That said, they couldn't cower. How much do you think numerical superiority will really
matter? the realistic part of his head sneered, but he suppressed it and encouraged his
unit to drive the attackers away from the batteries.
"Beat them back!"
What else could he say?
"Go! Get 'em!"
All he could do was scream and lead his troops in the charge.
He chose to do it, but it was also his only choice. But it should probably be said…
Sue looked up at the sky. I guess God isn't smiling on me.
"Ngh?! That's—"
"Colonel Sue?"
Dear God, why…? Why is she here?
"This one's pesky as rust. Take some distance and fire to suppress. Do not let her get
in close!"
She's got that obnoxious alias White Silver or whatever. When it came to an enemy who
fought bitterly against his own unit and got an award out of it, he remembered news
from an enemy country. With all the blood she has on her hands, her alias is White
Silver? Ha, the Empire has no talent for coming up with names.
Might as well call her Rusted Silver, looking like that.
A devil spattered and rusted in the blood of his fellow soldiers. There was no way for
him to mistake that detestable girl—his sworn enemy.
Dear God, I pray. Give me the strength to destroy that devil.
Sue even prayed as he shot the formula, and just as an attack filled with fervent hopes
should, it plowed into the enemy formation.
Or rather, things happened as he expected.
They scattered, taking barely any damage, and sped toward him with no hesitation.
Still, that didn't mean he could back down. There was no way he could withdraw.
He was carrying a submachine gun. If that mage would just get in range, he would turn
her into honeycomb. With that thought in mind, Sue eagerly charged.
In terms of inability to withdraw, Major von Degurechaff's unit is in the same boat.
Tanya inwardly feels that she is being seriously overworked for her salary, but even if
she wants to declare, This isn't in my contract and fly away, that's not how the army
works.
Rules have to be followed.
If a regiment of mages had moved in to attack, perhaps she could have used numbers
as an excuse to run away. But when both the enemy mages and your own are battalionsized groups, you can't get away with excuses—though she wants to flee, she can't. In
a case like this, the army says to put up a fight.
"Tch! These guys are tough. Attack in platoon formations!"
As she thinks how badly she wants to run, she realizes that if she did, the career she
had spent all this time building up would disappear, and she would be helpless to stop
it. Reluctantly, even grudgingly, she has to take on some degree of risk and fight.
The only way to thwart gaps in firepower and numbers is to dart in for melee. At close
quarters, there is a greater danger of misfire; as a result, the imbalance in firepower
stemming from the disparity in numbers decreases somewhat. More importantly, if
they bring the fight to an individual level instead of organizational, the imperial mages
will definitely have the advantage.
"Get above them!"
"Don't let them get above you!"
Crisscrossing gunfire and formulas. The scene displays the very essence of mana
science technology, a fantasy where the practical modern advances of civilization are
having their day. Sadly, it's a picture painted only in blood and iron.
In the end, though, the impact of numerical superiority will be felt. If it becomes a
battle of attrition, the side with more mate riel and men will be declared the winners.
"Oh, the reinforcements are here?"
"Shit! Again? More reinforcements?"
A regiment is approaching. Openly jubilant as she notices indications of their arrival,
Tanya is sure of her victory, while Colonel Sue is devastated. As such, their voices
reflect their situations—the former's is very cheerful and the latter's sounds helpless
and bitter.
"Major von Degurechaff, what's the status of the seizure operation?"
"Below they're sweeping up, but I'm currently fighting an enemy unit. Requesting
backup."
"Understood! You two battalions, support the major! The rest of you, head for the
interior."
And in her straightforward exchange with the commander of the reinforcements, her
remarks are businesslike to ensure the operation proceeds smoothly. The two of them
are so in control of the situation, they're no longer worried about whether they will
succeed or not; instead, they're thinking of what comes next.
The coastal guns are being seized, the enemy unit can be eliminated, and the imperial
transport ships are coming into view across the bay. The scene below makes all the
Imperial Army soldiers feel that they are moving step-by-step closer to victory.
Victory… It will be an established fact in the Imperial Army's near future.
Colonel Sue's beloved fatherland no longer had the power to object
-x-X-x-
THE SAME DAY, THE REPUBLIC, CHANNEL COMMAND
-x-X-x-
"Alert from the early warning line!"
The observation units along the warning line had an alert. What that meant was clear:
The imperial fleet was on the move.
This was the chance for a naval battle they had been hoping for. The tension at
Command peaked all at once.
"Order DEFCON 1. So they're finally coming out."
We've been waiting.
That's practically what the commander was saying, and his feelings were shared by all
the other members of the Republican Navy. While the army was fighting a grueling
battle on the Rhine lines, the navy was ridiculed as slackers. This was an opportunity
to clear its name; they had been looking forward to this chance to support their troops.
"Er, they have…transport ships with them? Why?!"
But the enemy movements they had longed for completely betrayed their
expectations. The latest update on the imperial fleet indicated that, contrary to their
hopes, it had no intention of engaging in a naval battle. The fleet maneuver they had
predicted was happening, but the warships were leaving the port accompanied by
several transport ships.
Unless the movement was a long one, it was hard to imagine a unit of battleships
sailing with slow, vulnerable transport ships—which is precisely why upon hearing
about those vessels, the clever ones among them immediately speculated upon what
might be inside and were assailed by a type of foreboding.
…What could be in there? Common sense would say coal, oil, food for the troops,
ammunition, spare parts, and so on—things the unit would need on a long operation.
But there was no way the Imperial Navy would take a leisurely cruise around the
world right now. In that case, the ships had to be taking something important to where
it was needed.
The Command personnel all waited with bated breath for the next report. The
atmosphere was so tense their uneasiness was burning them up inside.
"Spike 04 to HQ. The imperial fleet is setting course to the north. I say again, course to
the north!"
"Ngh! An amphibious operation?"
Of course, they all felt like they'd been whacked in the back of the head when they
understood.
After all, this was the worst possible development for the Republic. It had been their
worst nightmare ever since one corner of the encirclement, Dacia, had crumbled—the
fear that the Entente Alliance would collapse as well. And now as they could see the
Imperial Northern Army Group planning an offensive, the Entente Alliance's main
forces were tied up on the front.
…If the rear logistics base were seized in a landing operation, it would mean they had
failed to avoid another Dacia. War could no longer be fought with superior ground
forces alone, and if the rear supply lines were cut, the army's fate would be tragedy.
In the back of their minds, a few senior officers remembered the plans for the Imperial
Army's amphibious operation, delivered in utmost secret from the Commonwealth. If
the Entente Alliance were to fall like Dacia, how much would that increase the burden
on their beloved fatherland?
"Ready the fleet and the marine mages to sortie on the double! They're planning to
land in the Entente Alliance's rear area." In came another enemy status report.
Increasingly agitated, Command notified them that they should hurry up and send out
the fleet. But one report made them all freeze. All the hubbub faded in an instant and
dissipated.
"…Are you sure?"
"There's no mistake! Subs and enemy mages are forming a restraining line!"
The primary mission of the Republican Channel Fleet was to confront and annihilate
the Imperial High Seas Fleet. But while the Republic had to split their main forces
between the north and south, the Empire could concentrate their naval power in the
north. With the Northern Sea and High Seas Fleets combining forces, the Republican
Channel Fleet would be forced into a disadvantageous position.
A fight that was once seven on seven had just been joined by three enemy
reinforcements. Fighting a ten-on-seven battle wasn't impossible, but it was far from
the numbers they would like to see.
Even if they got backup from the Entente Alliance, it probably wouldn't help very
much. Meanwhile, the Northern Sea Fleet may have been small, but it featured a lineup of relatively new models. Its flagship, the Helgoland, was the first of the state-of-theart Helgoland class. In terms of capital ships, the Channel Fleet would be
overwhelmed.
If under those circumstances, the Empire had chosen them as its opponent, even if
they ended up getting cut in the process, they could probably have thwarted its aims.
But that hope was only feasible if the imperial fleet chose to meet them for a knife
fight. Instead it was futile because the enemy ships were paying them no mind and
heading in a different direction. They were leisurely escorting the transport ships
north. It was certain—completely certain—that if they landed successfully, the
Entente Alliance would fall. So the only time to take a risk was now. They had been
lucky to discover them so early.
If they had naively gone out to challenge them to a naval battle unawares, they
probably would have been sneak attacked and forced to flee in a panic. Discovering
them first was truly good fortune. The problem now was how to handle the situation.
"Request backup from army mages! Send in the patrol boats and do anything
necessary to beat a path to the capital ship!"
Will we make it? It only lasted a moment, but the doubt that flitted across the minds
of the Channel Fleet Command personnel was serious. Whether or not the Republic's
nightmare of the Entente Alliance collapsing came true hinged on them making it in
time. We just have to. They were determined.
"Send out any ship available! Full-power sortie!"
Sadly, they were out of luck.
As they raised fists and were about to advance toward the enemy, they received bad
news from the military attache in the Entente Alliance and understood. They had been
too late. And so they swore with all their might that Next time… Next time, we'll get
them.
-x-X-x-
DECEMBER 4, UNIFIED YEAR 1924, COMMONWEALTH, LONDINIUM,
UNDISCLOSED LOCATION
-x-X-x-
After the shocking report that the Imperial Navy had taken an amphibious force to the
Osfjord and launched a decisive landing operation, the atmosphere in the room was
unbearably bitter.
The agony of the deteriorating situation was so terrible that it even dashed all hope
for the nearing Christmas leave. Contrary to the Commonwealth's futile wish that the
Empire, Republic, and Entente Alliance would just destroy one another, the Empire
continued to pile on victories. By virtue of their shared view on the situation, the
entire group of people connected to the Commonwealth's intelligence agency had
fallen to the gloom. But the office itself wasn't out of sorts. The unpleasantness of the
situation was due to the foul mood of the office's chief occupant, Major General Donald
Habergram, which was permeating the room to a preposterous extent. He had a
difficult personality to begin with, and now he was especially irritated.
Heads would roll at the first careless remark. The radio operator who saw the next
notification that arrived was truly lucky. Normally, delivering a report was as nerveracking as being shoved into a minefield, but this time was different.
To be blunt—it wasn't bad news! How many days had it been since he had nearly run
like this to inform his superior? Since Dacia had fallen? Of course, since it was his job,
he couldn't be swayed by likes or dislikes, but it was true that there was nothing he
hated more than reporting bad news.
"Urgent message from the auxiliary ship Lytol."
"Let's hear it."
Without flinching at the disgruntled tone, he relayed the facts in a straightforward
way. They had received reports from their intelligence-collecting ships disguised as
civilian vessels as well as their armed merchant cruisers, but out of all the messages,
this one was sent at the highest emergency-level priority, even using a onetime pad.
He'd thought it would be exceptionally horrible news, but when he deciphered it, to
his surprise, it wasn't bad, at least. Well, he wasn't sure if it was something to get very
happy about, but anyhow.
"The Entente Alliance is requesting transport of a VIP."
The content of the request was transporting a VIP. More specifically, the person in
question was one of the ten councilors of state who, in practical terms, held the most
authority in the nation. Essentially, the Entente Alliance, no longer concerned about
appearances, was shedding decorum in order to establish a government in exile. That
was much better than the country obediently surrendering to the Empire. And it
wasn't necessarily a wholly bad development in terms of the Commonwealth's
national interests, either.
"…Isn't that Foreign Office business?"
But to the one receiving the message, it seemed like the matter was out of their
jurisdiction. The job of the Foreign Strategy Division was planning and analysis. They
were decidedly not a contact point. In fact, they wanted to avoid any actions that could
compromise their intelligence gathering, as much as possible. Honestly, they were
loath to get involved.
Ordinarily, it was the Foreign Office that accepted diplomatic requests. In the case of
the Entente Alliance, the official channel was through the embassy on the ground
there. And would the heads of a country really try to negotiate asylum directly with a
room in the strategy division of the intelligence agency? It wasn't unthinkable to
assume they must have just contacted the wrong place.
The radio operator understood the higher-ranking officer's suspicion immediately. He
had the same doubts. Still, he had to give a short explanation, even to General
Habergram, who hated wasting time.
"Someone from the Entente Alliance Navy made contact personally."
"Did they find us out? If so, all I can think is that we have a huge security leak
somewhere."
"No, it seems they've contacted all our vessels."
They hadn't called a ship from the Commonwealth's intelligence agency. No, the ship
just happened to be the auxiliary ship Lytol. Actually, they had tried every vessel
stopping at the Entente Alliance.
Though they were deeply concerned about the possibility of an intelligence leak, in this case, the request was simply the natural outcome. Surely the caller was just trying
their luck. In that case, however, they were dealing with a bothersome amateur.
"No regard for appearances, hmm? What a bad move. Do you have the list?"
"Here it is. It seems the others were just regular ferries."
This had to be the worst way to go about it. If you seek help indiscriminately, word
will definitely get out somehow. As more people learn a secret, the risk of it being
leaked grows exponentially. And their opponent in this case is the Empire, waging war
seriously as a world power. He couldn't imagine that imperial intelligence was slacking
off. So if these guys were trying to pull off a secret asylum operation, they should
probably proceed with a bit more caution. Well, maybe he couldn't expect so much
from the Entente Alliance government, now in a state of panic and dysfunction.
Even if they weren't planning on doing it in secret, the fact that the heads of
government were preparing to flee would no doubt demoralize the citizens…although
they may very well shift toward nationalistic resistance, so it was also possible to
imagine a hopeful outcome.
The timing was delicate, given they were expecting a large-scale imperial offensive on
the northern lines at just about any moment. Honestly, if word of this spread now, it
could weaken Entente Alliance resistance. But if it held out heroically and the
government called for resistance…it might have a chance.
If that happened, the Empire would be forced to tie up troops in Entente Alliance
territory, unlike in Dacia.
"What should we do, sir? If we're going to accept, we need to hurry."
Actually, in the case of Dacia, things had happened so quickly that the government-inexile idea didn't work out. With that failure behind them, they knew that this issue
demanded a rapid response. They were receiving the message right when they keenly
felt the need to play a card. An Operations officer asked a question, taking the initiative
to suggest it wouldn't be wise to pass on this turn: "Shouldn't we make a move?"
"I'm opposed. I don't think anything good will come of drawing attention to our armed
merchant cruisers."
From elsewhere came a proposal for cautious handling of the situation. After all, armed merchant cruisers were already in violation of international law as well as
various states' laws. If their orders to collect intelligence and disrupt trade were
exposed, there would be an uproar. Disguising armed vessels as merchant ships to get
them into the port was a legal problem. In a worst-case scenario, all the crew members
would be declared pirates and arrested.
Even if breaking international law didn't nag their conscience, every evil organization
needs calculated reluctance based on profits and loss.
You weren't supposed to break treaties; you were supposed to force the other party to
break them.
At least, General Habergram intended to toe the line of what he could get away with
at the bounds of international law.
"I want to avoid being boarded either way. How's the loading going?"
Although they shared the same thought, the leader's idea was somewhat different.
After all, they knew a little bit more than the others—that Intelligence was proactively
working to clear their bad name after Dacia and had learned several interesting things.
"I think it's almost done…"
"…Then at this point a little extra cargo won't make much difference. Who is the VIP?"
After all, the Intelligence agents had counted their chickens before they had hatched
and suggested it was because Dacia collapsed so readily that the Republic and the
Entente Alliance had more time to construct third lines. They thought this would be a
good time to redeem themselves. Intelligence collection and analysis was proceeding
at a fantastic pace on the northern lines, and they were really getting results.
The intelligence that the auxiliary ship had so rapidly acquired and the machinery
they had used was secretly on board. They had even learned that the Imperial Navy
was planning a landing operation.
So it went without saying that an inspection of that ship would be bad. That said, they
already had so much dangerous cargo that adding something new wouldn't do
anything.
He didn't think throwing in a little more problematic cargo would change their situation much.
"A councilor."
One of the ten councilors of state establishing a government in exile in the
Commonwealth was fraught with political implications. Officers couldn't work in
Intelligence unless they had a nose for understanding politics, so it was evident to all
of them. That probably went for any outstanding staff officer.
It was no small thing for a politician at the level of minister of state to be appointed as
a government in exile by the previous government with the proper authority.
And General Habergram was far from inept—which was why he hesitated.
"…Wait a moment."
It was certainly true that if they succeeded in getting him asylum, that achievement
would overshadow their previous failure. They might be able to prevent the nightmare
of the Empire smoothly building government organizations, as it was doing in Dacia,
from happening in the Entente Alliance. That was how well the man in charge here
understood the issues.
But that would all only happen if the bid for asylum succeeded. If it failed, the political
and diplomatic risks were huge. Additionally, the fallout was so far-reaching that this
matter was far above what General Habergram could decide on his own.
And he was a person who knew the extent of his authority. He understood very well
what wasn't up to his discretion. That was precisely why he was selected to hold the
reins. His ability to make calm judgments and not go off the rails was valued.
In actuality, the reason they had thrown someone so toxic in there was to get the
department under control. He swiftly had a document prepared, took it, and stood.
This was a matter that demanded extra attention to confidentiality. And so, taking a
few escorts along, he left at once for the Office of the Admiralty.
"Habergram here. Is the First Lord of the Admiralty in?"
A military policeman stood guarding the office. Habergram had to put up with the duty
officer's suspicious look, given the man's job.
He himself had always been terribly nervous when he had to stop officers of a higher
rank when he was younger. With that in mind, he made a mental note that this officer
had to be quite a serious-minded young man.
"He is. Do you have an appointment?"
"No. There's an urgent matter I'd like to ask him about."
After the duty officer confirmed a few things, the general was shown into the office.
As soon as he ran inside, he asked everyone else to leave. After all the attendants had
been sent away, he made sure no one else was around and then gave his report.
"General, I trust you can make this quick."
"Sir, something I'm unable to handle on my discretion alone has occurred."
He passed the First Lord the summary he had prepared. At the same time, he gave him
the outline verbally. As he watched his superior look over the document, he supplied
more detailed explanations as necessary to help him understand.
Anyhow, every second counted. There could be no hesitation, but at the same they
couldn't act thoughtlessly. That was why the basis of the decision, the report, had to
be given as quickly as possible. The Entente Alliance was collapsing with each passing
moment. The life of the country, measured by an hourglass, had begun trickling away.
If they wanted to save its invaluable political fruits, they had to act basically right now.
"An Entente Alliance councilor is requesting carriage via our auxiliary ship."
"What a hairy situation. There aren't any civilian vessels of Commonwealth nationality
anchored in the area?"
Politically, creating the government in exile and getting in the Empire's way was a
promising choice. But it was the difficulty of the task that he was considering and thus
asking about.
The reason was crystal clear. Any major political achievement that came without risktaking was a dream. While a government in exile would be an excellent way to harass
the Empire, getting the core members out of the country in secret and then taking
them home to a supposedly neutral country was so difficult that calling it "hairy" seemed dismissive.
Yes, the issue was how to transport them. How could they get them to Commonwealth
territory? Even if the Lytol was in disguise, it was still unquestionably conspicuous.
After all, it was registered not as a ferry but purely as a cargo-passenger ship. It
wouldn't be strange for them to call at any port, but anyone watching the mouth of the
bay would definitely notice.
It was too great a risk to carry someone so important in such a vessel.
"Four or five. But they're all regular liners. I'm sure the Empire is watching them."
The problem was that most ships of Commonwealth nationality had been avoiding
docking at Entente Alliance ports. More accurately, since the start of the war, anything
trying to call at Entente Alliance bay facilities was being blown out of the water. It
wasn't so much a matter of neutrality; the Commonwealth was simply worried about
getting mixed up in a fight.
So the only boats in the ports right now were the regular ferry lines scheduled
beforehand. But they were almost completely filled with ordinary citizens trying to
evacuate and get asylum. Apart from a slim minority of charter ships, there were no
other vessels anchored besides ferries. It would be weirder if the auxiliary ship didn't
stand out.
He couldn't imagine the Empire overlooking it. Even if they weren't deliberately
keeping watch, it was a ship from the Commonwealth—sailors at the port would find
it a rare sight, and hopeful civilians would be literally begging to board. The Empire
was bound to hear of it somehow.
The ship stood out so much, the Office of the Admiralty was considering sending a
diplomat to go retrieve the intelligence.
At least the Lytol wasn't armed in a conspicuous way. But it was moving at 29.5 knots,
which was faster than a cargo-passenger ship ever needed to go, and on top of that, it
was even secretly carrying a seaplane, nominally for sightseeing flights, and a measure
of firepower. They were disguised as hoses and recreational equipment, at least.
If it weren't for the confidential materials, even if the ship was boarded, there wouldn't
be any issues under international law. The crew might be made up of mages, but that was a decision a business could freely make. After all, the Commonwealth was a free
country.
But if they were caught assisting with asylum from a country at war, things would get
tricky. It would raise the issue of whether they should give the refugee up without
resistance… The Entente Alliance would probably want him to be guarded; it would
be furious if they just handed him over.
So what would happen if he had the crew fight the imperial boarding unit? The answer
was obvious. It would come around to bite them in the ass.
"Lytol can move at a fairly quick clip, but can it outrun the imperial patrol boats?"
Even if the Lytol was fast, it had its limits. And considering marine mages or aircraft
might be present, it was impossible to say whether it could make a clean getaway. To
go a step further, was a ship really even the best transportation method in this case?
"All right. We'll transfer them to a submarine on the water."
That must have been why the First Lord of the Admiralty made a daring decision. The
ship could certainly sink. Or the living quarters could be attacked.
But if they used a vessel that could operate underwater, they could stay hidden.
"A submarine? We have one we can use?"
"Admiral Meyer guarantees it. In any case, we need to consult with the submarine
squadron."