Youjo Senki - Volume 10 - Chapter 6

[chapter] VI Hourglass

SEPTEMBER 2, UNIFIED YEAR 1927, IMPERIAL CAPITAL, GENERAL STAFF OFFICE

The deputy director’s office being enveloped in chaos was a strange sight to see. Though maybe not so strange given a more recent perspective…

There was no shortage of chaos in the Empire as of late.

On the battlefield, experience dictated that there exists a fog of war. Politics, however, were shrouded by a different kind of haze. When stuck in a situation where nobody could make heads or tails of anything, even the cleverer strategists couldn’t help but feel dull and slow-witted.

Having a vague yet smoldering irritation looming overhead wasn’t anything out of the ordinary for these people.

There was something different about the general mood that day, though.

“…Should we consider this good or bad news?”

The general gazed at his map with both of the aforementioned feelings in mind. Surrounded by a curtain of dark cigarette smoke, he exhaled slowly.

“I haven’t had a smoke this good in quite a while now.”

The reason for this deliberation came from the east. That hound Zettour had pulled off a major win on the eastern front, greatly extending the Empire’s atrophied life span in that theater.

He nursed the front back to life, pulling off an unprecedented counterattack.

The operation he dubbed a revolving door pushed their line back to where they needed it to be. It was a massive development, so much so that the other officers were already joking about Zettour’s “forward advance” being a double entendre for his inevitable promotion.

“That con artist. It makes me remember the old days. He always acted so scholarly, despite being the most ruthless of us all.”

Reminiscing about his old friend and their past brought a smile to the general’s face. It had been a while since he felt good while looking down at a map. This advance proved that through good strategy, it was possible to turn the tables on the war, despite being so hopelessly outnumbered. It was like a small beacon of hope for the downtrodden General Staff Office.

Though a beacon…it didn’t change the fact that the country was in a rut.

“All that being said, this is as far as his tricks can get us.”

The curt comment slipped out as his shaking hand reached for some tobacco. Even Zettour’s best efforts only amounted to a tactical victory on the battlefield.

Winning battles was always a good thing, but this also highlighted the pitiful condition of their war effort.

It was also a feat that no one else could have pulled off. He could leave the eastern front in Zettour’s hands. This drew a great deal of pressure off the general.

Albeit…not enough to provide him with any real breathing room while he had to wheel and deal in the capital. The man was exhausted. Physically, yes, of course—but even more so mentally! He was at his wit’s end with all the mental stress he had accumulated.

It didn’t help that he had to deal with political affairs, something he was not well versed in.

“I can only hope those two pull through for me.”

There was a tone of self-deprecation in his voice.

Bureaucrats worked for the bureaucracy, and politicians only have themselves in mind, while the members of parliament simply made demands, and the imperial family had its own ambitions and schemes.

They each abided by their own schools of thought and vernacular, making it difficult to stay on the same page with any given group at any given time. There was nothing more difficult for a strategist than working with people who operated under fundamentally different logic. It often involved too much pointless arguing.

It felt like the general was constantly walking on a tightrope.

He had a war to fight, and yet all the superfluous bureaucracy was really testing the integrity of his blood vessels.

“How much longer am I going to have to keep this up…?”

The idle complaint escaped his lips, and without even realizing it, the general was striking the core of the problem at hand.

They had won again in the east, and despite their loss in the west, their efforts there forced their enemies to stay on their toes. The Empire had managed to prove to the world that they wouldn’t go down easily or without a fight…at least not for now.

Looking at it another way, that was all they’d accomplished.

The entire nation was walking on dangerously thin ice. Lieutenant General Rudersdorf shrouded a sigh in heavy cigarette smoke as he thought deeply about the situation.

They needed more time.

Sadly, the Empire’s hourglass had run out of sand long ago. The only way they were going to get any more was to flip the entire hourglass over.

Though the real problem was the fact that they were stuck in an hourglass in the first place.

“…The army needs to engage in total war under one commander.”

Zettour’s success in the east sang this tune louder than anything else.

It proved that through well-executed strategy, the Imperial Army could remain an untouchable superpower.

General Romel’s failure in the west also served as an important lesson as well.

The Imperial Army was incapable of pulling off a victory on an unfamiliar battlefield without proper coordination.

The difference in outcome between the two battles was far too great. It painted a very clear picture for Rudersdorf’s inner strategist.

“We need a single chain of command.”

The army needed more than its General Staff Office. The country needed a Supreme Army Command that controlled the entire war from one point. It needed to operate independently of Supreme High Command, parliament, the imperial family, and the will of the people.

“These factors are what keep us tied down.”

He silently smoked a cigar after switching over from cigarettes for a change of pace but found himself more preoccupied with a new idea in the corner of his mind.

Could they win with a single chain of command in charge of everything? It wasn’t certain. Nevertheless, it was a way to speed things up—a way to end these tightrope shenanigans and allow the army to wield their limited time and resources…

The question of necessity flashed through Lieutenant General Rudersdorf’s mind before he grimaced with an uneasy chuckle.

“I shouldn’t get ahead of myself…”

He was about to carelessly make a decision on a troubling matter.

Plan B was still a contingency plan.

They still had Counselor Conrad to rely on and a possible road to peace through Ildoa. No matter how slim the odds were, Plan B would always have to take the back seat as long as there was a chance for the Empire to extract itself from all of this.

“I can’t let my imagination get too out of hand. I know Zettour needs his overactive imagination to come up with those tricks of his on the battlefield. It’s something I thought I’d never have to entertain, though.”

He tries to shrug the notion off with a laugh, but it stubbornly lingered.

The idea has planted itself in his mind.

An idea for the worst-case scenario. A scheme for what the country would look like under martial law, should it come to that. An emergency solution. One with decent prospects for success, at that.

Though…it wasn’t something any sane soldier who pledged their loyalty to the imperial family and the fatherland could follow through on without losing control of themselves.

He almost wanted to read a mystery novel, anything to take his mind off all this.

Although—that said—be that as it may…

Lieutenant General Rudersdorf mulled over the bomb sent to him from the west.

“There are too many issues to deal with, starting with General Romel’s emergency report.”

He received a warning from the general via a sealed message hand-delivered by an officer. Cigar in mouth, he thought about the problem long and hard, but not unlike the smoke in the air around him, it wouldn’t disappear.

Though the warning was more like a hunch, the grounds for his hunch were highly concerning.

The warning stated that it was likely their encryption had been broken. A devastatingly shocking notion should it be even partially true.

The mere potential for a problem like this was more than enough to make the general tremble. He needed to audit the codes… Confirming each branch of the military, each with its own practices, would entail an immense undertaking, but it absolutely had to be done.

He didn’t even want to think about the chances of there being a spy in the Empire. Simply listing all the various possibilities didn’t help to single out any of the actual problems!

“I really hope there isn’t a traitor among us. Though I suppose it would be a much more serious problem if they really had managed to decipher our codes. Either way, this is…”

A dispute regarding their top-secret information was a major setback.

To make matters worse, Lieutenant General Rudersdorf had no way of knowing whether his codes really could be trusted.

The Commonwealth had incredible intelligence-gathering capabilities. As much as he didn’t want to admit it, the Empire was behind the rest of the world when it came to espionage.

It was the Albion chaps he was dealing with. The Empire was like a child when it came to intel compared to its contemporaries.

How frightening a concept intelligence was. It would be fatal for a sense of distrust to permeate its way through the army. For better or for worse, the Imperial Army had little to no experience when it came to holding its own in suspicions and investigating doubts.

Could they even pull off a Plan B in a situation like this…?

He considered abandoning the situation that could trigger Plan B in the first place. Either way, he needed to plan for the worst or else it was over for the Empire. As a strategist, it was his duty to have a plan for any given worst-case scenario.

And Lieutenant General Rudersdorf always carried out his duty earnestly.

“We can’t be sure about the state of the army, for internal and external reasons.”

He held his cigar in one hand. He knew that there was no going back.

The fatherland, the Empire, had killed too many of its young. The grief of those who lost loved ones was a tremendous weight on his shoulders—like a curse.

Lieutenant General Rudersdorf had an explicit self-awareness of the obligation he owed the countless number of men and women who had given their lives believing in their country’s ultimate victory.

They believed in the Empire—in the Reich.

This was why he took it upon himself to consider every possible avenue and implement a solution he thought was best. No matter what the outcome was. He would do what needed to be done when it needed to be done…even if it meant initiating Plan B.

“…We’ll have to see how Ildoa moves.”

As resentful as the situation was, the fate of the Empire depended on their ambiguous treaty with Ildoa. The Ildoans held the key to this war. How it ended for the Empire was entirely at their discretion.

What an unpleasant position it was to be in.

The Ildoans had maintained their neutrality since the outset of the war and were one of the few countries that continued to provide the long-embargoed Empire limited but still much-needed support.

Their neutrality on the global stage made them an obvious choice for brokering a peace treaty. If there was any country that could take the reins in negotiations…it was surely Ildoa and no one else.

The issue was that Ildoa was in an incredibly advantageous geographical position.

They were adjacent to the mainland of the Empire and were a global player in their own right but had yet to exchange blows with the Empire during this great war.

Although a formality, the Royal Ildoan Army was a beloved ally of the Imperial Army. And though their alliance contained offensive and defensive clauses, Ildoa remained a bat that flitted from side to side while only ever settling somewhere in the ambiguous middle…which was why the idea of prodding the bat with a stick and then unleashing a horde on them was a horrifying one.

Ildoa was too valuable an asset to both sides. The person in charge of the treaty wouldn’t be able to hide their tears of despair if they lost access to the supplies they received from Ildoa along with the strategic buffer they provided geographically. Both the Empire and its enemies pored over every statement Ildoa put out, trying to discern their true intentions.

For the Empire, the core of the issue laid less in their intent and more in their ability to carry out decisive action.

“Ildoa is…too dangerous a country for the Empire.”

The two-front war was already a nightmare. They wouldn’t be able to handle yet another front while they were bogged down in the bloody trenches of the east. Such a task would surely be beyond any miracle the great, soon-to-be General Zettour could pull out of his proverbial hat.

Not to speak like the man, but should this war continue for much longer, the Empire wouldn’t have any more bullets, supplies, or people left. This was something Zettour said often, and he was right. The Empire needed to avoid the unavoidable and impending bankruptcy at all costs.

The problem was, the right decision wasn’t always the best one during times of war.

“I’d like to keep them as an ally if at all possible. But…are they foolish enough to share our fate in this terrible war?”

The Ildoans were far too clever to abandon their own interests to fight on the front lines in the name of neighborly love.

Their military was in control, and they were far more logical than they were friendly.

Their highest priority was to avoid getting caught up in a war in the first place by maintaining their neutrality. This meant that the Empire theoretically shouldn’t have to worry about the country throwing their mutual treaty into the garbage and advancing north. The Ildoans weren’t altruistic enough to hurl themselves into the war for either side.

“And that’s exactly why they can’t be ignored.”

The simple truth was that the Ildoans were loyal to themselves first and foremost. They would maintain their neutrality for as long as the Empire had a fighting chance in this war.

Their dedication to remaining neutral was unparalleled.

For the Empire, they couldn’t do any more but hope this was the case. For the Empire’s enemies, however, it was very possible for them to bring the Ildoans to their side. Even if the Empire figured out a way to solve the persistent issue of Ildoan territorial disputes, the final results would likely remain the same.

Ildoa would lose a reason to stay neutral the moment the Empire showed obvious weakness. Therefore, in order to keep them at their current state of vague neutrality, it was imperative for the Empire to maintain its unbeatable image, continuing to fortify its borders and keep the Ildoans believing that war against the Empire was too risky.

“It won’t be possible. Things are going to fall apart.”

The Empire was still in the fight for another few months.

They could manage another half year, maybe even a full year if they did absolutely everything possible.

But there was no way for them to win.

If there were no signs Counselor Conrad could pull through with the negotiations, preventative measures may have to be taken.

“As backward as it may seem, there’s still time.”

They could hit Ildoa before they could tell what was coming. It would involve pulling firepower from the east and occupying the Ildoan peninsula. It was a way to acquire defense in depth and fortify their southern border.

He knew bringing Ildoa into the war was a terrible idea and that it was only a way to prolong the inevitable collapse their country faced. But if such an attack truly could prolong said collapse…then surely it was worth consideration. In that light, it suddenly started to seem more than worth it.

“It must be done… I must carry out my duty.”

If it was time he was after, he was going to have to get his hands dirty… And he had at most a year to get moving.

In the east, there was a victor. A victor who had pulled off a multitude of incredible military feats.

A victor with a cynical grin on his face—Lieutenant General Zettour—laughed at the likelihood that his medal and general insignia would arrive at any minute while he scanned a large map spread across his desk.

The map, filled to the brim with details and notes, now reached much farther east than before. Foreign news outlets weren’t subtle about hiding their shock with what they considered the Empire going back on the offensive, but…reality proved much less magical and heartening than the newspapers.

“We’ve won this battle. But our front line is about as solid as a house of cards.”

The map told the whole story. The truth was that the Imperial Army was barely holding on, and it had only just managed to create a new foothold for itself.

The Federation Army had lost this position, but it was more or less akin to pruning a massive tree. It wouldn’t take long for a thick tree trunk to force its way back into this territory. After all, the massive tree that was the Federation still held on to its ground quite firmly.

The Empire’s tree, on the other hand, only showed further signs of its wilting and steady decline.

It was a problem, and the entire Empire was racking their brain to think of every solution they could to fill this gap. Ingenuity was no longer enough to win this war. This was why they were faced with a pressing need to prune the land around them and why they created the Council for Self-Government. Zettour had used all his intelligence and ability to get that up and running.

He even had the council prepare a volunteer division for him, a testament to his diligent, hard work. They needed to create something out of nothing. The general thought about how much of a con artist he had become.

In terms of manpower, however, the most he would receive were two or three divisions. That was the absolute limit. He didn’t even dare dream for the number of divisions to reach the double digits.

The Federation, on the other hand, was mobilizing fresh divisions by the dozens.

“This difference in manpower is enough to make me sick… Strategy can only get us so far against such an overwhelming difference in numbers.”

Lieutenant General Zettour reached for his cheap military tobacco while he reviewed the telegram that contained details for his promotion to general. He always thought the reluctance to recklessly use high-ranking officers on the front lines was a sign of a healthy military. Now he was a general, which ignored all protocols about the front lines. The stars seem to carry much less weight to them now.

He’d heard before somewhere that losing armies produce high-ranking officers en masse… He never imagined he’d experience such a trend in the Empire.

Keeping this ironic anecdote to himself, he begrudgingly turned his attention to something he wished he could ignore.

It was the map, and it showed how many reinforcements the Federation Army had been able to bring up from the rear juxtaposed against his own sparsely populated front line. The glaring lack of soldiers was more than evident along his entire line.

And to make things worse…there was evidence that the enemy was bolstering their forces wherever his line seemed weakest.

“Are those Communists better than an old bag like me?”

Zettour rubbed his chin. All he could do was give a sardonic laugh at this unforgiving reality. No matter how many times he won individual battles, there wasn’t a single sign that they could win the war.

How many more times did he have to annihilate his enemies and drive them from before him?

At the start of the war, the Empire had to deal with about two hundred Federation divisions. The general knew that he had eradicated most, if not all, of them.

Despite this, there was a very solid wall of yet another two hundred Federation divisions facing off against the Imperial Army. It was impossible to keep up the ruse that the Empire had the troops to match.

In order to level out the playing field, he waged battles against enemy divisions in groups of ten, even twenty at a time, and came away victorious every time.

Despite his best efforts, the Federation showed no sign of suffering personnel shortages.

To top it all off, their tactics were steadily getting better, too. It was a slow, grinding battle of attrition at this point, and the Imperial Army was no longer able to keep up with the rate of losses. They currently had one hundred and fifty divisions manning their line in the east. Most of these divisions were already worryingly understrength.

The war had gone on for too long. Far too long. The Empire was coming apart at the seams and would soon tear beyond the point where repair was still possible.

Total war was nothing more than the foolish act of using your own home as tinder to keep a flame going. An illogical act demanded by a necessity that was dictated by military rationale and a little devil known as his country’s raison d’état. From the front line, it almost seemed to Lieutenant General Zettour like he was in an hourglass full of sand, which was made out of the future his ancestors had left behind—sand that was steadily funneling to the bottom.

He needed to put a stop to this.

“I know what I must do, but…”

He rubbed his temples as he privately grieved on the inside.

I’m well aware that something needs to change! This was exactly why he remained silent while the military’s Plan B slowly materialized behind the scenes.

He knew what he could and should do, and he was prepared to carry out his duty if push came to shove.

“I know this for a fact.”

He knew that it was all in the name of necessity. It wasn’t only he who knew this; it was everyone in the military.

They had to pay for whatever future they had with the blood of the young. It was an immense burden to carry.

Anyone stationed on the eastern front was overcome with a pervasive sense of unease. They all searched for a silver bullet, craving a way out of this like addicts craving opium. Nevertheless, the general couldn’t help but laugh at a life worth of training spent to become a senior staff officer.

His training forced him to recognize how pointless it was to think in the short term.

It was still possible to continue piling the lives of their young into this war. If this was what they were going to do, then he would pile on as many as he needed to—even make a fortress out of bodies if that was what the situation called for—so long as it would buy him time. This was the mindset of a senior staff officer… He knew that his country had gone too far.

“I used to think I was a good person, but look at me now.”

He could hardly consider himself good in any sense of the word.

Realizing this was the first step in making the heady decision. He said, “Even a well-meaning senior staff officer is still a part of an evil organization… My desire to be good is overshadowed by the fact that I’m an officer. I see that now. It is we who are the chimera the Empire has given birth to.”

Necessity.

This word was all it took for an officer to make his move without even a moment’s hesitation. They were no longer people but cogs in the war machine.

“…I can’t fool myself any longer.”

He took a moment to think about how he always thought of himself as a good person. On the eastern front, he has framed himself as an officer who knew what to do and how to get the job done.

He didn’t know when, but at some point, he found himself recognizing a handful of other officers, who had been willing to dirty their hands alongside him on the eastern front, as superior to their peers. The first person who came to mind was Lieutenant Colonel Degurechaff.

He always recognized her military prowess, but he realized that this may have been because she wasn’t a run-of-the-mill soldier.

Lieutenant General Zettour gave a small but very clear chuckle.

Oh, I see, he thought.

So it’s that simple.

He laughed at how ridiculous it all was.

“A regular soldier would have hit their limits on the eastern front long ago…”

The officers who had gone through nothing more than standard training retained their path back to humanity.

What if, though, it took a rational machine—not a human—to reliably fight in this all-out war? It more than explained why an overly theoretical person such as himself would get promoted to general this easily.

“This is why they’re throwing these stars around.”

This meant that his wicked logic and rationale was valued more than the good nature of his peers. This wickedness of his was a sort of emergency measure, but he had to accept that it was becoming the norm for him.

The reason for this was simple as well.

“We can’t win in the east. We need more of…everything.”

The animals known as senior staff officers were monsters—monsters that had the heart and soul of the Empire poured into them. They were absurdities brought to life for the purpose of making the impossible possible. Give this creature a lever, and they shall move the world.

There existed, however, far too few of these monsters.

To make more of them…they needed an ideal vessel that had the potential to become one. The officers were chosen after being filtered out by a rigorous series of trials at the war college—there was no hope for them to pump out more anytime soon.

All said and done, it was a serious conundrum. It would be impossible to turn the entire army into monsters. But their inability to do exactly that would bring the war to a screeching halt. They could no longer hope for an all-out victory in a war like this.

“At this point, I take it we have only politics to rely on.”

They could continue to fight. They may be able to pull off a win here and there. While they did this, though, what they really needed was victories off the battlefield.

But…was this feasible?

It could have meant they would have to eventually accept their defeat. This was the world of politics.

Even if they lost, if they could keep their defeat at a figurative score of fifty-one to forty-nine… If they had only lost by a margin of two points on a scale of a hundred, could he convince his inner strategist that it was a technical victory?

Zettour had spent most of his career as a strategist fixated on victory and defeat.

“…That idiot Rudersdorf probably wouldn’t accept these terms. I’d wager it’s a fifty-fifty chance he does.”

He was a soldier who was quick to seize an opportunity. The man had thorough and extensive knowledge of how to fight and win a war. Zettour was no stranger to this—it was what he and the other officers had obsessed over at the war college.

When it came to military operations, Zettour doubted he could outmaneuver Rudersdorf. This was why he wasn’t worried about the war itself.

He would happily let Rudersdorf fight it.

The waters got murkier, however, when politics became a part of the equation. In this regard, while there were grounds to be hopeful…Zettour’s primary concern with Rudersdorf was his career.

It was a fine difference but a difference Zettour had some experience in navigating.

“He does have a habit of always giving orders with the worst possible timing.”

The terrible truth was that the general had spent too much time in the General Staff Office focusing purely on strategy. While Zettour knew he was no exception to this, generals who were forged as senior staff officers were a unique bunch.

Needless to say, he never let this fact go to his head. But he was only human, and sadly for him, he was constrained by his personal experiences and the environment he grew up in.

The biggest factor was how outstanding the man was as a strategist. He wasn’t going to stand for failure.

Zettour knew full well he was a second-rate general and that Rudersdorf’s style of command was the genuine product. In other words, even though he himself knew there was room for cooperation…he questioned whether his friend knew how to achieve objectives with anything besides force.

He shook his head, which was starting to hurt.

Zettour could only hope that his concern would turn out to be all for nothing and that one day the two could joke about it over drinks someday.

“I’ll have to send him a letter… I’ll need a political officer to send it as well.”

It’d be better if I could talk to him face-to-face.

Unfortunately, the distance and their respective positions presented a logistical hurdle that prevented them from doing this. It was easy for him to send messages about sharing his expert opinion on military affairs pertaining to each other’s positions…but they couldn’t converse about the deadly toxin that manifested itself in Plan B through official channels.

Ah.

The general realized something for the first time.

“I could never really guess what that man was thinking.”

Though Zettour always thought of Rudersdorf as a friend, he truly was unpredictable. Whatever he was planning, it was beyond the imagination of the future general stationed in the east.

Lieutenant Colonel Tanya von Degurechaff had simple desires. She only wished for things that most humans probably desired as well.

To speak in concrete terms, she sought out the maximization of utility and the freedom of the pursuit of happiness.

Her recent encounters included a dogfight with some insane Commonwealth marine mage in the east. Then, when she made it to the west, General Romel hit her with a nasty mission. Though this annoyed her, she carried out her duty—only to find that same crazy mage was waiting for her there as well.

“What is he? Some kind of creepy stalker?”

As disturbing as the thought was, there was some rationale behind it.

The truth was that the enemy had been following them around the continent. There was something off about that multinational volunteer unit. It made Tanya dizzy just thinking about it.

She felt like her clear, healthy mind was being put through an industrial-grade milling machine.

“…I need a vacation.”

Tanya grumbled to herself out loud, but her own remark became fuel for a new realization.

For better or for worse, there was a strong underlying François element to the part of the western territory where they were currently stationed—and it still retained a semblance of civilization. Save for the occasional bombings that could be heard in the distance here and there…it was like heaven compared to the east.

There was plumbing, electricity, and even a bed. Not to mention the food, which was to die for. The point being, it was the perfect place to enjoy the bare minimum civilization had to offer.

Above all, the most important detail was that General Romel’s plan to storm the Commonwealth had hit a roadblock, leaving Tanya with absolutely nothing to do.

“Maybe, just maybe…”

I could take a moment for myself. As soon as that thought passed through her mind, the young, battle-hardened aerial magic officer moved like the wind without a moment’s hesitation. Tanya was already well versed in writing up and processing government documents. She didn’t even require the help of her adjutant as she whipped up the requisite forms and used her own authority to give herself the final stamp of approval, officially going on a vacation.

All that was left to do was quietly submit the documents. Tanya found her adjutant at her battalion’s camp, which also acted as their Kampfgruppe’s command center.

“First Lieutenant Serebryakov! I will be taking the day off today!”

“Um…” Her adjutant cocked her head with a confused look about her. “Taking the day off?”

“That’s right—I’m not working today!”

Her adjutant clapped her hands and smiled in a way that suggested she’d forgotten about the concept of time off.

“…That’s unusual of you, Colonel.”

“What is?”

“No, I just figured that you haven’t taken a day for yourself in so long.”

Having this pointed out to her made Tanya laugh out loud. Her aide was right, of course. Tanya couldn’t even remember the last time she had taken out the vacation stamp to authorize her own time off.

There weren’t many opportunities to take time off in the first place, given the circumstances.

She had been sent from the east to the west to the capital…and excluding her little excursion to the south in Ildoa, she hadn’t had a real vacation in so, so long.

“There is a problem within our battalion of people not using their paid time off. This isn’t limited to only me.”

“We’ve been managing to make enough time for ourselves to sleep, but we haven’t been able to get any rest beyond that for a while now.”

Tanya gave a firm nod.

She looked at all the faces in the command tent. They all resembled her own. Why wouldn’t they? The mage battalion wasn’t normally given enough time to rest properly in the first place.

On top of this, they were only the Lergen Kampfgruppe in name. The reality was that the Kampfgruppe revolved around the 203rd Aerial Mage Battalion, which was used in whichever theater they happened to be needed. Even the most loyal soldier would want to apply for leave at some point.

Of course, Tanya was too concerned with self-preservation to ever admit this aloud. That wasn’t to say she’d stop herself from affirming the notion with an exaggerated nod should the topic present itself.

“Behold, Visha. Now is the time for me, your commanding officer, to set an example for the rest of the battalion. If I don’t take time off, there’s no way my subordinates ever will.”

Pretending to be a manager who cared could really take a toll on a girl… She needed to play the part, though.

As far as she could judge by her aide’s response, her statement was received fairly well.

“…Our battalion does tend to skip out on vacation time.”

Were her subordinates overly serious by nature, or had they given up on the idea of taking time off after being at war for so long? They were always on point about taking a turn on the watch rotation, but when it came to taking time off, the mage battalion was incredibly lackadaisical.

If Tanya didn’t take the initiative to take time off, then her subordinates never would, either… The fact that Tanya was wrestling with this notion at all was a clear sign that she and her battalion were terminal workaholics. As far as Tanya could tell, though, it could simply be that their collective concept of paid time off had been pounded out of them by artillery fire on the battlefield.

Well, you know why… She let out another sharp laugh.

The entire command center’s ears perked up at Tanya’s mention of taking a day off, and suddenly each and every one of them had glimmering eyes.

“If I take a day off, will the entire Kampfgruppe follow suit all at once?”

She glared back at her subordinates, and the collective glimmer quickly vanished. Oh my, it looked like her subordinates were still humans after all. This was a good sign.

“It appears everyone has been holding back.”

Tanya’s adjutant interjected with a vague expression after her superior’s assertion.

“If we can take time off, we would like to as well. If now is our chance, then I…don’t mind processing any applications as well. Do you think it would be a problem, ma’am?”

“There’s no problem at all. Though I suspect you all were able to rest a bit back at the capital… You have a right to your vacation time. If you can use it, feel free to do so.”

Each and every member of her battalion did far more work than their salaries justified. While it was a bit late in the game for this, it was Tanya and the 203rd Aerial Mage Battalion’s right to apply for their earned time off.

Rights are important, after all. If there was such a thing as an inviolable sanctuary, Tanya knew that it could be nothing other than an individual’s rights. This was a given throughout history. A country that couldn’t respect an individual’s rights…naturally didn’t respect their rights to own property, either. In other words, they would become Commies.

Her subordinates were hesitant. No one was getting up and saying, I’ll take my day off, too! That was somewhat concerning to see. It was strange for someone who worked at command to suppress their desire for vacation.

Unlike an exploitative corporation…Tanya intended to respect the rights of her workers.

“Troops, you don’t need to feel guilty. Rather than workers who hide their discomfort as they work, I’d prefer workers who get their job done after taking an appropriate amount of time off for themselves. Does anyone disagree?”

Tanya’s words encouraged her subordinates in just the right way.

One after the other, the applications for time off begin to pile up on her desk. Some of the more intuitive soldiers even gave her their application without the date filled in. And so Tanya, together with her adjutant, began the task of processing the mountain of applications.

To her surprise, applications had poured in from the entire Kampfgruppe.

She figured at least Major Weiss would stick around… Every application spelled out exactly how they intended to spend their time off, whether it be going home or taking a short personal trip. It appeared Tanya’s soldiers were aware of her strong relationship with the General Staff Office and figured she could squeeze them for all sorts of travel subsidies. It shouldn’t be too difficult considering she could make the necessary arrangements with the Railroad Department. She’d be able to make the best arrangements for the applications that involved long-distance travel through the benevolence of Lieutenant Colonel Uger.

That said, if they didn’t have any seats available for military use, it was going to cost them money. With a sigh, Tanya commanded her adjutant to use the battalion’s secret funds to fill in the gaps.

Is it okay for us to do this? It was clear what Tanya’s adjutant was trying to communicate to her with her eyes.

“Mages are the military’s greatest asset, so we can’t neglect to do whatever we can to keep them rested and in good spirits. Therefore, mark the classified funds as maintenance and repair expenses.”

“I’ll take care of it, ma’am.”

Tanya nodded before standing up from her chair. Now that her subordinates’ applications were taken care of, it was time for her to enjoy her own time off.

“Finally, I can get some time to relax.”

“That’s for sure, but…as a lieutenant colonel, isn’t the most you can do just lounging around in the barracks?”

That much was true. For a commanding officer to leave their post, they needed authorization from a much higher place… Tanya would just have to get that later. It wasn’t as if she didn’t have access to Colonel Lergen’s stamp, but were she to use it here, it could lead to problems down the line.

“While I take a small break here, I’ll send my actual application for real time off to the Western Army Group. For now, I’m going to leave the command center and spend some time in the barrack’s lounge. Does that sound uncivilized to you? I feel the ability to use what little freedom I have is a decent way to lift my mood.”

Tanya rejoiced on the inside at the idea of not having to worry about work for a day.

“In fact, what do you think about me treating you to some coffee?”

“I’d love to join you, ma’am.”

“Adjutant, this is a special occasion. Why not take the day for yourself as well?”

In response to Tanya’s invitation, however, Visha said something that showed just how deeply she’d been influenced by the Imperial Army’s work culture.

“Accompanying you makes this a part of my official duties, no?”

“Your point being?”

“I’ll abandon my post and join you.”

That’s what I thought, Tanya thinks as she bursts into laughter. To think, this is the same adjutant who once openly cried before her on the Rhine front. Tanya never imagined that she’d say something like this.

“I guess it’s a soldier’s duty is to always be on point. You’ve become quite the dependable adjutant.”

“Um, are you sure it’s okay for me to leave my post…?”

“Of course it’s not. I’ll authorize it for you.”

A person who uses their rights appropriately deserves recognition and praise. Tanya adored the harm principle from the bottom of her heart. Almost as much she believed in the sanctity of private property.

As they made their way to the lounge, First Lieutenant Serebryakov clapped her hands as if she’s remembered something crucial.

“Oh, that’s right. Captain Meybert prepared a gift for us when we arranged that meeting with him before the battle! Let’s enjoy it with our coffee! I’ll go get it!”

Tanya’s adjutant ran off but soon returned with a few cans labeled Imperial Navy Pineapples.

“These are…canned navy rations?”

“He said to think of it as a form of hush money from the submarine Fleet Command. He wants us to keep quiet about the mistake the commanders at that harbor made.”

Oh, that incident. Tanya knew what the captain wanted her to keep her mouth shut about. It was that time that amateur navy personnel failed to defend his own port. Colonel Lergen was livid when he tried to shirk responsibility for it.

“A bribe? How shameful.”

She picked up a can and ascertained that the pineapples were soaked in delicious syrup.

“We’d better dispose of all evidence before anyone finds out.”

“Affirmative!”

And that was how the two of them gathered whatever treats they could find before convening in the lounge, where Tanya and First Lieutenant Serebryakov had a small coffee break.

They spread out their collections of edibles on the lounge table. It was a collection of cultural goods.

Tanya slowly picked up the finest coffee beans she had to offer and hand roasted them in a frying pan. First Lieutenant Serebryakov skillfully prepared them with a grinder. They then steamed the ground beans with boiled water before Tanya’s adjutant expertly poured the enchanting black liquid into their cups.

The now-uncanned Imperial Navy pineapples tasted unbelievably delicious as well.

Tanya wore a big smile on her face, thoroughly enjoying this moment. Her adjutant, who sat comfortably next to her, showed a slightly serious expression before raising a question.

“Is it okay if I ask you something?”

“What’s that?”

“Well…I wanted to ask where this war is going.”

The question caught Tanya off guard. She flashed a scowl as if the sweet pineapple wedge in her mouth suddenly turned sour.

The war was the last thing she wanted to talk about during her precious time off.

“That’s a peculiar question to ask.”

“Well, there aren’t many opportunities to ask you these sorts of questions one-to-one, so…”

Tanya couldn’t reprimand the young woman for politely asking her opinion. It was a chance for two officers to share what they thought without the rank and file watching.

She felt it was probably better to be frank with her, at least to a certain extent.

“I wouldn’t dwell too much on it… Right now, our highest priority is making sure we all make it out alive.”

“Is that how you feel, Colonel?”

“A war can only be ended through victory. As far as I can tell, there isn’t anyone fighting right now intending to lose. However…”

Tanya took a breath, and then a sip of her scrumptious Ildoan coffee, before saying what had to be said.

“We are soldiers. Well, in your case, you were supposed to be a conscript before you eventually joined up of your own accord… And of course there were certain circumstances that went into your decision to do so…”

“I’m an officer, ma’am. I joined for the same reasons as everybody else.”

First Lieutenant Serebryakov nodded to Tanya. They were both the same in this regard. As civil servants, they were the instruments of their nation’s sovereignty. It would’ve been nice if they could receive their pay for little to no work like run-of-the-mill civil servants, but they had to earn their pay in full unfortunately. Despite Tanya being against slavery, considering the sheer volume of unpaid overtime hours she and Visha had put into their jobs, they were effectively a pair of quintessential public servants.

Tanya shook her head and focused back on the topic at hand.

“For soldiers who are conscripted, they have a place to go home when the war ends. For a soldier who enlists, however, they’re seen as throwing their lot in with the military. Being an officer is much tougher than you may think.”

“Um, what do you mean by this?”

“We aren’t privileged with the option of death, however sweet a release it may be. We’re here on our own accord, so we need to fight until the very end. That is why we need to survive through this war.”

There was nothing more important than their lives. For Tanya, the idea of escaping one’s fate through suicide was something she’d never be able to understand no matter how much time passed.

“Are you saying that we can’t win?”

“I’m not one to partake in wishful thinking. I highly doubt that we’ll lose, though.”

“…What?”

“What’s that, Lieutenant? Are you a defeatist?”

“N-n-no, but…”

Her adjutant looked completely bewildered. Tanya pegged her for a dualist—the type that felt naturally inclined to define everything in terms of black and white. It was a suitable personality for a 203rd mage. Tanya’s soldiers were always facing the two extremes in the form of life and death. She decided to take this opportunity to teach her adjutant a small lesson.

“This is a good chance for us to figure this out, then.” Tanya placed her coffee onto the desk with a soft tap and then pointed at Visha before continuing, “You ask if we can win this war? The answer to that is, we won’t know until we try. But I can assure you that we won’t lose.”

“…Is there some secret way for us to turn the war around in the works?”

Come on now, Lieutenant, Tanya almost blurts out at her adjutant.

Turn the war around? You’re killing me, Visha!

Tanya could feel her brow furrowing on the inside at her adjutant’s remark. It wasn’t something she should reprimand the young woman for, but the idea that they needed to turn the war around was already a clear sign of her doubt in the military.

In other words, even First Lieutenant Serebryakov recognized that the odds were stacked against the Imperial Army.

“Lieutenant, there’s no big secret. You just have to use your head.”

“Um… Could it be that there’s some groundbreaking new technology? You know, just like last time. When the Elinium Arms Factory pulled through for us!”

Tanya could feel a headache coming on just hearing mention of the damned place. She furrowed her actual brow this time.

If left to his own devices, the mad scientist Schugel creating some odd invention wasn’t entirely out of the question. Tanya only hoped she would be entirely uninvolved if that ever came to pass.

Of course, that was neither here nor there… The real issue at hand was what the war stemmed from in the first place.

“There’s no secret weapon or plan or even a magic staff involved in this. Do you have any idea what I’m getting at?”

“P-please enlighten me, Colonel!”

Tanya didn’t intend on her remark to sound reprimanding, but it came off that way evidently, judging by the response she received. To think, this is supposed to be a private conversation between two off-duty soldiers.

“It’s simple. The answer is politics.”

War was just an extension of politics, after all. Though it was conducted through force of arms and open warfare, the fact that it was humans who were doing the fighting meant that politics would always be a part of the fundamental equation. Whether or not they won or lost, the greater battle would still be decided purely through political means. Tanya reiterates this point to First Lieutenant Serebryakov so that she won’t forget it.

“At the company level, victory and defeat is a simple thing to discern.”

“Right!”

Tanya lightly held her finger to her brow as she realized there was a pressing need to educate her soldiers a bit more. She needed to teach them more fundamental knowledge about things that weren’t directly related to war.

“Let’s look at battalions or regiments or even brigades and divisions. Victory is as clear-cut as the law of physics for any of these. But what happens when we look at a whole country? Pure military strength doesn’t dictate the victor when we get to this level.”

“So we have to think about how we execute our attack?”

“Yes, that is correct. Even animals use knowledge when they go on a hunt. Look no further than a pack of wolves.”

Her adjutant gave an eager nod of understanding when Tanya used this example. She happily popped another pineapple wedge into her mouth as she quickly came up with her conclusion.

“Oh, well, that’s simple, then.” First Lieutenant Serebryakov eagerly continued, “So whoever throws the strongest punch wins.”

“…First Lieutenant, it seems you are in dire need of reeducation. Let’s review. Look back at what you learned before you became an officer.”

“Um, uh… Oh, wait, Colonel. We’re on break, so let’s save this for later.”

“You’re still on duty.”

Ugh, her adjutant looked as if she was about to cry. Her tears weren’t something worth considering, though. One must pay for the mistakes one makes.

“I’m a commanding officer—I can’t let my soldiers slink off with insufficient knowledge. First Lieutenant, take some time to review your studies and come back to me with a report on the answer. That’s an order.”

Recognizing she was the one who brought this problem onto herself, Tanya’s adjutant’s eyes begged her for mercy… Unfortunately, Tanya used up all the mercy in her small body to grant her subordinates time off en masse.

Visha wouldn’t be working overtime on this—she was in luck.

Since it was an order…First Lieutenant Serebryakov returned to her post where she could spend her time on duty doing the homework she created for herself.

Although this left the person who bestowed the homework unto her in a very bad mood. For you see…the sad, fatal deficiency in the Empire had manifested itself in her adjutant’s lack of awareness.

The Empire relied far too much on the instrument of violence it has created.

“Visha’s ridiculous remark is a sign that the Empire thinks they can’t beat their way out of any problem.”

The Empire relied too much on its strength.

The fact that they have pretty much gotten by on that alone until now had set that paradigm into stone for the country.

If this nation had its Bismarck, there may have been another path for them to go down.

Oh, Bismarck.

You were truly a great man.

However did you manage to get the reins on your country during the unprecedented times of imperialism you lived in?! If only there was a diplomat half as capable as you in the Empire of today!

Tanya shook her head to clear her mind.

There likely was a Bismarck in the Empire. The saddest part was that she predicted the Empire would never be able to properly utilize such a person.

Tanya was almost certain of this prediction.

Her nation put jingoism on a pedestal and looked down on pessimism and cautiousness as cowardice.

The Empire subscribed to the school of thought that, as a victor, victory was the overarching imperative. Those who even considered defeat a possibility wouldn’t make it anywhere in the Empire.

In other words…for Tanya to maintain her career, she needed to channel everything toward achieving victory and nothing else.

Something that would prove to be an all but impossible challenge.

She still had her sights set on a job change and knew that she would probably have to start sooner rather than later. Nevertheless, she was a part of the military, and they were at war. The same way a company would fire an idiot who filled out a job application in their office chair, she knew she’d end up in front of a firing squad should the army catch wind of her ambitions.

She’d end up a literal stain on the execution grounds. Tanya wanted to end her life peacefully, singing the song of civil rights. The worst outcome for her would be one that would humor Being X.

Due to his stern military mannerisms and incredible gravitas as a leader, Lieutenant General Rudersdorf was often taken for an intrepid man. Most people outside of the military, who only worked with him superficially, thought of him this way.

From the perspective of a subordinate of his, such as Colonel Lergen, however…it wasn’t his intrepidness but his competence that made him a difficult man to work for.

He was ruthless with those he considered incompetent, and he was practically merciless in the way he brought out the best of what each of his subordinates had to offer—always asking for more than their best efforts.

He was definitely one of the most difficult high-ranking officers to serve under.

However, a portion of the blame should also be shouldered by the sheer importance of the weighty tasks entrusted to the General Staff Office. This deep-seated hatred for incompetence was a common trait shared among all the senior staff officers and wasn’t something unreasonable in itself. The general was even magnanimous enough to entertain the opinions of his subordinates. Though an abused direct subordinate himself, Colonel Lergen had to admit that while his superior had high standards, he could also be reasoned with.

The deputy director of the General Staff always needed to think with as clear a mind as humanly possible when it came to strategic planning. It was a given for anyone who worked under him in the Imperial Army.

This was why Lergen couldn’t shake the tremendous shock he felt when…he doubted the orders given to him by his superior.

That day, he’d find himself shell-shocked in the deputy director’s office where he was called.

“You wish for me to oversee the creation of a counter-insurrection plan for…the Empire?”

The title of the proposal used the word pacification, but Lergen knew how these things worked in real life and what it actually meant.

Regulations during times of war were growing increasingly strict, especially at this late stage. There was only one faculty that could move troops through the imperial capital at will.

“It is a contingency plan. We need to be prepared should a situation ever arise.”

It took Lergen all his might not to arch an eyebrow with each word that came out of his superior’s mouth. Despite this, Colonel Lergen took it upon himself as a career soldier to play the part of an expert and extended his opinion.

“General, with all due respect, I think this may be a bit overboard. It’s too early to be considering precautions such as these. I believe they are unnecessary where we currently stand.”

“Oh?”

His superior—the deputy director of the Imperial Army General Staff Office, Lieutenant General Rudersdorf—glared back at him…but Colonel Lergen held fast, concealing the cold sweat he felt pouring down his spine and keeping up his brazen appearance as he continued.

“Considering the political, civilian, and security conditions in the imperial capital as of this moment, I am confident there is no impending concrete threat. The most I can come up with is the potential for soldiers to revolt… But seeing as there’s virtually no chance of this happening, I’m left wondering why a plan such as this would be necessary.”

The colonel continued with grandiose terms, all a part of his act.

“As a strategist, my suggestion would be to send any troops used for law-and-order operations in the capital to the east or west as much-needed reinforcements.”

It was nothing short of a miracle that he was able to get all this out without tripping over his words. Or maybe the devil was watching him from somewhere with a grin.

Colonel Lergen suddenly felt overcome by a strange sensation the moment he finished his sentence. Why on earth was he being forced to engage in such sophistry in the Imperial Army General Staff Office in the first place?

“You have a point, Colonel.”

“Sir?”

Without a moment of thought, his superior nonchalantly nodded to Lergen before continuing.

“Very well, I won’t have you work on this plan.”

Lergen couldn’t hide the tension draining from his shoulders as his superior surprisingly agreed with him. Just as Colonel Lergen let down his guard, however, a second arrow came flying toward him in the shape of a cigar box.

A simple glance was enough to know the cigars were of the highest quality.

To be given this at a time when the General Staff Office was currently trying to figure out how to deal with the overseas embargo the Empire had been being hit with… The box was terrifying. What was his superior going to ask of him in return for a product of this caliber?

“Have a cigar.”

“I shall abstain, if you’ll allow me to.”

“Why so reluctant, Colonel Lergen? Let’s have a little chat since I have you here anyway.”

A little chat? Judging from his superior’s daily tendency to hate all things unnecessary, Lergen was overcome with an incredible sense of discomfort. While he respected his boss as a man of the military, Colonel Lergen was a senior staff officer.

There was a limit to how much he could pretend not to see, hear, and say.

“If it has to do with the military affairs, I’m at your service.”

Lieutenant General Rudersdorf silently listened to this formal response as he smoked his cigar. He lowered his head and fixed his eyes squarely on Lergen…until he eventually continued with a quiet voice.

“You should humor your superiors. Or are you unable to speak frankly?”

“I can exchange in banter with you as a soldier. But…I’m not the type who could ever be a yes-man.”

“That’s how every man should be.” The tension from the general’s lips loosened with a grin. “But there are merits and demerits to acting the right way.”

“…Sir?”

“Have a cigar. And pull up a chair while you’re at it.”

Lergen knew this meant he should prepare for the worst. He detested the audible gulp that escaped his throat. Forcing the stiff joints in his legs to move, Colonel Lergen slowly lowered himself into one of the chairs in the office.

Now that he was in this situation, he figured he’d make the most of it.

He opened the box and enjoyed the rich fragrance of a proper cigar for the first time in a long while.

It was much better than anything he was used to smoking, even more so than the cigars Counselor Conrad had procured for him during their meeting. So much for the Foreign Office being the epitome of the Empire’s sophistication. Colonel Lergen had no choice but to think about the irony that metaphor represented.

The army was more precious to the Empire than its Foreign Office. The country prioritized the military over diplomacy. If there was a direct correlation between this mindset and the caliber of cigars they could get their hands on…then how much poison was hidden away in the cigar he smoked that very moment?

“What would you like to talk about, sir?”

“What do you think of the current situation?”

“That we are still in the fight. And that there likely isn’t a way out of this beyond active and persistent diplomacy. Though it goes without saying that while we will require the help of Ildoa, the Empire needs to be the one to initiate the negotiations.”

His superior nodded in agreement, causing Colonel Lergen even more discomfort. Though he couldn’t quite describe it, he knew there was something hidden behind his superior’s assent.

His superior would continue speaking before he could figure out what that hidden meaning was, though.

“Our biggest problem is time.”

With an exasperated scowl, the general mentioned their greatest challenge.

“Our country is slowly but surely bleeding out. We’ll be dead before long. That is the situation we’re currently facing. If we don’t close this wound soon, a prolonged death is all that awaits us.”

“I feel that if you force an exhausted patient to do fruitless labor, chances are the shock will simply kill them sooner.”

“Your point being? What, does that mean you’d give up on the patient?”

“I feel like it’d be best for such a surgery to only be considered after a period of reduced activity if their wounds are critical. Even if the surgery were to succeed, what’s the point if the patient dies?”

The lieutenant general folded his arms thoughtfully before giving his brief retort.

“…Colonel Lergen, you’re a fool.”

“Please enlighten me on your opinion of the matter, sir.”

“I wouldn’t want to hurt my hand—” he said as he literally raised a fist.

Knowing where this was heading, Lergen interrupted him before the general got too caught up in a different performance.

“Sir! I ask you to refrain from fooling yourself.”

“Oh?”

“What can you do with a fist?! Anyone can hit someone once! They may even get away with it a second time. But where does it all lead?”

Those who lived by the sword, died by the sword—and the Imperial Army was effectively one great big sword. Too much swinging and it would be the Empire that wound up down in a puddle of its own blood.

Colonel Lergen knew full well that this was only a theory on his part.

“So you want me to rely on the bureaucrats? You want to place your hope on Counselor Conrad and pray that he’ll pull through for us without a hitch?”

“The military isn’t anything more than precisely that—a military.”

Lergen remembered the day diplomatic negotiations in Ildoa went south, leading to the end of their hopes for a quick armistice. If a simple soldier could’ve made a difference then, he wished they had been there that day…

He felt the same now given the situation at hand.

Colonel Lergen’s rationale, on the other hand, strongly denied his feelings of shock.

“We’re senior staff officers. Standard training dictates what we should do.”

“Standard training teaches you nothing more than a single standard. It’s our prerogative to reevaluate what our standards should be.”

He said this nonchalantly, but the meaning it carried was something heavy enough to make the senior staff officer’s expression stiffen.

“General, are you insinuating that you could redefine the standards in the middle of a war like this?”

“…Nothing is possible if you never try. How many things do you think are chalked up as impossible without ever being tested?”

“We are a fist, sir. We’re nothing more than an injured fist.”

“Let’s say that you’re correct, for argument’s sake. Then let me ask you this. Do you really believe that we could never be anything more than a fist?”

It’s more basic than that… Cigar in hand, Lergen continued in a hoarse voice.

“We fight the wars, and the politicians run the country. We have the bureaucrats to bring us together. This is the foundation on which our country is based.”

It was frustrating. It was difficult to tolerate. Lergen almost wanted to lash out when he thought about it. He knew it was the forbidden fruit, and yet…there was something utterly captivating about General Rudersdorf’s plan!

But these were just his own personal feelings.

It was nothing more than a knee-jerk reaction born of how he felt on the inside.

“Sir, as an individual, there is something about your plan that I do find tempting. As a colonel, however, it’s not something I could ever get behind.”

Lergen could share a recognition of the dire circumstances their country faced—they both shared an awareness of the issue. As a military expert, however, he couldn’t prescribe the general’s plan as a solution. Contingency plans were akin to life insurance. They weren’t something that should be forced into action!

Colonel Lergen sat and waited to be reprimanded by his superior.

“Excellent. That is the right mindset to have.”

Lergen never dreamed the man would agree with him.

It actually threw him off a great deal. Despite knowing it was impossible to avoid getting ambushed, he walked right into it like a fool. In a sense, this could be considered a rare tactical experience.

“Therefore, you need to throw all common sense out the window.”

“What?”

The ability to bargain was something that was drilled into senior staff officers.

Though a commander in name only, Lergen had done more than his fair share of studying the conditions on the eastern front and made sure to learn whatever important lessons there were to be gleaned from the war front. But this full-frontal assault, a classic example of deep battle executed by Rudersdorf, pierced through the crevasses of his scattered mind.

“They talk about the three branches, but it really all comes down to Supreme Command.”

Lergen didn’t even need to ask what the general was referring to.

“It pains me to say this…but the imperial family can no longer keep up with the times. Meanwhile, the bureaucrats have created an echo chamber for themselves. Where they should act as a bridge between the government, the military, and the imperial family, they’ve become a bunch of indolent loafers. Colonel, our country is…long overdue for a revolution.”

The conversation was getting far too specific. The statement was something a serving soldier should never say about the system their country was founded on, let alone the imperial family.

Lergen reflexively shook his head before interrupting his superior by blurting out, “Sir!”

“Colonel, you’re a straight arrow. Straight as they come… All right, I think we have a good sense of where we both stand on the issue. I don’t plan on doing anything outrageous.”

“Then surely the outrageousness of your statement isn’t lost on you?!”

Lieutenant General Rudersdorf nodded with an expression that looked like it had been carved from a boulder.

“Keep in mind that this is merely a contingency plan. It’s just something to have ready. There’s no need to get up in arms about it. There’s no better path out of this than, as you say, through legitimate channels. There are no grounds for me to disagree with you there.” He continued in a terribly exasperated voice, “I believe you fully understand what your duty is as an officer. Therefore, we should both stick to what we know best.”

“I’ve never forgotten my duty.”

“…Good. You’re free to go. Take those cigars with you. They’re a gift.”

Lergen knew there was no refusing this offer. It felt very much like the cigars were being pushed on to him more than freely given as a gift.

He graciously gathered the box up before giving a salute and taking his leave from the deputy director’s office. After a few deep breaths, he got the oxygen he desperately needed after that intense back-and-forth.

It felt like he couldn’t think straight.

Without much thought, he took out one of the cigars and placed it in his mouth, only to shake his head and change back to his usual cheap smokes. He was too used to smoking military-issue tobacco at this point.

So what was he to do with the rest of these cigars?

“I feel like these aren’t something I should keep for myself…”

He felt hesitant about smoking them alone, almost guilty. It wasn’t as if they were a bribe or anything, but he didn’t really know what to do with them.

He figured he’d better give them to somebody else entirely.

Taking a moment to ponder who the busiest person in the General Staff Office was…he quickly realized he didn’t even need to think about it. Though it would be something of a trip, there was only one department that deserved these. With the cigars in hand, he made his way to the labyrinth that was the Railroad Department.

With the occasional salute given to the random acquaintance or soldier he met on the way, Lergen walked through the cold halls of the General Staff building.

During this short trip, he found himself thinking about the plainness of his workplace. There were sparse decorations here or there, but it was nothing compared to the Foreign Office. It made sense to him why Lieutenant Colonel Degurechaff would scoff at their building.

The General Staff Office was a home for those who did real work.

Colonel Lergen approached the door of one of its civilians and called out as he knocked.

“Lieutenant Colonel Uger, are you there?”

There was no response.

Was that too quiet? Lergen knocked harder, but nothing came in return.

“He must be out. Strange, he’s usually in around this time…”

Urged on by his suspicion, Lergen poked his head into the office, where he saw a sight he somewhat expected. There was a railway official, out cold on top of his desk. Sleeping on the job was a fairly serious problem, but considering how much work Lieutenant Colonel Uger was inundated with, Lergen could only feel for the man.

He’d just finished organizing the massive train schedule that enabled General Zettour’s mobile warfare in the east. It was extremely doubtful the Empire had arranged any time off… Lergen couldn’t bring himself to reprimand the man.

Should I just leave the cigars with a note?

No, Colonel Lergen figured it would be better to wake the man up and order him to get some rest. He approached the desk when a series of documents sprawled across it caught his eye.

“This is…the train schedule for shifting the theater…?”

Uger finished this days ago, and it was already being passed around. What other explanation would there be for him to be sleeping on his desk?

“But…this is…”

He did a double take. Was this a train schedule for the south? The only theater to the south would be…

“Ildoa?”

Now it had completely captured his interest. He looked over the documents and found a list of intricate numbers. They were statistics on different trains and stations, but they were oddly detailed.

He was about to run his eyes over a few more of the documents when the owner of the office groggily emerged from his slumber finally.

“Hmm? What? Oh, when did you get here, Colonel?”

Colonel Lergen kindheartedly waved his hand at the man as he gave a few long blinks.

“At ease. You must be exhausted.”

And no wonder, considering how arranging the train schedule was one of the most difficult jobs in the entire General Staff Office. There was a limited supply of train cars but an endless amount of demand for them. Just maintaining the rails alone was of critical importance during the war. The demands included provisioning new railroads that had to be laid—and to make matters worse, strategists always required a two-way railroad, which included converting Federation tracks to a gauge usable for Empire trains.

It was complicated to the point of being beyond human comprehension, but the army found a way to make things work. They were hated by the Reichsbahn, feared by the Railroad Department, and complained about by the frontline troops for the lack of provisions they received, but they did their job no matter what.

They worked in the shadows to ensure the nation’s logistics never failed. There was no one more deserving of these cigars.

“Maybe these will help take your mind off things. I got them as an apology from General Rudersdorf for physically threatening me earlier today.”

Lieutenant Colonel Uger accepted the cigars without really thinking about it.

“Thank you. Oh, uh, sorry about earlier. You saw me at my worst, Colonel Lergen.”

“If it was anybody other than me, this would’ve been considered a leak.”

“…There aren’t many people who have full access to all General Staff information.”

He wasn’t wrong.

Colonel Lergen easily had more authority than even the lieutenant generals at the beginning of the war. He was authorized to access almost as much information as General Zettour when the war first broke out.

He could feel the tremendous responsibility building alongside said growing authority. After all, it wasn’t as if he was in possession of a magical cauldron. Having authority over others didn’t give him the power to create something out of nothing.

Not to mention the exceedingly large amount of stress that came with the territory.

“I guess access is really the only benefit this job entails. And, well, the occasional fancy cigar. I could do without the pressure I have to put up with from above, though…”

“Ha-ha-ha, capable people are destined to work themselves to the bone until the day they die.”

“Lieutenant Colonel, don’t pretend you’re not in the same boat. I know what you’ve been up to lately. It’s easy for me to picture you being sent around the office and having people pile their odd jobs onto you.”

“I appreciate the gift. Ah, I know. Were you interested in these?”

Uger organized the papers before placing them in front of Colonel Lergen. It was the same schedule for shifting the theater from before. The colonel flashed an overt grimace.

“…I’ll be honest—I’m having a hard time making sense of the plans.”

“What? You must be joking.”

The comment caught Lieutenant Colonel Uger off guard. To him, it was no different from any other regular old schedule. For a man of the railway, it was nothing more than that. However, for a strategist in charge of various aspects of the war, Lergen had an entirely different perspective.

“These documents are for Ildoa, are they not?”

Lieutenant Colonel Uger simply said, “That’s right,” with a sigh. “It’s a train schedule and one that has a railroad expert…falling asleep on top of a map of Ildoa. I must say, it’s a very ominous plan, if nothing else.”

Why was the General Staff Office making railway arrangements going toward Ildoa at a time like this? The idea of there being such a map in the building was borderline preposterous. Ildoa was their ally, for goodness’ sake. While the country was without a doubt taking a very opportunist approach to the war…they still sent the Empire much-needed supplies.

Though it was important to remain vigilant, their neighbor was hardly a credible threat worth planning around. There wasn’t much more to Ildoa than this. So why were there large-scale preparations being made to send trains to Ildoa? Lergen assumed it was a part of the nebulous Plan B.

“Lieutenant Colonel Uger, is it fair to assume you have an idea of what this could be related to?”

“I think I have an idea. Do you think so, too?”

“I bet these are preliminary preparations for something. The problem is…whether or not they’ll remain preliminary.”

Was this new schedule preparation in case their primary plan didn’t work? That was what Lergen wanted to think, but there was something awfully tangible about the documents and the numbers. Obviously, it was yet another form of insurance.

Insurance was necessary at all stages of the game. And yet, there was this strange feeling the colonel couldn’t shake about the entire thing.

“As a railway official, I can say that we regularly station troops on the Ildoa border. I’m struggling this time, though. I’m having a hard time getting enough mountain cars and maintenance cars over there.

Oh? Lergen halfway nodded, but then he felt his strange feeling grow even stronger.

“You’re sending cars to Ildoa?”

“Well, just as a test.”

“Wait, Lieutenant Colonel.”

“What’s wrong?”

Lieutenant Colonel Uger sounded oblivious, which caused Colonel Lergen to question him immediately.

“You were asked to send actual train cars there? Are you certain this isn’t some sort of misunderstanding?”

“Yes, the railroad isn’t at its best at the moment, so in order to plan for the future, we have to send locomotives to the site first.”

“Lieutenant Colonel, I haven’t heard anything about this.”

“Do you need me to explain the technical reasons why we run these tests? Since we’d never fight with Ildoa for political reasons, I’m only able to send my subordinates there to research a route through the mountains.”

That’s not it— Colonel Lergen shook his head.

Thinking up plans for all conceivable situations was a fundamental part of nearly all military procedures. There were already multiple plans thought out regarding this very issue. There was also likely conclusive research already done regarding what Lieutenant Colonel Uger was currently tasked with doing.

Actually mobilizing machinery on the scene was entirely different from pure theory. They were using what limited resources they had for it. That was something Lergen had to be aware of, considering his position in the office.

So why wasn’t he informed of any of this?

“For the trains heading to Ildoa…do you know why you were ordered to make these schedules? Actually, no— Tell me who gave you the orders.”

“It was General Rudersdorf. He said he wanted a contingency plan in the worst-case scenario that Ildoa joins the enemy forces.”

“That sounds legitimate, but…Lieutenant Colonel, we already have a plan for when that happens. The only plans that are authorized are all defensive.”

“I’m sorry—I’m not sure I follow you…”

It was evident that the railway operator didn’t have a grasp of the full picture, so Lergen decided to let him know the ugly truth—what this all meant from a strategist’s perspective.

“For a defensive battle, we planned on destroying all railways between the two countries. We’d station forces in the mountains and focus purely on fortifying our defenses. There isn’t a single plan that involves going into Ildoa.”

They’d had these train schedules worked out since before the war. All trains would remain within the Empire’s border. Though these plans lacked the power to take out an enemy army in one fell swoop, the country could use what troops it had within its borders to buy itself time, possibly indefinitely.

Lieutenant Colonel Uger was beginning to pick up on the strangeness of the schedule he had been tasked with creating, and his expression soon twisted with anxiety as he scanned the documents again.

“So then…what kind of scenario is the general envisioning that would require me to prepare these?”

“Probably something more than just theory. Something that an officer with the authorization I have doesn’t even know about yet.”

It was known far and wide that the army loved their plans. That said, they also abhorred waste, and they certainly didn’t have any time to spare given the current state of the war. In effect, no activities would be approved unless they had a clear goal in mind.

Which begged the question…what was the goal in mind when it came to Ildoa?

And why didn’t Lergen know about it? Lergen, who was in charge of studying military topography in critical locations.

“…This is probably a top-secret operation.”

Lergen let this slip out with a defeated laugh.

The best way to fool your enemies was to fool your allies, after all.

This so-called preliminary schedule was nothing more than routine work for the General Staff Office. Working on it would likely never draw the attention of a fellow officer.

This wasn’t the case, though, if they had already begun moving actual machinery.

The meaning behind this was something very, very—and this couldn’t be emphasized enough—very serious.

Though the mere hint of the so-called pacification plan from before suggested the same meaning, this did even more. It was evident…that General Rudersdorf had a lot more on his mind than even Lergen was aware of.

Plan B may very well have been nothing more than a contingency.

It was, however, a contingency prepared for extremely real circumstances.

“C-Colonel…”

“Let’s grab a drink, Lieutenant Colonel. I think we may need to speak more frankly about this.”

“And maybe we should have the drinks at one of our houses,” Colonel Lergen suggested in a quiet voice, almost a whisper—a small hint at the precariousness of what he wished to talk about.

Though it definitely wasn’t the best way to conduct things, relationships between individuals filled the gaps in an organization.

“There are one too many factors set in motion for this to be considered preliminary. I think we should…”

Work together behind the scenes, Lergen was midway through this thought when it hit him. A realization cropped up in Colonel Lergen’s mind.

“Oh, I see.”

He was under a timer.

“So we’re in an hourglass.”

They were operating under a time limit! If the army couldn’t achieve their goal within the limit…would that trigger those contingency plans?

If a battle was to be fought, it would happen in the spring. They certainly weren’t going to attempt major maneuvers in the mountains during the winter. The lack of snowplow trains in the schedule suggested this as well. That meant they had a year, maybe less.

The Empire had perhaps a year to figure something out…

Time was a big concern of General Rudersdorf’s. Despite this, he’d taken an interest in Lergen’s efforts to reach out to the world through diplomacy… His efforts were placed on a scale with their Plan B.

It made sense to Lergen why he was given time to push for reconciliation with Counselor Conrad—that time came with a clear limit.

This explained why Lieutenant General Rudersdorf had placed such high hopes in him!

He trusted Lergen but also gave him a time limit. A limit the general would likely never share directly with Lergen…

The plan was more than likely a surprise attack.

The more he thought about it, the more Lergen was convinced that if they were going to pull it off with any real chance of success, it would have to be in the spring. Or perhaps February or March at the earliest.

Lergen knew he’d be asked to negotiate like his life depended on it. For the general, it served to either lower their enemy’s guard or to actually pull through with successful diplomacy.

Either way…he was now a part of an inconceivable framework.

He didn’t need to look any further than the concrete plans the general had the railway staff working on. There was a good chance that the trigger was a literal trigger.

He hated politics. He hated them with his entire being. It was why, up until that point, Lergen felt a distance from them and those who actively engaged with them. He only wished whoever controlled politics did it well.

Now those politics had forced their way into his domain—military planning—and he needed to face reality.

“Colonel Lergen? Are you all right?”

Lergen looked at the lieutenant colonel. He could see the obvious worry in his eyes. This man was a railway specialist. He was in charge of making the trains run on time. Maybe, just maybe he…

“Hey, Lieutenant Colonel. I feel bad to ask you this, but I need you to do something for me…” The colonel apologetically lowered his head. “I know you can’t do much more than you already are. And I know you may think it’s inhumane of me to ask for more. You’d be right to think so.”

Even so, he needed to make the request.

The devil called necessity required more time. To get this time, Lergen needed the Railroad Department to devote itself to the Reich. As incredibly stupid as it seemed, it was necessary.

“I need more time before the battle shifts to an Ildoan front. Can you stretch out preparations for this schedule as long as possible until then?”

“Colonel, with all due respect…us railway operators are barely scraping by as it is.”

Lergen knew this. It was self-evident. But he needed whatever amount of time he could get, no matter how little.

He didn’t know if the attack was planned for mid-spring, or if it was an early spring blitzkrieg. If he could get even an extra month or two, there was a chance that things could turn out differently…

There was still hope.

It would be up to Counselor Conrad and the diplomats. If they screwed up, who knew what might befall the Empire. There was also a chance of things slowing down on the Ildoan side in terms of negotiations.

He could tell that the chances would be slim going into this.

But even a slim chance was still a chance. He wasn’t going to let his only chance to potentially save the Empire, the Heimat, pass him by.

Would his struggle end in vain? Was it nothing but a pathetic last-ditch effort?

Colonel Lergen was fine with that. He knew what he needed to do.

He didn’t know where this path would lead him. It didn’t really matter to him. It may only slightly differ from Lieutenant General Rudersdorf’s path. What mattered was that he felt it was a way to help the fatherland, and he’d do anything for the nation’s sake.

That’s what it meant to be a senior staff officer.

He could no longer afford to stand idly by as the time he no longer had slipped through his fingers.

“I need more time to save the Reich. To save our country. Please. Do whatever you can to buy me some.”

No longer concerned with appearances, Lergen was practically begging Uger at this point. The train operator let his shoulders fall and slumped over before letting out an exhausted, sad laugh.

“Looks like I’ll be putting in much more overtime from here on. I doubt I’ll be able to head home at all. I can already see my daughter crying.”

The man was a good husband and father. Lergen knew this but gave the man his tall order nevertheless. It was his job, and he was going to do it, but this didn’t mean he didn’t feel bad about it.

“I’m sorry. Feel free to hate me for this, Lieutenant Colonel.”

“I will, but either way…let’s do this, together.”

They would struggle.

They would fight.

Tooth and nail, with everything they had.

““For the Reich!””

(The Saga of Tanya the Evil, Volume 10: Viribus Unitis, fin)