Youjo Senki - Volume 1 - Chapter 4

[chapter] IV War College 

IMPERIAL WAR COLLEGE ADMISSIONS COMMITTEE 

“It’s the appointed time, so I’d like to begin the Imperial War College Admission Committee’s third round of reviews.” An instructor from the war college is leading the meeting, and the row of committee members are all talented key figures in the army. The Empire has a long tradition of investing people and time in the selection of next-generation leaders. 

The result is outstanding commanders at every level trained to a high standard of excellence. 

“Today we’ll be reviewing candidates up for reexamination.” 

For that reason, war college admissions are discussed as a matter linked directly to national strategy and defense. Naturally, they spare no effort to discover the ideal candidates, considering multiple future placement options during the process. 

The army values diversity, so the committee holds second and third rounds of review with different members for candidates who don’t pass. It would be a horrible loss for the Empire if an exceptional candidate were dismissed as unfit. 

And history has proven that this process is the correct one. 

Many people, including distinguished officers of both the army and navy, have become central figures in the armed forces thanks to the multiple stages of assessment. General Möltke the Great is such a fine commander that the reviewer who selected him said the greatest accomplishment of his military life was “discovering the magnificent Möltke the Great,” but he still received severe criticism to the tune of “I can’t imagine this candidate becoming a soldier” and only barely managed to squeak by in the third round. 

“As usual, I hope we can make this a lively debate and hear from the perspectives of the front lines, the General Staff, and the war college.” 

And the Imperial War College traditionally chooses to downplay the question of how many rounds it takes someone to pass. 

Two recent examples are Zettour and Rudersdorf, both selected in the second round. There were apprehensions that the former was “too scholarly and thus not suited to becoming a general,” while the latter, despite being acknowledged as “sharp and dynamic,” was criticized for his “tendency to daydream.” Both of them were accepted after those remarks were made. 

Nevertheless, the two of them are now treated as geniuses and entrusted with the future of the army, so much so that they are on the admissions committee. Due to cases like these, it is even said that candidates who pass in the first screening, with its very general standards, won’t amount to very much. 

The army is thorough, as evidenced by the way they weed out mere dogmatists and allow people who are dropped in the first round to be accepted in the second or third rounds. 

“We’ll start with the request submitted by Major von Lergen from Personnel to reassess a candidate who passed in the first round.” 

The Empire is so thorough that a candidate accepted in the first round would normally never be deemed unfit. 

That’s why everyone is so confused. 

For a moment, no one can help but look at the presiding war college instructor with bafflement. The request is to reassess a candidate who already passed the first round and doesn’t even require a second. What exactly is Major von Lergen trying to say? The war college instructor has to continue the meeting, but he probably doesn’t know himself. 

“During the first screening, which is done anonymously to ensure impartiality, the candidate up for review was given a ‘superior’ rating.” 

The first screening consists of multiple reviewers examining documents from which all personal information about the candidates has been omitted. The reviewers are given only a list of the candidates’ achievements and evaluations from their academic advisors and Intelligence. That eliminates any bias, which makes it possible to examine the candidates more or less accurately. 

Eventually the personal information would be released, and the committee would make the final decision on which officers would advance along the army’s elite track. The screenings have to be strict and fair. Naturally, receiving the best evaluation possible means the candidate lacks nothing, according to the army. 

“But the major has objections and has requested a reassessment. We’re holding this review in response to that request.” 

The comment indirectly implies that he finds it hard to understand why the reassessment is happening. In all reality, if the request hadn’t come from a section chief in Personnel who was able to investigate candidates in more detail, it would most likely never have gone through. 

Previous disputes regarding the suitability of first-round admissions took issue with how ordinary the candidates were. That’s why it’s no surprise the instructor sounds skeptical. Very few officers received “excellent” scores in their anonymous evaluations, much less “superior”—Major von Lergen is raising doubts about the top nominee. 

If the candidate were the child of an influential officer or someone with noble connections, it might make more sense to worry about bias. Cases of suspected favoritism are rare, but they are not unheard of. 

The candidate in question, however, is the orphan of a soldier. It goes without saying, then, that there are no influential relatives. The ones who made the recommendations had no prior relationship with the candidate; neither were there any ties to factions or nobility. Not only that, all the recommending officers were straitlaced veterans who had achieved much in the field and never caused any problems. 

Closing the door on a self-made officer with such outstanding records is not in keeping with the tradition of the military. Everyone turns to Major von Lergen for explanation. 

“Major von Lergen, I’m curious to know what criteria informed your decision. Looking at the records, I can only conclude he’s a fantastic candidate.” He sounds somewhat amused, but Brigadier General von Rudersdorf is voicing the question on everyone’s minds: Why? “Given the recommendation from his unit, his standing at the academy, the background check from Intelligence, the military police investigation report, and his achievements, this officer is exceptional. I wonder what the problem is.” 

Recommendations for achievement exist to select distinguished officers. Young—fledgling, really—officers are chosen in the hopes that making the best use of the army’s talent will result in many future benefits. 

The candidate’s unit recommendation consisted of unreserved praise. Academic records revealed a slight lack of practical training compared to some candidates, but superior combat experience made up for that. In terms of simply fitting the requirements, this officer was worthy of being considered a top candidate. And in fact, the review score was nearly perfect. 

Even Intelligence and the military police, who were usually so particular, both came back with the highest praise. How many times had that ever happened? 

“Hmm, how to say…? I believe, and I think many of you agree, that he’s one of the most promising candidates we’ve had in recent years—uncommonly good.” In other words, even Brigadier General von Rudersdorf, who prides himself being contrary, has a hard time understanding why such a great candidate would be doubted. If the reassessment request hadn’t come from one of the top elites in Personnel, who was known for his intolerance of flaws, everyone would have shouted him down. 

“True, the candidate has performed at the highest level in every area, but nevertheless, I find this a difficult one to admit.” Major von Lergen, however, declares that he asked for the reassessment despite acknowledging all the candidate’s strengths. 

“He came in second in his class, hasn’t made any trouble for the military police, and according to Intelligence, he’s a patriot. And they guarantee he can uphold confidentiality. He even got a recommendation from his combat unit!” 

Naturally, to the committee, Lergen’s objection can only be a joke. To preserve candidate anonymity, decorations and what years they attended the academy were redacted, but this one’s records are such that they practically guarantee an award of Aerial Field Service Badge or better. 

After all, a recommendation from a combat unit requires excellence of both character and skills. 

“If we drop this candidate, we won’t be able to admit any new students this year.” The solemn comment accurately represents nearly the entire committee’s thoughts. Brilliant is the only word to describe a candidate with such ability, achievements, and evaluations. If they were to throw out this one, they would have to disqualify everyone else as well. 

“I’ve decided to make an exception and reveal the identity of the candidate this time. Take a look at this.” Unable to let things go on like this, the chief of general affairs in Personnel hands out the document in question. As a rule, candidates remain anonymous for reviews, but he has the authority to reveal their identities if circumstances warrant it. 

He doesn’t know Lergen well, but he wants to at least give him a hand, even if he’s basically doing it in good faith to safeguard the major’s career. 

The candidate is a rare (and that’s an understatement) Silver Wings Assault Badge recipient and was also nominated for an Aerial Field Service Badge for frontline accomplishments. Such an officer would normally be wholeheartedly welcomed as a future leader. 

The problem is that the one who achieved all these things is a child of eleven. Any sensible officer would hesitate to send a little kid into battle. The general affairs director figures Lergen is opposing her advancement due to her age. That is about as much as he understands of the situation, but he agrees to declassify the information. 

“…You mean a kid did all these things?” Her age is enough to stun even Rudersdorf. By that point, it seems that everyone understands how abnormal this is. The room abruptly quiets down in confusion and astonishment. 

She became a magic first lieutenant at age eleven. Graduated from the academy second in her class. Received the Silver Wings Assault Badge and was recommended for the Aerial Field Service Badge. Was recognized as an Ace of Aces with sixty-two downed (plus thirty-two assists) and nicknamed “White Silver.” And she’s working in the instructor unit? 

They wonder if they should laugh. A résumé like that makes her a prodigy. 

“Cultivating magic officers is a pressing matter, but her age gives you pause, correct?” 

More than a few of the committee members feel she is too young. They aren’t sure they can entrust her with command of a whole battalion. More importantly, even though there has long been demand for more magic officer training, some people criticize magic officers as shortsighted. 

“Yes. She may be a competent magic officer, but whether we can use her as a commander is a different question.” 

Excelling in a highly specialized field is hard enough. Plenty of aerial mages boast outstanding individual capacities, but surprisingly few of them make decent commanders. 

No, a magic officer’s high competency doesn’t necessarily make them a great superior. Not all famous athletes become great coaches. The qualities required for commanders are different from the ones it takes to be an individual ace. 

Thus, some of the officers interpret Lergen’s doubt as a response to the girl’s age and ability level. From those angles, there is indeed room for debate. 

But her reviewers dismiss those concerns. “She’s plenty talented. And her achievements, unit recommendations, and so on fit the requirements perfectly. She has nothing to find fault with.” Her records include her experience leading a platoon with no mistakes. Well, if she couldn’t even lead a platoon, there wouldn’t be any point in officer training; more people than you might expect get tripped up there. 

That said, at this point, considering her unit recommendation, it wouldn’t be right to express doubts as far as her command ability was concerned. 

“She’s an officer from the accelerated training program. Her tactical knowledge might be too specialized. Maybe it would be better for her to do advanced officer schooling first.” 

Some of the generals still raise doubts. She took an accelerated course, after all. Even if she can put what she knows to use in actual combat, she could have holes in her knowledge. Regardless of whether she can give simple instructions at the tactical level, does she have the appropriate skills to give commands that take complex situations into consideration? It’s only common sense to wonder. 

But the reviewers who rated her so highly during the anonymous screening stand their ground. “Her graduation thesis was ‘The Logistics of Swift Deployment.’ The Railroad Department thought very highly of it.” 

As of her graduation, there is already proof that she is capable of debating strategic issues—the thesis in question. 

For a cadet to write on such a subdued topic was rare; usually they preferred something more rousing. Considering the results she had attained on the battlefield, it was even stranger. During the anonymous review, everyone figured the candidate had to be someone with extensive field operation experience if they could write logistical analysis like that. Anyone who read it would assume it was written by an expert and think no more of it. 

And when people who knew logistics read it, they were impressed by the superior writing and viewpoint, even if they didn’t want to admit it. The outline was simple and clear. She emphasized gathering resources and said that supply lines should be secured through depot organization and a standardized distribution process. She argued that efficiency should be a top priority with the goal of eliminating all long-term storage, except for emergency supplies. 

After her criticism of hoarding resources in the rear, she proposed a way of managing essential matériel that would support continuous combat on the front lines. Apparently, it was common knowledge in logistics that the Railroad Department had read it, loved it, and practically begged for her to be assigned to the team. 

In fact, a number of skilled field officers reviewed the paper and gave it high praise. They said that anyone who had ever launched an offensive from the front line and run out of supplies had a keen understanding of where it was coming from. 

Rudersdorf, always worrying about operation logistics himself, was no exception. No one assessing the anonymous candidate would have ever imagined that she was only eleven. 

“Sorry, one thing. I hadn’t given much thought to who wrote it, since information about the author was classified…but it wasn’t a research report from the war college?” 

“No, she wrote it in the academy.” 

“Excuse me, but do you really think any further deliberation is required? I can’t see the need for it myself.” 

If she can debate on topics in logistics, it’s hard to call her shortsighted. Rudersdorf cocks his head. The longer the discussion goes on, the better the candidate looks, and the fewer reasons to doubt her remain. 

Then, and perhaps it’s to be expected, Brigadier General von Zettour breaks his silence, looking as if he can no longer stand by. He doesn’t particularly raise his voice, but his tone is dissatisfied, to be sure. “Here’s a question. It appears that the candidate previously received a recommendation to advance to war college from Brigadier General von Valkov during her field training as a cadet, but Personnel rejected it. Can someone explain what happened?” 

As far as Zettour can see, aside from her age, First Lieutenant Degurechaff is an excellent candidate and fits the bill with no problem. She even received high evaluations from some officers while she was still a cadet. 

Valkov admired her performance in the conflict zone so much that he recommended her for war college admission. Though Zettour had only met him in person a handful of times, he sensed the man’s intelligence during those conversations, and it was hard for him to imagine that Valkov would make a deeply erroneous recommendation. 

And furthermore, as far as he can tell, she was regarded highly throughout her entire career, and her abilities have never been doubted before. 

“Why wasn’t she reviewed at that point? Who rejected her?” 

“…I rejected her for her age and lack of achievements.” 

Zettour nods as if he expects Lergen’s answer and turns a stern eye on him. “Major von Lergen.” 

“Yes, what can I do for you, sir?” 

“I don’t want to go on a tangent questioning your impartiality, so setting aside the initial rejection, why did you request this reassessment?” 

Lergen’s objection is so problematic his fairness is being called into question. Zettour doesn’t outright say it, but everyone is wondering the same thing. She has so much talent, so many achievements. She is an outstanding officer. How could he doubt her? 

“Because I have serious qualms about Lieutenant Degurechaff’s character.” 

Lergen can’t shake a bad feeling he has about her. His experience assessing numerous officers tells him something is off. 

And that uneasiness has solidified into a deep distrust. He is determined not to let this abnormal girl be appointed to the heart of the Imperial Army. 

“Are you saying that despite knowing she scored extremely high on both her psychiatric evaluation and Intelligence’s test of her ability to maintain confidentiality?” 

“Yes.” 

Of course. She would pass both the psychiatric evaluation and Intelligence’s assessment. Not only that, she might even be religious enough to get complimented on her piousness by a priest—most soldiers wouldn’t ask God for forgiveness in the middle of a fight. Still, that only means no one has been able to detect her abnormalities. 

“Are you questioning the results of the tests?” 

“That’s right, but I don’t doubt the tests themselves. I concede that the results are adequate.” 

I’m sure the tests all came up with the right numbers—that’s not what’s abnormal about her. Well, I understand the issue anyhow. That psychiatric evaluation is meant to test adult military professionals, not weirdos like her. So I’m sure those numbers are the result of a fair and carefully conducted test. 

And that’s precisely what’s abnormal. 

“Major von Lergen, I’d like to take the opportunity to remind you that everything you say will go on record, and then ask you to confirm something.” 

“Yes, sir.” 

For Lergen, both going on record and doing major damage to his career are frightening prospects. Really, as one of the best of the best racing down the elite track, he would rather avoid these sorts of arguments. 

But he has to say something—the urge has taken hold of him. His entire body, his soul, warns him of something like a natural enemy to him as a human being—something alien, an abnormality that can’t be allowed to exist. 

“Why do you doubt Lieutenant Degurechaff’s character?” 

“I’ve seen her three times.” 

The first time, he thought she was an outstanding officer candidate. The second time, he thought she was a terrifying officer candidate. The third time, he was sure she was an insane officer candidate. 

“In an official capacity or privately?” 

“All three times came about due to my military duties. I saw her three times during inspections of the military academy.” 

There is probably no cadet who has made a deeper impression on me, and there probably never will be. She’s at least abnormal enough that I can say that. Coolheaded and logical, patriotic and egalitarian, devoutly religious yet a liberal. Though all of those are praiseworthy qualities for a person to have, she’s warped. Something about her is strange and twisted. 

“Are you claiming that she’s done something wrong? Or did she say something?” 

“Please look at the remarks from her instructors. The word ‘abnormal’ is scribbled at the top.” 

Her academic advisor, who had interacted with her the most, had left an interesting memo. Though he gave her excellent scores in every area, he’d scribbled the word abnormal as a personal note. Was it her character that had made him uneasy? Instructors often point out students’ deficiencies, but writing abnormal seems unthinkable. 

“…Hmm, so there is a reason? Please explain.” Even Zettour relaxes his accusatory stance and shows he is willing to listen—although it is only because he feels it necessary to confirm the facts from an impartial point of view. 

“She’s abnormal. I’ve never seen an officer candidate with a fully formed personality and perspective who regards people as objects.” 

She’s just like a perfected machine. She takes orders and carries them out to the letter—an ideal officer. Despite that, she understands reality—I’ve never heard her spout any pointless theories. I just can’t believe she’s normal. 

And that’s why she was capable of what I witnessed when I saw her the third time. 

“Did you ever think it might be some quirk of a genius’s mind?” 

“She definitely comes off as a genius in combat. In fact, General von Valkov and Intelligence jointly recommended her for the Iron Cross Second Class.” 

More than anything, something about that kid as a newly commissioned officer seemed wrong. Lergen exercised his full authority to investigate and found indications that she had participated in actual combat even before she was commissioned as a second lieutenant. 

There were very few clues, but when he put them together, his suspicion of her involvement in an intelligence operation deepened. The recommendation may have been dismissed during the application-processing stage, but they wouldn’t have nominated her for an Iron Cross Second Class for no reason. 

“…You mean during her field training?!” 

This surprises everyone, and a stir goes through the room. It is difficult to believe no matter what, but the rapid growth of her career over such a short time lends it credence. 

During her field training—in other words, when she was nine—this child saw action and came out of it with a nomination for an award? If they heard it anywhere else, they would write it off as a bad joke. The abnormality here is this nonsense coming up during a review of candidates who may hold the future of the army on their shoulders. 

“When I grilled Intelligence, they hinted that they might have involved her in some kind of top secret operation.” 

A border conflict zone… It is a rather dangerous place for an officer candidate to do field training, but…well, still probably fine. But the long-range penetration training makes even the hardiest soldiers scream—and doing it in actual enemy territory? 

A march in full combat gear in the middle of the night to an isolated friendly base across land crawling with barbarians—you’d never expect a cadet to lead that sort of operation. Lergen wrung the information out from an acquaintance from Intelligence, and even he had assumed it was run by a battle-tested warrant officer. 

Well, it made sense. It was only natural that Intelligence would look to such a capable leader for help. They probably never dreamed she was a cadet doing field training. Now Lergen has a hunch that the medal application was withdrawn after they belatedly realized that Tanya was only an officer candidate. 

“…You mean to say that a cadet was involved in a field operation that led Intelligence to apply for her decoration?” 

By now, no one can ignore how anomalous she is. The intelligence officers fend off glares by shaking their heads as if they know nothing about it. But it’s common knowledge that Intelligence’s right hand doesn’t know what its left hand is doing. They have to know that they’d come up with something if they investigated—their faces became awfully pale a few moments ago. 

“If possible, I’d like to get that information declassified.” 

“I’ll check on it. And? If that’s it, I’m pretty sure she’s just an outstanding officer.” We’ll ascertain the truth of this matter. That’s what the chairman means, but he is already convinced. That is why none of this makes sense to him. 

Why is Lergen so skeptical about an officer with whom, aside from her age, they have no issues—not with achievements, performance, or anything else? 

“While attending the academy, she pulled a magic blade on someone for insubordination.” 

“…Isn’t it the senior cadets’ responsibility to smack the rebels into shape?” 

To come out and say it, although military law prohibits taking punishment into one’s own hands, there are unwritten rules. For example, injuries incurred during training are “accidents,” and they happen quite commonly in sparring matches against upper classmates. 

It’s not a nice way to say it, but if the committee is going to punish her for that, almost half of the army deserves some kind of similar criticism. 

“She really meant to pry his head open. If the instructor hadn’t stopped her, she would have turned an able soldier into a disabled person.” Lergen suppresses the urge to shout, No, this is different! and explains. He knows no one could possibly understand unless they were there. 

“Major, if we believed everything the trainers said, the army would be full of corpses by now.” 

Trainers hurling excessively harsh words at new recruits was business as usual for the army. Of the verbal abuse marines and aerial magic officers hurled at recruits during drills, I’m gonna kill you! was still on the cuddly side. In the army, it wasn’t rare to see instruction that completely rejected a student’s worth as a human being. 

Nobody bats an eye when threats like, I’m gonna crack your head open! and I’m gonna blast your empty head off! echo out over the training grounds. And corporal punishment isn’t just endorsed. 

“Even if she tended to go to extremes, that’s a bit of a mean evaluation.” 

“Considering her age, you could say she has great self-control.” 

If it were only words and some threats. Frankly, if that were all, most of them would go by what they know and think it was cute. But they hadn’t see her with their own eyes. 

Actually, they probably even think they are being considerate by not court-martialing people for every failure to obey. 

After all, disobeying a superior officer can, at worst, result in capital punishment by firing squad. To put it a different way, they believe it’s kinder to the new recruits, who might not have great judgment, to punch them out rather than execute them. 

“Hmm, well, if your worries are her age and capacity for self-control, then I suppose I understand.” 

They aren’t going to change their minds at this point. Everyone can agree there is an issue with her age. Coming down hard on a new recruit as the major commented may have been overkill, but it was still within bounds of the permissible. And it isn’t as if they don’t understand his concerns about her unusual ability. 

But actually, by putting her through war college, they can offer her education in areas she lacks and grow her into a remarkable, competent officer. That much is certain, they think. 

“Major von Lergen, your views are too subjective. Yes, I must say you’re lacking in objectivity.” 

Despite all the debate and reservations, she will still be admitted. 

“I recognize that you were trying to be fair. I’m surprised that someone like you would get so caught up in superficial impressions.” 

“Well, nice investigating. We’ll have to grill Intelligence.” 

No one understands that he brought her up as a problem in earnest. Most of the committee thinks he took this tack as an indirect way to criticize Intelligence; with the way army politics works, a personnel section chief can’t very well censure them openly. 

Everyone is sure, though they don’t state it outright, that he requested this reassessment in order to bring up this murky business he discovered while conducting his review of the candidate. The evaluation from Intelligence reflected some sort of secret operation in the past. Certainly in that case, it would partially have been an oversight of his part, but discovering it would work to his credit. And instead of going after him, Intelligence would end up having to issue an apology. 

In other words, the main thing that would register for people was that the personnel section chief did his homework. Basically, he had managed to remain impartial while questioning Intelligence’s secrecy. 

“Nice work, Major von Lergen. We’re not going to reassess her, but we will talk to Intelligence again.” 

“…Thank you.” 

And so, contrary to Lergen’s intentions, no one tries to stop the candidate’s admission. 

Tanya’s days continue on the forward-most line of the Rhine Front in the west—being woken up at any time and thrown into interception missions. As she gets splattered with mud and blood, the smell of gun smoke clinging to not just her hair but her entire body, she is promoted to first lieutenant. The raise in base pay, though small, is a good thing. 

But the part that makes her ecstatic is the accompanying notice that she has been admitted to war college. Luckily, perhaps it should be said. First Lieutenant Schwarkopf assures her that considering Corporal Serebryakov’s proven combat ability, he will recommend her for the officer track so that Tanya can go to war college with no worries. She is glad she can get away without acting like she cares about her subordinate. 

As for the notice itself, getting recommended for admission to the war college is an honor, so that’s a dream come true. To be eligible, you have to be at least a first lieutenant, so she doesn’t even qualify at the moment; apparently, some commendable personage nominated her when recommending her for achievement. Mentally giving thanks to Personnel for their mysterious workings, she naturally accepts the enrollment, which means a transfer to safety in the rear. 

And so… 

First Lieutenant Tanya Degurechaff, eleven years old on paper, has a second opportunity, at least in her subjective memory, to enjoy the life of a college student. To the world, she must look like she’s skipped a few grades, but in reality, it’s my second round of college. From my perspective, it won’t be very hard to fit in. 

Strictly speaking, of course, a war college is quite different from a typical university in terms of both educational mission and curriculum. But in Tanya’s view, it means getting to study in the rear, blessed with three hot meals a day and a hot bath to soak in. What a comfortable life compared to the front lines. 

And to Tanya, a war college and a university are essentially the same thing. As long as I can use signaling theory to market her value as human capital, there is no difference between the two. Not only that, my theory is that war college is even better than a normal university in some ways. 

Certainly in terms of Tanya’s professional future, it’s a sweet deal to not only not pay tuition but also get paid by the state to go and have a career track all laid out for her at the end. So war college freshman First Lieutenant Tanya Degurechaff merrily devotes herself to her studies. Though an elementary school backpack would be more appropriate to someone of her stature, she seems strangely comfortable in her military uniform carrying her officer’s bag. 

Ever since her experiences in the war zones, she can’t go anywhere without her standard-issue rifle and computation orb, so after finishing a few routine tasks, she grabs those as well and heads off for another day at school. Of course, she knows she’s supposed to bring writing utensils to campus, not her rifle… 

Still, at some point, she’s started to feel incomplete without her gear within reach. She never knows when there will be a chance to shoot the mad scientist, a rabid believer, or Being X dead. Therefore, she feels it’s both imperative to consider everywhere a battlefield and be ready to seize any opportunity, and impossible not to. 

Yes, her battlefield is everywhere. That’s precisely why the war college accepted even a little skip grader kid like her so naturally. Even if it isn’t her intention to look tough, it’s difficult to make light of an officer back from the field wearing the Silver Wings Assault Badge and constantly exuding that battlefield tension. 

On top of that, she uses her free time to disassemble her rifle and give it a good cleaning, unconsciously gritting her teeth, dreaming of the moment she will kill Being X. And her response when another officer notices her and asks why she always has her rifle is definitive. 

Looking up with a perplexed expression that makes her seem her age, she says, “I may have to stake my life on this equipment at any moment, so I can’t relax unless I have it with me. I.e., because I’m a coward.” 

“…You mean you don’t feel safe unless it’s within reach?” 

“Yes, sir, something like that. Please consider it the childish habit of a baby who won’t let go of her favorite blanket, and laugh.” 

Yes, that’s probably enough to leave a solid impression. Thus, it doesn’t take long for everyone to perceive First Lieutenant Tanya Degurechaff as less a child than a soldier back from the front lines—that is, they treat their classmate as a frightening but reliable fighter who smiles as she discusses national defense, arguing about the best ways to eliminate enemy troops. 

“Morning, Mr. Laeken.” 

I only realize she’s approaching when I hear her voice. I really can’t even sense her. I do have a little combat experience, but I guess I’ve gotten pretty soft compared to the officers just back from the front. Or is she simply that great of a soldier? 

“Good morning, Lieutenant Degurechaff. Beg your pardon, but do I see you have your rifle again today?” 

In my time as a warrant officer, I’ve seen a lot of commissioned officers, but probably none of them have as bright a future as she does. She’s barely over ten and enrolled in the war college, which they say is unheard of. Well, it’s incredible that a kid that young would even have enough career experience to be a first lieutenant in the first place. 

But I guess the world’s a big place. 

I was just as good as everyone else on the battlefield, but here’s an officer who can get around my back. Lieutenant Degurechaff is clearly not the type of officer you can judge by looks. I hear she brings her rifle and computation orb to school every day and leaves them with the on-duty commander of the guard. 

The reason she can’t be without her weapons must be related to her combat experience. There are some guys who come back and have psychological issues that don’t let them leave their weapons, but her case seems different. She doesn’t seem like she would be particularly nervous without them. 

Basically, she’s making a habit of carrying her weapons. That means she must be ready to do battle at any time, but—and I’m repeating myself a bit—she did receive the Aerial Field Service Badge very young. She’s well trained and addresses noncoms properly. 

Next time I’m on the battlefield, I won’t separate enemy soldiers out by age—if I don’t shoot, I might die. I’ll count that as one lesson learned. 

“Yeah, it’s embarrassing, but apparently habits are hard to break.” 

I know the feeling. Until I finally got used to sleeping in the moonlight, I was always unconsciously looking for cover. I knew I was safe, but the habits you create while you’re fighting for your life don’t fade so easily. 

“Not at all. I think it’s wonderful.” 

Actually, it means she has a good grasp of the important things on the battlefield. Understanding those while keeping a grip on your sanity is a test for green second lieutenants. On the battlefield, harsh reality crushes the rules they believe in. 

Bravery, glory, honor—all those ideals get covered in mud as they fight to the death, and a handful of exceptions make a name for themselves. The secret that those few know is that it’s not so hard. All they have to do is listen to what the noncoms have to say and offer opinions that will garner them respect and admiration. But there are really almost no officers who can do that. 

“Thanks. For someone working their way up, nothing makes me happier than some reassurance.” 

That’s why I have to look past this little girl’s exterior, honor who she is, and assist her with sincerity. 

If an officer can appreciate the effort it takes to climb the ranks, they grow. Understanding that fact, I faithfully fulfill my duties as commander of the guard and pay respect to the small yet illustrious first lieutenant. 

“But with all due respect, Lieutenant, may I ask what brings you here? As you know, today is an off day. There aren’t any classes.” 

It’s what is generally known as the Sabbath—in other words, Sunday. Most pious believers go to church, and some go to confession. I hear this first lieutenant is often praying in earnest at church in the morning. Actually, I’ve seen her staring raptly at an icon more than once. 

“Yeah, it’s something straightforward. I want to use the library; the reference room at the dorm isn’t enough.” 

Although it’s an incredibly simple observation, Lieutenant Degurechaff is really, truly hardworking. Even the grumpy head librarian commends her knowledge, curiosity, and desire to learn, so I guess this girl is the epitome of what a soldier should be. I even heard from my former superior that the General Staff’s strategy section was blown away by her analysis of the lessons of war and reexamination of basic tenets. 

I wonder what she’s got crammed in that little head of hers. She really impresses me. 

“I beg your pardon. Then as usual, please leave your weapons here before making your way in.” 

Normally it’s too much fuss to look after officers’ personal effects; keeping an eye on them takes effort, so I don’t usually want to do it, but this first lieutenant is different. A soldier has no greater friend on the battlefield than their rifle. And for a mage, their computation orb is just as invaluable. Watching over these is an honor, so I don’t even notice the workload. 

“Thanks. Then if you’ll excuse me…” 

After quickly filling in the application and accepting the proof of storage receipt with a practiced hand, Lieutenant Degurechaff proceeds onto campus. I glance after her, and even from behind, I can see that although her stride is small, she steps with confidence. Her narrow shoulders seem incredibly broad. The thought that such an officer trusts me enough to hand over her brothers-in-arms with no hesitation makes me happy in spite of myself. 

“She’s an awfully cheeky little bed wetter.” 

But an idiot shows up to rain on my parade. He doesn’t understand how lucky I feel. It’s amazing that she’s a commissioned officer so young, and this bozo doesn’t possess anything to commend him on besides his age. 

“Are you stupid? She may look young, but it’s not piss she smells like! She’s got the scent of combat around her, gun smoke and blood.” 

So even a sergeant with combat experience can be this naive. Achieving that level of perfection as a soldier takes enough skill and love for battle to rival the old-timers. To put it a different way, even if you despise war as a human being, there has to be something about it that you love, or you’ll never be able to understand her. 

“Sergeant, is that all you think about her?” 

“Huh? No, of course I think she’ll make a great officer.” 

Of course she’ll make a great officer. If she were my battalion commander I’d gladly follow her. Whether on an assault or breaking up a penetrating enemy force, performing delaying action or even rearguard duty—I’d follow her anywhere. War loves her. 

She’ll make her mark—her whole unit is sure to get the highest honors. I’m convinced. I know because I’ve observed so many officers: She’s what they call a hero. 

“Pay attention, moron. She carries two computation orbs, but she only gave you one!” 

But there’s no use trying to explain that to a numbskull like this. She turned in her rifle and backup computation orb as a compromise to respect my duties. It’s virtually her right to keep the other orb, the one she’s used the most. 

So, yeah, I don’t feel like pointing that out to a guy who doesn’t even notice that I tacitly allowed her to take it because I understood. 

“Maybe she kept it unconsciously, but boy, she doesn’t let her guard down.” 

“If the Officer of the Week finds out, there’ll be trouble.” 

…Agh, is that still all you think of her…? 

Tanya’s mental state as she walks the increasingly familiar war college campus is a bit complicated, as usual. If a human loses their sense of shame, they become shameless, which is dishonorable to a social creature. In that sense, being ashamed is a phenomenon that’s particular to social creatures. 

Which is why… Ugh, how embarrassing… Though I’m intent on revenge, I know I can’t be proud of carrying my rifle with me everywhere. 

So after an instructor indirectly chided me for it, I’ve taken to leaving my firearm with the commander of the college guards. Tanya compromises by carrying a combat knife specifically made for non-magic battles, so she’s never completely unarmed. 

Still, it would be a lie if I said the way they look at me when I go to turn in my weapons doesn’t bother her. I don’t like being exposed to their amused glances, as if I’m some weirdo under observation. But considering they have a point, there is nothing I can do about it. 

Maybe it’s my imagination, but I can’t help but feel the guards are laughing at me— Here’s that dork again, bringing her rifle to school. But Tanya can grasp why they might stare at a fully outfitted mage wandering around the rear. I can’t get upset if it’s something I would do myself. 

Still, I have a reason for always being prepared that I can’t tell anyone else. 

It’s a simple issue of dignity. If my rational mind gets buried in faith, my sense of self will fade; I can just see myself becoming Being X’s toy if I don’t keep my raison d’être 16 clear. 

This guy calling himself God has a lot of time on his hands if he’s playing with dolls, but the one being played with isn’t going to stand for it. 

So to clarify and renew her knowledge of her enemy, Tanya has been going to the nearest church on Sundays for a while now and cultivating her hatred before a false idol of Being X. Inside her, a chorus of curses joins her unbounded loathing—a healthy state of mind. That is the individual Tanya Degurechaff’s response to the manipulator of humans, Being X. She takes her rifle with her so that if a chance materializes, she can shoot him, but unfortunately she never runs into him there. 

Of course, I know that’s an unproductive way for Tanya to spend her time. Even so, if I neglect the practice, it’s possible Elinium Type 95’s curse will turn Tanya into a pious believer. She needs to take care of her mental hygiene; it’s an unavoidable necessity to ensure her mind abhors the mere image of Being X. 

Slacking off on that would be the same as slacking off on breathing or abandoning thought. 

“…Hmph. So we don’t want to be dolls?” 

Tanya has an unwavering belief that human dignity lies in thinking. The human race, evolved from monkeys, feels that thought is what sets them apart from other species and makes them human. 

That’s why she can’t understand why believers assume they are blessed and abandon rationality. 

The moment a person loses the capacity to think, to question, Tanya considers them no longer human but a machine. And that is why the individual Tanya Degurechaff reveres thought, loves debate, and sneers at dogmatism from the bottom of her heart. 

So of course she laughs at the fanatics, the blind believers. She can’t stand that those dumbasses are just like the blind followers of Communism and other dogmas (essentially another type of religion) who built mountains of corpses through social experimentation—the feeling stems from her views on humanity. Thinking is sacred because trial and error is inherent to existence. When unthinking people force their dogmatism on others, she wonders how stupid the world could be. 

Being X, who is trying to make her the vanguard of that sort of dogmatism, is nothing but her sworn enemy; she can’t allow him to remain in this world. 

That said, she is still rational enough to realize that spending all her time building up her hatred is unproductive, so for the time being she’ll set that aside and push ahead with her studies. 

Tanya is ambitious, in the sense that she’s doing what she can do now with her eyes on her future. Hence the frequent library visits. She walks down the already familiar halls, exchanges salutes with the staff she knows, and heads straight for the library. 

“First Lieutenant Degurechaff, coming in.” 

She puts her hand to the library door after giving the usual notice of her arrival. Since a rank of at least first lieutenant is required for admission into the war college, she’s simply the lowest of the low. Although it is Sunday, it wouldn’t be strange for some others to have arrived ahead of her. There could be superior ranking officers inside, so she always has to conduct herself smartly. 

“Hmm?” 

Tanya’s daily efforts to extend the proper courtesies are rewarded. A soldier with a scholarly air and nearing old age looks up from a mountain of resources as she walks in. 

The insignia on his shoulder indicates he is a brigadier general and, judging from his clothing, probably an important one. The fact that one of his rank would be there digging through maps and records—well, it’s unsurprising considering the quality of the materials at the war college. Research for military strategy always ends up dependent on the war college library. When one of the higher-ups needs some data, they often visit. There are mountains of records and papers that aren’t allowed to leave the premises. If they want to browse those materials, they have to come in person. 

“Ngh— Please excuse the interruption, General.” 

Tanya chuckles to herself in her head at this one-in-a-million chance meeting. No matter the era, it never hurts to have friends in high places. And if you are trying to meet people, it’s essential to go out and increase your chances. 

That said, it’s a terrible shame that my external age is so young. It makes me hesitant to go anywhere alcohol could be employed. Obviously if such a little girl were present, anyone would have a hard time enjoying their drinks—it would defeat the point. 

On the other hand, she’s able to make a good impression by having her act so put together at such a young age. It is difficult for me to capitalize on her appearance because I have to consciously behave like a child, though. 

Children are already another universe I don’t understand, so little girls might as well be alien life-forms. She can smile in a pinch, but that is about it. 

Now that she’s blessed with an opportunity, she will not hesitate to take full advantage. 

“Oh, you can just treat me like an older alum for the moment.” 

The man who returns her salute sounds less like a soldier and more like a philosopher who would be more at home doing research. He is probably straitlaced in some sense, but as far as she can tell he seems friendlier than bad-tempered. 

“Thank you, sir. My name is Tanya Degurechaff. I’m a student here, and I was granted the rank magic first lieutenant by the Empire.” 

“I’m Brigadier General von Zettour, deputy director of the Service Corps in the General Staff Office.” 

The Service Corps in the General Staff Office! He’s one of the top dogs in the rear! I’m so lucky. 

“It’s an honor to meet you, General.” 

She’s pretty sure she can say that and mean it. After all, they have about as much clout as the guys who run General Staff Personnel. In a corporation, they’d be the ones running administrative strategy. 

The only word for this chance to meet an off-duty officer from there is lucky . 

“Hmm, Lieutenant, are you in a hurry right now?” 

“Not in particular, sir. I’m here for the purpose of self-study to acquire knowledge.” 

She manages to control herself and obediently states her purpose instead of jumping up and down. Luckily, between her need to satisfy her intellectual curiosity and errands to research laws and ordinances, she is here quite frequently, so it isn’t out of the ordinary. 

“Great. If you’ll give me a moment of your time, I’d like to get a younger person’s opinion on something. How about it?” 

“Gladly, sir, if I’m not interrupting.” 

“No, it’s fine. Relax.” 

“Yes, sir.” 

Perfect, he’s interested in me, too. It’s so much easier to talk to someone when they’re interested. This will be infinitely better than giving a presentation on personnel cutbacks to a bunch of execs who oppose the idea because they don’t understand the necessity. 

“I’ve heard a bit about you. It seems you’ve been quite busy.” 

“My reputation is undeserved, sir.” 

That agonizingly annoying nickname “White Silver” has convinced me the army needs to reconsider its taste in names, but apparently it does attract attention. 

It seems like getting some name recognition will be good for my career as a young elite, although the nail that sticks out gets hammered down. I need to keep an eye out for ways to keep my fame under control. 

“Hmm? I think everyone intends it as a fitting appraisal… Oh, but let me ask you this.” 

And apparently even false reputations can contribute to a good first impression. Even if it is just a casual whim of this brigadier general who has taken a slight interest in Tanya, he is going to ask her perspective. 

“Lieutenant, you can give me your subjective opinion. How is this war going to turn out? What’s your view?” 

Two soldiers having a conversation about the state of the war. Well, that’s a kind of military small talk. Sticking to safer topics isn’t a bad idea, according to common thinking. 

But he’s taken an interest in me. If I can give him an honest opinion, he’ll see me as motivated. Of course, the barrier to entry is having something smart to say. 

“That’s a very broad question, sir.” 

So showing that I’m both assertive and deliberate by confirming the aim of his question is critical. In the military, everyone will like you if you consult with your superior officers often and report everything. If you don’t know something, admit it and ask. That kind of attitude seems particularly useful in the army. These imperial soldier creatures have a tendency to be bizarrely obsessed with accuracy. 

Since that’s how it is, instead of trying to gain points, I’ll put effort into not losing them. You can’t get promoted just by speaking up. You need to pay attention to the minute details and make your voice heard. 

“Hmm, you’re right. Let me rephrase it. What shape do you think this war will take?” 

“My apologies, sir, but I don’t believe I’m in a position to comment.” 

And you should always stop yourself from commenting on things outside your duties. For example, human resources shouldn’t butt into sales’s business, just as sales shouldn’t butt into human resources’s. It’s important to know your place. 

“It’s all right. This isn’t an official consultation. Just tell me what you think.” 

“Then with your permission, sir…” 

I really don’t want to say anything, but refusing any further would be rude. It would be worse than anything to come off as someone too inept to have anything to say. Remaining silent and expecting him to understand would be naive—a super-dreadnought-class fantasy. 

Human beings have two ears but only one mouth. In other words, when dealing with someone who is willing to listen, one mouth is plenty. Unless you open it, your ideas have no chance of getting across. 

“I’m sure it will turn into a world war.” 

Rule number one of making a presentation: Declare estimates with confidence. And while it’s important to be creative, make sure your forecast is reliable. A presentation is meaningless if your points don’t reach your audience. 

“World war?” 

“I believe most of the major powers will become involved, so the fighting will take place on a global scale.” 

Will this be this world’s first world war? Well, there’s no mistaking that the major powers are going to have a serious fight. It’s definitely going to be big. 

In that case, perceiving it as a “world war” is only common sense. World powers will clash with world powers, seeking hegemony. Each side will fight like they mean it, for sure. So showing I’m not taking things lightly, that I’m facing reality, is more likely to work in my favor. 

“…What makes you say that?” 

“Though the Empire is an emerging state, compared to the existing powers, we boast quite an advantage.” 

It’s also important to avoid convoluted explanations. The only way to prevent pointless meetings is to thoroughly establish common understanding. 

In that sense, this brigadier general seems very smart—so much so that it’s surprisingly open-minded of him to have a conversation this serious with a first lieutenant. But then, that’s precisely why he’s worth talking to. 

“If we were to fight each nation one-on-one, we would surely come out victorious.” 

“Right. Against the Republic, we could win.” 

He said the hard part for me. “Against the Republic” can mean that it might not hold true in other cases. Since the superior officer hinted at their other potential enemies, it’s easier to continue the conversation. 

Genuinely impressed by that nuance, Tanya realizes she is perhaps talking a bit much. She even senses that in the army, where you don’t really get to choose your subordinates, they invest in their juniors more than in the corporate world. 

This perspective was impossible for me to have had when I was doing layoffs in human resources, so I should take this lesson to heart. In the army, unlike in a company, you don’t get to choose your subordinates—all you can do is educate them. 

“But actually, it’s difficult to imagine the Commonwealth and the Russy Federation simply standing by. I’m not sure about the Kingdom of Ildoa.” 

“…They shouldn’t have any direct interests in the current war.” 

And with that Tanya reconfirms what is already obvious. Yes, this is good. This is fantastic. This is what you call an intelligent conversation. It’s the type that doesn’t occur unless the person you’re talking to is interested in finding out how smart you are. This is delightful. It’s what being an adult member of society is all about. 

“Not direct interests, no. But they will be forced to confront the question of whether they will allow the birth of a dominant state or put a stop to it.” 

“A dominant state?” 

“Yes. If the Reich, situated in the center of the continent, eliminates the Republic, we will have not a relative advantage but absolute superiority.” 

I can consider this to be similar to how it was possible for imperial Germany to defeat France and the Russian Empire. Was the British Empire stupid enough to let that happen? If it had been, that island nation would be treated like a backwater about now. 

Instead, they participated in the war because they understood the severity of the situation. Won’t the great powers of this world join the battle as their national interest dictates? 

“So if we can’t get rid of the Republic quickly, in a way that doesn’t give other nations enough time to interfere, the fighting will trigger a domino effect of other countries getting involved.” 

“I see. You may be right, but isn’t the alternative that the Republic ends up the dominant state? They shouldn’t want that, either.” 

Ngh. Agh, I didn’t say enough, so he filled in for me. If I assume he’s taking my youthful appearance into consideration, I’ve been pitied. I can’t make any more mistakes. 

Hang in there. Look him straight in the eye and answer clearly. 

“I agree. That’s why I think they’ll try to make it so both the Empire and the Republic fall.” 

“You mean other countries will intervene?” 

“Yes. I imagine it will start with financial assistance to the Republic. Other conceivable methods include providing them with weapons and dispatching volunteer troops.” 

Think of the famous lend-lease 17 policy and how wars are financed. English and France won, but they were still in a precarious position by the end. Considering that, the Empire and the Republic would have their fun little war, and the natural result would be for everyone else to intervene right when the pair had exhausted each other. If they wanted to, they could even pretend to be good Samaritans about it. 

“…Aha. I’m beginning to see what you mean.” 

“Yes, I would think the general plan of the other powers would be to lend large amounts of money to the Republic and then intervene to take down both of us in the end.” 

States are honestly so evil. They take good people and turn them into members of an evil cult. We need to consider their potential for grossly warping people’s true natures. 

For example, the hateful Soviet and East German secret police caused massive harm to human nature. Behold society’s fear under the eye of the Stasi! Freedom. Give them mental freedom! It’s high time the human race realizes that individualism is the only path that will save the world. 

“And if the Empire overwhelms the Republic?” 

“It’s very likely that its national security policies would say to team up with other powers and intervene directly. Even if they can’t do that, they may not hesitate to intervene on their own.” 

The noble proposition of freedom of thought may be important, but I can’t take this intellectual conversation lightly. I have to keep up the appearance of stating well-thought-out views. 

“I see. That’s a fascinating conjecture. How do you think we should handle things?” 

“Well, I haven’t come up with a plan…” 

Actually, when I have ideas, I submit them. If I could give him one now, it could be a seed for my advancement, but unfortunately I lack the military expertise. Well, perhaps military creativity should be left to Napoleon 18 and Hannibal. As a good, peace-loving individual, there is nothing wrong with that. 

“So I would learn from history and try to make peace, and if that was impossible, I would make limiting attrition a top priority.” 

“…You mean you wouldn’t try to win? People will question your will to fight.” 

Yeah, he’s right. That was an awfully careless thing to say. In the manner of a university professor, I spoke a bit too passionately. I can’t believe I would say something that brings my will to fight into question in front of the director of the Service Corps in the General Staff, of all people. Was it really my mouth that said it? That was such a huge mistake, I want to shoot it off. 

This could hurt my career. No, I once heard that cowards get overworked on the front lines. This is very bad. Truly bad. Somehow, without letting any distress show on my face, I need to indirectly state in an utterly calm tone that that is not my intention. At the same time, I’ll probably still be at risk unless I say something kind of brave to show off my fighting spirit. 

“In a literal sense, yes, General. But I don’t mean that we shouldn’t aim for victory. It’s a problem of definitions; we must deconstruct our assumptions.” 

“And? Go on.” 

“Yes, sir. I believe that if we aren’t defeated, we should define that as an Empire victory, since our national defense plan would have worked.” 

“So in your opinion, how do we achieve victory?” 

“We carry out a thorough bloodletting and crush the enemy’s ability to continue fighting.” Tanya seemed to specifically choose words soldiers liked to hear— carry out , thorough , crush —groping for a way to speak realistically while projecting that she was full of fighting spirit. 

“You mean annihilating the enemy field army?” 

Annihilating their field army? Well that would be ideal, but it’s not an easy task. In other words, this question is a trap. In order to show him I’m not just taking a hard line because I think that’s what he wants to hear, I have to dare to disagree here. 

“That would be ideal, but quite difficult, I imagine. Perhaps we should make attrition of enemy human resources our goal and devote ourselves to positional warfare defense?” 

“Can we win that way?” 

“I don’t know. But we wouldn’t lose. And saving up enough extra energy to deliver a decisive blow at that point would increase our strategic flexibility.” 

I can’t declare we can win. But this is the best thing I can say so he doesn’t interpret my answer as saying we’ll lose. I put the words decisive blow in there as insurance. I need to keep making comments that show my motivation to sock it to the other guys. 

“Hmm, how intriguing. But what would you do if the enemy arrives at the same strategy?” 

Now. Now’s the time to be assertive. Once someone shows an interest in you, the final impression they take should be the strongest. If that’s the case, I need to make my aggression clear and gloss over the extremely inconvenient truth that I am lacking in the will to fight department. 

“Yes. Having considered that possibility, I propose switching our main strategy on the battlefield to infantry defense and mage offense.” 

“Mages may have destructive power and impact, but I don’t think they’re suitable for capturing positions.” 

“I agree; however, the objective isn’t to occupy but to eliminate enemy soldiers.” 

To put it another way, the combat maneuvers would be carried out not to extend our sovereignty over enemy land but to exhaust and eliminate enemy countrymen. We need to acknowledge the reality that in all-out war, cutting off the root of the enemy’s ability to continue fighting is the only path to victory, and we should develop measures to achieve that. 

In World War I, Germany slaughtered Russia and hit France and England hard—they were overwhelming the other countries on the tactical level. The biggest reason it eventually lost was that it ran out of strength. When in addition to France and England, they had to fight the United States, it was precisely because they knew they couldn’t win that the German General Staff gave up. 

They realized that even if their lines hadn’t broken, they could no longer continue fighting and had no choice but to accept their defeat. So they lost. There’s an important lesson to be learned from this memory. That is, how defeat looks in total war. No matter how well you compete on the lines, if your country runs out of power, you can’t continue the war. It’s not a question of mentality but the limits set by the laws of physics. 

“As such, I’m convinced our main purpose should be to exhaust enemy soldiers with tactical disruption and penetrating raids from aerial mages.” 

Honestly, I think penetrating raids are crazy talk, but as long as there’s a slim possibility that mages could succeed with them, they’re worth proposing. Besides, I won’t be the one doing them; if it’s just unreasonable blather, I can keep it up all day. 

Take a look at Tsugene! Didn’t that idiot get promoted at home for doing whatever he wanted in Manchuria and Mongolia? Or the general who forced the Battle of Imphal! They called him the best spy for the Allies, full-of-shit-guchi, brute-guchi. Or wait, was he the “I’m dying” scammer general? 

Didn’t he say he was dying and then get money in an out-of-court settlement? Mm, maybe not—I can’t remember… Well, whatever. If I can be that irresponsible, life’ll be a cakewalk. 

But unfortunately, I’m a good person. Since I haven’t abandoned that much of my humanity, I’ll draw the line at this plan, which should be doable based on my experiences so far. 

Ahh, I’m such a sensible person. I’m just a bundle of good intentions. Yeah, I am undoubtedly justice incarnate. I’m a long-suffering martyr boasting an utterly wholesome character, who seeks goodness and peace. 

“Hmm? The mage mission wouldn’t be support?” 

“In positional warfare, mages have firepower on par with artillery and agility that outstrips infantry. They’re the ideal branch for hunting enemy soldiers.” 

To be honest, mobile defense was tough. I learned very well what a pain it was to combat war junkies, for instance, when I had to fight those Named. If there is a god, he should erase that whole bunch before declaring himself. Any species that enjoys killing its own members is insane. 

In other words, there’s the end of my explanation of why Being X isn’t God. Ahh, what can I do to escape the devil? If the devil roams a godless world, we’re basically in Armageddon, right? 

“If you want to win while minimizing your own losses, then perhaps the Attritional Containment Doctrine? Mages are best for that.” 

“I see. You sure know how to sell it.” 

“My humble thanks, sir.” 

Now I should probably back off a bit. But his reaction’s not bad. He’s hunching slightly to write something on one of his documents, so it doesn’t look like he’s going to press me further. This is great. 

If I can talk my way out of things, perhaps I should consider a career as a negotiator. But my area of expertise is human resources. Going for depth gets you a better salary than breadth, but hmm. 

Maybe I should start planning my life after the war; maybe I should learn a trade. Now that I think of it, I’ll definitely have to earn some qualifications. How can I change jobs when my résumé is, “Mage with a wealth of combat experience. Can handle a fight to the death any time, any place”? Like, what kind of gang are you trying to join? 

Every era has the same issue with finding occupations for ex-soldiers. If Tanya doesn’t invest in herself now, she’ll have trouble later. It’s precisely for that reason that she’s going to the library, to learn about laws so she can earn a legal professional qualification or something similar that will keep her fed in the future. 

“So hypothetically, if you were to use mages as the linchpin of this Attritional Containment Doctrine, how many would you want?” 

…Maybe I shouldn’t be planning my life in one corner of my brain. I answer the question without really considering its aim. “I’m sure a battalion is the right size. It wouldn’t be a huge logistical burden, and it has the minimum force necessary.” 

“Interesting. Well, I’ll think about it. Young people’s opinions are always interesting.” 

“Thank you, sir.” 

Not realizing what just happened is a basic error. Normally, Tanya would definitely feel something was off and try to somehow avoid the incoming trouble. But this time she’s careless. Yes, even though carelessness causes all the most horrible errors in life. 

THE IMPERIAL CAPITAL, AT THE DESK OF THE DEPUTY DIRECTOR OF THE SERVICE CORPS IN THE GENERAL STAFF 

When in doubt, learn from the lessons of the past. 

The military man Zettour has learned so much from history that he’s criticized for being too much like a scholar, but he does it because the strategic principles of the past contain pieces that can still be applied. 

And because Brigadier General von Zettour is so familiar with history, he has a nose for recognizing indescribable yet fundamental change. He has learned from history to sense a shift in the tides. You could call it a feeling that the existing paradigm wouldn’t quite work for dealing with the national defense strategy issues the Empire is currently facing. 

He believed the teachings of history should be used as a guiding light, and they told him change could be coming. 

The difficult-to-grasp question of what will change is a distraction for most imperial soldiers. Given that most of them are expected to deal with the circumstances right in front of them, that’s no surprise. Considering the traditional way of thinking in the Imperial Army, which only cares about how well each individual carries out their missions, Zettour is certainly heretical. 

But regardless of his academic leanings, he has proven himself with outstanding achievements. The Imperial Army is open to welcoming all kinds of people as long as they can demonstrate skill as officers. 

And that’s why Zettour is respected even within the General Staff. 

The sight of him lost in thought at his desk has become a type of featured attraction at the General Staff Office, and no one thinks to interfere. The staffers who work under him are used to seeing him open up a philosophical text and sink deep into thought once his work is done. 

Ever since the war started, they have all been busy with urgent tasks, but now that both the northern and western fronts have stabilized, the lull creates some spare time, so they can finally breathe. 

None of the officers have rested since the war began, so the General Staff officers are finally given a short break as well. The younger staffers dash off in high spirits for the beer hall, where they make liberal use of their salaries because how else will they spend them? The older staffers take off as well, finally getting to spend some relaxing time with their families. 

What both groups have in common is that they take their first vacation in a while and enjoy it to the full. 

But the day they return, they find their superior officer, who clearly hasn’t slept a wink, immobile and staring feverishly at his hastily scribbled notes. The officer who remained on duty tells the puzzled staff that about half a day ago the brigadier general returned from the war college and has been scowling at his notes ever since, as if he has forgotten everything else in the world. Puzzling, indeed. 

“General von Zettour?” 

The field officers can’t bear to see him like this, but even when they try to talk to him, his bloodshot eyes only wander over the notes spread out on his desk. There isn’t any other way for him to process the shock he has received. 

At first, he thought she was just an officer with an interesting, novel idea, and that her proposal, which he had written down, was just another way of looking at things. 

As he thought more about it on his way back to the General Staff Office, he was impressed by her view that the conflict between exterior and interior lines might reach a head. 

But as he continued to ponder these ideas, he understood that his thoughts were beginning to grasp something. Then he realized—that even if he didn’t want to, he had to admit that the notes strewn across his desk contained an inconvenient truth. 

He’s shocked that she can speak so lucidly on the direction the war will take, when even the General Staff is unsure. Where did such an accurate understanding come from? As far as Zettour knew, Brigadier General von Rudersdorf was the one most sharply hinting that the tides of war would change, but even Rudersdorf didn’t seem able to see things as clearly as First Lieutenant Degurechaff had proclaimed them. 

She said that this was a world war, and that total war would be inevitable. Anyone else hearing that would say she was deluded. But he has the feeling she just put into words the changes that the Federation and the Dominion were hinting at. She fully understands the “something” that both Zettour and Rudersdorf were feeling, though they were unable to explain it. 

It’s a borderline delusional plan but strangely persuasive. 

She said it as if she’d already seen it happen. And Zettour has to agree with the analysis and understanding of the situation that provided the foundation for her conviction. 

Suddenly, he realizes that a number of staffers are eyeing him with concern. I can’t make a scene in front of my men , his usual officer values clamor, but he has received such an intellectual shock that he is still reeling from the aftereffects. 

Not in the mood to shrug it off as nothing, he lets his actual feelings slip. “It’s world war, men. Do you really think we’ll go to war against the entire world?” 

“Huh?” The lower-ranking officer’s expression says, What’s gotten into him? 

As awkward looks appear on everyone’s faces, Zettour wants to tell them he can’t believe it either, but that would be more awkward. Besides, his experience and knowledge judge that young brain’s horrific picture of the future to be a valid prediction. 

Yes. Zettour knows the words of this child—who would look more natural cheerfully laughing—can’t be laughed off. 

He heard of that officer, that…little girl, during the war college admissions process. He felt lucky to have run into her on campus, but when he tried to test her in conversation, the result was Pandora’s box. 

“Sorry. I can’t reveal the source, but I want you to consider this possibility.” 

“…It’s an awfully extreme prediction. Radical even…” 

Though he is giving orders, he understands his subordinates’ perplexity far more than he would like. Even he hadn’t considered the possibility of the entire world and the Reich plunging into war, and why should he have? 

How extreme could you get within the bounds of reason? And “radical” was exactly right. But the more he thinks about it, the more horrible the possibilities that flicker across his mind. 

Something like that could never happen. I’ll find a hole in it somewhere , he thinks. 

But, hypothetically—only hypothetically—what if…what if she were right? In that case, the Empire would have to go to war against the world, literally. 

If that happens, it wouldn’t be a bad idea to give her a battalion. If we can’t win unless we go insane, then we’ll just have to do that. 

“…The one thing I didn’t want to be when I grew up was a horrible person.” Suddenly aware of his own thoughts, Zettour is shocked. Send a child to war? That would be the worst sort of shame for a soldier. Yet he was assuming it as a given. 

Ahh…I regret being so incompetent. 

The position of a high-ranking General Staff member in the military is a specialist position. But you can’t only be a specialist. What the Imperial Army’s General Staff seeks are military specialists who are simultaneously generalists with insight into a broad range of related fields. 

Of course, at the very least, you have to understand the combat situations as well as the rear. For that reason, officers on the elite track frequently encounter transfer milestones. 

Major von Lergen, stationed in the hub of this activity—Personnel at the General Staff Office—is used to transfers. After all, from the perspective of his career, as important the role of a section chief in Personnel is, it’s only a milestone on the way to his next position. 

In the Imperial War College Admissions Committee meeting, he showed himself to be keeping an eye on multiple departments, and that was assessed favorably in the General Staff Office—although it was a valuation of his familiarity with other departments as a generalist, not his skepticism of the candidate, which was what he was hoping they would consider. 

In any case, you can never have too many skilled generalists in a war. 

Before long, he’s promoted to lieutenant colonel. And to Lieutenant Colonel von Lergen, who has risen at a quicker pace than usual, they offer a position as a high-ranking staff officer in the Operations Division of the General Staff. 

Although his role isn’t specified, a position under a high-ranking officer where he would get to be involved in the drafting of various overarching plans is proof of the army’s high opinion of him. And right upon reporting for duty, the lieutenant colonel would get a taste of the traditional slave driving. 

The Operations Division is a body at the center of the army within the General Staff. The General Staff building stands in a quiet, prime location in the imperial capital. Its exterior tranquility, appropriate to its accumulated history, belies its awfully hectic interior. 

“Congratulations on your promotion, Colonel von Lergen. We’re glad to have you.” 

“Thank you, General von Rudersdorf.” 

“Well, we’re going to work you like a horse, you know. No matter how many people we get, it’s never enough. Take a seat.” 

Felicitations upon his arrival and promotion. He has taken his orders; gathered up his things; and with his bag in hand, entered Operations, where he is met by the deputy director of the division, General von Rudersdorf, himself. Despite the long strings of hardworking days familiar to every General Staff officer, the general grins energetically and urges him to take a seat so they won’t waste time. 

The moment Lergen sits down, Rudersdorf launches into the topic at hand, as if they really have not a moment to lose. 

“Okay, Colonel. This is sudden, but I’d like you to go straight to the northern front. Here are your orders.” 

Though he knows of the general’s reputation for quick decisions, even Lergen doesn’t expect to be dispatched immediately upon reporting for duty. 

“As you know, the strategic confusion has had serious repercussions on the way things are going up there.” 

But Lergen wears the staff braid, too. It isn’t just a decoration. He instantly adapts his mind-set to the situation and refocuses. In almost no time, he’s listening closely to his superior, leaving no word unnoted. 

“Well, it’s no wonder given we’re suddenly performing a large-scale mobilization for an offensive on a front where we weren’t planning on attacking.” 

Imperial Army is paying a steep price for misjudging the situation. On top of tensions in the west, the massive unexpected deployments of the Great Army are having dire consequences. 

It’s easy to imagine the difficulties the armies in all theaters are facing as a result. 

The strength of interior lines strategy is movement across domestic territory, but it can’t be pulled off without extensive preparation. If conditions deteriorate, they can’t avoid chaos. 

“There’s nothing so atrocious and wasteful for a nation than people who aren’t fulfilling their duties getting paid in positions they aren’t suited for. Naturally, we’ve reshuffled.” 

As a result, most of the General Staff members who advocated for one big push have been dismissed or demoted. Of course, the ones who did their duty without any gross errors didn’t get it quite so bad, but the current mood is definitely favorable for promoting promising talents. 

It can be said that Lergen himself, considering his rapid advancement and important post in the General Staff, is one of those who is benefiting from the situation. 

“It’s ironic that we’re shorthanded, but it does mean we can give a promising officer like you somewhere to flex your muscles. That’s why we’re having you go up north.” 

“So my orders are to gain an understanding of the situation?” 

All things considered, the reason a General Staff member from Operations would be sent to the north would be inspection. Even a new staffer can understand that orders like this under these circumstances mean the higher-ups want data for long-term planning. 

And it’s all according to the basic strategy the Empire traditionally keeps in mind—of breaking through two fronts to the best of their ability. That is, one of the fronts will surely need to be prioritized, and the higher-ups probably want information to decide which one. 

“Exactly. The western front has stabilized, but we still don’t want to be fighting on two fronts for too long.” 

“So we need to decide which one to settle?” 

“Exactly. After you see what’s happening up north, go make observations in the west.” The general nods as if to say, Very well . 

As far as Lergen can tell, his response was satisfactory. “Yes, sir. I’ll go immediately to the north.” 

High-ranking staffers keep a bag packed with a change of clothes next to their desk so they can be ready to follow orders at any time. 

Lergen learned from senior officers, so when he takes his orders, he grabs the bag he faithfully packed according to tradition and walks out the Operations Division door. Of course, he never imagined that his preparations would come in handy so soon. 

“Good. Oh, and, Colonel. Take a look at this on your way up.” 

“What is it?” 

“A paper Zettour passed along. It’s worth a read.” 

“Understood. Then if you’ll excuse me, sir, I’ll be going.” 

Lieutenant Colonel von Lergen leaves straight from there, taking a military vehicle to the station. He boards a train bound for the north, which departs not too much later. He sits in the first-class compartment reserved for high-ranking soldiers, takes out the paper, and reads the title: “Predictions on the Shape and Direction of the Current War.” 

For a moment, he remembers the Deputy Director of the Service Corps Brigadier General von Zettour’s scholarly face, and the title brings back fond memories of the texts accompanying lectures on the history of war. Zettour’s habit of deep thought is famous enough that Lergen has heard of it. 

So perhaps it makes an intriguing point, and that’s why General von Rudersdorf read it and recommended it to me. That is Lergen’s interpretation, but as he reads, his eyes glaze over. 

Not only that. As he reads further, his expression grows confused. It’s the emotional disturbance of fear and astonishment. He can’t help his shock, as if he has just been whacked in the head. 

“What…is this?” 

Is this…? “The Current War”? Wait, is this kind of war even possible? his mind murmurs, profoundly doubtful. 

…It is. The answer comes from his professional consciousness. 

As far as Lergen knows, Zettour isn’t the type of officer to go around shouting wild nonsense. On the contrary, he is rather restrained. It’s the General Staff’s common view that reality should be analyzed and understood. That scholarly yet realistic officer is warning them of a world that is, simply put, one of global war. Outrageous. How happy he would be if he could just laugh it off. 

But Lergen, head in his hands, moaning in spite of himself, is forced to confront reality. These kinds of strategy papers always entail furious debate; as a member of the General Staff, he’s aware what a dilemma exterior lines versus interior lines is. 

Naturally, he understands how world war is possible if the parties faced with the Empire’s interior lines strategy were to discuss how to beat it. 

“In that case…this is saying that the current war will inevitably develop into a global conflict?” 

The Empire would be under siege. The problem of its fragile national defense environment, stemming from political factors, gives those in charge of it a never-ending headache. It’s why they are still concerned about national defense despite having a military superior to those of nearby powers. 

But the countries encircling the Empire also have the security issue of having such a powerful neighbor. 

Naturally, the Empire anticipated them to construct a united front, employing an exterior lines siege strategy with the aim of dividing the Empire’s forces and tipping the power balance. 

Those loose chains are the thing threatening the Empire. In order to crush the siege slowly strangling them, it has turned to interior lines strategy. 

It also cut off its diplomacy efforts—agreements such as its alliance with the Kingdom of Ildoa and its nonaggression pact with the Russy Federation—long ago. Normally in a situation like this, most countries should have been hesitant to negotiate, fearing a local flare-up. 

But is that really the case? If the Entente Alliance were to drop out, François, with an active conflict zone, would be forced to resist the Empire’s pressure on its own. 

The question of whether the cunning Commonwealth would obediently ally with François is another that can’t be answered easily. To maintain the balance of power, it would probably join in support, but it is entirely possible they might aim to take both the François Republic and the Empire down at the last moment. 

Once that was pointed out for him, he can’t deny the possibility that all the other sparks blazed up in a chain reaction. 

Russy and François are allies, historically, but a rift has grown between them over communism. The Empire seized that opening to make their nonaggression pact with the Russy Federation. From the François point of view, that pact means it has to count on the Entente Alliance to restrain the Empire with a second front. 

And that’s why the Empire is stuck fighting both the Entente Alliance and the Republic. And if, fatally, the fall of both the Republic and the Empire is the only outcome of this war the other powers will accept…? It’s possible that the one thing they won’t allow is a hegemonic state overwhelming all the others. 

With his knowledge and experience, Lergen can hear the gates of world war opening. It’s possible. 

And then, when we wage war against the world… The concept of “total war” comes naturally to mind, along with something else—something unfathomable but snickering like a witch. 

Total war: when a country finds it necessary to mobilize all of its power to accomplish their goals in battle. 

The desire to refute the paper suddenly wells up inside him, but the inference it makes is based on the truth. 

The nature of war will fundamentally change; ammunition and fuel consumption will drastically increase. The things he saw and heard at the General Staff Office backed all of that up. It’s undoubtedly the truth—especially considering the Western Army Group has already gone over the projected weapons and ammunition usage in a head-on clash against another power. 

A striking amount of combat casualties? Yeah, that’s also right. I heard our recruiting speed is already hitting a wall. We’re losing so many more men than expected that the peacetime recruitment plan is already failing. 

We would have to fight under the assumption that we will expend large numbers of weapons and soldiers. There would be vast consumption of personnel and waste of matériel on a scale that could destroy the national economy. Yes, consumption of human lives. Not even “sacrifice” but simple, numerical “consumption.” Will this insane struggle go on until one side or the other collapses under the burden? 

He’s suggesting a type of war in which people and things are consumed until you go completely bankrupt, plus the idea that this would be taking place on a global scale? Normally, such a prediction would be considered delusional. 

If I agree with this, what awaits us is a horrifying world where people will be numbers—disposable products. But this argument has a lot of parts that seem plausible. Still, when I think about what it would mean to accept it… 

No. Of course, it’s possible to criticize both the total war and world war theories. But for some reason this still feels realistic. I want to deny it, but there is something in here that is undeniable. 

But why? Why can’t I deny it? I have this bizarre sensation sticking in my throat. 

“…What is this weird feeling?” 

I should be somehow familiar with both total war and world war. Er, there’s no way I could be familiar with awful things like that, but I definitely have some memory of them. It’s like I have a memory in some other sense… 

“Somewhere, I—no, I’m…forgetting something? No, something is bothering me.” 

Did I see it in some other paper? No, that’s not it. I just now heard the words total war and world war for the first time. I just learned them. 

Then are there some similar concepts? I don’t remember anything like that. The closest thing was…yes, something I read in an SF novel. So is it derived from some experience I’ve had? I barely have any frontline experience, though… 

I was in the field up until I reached first lieutenant, and after I was stationed in the Commonwealth as a military attaché, I’ve been serving in the rear. Did I hear something in the Commonwealth? I wrote a mountain of reports while I was there. I remember them all very well, but I don’t recall any concepts like those… Am I overthinking this? I’m sure I’ve seen some part of this before, though… 

Even in the middle of a war—no, precisely because it is wartime, capable staff are a must-have. That’s why money is being poured like water into staffer education. As one of the students benefiting from that funding, First Lieutenant Tanya Degurechaff is on the traditional staff trip as part of her military education. 

Mainen is a well-known hot springs getaway. Though its bathing district has made it famous as a health resort since ancient times, it’s located right next to a harsh mountain region that always has a coat of snow. On one of the nearest mountains overlooking the peaceful town, Tanya is among the war college students getting put through the mill. 

She is the only female and the only child who made it through the admissions process. Honestly, she doesn’t sense as much subjectively, but as a biological fact, it can’t be denied. But in the far-from-gender-free world of “ladies first,” Tanya with her outwardly girlish appearance is, albeit only relatively, blessed compared to the other students. 

A simple example is when they spent the night in a village on their hike. The men not only slept in a pile, but they were forced to dig trenches to do it in. Fearing the army’s reputation, the superior officer allowed only Tanya to borrow a bed. She was also allowed to use the local army facilities. 

Basically, apart from the mage branch, the army is a man’s world. Actually, even most of the mages are men. Of course, there are rules and regulations about the treatment of women officers. And naturally, the dense army regulations you would expect from the Empire include provisions on how women soldiers are expected to behave. 

That said, most of the few women soldiers who existed before mages were from the imperial family. Drafted under that assumption, the regulations envision an imperial princess and her attendants rendering only nominal service, so they feel outrageously out of date. As you might imagine, the rules for mages on the front lines, where the members of the imperial family would never be sent, have been overhauled in recent years to make them more practical in combat situations. The regulations for treatment of women officers in the rear, however, still read much like an old-fashioned guide to manners, since most of the women in those positions were nobles or imperials. 

And since so few female officers continue on to the war college to begin with, no one has bothered to update the war college rulebook—the regulations drawn up for imperial family women remain wholly intact. Even if they’re so outdated you want to ask how many decades or even centuries ago they were written, any rule in the Empire that hasn’t been amended or abolished is enforceable. Maybe it could be counted as an adverse effect of bureaucracy, but the law in the Empire is to follow the rules that exist, even if they privilege certain people. For that reason, they’ve practically rolled out a red carpet for Tanya on this trip. 

The purpose of the trip is simple: endurance training under extreme conditions that dull the ability to think. Tanya knows that most of the operations that staffers running on fumes come up with are Tsugene-esque nuclear land mines. So it makes no sense to the instructors to treat First Lieutenant Degurechaff like a woman when she’s strong enough and has such a wealth of combat experience. And there are no stipulations in the now classical regulations concerning women war college students about how to treat magic officers. In other words, they can’t ignore “Women officers should be provided with appropriate accommodations,” but if there’s no rule stating, “Women mage officers should not be made to carry heavy loads,” they can weigh her down just as much as the others. 

For that reason, since mages can use support formulas, she was ordered to attend in full gear with a dummy heavy machine gun. Essentially, go climb a mountain in your normal full gear plus a nearly fifty-kilogram machine gun, to boot. If Tanya suppresses the urge to cry child abuse, there’s no legal issue with it. 

Of course, there’s no hiking trail—they’re in the region where the alpine troops train. You can only conclude that the one who designed this system was a sadist. Even the lightly equipped alpine infantry is groaning about this uphill trek, but the students are being made to do it in full gear. 

But teleologically, it isn’t a mistake. 

Still, wouldn’t it be better to not completely exhaust the staff? she can’t help but think. 

“Viktor, say an enemy built a defensive firing position on that hill. You’re ordered to make a swift advance on them with a battalion.” 

But the education is thorough. The tired officers are mercilessly quizzed about hypothetical combat orders. 

“Propose a strategy.” 

A firing position on that hill? If it was up there, we wouldn’t be able to break through or go around, would we? We’d either have to make a dejected retreat or use the heavy artillery to pummel them from a distance. Or maybe have mages charge in. 

“It would be difficult to break through. In order to move swiftly forward, I propose going around.” 

But apparently the impossibility of a breakthrough is as far as First Lieutenant Viktor’s weary brain can get. He will employ the textbook detour strategy. Well, it’s true that from the looks of it we would never succeed… 

That said, I can’t imagine going around working any better. There’s not very much cover, and the enemy is on higher ground. Before you could “move swiftly forward,” you’d be shot like sitting ducks. 

“Then try it, if you can.” 

“Huh?” 

“If you think you can get around them in this steep terrain, I’d like to see you try it, dipshit! I’m telling you to look at the topography!” 

Naturally, the instructor’s angry shout sounds tough, but Tanya doesn’t have time to savor the sweetness of another’s mistake. 

“Degurechaff, what would you do?” 

Damn it! You owe me, Lieutenant Viktor! If you had just answered properly, no one would have gotten yelled at. She wants to glare at him, but as long as he’s at a loss, the heat’s on him. Even if Viktor is useless, he’s a good lightning rod. I should use him like that, not tear him down. Right now I need to prioritize getting through this situation. 

“Do we happen to have heavy artillery support, sir?” 

It’s important to get a basic handle on things. I can’t imagine an infantry battalion would be bringing infantry guns into this mountainous region, but if the division has its own artillery, we could expect support. Or the corps artillery would be fine, but knowing whether we have support or not is crucial…although I’m sure he wants us to think about what we would do if we didn’t have any. 

Still, if I don’t show that I’m trying to confirm what cards are in my hand, he’ll yell at me, “Why didn’t you consider heavy artillery support?!” for sure. I get it, but it’s stupid. 

“We’ll say you don’t!” 

“My first idea is to make a large retreat and then maneuver around along a different ridgeline.” 

Then the best thing to do is avoid unnecessary casualties. Luckily, depending on the ridgeline, it won’t even take any longer than any other tactic. More importantly, there’s no need to launch a reckless attack. Ordering a charge against a position with a good field of fire is not only reckless but cruel. 

Can guys like that get jobs in the General Staff? All I can say is I hope not. In any case, the only way to beat firepower with flesh is by having more soldiers than bullets… 

“And if you don’t have that kind of time?” 

“…My second idea is to employ skirmish tactics with mages and infantry. The mages can take out the emplacement and the infantry can back them up.” 

Aerial mages could definitely capture the position. We’d have been ready to take casualties, but it would be much better than trying to break through with infantry alone. I mean, I’m an aerial mage. If you’re asking me what I would do if I were in command, then it’s not unreasonable for me to have mages with my infantry battalion. 

Well, maybe my answer was a little sneaky, but… 

“That’s fine. Now how would you capture the position if you only had infantry?” 

“Huh? ‘Capture’ it with only infantry, sir?” 

…Did he trap me? Before Tanya knows it, he’s ordering her to win with nothing but infantry. 

“Yes. I’ll give you a minute. If you don’t want to sleep outside tonight, better answer quick.” 

Now he’s just talking nonsense. If it were possible to capture positions with infantry, we wouldn’t be spending all this time worrying about positional warfare. You’re seriously telling me to take the hill under these conditions? 

With no engineers? No mages? Are you just telling me to do this Three Human Bullets–style? I don’t even have to think about it. 

“Sir, I think capturing it would be impossible.” 

For a second, all of her classmates’ expressions change. Most of them were mulling over the problem, and the word impossible is a shock. After all, that word could put the instructor in a bad mood. It’s a comment that could lower Tanya’s academic standing. 

I’ve got a bad feeling. Why couldn’t he have picked on Captain Uger or one of those guys? I want to put my head in my hands and moan about my bad luck, but I can’t because my hands are full of heavy machine gun. 

“What? What do you mean?” 

Like a certain Empire of the Sun, our army has a reputation for bayonet charges, and if the opponent’s interdiction fire is weak, maybe something could be accomplished with them. But rushing a Republican Army defensive position with bayonets would just be kicking a hornet’s nest. A night assault is conceivable, but a mission on battalion scale in the dark mountains could end with us all getting killed. If we think that far and still can’t calculate a decent chance of success, the answer is that it’s impossible. 

“What is a staff member? Going back to basics and considering my duties and obligations, I believe capturing the hill is impossible.” 

She makes sure she has some remarks ready to shift responsibility. People learn from mistakes. She isn’t about to repeat her error of talking too much to the brigadier general in the reading room. She will make impossibility a factor of her duty, not her lack of fighting spirit. 

“A staff member’s duty is to pursue the best possible plan.” 

In other words, according to the General Staff, capturing that emplacement is impossible. It can’t be done. That’s what I’m saying, anyhow. Of course, a staff member has to come up with operations that will win. But there are any number of obligations that can be used as excuses. 

“But piling up casualties in vain would be the most abhorrent thing I could do.” 

If he shouts at me that we prioritize victory over soldiers’ lives, I won’t know what to say, but at least I’ve done everything I can to avoid looking like I have no fighting spirit. In the academy, we were told over and over—and, for some reason, over again—to love our troops. 

Weirdly, now that I think of it, I feel like they emphasized this the most when talking to me. It would be a shame if it was because they thought I didn’t understand that we have to educate our subordinates since we can’t choose them. 

Anyhow, I have my excuse. My cause is just enough. I can stand tall this time and say what I think. 

“In light of that, I would say that in this case, attacking the hill should be avoided.” 

The instructor turns a glare on her, trying to figure out how serious she is. I have zero intention of screwing around. Any businessman can stare back with that look in his eyes. The only other thing you need is the nerve to not back down under the intense gazes of soldiers and the like. 

In other words, being used to it is half of the battle. The other half is having a heart that believes in inner freedom. 

“All right. I’ll make a note of it. Okay, we march!” 

Ack, so he’s going to make a note of it after all? I guess soldiers don’t like the way businessmen think. Ahh, what should I do? 

I want to believe I faked him out okay, but I have the feeling getting noted isn’t a good thing…