Youjo Senki - Volume 10 - Chapter 5

[chapter] V Imperial Door Knocker

AUGUST 15, UNIFIED YEAR 1927, RANDOM HOTEL LOUNGE IN THE COMMONWEALTH CAPITAL

If there was a secret to ruling the world, then it was definitely in tea.

Lieutenant Colonel Drake believed this to be an immutable truth. It was self-evident to any member of the Commonwealth military.

This cup of tea was the starting point of his nation’s bid to build a global empire.

It seemed a little silly, but anyone who laughed at the thought lacked an understanding of the way the world worked. After all, the Commonwealth ruled the planet through its control over the distribution of goods.

They created and controlled the market for tea, then supplied it to the rest of the world.

In order for this to be possible, they needed a strong navy to protect the waterways they used for shipping, which was the foundation of their industry.

The tea leaves were produced in a faraway land before eventually reaching their destinations via ship.

The shipping began with tea clippers, but these would later be replaced by steamboats. The sun never set on the shipping lanes owned by this great power. Their dominance in maritime shipping was what guaranteed their superiority over the continental nations limited by their reliance on land-based transportation. The people of the Commonwealth traversed the sea shrouded with the fragrance of tea leaves.

To have a strong navy was to gain control over a free and open sea. In other words, a maritime nation was worthy of claiming hegemony over the world.

This was why, after such a long absence from the homeland, what Lieutenant Colonel Drake experienced in the hotel’s tea lounge that day shook him to his very core.

Teatime in the Commonwealth was the essence of what it meant to be home.

The gentleman intended to sit down at his table—a heritage piece of furniture in this magnificent historic hotel—and enjoy a cup of tea served in the finest porcelain.

But he didn’t even need to take a sip before his plan fell apart.

As every Commonwealth citizen knew, the smell of tea was like the fragrance of a blossoming flower.

It was the smell of culture.

However, the aroma that normally evoked joy and excitement wasn’t what emanated from his teacup. While its color somewhat resembled that of tea, it only made the experience all the more miserable.

It was almost comparable to—no, it was objectively worse than the cheap tea served in the Federation military camps.

They were served tea produced in the neutral Unified States there. Tea that was mass-produced and sold in cans. Drake was absolutely baffled that such a tea could taste better than what one of the finest tea lounges in his home country could muster.

This is unbelievable.

A waitress seemed to notice Drake shaking his head in disbelief and walked over with a tray of scones for him.

“Is there a problem, Lieutenant Colonel?” the waitress asked with a smiling face, forcing him to share his thoughts.

“As much as it pains me to say this, the tea here tastes absolutely horrendous. Were this my first time here, I’d ask to see the manager.” He knew this hotel and its quality. Had he not, though, he may have thought they were playing some kind of joke on him at first. “I can’t believe you’re serving this… I don’t believe I’ve seen you here before, either. What happened to all the waiters?”

“They’re either in the trenches or at sea or friends of yours. If you have an issue with our tea, you can take it up with the Imperial Navy.”

“Things are tough here, too, then, eh? Bother… Well, I’ll help myself to one of those.”

He made some small talk with the waitress while reaching for one of the scones she had brought over on a tray.

It was dry, and the taste didn’t even resemble wheat.

He swallowed his sigh and reached for some butter, which he could also tell was a substitute. He added some jam in hopes of salvaging the taste, but that was stale as well. It lacked sugar, and the quality of the fruit wasn’t great, either. It almost looked like a fruit compote…

“…Well, the jam and butter aren’t much better, either. They’re both cheap knockoffs.”

This was the one thing I had looked forward to. Drake held back his complaints and washed down the scone with the lukewarm drink they called tea.

It was teatime only in appearance.

Which perfectly explained why there weren’t many patrons despite it being the best time of the day for tea. He tried not to disparage everything, though. It was wartime, and the hotel was doing its best with what it had.

That said, no one enjoyed filling themselves up with fake goods.

Drake tried to take his mind off things by reading the newspaper. Right as he worked up the courage to try and finish the rest of his scone, an old man walked up to him.

“Mr. Johnson?”

“Hello, Lieutenant Colonel Drake. How’s your recovery coming along?”

“Almost as good as new, as you can see. And thankfully so. How else would I enjoy everything the home country has to offer without the use of my arm? This sure tastes good.”

The old man nodded in understanding while staring at Drake. It had occurred to Drake once before when he met Mr. Johnson on the eastern front, but he could never really tell what this man was thinking.

It was as if he was always using an abacus in his mind, making calculations while he made unreasonable demands with a big smile.

“I’m assuming…you have some free time, Lieutenant Colonel. If you have a moment to spare, would you mind entertaining me for a bit?”

“Excuse me?”

“Are you one for exorcising ghosts?”

“I used to pretend to do that all the time when I was a child. Well, it was mostly just fooling around.”

He felt nostalgic as he remembered the good old days when he used to swing a branch to fight fairies and goblins.

It was all pretend, but it seemed so real to him when he was younger.

It was just the sort of thing people did in their youth. As embarrassing as it was to think about, these memories warmed Drake’s heart. He found himself wondering if perhaps he had forgotten about these memories in the confines of his military dorm.

“That’s good to hear. In that case, I’d like for you to bring out your inner child again. Do you think you could do that for me?”

“This is an order we’re talking about. I’m going to have to do it either way, aren’t I? So let’s hear it. You need me to kill a ghost for you?”

“It’s the Devil of the Rhine.”

The old man’s casual response made Lieutenant Colonel Drake choke on the tealike substance he had been drinking.

“What?”

He immediately responded with a mix of surprise and coughing before the man struck him with another bomb.

“The little phantom you saw on the eastern front. A little birdie in the Empire tells me…that ghost will be visiting us soon.”

“Mr. Johnson, I’m sorry to ask, but is this true?”

“It is, I assure you.” With a smile on his face but no joy in his eyes, the intelligence agent began to speak with a jovial tone. “We have complete trust in our sources. We’re still doing background… The ghosts that have been showing up at night the past few days and attacking the channel are reported to be the Devil of the Rhine.”

Intelligence believed that the attacks were so the Krauts could break through the Commonwealth’s palisades. That they had crossed the wide sea for a surprise attack.

“You can’t be serious?”

Though a casual-sounding response, there was real anger hidden within his words. The old man seemed to be in a very bad mood. However, as a military officer, Lieutenant Colonel Drake had a few choice words for an old man who talked about secrets in such a place.

“You mean to tell me those damn Krauts will put down even a single leather boot on Commonwealth land? That’s some shocking news to take in, especially in a hotel lounge like this.”

“Well, this is our land.”

The old man chuckled. He was hinting at something by mentioning land.

“Looks like you’ve learned a thing or two during your time in the Federation. Being cautious of your surroundings is a good thing. I’m glad you were able to learn something from those Commies. Here’s a little more advice for you.”

Mr. Johnson flashed a dastardly grin. It contained all the backhanded nastiness of the John Bull spirit.

“Scarcity and war go hand in hand. And yet, take a look at this hotel. As imperfect as it may be, it’s still operating. Always remember that there are strings attached to the intelligence we provide.”

He gave Drake a small wink, telling him that this was the area that had been “cleaned up,” so to speak.

“…You’re making me worried about the Intelligence Service’s future. I thought the scotch you prepared for me as payment for fighting in a faraway land was fairly decent, but have you considered using some of that budget here at home?”

“Even if His Majesty or the Lord himself were to allow such a thing, the bureaucrats never would. They’re as strict as they come.”

This was another contradiction. A career bureaucrat of the treasury, someone thoroughly loyal to His Majesty, would frown when they asked, Why is the cost of the department that serves only to issue foreign visas costing the country so much money during a time of war when people aren’t entering the country?

It should be evident to them as well that this was the budget allocated to the Intelligence Service. They likely knew that the visa department of the Foreign Office was only there for this purpose. Still, this didn’t change the fact that the treasury officials worked for the treasury and that sadly they still required a justification for expenditures.

Specifically, it needs to be a justification that could be explained to opposing members of parliament loyal to His Majesty.

“The patriotic members of parliament we’re so blessed to have… They just love to bandy about phrases like wasteful bureaucracy and sabotaging wartime efforts.”

Their patriotism was what made them denounce waste. Denouncing waste and the laziness of the bureaucratic organization was likely the pride and joy of the members of parliament. This was fine for the Commonwealth as a nation…but was a big problem for the Intelligence Service to get caught up in the cross fire.

As ridiculous as it seemed, the Commonwealth Intelligence Service was in the middle of a purely political fight with the treasury. While the agency technically didn’t exist…the money it spent was still procured and budgeted through public channels…which meant they got to enjoy the luxury of dealing with public officials.

It was also why Mr. Johnson emitted another large sigh before continuing.

“This is the information we managed to obtain with what little budget we have. I want you to use it and knock that little devil out of the sky before the Empire kicks our country to the curb with their military-issue boots.”

“Excuse me, but do you have a timetable of when the Devil of the Rhine will make another appearance?”

“General Habergram believes so. I know you’re taking a break before you head back to the east, but such is the nature of war. Between you and me, I haven’t been able to take time off in for as long as I can remember.”

The old man grumbled in a bid for sympathy. Though it was likely just a part of his act as an intelligence agent, there was a hint of genuine grief behind his request for Drake to do this for him.

“The higher-ups are growing impatient, and we want to offer them something concrete. I hope you can produce results.”

“Of course, sir. Orders are orders.”

“Good. You’ll be sent out to protect a brigade that will intercept the devil’s battalion.”

Lieutenant Colonel Drake’s expression tightened a bit. He says that like it’s easy… They were orders, so he’d follow them, but he couldn’t help but question their significance.

“Pardon me, but will I be acting alone?”

“No, no. Of course not. Considering the objective, you’ll be sent with some of the more powerful members of your old marine mage unit.”

Knowing a strong company was prepared for him, Drake was now sure that this job was one he couldn’t fail.

“They’re the best of the best, so I think you’ll do well.”

“I’ll do what I can. Just make sure the devil shows up.”

“Of course! I promise we won’t hold it against you if it doesn’t.”

AUGUST 16, UNIFIED YEAR 1927, COMMONWEALTH MAINLAND

Things moved very quickly after that meeting. A sign that the Intelligence Service was very serious about this. Bureaucratic organizations were ruled by inertia. For them to act this quickly meant that there was immense pressure building behind the scenes.

“…Who knew they could be this diligent.”

Things happened so quickly that Lieutenant Colonel Drake expressed his surprise out loud without realizing it.

The gears on the war machine moved quickly once they’d been given a bit of oil, and Drake’s orders, along with his temporary assignment, fell right to his feet. As difficult as it should have been for them to give orders to the command officer of the multinational volunteer unit, the Intelligence Service was able to part the seas and move mountains to make it happen.

Just one day after his teatime with Mr. Johnson, Drake was picked up by a car and brought to meet the commanding officer of the interception brigade he would be joining.

Evidently, they were planning an ambush that would involve the Home Fleet. It was a bold move that risked blowing the anonymity of their contact in the Empire, but numbers were a good thing to have in battle.

The same went for Drake; he was going to be attached to a company of familiar marine mages. Although Brigade Commander Ballmer would go on to tell him a tidbit of less-than-ideal information about his brigade over a cup of tea.

Apparently, it was mostly made up of fresh recruits. They were still fledglings when it came to the sea.

“Seems we’re both at the mercy of the politicians. I’ll tell you what, Lieutenant Colonel, they’re not too different from the multinational volunteer unit. I felt sorry for you when I heard what you were dealing with, only to suddenly find myself in the same position.”

“It must be tough working for the palace, sir.”

“I suppose it’s the price I must pay to be called general. The day will come when it happens to you as well if you stay in the armed forces long enough.”

They indulged in some witty banter to make sure that they were both gentlemen who shared the John Bull spirit. It was best to learn about a person’s character before going into combat with them.

There definitely could be worse places to be stationed, Drake thought.

Speaking the same language always made things move faster, especially for specialists. The commander’s summation of his brigade’s strength gave Drake a newfound sense of danger.

These were new recruits he would be dealing with, after all. Sure, there were a lot of them, but he had serious doubts about their quality.

Then again, with a unit of this size, it was possible quantity could make up for quality. As long as the Home Fleet kept the enemy’s naval forces in check, it should be more than enough for them to scatter enemy air support.

The problem was who would be supporting their enemy from the sky. Both Commander Ballmer and Drake feared the Named unit more than anything else

“I want to hear what you think about the Devil of the Rhine. Is that mage really as strong as they say?”

“Well, they don’t call that monster Rusted Silver for nothing. I’m grateful to the gods that I came away alive, but I also curse them for sending me back into that devil’s reach.”

“…That’s no good. If what you say is true, this might be too much for us to handle. Never thought I’d have to send kids to fight the Imperial Army.”

“I actually recently met the devil in the east. I still have my doubts we’ll see anything here.”

The commander gave a small chuckle at Drake’s words. He doesn’t say it, but the tired look on his face more than conveyed his hope that Drake was right.

They exchanged salutes, and Drake received a bottle of alcohol instead of the usual cigarettes before being guided by Commander Ballmer’s adjutant to meet the company he’d be flying with.

Though maybe meet wasn’t the best way to put it, given how Drake already knew pretty much the entire company. It very well could’ve been that they took the time to gather up veterans from his old marine mage battalion for him.

“Boys!”

“Lieutenant Colonel.”

They caught up with some idle chitchat, and Drake found out that most of them were posted to various places on a provisional basis, ready to move wherever their country needed them for missions like this.

Drake knew that once he was finished here, he’d be sent back east as a multinational volunteer. He found himself wondering if there was a way to bring some of these men back with him. While he wasn’t one to count his chickens before they hatched, his job in the east would certainly be much easier with these old bags of bones at his side!

Another thought crossed his mind… Could deploying such elite soldiers be a sign that the higher-ups truly believed there was a good chance of the Devil of the Rhine making an appearance?

“Still, will that monster really show up?”

He couldn’t shake the idea that the Devil of the Rhine was actually in the east, busy chasing Colonel Mikel around.

Had the intelligence community placed their full trust in their friend from the Empire—their spy—and mobilized everything in hopes of intercepting the target? It just seemed too good to be true. Drake couldn’t wrap his head around the idea of the whole thing.

It seemed so surreal that a mage brigade and the Home Fleet would go so far to prepare for the so-called day of the attack.

What’s worse was that in order to intercept the enemies, they were operating around the clock for maximum readiness. It was enough to make one question their sanity. Drake spent his time picturing what would happen after the whole thing flopped—how he and a couple of the boys would laugh their country’s big mistake off at some pub.

Sadly, thinking about this got old around the three-day mark.

Be that as it may, sometimes fact truly could be stranger than fiction. On the last day of August…they finally received word of the guest they were expecting.

The first sign was the noisiness of the radio airwaves. Dispatch was much more active than usual; it was clear something was going on.

By the time Lieutenant Colonel Drake noticed it, the battle would already have begun. “Looks like the day of reckoning came at the end of the month this time, too,” he grumbled to himself and gripped his weapon, and that was when command sent a transmission that explained the situation.

“Daniel 01 to all units. Our submarines have spotted an enemy! It’s the Empire’s forces. Their fleet is coming!”

Drake felt puzzled the moment he heard Commander’s Ballmer’s message… Was the spy’s intel really on the mark? He even felt surprised.

Delving too deeply in information warfare made one begin to doubt everyone. Was there really a spy? Or was it all a ruse to feed the Commonwealth false information?

He decided it was better not to think about it for the sake of his mental health.

All he had to do was his job, and he would do it his way. Either way, he knew that General Habergram had made a mistake about one thing.

He still fully believed that the Devil of the Rhine was in the east. Nothing could possibly change his mind about this. That mage was in the east, terrorizing those poor, poor Federation soldiers.

Though he knew he would probably have to face the devil again once he headed back east himself… Little did he know that all his thoughts on the subject were about to fly out the window.

“Hmm?”

There was a faint mana signal. A peculiar tension filled the air.

The same kind he felt in the east.

…It was a signal he’d never forget—Rusted Silver’s.

“God damn it all. And here I thought I had a guardian angel looking out for me.”

Was his angel out to get him? This level of negligence was hard to forgive during a war. Lieutenant Colonel Drake wanted to arrest his guardian angel for desertion in the face of the enemy. He rubbed the back of his neck and shook his head before addressing his troops.

“Number ten, men. Get ready for a bloodbath.”

This signal…there should have been a limit to how terrifying signals could be. There was no way for him to mistake it for any other. He could identify her signal even in his sleep.

As much as he didn’t want to believe it, nothing in this world was guaranteed.

“Alert Commander Ballmer this second. Tell him we’re going to be fighting a battalion of devils.”

“He’s already mobilizing the troops, sir.”

So even veterans needed to see it to believe it, eh?

Drake looked out over his company. They were alert, but there was still a noticeable lack of tension in their shoulders. That wasn’t necessarily a bad thing…but it certainly wouldn’t be the case had the men seen the devil with their own eyes.

He needed to tell them they were going to be fighting for their lives.

“If anything, this is going to be a brutal kill-or-be-killed battle. Think of the enemies as actual demons. Don’t be fooled by their looks.”

“This is that little girl we’re talking about, right?”

“She may look like a young girl, but heed my words. She’s nothing but a conniving little monster.”

Drake warned his comrades, but they somehow thought he was joking and laughed it off.

“You can’t be serious. Maybe you’ve spent too much time in the east, Colonel?”

The apprehension had completely drained from the man. Drake could tell from his posture, and that was all well and good, but he knew their opponent was going to be tough, even for these veterans.

“Listen up, my fellow marine mages. I’m only going to say this once.” Drake knew what he was about to say was as ungentlemanly as possible, but he persevered. “Don’t hesitate just because you find a woman on the other end of your sights. You need to kill them if you don’t want to die. If you spot a little girl, shoot her out of the sky without a second thought.”

“You catch something out there in the east? Maybe sleep with the wrong gal?”

“No, I’m healthy as a horse and thinking clear as a whistle. Although I almost wish you were right.”

This was war.

They were fighting in that war as marines first and foremost.

“Gentlemen… These are our seas. Become monsters if you have to out there… If you don’t want to die, you need to aim to kill. Today’s the day we send those bastards to their graves at the bottom of the channel.”

The Commonwealth had an advantage in numbers. They were fully prepared thanks to their intel and had the support of a powerful naval force as well. The balance of power was completely in their favor. Turned out that the politicians and the higher-ups could set up some damn good fights from time to time.

“Let’s do this! It’s our fight to win!”

AUGUST 31, UNIFIED YEAR 1927, SKIES ABOVE THE CHANNEL

This was supposed to be a surprise attack.

That’s what it said in the plan at least!

I took all conceivable courses of action possible to keep this a damn secret.

So what the hell are those? No, I don’t even need to ask. They’re black battleships—a veritable fleet of capital ships.

Rulers of the deep, the kings of the ocean. It’s the Commonwealth Home Fleet.

Well, more like a small part of their fleet. It’s easy to tell this from the lack of the famed dreadnoughts they’re so proud of. The fleet nearby is built around older models of fast battleships and battlecruisers.

As detestable as it may be, it’s more than enough to take out our fleet. Despite being only a small part of their armada, it seems like more than enough to take out the Imperial Navy’s entire fleet operating in the Northern Sea. Even our High Seas Fleet would only match this group in numbers, if at all.

Either way, the fleet we have now is like a bunch of ants about to be smashed by an elephant. It won’t be much of a fight—it’ll just be a massacre.

Of course, numbers aren’t the real reason we’re doomed.

What I’m really worried about is how the enemy will make their move.

Right when we’re about to execute a surprise attack, we just so happen to run into a larger fleet that’s ready to fight?

“Argh, there’s no way this happened by chance.”

I’d believe in Communism or Being X before believing this was the outcome of sheer luck. In other words, coincidences like this don’t exist.

I’d already been suspicious about this, but…my prior knowledge from my original world tells me at a glance that this is a preplanned welcome party, and it’ll be full of fun and surprises.

I had my suspicions before, but now I’m certain.

It’s a magic trick.

They must’ve fully deciphered the Empire’s encryptions. The Imperial Army encodes all their secret orders before sending them by radio, so…this isn’t something as simple as a small leak. It means they’re listening to everything we say.

Good grief. And to think I went through all that trouble to mask the 203rd Battalion’s movements.

This is why we can’t win.

As my desire to change jobs only grows stronger, I ball up my fists and grit my teeth while facing this new harsh reality. I know I’m fighting for the losing side.

Information is a matter of life or death. Regardless, this is something that could have been avoided.

It would’ve been possible had the rest of the Empire done the same as me and abstained from using radios to communicate. I don’t know if it was the idiots from Western Army Group command or the navy…but the utter lack of operational security makes me sick.

“I’m going to let them have it when I get back. That goes for General Romel, too—I need to raise hell about this.”

Actually doing so is going to be a challenge, however. As much as I want to point out the problem, I can’t prove that our codes had been deciphered.

It’s a case of probatio diabolica. I need proof I don’t have. The Imperial Army has incredible confidence in the flawlessness of their codes. If they didn’t…then the various departments of the military wouldn’t broadcast every damn morsel of our operations.

How cruel, reckless, and absurd.

“How could something this utterly stupid ever happen?”

“Lieutenant Colonel?”

I answer my adjutant’s worried expression with overflowing agitation. “First Lieutenant Serebryakov, remember what we’re seeing here today. This is the result of a slipup made by high command. Argh, this is why the outcome of the war is so uncertain!”

I’d scream, You imbeciles! if that was an option. If not for my place in society, I’d quit right here, right now. Not much can be done out in the field to fix management’s mistakes.

I may adore effort, but I abhor pointless effort.

Effort needs to be made with an appropriate means and objective. Moreover, it needs to be done so strategically, constructively, and in the right place, or else it’s meaningless. Effort is a means to an end, not the end.

Although a long-term outlook such as this serves no purpose to the situation I find myself in now.

I never knew that human beings could be so simple. The enemies before us are the problem at hand. I need to do something about them.

I can see the imperial fleet below, panicking as they quickly change course.

Though we have some battlecruisers, there’s a tragically small number of them. If they pick a fight with the Commonwealth Home Fleet, all that awaits them is a watery grave.

There’s no reason to waste so much life and tax money.

The commander of the navy? Well, what is there to say about him…? It seems like he’s got a good head on his shoulders, seeing as the ships are already scrambling to retreat.

It’s good to be quick on your feet.

Though it’d be nice if they sent their air support a message while they’re at it… I guess that’s just how much of a panic they’re in, though. They lack experience.

“It must be nice being in the navy. The less experience they have, the more they can shelter in a friendly harbor.”

Judging by the naval strike force’s commander, I’d wager he hasn’t seen many battles yet. It seems like there aren’t many experienced imperial marines.

Though, for the sake of all that’s good in the world…it would’ve been nice if we had a submarine or two to help us escape.

“Should we call a nearby friendly submarine on an open channel? No… It’d likely be pointless.”

I grumble to myself, only to reject my own question. This feels like a bad comedy… Tanya shakes her head.

Most of the imperial submarines stationed off the Commonwealth coast are unable to be contacted by radio. They’re likely lurking at the bottom of the sea where signals can’t reach them. If only I had a stupidly long antenna, then maybe I could send signals strong enough. Oh well. No point in wishing for things I don’t have.

Now, here’s a little quiz.

We have a single battalion, and the enemies have a whole brigade. They also have an overwhelming naval fleet.

I have no plans to plunge into their ship’s anti–air fire, but it’s also totally unfair that the enemy air units can rely on their ship for fire support and resupply.

By unfair, I mean they’d have the advantage in a long-term battle. So should we turn tail and run alongside our friendlies? Uh-uh, no can do. If we run away with the ships we’re supposed to defend…we’d have to match their pace.

And that’s definitely not a pace that can outrun enemy aerial mages.

Instead of being weighed down by them, it’s much more prudent to split up. I definitely don’t want to escape with the fleet, only to ditch them when things get too close for comfort.

“Attacking is the best defense, he says…”

“Lieutenant Colonel? Have you made your decision?”

I give a big nod of confirmation to my adjutant.

“Alert the ships. Tell them, Continue evasive maneuvers without us. We’re going to draw the enemy mages away, over.”

“But aren’t they already leaving without us?”

My adjutant gives a wry laugh as she points out the brutal truth. I feel compelled to respond as her boss.

“Visha, be more forgiving of the newer recruits.”

As long as they don’t make the same mistake again, this is acceptable. An organization that doesn’t forgive its employees is one that will force them to lie. A company needs to weed out whoever is causing the failures and fix them if they’re going to put an end to such problems. That isn’t possible if the employees hide the truth from the company, though.

“The navy is still new to battles. We should commend them for making the right decision and escaping. I look forward to seeing them fight another day.”

“If there is another day for them. We’d better tell them not to pick on the small fry.”

“Which them?”

My adjutant flashes a vicious smile.

“Isn’t it obvious? The Commonwealth Home Fleet. Should I go petition them to stop? I feel like the imperial ships below could at least wait for us to try that out first.”

I scowl at my adjutant’s childish phrasing. If she makes any mistakes, all responsibility will fall on me.

“Don’t do that, First Lieutenant Serebryakov.”

“Oh… Was it too indiscreet?”

That’s not it—I shake my head.

“Come on now, adjutant. I need you to straighten up. The whole point of war is to pick on the weak.”

“Right?!”

I declare this with absolute confidence.

“It would be a big problem if we were to do what we scold others for. We need to be consistent.”

“By consistent, you mean…?”

“Let’s do the same thing as them! You hear that, comrades? We’re going in.”

With a wave of a hand, I give the signal—the signal my troops have been waiting for since they came from the east.

“We’re charging the Commonwealth? Wunderbar, I can still remember that day I chased around that police officer.”

Major Weiss says a joke over the radio, tossing the ball into my court. It’s his way of getting the troops to relax.

I take the opportunity to join in his jest and return the pass.

“There are no police officers at sea, only those ghoulish marine mages.”

“Sounds like just the fun we’ve been waiting for.”

I can hear my deputy thump his fist on his chest. How dependable… If only he had interests in anything other than war, he’d make for some superb human capital. While I detest the idea of changing how people think on the inside too much, this is one of the rare times I wished I could.

Be that as it may, we’re at war, and this is a battle. My only wish is to do my work earnestly and honestly.

“Get ready, troops! Let’s give them a little taste of the maneuver warfare we perfected in the east. We’ll fly circles around the slow Commonwealth fleet!”

This is when I remember First Lieutenant Serebryakov’s suggestion. Contacting the Commonwealth may not be such a bad idea.

It could be a chance for her to use her own assets as a human resource.

“Lieutenant Serebryakov, prepare a radio broadcast for all signals.”

“Roger. What are you going to send?”

“This is the Imperial Army. Calling all pathetic amateurs. We’re here to teach you a lesson. Enjoy the maneuvers we’ve prepared over in the eastern front. That’s all, Lieutenant.”

First Lieutenant Serebryakov motions to say something but then closes her mouth… It’s a simple provocation, but such tactics have their place from time to time. The message we send needs to be understood by even the most brainless of fools.

Their logic going into battle is a valuable military asset. You see, nothing gets an idiot more riled up than being called an idiot.

This is precisely what makes them idiots, ironically enough.

My adjutant translates the message into polite Commonwealth, and from afar, we can see we are successful in provoking our enemies.

Apparently, their commander doesn’t have any self-control. Oh? Their movements aren’t uniform, either. Perhaps some of them are moving independently… Are they ignoring orders? If that’s the case, this is going to be easier than I thought.

It seems they don’t even know the basics of combined arms.

“We’ve got a big load to haul today, troops.”

I grin.

It would be difficult to take on an entire brigade even on a good day, but a brigade’s worth of unorganized soldiers isn’t frightening in the slightest. Leadership and teamwork are the keys to committing violence on an industrial scale.

Hit someone with one finger? Congratulations, you’ve poked them. Curl five fingers into a fist? You’ll send them flying. It’s an incredibly simple concept.

“They’re scattering before they charge us. How bold. To think they would ignore the risk of friendly fire and abandon any attempt to support one another.”

“Visha, that’s a sign of their fighting spirit. We should praise their effort.”

When I see my adjutant giving me an unexpected look, I simply smile.

“We’ll praise them, then destroy them.”

“So you want to pick on the amateurs, ma’am?”

“We’ll crush whoever challenges us. Should we refrain from attacking them just because they’re weak? Wait, you don’t actually hate picking on the weak, do you?”

“It’s one of my favorite things to do, Colonel.”

This is the same adjutant who just demanded that the enemy stop picking on the weak. Though I don’t want to infringe on my subordinate’s freedom of thought…I have no choice but to question her sense of justice.

“Adjutant, I’m going to write this down on your personnel record. Benevolence is an important thing to have. You should live your life caring for others. All humanity is a family, after all.”

Of course, this is mostly a joke, and everyone knows it.

“““Ha-ha-ha-ha!”””

Now this is a workplace overflowing with laughter. Other than First Lieutenant Wüstemann’s company falling slightly behind, there are no problems with our positioning.

“Now, unfortunately, this is war. Let’s show these amateurs how to dance!”

I give the orders, and the entire battalion immediately shifts gears.

Against a brigade, a battalion that sticks together only stands to be surrounded.

So what are we supposed to do?

The answer’s simple—charge first.

Anyone who knows their war history understands this. Weiss and Grantz know this best.

Even the replacement officers, like Wüstemann, have learned this important lesson on the battlefield.

The two-thousand-foot altitude difference isn’t a minor advantage. Tanya and the rest of the 203rd Aerial Mage Battalion, however, boldly throw this advantage away.

The four companies split up into four cone formations so that they can easily support one another. They will fall like four drills and penetrate the Commonwealth’s unorganized line.

It’s important to always get the drop on your enemy in a battle.

Unconcentrated incoming fire can hardly be considered threatening. And taking fire from several uncoordinated sources will never penetrate a well-trained mage’s defensive shell as long as they’re never allowed to focus fire. Conversely, a simple charge can be made incredibly deadly when executed in tandem with an entire company. From the moment the two forces engage in combat, the 203rd enjoys the fruit of victory from the bottom of their hearts.

The other side? Oh, those poor, pathetic amateurs!

Our less experienced opponents tend to take the luxury to stop flying before aiming and firing. Don’t they know that stopping for even a second to aim makes them sitting targets?

“It’s like penguins trying to fly.”

Their panicked flight patterns are laughable as well.

The Commonwealth computation orbs were made with an emphasis on maneuver warfare. They are light and nimble…therefore, they don’t stand out much when they aren’t in motion. The 203rd is more than experienced enough to crack open their defensive shells like can openers. My troops have opened more than their fair share of formidable Federation defensive shells in the east.

It’s a one-sided process.

We cut open the enemy’s protective film with our magic blades, then use the help of gravity to pierce their defensive shell. This results in a stunned enemy mage letting out a bloodcurdling scream—after which they’re considered neutralized as they make a swift descent to the sea below.

The scene is enveloped in violence.

The sparkle of enchanted blades, explosion formulas, and the occasional sprays of blood light up the sky like a violent storm.

“I thought this the last time we faced off, but the Commonwealth mages are so much softer than the Federation’s. It sure makes things easier on us, don’t you think, Colonel?”

In response to my adjutant’s words, I give a strong nod. They’re like eggs. It only takes a single tap for their yolks to come gushing out.

The few odd veterans protecting the new recruits pose more of a challenge…but there aren’t a lot of them.

“Their strategy is half-baked. They need to spread out the inexperienced mages more to keep them from getting swallowed up by the chaos of battle.”

We may even be able to bring the whole brigade down if we can shoot down the veterans who will come rushing to protect the newer recruits. They should be a bit more professional. This ended up being a figment of my imagination that no longer matched reality.

“I feel like their mages used to be stronger.”

“I agree. The Commonwealth may as well follow the same school of thought as the Federation Army and change to tougher orbs. Though…the same could probably be said for us.”

The lack of battle experience for newer troops is a problem shared by all the warring states at this point. Since amateurs only have their morale to rely on when they charge, giving them an orb that creates a stronger defensive shell and letting them focus purely on defense has proven to be the superior strategy.

It’s a sad reality. To think that instead of cultivating our best and brightest, we’d need to create a system to coddle the least capable. It feels like a stroke of luck that my troops don’t suffer from these issues. I like to think it’s a product of their daily training and my guidance.

“Major Weiss and Lieutenant Grantz are doing well.”

“What about Lieutenant Wüstemann?”

“His company needs some work. They’re close to getting a failing score…but I’ll give them extra points for learning during wartime. Compared to the enemy, they’re pulling their weight.”

I begin creating my own explosions while evaluating my subordinates.

“First Officer! Be a bit more brutal with your kills!”

“Are you sure, ma’am? I thought we were prioritizing breaking up their forces so we can penetrate their perimeter.”

“That’s a good idea, but this time we need to have First Lieutenant Wüstemann learn a thing or two about fighting. Show them how it’s done!”

“Roger!”

If on-the-job training is my only chance to teach them, then I’ll have to make the most of this opportunity. They might develop some strange habits from learning through trial by fire, but this is a good learning opportunity nonetheless… Though, honestly speaking, putting troops through the wringer is the best way to whip them into shape in general anyway.

For now, I have to make do with what I’ve got.

“First Lieutenant Wüstemann, do you copy? We’re going to lead some prey your way. Think of it as a team-building exercise for your company.”

“R-roger that.”

“Relax. You and your team are doing well. Not only that, look at your enemies. They’re drowning in the sky.”

The young first lieutenant lets out a sigh of relief when this gets pointed out to him.

“It’s like looking at how we used to be.”

“That’s exactly right. We need to take them out today before they reach your level.”

Enough experience will turn any amateur into a pro. Not only that, but this is war. Everyone is putting their life on the line, which is one of the greatest motivations for incredible personal growth.

“We must defang our enemies while we have the chance.”

“This really is war…”

“That’s exactly right,” I say with a nod.

Though there isn’t much time to indulge in such reveries. Major Weiss is moving fast and driving the enemy forward, after all. I bring my company with me to begin the hunt. First Lieutenant Wüstemann’s reserve company only needs to rush the group of confused mages.

This should be a quick and effective way for them to build real experience.

I can only laugh at how weak our enemies were.

I shake my head.

“We’ve been at war for too long.”

“Colonel?”

“The enemies are this weak, and yet the replacements are having trouble with them? What happened to our friendly army in the west? Just how bad is the current state of affairs here?”

It hurts my head just thinking about it.

We’ve fought the Commonwealth aerial mages many times, and it’s always the marine mages getting in the Empire’s way.

Though there’s a chance I’ve fought them unofficially in other places as well.

…There’s also a good chance the Commonwealth aerial mages have lost the bulk of their talent. The fact that they still pose a challenge for the Empire despite how weak they’ve become makes the Empire’s weakness just as apparent.

War creates a massive deficit in human capital.

“There’s something wrong with all this…”

I clear my mind with a shake of my head. It isn’t my job as a field commander to take into consideration my homeland’s human resources situation.

That’s a job for my superiors. A superior who ranks much, much higher than me, in fact.

Someone at my pay grade should only think about how to produce the greatest results with minimal losses on the battlefield. In other words, I need to produce results as a soldier—nothing more, nothing less.

“Kill our enemies for the beloved fatherland. And kill them for the land they love as well. War should be kept simple.”

I tell my subordinates to cast more explosive formulas and let out a wry laugh as I find myself growing uncharacteristically sentimental. There’s a more modern, civilized part of me that shouldn’t be able to accept the amount of human life we’re stealing. But I’m nothing more than a cog in something much bigger. That’s all.

That’s why I want to end this current dogfight as quickly as possible.

“Numbers are a weapon unto themselves. It seems that it’ll take quite a while to break down a full brigade.”

Sadly, things just aren’t going my way.

Despite dominating the battlefield, there’s only so much damage and confusion we can inflict on an entire brigade. I add in my own formulas here and there to try and rout them…but the enemies are maintaining unit cohesion on the whole.

Maybe they’re just trying to keep us here? At the very least, in terms of organic numbers, there are too many soldiers who are only there to fill in as a body. Though awkward and ineffective, there’s still a barely working chain of command. Managing such a brigade would cause tremendous mental stress.

They probably won’t last another attack or two.

“First Lieutenant Grantz, protect First Lieutenant Wüstemann and go make some friends.”

“Am I to pull them away from the line? Roger!”

“Good thinking, First Lieutenant Grantz.”

Grantz has learned a lot under General Zettour. He’s much easier to use now. Is this all thanks to the discipline of a high-ranking officer? I’ll need to ask the general about his teaching methods.

For now, I’ll need to rely on my tried-and-true methods. Trial by fire is the best sort of on-the-job training I know.

“Wüstemann, no need to be afraid. Follow Grantz’s lead and watch his moves!”

“R-roger!”

Tanya unleashes a rain of fire that turns an enemy mage into mincemeat before cheerfully addressing her subordinate.

“Relax, First Lieutenant. Look at yourself. You need to loosen up.”

“But, Colonel…sh-shouldn’t I try to keep my focus?”

It was a serious answer a greenhorn would give, and it wasn’t ideal.

There are certainly times where focus is critical, but humans are like rubber. If you stretch them out as far as possible, they’ll just lose their elasticity. Conserving your energy when you don’t need to use it could be considered an indispensable skill for surviving battles.

“A battle isn’t something you can enjoy if you’re stiff and severe. It’s healthier to loosen up a bit and go with the flow. This is the key to making it out alive.”

My XO unexpectedly decides to chime in while blowing a group of enemies out of the sky.

“Out of curiosity, Colonel, what are you thinking about when you’re fighting?”

“I’m not thinking about anything. That’s another trade secret. Do with it what you want.”

There’s something that I can’t deny when I’m watching my battalion go to work.

With the exception of the replacements, it’s mostly a band of warmongers. However, they act with control. I’m going to repeat this since it’s important, but these soldiers move like a well-oiled machine. Each of them is a violent cog that keeps the greater whole running smooth.

To put it in another way…I have no preference about my soldiers’ convictions as long as it keeps them from panicking on the battlefield.

They can believe in flying spaghetti monsters for all I care.

“We have to be earnest and work long and hard hours. Whoever wins the battle will be the side who does this more.”

I parry the swipe of a marine mage who comes charging in and shove my magic blade through his back, mumbling to myself before letting out a sigh.

Our enemies are mad as hell at this point. As if getting angry will make them better. If that were the case, I’d be more than willing to implement hate sessions for my own troops.

“Lieutenant Wüstemann, it’s like the colonel said… You need to relax.”

It seems the man is getting the gist of it. I can see the tense first lieutenant loosen up and begin to navigate the skies with a bit more grace.

“That’s it, that’s it. Now you’re getting it.”

Grantz and Weiss are doing a fantastic job drawing the enemies out. They skillfully toy with their catch and maneuver in a way to keep their attention away from First Lieutenant Wüstemann’s company. The seemingly thin sky is incredibly vast. The enemies are too focused on whatever danger they see directly ahead of them.

This is what ends up doing them in.

In a three-dimensional battle, you’re a sitting duck if you can’t maintain situational awareness in all directions. After the enemies lose sight of First Lieutenant Wüstemann, they get hit from an angle they never see coming.

While their technique still needs some work, their momentum and morale are both commendable. The glimmer of their formulas violently exploding through the sky is met with the screams and anguish of our enemies. This symphony is the sound of a successfully executed flanking maneuver.

“I suppose my advice was useful.”

I almost feel like a proper educator for a moment. There may be a fulfilling and rewarding aspect to teaching others.

No, I’m actually quite sure of this fact by now.

Education is extremely important, if not only for cultivating the limited human capital they had left. War is about making your army as efficient as possible. The inability to do this is met with death.

In a way, it’s sort of the ultimate competition.

If you fail to raise your people right, you won’t be able to win a war, or a race, or anything at all really.

The scene playing out before me speaks volumes about this point.

My clever subordinates outmaneuver the enemies, isolating them from the brigade. While there are parts of it that could still use some work, the fact that the replacements are following up with their own attack is proof that they can get the job done.

Although it isn’t something I’m prepared to let them do entirely on their own just yet.

“So you’ve managed to take on a battalion with two companies? Your execution is by no means poor, but there’s still ample room for improvement.”

First Lieutenant Wüstemann’s unit still isn’t very good at pushing their enemies back. They lack impact as well. The enemy is getting flanked, and both Weiss and Grantz have them positioned perfectly, and yet they’re unable to completely wipe them out!

The enemies have been packed into a spherical kill zone, so Wüstemann’s unit needs to charge into that space and destroy the enemy. They’re focusing too much on maintaining a proper formation for the sake of firepower—what a waste.

With a sigh, I swallow my complaints in the hopes that they’ll improve in the future.

This is the best I have access to for now. You can’t quit a card game just because you don’t like the hand you were dealt.

First Lieutenant Wüstemann and his troops are giving it their best to produce results.

While still rough around the edges, the company shows the fighting spirit and initiative needed to take on a full battalion. I need to give praise when the troops deserve it. While managerial staff always have their own perspective on how work should be done…it’s unfair to push those ideals onto the staff.

They haven’t been trained properly yet. If something happens, the responsibility will fall on my shoulders.

“If only there was more time… Things would be different.”

Their lack of skills directly correlates with their lack of training. I hate that I have to solve this problem on-site during a full-fledged dogfight.

I can hardly believe it. Both my allies and our enemies have completely forgone proper training!

Despite all the gunfire and formulas, as the battle presses on, my common sense is the greatest source of agitation.

What a waste of perfectly good industrial goods. It’s a good thing that our enemy has such terrible aim…but the sheer volume of steel and gunpowder being used in this fight is deplorable. It’s the worst possible use of human and fiscal capital. What’s worse, they completely ignore the human component—the most important part!

What do militaries think people are?!

I can’t bear to watch as the enemy forces practically drown at this altitude while repositioning my company. They’ve barely changed their formation at all, and their long-range magic formulas are basically accomplishing nothing. They don’t even have a proper firing pattern—it’s almost jarring.

They’ve ignored training far too much. A better world and a better environment are both born from properly cultivated human capital! Don’t they know this? War is nothing but a massive, tremendous waste.

They say that people are the castles, walls, and moats of an army, but it feels like we’re fighting a literal wall of flesh.

I float in midair with a daunting pose and lament the state of the world from the bottom of my heart, but alas—I’m but a civil servant. What one wants to do doesn’t always coincide with what they must do.

Dodging enemy fire as it comes my way, I watch my troops make their next charge. It feels like they no longer need to surround the enemies for the newbies.

“Major Weiss, let the new guys handle it from here.”

“Roger. What should we do?”

He asked the question more like it was an invitation.

The enemy brigade is in the middle of throwing us a party just a short distance away. Though we’ve gained a bit of wiggle room, the 203rd is chronically understaffed… That means we always have to be on the move.

“You already know the answer. It’s time for work.”

I answer my first officer in a lighthearted tone before reorganizing my company. There are no slipups as my soldiers skillfully return to their positions with great haste.

This is what separates the 203rd from other units.

It’s our three-dimensional maneuverability born from hard-fought experience. Dogfights get hectic, and it can be hard to determine enemies from allies, so maintaining control of your unit and having them move in tandem trumps everything else.

This was considered basic knowledge before the onset of the war, but…it’s something that seems to have been completely forgotten.

“Shall we?”

“Let’s.”

With a big wave, I send my subordinates toward the target.

“We’re heading right for their center.”

“Let’s move.”

Tanya’s soldiers see her lightly clench her fist and know exactly what to do. She doesn’t need to say much. It’s business as usual, after all.

Aim for their commander and kill him before he realizes what’s going on.

It’s the only way for them to win this battle where the more well-trained imperial soldiers are at a disadvantage due to being far outnumbered. For the 203rd, which has been deployed in various capacities in different theaters, using a tactic like this is routine.

On Tanya’s orders, the deputy commander and his troops begin to fly in and conduct their attack runs.

They produce an inferno of explosion formulas that blow the Commonwealth mages who pepper the skyline out of the air. With the sound of screams as their musical score, Tanya and her troops cut straight through the Commonwealth formation.

Halfway through their attack, the enemy ships below do their best to send up some supporting anti-air fire. Flak and tracers fill the air…but as the Commonwealth gunners have to worry about hitting friendlies, most of their support fire is wasted in irrelevant airspace. The imperial mages barely need to avoid it.

The elite mages, each of whom were baptized by fire, barely pay any mind to it. Our advance is like a hot knife slicing through butter.

They move deep into their line, going straight for the jugular.

Pushing their way past the enemies, the soldiers move toward their floating target.

A single, older gentleman in a sky full of young mages.

Tanya grins as she watches the man she assumes is the Commonwealth commander flail his arms and call out orders in a hoarse voice, desperately attempting to get a handle on the chaos and get his troops back under control.

“There he is! Now’s our chance!”

The two ace companies are easily able to plow through the thinly spaced line of brigade mages. It’s simple to behead the more panicked soldiers.

That isn’t to say they’ve lost their chain of command.

As much as they try to stop the 203rd…their formation isn’t solid enough. What really does them in is their slow reaction times, though. This is especially true for their commanding officer.

The older gentleman doesn’t even try to put his subordinates between himself and his enemies and powers up his defensive shell to fight. What an incompetent fool, unable to use his men appropriately.

“Kill him!”

THE SAME DAY—ON THE OTHER SIDE

Why are we just sitting on the sidelines, watching idly, while our boys are getting killed out there?

Lieutenant Colonel Drake felt intense aggravation and sadness he couldn’t do anything with. He watched as the youths of his nation were devoured by a group of monsters. Why am I helpless to do anything?

He wanted to charge forward and annihilate the Empire’s fiends that consumed everything and everyone in their path.

He was there, however, as part of the backup. His company was being held as a tactical reserve. Even if he put himself between the brigade and the enemy, there wasn’t anything he could do to quell the chaos.

“Damn it, I can’t take this…”

Every time the enemy opened fire, another of his comrades fell from the sky.

It couldn’t be more obvious that they were losing the battle.

“Shit!”

He wrestled with the idea of abandoning his post to go help—a dilemma all smaller groups of reserve units faced since time immemorial. It was important to stop troops for chasing down and attacking the enemy ships. Keeping a reserve to put out fires was also critical. This made Drake and his troops something of a trump card for Commander Ballmer should he need them.

In other words, a company was a convenient unit to hold back during battle.

The brigade would do the fighting, and the company would be called in on the commander’s timing.

That was how it was supposed to work anyway…

Drake watched on in utter disbelief. It didn’t seem possible that a brigade of this scale could be so easily dismantled.

“Help! The enemy! They’re too strong!”

“Agh, ahh…it hurts…”

“Mama, mama, mama…”

“Calm down! Stay in formation!”

“Keep your eyes peeled for the enemy! Don’t focus only on what’s in front of you!”

“Commander under fire! Commander under fire!”

“Quit your crying! Stop yelling for no reason! Ready your weapons…”

Explosions, screams, and the weeping of soldiers who were still children came pouring in over the radio.

“What the fuck…?”

There was a brigade’s worth of marine mages out there, but they clearly had no hope of defeating the enemy battalion. It was like watching a bunch of Boy Scouts running up and taking a swing at finely tuned instruments of war.

“These men are Commonwealth marine mages?”

Even though they had a huge advantage in numbers, most of the Commonwealth’s soldiers were on the verge of having a mental breakdown. Drake couldn’t believe what he was seeing.

It would be understandable if they didn’t have the numbers to match the enemy or were at least giving as good as they got considering their tactical advantages. There was precedent for imperial aerial mages turning into ruthless barbarians on the battlefield. Drake had seen this for himself.

But what he was seeing now… The marine mages were supposed to be the pride of the Commonwealth, but even a brigade of them wasn’t putting up much of a fight. As shock and doubt gripped his heart, Drake shook his head and took a few deep breaths to collect himself.

He couldn’t do anything but watch as events played out. If he ever felt the need to avert his eyes, he knew it wouldn’t be long before he became the enemy’s new prey. Still, it was the definition of an unbearable sight.

He watched as young soldiers were stripped of their defensive shells with optical sniping formulas before falling to their deaths. They were amateurs, too inexperienced to avoid enemy fire or make use of optical deception formulas.

They were like lambs led to the slaughter, unable to fly properly—many could barely float in place. He wouldn’t have known they were soldiers had it not been for their uniforms. It was a hard sight to take in for someone who’d been an officer since before the onset of the war. He wanted to shake his head and pretend it wasn’t happening.

That it was all just a bad dream. The Commonwealth marine mage troops were supposed to be the toughest of the tough. It should’ve been impossible for any of them to falter like this.

Nevertheless, he couldn’t escape this reality. Why was that? Because he could picture the bitter face Commander Ballmer would make! He could hear him lamenting over his young soldiers and their lack of training!

“Ah, son of a bitch.”

Whenever he had to work together with older officers such as Colonel Mikel and Commander Ballmer, he always ended up having to face this harsh reality. Commanders were always older, and soldiers were always younger. Anyone who fit in between was already resting in peace.

And today, yet again, Drake would watch mere children go to their graves. He could only hope that the ships below would be able to pick up as many downed mages as they could.

“Fledglings, he called them. That certainly wasn’t an understatement.”

Drake knew it was too late for him to be having this realization.

Despite how much he wanted to intervene, there wasn’t much he could actually do. He played with the thought of casting some long-range optical formulas of his own, but it was too risky considering how tangled up the two sides had gotten.

Shaken to the core, Lieutenant Colonel Drake confirmed something with his subordinate to take his mind off the mess.

“C’mon, these must be our bottom-of-the-barrel mages, right?”

“Not at all! Look, they’re able to fly.”

He couldn’t believe what the man, a friend of his, was saying. He makes it sound like the newer recruits don’t even know how to fly.

“Wait, you call that flying?”

While the marine mages were regularly touted as the masters of three-dimensional warfare, the ones currently in the sky were clearly still stuck on their second dimension. Without any awareness of the space above or below them, they were being served up on a platter by the cunning imperial mage troops.

“They’re practically drowning out there.”

Drake said this with a sullen expression, but his subordinate half scolded him with his response.

“Ah, right. I forgot how much time you spent in the east, Lieutenant Colonel. Turnover is high in the homeland nowadays.”

“So you’re saying this is standard?”

To Drake’s dismay, his subordinate answered with a firm yes.

“General Ballmer is one of the better commanders. The army has to rush through training as quickly as possible to get new recruits up and running. It’s impressive that he’s gotten them to the point where they can move like a unit.”

Hold the phone—Lieutenant Colonel Drake almost started trembling, and not because of the battle that played out before him. These shoddy mages were considered some of the better ones?

He watched as the enemy effortlessly peeled off their protective films with explosion formulas. They call these mages up to par? The hard-as-nails machines that the Federation fielded could withstand anything short of a direct hit from an optical sniping formula.

Drake gave his fellow ace a depressed look, and he replied with a simple answer.

“Think of it as a pseudo-unit—they’re almost like real mages.”

“You can’t possibly think that’s a good way of putting it.”

Unable to hide his shock, he was overcome with the urge to jump into the fray and help his allies as they were mercilessly mowed down by the enemy.

“Looks more like a fire that needs putting out,” he suggested, to which his partner gave a nod. The ace mages knew they could stand by idly as the situation grew worse and worse.

They needed to intervene.

“We have to do something. Damn it, I wish we had a marine mage battalion from before the war!”

“On top of the brigade out there? That’s asking for a lot, Colonel.”

“They’re still in training, so you can’t count them. Who would’ve thought we’d be fighting a war with children on the front line. I wish someone told me this is what I was getting into beforehand.”

Drake scoffed and shook his head. He knew that they didn’t prepare enough for this war.

Ever since its onset, the entire war has been controlled by the imperial war machine—it decided where and when the fights happened.

Now the Commonwealth was paying for it with the blood of their young.

Thus, he could only watch as imperial mages used magic to shower the ocean below with the fresh blood of mages who were mere children.

“Fucking hell. If there really is a god, I want to clock him in the head one day!”

The injustice of the situation was absurd, and he found it harder and harder to keep looking away from it. Too many lives have been paid to the god of death; it was time to do something.

“Daniel 01, Daniel 01, this is Pirate Commander. Requesting emergency permission to join the fight. All reserve soldiers are ready for action! Make the call!”

“Pirate Commander, this is Daniel 06. Please hold!”

“Huh?”

The voice that answered him wasn’t the brigade commander but his aide?

Were things too chaotic for him to personally handle requests?

It was hard to make the call to move in without Commander Ballmer’s permission. Should they respect their role as reserve soldiers?

With the way things were, the battle was going to end with them doing nothing but watching helplessly.

The situation wasn’t good—the brigade was slowly being broken up and crushed piecemeal. They could hear Commander Ballmer’s aide trying to raise his voice on the radio in an attempt to bring some semblance of control to the line.

All this did was serve to spread more fear and panic.

Drake wondered, Should I jump in on the radio? He didn’t want to make things tougher for the commanding officers who were already under immense pressure…

This inner conflict he found himself struggling with would be brought to an abrupt end by outside forces. It was like a battle-ax came chopping the knot that had been welling up inside of him.

Then it happened soon after the enemy company split into two groups.

“Daniel 01 down! Daniel 01 down!”

A brigade officer could be heard screaming this over the radio. The panic in his voice was palpable. The worst imaginable turn of events had happened.

“Wh—?!”

This can’t be happening, Drake wanted to shout.

The Commonwealth’s brigade had been completely dismantled by a single battalion. The worst part was it had ended with the death of the very leader who had been trying to bring the chaos back under control.

Ah, right…

Decapitation tactics were the Empire’s forte.

It was the Devil of the Rhine they were fighting—Commander Ballmer was the obvious first choice for their surgical attacks.

Drake could see that the battle was already playing out exactly as the enemy had planned it.

What was their next goal? This was also obvious. It had to be warships that chased their allies below. He could already see them effortlessly streaking down toward the Commonwealth fleet below. This was bad.

Drake knew it from his core.

The girl out there was the Devil of the Rhine, and she was free to act as she pleased. The situation couldn’t get any worse than this. They needed to do anything they could to stop her from having her way.

Lieutenant Colonel Drake decided to take matters into his own hands.

“Pirate Commander to all marine mage units! Pirate Commander to all marine mage units! I’ll be taking over command for this battle!”

It didn’t matter if he had to force his way onto the battlefield. In fact, it was this sort of forced momentum that often turned the tides of a battle. This was no time to remain calm. The only way to get a positive number from a negative number was to multiply it with another negative number. Drake flew off at full speed. He rapidly climbed as he entered the area of operations. He was about to show them all how a true marine mage could fight.

“Get a hold of yourselves! Look at their numbers! They’re still human! You can kill them! Calm down and raise your damn weapons!”

Drake was fortunate to have had his run-in with the Devil of the Rhine in the east, where he also commanded young soldiers. Thanks to that, he knew what he needed to tell them in order to bring them back into the fray.

He counted himself lucky for the accursed experience. Now go to hell, you bastard.

“This is war! Shoot to kill and become a hero! Use your weapons! Don’t get shot down! Look for the enemy and fire! Don’t lose sight of them! Kill them all!”

He shouted over and over on the radio, telling the soldiers what they needed to do. He assured them that they could do it and that the enemy wasn’t immortal.

Drake shouted like a beast, but his orders were simple enough to bring the lost soldiers to their senses. He moved to the very front of the line and charged in screaming.

Being calm on the battlefield was always the best course of action, but that wasn’t something new soldiers were capable of doing.

Instead of asking for what he couldn’t have, Drake made use of the next best thing that he had on hand. He rallied and emboldened his soldiers.

“Marine mage company, charge! Let’s show the young mages how to kill!”

What a terrible sight to see.

The Commonwealth soldiers weren’t charging in as soldiers but as killers. This was essentially the failure of the military as an organization. But it was the only way Lieutenant Colonel Drake could come up with to get his men to fight the way they needed to. He had to rally them in some way to change the flow of battle.

Any kind of momentum was good momentum, even if it was fueled by hysteria.

To really kick his units into gear, he needed to give them a taste of hope. To do this, he was going to need to ease the mounting enemy pressure on the battlefield. In other words, he was going to need to be their shield.

Hopefully, this would give them the time they need to pull themselves together. Hopefully, it would bring back their will to fight. Hopefully, friendly reinforcements would show up on the horizon.

He only had hope to rely on at this point.

Either way, the only thing he could do was endure until whatever hope decided to show up.

“Time for the adults to show the kids a thing or two!”

THE SAME DAY, 203RD AERIAL MAGE BATTALION

War never goes the way one hopes it will.

After dominating the enemy brigade, my plan was to hold a little get-together with the enemy fleet, where I intended on giving them a couple explosion formulas as gifts. This got canceled when my adjutant warned of a tactless new enemy.

“Lieutenant Colonel, new mage troops have joined the battle.”

I look over to the area she pointed out and see enemy mages quickly approaching.

They’re coming in a little too quick. At a glance, I can tell that these mages are far more skilled than the brigade we’d just taken apart.

While their numbers are nothing too concerning, I can tell this company of mages that’s been kept in reserve knows how to fight. The 203rd had no choice but to hit the brigade with everything they had from the very beginning, so seeing that the Commonwealth saved the best for last makes me want to cry foul play.

A company joining the fight won’t have any major effect on the outcome of the battle.

A flawless company, however, could easily change the pace of battle.

Were they using the brigade as a meat shield before sending in the real powerhouses? It reminds me of the Federation. I have to admit that I never imagined in a million years the Commonwealth would play such a card.

I scoff at that thought and give myself a self-deprecating chuckle.

“They’ve tricked us.”

We were too fixated on our prey and completely missed the forest for the trees. I remember the day when I lost most of my troops in the Northern Sea.

The same potential for heavy losses rears its ugly head again. No, it’s worse than that.

During that battle, at least we could still expect replacements. I went into this fully knowing that we aren’t going to get replacements anymore… And that was after being told that I should be grateful I have a full battalion in the first place. This was said to me by a member of the General Staff Office speaking to their strongest aerial mage battalion.

In other words, this couldn’t possibly get any worse.

I feel a chill run down my spine at the thought of losing any of my subordinates.

The Commonwealth always brings out their best when it comes to love and war. Damn it.

“Duck hunt over! The duck hunt is over!”

Unable to completely shake the feeling of unease, I send that warning over the radio.

“New enemies have appeared, and they know what they’re doing!”

I wave my hands and point out the incoming Commonwealth mages. Thankfully, my troops know exactly what I mean. Having previously split up to divide the brigade into small pieces for defeat in detail, my companies form back up in a new formation.

The perfect way they reorganize themselves without showing even a hint of fatigue is almost beautiful. They probably wouldn’t suffer too much return fire were they to attack the ships below. We’re actually in a good position to set a destroyer or two ablaze. In the same vein, we could also easily beat a hasty retreat if need be.

But they are currently in the midst of a battle with a brigade. At the end of the day, mages are a product of science. They are susceptible to wear and tear, and their ammunition is not unlimited. If we’re supposed to create some sort of alchemy-like miracle, I’m going to need dozens more of my Elinium Type 95 orbs.

The Type 97 Assault Computation Orb is an impressive piece of gear, but they are still within the realm of reason. How’s our ammo looking? Worst-case scenario, could we somehow manage the rest with only orb formulas?

That wouldn’t be a problem against an unskilled enemy. Everything changes if we’re facing a logical enemy, especially the type who is willing to use their own troops as a shield.

“How scary…to think they’d use their younger soldiers as cannon fodder…”

I didn’t expect this fight to devolve into an all-out war like this.

I grit my teeth as I only just barely manage to keep a Those cheaters comment to myself.

I can’t get over how unfair the whole situation is. I also see my soldiers as a form of meat shield and an important one at that. This should be self-evident. All humans value their own lives over others. But are humans not social animals?

I can’t shake off my surprise at the fact that the enemy would use such a strategy so blatantly.

No, no, no.

The fact that Commonwealth mages came flying at us the way they did is also hard to comprehend.

Are they sane? Should I take them off my list of potential employers? Either way, this is hardly the time to be thinking about this. I cram my anxiety into a deep corner of my mind and quickly focus on how to approach the new fight.

“Deputy, how do you think we should cook these new enemies?”

“…I don’t like the turn this has taken. It makes me shudder to think they’ve played a trick like this.”

“Good thinking. Damn the Commonwealth. They were hiding soldiers who know how to fight. What a loathsome tactic. Never thought they’d use their younger soldiers as cannon fodder.”

What started out as picking on a weaker enemy turned out to be a calculating trap.

Keeping a fleet lying in wait for the Empire’s naval squadron wasn’t enough. They had to assert dominance over the sky as well.

I want to turn tail and run right this second, but…

Sadly, my position prevents me from doing so. Getting the mages out of there would be simple, but we need to buy enough time for the navy to put some distance between themselves and the Commonwealth. This is why I can’t stand those sluggish ships!

“There are some real cunning bastards on the enemy’s side, smart enough to use their newer soldiers as shields. I should be the last person to say this, but it feels like we’ve been at war for too long.”

I air my grumbles out over the radio, and First Lieutenant Serebryakov interjects.

“Should we have gone easier on them, then?”

“Do you want to be the one to tell your comrades’ families the bad news if they don’t make it home? I prefer to limit the crying to the families of my enemies.”

Keeping your stakeholders happy is a key part of working for any organization. It goes without saying that I would love to do something for a potential new employer if it were in my power to do so. I know that it’s important to make a good impression somehow! That said, it would be a huge mistake for me to try and do such a thing under these circumstances.

It would be incredibly idiotic for a person looking for a new job to let their coworkers know that’s what they’re doing. You need to get your new job first, and then you can slowly ease the people around you into the idea.

It doesn’t work the other way around.

The moment your coworkers see you as someone who wants to change jobs, no matter how valuable a human resource you may be, you’re labeled as unreliable.

I can attest to this as someone with expertise as an HR representative.

A worker loses the quality known as trust the moment the employer identifies them as ungrateful. Losing that trust is like getting cut off from oxygen. If they don’t have a new air tank in the form of their next employer lined up beforehand, they’ll choke.

This is why I know the decision I need to make and refuse to let my companions down. It’d be nice if things were easy for once, though.

“We’ll knock them out of the sky. Stay close to your wingmates. We’ll end this with one final blow.”

I keep my eyes on the enemies while I listen to a chorus of rogers respond over the radio. If I had a chance…I was originally planning on hitting them with a long-range formula, but it’s probably better not to get greedy.

The incoming Commonwealth mages unleash some optical sniping formulas as suppressing fire, but it’s easily avoided. They also make quick work of our deception formulas as well. Their skills as mages are palpable.

At this point, I notice something peculiar about how our enemies are moving.

“Those mages are moving strangely.”

“What?”

“See for yourself, First Lieutenant,” I say while gesturing toward the enemy just before I pick up shouting coming over the radio.

I can hear something on the open channel. It’s in Commonwealth.

What are they saying? I listen closely.

“This is war! Shoot to kill and become a hero! Use your weapons! Don’t get shot down! Look for the enemy and fire! Don’t lose sight of them! Kill them!”

I hear a litany of revolting phrases one after the other. I can’t believe my ears.

“Disgusting…”

I wince at the sheer barbarism of our enemies. This man is inciting his troops to commit simple murder.

“So what they say is true. There’s nothing gentle about Commonwealth men the moment they step away from the mainland.”

I didn’t expect to hear my adjutant giggling in response.

“Listen to them, Colonel. It’s abhorrent, isn’t it? They want to murder us.”

“Indeed. I am speechless. To think things could get this barbaric.”

“Maybe we should let them know who they’re dealing with by showing them some real violence.”

I should probably correct this kind of talk. I’m able to recognize my own mistake when I’ve made one. The Commonwealth soldiers aren’t the only ones who are broken.

Now that this has been established, I realize I’m facing an existential problem.

I must be the only sane person left on the battlefield.

He knew he was the one who shocked the fear out of the young soldiers by riling them up.

Lieutenant Colonel Drake knew that he had created a conundrum for himself as he flew straight toward his enemies.

It felt like he had created an entire brigade’s worth of First Lieutenant Sues.

He threw away any semblance of control that Commander—no, the now-deceased Lieutenant General Ballmer had instilled within them and transformed the battlefield into a version of hell on earth.

“We’ve picked up the Empire’s radio channel. It’s pretty bad.”

Lieutenant Colonel Drake furrowed his brow at his subordinate’s report.

“What, more taunting?”

His last encounter with an imperial mage was still fresh in his mind, but what he was about to hear would cause him to sigh.

What is with those imperial dogs? Evidently, they were urging their troops to murder the Commonwealth troops. And here he thought they would try to retreat, but it looked like they were ready to fight to the death.

“Hell…would it hurt to flinch at least a little?”

“What should we do, Colonel? Should we keep going?”

He blinked for a moment, caught off guard by his adjutant’s words.

“You bet your ass we are. If we’re going to die, it’s going to be on a battlefield.”

“Roger!”

And thus, the two crazed commanders on either side both gave their orders.

““Fire at will!””

The two sides laid into their enemies with everything they had at the very same time.

A battle of raw firepower unfolded where the elite mages on either side prioritized a quick victory over preserving their strength, and it was an endurance test for both commanders.

They gambled their victory on massive formulas, creating chains of explosions that lit up the night sky.

The air around the explosions twisted and warped, an amalgam of science and magic screeching back and forth as the veteran mages on either side poured every fiber of their being into maintaining their defensive shells to stay alive.

The atmosphere around them shook with a thick reverberation that even these skilled mages had never experienced before.

““Stay in formation!””

Both commanders knew exactly what they needed to do.

They needed their sides to stay together.

They needed to keep the outgoing violence tightly coordinated.

Each of the battalions fought as a unit.

At lung-collapsing altitudes, expert mages on either side relied on the uppermost limits of their knowledge and experience as the battle raged on. They constantly used explosion formulas for suppression—though they constantly looked for the opportunity to land the occasional kill. Lure and deception formulas laced the smoke-filled air.

Both sides closed the distance, magic blades at the ready, fully prepare for hand-to-hand combat in the air…but after multiple people demonstrated their willingness to use explosion formulas at point-blank range, an uneasy distance emerged.

They ebbed and flowed, going back and forth as they read each other’s movement at the highest level.

Nevertheless, there were no signs of either side letting up.

Tanya flew at the center of her formation, glaring at her enemies with malicious eyes.

The Commonwealth reserve unit had brought the brigade back to its feet. That said, even if quantity has a quality all its own, a herd of sheep led by a lion will still fall prey to a pack of wolves.

For the Imperial Army, however, this turn of events happened after they’d already taken out their primary target.

It was like an utter nightmare.

The same could be said for Lieutenant Colonel Drake, who had successfully brought his troops back from the brink. The only actual authority he had here was over a lone company. All semblance of command that Commander Ballmer had strung together for the brigade had been long lost.

This left him with a panicked mob and a single company of mages.

He had commanded a group of soldiers who might charge ahead at the drop of a hat to just fire at will—there was no way for them to use their numbers effectively at this point.

The only thing he could rely on was his company of ace mages. In this regard, and to his great annoyance, the enemy battalion was under the command of the Devil of the Rhine. It wasn’t just any battalion but a battalion of elite mages.

To think there were still that many skilled mages even left in the war! Their flying seemed largely unaffected by the altitude, and they were able to maintain their formation when flying through three dimensions. To put it bluntly, this was the epitome of unfairness.

Ah—a single groan escapes each of the commanders’ mouths into the war-torn sky.

Both commanders told themselves that their enemy was no longer human and were fully convinced that the enemy had the advantage in numbers.

Neither of them could escape. Neither of them could show weakness in front of their soldiers. They both bore the burden of protecting friendly ships far below.

In both of their hearts, they cursed the entire battle with the worst words they could come up with.

They also both cursed their superiors who put them in this situation.

“Damn it! We’re always behind in numbers!”

Tanya lamented about how her enemies were always able to make their comebacks with numbers ever since her time on the eastern front. She wanted nothing more than for her battles to be simple for once. War shouldn’t be fought unless it could be done safely and easily!

Not that she could say any of that out loud—she needed every ounce of oxygen to stay in the air.

Lieutenant Colonel Drake, on the other side, also cursed the war he hated so very deeply.

“Damn it! It looks like I’m going to get caught up in another exorcism! Where are the damn priests when you need them?!”

Is there really a God watching over this world? If anything, Drake thought it much more likely a witch was watching over them from her accursed cauldron. He didn’t care who they were—he only wanted them to hand over a marine mage battalion that had formed before the war!

With his mind full of idle complaints, Drake channeled mana into his computation orb while he endured a headache to cast his formulas. Maintaining control of his troops, he directed his subordinates to focus fire on a single point.

My damn head hurts—he cursed the heavens once more.

Coincidentally, the commanders on both sides came to the same conclusion at that very moment.

““Why does it always have to be this way?!””

They both lamented over having to pick up the pieces of somebody else’s mess as they unleashed sky-warping formulas at each other.

Humans tend to want what they can’t have. The grass is always greener on the other side. A battlefield, however, is not the right place to dwell on such feelings.

Both sides needed to suppress whatever perceived strength they thought the enemy had with their own firepower. Ignoring holes in their own formation, they tried to surge forward and exploit holes in the enemy formation. In order to live, both Degurechaff and Drake—two lieutenant colonels forced to fight the same war—barked their orders in angry voices.

The side that took control of the skies for a second time would be the four companies that made up the imperial mage battalion.

“Each company! Charge! Don’t get boxed in by their suppression fire! Keep them pinned down with your speed! Move, move, move!”

Those four companies were like four separate heads of a Hydra.

After deciding to suppress her enemy with the many heads, Tanya tasked her units with forming a new formation and then cutting the throat of their new target—Lieutenant Colonel Drake.

But there wasn’t a marine mage in the land who knew more about the Empire’s decapitation tactics than Drake. He could analyze and react to their movements with a speed that was unlike anything Tanya had ever seen before.

His short chain of command allowed him to deploy his forces swiftly. He needed to make use of his numbers, even if it meant taking control of the entire sky by filling it with fire.

“Concentrated fire! Focus your fire! Stay calm and use our numbers against them! Keep them pinned down!”

Drake ordered what was left of the brigade to open fire as he unleashed his own formulas in an attempt to neutralize incoming enemy attacks. The newer recruits were only able to fire in a straight line, but his company of aces could use this fire to create a net capable of keeping the enemy away.

It went without saying that such suppression fire wasn’t outside the realm of the 203rd’s imagination.

Charging an enemy always entailed braving some amount of fire. It meant plunging directly into the enemy’s formation, after all, so their success depended entirely on their ability to survive any withering fire that came their way.

The highly skilled mages maneuvered their way through enemy fire, but what happened next left Tanya awestruck.

“Dispersing randomly while advancing… Wait, they’re firing back while strafing?!”

The mage brigade pulling off such a counter meant that they could see through Tanya’s maneuvers. It was no mystery that the Commonwealth reserve mages were highly skilled, but them countering her evasive charging tactics so completely caught her off guard.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Adjutant, reorganize the troops. We’re going in.”

“We’re going to force our way through?”

“That’s right.” Tanya affirms her question.

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

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

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

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

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

“Roger. Let’s put out this fire while it’s still small.”

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

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

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

It was an altitude far too high for any harassing fire from below to reach.

Realizing this, Drake shouted out, “Damn it!”

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

Drake didn’t even have to look at them to know.

The enemy had thrown off their rhythm.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Drake wasn’t going to let the opportunity slip through his fingers this time. He watched and waited for his chance.

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

“Hmm?!”

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

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

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

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

Fully determined to do just that, Tanya shouted.

“You freak! I’ll kill you for sure this time!”

She wasn’t the only one shouting—Drake roared from below as well.

“Rusted Silver! You’re going die today!”

These two hounds clashed for victory and survival.

Both hounds, though, were very intelligent.

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

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

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

In other words, they both chose the only reliable way to kill each other.

And that was to use explosion formulas at ultra–close range.

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

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

Be that as it may, what would happen if the caster was able to time their attack perfectly? What if they were able to transfer all their magic into their protective film and defensive shell immediately after casting?

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

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

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

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

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

He even abandoned his flight magic.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The winning side stole all momentum from the losing side.

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

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

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

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

After recomposing herself, she barked out her next orders.

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

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

It came down to pure violence.

Or the right attack.

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

“Volley fire! Use three explosion formulas!”

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

“We’ve taken out the enemy forces! The ships below are vulnerable! We’ve created a path for our allies!”

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

“This isn’t the east, First Lieutenant.”

“But, Commander? Shouldn’t we…?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I supposed we’ve done enough to cover our navy’s retreat.”

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

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

“What? I assumed you’d send them another farewell letter to poke fun at them…”

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

“Our plan has ended in failure. We’re not in the position to ridicule anyone.”

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

It was the same as always.

They had scored another small victory.

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

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

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

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

“Damn it all. I’m going to give General Romel an earful when I get back.”

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

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

“Shit!”

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

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

This meant that the plan had failed.

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

“Why?! How did they know?!”

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

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

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

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

Even so, what happened this time was impossible.

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

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

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

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

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

“Why was the Royal Navy there?!”

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

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

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

“I can’t believe this. There’s no explanation for it.”

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

Romel roamed his office aimlessly like a wounded beast when he realized there was a sound coming from somewhere. A phone was ringing.

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

He took a moment to catch his breath before picking up the phone.

“Hello… What are the losses?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Everything was riding on this report.

It was a thin brief. This was because it was their initial after-action report. Either way, the sparse details were more than enough to quench Lieutenant General Romel’s thirst for information.

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

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

“They aren’t even trying to hide it anymore.”

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

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

The title alone was enough to floor him.

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

It was much worse than a simple leak in information.

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

“Looks like there’s a leak that needs fixing…”

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

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

This experience was what made him very picky about the intelligence agents he worked with. The general was confident that he put more effort into his collection of information and analysis when proposing this plan compared to his colleagues.

“But I guess I’m no match for the pros.”

He couldn’t hold back his grimace.

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

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

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

The Empire had no infrastructure for waging systematic information warfare…

“Those damn Commonwealth spies. Nothing is out of their reach.”

Lieutenant General Romel shook his head in frustration.

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

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

Every question was met with suspicion.

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

“Damn it, I can’t be sure of anything now, can I?”

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

Should he mobilize every intelligence agent they had?

“That won’t be enough.”

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

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

But how was he going to get the word out?

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Fucking hell!”

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

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

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

“With things as they are…”

It was no longer a matter of strategy.

It was something much simpler.

“Even Plan B may be…”

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

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

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

“…Ah, shit, shit, fucking shit.”

He almost felt like he could hear the blood draining audibly from his body. His vision blurred, and he just barely managed to hold on to a chair for support before finally falling. He found himself staring at the ceiling from the floor.

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

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

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

His biggest fear used to be making a mistake. But now that very notion was all but laughable. Simple planning mistakes didn’t matter at all anymore!

General Romel decided to try and smoke the anxiety out of himself. After failing a few times to get his cigarette lit, he just sat there with the butt wedged between his lips.

What a nightmare.

“Forget politics.”

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

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

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

No. The buck wouldn’t stop there.

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

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

“What if we have to fight Ildoa…?”

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

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

There was no feasible way for the Imperial Army to take on such a task.

The war was already long past a point where it was manageable for the Imperial Army to conduct any meaningful, decisive attacks. At this stage in the game, they had to put their full power into just maintaining the lines where they were.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

If forced to simultaneously fight Ildoa in the south, the battle would undoubtedly take place in the mountain range that separated the two countries. It wasn’t an environment suited for maneuver warfare, meaning if they were able to create a defensible base there, it would at least be expected to hold for some time.

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

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

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

“We’re barely holding out against the Commonwealth’s jabs as it is…”

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

Two fronts alone were already more than enough to cause fear for him.

While he feared for the future, a single idea crossed his mind.

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

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

“What if we hit them with a preemptive strike…?”

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

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

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

It was possible but also purely theoretical.

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

Impossible.

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

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

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

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

From behind the stain, the idea peeked its head a second time.

“Should we take them down while we…?”

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

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

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

“General Romel! I’d like to request an explanation from you!”

The little officer was filled to the brim with anger and resentment.

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

“Why were the enemies waiting for us?!”

Oh yes.

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

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

She’s absolutely right to be mad. He nodded and continued to grin.

“That’s an excellent question, Lieutenant Colonel Degurechaff. Would you like to know the answer?”

“Please, that’s exactly what I’m here to find out!”

“I don’t know.”

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

“What?”

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

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

“Either there’s a traitor among us, the enemy has deciphered our codes, or some form of human error. Which do you think is most likely?”

“If those are my three options, then I know exactly which it is.”

Just as he knew she would.

“If you think you know, then let’s hear your answer.”

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

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

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

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

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

“Could it not be you as well?”

“What? You think it’s me?”

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

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

“I’m just joking with you. You should get a hold of yourself, Colonel.”

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

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

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

Which meant…

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