Youjo Senki - Volume 11 - Chapter 4

[chapter] IV Turning Point

OCTOBER 16, UNIFIED YEAR 1927, ILDOA

Ildoans loved peace, and that was the truth. They loved it from the bottom of their hearts because peace was both glorious and beautiful. But most of all, it allowed them to go about their lives without trouble. Was there any cause nobler than peace? Taking this idea to another level, was there anything sweeter than peace in your own nation?

An Ildoan would tell you no. Were it possible, they would pray for world peace, but seeing as that was unrealistic, they at least wanted it in their own nation. This shouldn’t be cast off as egotistical, though. They were merely honest with themselves. The same went for peoples of all nations, really. Why should someone have to lay their life on the line just because the news reported war had broken out in another country?

The Ildoans were no exception. When the news came on while they ate dinner, they would genuinely sympathize with the victims.

How awful, those poor people, things must be so difficult for them.

They’d share a pleasant conversation on the topic while enjoying a delicious meal before climbing into their beds for a good night’s sleep. Well, that may not have been the case for all of them—some Ildoans out there may have wanted to help by sending some donations. Some Good Samaritans would even go out of their way to find different channels to assist the victims in the name of peace, but even for these Ildoans, the war was nothing more than a fire across the pond.

This was also true in a political sense. If anything, it was especially true for the politicians. From the perspective of the rational Ildoan politicians, there couldn’t be anything more illogical than that clashing of the Empire and the Federation. Sensible considerations based on their raison d’état dictated that the profit margins were long gone in this drawn-out Great War.

The Ildoans rightfully observed that there was nothing to be gained from war—that it was a waste. It was the obvious, sensible conclusion.

What is to be gained from so much killing? This was the question they could never comprehend.

The truth was that war was a highly unprofitable venture. According to the reports gathered by the Ildoan diplomatic missions around the world, war almost always required pouring a nation’s workforce into the battlefields. So they wanted to maintain a modicum of distance. They weren’t so neighborly as to join a country in war just because they shared a border. There was simply no obligation for them to do so.

Thus, Ildoa chose to remain neutral. They knew it was a thorny path to take, that the Commonwealth would call them a bunch of opportunists, but they didn’t care. They also didn’t care if the Empire shamed them for forgetting the spirit of their alliance. Shame was much better than idiotically throwing their nation’s youth and future into the hellish fires of war.

The Kingdom of Ildoa and its politicians were, for better or worse, loyal to their interests. Not only that, but there was no reason for them to rouse their people to participate in a fruitless war. They were quite clear about intending to side with the winner in the end. No, that’s not quite right. It was more like they wanted to avoid being pulled down by the loser, or worse, have the battle come to them.

This was all they could ask for, to be left alone. Their one and only goal was to remain neutral.

It went without saying that this was highly infuriating for the nations involved in the war. When pressed to pick a side, the Ildoan diplomats would spend all their efforts maintaining a delicate balance between preserving harmony with the winning side and not doing anything that might threaten their ties with the other side. Doing so would draw ire from those who thought this dishonorable, but their opinions were of no concern to the Ildoan diplomatic corps.

The government’s job was to maintain its people’s health and wealth. Therefore, they saw it fit to keep their people and resources as far away from the battlefield as possible.

They were loyal to their duty—nothing more, nothing less. It should be noted that it wasn’t as if the Ildoans took their obligations lightly. They sincerely desired to maintain relationships with both sides…to the best of their abilities. From this perspective, armed neutrality seemed like an ideal stance to take.

It was to be a defensive alliance with the Unified States that would guarantee their protection. Intended to be a purely defensive alliance, it was a sort of insurance that would never require them to go on the offensive—a form of risk hedging in case they ever found themselves on the receiving end of an attack, all without the risk of them needing to attack anyone else. Moreover, Ildoa had been objectively observing from the sidelines that the Empire’s victory was growing impossible. If this was the case, then maintaining a level of distance until the end of the war made the most sense to the Ildoan Foreign Office. So they had nothing to lose from collaborating with the Unified States, which was aligned with the Commonwealth.

From the Commonwealth’s perspective, it was the perfect first step for creating a framework the Unified States could use to mingle with the old world. It would allow them to welcome the Unified States back with open arms.

But what about the Unified States? It was a good move for them, too. This alliance could act as a foothold for the Unified States to increase their involvement in old-world affairs. The move wouldn’t be too provocative in the public sphere. It was the relatively logical interventionist position they sought and an appropriate position for Ildoa to play nice with the world powers in the pursuit of their foreign policy aim of containing the Empire. However, the Ildoan plan was even more profound than this, for they took pride in the fact that their diplomatic machinations would also prove profitable for the Empire.

The deepening of Ildoa-Unified States relations would make them an ideal candidate for mediating an end to the war. This could prove to be a new avenue for negotiating peace on behalf of the Empire. But it went even further than this, which was something they were quite proud of.

Ildoa could theoretically use armed neutrality as a pretext for keeping the Unified States out of the war entirely. The alliance would serve to bring the continental powerhouse that was the Unified States both closer to and further from the war. For example, the Ildoan authorities could keep tabs on the Unified States merchant ships by holding mutual inspections in the name of neutrality. There was a risk, though, that the Unified States and Ildoa could both end up as the Empire’s opponents should its defeat become overly evident. At the very least, the alliance would more than give the Empire the precious time it needed. It was a thin tightrope, but the Ildoan diplomats proudly walked it.

As an added benefit, if Ildoa could bring the Unified States’ soldiers into its borders, it would also decrease the risk involved with the Empire potentially trying anything rash.

Thus, with this new diplomatic relationship blossoming, the Ildoan diplomats spread the message of their new, important role through its worldwide network of diplomatic missions. It went without saying that the first country to receive their flowery message would be its neighbor, the Empire. Naturally, as the Empire was sensitive to its neighbor’s developments, it would receive the news with the utmost levity.

The Empire, however, was the Empire. The history books would sadly comment that the Empire’s execution of the theory of total war would put it on a collision course with Ildoan political interests. For better or worse, the Empire was already backed into a corner. The world its citizens lived in was far too different from where the peace-loving Ildoans resided.

THE SAME DAY, THE IMPERIAL CAPITAL

General Zettour had returned to the capital after General Rudersdorf’s death. Though it was thanks to the efforts of those involved with the incident that confusion was kept to a minimum…changes up top always shake up the rest of an organization.

The General Staff was no exception.

The organization twisted and turned as it was filled to the brim with a feeling of anxiety. The office was historically known for its air of authority and formality, even during peacetime. At this point, though, it was something only the older officers would remember with a sigh. The circumstances for the Empire’s war effort were quickly deteriorating. Especially after the most recent, gut-wrenching political debacle they wrangled themselves into.

It was around this time when the General Staff would receive word of Ildoa’s switch. Even the officers who were growing accustomed to the seemingly endless barrage of troublesome happenings were blown away by this development. It didn’t matter how used they were to stress and anxiety. This turn of events was a devastating blow that made them quiver as they spoke.

Word of the news mercilessly ravaged the General Staff Office.

There are signs of an Ildoa-Unified States alliance.

An officer on duty would shout this when he received this report.

“The Ildoans are changing their diplomatic policy? The hell they are!”

He swiped the paper out of his subordinate’s hand and read through the page with only hatred in his eyes before crying to the heavens.

“They’re going to form a mutual defense pact with the Unified States?!”

What followed were words of disdain.

“Those Ildoan scum…”

There was no rationality, only hate in his cries. The blatant display of emotions wasn’t something one would ever see in the General Staff Office before the war. It was, however, how the officers working in the Imperial Army truly felt on the inside.

The ripple of rage and confusion soon turned into a tidal wave that would engulf the entire General Staff. Resent quickly echoed through the halls of the building.

“This is a direct repudiation of the Empire-Ildoa alliance! Why would they do this?!”

“Those goddamn hyenas! Have they no honor? No shame?!”

“Why didn’t our incompetent Foreign Office officials pick up on this?!”

“The same goes for the military attaché! What the hell were they doing this entire time?! God forbid they were too busy stuffing their faces with all that delicious Ildoan cuisine!”

With emotions high, the entire office was of one mind as they openly expressed their rage. It was more than enough for the officials to express their shock verbally. The feeling of betrayal was just that severe.

“I can’t believe they would take advantage of us while we’re at our most vulnerable…”

“So this was their true intention behind their claims of friendship!”

It wasn’t as if the officers, shouting together in a shared fit of rage, had forgotten the meaning of the word raison d’état. If they were looking at the news from an outside perspective, they would probably go so far as to compliment the Ildoans for their diplomatic prowess.

They were, however, a part of the equation. Setting aside different levels of awareness of how it may seem, anyone in their right mind who knew the Empire was going through hard times should understand what this news meant.

How dare they was the emotional response that cast Ildoa in a despicable light. It made them look like the enemy. The harrowing circumstances the Imperial officers faced in their own country made venting their anger feel like a sweet, irresistible poison.

They could recognize that they could ill-afford emotional displays.

They could understand why they needed to face the situation with level heads.

They knew Ildoa was in a position to choose its allies.

But that didn’t mean they could accept it.

From the perspective of an Imperial soldier, who wasn’t in a place to choose, the Ildoa-Unified States joint-neutrality agreement inspired never-before-seen outrage. It was enough to rouse the wrath of the entire office. There were no godlike officers in the current General Staff. They were all just regular people.

The situation met its peak when an unprecedented call rang through the office.

“I’m missing the payment papers! Who has them?! Where are they?!”

Their ancestors must’ve been rolling in their graves. The General Staff Office’s workflow had come to a complete halt.

“Everyone! Back to your desks! Get your work in order!”

A superior officer was calling his men back to work? Never in the Empire’s history was such a scene conceivable. Even at war, the General Staff’s officers were always on top of their work. It was a point of pride for their predecessors. People once spoke about how its perfect officers were what made the General Staff. The protracted total war had ruined the precision of this integral part of the Empire’s instrument of violence.

They didn’t have time to lament the deterioration of the war machine, though. The merciless hourglass was letting more sand fall by the second. While the army could avert their eyes from the clear time limit placed on them, a staff officer was forced to bear it in mind. This was the reason for their grieving.

Having seized the momentum in the east, most officers were busy trying to reassess the situation there. News of problems from the south hit them like a bolt from the blue. Would they let the diplomats deal with it, take military action, or ignore it and focus on the east? The situation was far too grave for that. Any decision would impact the Empire’s military policy, and by extension, their nation’s fate.

With the General Staff being the nation’s instrument of violence, the distraught officers would look to the helm of the machine for an answer.

“What does General Zettour think?”

The officers gulped with anticipation as they waited for their leader’s orders. For them, waiting for the general to weigh in on the situation was extremely taxing on their nerves.

So, what was he thinking? The new leader of the General Staff continued to walk his own path despite being thrown into all the chaos.

His return from the east and the General Staff’s efforts to propel the general to his current position were both conducted with unprecedented haste. When faced with this new problem in the south, however, General Zettour hardly reacted at all.

“An alliance to protect their neutrality? Between Ildoa and the Unified States? Thank you for the report.”

He thanked the messenger for delivering the report to his official residence, then announced he was going to eat breakfast before leisurely starting his morning routine.

When he got into the car sent by the General Staff for his commute, he shrugged off any questions regarding the matter by mentioning he hadn’t clocked in yet. The other passengers tried multiple times to get an explanation from him, but he was only interested in talking about personal affairs, such as family issues, friends from the war, or how the officers spent their days.

He occasionally brought up the General Staff Office, but he only touched upon mundane affairs. It was clear that the general was blatantly avoiding the subject. Senior officers from the General Staff could understand why a superior might want to keep their opinions to themselves. Though they wanted to know what he personally thought, they also knew when it wasn’t worth pressing the point. They accepted that their shots in the dark had missed their mark.

The last thing they wanted was to face repercussions for pressing the matter too hard, so they backed off. It was assumed that he’d share his plans once they reached the office.

Contrary to their expectations, however, the entourage would pass off the general to Colonel Lergen, who would sit next to his boss and watch as he started his work for the day just as the clock struck office hours.

And what a relaxed way to start his day the general showed! He was even so bold as to enjoy one of the cigars General Rudersdorf left behind.

“That idiot… How disgraceful to keep such good cigars stowed away.”

A look of amazement wiped the stern expression off his face. He then smiled and took one of the cigars out of its case. He began to fill the office with smoke, nodding with satisfaction as he did.

“I can’t say I’m a fan of this brand, but we’re at war. Beggars can’t be choosers.”

Letting out a plume of smoke, he enjoyed the fragrance before repositioning the cigar in his mouth. Working in an office meant the humidity was kept under control, something Zettour seemed to enjoy as much as the cigar itself.

In an abstract way…there was something happy-go-lucky about how he enjoyed it. As if the tension permeating the office was nonexistent, General Zettour nonchalantly offered a cigar to Colonel Lergen, who stood at attention next to his desk.

“Join me.”

Despite all that was going on, there wasn’t a hint of tension in his laid-back offer. He held out the cigar case in what amounted to nothing more than a superior asking his subordinate for a nice smoke break. Naturally, Colonel Lergen’s demeanor didn’t match his boss’s.

“General, I…”

The colonel’s roundabout rejection of his offer, mixed with his troubled tone, made General Zettour shrug with astonishment as he placed the case document onto his desk.

“Well, you’re no fun.”

He was so calm as he let out another plume of smoke in the same breath as he spoke.

Colonel Lergen didn’t understand how he could act like this. How could he be so unbowed despite the bad news?

“So you’re not willing to entertain an old man? Or are you so narrow-minded that you can’t have a little fun? You can’t be that busy.”

Colonel Lergen decided to voice his discontent, but not without a wince of hesitation.

“Well, it’s just that I can’t get the recent developments shown by Ildoa out of my mind… The entire office feels the same way. I’m sure the section chiefs asked your opinion before coming to work this morning.”

“They were hounding me all morning about it.”

“Excuse me, sir, but to see you react so lightly to military affairs like this is quite shocking for me.”

“I’m more shocked to hear that coming from you.”

General Zettour exhaled more smoke before grinning at his subordinate.

“To think something as trivial as this would have you and the managers in such a bind has me worried about the state of the General Staff. I never expected things to reach such a low.”

After a moment’s hesitation, Colonel Lergen decided to speak up again.

“Judging by your words, I assume this means you already have something in mind for Ildoa?”

“I take that back, Colonel Lergen.”

He put his cigar down into an ashtray before cheerfully resting his elbows on the desk and folding his arms. The tension in his lips loosened into a grin as he stared down the colonel.

“To my surprise, it seems you still have your wits about you.”

Anticipating his superior’s words, Colonel Lergen gulped. In contrast, General Zettour was as collected as he always was.

“I decided what we’d do the second I heard the news.”

The general seemed dissatisfied with his decision, despite the conviction with which he spoke. He scratched his chin and showed a wry smile.

“Well, maybe saying I decided what we’d do is a bit misleading.”

“My apologies, sir? Do you mean to say you were forced to make a decision?

The colonel wondered this aloud, and his suspicions had hit their mark.

“That’s exactly right.”

He tapped a finger on his desk, and General Zettour showed a deadpan expression for a split second.

“We are effectively left without a choice in the matter. Our next course of action has been decided by the Ildoans, not by us.”

An alliance of armed neutrality was a threat. Ildoa was being blatant about how it tried to put as much distance between itself and the Empire as it could. Colonel Lergen, however, also saw the merit in the development.

Though likely a formality, the nature of their alliance was officially armed neutrality. This meant that the Empire could use Ildoan channels to compel the Unified States to uphold its obligation to remain neutral.

Whether or not this was Ildoa’s intention with the alliance, it was a million times better for the focus of the Ildoa-Unified States alliance to be neutrality and not aggression. Of course, this was simply what the colonel could hope for. He knew that veering on the side of optimism was a dangerous bet, but if they played their cards right, the alliance may just buy them some time.

Colonel Lergen also knew of the vast array of other problems at hand. Should winter come, it would be difficult for the Empire to advance into the mountainous region on their border to the south. If they were going to attack Ildoa, it needed to be in the spring, but the Ildoan border would surely be fortified by then. Moreover, he knew that General Zettour was one of the leading voices protesting a rushed preemptive strike against Ildoa.

All things considered, it seemed very likely that they would maintain the status quo, for now.

“Here’s the directive we will go with. Colonel Lergen, my apologies, but could you create a draft for me?”

“Yes, sir. What are your orders?”

The colonel readied his pen and paper, and as if placing an order for food at a restaurant, General Zettour gave his brief orders.

“Send these out immediately. All officers are to submit a draft for an attack plan. Our target is Ildoa.”

Repeating his superior’s orders aloud up until immediately, Colonel Lergen was suddenly hit by a wave of confusion. His brain was having difficulty processing the words as they reached his ears.

The colonel blinked a couple of times before shaking his head.

“Come again? Pardon me, sir, did you just…?”

Maybe his ears were playing tricks on him. What did he just hear?

With his voice audibly trembling, Colonel Lergen questioned his superior. With a tone of stark interest, General Zettour answered in his usual calm manner.

“What’s this? Did all the heavy artillery finally take its toll on your hearing? Perhaps you should get your ears checked.”

“S-sir?!”

“Our target is Ildoa. I want you to send the orders out immediately.”

It wasn’t a joke or a problem with his ears.

The general’s orders were meant to reassure the colonel, but he couldn’t have been more shocked. Colonel Lergen was at a loss for words.

“I-I’m sorry, but… are you insinuating we attack in the winter?”

“Colonel Lergen, the General Staff Office does good work. With the arrangements Lieutenant Colonel Uger made on the railway’s side of things, we can pull off a winter assault, depending on the strategy. We can knock Ildoa out of the equation.”

“G-General Zettour! You were so insistent about avoiding such an attack…!”

The despair could be heard in his voice as he cried out, but his superior wasn’t going to fold.

Of course I was, General Zettour seemed to say as he nodded with the same calm attitude that could be described as his regular self.

“I still feel the same way, but as I said, they’ve forced our hands.”

General Zettour sighed.

He then took the cigar out of the ashtray to continue smoking it. With a dry voice, he expressed his annoyance at the situation while taking out a match to relight his cigar.

“Throwing armed neutrality into the mix effectively flips the table, which goes against my original sentiment. Now that they’ve gone and done this, there isn’t much room for discussion on the subject.”

It wasn’t his choice—he never had the freedom to make one.

“It’s no longer a matter of what I’d like to do. Ildoa forming an alliance of armed neutrality with the Unified States takes them from acceptable risk to a nonperforming loan for the Empire.”

General Zettour would’ve let them slide if they were nothing more than a bomb that would never go off. The risk of a possible explosion was about as much as he could tolerate from their ally.

However, was this the case if they were going to put pressure on the general’s timeline? Time was of the essence, and the Empire didn’t have a moment to spare.

“We don’t have time. This is our biggest problem, Colonel. The most I can do is continue our struggle, even if it is in vain.”

Despite knowing this wasn’t something he could say aloud, for the Empire to take the initiative—even if it was only to lose—it would have to prioritize defusing this bomb while Deputy Director Zettour was the only man on watch. It was the same as tearing down wooden houses in the path of a raging fire. Another problem was that the necessary pieces hadn’t fallen in place yet. If Ildoa was going to make itself a nuisance on this front, it needed to be dealt with, even if it meant overturning the entire warfront. Sometimes, planned destruction was the only way to avoid collapse on a larger scale.

This was why a dispassionate General Zettour continued down this path. Leading the army was his job, and he would see to it.

“It is hard to accept Ildoa’s self-righteous raison d’état. We need to fix their misunderstanding that this is an ordinary war. This is a world war, Colonel… This is a world war.”

As his nation’s leader, he was advancing the plot his country would follow in an all-too-natural manner.

The words left his lips in a cloud of smoke.

“You know about his plan too, I imagine.”

“I’m not sure what you are talking about, sir.”

“The Ildoa attack plan Rudersdorf had you craft while he was still alive. I read through everything he had filed away in that little safe of his… Don’t try to play it off like you don’t know about it.”

He shot the colonel a glance like a test proctor. Realizing he couldn’t feign ignorance, Colonel Lergen capitulated.

“My assumption is that it was a front-loaded attack plan…”

As far as Colonel Lergen could tell, the Empire’s power was depleting at a rapid rate. Even worse, they would have to cross the mountain range on their border to make it to Ildoa. It was clear to him that the fight needed to end quickly. The Imperial Army was in no condition for a follow-up attack. They needed to end the fight in a single decisive blow if they wanted any hope for victory.

“My guess is that the attack would be a gamble. One that placed our bets on speed and took past mistakes into consideration.”

“That’s a wise guess, Colonel. It’s almost exactly what Rudersdorf had in mind.”

General Zettour grinned as he confirmed Colonel Lergen’s conjecture. Given the premises at hand, any General Staff officer worth his salt should have been able to come up with a similar answer.

The Empire didn’t have any spare manpower left after sending so many into the quagmire in the east. With the trench warfare in the west wearing away what little remained, clear collapse was coming soon. The last thing the Empire could afford was losing any more of its people. With an entire generation sent off to war, depleting what was left of its population would result in giving up on the Heimat’s future.

So, should they bombard the country to hell with artillery fire to spare lives? This was the answer a textbook might offer.

The Empire knew from experience that their doctrine of orchestrated artillery fire was tried and true.

This, paired with proper infiltration tactics, could handily defeat the enemy should they rely on trench warfare and extensive fortifications.

The Empire had pulled this off both in theory and in practice. If the army could opt for a full-frontal assault, they would do so without hesitation. Although, if options were still on the table, the Imperial Army had absolutely no reason to engage with Ildoa in the first place.

With the Empire having been at war for so long, it wasn’t the same country it used to be.

Where were their artillery shells?

Where were their guns?

It only got worse from there. Where were the provisions they would need to conduct trench warfare?

And as if it wasn’t bad enough that the railway was in poor condition, how would the army be able to mobilize everything necessary to fight a war of attrition on this scale?

Where was the Empire’s steel? Its oil? Its precious metals? Where were any of the resources the Imperial Army needed to continue this war?

The Empire’s chronic lack of resources dulled its leaders’ wits. There was a single last-ditch conclusion the General Staff officers who had used up their common sense as kindling for the raging fire of total war would come to…

Since it won’t be possible to fight for long due to our lackluster stocks of artillery shells and other supplies, the army would have to conduct an aggressive assault and finish the engagement quickly.

General Zettour gave a wry chuckle. While he struggled to figure out the vague itinerary his friend had left behind, he imagined the dimwitted General Rudersdorf racking his brains to come up with an answer.

“All in all…it’s a terrible plan. Quite unlike anything I’d expect from him.”

The way he shook his head and showed a smile of bewilderment spoke volumes of the general’s disappointment. Even more evident was the hint of scorn in his voice.

“How dull,” he let slip out with a sigh. “The devil is in the details.”

He let out a sad sigh of grief.

“It should be obvious, even for an idiot like Rudersdorf. Seems like he carried too much on his shoulders and forgot the essence of what it means to be a strategist.”

The general shook his head, retrieved a bundle of documents from the safe next to his desk, and handed them to Colonel Lergen.

“Read this,” he said before returning to his cigar. As he finished decorating his ceiling with a nice plume of smoke, he turned his attention to his subordinate, who appeared to have finished reading the documents he’d handed him.

“With all due respect, sir, this seems a bit adventurous for an assault plan, if anything…”

Colonel Lergen thought the plan seemed practical, though he wouldn’t get the chance to voice this opinion. Before he could defend General Rudersdorf’s plan, he was interrupted by a pointed sigh.

“It’s far too typical. It’s nothing more than a bit risky.”

Colonel Lergen stared blankly at his boss. General Zettour’s inner strategist made his expression twist up in a wince as he continued.

“Colonel, the plan reads like something straight out of a textbook.”

“Y-you think you can find a plan like this in a textbook?”

The answer to this question was a firm nod, void of all hesitation.

“Remember the east, Colonel.”

Only now realizing that Colonel Lergen wasn’t following him, General Zettour suddenly took on the role of a friendly teacher and prodded the colonel to think for himself.

“This is a good learning opportunity for you, Colonel. What do you think this plan is missing?”

“It needs to prioritize breaking through the enemy line…and perhaps a well-executed ambush.”

“That is exactly right. It needs a frontal assault. The same approach I used on the Federation in the east. Tell me, Colonel, do you know what they call me over in the east?”

A trickster and a con artist. One of the better words they used was magician. Colonel Lergen wasn’t about to say something like this directly to his superior, though.

After a moment’s hesitation, he would choose an indirect way to respond.

“That you are a man of many tricks.”

“That’s a nice way of putting it. At the heart of that sentiment is the reality that the Empire is no longer in a position to execute simple frontal attacks. We would have surrendered a long time ago had we been playing by the book.”

Making his defeatism apparent to a fault, General Zettour slowly stood up and faced a picture hanging on the wall.

This was the office that belonged to the deputy director of the General Staff, so the pictures on the wall were all suitably famous paintings. The one General Zettour took an interest in was a picture that depicted delight in a way that accentuated romanticism.

It depicted the Empire’s history. It was an innocent yet honest—and not entirely unabashed—expression of the nation’s ego derived from both the unification of the fatherland and its many victories.

The painting was one of optimism. Hope for the Empire’s future. For victory and honor. It depicted fearless warriors who forged this great nation and never doubted their fate. Of course, had the portrayal of great battles been less emphasized, there may have been room for a more discreet and subtle aesthetic… In any case, this painting hung on the wall of the legendary stage that was the General Staff Office.

The general imagined his many predecessors likely sought out perfect strategies. Perhaps this masterpiece acted as a reminder to them of their responsibility toward history.

What the current owner of this office sought, however, was not victory but a way to weather his nation’s defeat. The gap between the artist’s emotions that had been poured into the painting and the general’s was so tremendous, it made General Zettour feel miserable just looking at the painting… But what else was he supposed to do?

Colonel Lergen could only speculate as to the general’s innermost thoughts, but one thing was for sure: He’d never seen the general look so vulnerable as he did while he gazed at the painting.

“We need to rewrite our nation’s textbooks. There are volumes and volumes of textbooks written about victory, but not a single one that even toys with the idea of processing defeat.”

The general shed some light on the predicament he wrestled with. It was almost painful how much Colonel Lergen resonated with his sentiment. An agonizing conflict tore him apart from the inside. He had no response.

General Zettour eventually turned away from the painting to show the colonel a wry smile before continuing.

“Tales of valor are beautiful, but they aren’t of much use to us now.”

The general, worn away by his time in the eastern quagmire, spoke with an exhausted voice as he stood in sharp contrast with the painting of an optimistic future.

“Reality is cruel and ugly, but also undeniable.”

However unpleasant.

However undesirable.

As much as they wished it wasn’t, this was the reality in which they lived. Everything that happened to the Empire was undeniably real.

Total war had transformed into a world war, which made their prospects abundantly clear—the facts were merciless.

War was fought with numbers.

Even though it was people fighting on the battlefield, they were no longer individuals. They were all numbers. Though the death of one man may be a tragedy, there was a sick perversion in how quickly a leader learned to sacrifice tens of thousands without a moment’s hesitation.

General Zettour let out a sigh before dragging himself back to reality and returning to his post—his desk.

“Perhaps I’m being a bit pedantic.”

Setting himself in his seat, the general glanced up at the ceiling for a moment. Colonel Lergen didn’t know this, but this glance was out of curiosity…to check if there was maybe a picture up there.

But…just as he imagined, it was a regular old ceiling.

I bet my predecessors never had to look to the ceiling for answers. I’m jealous.

General Zettour grimaced on the inside before returning to the topic at hand.

“We can follow Rudersdorf’s plan for mobilizing the troops and logistics. What we’re going to change is the main vector of attack. We will not be advancing with a wall of soldiers.”

“Are you going to utilize the same tactics you used in the east?”

“That’s correct. We’ll focus on penetrating their line by using tricks. This time, we’ll be using their roads.”

The carefree attitude with which he said this did not match the oversimplicity of the suggestion. Any officer who knew the current state of the Empire would have found the proposal incredibly difficult to swallow.

“You intend on having the soldiers use the roads to advance…? If we’re going to use the roads, sir, we will need air superiority.”

Roads were good for quick offensive thrusts. The lack of obstacles made it possible to move very fast on roads. However, the same lack of obstacles also made any soldiers using the roads prime targets. In other words, a single enemy aircraft could easily take out any soldiers or vehicles caught out on the roads. Without air support, even entertaining travel by road was out of the question.

“Sir, our air force stationed to the south is simply not capable of this mission. Due to peace along the Ildoan border, we’ve only set up the bare minimum of aerial defenses in the region.” As much as he didn’t like this fact, it was Colonel Lergen’s duty to share this information. “The plan I just finished reading only included limited aerial support, and we don’t have the aircraft to send more to the south. Therefore, I don’t think we can meet the prerequisites for a road-based offensive.”

You’re wrong about that, General Zettour seemed to say as he shook his head. He believed the principle behind concentration of force made it clear that it was most important when their overall firepower was lacking.

With an intrepid look about him, the general pointed out their options.

“We have the air force to the west. And to the east. In fact, there are aircraft just sitting in their airfields all across the fatherland, including the capital. We may be running low on planes, but we have more than enough to acquire temporary air superiority in a single location.”

“…You can’t be serious about this.”

“Does it sound like a joke to you? We’ll use the bombers that aren’t sent to destroy the enemy airports to blow apart their railroads as a declaration of war.”

The general’s words were nothing more than theory-craft, but they left Colonel Lergen speechless.

Air superiority.

Though only a theory, if they had this—

If they could eliminate the threat of enemy air with a surprise attack—

If they could deprive their enemy of any mobility and advance freely—

These questions were all within the realm of wild what-ifs. However, these possibilities were far too attractive to reject outright.

“What do you think, Colonel? I want to hear your insight. Do you think Ildoa could hold fast against an attack like this?”

“As far as I know, the Ildoan railroads are operating on their regular schedule.

Colonel Lergen knew this. Ildoa was enjoying peace; they were in no position to move quickly. Not a single Ildoan organization was worried that their country might be forcibly pulled into the war. In fact, the Ildoans were sure that the war would end without them ever getting involved so long as they didn’t open the hostilities.

This was why, with great conviction, Colonel Lergen shared his advice.

“They wouldn’t have any blockades prepared for us. In fact, in terms of aerial defenses for their airports…I believe it should be relatively easy for us to disable their runways.”

“How long do you suspect they would take to get their railroads and runways up and running again?”

“I believe Ildoa’s speed in this regard pales in comparison to the Federation’s.”

Hearing this, General Zettour clapped his hands with joy.

Clap, clap, clap.

The sound of his clapping filled the room with a calming rhythm before General Zettour finally shared his conclusion.

“Excellent. That means it is a war we can fight.”

His words were concise but filled with pride and confidence. If anything, he seemed completely convinced the Empire would emerge victorious.

As if the man were a conductor trying to etch his work into history, he continued to detail the stage he envisioned.

“We shall punch a hole in their defenses and incapacitate them with shock and awe. We’ll advance with an echelon formation. If we can penetrate their front line, the path will open up for us.”

“It will be challenging, but if this works…”

“We’ll make it work. If necessary, we will drive the troops forward with whips. Once the charge begins, there’s no stopping even newer soldiers.”

Orchestrating the attack wouldn’t be simple. Everything had changed since before the war, when the Empire’s instrument of violence was in perfect condition. The military had been reduced to a motley collection of young and old soldiers, with almost no in-between. In the current Imperial Army, the leaders needed to contrive ways to have their units move the way they intended. This went double for the officers in command out in the east.

The confidence in General Zettour’s suggestion to add momentum made it possible for Colonel Lergen to share this confidence. Their chances of victory were not insignificant. There were ample grounds for them to have hope. Though, this didn’t make it any easier for the colonel. His reservations weren’t about the strategy itself. The fact that he was discussing attacking the very country he was working on a peace deal with…made the man’s head spin.

As he tried to steady himself, Colonel Lergen realized his superior was staring at him.

“By the way, Colonel. I feel the need to ask… Are you all right…? You don’t look so well. Are you in good health?”

“…Well, there are many matters I’m concerned with at the moment.”

“Does it have to do with the reconciliation talks?”

Colonel Lergen nodded silently with a grim expression. The remorse for his mistake caused the good patriot great anguish. Had he succeeded, things would’ve never gotten this bad for either nation.

The confession of his inner turmoil was met with a smile.

“Oh, is that what’s got you worried? Colonel?”

“Yes…”

His superior, who’d just been calmly discussing war strategies, took on a gentler tone of voice as he addressed Colonel Lergen’s concerns.

“Colonel Lergen, take some time off.”

“I can’t be the only one resting when there’s so much to do…”

Though his sense of duty made him reject the offer, there was a different, extreme sense of discomfort that ran through his mind.

Something was off.

General Zettour was a demon to the core when it came to commanding his men. Was he the type to tell his subordinates to take time off out of consideration for their health? No, he was liable to send even his most exhausted soldiers into a battle of maneuver should the need arise.

What the general said next would directly address this discomfort that plagued his mind.

“You see, the commander for the eighth tank regiment we’ll be using in the assault has fallen ill.”

“Oh, I see.” Colonel Lergen understood the deeper meaning of this remark and wore an awkward grimace. He knew he was about to receive a new mission from General Zettour.

“I’m having a difficult time finding somebody to replace him. What do you say? I think some air would do your body good.”

“…I thought you were going to give me some time off?”

“Some say illness comes from miasma in the air. Moving to a place with better air can be quite effective when you’re not feeling well. I speak from a place of experience.”

General Zettour spoke in the spirit of it’s not what you say but how you say it. The place with better air was a hot war zone.

Though, strangely enough, there was a part of Colonel Lergen that felt it might actually be good for him.

“Exercising your mind and body outside the office can help eliminate needless concerns. And being able to focus on a single operation should make things easier on you.”

The general glanced at him, suggesting that he wouldn’t take no for an answer.

Something like this would usually be considered banishment…but judging by the extent his superior was willing to pour his heart and soul into the fight against Ildoa, the colonel realized he was needed at his new posting. The most compelling voice, though, came from the devil whispering in his mind.

If focusing on your work on the battlefield can push all this political and diplomatic business out of your mind, things might finally become more manageable for you.

So he accepted the offer without hesitation.

“Will I be given full authority over my task force?”

This was all that needed to be confirmed between the two strategists. His superior folded his arms and wore a grim expression as he shook his head.

“Unfortunately, you’d only be a temporary replacement. The resident staffer who’s filling in. Try to figure it out with the division commander.”

“So it will depend on who my superior is.”

There was a tone of reluctance in his voice. Not all division commanders would welcome a General Staff officer with open arms—especially not someone who might second-guess them or have a mind of their own.

Picking up on Colonel Lergen’s hesitation as he shared his concerns, General Zettour nodded.

“You’ll be Lieutenant General Jörg’s temporary deputy chief of staff. He oversees one of our central panzer units, but…seeing as you’re acquainted with each other, I’m sure you know all about it. That makes this fairly easy, right?”

Fortunately, Colonel Lergen was familiar with the lieutenant general.

“General Jörg and I both came up in the same regiment. He’s my senior.”

Being from the same regiment often created a strong bond between officers. There was a beautiful tradition in the Imperial Army for regimental mates to frequently meet up and share a dinner table. Sadly…mates from the same regiment and the food to put on the table had both been running thin ever since the start of the war.

Nevertheless, as they were both from the same regiment, Colonel Lergen knew Lieutenant General Jörg well. They were actually quite close. Working with him would give the colonel a chance to exercise his ability without reserve.

“In that case, it seems I made a good personnel choice purely by coincidence. If you’re both from the same regiment, it should be easy to grasp his temperament in the field and communicate.”

Was it really a coincidence? The Service Corps didn’t necessarily have jurisdiction over where soldiers were placed, but officers were a different story. This may have been the case under General Rudersdorf, but this was General Zettour he was dealing with here.

“I appreciate your thoughtfulness.”

General Zettour smiled as he watched Colonel Lergen give a brief bow.

“I bet you’re going to enjoy this. I’m jealous, Colonel.”

“To think I’d ever hear you say those words…”

Being out on the field always tested an officer’s wits. Ironically…many of the General Staff field officers found this to be the most entertaining posting. It was where they could use their authority to fight at a strategic level, and all of their menial tasks could be left to somebody else while they focused on the work at hand.

This was why General Zettour, who had unprecedented pressure weighing him down, half-jokingly expressed his jealousy.

“It’s true, though. Just look at me, I have to deal with all this trouble in the rear.” With all the authority in the world—and the pressure to go along with it—he continued. “I have to deal with the politicians, diplomats, and whatever other unrelated complications find their way to me, all on top of overseeing our national war strategy. I think I have the right to crack a joke or two.”

“Isn’t that a bit unrestrained?”

Colonel Lergen was uneasy as he knew this was a rude remark to make, but General Zettour met him with a surprisingly astonished gaze.

“Colonel, if we were fighting a winning battle, we could afford to get caught up in how miserable war can be. We could hate the war for how terrible it truly is. But I can guarantee from my experience in the east that it’s best to discard all your emotional baggage when you’re in a real predicament. It’s much better to try and enjoy yourself.”

THE SAME DAY, THE IMPERIAL CAPITAL

Orders are conveyed from superior to subordinate. There are never any exceptions in this regard. The same goes for the hit-and-run specialists in the Salamander Kampfgruppe who always do various, seemingly unreasonable tasks for the General Staff.

In this way, today, Tanya receives her orders from Colonel Lergen—the messenger.

I open the envelope and immediately start silently reading the documents inside. The first part I read is the date, the author, and the main objective. Confirming the order format is the basic first step when receiving new orders. After determining there is no problem on this front, I make my way through the general framework, only to find the blood draining from my face.

Steadying myself, I look to the messenger, who wears a grim expression. This means two things: he already knows the contents of the message, and the contents do not appear to be a joke.

I hastily start over to try and find anything I may have missed, but it appears my initial understanding of the orders is correct. It is enough to make Tanya physically wince.

She sighs, then voices her opinion.

“I’ve received your orders to murder the mediators.”

“This…isn’t what I wanted to happen, either. Quite far from it, actually. But we are soldiers and must carry out the orders we are given, no matter how shocking they may be. Do you have any objections?”

“I have none.”

Lower-ranking personnel lose their options once they formally receive lawful orders. It’s hard to call this authoritative relationship within the army ideal, but this is how the organization operates. As I am a good modern citizen who wishes to be sincere, I must do my job. The same goes for any civilian. It’s a fact of life that many employees have little choice but to comply when their company orders them to relocate. When it comes to the army, though, the orders can be more severe than simple relocation.

Thus, Tanya willingly swallows her discontent.

“Are you…sure you’re okay with this, Colonel?”

“That’s a strange question, Sir. I don’t have the luxury of choosing my orders… A soldier can only have an opinion up until the moment they are given orders. Now that the orders have been given, my only option is to remove any obstacles that get in my way and thoroughly execute them.”

Colonel Lergen reluctantly nods in agreement. It should be added that there is more resignation than understanding in his gesture.

“You’re right, Colonel. But, I wonder if these orders are right…”

“Is there something the matter, sir?”

Tanya asks this with good intentions, worrying about him being overworked, overstressed, or sleep-deprived, but Colonel Lergen shares his true concerns with a strained voice.

“They are the mediator… Ildoa is the only country that can mediate for us. You know this, Colonel. We’re about to destroy our only path out of this war.”

Hearing his words of anxiety, Tanya is confident she’s figured out the problem.

It’s an issue of narrowmindedness—likely similar to the same problem Imperial Japan faced.

“Sir. Is there a need for a mediator?”

“What?”

There is no need to limit yourself to a single partner in negotiations. We’re not the Kwantung Army facing off with the Soviet Union on the border of Manchuria being forced to negotiate a cease-fire or be surrounded. Relying too much on a mediator can be a dangerous thing. Japan’s historical failure in relying too heavily on the Soviet Union to make its reconciliation speaks volumes about this. Anyone who knows Japanese history knows there are other ways to do this. Reconciliation is still possible, even without a mediator.

Isn’t knowing your history just great?

That’s why Tanya can always speak from a place of confidence… If anything, she speaks out of the kindness of her heart in an attempt to relieve some of the colonel’s stress.

“Why not negotiate directly with our enemies?”

This would solve all our problems. Even if it doesn’t, just seeing another potential solution is enough to relieve a worker of some of their mental burden. This is a basic HR technique. I expect a word of thanks for the advice. I feel I deserve that much, but…

“Negotiate with an enemy we’re currently at war with…? Are you insane, Colonel?”

The response goes against all expectations. Though she is suspicious as to why he would react this way, being the great communicator she’s proud to be, Tanya will give him the clue he needs.

“Excuse me, Colonel Lergen, but by insane, do you mean in the context of war or peace?

“I guess I don’t have the luxury to pick.”

There is loneliness in Colonel Lergen’s smile after he appears to convince himself of something.

“We kill our friends. We negotiate with the enemy. We kill the mediator—this isn’t the proper way to fight a war. The Empire’s rampage has reached its limits…”

“What do you expect? This is war.”

“That’s a convenient way of putting it.”

I offer a vague smile. I wasn’t expecting a response. Colonel Lergen looks defeated as he stares at the ceiling and continues.

“War, eh? I’ve only just realized the duality of war. The flames of war burn away our rationality and common sense.”

Colonel Lergen looks exhausted as he discusses the dreadful nature of war.

“This is why people who fight on the rear for too long end up broken men… Maybe I should consider my time in the east a sort of vaccine. I should probably thank you.”

“If I helped in any way, it was my honor to do so.”

“Yes, thank you, Lieutenant Colonel Degurechaff. Thanks to you…I may have found what I need to properly participate in this war.”

“Is it not your nation that sends you off to fight, sir?”

Colonel Lergen stares blankly for a moment before bursting into laughter.

“Ha-ha-ha, that’s probably a better way to think about it. It would be better for my health. Now…Lieutenant Colonel Degurechaff. I need you to kill some Ildoans for me.”

“Yes, sir. Tell me, how do you like your pasta?”

“I like it cut it up nice and thin. You don’t need as much water to boil that way.”

“Just give the command and I’ll prepare you a nice Ildoan dinner, sir.”

“I will—if I have the chance. They’re going to overwork you on reserve duty for this one.”

“More unreasonable demands…as always.”

Lieutenant Colonel Degurechaff shows a markedly human reaction: a wry smile. It’s a strange sight to see, though. Judging by her age, Tanya should be a young lady by now…and yet, she still hasn’t grown an inch since the colonel met her for the first time on the battlefield. If she showed an amiable smile, it would be that of a little girl. Nevertheless, her current wry smile is that of an old soldier.

He’d never understand this, but it doesn’t really matter. They both share the same fate of being used and abused by General Zettour.

Being one of the general’s most abused subordinates himself, Colonel Lergen almost sees Lieutenant Colonel Degurechaff as a comrade in arms as she is about to be sent to the hottest part of the battlefield.

“I’ll be on the front lines as well in Ildoa. Let’s both do our best together.”

OCTOBER 19, UNIFIED YEAR 1927, THE INTELLIGENCE HQ FOR THE COMMONWEALTH

The hangovers took their toll on the agents. Enjoying the best alcohol always came with a painful price. General Habergram sat in his office, smoking a cigar while he faced a new, challenging predicament. There was something gallant about the sincere man, full of pride. It didn’t matter what others would say; Mr. John, who stood next to his desk, would never forget what he thought when he saw the sight.

Even during times of anguish, a gentleman is still a gentleman.

“We should recognize that we misread the situation.”

Mr. John let out a small sigh on the inside as he agreed with a defeated General Habergram.

Just exactly what is going on?

They’d intended on removing a titan, General Rudersdorf, from the war. It should’ve been a significant blow to the Imperial Army, but it was hard to describe the results as such. Though they disposed of a single monster, to their bewilderment, there was a second titan in General Zettour, who took his seat at the top of the General Staff Office before they knew it.

There wasn’t even enough time to blink. Could it be that the man predicted this would happen…? Was it one of the reoccurring leaks that brought intel on the assassination to General Zettour’s hands? Though the idea was close to delusional, both General Habergram and Mr. John couldn’t deny it outright.

Either way, one thing was for sure. With a look of great annoyance, it was as General Habergram was willing to admit.

“That con artist was willing to abandon his post in the east to rise and take his dead friend’s spot in the capital. Given the rapid rate at which things are changing, this was likely the best decision for the Imperial Army…but still, is the man some kind of monster?”

The general had moved far quicker than they could have imagined. By the time the Commonwealth Intelligence Agency was astounded by this information, the General Staff had come together and, by whatever means, managed to force the decision to be passed by the Emperor and his government.

It was too fast-paced to even call decisive. They were still putting the glasses they made their toasts with away when they found out about the new development; there was no way they could’ve done anything to stop him.

The sheer speed at which he moved sent chills down their spines. The con artist must’ve been an Imperial version of a Commonwealth agent. Either that, or a monster by birth.

In the face of the ominous General Zettour’s rising, Mr. John murmured in fear and astonishment.

“The man is a monster… Just when we thought we finally pulled one over on them, they go and flip the table.”

He held his hands up as if to show his surrender while shaking his head and sighing.

“My apologies, but I think we may have to tighten up our operation.”

The trouble kept piling on. A leak alone was a big problem, but it was even worse if General Zettour could react to their every move by pure instinct.

Was the military monstrosity just as formidable when it came to politics? Mr. John wished he could respectfully ask the man to restrain himself, which was why the gentleman would allow himself to make an idle complaint.

“This General Zettour acts more like a Federation general… Actually, if I’m being honest here, he moves like one of our own. How did he end up an Imperial general?”

“I know, Mr. Johnson. This couldn’t get any more cumbersome. I’ve had the analysts working all night to reevaluate the Imperial General Staff.”

With this newest development being a vital blow to their self-esteem, they were trying to learn more about the man than he knew about himself. They began gathering any and all material on him. This included interrogating their prisoners, as well as going so far as to exchange information with the Federation.

Mr. Kim, who was in charge of Federation intel, grimaced and questioned whether this was worth it. Nevertheless, he made sure to thoroughly exhaust all channels available to him. While General Habergram respected his professional opinion, he insisted it was necessary. It made sense for Kim and the other managers to be cautious when there was a suspected leak, but this was a matter of utmost importance.

Mr. John gave a wry smile as he commented:

“How do they keep being one step ahead of us?”

It was painful for anyone to lose face to this extent. Even the hardest of oak desks would dent if its owner repeatedly hit it hard enough. It was the same logic for an organization. Fortunately, the Commonwealth Intelligence Agency quickly got a hold of the situation. Unfortunately, the reality that was making itself more and more evident was provoking enough to make one worry for the safety of General Habergram’s new desk.

“Things don’t look good, though. For the Empire very well may be under the control of Zettour and his gang.”

“His gang?”

“The three big scoundrels: General Zettour, Colonel Lergen, and Lieutenant Colonel Uger. There is a chance they’ve effectively removed the Empire’s Supreme High Command from the decision-making process.”

“Setting aside General Zettour, the two officers… Wait, did you say Lergen? As in, the leader of the Lergen Kampfgruppe?”

Mr. John had heard the name before, and his memory served him right.

“He was in charge of the task force in the east. You’ve heard of him before. He is one of Mr. Drake’s most loathed opponents.”

“But still, it’s just a single task force, right?”

“He is similar to you. In other words, an essential person.”

This was a troublesome comment for Mr. John.

“You’re comparing me to him? You’re too kind.”

“I’m being serious, though.”

“Well, now you’re just taking me for a ride.”

This was their boss’s actual assessment…though it was also a personal opinion. The general had to stop himself from telling Mr. John how much his boss appreciated him.

Either way, this colonel named Lergen was much more than a regular officer. General Habergram was sure that he was a threat.

“Let’s cut to the chase. Lergen has been…showing up to diplomatic negotiations in Ildoa. The man is likely General Zettour’s eyes and ears. In a way, he is an ideal Imperial-made officer, that man.”

“And what about this Uger fellow?”

“He’s a railway worker. He does the train schedules for the General Staff.”

“He’s a fine military officer. But if I’m being frank here, he’s just a part of their organization. Is there a reason to include him in Zettour’s so-called gang?”

Mr. John’s superior pointedly opened up a confidential envelope before plopping a pile of documents in front of Mr. John. He looked at the papers; they were written in Imperial. Were they Imperial documents?

“We acquired these documents in the west. Look through them. There is an inconceivably flexible train schedule put in place to keep the war front running. I wish our local trains were even half this organized.”

“These are incredible… He’s created quite the convenient schedule.”

Mr. John committed Uger’s name to memory. It was almost menacing, the level of efficiency the man managed to make possible. A variety of criteria must be met for train schedules to operate, and yet he’d met all of them for every station, allowing for both public and military use of the trains to work without trouble. He was no amateur—and definitely a problem.

With a small sigh, Mr. John shared his malice.

“Fate can be so unfair. It makes one wonder if the Goddess of Arbitration favors the Empire. And here we are, left to our own damned devices.”

“Yes,” General Habergram agreed.

“It makes me want to destroy what I can’t have.”

“How much longer will this man be alive?”

“Probably for a long time. He rarely leaves the capital.”

Was he a workaholic, or was the Imperial Army being prudent? Either way, it wasn’t likely the honest railway worker would find himself in an unfortunate accident in the near future.

Being the pious person the general was, the lack of divine grace was…truly regrettable.

“Perhaps it’s time we send in the air force.”

The suggestion to firebomb the Imperial headquarters was shot down immediately by General Habergram.

“I’m not a fan of rolling the dice.”

“Do you prefer cards?”

Mr. John jested before changing the subject to a more lighthearted one. Unfortunately for them both, time was as precious as diamonds for His Majesty’s Royal Intelligence agents.

“Now, sir, what was it you called me here for again? If you’re looking for somebody to discuss matters of a highly confidential nature, I can go grab a mirror for you.”

His joke was met with nothing but a single glance. General Habergram’s humor was running thin due to the prolonged war. The lack of sarcasm in the serious explanation he gave Mr. John alerted the agent to his superior’s overt exhaustion.

“According to one of our top-secret sources, this trio is on the move.”

“Due east?”

Despite how sure he was, the general shook his head.

“The cryptic song the telegraph sings suggests they are making arrangements to murder the Ildoans.”

“Oh!”

So their destination is Ildoa! This made Mr. John stand up straight in attention without even realizing it.

They were heading not east, but south.

“They’re going to mount an attack against Ildoa under these conditions? And here I thought the Imperialists at least still had their wits about them.”

“The signing of an armed neutrality agreement must have been too much for them to swallow. I’m sure they intend on knocking the country out of the picture before the Unified States soldiers arrive.”

“I suppose that makes sense, but I find it hard to believe they have the manpower to pull it off. With General Zettour at their helm, surely they know this—and that’s setting aside how preposterous the idea is in the first place.”

Though he had a terrible feeling about the news, his instincts were shrouded in a veil of vagueness. He wanted to take a smoke break to gather his thoughts. As far as he knew, there was no way the Empire could win against a third front.

“Have our predictions for their soldiers on the southern border changed at all? Even if they managed to strengthen their border, they’d never make it over the line.”

“Read this.”

The documents handed to Mr. John told the story of a handful of divisions relocating.

They were train records and documents on the redistribution of aircraft.

“Sorry…but are these numbers accurate?”

“It is a bold but effective move. General Zettour is willing to give up air coverage in every other region to take out Ildoa.”

Oh my, Mr. John thought as he blinked in surprise.

Anyone who wasn’t a soldier would know the term air superiority purely by definition, but for soldiers at war, who had seen the word play out with their two eyes and knew what it truly meant. Calculations quickly ran through Mr. John’s mind.

The enemy was General Zettour.

On the Ildoan side…would it be General Gassman doing the fighting? While the man certainly wasn’t incompetent, he was run-of-the-mill, and moreover, he came from a political background. Even worse was the fact that he’d yet to experience total war.

“This may not be good for them…”

“You think it will be that bad?”

“General Zettour is the most accomplished con artist of our times. I’m afraid if the Ildoans have to take him on for the first time, they won’t be able to put up much of a fight.”

Even the Federation, with its advantages in both numbers and experience, was often at the mercy of the general. Against General Zettour, who was the master of acquiring limited local dominance, it was hard to expect the wet-behind-the-ears Ildoans to be able to hold out for long.

The agent felt a strange feeling.

“Should we tell the army to advance the date for our counteroffensive on the continent?”

“The hell we will.”

The unfortunate answer to his question was put bluntly.

“Why must we send our young to die for the sake of the Ildoans? It’s time they reap what they sowed for remaining neutral for so long.”

“It will be difficult to stand by and watch while this happens to them…”

It was just a bad feeling, and with that being all he had, there was nothing left for Mr. John to say.

As his last stance, he would add…

“We’ll have to hope the analysts give us a stellar enough analysis to clear their names.”

OCTOBER 20, UNIFIED YEAR 1927, THE INTELLIGENCE HQ FOR THE COMMONWEALTH

Merely handling work that’s given to you makes you a third-rate worker. Go above and beyond the call, and finally, you’re second-rate. If you want to be first-rate, you must prepare to finish your work before it is sent to you.

When it came to handling their work, the Commonwealth Intelligence agents were far from incompetent. Their accomplishments spoke for themselves, but even more important was the pride they had. Being the professionals they were, their dignity wouldn’t allow them to lose a second time. They had no time to be depressed as they pushed forward to their next task.

With revenge in their hearts, they decrypted the Imperial messages and, without a moment’s waste, drew up as many scenarios to base their predictions on as they could.

The Commonwealth analysts did not choose their means when it came to love and war. Surrounded by a thick haze of smoke and with ale fueling their veins, the sharp-tongued thinkers racked their brains with all their might to get an answer. They’d already been tricked by General Zettour once, but it was surprising how accurate the picture they painted could be when they were out for revenge.

On the wall of the office was a big map of the Imperial Army’s movements.

About twice a day, the locations for different divisions would be updated, with additional units, including certain panzer units, coming together day by day. Before long, it was amazingly clear that the aerial divisions were being prioritized in their deployment.

Though very limited, it was evident that the Empire would acquire air superiority in Ildoa. The future was also as clear as day when looking at the preparations laid out on a map.

The gloves were off for the Empire. This could no longer be taken as a bluff, and with a new battle on the horizon, the analysts were greatly troubled.

“Have we sent a warning to Ildoa?”

“We’ve sent many.”

The intelligence agents let out sighs mixed with both anguish and surprise. This was a side effect of their nation’s lack of appreciation for diplomacy. They did everything they could to strip the Empire away from Ildoa. It was the obvious thing for the Commonwealth to do, but as a result…they’d long been sending message after message warning of the Imperial threat.

Thus, Ildoa had grown used to hearing this warning. For the Commonwealth to be up in arms about the Empire was like the boy who cried wolf by this point. Any insistence that this time it was for real would be taken with more than a grain of salt.

So was it fair to assume that the gentlemen had done their jobs?

With the levels of pessimism reaching a new high, a new viewpoint would be thrown into the mix.

“Should we tell the Ildoans about the attack beforehand? We could consider sending them our sources, which would make for a better, clearer warning.”

A well-known section manager would start this debate.

“Why would you suggest something like that, Kim?”

“First, we must consider the gravity of a second front. Second, failure to do so could spell the end for diplomacy with Ildoa. And third, it would be insurance. If Ildoa were to fall, it would be bad for the entire war front, and it would certainly bring us into a second front.”

The manager brought up three important, factual points. But his peers would find it difficult to agree.

“I see what you’re getting at…but it is hard for us to tell how weak Ildoa really is.”

They knew that the Empire was likely the superior power. But just how superior were they? This they had yet to agree upon.

Not to mention, if the Unified States were to join the battle…it would certainly be difficult for the Empire to come out on top.

“The Ildoans are strengthening their border at the moment, right?”

“Yes, but it doesn’t look like it will be enough to fight against what’s coming. If General Zettour were to hit them with an ambush, he could slip right through their border.”

“If that is the case…then the problem is how far the Ildoan army will be forced to retreat.”

“Isn’t it the opposite? It’s more like, how far is the Imperial Army capable of pushing them in the first place.”

As the lively discussion came to a close, it settled on the question of how far the Empire could advance into the country in a single attack.

They would ambush the country, with ample firepower and air superiority.

It was pretty clear that the Ildoan army wouldn’t be able to defend the northernmost part of its country. The same went for any soldiers on the field, as it would be hard for them to put up a real fight against the Imperial soldiers. The Commonwealth Intelligence agents even came up with substantial evidence that the poor soldiers might be wiped out entirely…

And yet, they couldn’t discount the laws of physics the Empire was bound to, either.

“I give them two weeks at most. The Empire is catching heat in their eastern theater from the Federation. They’re running low on artillery, and what missiles they do have they can’t even transport anymore due to their worn-down logistics network.”

“It will probably end with them stealing some land from Ildoa in the north.”

“That must be their target: to create a line of defense between them and the south.”

With that general summation settled upon, the Commonwealth Intelligence analysts came to a humble conclusion.

“I guess we’ll just have to wait and see what they’ve got.”

They were going to watch Ildoa and the Empire go at it. The Commonwealth would send their silent words of endearment from their hearts.