these orbs produce is akin to…the heavy cavalry of the past. With the right officer and right environment, the Empire's enemies would get the full experience of the orb's destructive power and force.

"Unsheathe your magic blades! Show these manual thumpers what real violence and mayhem look like!"

As Tanya barks her orders, she finds herself overcome with a poetic mindset. She decides to give a bit of a supplementary explanation to let her soldiers know the significance of this encounter.

"Let us show our friends from the New World the essence of war!"

When I turn, I find my battalion accelerating beautifully upward beside me.

I'm satisfied to see that even the newer Lieutenant Wüstemann is able to keep up with the more veteran members of my battalion, such as Major Weiss and Lieutenant Grantz.

Then I glance over at our enemies, who are putting on a more pitiful show.

They're caught completely off guard by the sudden assault and have halted in a moment's hesitation.

"It seems like our new friends were expecting a shoot-out!"

A wide grin appears on Tanya's face. Their assumption was a safe one. Nobody expects a frontal assault when the sheer firepower of an entire regiment can be brought to bear. It didn't take long for them to snap out of their stupor, but…a moment's hesitation is lethal when the Type 97 can bring Imperial mages within striking distance. By the time they come to their senses and try to maneuver away, it's already too late.

Could they stop the charging cavalry with their broken formation? And not just against any cavalry, but the battle-hardened knights of the Empire?

It's inhumane how clear the answer to this question is: unequivocally,

no.

Were this possible, mages wouldn't be feared by foot soldiers, and the

Devil of the Rhine moniker would be more cute than anything else.

Leaving my back to Lieutenant Serebryakov, I cut right through the shattered regiment's formation like a hot knife through butter.

This is just the natural way of things. It's war logic, in the same way the heavier side of the scale brings up the lighter side. These beasts are born

from ration and necessity. They are fearsome Imperial monsters, with fangs sharpened by modern technology, and they will use their fangs with expert precision to consume people. Their opponents, the Unified States Corinth Regiment, are, for better or for worse, a solid and sound unit of mages. They respond to the sudden rush by the book they trained with.

"Corinth Leader to all units! Distance yourselves from the enemy! Then get back into formation!"

The regimental commander gives his levelheaded orders, which are appropriate by any standard. When on the receiving end of an ambush, an army should retreat as soon as possible. With enough distance, they could take the time to get back into formation and organize a counterattack. This is a perfectly acceptable method for handling a sudden ambush.

The leader's decision to reposition his forces is a good one, but reality is cruel. As correct as his decision may be, his troops lack the experience to carry out his orders proactively, and they need more time to process their new orders.

Falling out of their initial position already created a lag in their reaction times. Some of them are able to move exactly how they trained. These soldiers, who follow their commander's orders precisely, fall back and form up without trouble.

Other soldiers take a bit more time to kick into action. The moment they process their new orders, they fear splitting off from their companions, who are already retreating. Thus, in order to catch up, they accelerate as quickly as they can.

And the rest…are too preoccupied by the enemies flying toward them with blades at the ready. Before they can process their new orders, they realize what's happened—they've been left behind by their allies and are in grave danger. The panic that hits them blocks out everything they learned in training.

Not a single one of them knows why this is happening. It doesn't matter, for while they spend their final moments in a confused panic, the enchanting glimmer of the Imperial mages' blades are the last thing they see as their spinal fluid spills from their bodies onto the ground below.

This is the moment the scale tips in the Empire's favor. The Unified soldiers are in disarray. Their once perfectly organized formation has been, ironically enough, thrown into chaos by a single optimal order, making their

soldiers easy prey in the sky. Prey that has the misfortune of sharing the sky with this war's apex predator, the vile 203rd.

"Dominate them, comrades! Dominate! Dominate! Dominate!"

As unfortunate as the situation is for the Unified side, Tanya isn't going to let this prime chance pass her by as she waves her hand vigorously to urge her soldiers forward, barking orders, and even conducting an attack of her own.

A pursuit is always the ideal position to be in for a commanding officer. Nothing makes a better target than an enemy's back. This is especially true when the enemy is running after committing a grave error.

Though the orders I need to give are simple enough, a bit of creativity to spice them up and rally the troops never hurts. I'm always willing to go the extra mile as a good boss when it comes to improving my employees' work environment.

"It's party time, comrades!"

"What should we do for our main course, Colonel?"

Tanya shows the makings of a grimace at her adjutant's nonchalant question before deciding to go along with it. A party does need a main course, after all. And it's the host's job to provide a meal for their guests that suits the occasion.

Naturally, this would be easy enough to procure. They couldn't ask for fresher imported meat considering what was staring right at them.

"It's a bit late, but how about a nice Thanksgiving dinner? We have fresh turkey from the New World just waiting to be shot! Live game, if you will! Ha-ha-ha!"

I laugh at my own cheeky joke. Our forces are elegantly running wild through the enemy lines.

War is silly. Which is why I believe it's important to step back and laugh at it from time to time. As I do exactly that, I take this opportunity to check up on my subordinates.

"Tell me, Lieutenant Wüstemann! Are you enjoying the party?!" "Y-yes!"

It isn't the most confident response I've ever heard, but he gets a passing

grade for being able to answer in the first place during an all-out aerial brawl. It's proof that he's aware of his surroundings and not too focused on his enemy. I'd taken him for an inexperienced officer, but it seems he's grown into his role swimmingly.

"Ha-ha-ha, you've gotten used to this already. You should be proud of yourself, Lieutenant. We're up against the enemy's best and brightest textbook-thumping elites."

I plant my magic blade in the chest of an enemy mage, creating another red stain in Ildoa's blue sky while praising my subordinate's hard work.

"A single good deed is worth a thousand words. You're doing a good job for your first time. I'm looking forward to seeing you rack up your score and eventually garnering a name of your own."

Tanya's words of encouragement are interrupted by Lieutenant Grantz yelling out as he cuts down another mage.

"No fair! A new recruit's score shouldn't even count!"

The first lieutenant, who's worked hard for his score, complains loudly. I remember how difficult it was for him to raise his score back on the Rhine and flash a big smile as I home in on my next target.

I take aim, adjust my weapon, then fire. As soon as I'm done, I offer Grantz some frank advice as I liquefy the enemy at close range with my submachine gun.

"Come now, Lieutenant Grantz! The times are changing! Nothing wrong with a little workplace reform, eh?"

"What?!"

"Resistance is futile! The workplace is always changing! For the better!" Each time the survivors of the assault try to regroup in company-sized units, the 203rd immediately cuts them down. The 203rd, broken up into four companies, continues its coordinated assault to prevent the enemy from reorganizing themselves while constantly knocking more mages out of the

sky.

What broke the Corinth regiment's morale the most was the Imperial mages' shared laughter that could be heard during the onslaught. And why wouldn't it? There was no way for them to predict aerial mages capable of flying at this speed, swinging their magic blades with smiles on their faces while their allies were turned to mincemeat.

This is their first time clashing with the unknown, and that unknown

turns out to be a monstrous enemy who has come just to give them a bloodbath. Their will to fight all but dwindles as they stare into the jaws of this vicious beast of war.

Nevertheless, the Unified soldiers stand and fight. They take up their arms, just like they practiced in training, grip their orbs, and face their enemies.

Though only barely…it's commendable that the regimental commander manages to marshal his troops enough to put up an organized resistance.

Though the Corinth Regiment was dealt a severe blow by an enemy mage battalion, the chain of command is still operational.

"They're putting up a surprising amount of fight."

Even I can't help but notice their persistence. A smile appears on my face. Their resistance means little to the widely feared Devil of the Rhine, who can summon the Imperial Army's war knowledge.

I clap my hands before pointing at the enemy officer showing the best movements among his peers.

"We won't be needing him much longer." My adjutant hears my murmur and nods.

"Thanks to their officer's hard work, we don't have to worry about any stragglers getting away."

"Precisely." Tanya grins.

"He saved us the hard work of finding a regiment's worth of deserters."

It's no easy task chasing down a regiment with a battalion, but the enemy leader saved the 203rd from having to do this. Now that the numbers are about even, there is no point in delaying the inevitable any longer.

Time to finish them. I wave my arm. "Let's show them a plunge!"

Everyone understands the meaning of those words. There is a principle of war that is pertinent even outside of mage battles.

The higher the ground, the better.

We're technically in the skies, but being higher is always the superior position. And with our Elinium Arms Type 97 Assault Computation Orbs… the Empire has the advantage in altitude. With the enemy huddling together in one place, we will plunge onto them from above. It's a simple maneuver, but as effective as it is violent.

With our plunge, the clear blue sky is quickly filled with crimson petals that rain down toward the ground.

-x-X-x-

THE SAME DAY, THE 8TH PANZER DIVISION

From Colonel Lergen's perspective, one's expression often told more than their mouth. Not that some things weren't worth being put into words anyway, but the smile of a certain young lieutenant colonel, wearing a cap stained with what was almost certainly the blood of her enemies, spoke volumes to him.

He knew exactly what this meant—that Lieutenant Colonel Degurechaff had come with good news. It didn't take an Imperial engineer to figure that out. Her smile made it clear she had the news he was waiting for. Strangely enough, though…the young 8th Panzer Division major standing with her seemed a bit uneasy. He was a young officer, but even taking that into consideration…what had him so agitated?

Beginning to feel a little agitated himself, Colonel Lergen questioned the situation for a moment, only to soon stop himself. He looked at the small child, drenched in blood, smiling from ear to ear. This was, objectively, a bizarre sight to see. And yet, the sight wasn't unsettling for Lergen in the slightest.

"Well, this is a bit of a problem…"

It appeared he was utterly desensitized to the sight. Be that as it may, it wasn't something he could fix about himself despite identifying the problem.

He allowed himself a bit of a wry smile before looking Degurechaff in the eyes, who responded with a perfect salute. There was nothing else for Colonel Lergen to do or say. Why would the 8th Panzer Division reprimand the poor girl for a heroic victory?

The young major stood at ease while Tanya gave Lergen her report.

"We annihilated the majority of the enemy mage regiment. With friendly forces securing air superiority on top of that, nothing shall threaten our air

superiority for the time being."

"Great work. That's fantastic news."

Air superiority. A phrase that was always pleasing to the ear. For a panzer unit that wished to move quickly, safe skies were an immense tactical advantage.

"All that's left is the enemy's field troops. Things don't look so well on this front."

"Colonel Lergen. Could it be that you're having a difficult time destroying their troops?"

"Unfortunately, yes." "Why is that?"

Lergen paused for a moment. He questioned how much detail he should go into before concluding that he could simply excuse the young major from the meeting. Giving the young major simple orders to take care of did the trick. The two watched as he ran eagerly out of the room before Lergen gave his explanation with a sigh.

"We can't help it if General Zettour's political maneuvers will take precedent over military tactics, but the cease-fire has had grave consequences. While we managed to stockpile a bit of fuel and resources, the enemy has done far more with their time."

Not only did the Empire have a chronic lack of…everything, but their position wasn't great, either.

Lergen decided to share the main cause of the problem next.

"What's more, we clearly lack the soldiers needed to wipe out the enemy forces… Were we allowed to attack toward the capital, it would be a different story…but we have clear orders not to do that. This is a severe restriction."

"Is it a spatial restriction?"

"Yes," Lergen said, confirming her suspicions. Despite the many restrictions on where they could send their troops and how they could use them, they lacked the manpower to complete the many goals that must be met in each location.

"If we divide up your unit, do you think you could become a hammer, Colonel?"

"Would your troops act as the anvil?"

Colonel Lergen looked Lieutenant Colonel Degurechaff in the eyes for a

short moment before shaking his head.

As they were both career soldiers, he and Tanya quickly came to the same conclusion: It wouldn't be possible. Tanya joined the colonel in a duet of sighs, which filled the empty command room with orchestral disappointment.

"As it stands, we were able to use our mobility to threaten the enemy to a certain degree. But at this rate…"

"You needn't say the rest, Colonel. There is a high probability that the advance on this front will completely stall… I can only wonder what the general's aim is in all of this."

The reason the two could share in their show of pessimism was that they were two commanding officers in the same room.

With this in mind, Tanya offered Lergen her thoughts.

"The Ildoan peninsula isn't that wide, geographically speaking. This is ideal for building a defensive line. Should the enemy set up their trenches, it will be hard for us to advance."

Geography was everything in a war. In Ildoa's case, the peninsula presented an extremely thin front, which made it much easier to defend. Leaving no space for an attacker to slip through, they could thoroughly cover the entire line with a minimal number of troops.

"Colonel…since it is you I'm speaking with, I'll share a bit more with you. We have a total of twenty-two divisions here on the Ildoan front. This certainly isn't small from a tactical standpoint, but it dwarfs our numbers in the east in terms of relative scale."

"I know. The general shared with me the disposition of our troops. It is clear to me that the intention was to gain an advantage using our high mobility throughout Ildoa."

"That's correct. In all honesty, we have a full army here."

Up until recently, Lergen had been going over the numbers back at the General Staff Office.

He'd done the final numbers for the east and the reserve forces, but it had been a long time since he'd seen a front as heavily loaded as Ildoa's.

"Six full panzer divisions, and five more mechanized divisions. The majority of these eleven divisions deployed at full strength, including my own panzer division, while the rest met the bare minimum needed for a division."

"So half of them are built for speed. It's clear that this is meant to be a mobile war. I'm surprised we're able to hold the line in the east while bringing this many to bear in Ildoa… So why the delay?"

Lergen knew the value of taking advantage of an opportunity to break out of a bind, and he had experienced the tragic consequences of coming to a standstill. For only a few days earlier, he successfully led the 8th Panzer Division south past the enemy's defensive line.

"It's quite frightening. We've put everything we have into this war and used it well, but I can't shake the fear that we'll let this chance slip by."

"It is strange. Is a supply problem causing our current delays?" Perhaps the general was concerned about logistics.

"No," Lergen answered, accompanied by a firm shake of his head when addressing the question about logistics.

"We certainly are lacking in areas, such as fuel, but this is Colonel Uger and General Zettour we're talking about here. We have it much better here than we did in the east."

While they received only the bare minimum amount of fuel necessary, this much was to be expected.

They had bullets and fuel. Taking it a step further, they had enough warm meals with plenty of fat on them for at least two a day. Their logistics department was doing fantastic work considering how deep into enemy territory they had advanced.

"I'm still at a loss as to why we accepted the cease-fire in the first place. According to my sources, General Zettour used my name to approach our enemy?"

Lergen shot Tanya a look and could tell she knew exactly what he was talking about.

"Yes, I was brought along as his personal bodyguard for the talks." General Zettour really did trust this girl. To an incredible extent, even.

While appreciating the general's trust in the lieutenant colonel, Lergen asked a question that had been plaguing his mind for a while now.

"Why did the general stop our advance? Why did he authorize the cease- fire in the first place?"

"I haven't the slightest idea why he would do either of those things." "Despite being there for the talks?"

Degurechaff answered his question by quietly shaking her head. Both

she and the colonel shared the same thought.

Why did we need to stop a week ago?

The Imperial soldiers knew what would happen if they did: This front would get bogged down in trench warfare.

All it took was for the enemy to dig the holes to hunker down in, and considering how long and thin the Ildoan peninsula was…they didn't need to dig too many holes. There weren't many locations as difficult to attack as this one. The moment the battle devolved into trench warfare, it could easily turn into a stalemate.

Lergen was very apprehensive about the prospect of getting mired in hell like he did back on the Rhine front.

"The last thing I want to get us into is more trench warfare. Now is our only chance to advance."

"We have broken through a large-scale web of trenches before…"

"We can't pull another Open Sesame. It would take far too long to prepare the tunnels. No matter how you shake it, our current line of attack is designed to hit hard and fast. There's no reason to even consider anything else."

Lergen crossed his arms and then reached for some tobacco before sensing someone staring at him.

"What's the matter, Colonel? Is there something on my face?"

"I must admit, I'm a bit relieved to see you with such a troubled look on your face."

"What? Wait, what do you mean by that?"

"I would've been worried if I saw you with a wicked smile. The sort General Zettour shows when he is cooking up something wretched."

"Ah…," Lergen responded with a troubled chuckle. "A smile…"

That wasn't something he could easily show in a situation like this. It went without saying why. And yet, it was strange how the world worked sometimes. For whatever reason, it was just as clear to him that the General Zettour in question was most definitely smiling that very second.

Lergen put the tobacco back down and tilted his head to the side in thought.

"I have no intention of criticizing my superior, but I have no idea what General Zettour plans to do. Surely you must have some insight?"

"I can offer you only a sip of a fine liquor brewed from guesswork and

secrecy. How would you like it served?"

"Dilute it with a bit of water for me. What do you think his goal is?" "World peace."

Degurechaff stared straight into Lergen's eyes when she said these words. She spoke without the slightest hint of hesitation or sarcasm—she chirped her nonsensical response as if it were a universal truth.

"I believe that General Zettour is a pacifist that knows no peers." "Perhaps you should look up the meaning of that word, Colonel."

"There's no need for that. If there is no aspiration more noble than peace in this world, then General Zettour is a true pacifist. That is what I believe, at least."

"Are you being serious?"

Lergen gave Degurechaff a dumbfounded look, but she continued as serious as could be.

"There is no one in this world who wishes for the Empire's peace more than the general. To do virtue to the transitive property, if we're able to accomplish world peace, it means peace for the Empire."

The Empire's peace. World peace. And the general's goal. As easy as these words were to say, they thoroughly stimulated Lergen's mind.

"So why do you suppose the general is having us attack Ildoa?"

"My best guess is that if world peace isn't possible, then he decided the next best option was to watch the world burn to a beautiful crisp."

"Come again…?"

Lergen stared blankly while Degurechaff calmly restated her opinion. "He wants to bring an end to us and the world."

"Like a double suicide? Ha, ha-ha, ha…" He forced a laugh out, only to realize he wasn't laughing nearly as much as he had intended to. "Hopefully his wish doesn't come true… Hm?"

"Colonel Lergen?"

That was when the realization hit him, leaving him with no choice but to laugh.

What if we're fighting despite knowing his wish can't come true?

Lergen knew well the anguish of being a buffoon. He had experienced failure in his own struggle to secure peace. A path he wasn't able to pursue, and a point of true remorse for him.

The world was so vile that it made one want to vomit. Which was why it

took everything the colonel had to keep his composure.

He crossed his arms and shook his head to relieve himself of his cruel imagination, but there was a thought that refused to leave.

It couldn't be. Could it?

His concern would eventually find its way to his lips.

"If our orders were to put pressure on the Ildoan capital, then it just may be viable diplomatic ammo. But what if we look at the situation with a total disregard for common sense?"

"What's that, Colonel?"

"Let's think this through, Colonel… We are currently at a standstill with the Ildoa troops, who now have the backing of the Unified States, despite having the enemy capital within firing distance."

"That is correct… Hm?"

-x-X-x-

[Image]

-x-X-x-

Degurechaff then gave Lergen a look that suggested she knew where he was going.

With a difficult-to-describe expression about her, she continued.

"In normal circumstances, our current situation could be evaluated as stagnation. For we have yet to lay a finger on our should-be target, the capital."

This was what the situation would look like to untrained eyes, at the very least. The Empire had failed their mission and the Ildoan and Unified soldiers had successfully protected the capital. The newspapers would focus on the prior, without going into too much detail on the immense damage suffered to make the latter happen.

"Precisely. Even the enemy soldiers will view this as our failure to seize the capital."

"But the only reason we haven't done so is because General Zettour gave us clear orders not to. What if it's the opposite? Not that we lost our chance to attack the capital, but…?"

The two both engaged in examining the situation from a more demented perspective. What if, from the very beginning, their potential attack on the Ildoan capital was not the goal itself, but the means to achieve a different goal?

Lergen turned to Tanya, speaking in an attempt to organize his thoughts out loud.

"The Unified States will come to Ildoa's aid. The Empire will lose to the duo, who are filled with joy over the victory they earn."

This was the moment both of them realized a mistake in their train of thought.

They would experience victory, only to end in defeat.

Defeat. After the media told the world the Alliance had successfully defended the capital.

It would give them a taste of heaven before pulling them down to hell. Essentially, the actions of a man with a wonderful personality. "Colonel, I think I know what's going on."

"Oh? And what's that?"

Lergen's question was overshadowed by the sound of someone rushing into the tent. It was the same young officer who Lergen had sent out earlier on an errand.

"Colonel Lergen! We have emergency orders from Command…!" "Thank you," Lergen said as he looked down at the note in his hand

before telling the major to return to the communications room. Just as he was finishing reading the message, he realized Colonel Tanya was smiling to herself. "Colonel Degurechaff?"

"Let me guess. The orders are for a full-scale attack. Our target is the enemy field troops… And I'm guessing we'll be surrounding them from their flank."

Tanya easily listed her predictions, which made Colonel Lergen look from her to the paper in his hand, then back to her.

He then closed his eyes for a moment before expressing what had him so stunned.

"Did you already know these orders?" She knew what he meant by this.

"So I am correct…?" "You are, Colonel."

He passed her the note, which she read in a single glance before grimacing.

"He is the worst sort of con artist, isn't he?"

The general's plan was as crafty as could be, after all. According to the orders he gave, the field soldiers sent in to defend the Ildoan capital were unable to retreat for political reasons. Therefore, the Empire had successfully managed to use the capital as bait to trap the enemies in their current position.

With this in mind, there was only one plausible course of action the Imperial Army had left to take…and that was a full-scale attack. The Empire would likely allocate half of their armored forces to create an echelon to penetrate the enemy line south of the capital, taking out any field troops who would try to establish their base while posing a counterattack with any surviving troops. It was simple. Their enemy had spent the last week accumulating as much firepower as they could for one goal: to protect the capital. The Empire would, in turn, crush the culmination of all their effort in a single blow.

"We're going to crush their dream of protecting the capital."

"…We're going sweep their glorious victory right from under their feet…"

"It'll be nothing short of mental torture."

"You're right about that," Lergen agreed as he felt the lightening of his soul. "Our job is to show them this is a lost cause."

"That it's all a lost cause." "Yes…"

Colonel Lergen then realized something unsettling as he gently shook his head.

"…So we're giving them a glorious victory, then taking it right back…" "What's that, Colonel?"

He waved away Tanya's questioning look, swallowing the doubt in his mind before sending her off.

It wasn't something he wanted to say out loud.

That this…was exactly what had happened to the Empire.

1 Why is it usually called an armored division instead of a tank division in English? I supposed that technically, an armored division is made up of more than just tanks, including mechanized infantry and other stuff…but I think the real reason is that languages are hard…