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Luckily, an army corps commander summoning a mere major is exceedingly rare. But
the army corps commander probably had a hard time being happy about the
infrequency. Exceptional though it was, it meant there was a chance he might have to
summon this monster again someday.
Telling him it was only a possibility wouldn't make him feel any better.
"Rejoice, Major von Degurechaff."
"Sir."
Doing his best not to look directly at the monster straightening her posture in front of
him, the army corps commander accepted that it was for work and met her. As far as
he could tell from a normal person's perspective, mages were more than a little
foreign.
They were humans who could fly by their own power and use magic to interfere with the world. Even if he understood them logically, when he met one face-to-face, his
emotions couldn't catch up.
But this he could state confidently: The principles behind the actions of this major in
front of him were impossible to understand using anyone's logic or emotions. Her
inorganic eyes compelled you to conclude that her thoughts, her frameworks, her way
of being were all warped. She may have had blue eyes and a pretty face, which
probably gave a gentle impression, but the emotions in those eyes said everything and
made her look different.
"You've got a special mission from the regional command."
She was commissioned before her age hit double digits.
When he had heard that, he had laughed and said, "A fabled child soldier, then?" But
when he met her, his first impression was combat machine. He immediately corrected
his perception of her, but he didn't begin to think he had understood her. The
reputation that had preceded her—for a recipient of the Silver Wings Assault Badge,
she looks like a fairy, albeit one who was born to fight—must have been true to the
letter. Maybe it was her symmetrical features, but she seemed like the type who might
get called a vampire behind her back.
"The orders will be issued at 1422."
When she had been ordered to do some simple field training, she had, unbelievably,
taken her recruits on a night raid against an enemy outpost trench. And yet the unit's
loss ratio was surprisingly low. Though they fought hard with dauntless bravery and
got results, their loss ratios were lower than that of all the other units. Honestly, if that
was all, she would be a great soldier.
She's too perfect. There's nothing about her to criticize; she's so logical and has achieved
so much. So no one can stop her. It makes sense that Lieutenant Colonel von Lergen failed
when he tried to eliminate her. Well, the legal specialists letting her go and the Foreign
Office giving up are probably bigger factors…
"Promptly eliminate the enemy mage unit that has penetrated the rear city of Arene.
After that, join up with reinforcements and suppress the city. That is all."
Republican mages had dropped into the city of Arene in the rear, in a sense, completely
outwitting the imperial lookouts. On top of that, the partisan riots were growing. If they couldn't suppress Arene, they couldn't use the railway. If they couldn't use the
railway, logistics would get cut off.
And then, the army corps commander concluded, somewhat self-mockingly, if the
logistics got cut off, they would starve. At that rate, even a child would be able to
understand where the war was headed.
For exactly that reason, the brass was not fooling around. No, they had probably
already braced themselves. Their determination could be felt in the orders.
Apparently, if there was no other way, they wouldn't stop at turning Arene to ashes.
Evacuation orders had already been issued at this point, as well as a curfew to prevent
people going out at night, accompanied by a stern warning. If things proceeded
according to the plan he'd been given, if the rebels didn't obediently surrender, the
entire city would be "dealt with appropriately."
And she was so trusted to get things done that she would be assisting. Well, she was
frightfully capable.
"Any questions?"
"If you could tell me what size of enemy force to expect…"
"At least a battalion."
The vanguard would be the 203rd Aerial Mage Battalion. They would be sent in to
eliminate the mages obstructing imperial suppression of the city.
Really, the top seemed reluctant to burn Arene. They must have been thinking that
resolving things without burning it would be best. The artillery and air units had only
just been ordered to prepare to attack, so they weren't ready to do it at a moment's
notice.
So is it as an alibi, then, that they're to issue a warning to surrender after the 203rd
Aerial Mage Battalion eliminates the mages? The problem was that if the people of
Arene didn't lose their will to fight with that, there would be no options left for the
Imperial Army.
"What kind of troops?"
Apart from a small number of Republican mages, they're militia. Many citizens of
Arene have already become casualties."
But there was another horrible truth right next to him. The magic major before his
eyes had presented striking views on international law at the war college. And these
were not your average "striking views."
To speak in extremes, she had a brain diabolical enough to foresee today's situation
and come up with a solution.
After all, I know she's the one who came up with the justification to sacrifice the people
of Arene in this operation.
General von Zettour in the Service Corps gave me all the details, but I never thought I
would regret taking her on this much.
That bastard, he should be more considerate of his superior's stomach.
"How sad. By the way, I overheard a little bird twittering about partisans…"
"It's a problem for me if you can hear too well. You must have mistaken some other
sound."
"So our enemy is the Republican Army, then?"
Just in case. Yes, she was only checking to make sure their enemy was the Republican
Army. Who does that? A normal officer wouldn't even wonder. On the Rhine lines, "the
enemy" meant "the Republican Army."
"Isn't that a given? They don't follow the Land War Convention. We need to get in there
and protect the noncombatants."
But he could see why she reconfirmed her definitions. This wasn't a mission you could
perform if you didn't know what enemy meant.
"So we'll get to flex our muscles. You mean that we should buy time cheerfully despite
being fatally outnumbered?"
"Ha, Major. You can choose victory or Valhalla, either one you like."
"Is that an order to annihilate them and win, sir?"
Well, I can see how it could be interpreted that way.
Cause widespread destruction, theoretically with no legal restrictions. Is there any
other way to win?
It's like we're ordering a bloodbath. There won't even be combat.
Even if you believed the war college's interpretation of the laws was correct, this plan
was clearly designed with a massacre in mind.
And I heard rumors she was involved in the plan. This expression, this calm… Maybe the
rumors are true. That was how inhuman she was.
"Yes, and yesterday at 1100 hours Arene was given an evacuation warning. So you can
assume the entire city has already been captured."
"Which means?"
"The higher-ups are saying to eliminate everything. Legally, only the Republican Army
units are there."
I'll just be frank. There's not really any reason to hide it. After all, the only thing this war
machine soldier needs is permission and orders.
She adheres to the rules. That is, she doesn't do anything beyond them. Apparently, she
limits herself in a strange way.
"How awful. It'll be hell no matter what we do," Major von Degurechaff said coolly.
But then why is she smiling so happily?
What is that delighted smile glowing on your cheeks?! What are those fangs peeking out
of your mouth?! Why are you happy enough to grin? …You vampire.
"…A battle to capture a city is a fight against time."
I hope no one noticed that I just flinched, thought the army corps commander, sensing
that he was distinctly afraid of her.
"The city is already under enemy control, right? So can't we lay waste to entire blocks?"
"Major?"
"If civilians were there, they would limit us, but if the city has been overrun, then no
worries."
No worries about what? He deeply wanted to ask what she was planning to do, but he
held back. He told himself it was surely better not to know.
"But this is really too bad."
With this, the die is cast.
For the one responsible, there was probably no die more nauseating.
"Yes, it's really, truly awful. But we're soldiers. If it's an order, we have to burn even the
beautiful city of Arene."
You devil. Zettour and Rudersdorf, you wicked men.
Apparently, they'll do anything to win the war. They would literally do any and
everything.
They mean to win this war by any means necessary, even if they go insane. Soldiers they
may be, but they're cracked.
"…No one should ever be a soldier."
"You're right about that. But not everyone gets to live the life they want."
That's right, Magic Major von Degurechaff.
But there is probably no one more suited to being a soldier than you. Perhaps you feel at
home in hell on the Rhine front.
I was wondering why I was summoned from my standby dugout on the forward-most
line to the safe command dugout farther back under the highest-priority orders, and
now I have a mission to eliminate enemy mages invading a key location in the rear.
Fighting enemy mages is a totally ordinary mission.
The difference this time is that the "field" will be a city. Not just any city, but Arene, a
critical node in the Empire's rail transport network. According to the orders, we have
to be prompt and speedy… Use any means necessary to eliminate the enemy is the
missive from my superior's superior's superior.
Having wrapped her head around the situation in her own way, it doesn't seem so
difficult. Her position, in a nutshell, is like being told to crush the Prague Spring.
The enemy mages are apparently joined by a battalion-sized militia, so it's a simple
order to take care of the uprising along with their tanks—the mages—with our
artillery.
If the order is to crush this mob, Tanya is almost bored, knowing history and how
common such orders were. Of course, considering the supply lines are in danger, it's
not a trivial mission. Tanya is well aware of that.
But that's all. If a riot starts, just give the order to put it down. She double-checked so
many times because she was startled that the local army corps commander had to call
her, a frontline officer, over to discuss it.
Once she realized the orders were simply to deal with a mob, she could barely keep
herself from grinning. This isn't going to be so hard. And it's a great chance to get away
from the front lines.
Having made that conclusion, she dashed over to her battalion's headquarters to start
getting ready just a little while ago.
…Then I finally realize that there's something bothering me about the written orders
I was given. We're legally in the white, but then why do they hint at the possibility of
indiscriminate strategic bombardment?
If the remaining troops don't surrender after we eliminate the enemy mages, the next
steps are terrifying. When Tanya realizes that, she kicks her brain into high gear. Yes,
the WTO,20 who crushed the Prague Spring, were the WTO. It's not as if they were
acting under a banner of democracy or anything. In other words, history can denounce
it.
After all, this plan calls for doing as much damage as possible to stone buildings using
high explosives and explosion formulas. Militarily, it's a great idea and will expose the
buildings' flammable innards.
After that, I guess we just drop mainly incendiary bombs? No, we can probably burn
things fine with artillery time bombs. If all the Imperial Army units assembled here
concentrate their fire, Arene will end up having something in common with Dresden.
…It'll be a massacre even if we don't screw up. Ehh, but we'll basically be substituting
artillery for carpet-bombing, so it's like in the Warsaw Uprising; it is within the realm
of the typical.
One regrettable thing is the gray zone where those bombings will be evil for the
country that loses, but the ones the winning country conducted don't even get
questioned, much less written off as a result of said nonexistent questioning. One
wrong move and I could end up nominated as a war criminal. I refuse to put myself in
such danger.
But wait, that'll only happen if the Empire loses. Which means that supposing we don't
lose, if I refuse to follow orders at this point, I'll be shot for insubordination, fleeing
before the enemy, et cetera.
After all, orders are orders. And at this point, there is nothing wrong with the ones I've
received. I have no grounds for refusing them and no reason to worry. I don't even
know if my superiors would listen to me if I tried to talk to them. Well, there may not
be time for that, anyhow.
On the other hand, I could devote myself to actions with no legal issues now, but given
that laws were retroactively enforced in the Military Tribunal for the Far East, I'll
definitely need to be humane. And on top of that, I have to act in such a way that a
bunch of people won't accuse me of things later? You mean I have to pretend to be
nice?
In that case, obeying the laws to the best of my ability won't cut it. What the heck? But
I guess my life is in danger unless I act humanely? I'd like to take it easy on the people,
but doing that for no reason and ending up low on achievements will be problematic…
No, wait. I have a reason. I have a bunch of burdensome new recruits with me, don't I?
With them slowing me down, the other units will probably arrive by the time we finish
eliminating the enemy mages. At that point, we can say we have casualties and
withdraw.
Then I don't have to get my hands dirty. At least, if the battle takes some time to unfold, maybe I can pull my punches without anyone thinking poorly of my abilities. Ah, if this
was going to happen, maybe I should have been more understanding of the recruits.
Hmm? Ugh, but the commander is the one held liable. What would happen if one of
the new recruits accidentally shot a civilian? It goes without saying that I, their leader,
would either face a tribunal or a kangaroo court. But I guess if the Empire wins, the
tribunal wouldn't be so bad.
If I'm lucky I can expect to be acquitted. Of course I can. It's a question of how much
responsibility I can really be expected to take for these newbies. But if we lose, I'll
probably end up the victim of revenge. That would suck. I thought this was a good
idea, but now it seems like it's not going to work.
For a moment, she considers a way to keep it a secret. Should I just eliminate all the
witnesses? But she immediately puts a lid on her indiscretion, as even massacres have
survivor testimonies.
Almost zero is not zero. And with a look at history, you can see that any number of
witnesses can be created. How many countries would hesitate to create a witness
where none existed?
"…I'm so not keen on this," murmurs Tanya, because that's all she can do in this
situation. There's not even much time left until the sortie. And her talented unit is such
a bunch of war nuts that when they heard there was a sortie they assembled right
away.
We can probably already transition into sortie readiness. If this was going to happen,
I shouldn't have had them get prepped ahead of time.
With eyes like a dead fish's, her pleasant features distorted, Tanya has mixed feelings
watching her subordinates as they ready themselves with an irritating briskness. She
wonders what she should do.
People might think I'm hard-line imperialist just because I received that superficial
decoration. No, they must. If that's the case, the life waiting for me will be pretty
unpleasant. Just take a look at Germany. No one who was a zealous Nazi during the
war met a good end. People still give the SS a rough time. About the only ones who got
decent treatment were the ace pilots. Even so, after the war, albeit for a brief time,
many of them were interned by the communists. Is there no loophole? I can't get interned like Hartmann.
…No, wait a minute. There was one guy. There was a soldier named Rudel21 or
something. He was hard-core—we're talking reinforced concrete—anticommunist
and pro-Nazi. But after the war, he even managed to enjoy his life pretty well. Him. I'll
emulate him!
To Second Lieutenant Grantz, it sounded the same as usual.
"Okay, battalion, we're going on a picnic!"
From readiness level two, they were assembled, and he'd run so as not to be late. When
he arrived, he was met with the commander, a displeased frown painted across her
entire face. She wasn't just irritated, she was furious, apparently, with nowhere to vent
her anger.
This can't be good.
The other day they'd been made to follow a unit of enemy mages fifty kilometers past
the enemy lines in what was called parallel pursuit.
He had to at least be ready to venture out to the enemy trenches by night.
"Those idiots in the air let enemy mages slip past, and they've invaded Arene."
But the words that came out of her mouth would have hit him hard even if he had been
expecting them. He'd heard whispered rumors, but having it confirmed by a superior
officer was demoralizing.
The disheartening truth was that a major supply relay point had fallen.
Anyone who learns the trains that bring them their food won't be functioning after the
next day can understand how huge an impact on logistics that will have. Even a private
can comprehend that war without supplies is a strategic nightmare.
The situation was so tense that even ever-indifferent Major von Degurechaff couldn't
conceal her bad mood. After all, Grantz himself had been shocked to hear the rumor
that enemy mages had invaded the rear by airdrop. How could we miss the transport
planes gliding into our airspace?
"And apparently they joined up with the militia. Arene has fallen into the Republican
Army's clutches."
That was bad news. But honestly, what did it actually mean? For a moment, Grantz and
some of the other mages couldn't quite grasp the gravity of the situation. The
battlefield paradigm required no thinking past Eliminate the enemy.
In other words, as far as Grantz and the others knew, the situation would be resolved
if they eliminated the militia and the mages. Defending an entire city probably wasn't
possible with just mages and militia. With no infantry arm, occupation was a dream
within a dream. The militia could compensate to some extent with numbers, but he
didn't think they could hold up in real organized combat.
In contrast, the 203rd Aerial Mage Battalion was, for better or worse, a child of war
that had learned to fight on the front lines and made achieving results their standard.
"Naturally, we're taking it back."
As she says it, Tanya herself is convinced that as a legitimate-enough conclusion,
recapture is the only option. It's a kill-or-be-killed battlefield. All they're going to do is
change positions on it. Compared to the horror of supplies being cut off, sortie orders
are somewhat familiar. Both Grantz and Tanya tended toward agitated thought
patterns, so they felt attacking was just what you did on the battlefield.
"Now here's the tricky part."
Even though she always conveyed their simple operation objectives without wasting
any time, she took a deliberate breath.
When he looked around, the other officers' faces were tense, too.
What the heck could it be? Grantz braced himself slightly.
"Arene…"
Grantz waited in uncertainty for her next words but then realized something with a
shock. She said "Arene" and isn't sure how to continue.
An officer who would indifferently order a charge on hell was hesitating.
She was shaking something off and doing something she found difficult to endure.
Whatever it was was grim and oppressive. The unit had fallen completely silent, and
nothing made a sound. Something was wrong. The soldiers who had been distracted
by the impending sortie began wondering what was going on.
Then, as if to interrupt their thoughts, she managed to continue.
"Arene is now occupied by the Republican Army. Troops, to take back the city, we need
to eliminate all the Republican soldiers."
Huh? That sounds totally straightforward. If Republican mages have joined up with the
militia to occupy the city, it'll be too dangerous if we don't eliminate all the mages.
Doesn't that go without saying?
Would it even be hard? Grantz didn't really understand.
No, actually most of the replacements didn't see anything different from normal
orders. They would be told to go as always, and then they would. That's what they
thought.
Hoping to see if anyone knew what was going on, Grantz glanced at Weiss. The first
lieutenant's face was just slightly stiff. That seemed strange. He looked clearly nervous
and shaken. Then he took a deep breath as if he was trying to steel himself.
Steel himself against what? What was so horrible that it could rattle a Rhine front old
stager so experienced he could be called a veteran?
"It goes without saying, but firing on noncombatantsis strictly prohibited; however, as
we've been given permission to cause property damage, that won't count."
She emphasized the rules of engagement. Their ROE was utterly ordinary. If there was
anything of note, it was the exemption from responsibility for property damage. But
even obtaining that exemption was part of normal procedures.
"Furthermore, before engaging the enemy mages and after eliminating them, we will
issue warnings to surrender."
Am I…am I missing something? A vague, confusing anxiety enveloped him.
"Be sure to temporarily cease combat while the warnings are being issued."
She was giving them the same instructions as any sortie. The only difference was that
it would be a city battle.
Of course, a few of the constraints would be different. But even with those alterations,
the primary objective of eliminating the enemy mages wouldn't change.
…At least, it shouldn't.
If he thought harder about it, maybe the warnings? But it's obvious that an urban
battle will have fewer casualties if you have the enemy surrender instead of finishing
them off. And if they refuse, then you just conduct the moderately obnoxious battle to
mop them up.
"If they accept the warning, that's great. If they don't, we transition to wiping them out.
That is all."
And actually, the tone of his superior's voice was utterly flat, concealing her emotions
as always. If they surrender, that's great.
If it didn't work out, they would transition to taking them out as usual—totally normal.
If pressed, he had to admit something felt strange. He sensed some kind of dissonance,
something that didn't sit right. That said, should I really be getting distracted right
before we sortie? Having made that conclusion, he began performing the final presortie checks on his computation orb and rifle. Rather than being unable to use his
weapons on the battlefield due to insufficient maintenance, it was better to forget his
other thoughts.
The recruits had had it beaten into them that learning was the first step toward
survival, and with each passing day, they were growing more familiar with war.
The next thing they knew, they were on the battlefield that Major von Degurechaff had
led them to as planned.
"Bravo Leader to Combat Control. It's a Named! Sending data now. Please confirm."
As expected, the Empire's response was prompt in the strictest sense of the word. They
sent over a battalion of mages in a matter of hours!
Apparently, they're taking this quite seriously. I guess the pain of air-dropping in was
worth it?
The commander of Mage Second Company of the Republic's special ops forces,
Lieutenant Colonel Vianto, was somewhat relieved to find some meaning in the
operation he hadn't been terribly keen on. Though he'd been nervous, he'd done it. He
finally had the wherewithal to glance at his annoyingly stiff hands.
The Republic was in a fairly tough spot. It had been looking forward to Dacia's
participation in the war, only to have that backfire. Republicans had to grit their teeth
and watch the Entente Alliance collapse after the fleet tried to prevent the landing
operation but didn't make it in time. This nightmare was slowly wearing them out.
The Republic's below-the-surface contact with the Commonwealth was an open
secret, but the Commonwealth was acting for its own national welfare. As a condition
for its assistance, the Republic was liable to lose all its overseas interests.
Considering the gravity of endangering its voice as a major power, the Republic felt a
need to resolve things on its own to the extent possible.
We need to push them back as far as we can before the Commonwealth joins the fight. It
was for that political reason that Vianto was carrying out this crazy (to him) rear
invasion.
I can't believe they pulled the so-called raison d'état card.
"Data confirmed… The Devil of the Rhine? They brought out the big guns."
But apparently when it came to raison d'e tat, counting your chickens before they hatch
worked. They had succeeded in drawing the unidentified Named known to every
soldier on the Rhine front off the main lines.
It was the Named who excelled in high-maneuver warfare and long-range firing, as did
the elite unit she commanded. They were an annoying bunch who, as a mobile unit in
the Imperial Army, defended a sizable territory; taking them out was high priority.
This unit was even capable of mobile defense. Drawing them away from the front lines
was more significant than drawing away any other mage battalion.
Diverting this unit with a veteran Named, who could strike at their weak points, had an important effect on the battlefield that couldn't be measured with numbers.
"That said…they won't be easy. I'm not looking forward to this fight."
Capturing a city the size of Arene would require several divisions of ground forces. It
was up to the Imperial General Staff whether to scrape them away from the front lines
or mobilize reserves, but apparently, they had gone all in. If only they would have
underestimated us and sent troops in piecemeal.
In any case, if they could hold this transport terminal, the Empire's supply lines would
dry up in less than a week, which meant they would definitely get results if they could
hinder enemy reinforcements for just a few days. They could only hope that the troops
on the front could pull off a major counterattack during that time.
"Charlie Leader to Combat Control. You're telling us to fight that battalion at range?"
Even for an elite special ops force, fighting the Devil of the Rhine at a distance would
be tough.
They had anticipated doing little more than chipping away at the enemy.
"No changes to the operation. The long-range fighting was only to distract them
anyhow. Work to delay them."
If it didn't work out, that was fine. There hadn't been terribly high expectations for the
ranged fighting, so it was no problem.
Maybe a line of distracting fire? The point is to force them to evade, tire them out, and
break up their formations. Anyhow, slowing them down is crucial. Time is on our side.
""Roger.""
They promptly began their maneuvers according to the plan.
Some mages lurking in buildings opened up with harassing fire.
Those shots weren't very likely to connect in a major way, but on the other hand, they
couldn't simply forgo it given that their enemy was Named.
And after all, disciplined fire was the Republican Army's specialty. If the enemy flew slowly, they could score direct hits.
"The enemy mages are breaking. They're evading our sniping."
But apparently, they were dodging the attacks. Well, that would be the natural thing
to do, but Vianto had hoped to deal at least a little damage. As it is…we'll only do a tiny
bit or barely any.
"But huh, they sent in a whole battalion right away. They're making snap decisions
that ignore the effect on the front sooner than I expected."
And they responded even quicker than we heard they did, which is a pain. With his plans
upset, Vianto wanted to pull his hair out—even if it was good that they had managed
to weaken the enemy's frontal attack. If the Empire was committing a battalion of elite
mages with no hesitation, he and his men had to be ready for the arrival of far more
ground troops than anticipated and much sooner than expected.
They must want to take Arene back as soon as possible. In the worst case, where they're
prepared to withdraw from the lines, things could get hairy.
"We're containing the Devil of the Rhine with two companies. What else can we do?"
These were mages trained for special missions. Two companies of them had been sent
in. Containing the Devil of the Rhine was really only one of their objectives, but his
adjutant wasn't talking nonsense.
"So urban warfare is the key? But we won't even last two weeks!"
If the enemy was really focusing on them more than they had anticipated, this would
be awful.
At first, they thought it would be a simple charge or that maybe there would be a
company of mages at most. If they were up against an augmented battalion all of a
sudden, their enemy was determined.
And Vianto's biggest headache was their readiness to send in a Named.
"Once the counterattack starts on the front, pressure from the enemy will decrease.
Most importantly, the troops should be able to break through their defensive positions
once the supplies are cut off, don't you think?"
"That's just wishful thinking. I hope we succeed, but it's going to be rough."
We have friendly backup and met up with the partisan militia, but what will happen
when real ground troops show up? They would have mage support, and the Empire had
more firepower than the Republic on a fundamental level. As far as ammunition, all
the Republicans had apart from a small amount of air-dropped supplies were local
stockpiles and what each mage had on them.
They wouldn't be able to last long, and they would probably take heavy casualties.
Even worse, we'll probably end up fighting with the civilians as our shields—something
we should be ashamed of as soldiers.
…Some of the believers in raison d'e tat even thought that in a worst-case scenario they
could run the partisans into the ground to buy time. It was logical, but it was an ugly
side of their nation.
"So in the worst case, we continue delaying and try to cause as much damage as
possible?"
"That's our only choice. Either way, a soldier is a rotten thing to be."
Humiliatingly, their duty was, basically, to faithfully carry out this operation to make
civilians their shields. When they were told it would make winning the war possible,
they had no choice.
But there was no operation that put his raison d'e tre as a soldier more into question
than this one. As Republican soldiers, for the Republic—to have Republican citizens
die was a rotten business.
"The enemy vanguard has entered the Air Defense Identification Zone! They're rapidly
approaching the city!"
But even he was a soldier. He knew that while thinking could be meaningful, there was
a time and a place for it. If he didn't, he would have been dead long ago.
"Commander, then we should—"
"I know. Here they come. Prepare to ambush!"
Once the enemy was closing in, his conflicted thoughts toward his mission had to be put off until later. He would do everything in his power to survive—because regret
was a privilege reserved for the living.
Have you ever been ordered to eliminate a fearless enemy assaulting an area in the rear?
I haven't until now, either. Thus, while I'm happy to have enjoyed such good fortune
previously, I want to lament my current situation.
But I want to do a proper job without letting anything stand in my way. I realized
recently that I'm the kind of person who lives to work. I want to be proud of myself for
being a levelheaded person who can think with common sense.
…is the sort of thing Tanya is thinking, pretending to be upset about what a sad era it
is when one gets intercepted just for flying through the sky as she deftly evades the
long-range disciplined fire the Republican Army is so proud of.
Even if the beams are no stronger than the lasers shot by some organic resource
recovery unit that's hostile to the human race, the hit rate is far lower simply by virtue
of the fact that humans are spotting.
Well, I do dodge them fairly seriously, since if one hit me it would be powerful enough
to potentially pierce my protective film and outer shell and cause me to fall. Maybe if
I poured mana into Type 95 with all my might I could withstand them, but that would
be psychological suicide, so I hesitate to do that. In which case, the best thing to do is
evade.
"Engage! They're fast! They know what they're doing!"
That said, just as it's difficult to win a hundred of a hundred battles, it seems like
breaking through unscathed will be impossible. The artillery fire is so dense Tanya is
amazed in spite of herself; their history of beating up on nothing but second-rate
forces in Dacia and Norden has come back to bite them.
It's good that everyone could evade a counterattack on a scale they didn't anticipate.
In the process, though, their strike formation has gotten pretty disorderly—even
though the formation was designed to counter the Republic's disciplined fire. She is
forced to acknowledge the painful realization that they won't be able to get past the
enemy firing positions with speed and spread-out maneuvering alone. The idea that
speed is armor definitely has a few flaws.
We're still fine for now, but up against big believers in firepower like the reds, we might be in trouble.
"Lieutenant Serebryakov, sorry, but I'm weirdly tired… Can I get a tonic?"
As she thinks, the fatigued voice of Lieutenant Weiss comes over the radio, and Tanya
frowns unconsciously. Tired? My vice commander who was put through the mill on
the Rhine and in Norden is tired after just this?
Tanya promptly throws her adjutant some alcohol—soldier fuel—as she has her go
take a look, and her question is cleared up when Serebryakov's panicked shriek comes
over the radio.
"Lieutenant Weiss, you've been shot! Hurry, stop the bleeding!"
"What?"
"You didn't notice?! Let's get this tourniquet on! Hurry!"
From the first aid discussion and Serebryakov urging Weiss on, Tanya realizes the
former was correct and sighs. Instead of subordinates who don't have enough fighting
spirit, I have berserkers that get hyped up on too much adrenaline to register that
they're injured; there's something vaguely depressing about that.
I didn't even give him meth and this is what he's like. It's hard to know whether I
should rejoice that I have the best soldiers or lament that I've gathered a bunch of war
addicts.
"…How's the numbskull who didn't even realize he got hit?"
"It's not life-threatening, but I think it will be difficult for him to continue fighting."
"What? Well, there's no helping it. Weiss, fall back."
Still, what suddenly filled my mind was apprehension about losing my capable
assistant. Despite being a war nut, he's one of the ones with common sense, and more
than anything, it's particularly painful to have the chain of command affected so
greatly in the heat of battle. But Tanya is already switching gears because she knows
she needs to consider not only current interests but solutions to future issues.
As the most sensible among her men, the good First Lieutenant Weiss seems to have a few thoughts about this operation. If he's dropping off the battlefield, that means
that one of her above-average mages nearly got shot down. Normally, Weiss would be
the kind of mage to attain Ace of Aces level.
…If it wasn't a fluke, the Republicans are awfully capable interceptors.
"But, Major—"
"It's fine; fall back. You're just one person; we'll be all right. Instead of slowing us
down, round up the others who've been hit and RTB."
It's great to be serious, but if those serious personnel leave, that's a problem. With no
other reliable people around, I'm the only one left. I'm the one sensible person among
all these war crazies. Talk about a nightmare.
It goes without saying that I'll be exhausted both physically and mentally. People who
can remain sensible during such an abnormality as war are exceedingly valuable. It's
hard to keep a unit who has lost someone like that under control.
Sensible people—they generally keep their heads in a crisis. These modern
individuals who can value reason and the market are the ones who will sustain the
capitalist society to come. To squander them on this waste called war is truly horrible.
What will the Empire's economy be like after the war if it throws away its best and
brightest like this? I don't even want to think about it.
Should I convert all my wages into gold and goods while I still can? I have a feeling that
win or lose, the Empire's future won't be terribly bright.
"Understood… I wish you luck."
"You think too much. You hesitated, right? You big idiot. When I get back, you're gonna
get it."
But first I have to survive this. It's annoying and I'm not motivated, but I have to crush
the pro-Republic fellows holed up in Arene.
As a person, it's not a very nice thing to do. Logically, it's easier to eliminate them, but
no one will compliment you for violating human rights. Yes, I'm philanthropic, and as
such, I don't want to get innocent people mixed up in this.
Even though legally there are no problems, something surely gave good, conscientious
Weiss pause. In other words, reluctance and hesitation hindered his maneuvers, and
as a result, he got hit. Well, it's not as if I don't understand.
But to say one thing, if I were in the same position as him, I would have wanted to
shirk responsibility in the same way. So about that part, I'm jealous. Geez, you're that
averse to taking part in a massacre?
Well, I don't like it, she mocked herself, but circumstances call for the death of the
partisans of Arene.
I'm only taking part in a broad sense. I'm just doing nothing, like those three wise
monkeys—see no evil, hear no evil, speak no evil.
In contemporary law, it's omission. But I'm not the direct subject of the act. In other
words, the issue is whether I have the duty to report it or not.
Even Rudel bombed tons of Soviet tanks, ships, fighter planes, and armored trains, and
he didn't have to go to prison. Basically, all he did was sortie, and that in itself wasn't
a problem.
Good. If I'm just doing my duty as a single soldier, there shouldn't be any real issues.
Ohh, laws are wonderful.
"Ma'am. My apologies."
That said, as long as there are issues at all, I won't be enthusiastic about it.
Of course, I'm pretty sure there aren't any military operations you can really shout
yee-haw and serve in with gusto. I end up wondering why we have wars.
Even today—why am I conducting this irrational operation?
Tanya is really at wits' end, but she doesn't long for death enough to lose herself in
thought in the middle of a battlefield. She switches gears to focus on dealing with the
task at hand.
"It's fine. You can't help being you. Okay, Lieutenant Ko nig, take over Lieutenant
Weiss's command."
"Roger."
I have no choice, so I reorganize command at my discretion. Either way, our mission is
counter-mage combat with, at most, some containment.
If there are healthy enemy mages out there, we have to beat on them to some extent.
"All hands, prepare to swoop in for a close-quarters fight. Watch out for ambushes.
These guys are capable. If you take them lightly, you're liable to get burned."
"Commander. The enemy mages are withdrawing! They're going to shut themselves
up in the city!"
But that plan was designed with the idea in mind that the enemies would sortie to
intercept us.
"Ngh. Never mind. Abort the charge. Just keep the pressure on."
Put another way, it's our job to take on the mage ambushes on the periphery of the
city, nothing beyond that.
In other words, if they remove any mages from the attackable areas around the edges
of the city, Tanya's mission will be mostly accomplished.
In short, if they drive the enemies to positions where they couldn't reach the bombers
or artillery, their part will be over.
"Commander?"
"All we have to do is drive them off. Once we've pushed them away, we'll issue the
warning to surrender."
"…Are you sure?"
It's precisely because they understand what that means that several members of the
company express hesitation. Of course, these aren't the types to hesitate to attack once
we've transitioned to mopping up, but it isn't as if they can't foresee what's about to
happen.
"It's not our job. At least, our job is to counter the mages. It doesn't include urban warfare."
But Tanya has already taken a practical attitude. Since she is focused on how to keep
the dirt on her hands to a minimum, nothing is higher priority than getting out of there
after issuing the call for surrender.
This is an easy job. Even if someone ends up dying as a result, it won't be by my hand.
In that case…
"…Understood."
Despite their hesitation, no one continues to object—for better or worse. In other
words, no matter what they might have wanted to say, they're all mature enough to
swallow it.
Business is basically stoicism. Entertaining, layoffs, or a boss you just can't stand—
there are so many things that must simply be endured. So if you can avoid them, there
aren't many reasons to waver. And if you're a soldier, orders are a great excuse.
"Contact the artillery and the bomber unit. Tell them we're issuing the surrender
warning."
All that's left is to get them to take over. If the enemy surrenders, that's great. If not,
the bombardment will put an end to it. That's all.
Well, I know this isn't the type of enemy to meekly surrender, so it's practically a
foregone conclusion, but still.
In other words, we'll have them become our justification.
"Do you want protection?"
"Second Company, you're on direct support."
Still, the best is to issue a warning. If they're logical, there's a nonzero chance that they
choose to surrender. If we issue a warning first, it's also much easier emotionally, and
most importantly, if there is a trial, it can be used as evidence in my defense.
"Okay, let's give them a call."
We don't lose anything by warning them. In which case, it'd practically be a betrayal
of capitalism not to do it.
We pretty much know they're going to reject our offer, but I might as well give it
sincerely for my own reasons. It's definitely worth it. Actually, I'd really appreciate it
if they would surrender at this point. Time and ammunition are precious.
Well, in reality, a ton of them surrendering would be the bigger burden on Logistics.
And the brass doesn't expect them to give themselves up, so they're already assuming
there will be a fight to wipe them out. I think we should hedge, but since cutting costs
is also important, I can't fault them for their conclusion.
Sheesh. Well, there's no reason for us in the thick of it to think that far.
Guess I should get things rolling.
"Release unaffiliated members of the general population immediately. We can't allow
your slaughter to continue. We demand the release of imperial citizens according to
article 26, paragraph 3 of the Rules of War on Land."
A nominal request to release civilians. That said, the only imperial citizens who would
be in Arene, what used to be a Republican city, are soldiers or civilian army personnel.
They were probably killed or lynched back when the revolt began. Even if there are
survivors, I don't imagine they'll obediently let them go. There's a greater chance
they'll off any survivors out of spite.
I can't believe they actually wanted this scenario. It's like the monumental difference
between talking about a nuclear apocalypse in a sci-fi novel and actually waging
nuclear war.
"You're watching, right? See anything?"
"…Yeah, they shot someone. Here's the video."
And as expected, the militia shoots someone dead and shouts something obscene.
Well, it's the type of thing an undisciplined militia is likely to do in any era. That's why
a proper army and a militia are two different things. Freedom fighters are all well and
good, but freedom without order ends up with major internal strife, a kind of
environmental hazard. These guys are hopeless. They could have done this themselves, but instead they had to involve citizens engaged in wholesome economic
activity.
Yeah, so in that context, they're probably shouting, "Go to hell, imperial bastards!"
Something like that.
Well, that's how people who aren't used to war tend to behave. They may believe in
some noble principle, but as long as they aren't trained, they're slaves to emotion. So
I suppose this is just what's bound to happen when an undisciplined organization of
civilians has guns.
Just like a functioning member of society, a soldier, even in uniform, is useless without
training, and you obviously can't expect that much of a militia. In other words, this
underscores the claim of economic theory that human capital is so important.
"HQ, I'm sending video. Requesting permission to begin immediate rescue."
At the same time, this is a big chance. Nominally, we've fulfilled our duty of issuing a
warning.
All that's left is to join the extermination, but if possible, I'd like to avoid that out of
consideration for my future political position. It's a simple reason, and anyone would
exempt me from responsibility.
This is the perfect chance. The marvelously just cause of protecting my fellow
countrymen is right here in front of me.
What army could reproach a soldier for saving its own civilians? At least, rescuing
captured imperial subjects is a politically clean act. Perhaps it doesn't have much
meaning from a military point of view, but all that's left now is the annihilation phase.
So this is the phase during which your political conduct matters. The fact that I didn't
participate directly during the battle but was engaged in rescuing fellow countrymen
should work as a get-out-of-jail-free card.
At least, it should be a justification.
"HQ, roger. Get it done."
"Pixie 01, roger. I'll proceed immediately."
Okay, saving people. Let's do a good deed. For myself. Whoever said, The good you do
to others will always come back to you, had a way with words.
To Grantz and Visha, it was a massacre painted as mopping up. No, Visha took it a little
better, since she knew the ropes. She at least understood the danger of hesitating on
the battlefield.
For Grantz, it was purgatory or perhaps simply hell.
"HQ to all participating units. Transition to cleanup. Get rid of the Republican Army."
Red flames added color to the black-and-gray world. Then a faint flashing was all he
could see. His distracted consciousness registered a noise coming from somewhere,
orders to the entire theater from HQ. The voice on the radio was so level he was
shocked by how unreal it sounded.
But the significance of it was orders. Yes, orders. The individual Grantz was in this
place on orders.
I came here, I pulled the trigger, I killed the enemy. No, what I killed was a person.
And he could recognize the strange tingle in his nose that had begun some time ago.
Even though he was used to the smell of the battlefield, a stench was irritating it. It
was the smell of burning human flesh. A freshly charred corpse whose odor wasn't
masked by the reek of decay. The air, sticky with protein, stunk horribly.
He was sure he was out of things to throw up, and yet he did everything in his power
to keep any acid from spewing out his mouth. He was getting used to actual combat,
perhaps. The fact that Second Lieutenant Grantz had the ability to try to understand
the situation meant he actually had some presence of mind.
The surrender warning and the attempt to separate the civilians from the militia had
been only a short while ago. Technically, it was probably a procedure to allow them to
consider the civilians militia. Anyhow, as soon as the civilians didn't have to be defined
as noncombatants, the Empire had begun a merciless attack on the city.
Luckily, he was engaged in the Imperial Army's prisoner rescue mission. It seemed
strange to him that Major von Degurechaff cared for allies over the enemy, but that
feeling was gone in an instant. She was probably just deciding according to priority.
That is, soldiers are the shields of the nation's people, so if the question is whether
eliminating the enemy or performing a rescue is higher priority, it has to be the rescue.
Apparently, it's a question of value standards. To put it another way, she honestly
doesn't mind trading the life of an enemy for the life of a fellow countryman. Thanks
to that, even if it was only during the short time before the bombardment started, they
were able to rescue some of the people held captive in the city.
"We've already crushed all hostile organized resistance. Now just take out the
remaining holdouts!"
The Republican civilians were full of fight, and in a conceptual sense, they certainly
meant to do battle with the Empire. They had consciously stood up to protect the
Republic, and the bodies and corpses of recovered army employees made their intent
to do harm very clear.
But that didn't mean Grantz could enjoy the scene playing out before his eyes.
Meanwhile, the unit's superior officer, Tanya, is content to look on as the cleanup
progresses fairly smoothly.
They used high explosives to smash the roofs of stone buildings. Once the flammable
items inside were visible, they dropped incendiary bombs inside. To prevent the fires
from going out, they used more high explosives to shatter the buildings, creating gusts
of wind to help the conflagration spread.
Then more incendiary bombs. That repetition set all of Arene ablaze in a few short
hours.
The barricade the civilians erected meant nothing.
Not only that, but the Republican mages probably even ended up getting roasted in
the flames. Surely the city already looks more like hell than those Buddhist paintings
that supposedly depict it.
On that point, Tanya's feelings are simple. God must be so upset about this—if he
exists.
Anyhow, Being X apparently isn't nice enough to lend a hand in this sort of disaster.
Well, what can you do? Humans are the only ones who can save humans. Forgetting that and clinging to religion must be our weakness.
That said, Tanya believes that such a weakness has produced massive changes in the
history of mankind. Which is why she's keeping her hands clean and going to save the
imprisoned military employees.
She takes the action that the collective consciousness of those weak people would
want her to and praises herself for being a realist who doesn't neglect to create
excuses for the future.
Meanwhile, for Grantz, who didn't have the wherewithal to guess at his superior's
inner thoughts, the only thing keeping him sane were his pristine, pure white hands.
He could defend himself by saying that he had made it through without shooting any
noncombatants. He was rescuing people, not massacring them.
On this battlefield, that was only a type of fiction…but as long as he could maintain it,
it provided consolation.
Unfortunately, Battalion Commander Major von Degurechaff's surrender warning and
the militia who rejected it sent his fiction crumbling to bits in no time.
Their battalion was the vanguard in this fight, and if it hadn't been for their good cause,
the rescue of imperial subjects, they would have been in there participating in the
killing. Now, he and his unit, the 203rd Aerial Mage Battalion, had to perform their
original mission.
"Pixie 01, roger. Requesting target."
Having swiftly and soundly recovered the imperial prisoners, the battalion had
regrouped and was waiting for its next orders. What everyone knew without hearing
it was that it would be the mission they were meant to do, an attack. Everyone
mentioned it in ambiguous terms, but unbelievably, Major von Degurechaff apparently
intended to participate in the horrible thing happening in Arene…firsthand.
Whether the people of Arene even had the means to stay alive, much less fight, was
doubtful. But neither the Imperial Army Command, Battalion Command, nor the
individual commanders could be satisfied yet. As long as those people existed in front
of them, they would devote their all to the task and accept no alternatives.
They knew no other way to resolve the situation. Everyone was reluctant to say it, but if asked officially, they had to acknowledge that there were orders for a pursuit battle.
And their commander was trading messages with HQ in her usual tone of voice, telling
them they had regrouped, and pressing them for the unit's next orders.
"HQ to Pixie Battalion, the remaining enemy mages are acting as a rear guard as they
retreat. Can you eliminate them?"
"I see them… No problem. We can do it."
As part of his training, he was assigned to the headquarters company. The notion that
the commander thought he had potential made him happy, but that naï vete had been
an awful mistake… It meant he had to hear the worst news. To think he was meant to
learn her style of command!
Following Major von Degurechaff's gaze, he could indeed see a somewhat orderly
group of people. They were at a visible distance—there was no mistaking them. And
it was true that bringing up the rear were a bunch of fellows who looked like the
Republican Army mages, albeit covered in wounds.
But the view, unique to mages with a boosted observation formula, told him the people
beyond the beat-up mages were only people. Yes, people whom he couldn't imagine
were capable of fighting. On their faces were anger and fear, plus despair and the
faintest hope that they might escape. By the time he realized it, Grantz himself was
unexpectedly awash in a feeling that was difficult to understand. Are we really going
to rip away those people's last protection?
"After you eliminate the rear guard, the plan is for the artillery to finish off the
remaining enemies. We request that you take no more than ten minutes."
…But Command didn't seem to want to let the group of "enemies" go. Of course, they
were an army. Grantz knew in his head that they were an army. But his emotions
screamed, Are you really—? Are you really going to let that happen?
But his superior didn't voice any objections whatsoever. The orders to mop up the
remaining adversaries who were trying to deploy protective formulas to defend the
people from Major von Degurechaff, from the artillery—they were orders to get rid of
the mages trying to help the people escape.
But Grantz had learned that his commander would give such orders matter-of-factly,
with no trace of emotion… That was the right way for a soldier to be. She isn't wrong.
She isn't…wrong…
"HQ to Pixie Battalion. That is all. Over."
The wishes of the superior who closed out the transmission were no more and no less
than that.
Kill them, they said.
Once they were gone, the protective formulas would disappear instantaneously. After
that, Grantz had no doubt the artillery would pulverize the people. The artillery
wouldn't know the true identity of the "enemies," so they would naturally do a great
job. At least we're only fighting the mages; we won't be shooting the people behind them.
But he could still guess what would happen next.
No, he knew quite well what would happen. We're destroying their last shield.
"Pixie Battalion, roger that. We'll do our best."
The moment the mages were eliminated, those people would also be blown away.
Concentrated artillery fire. On desolate flat country that hardly had any rubble, much
less trenches. It was stranger to think they would survive.
Above all…why would artillery open fire on civilians who had no idea how to live
through a bombardment? This is insane.
"…Commander, please reconsider this! If…if we eliminate them—"
Before he realized it—he could hardly believe it himself—he was giving his opinion to
a superior.
He could sense that his face was deathly pale.
He had practically committed insubordination. He had argued against an order that
came down from Command. That wasn't the type of thing a mere second lieutenant
could say to a battalion commander. Plus, he was essentially rebelling against the
orders.
"Enemies of the Empire will be laid to waste. That's great.
"But, that's—"
Maybe that was why he hesitated, but he had still objected.
Grantz was so confused he hardly understood what was happening himself, but he
spoke up to try to stop Major von Degurechaff.
But she remained unfazed. "Lieutenant Grantz. The enemy you let escape can take up
guns again—to shoot us."
Yeah, probably. Their expressions were filled with loathing. Undoubtedly—
undoubtedly—the Republic would gain zealous new soldiers from their ranks. Since
they hated the Empire, the army would have no issues with their will to fight.
So you tell us to kill them? You're telling us to kill someone who could be an enemy?
Perhaps she recognized his conflict, or perhaps she said it for no reason, but Major
von Degurechaff added an important point at the end.
"If you don't shoot the enemy, they'll shoot you. We have to at least open fire until
someone tells us not to. It's an order, after all."
Then before he knew it, he'd been knocked to the ground. He could feel dirt in his
mouth. Well, more like mud.
His face complained of the pain where he'd been struck, but he was hazily conscious.
Maybe her decision to sweep his feet out from under him instead of kick him down
was born of kindness?
"I'll pretend I didn't hear that. This is an order. Pick up your gun. It's time for work."
Yes, it's an order. I know I have to do anything I'm ordered to.
Because it's an order. Fuck. An order…
Hello. Long-distance trains aren't very comfortable, are they? First class is a lot better,
but sure enough, in wartime it's really only "better." On top of that, since the army's
railway guns and supply trains are prioritized, the schedules are seriously off.
About all I should be doing in this situation is reviewing documents or sipping coffee (although it's cold). For confidentiality purposes, not only are radios jammed, but I can't
even leave the first-class cars. What is that about?
Yeah, the food is relatively decent, since it's provided by the train. That said, you can't
really relax and enjoy a meal with this mood.
On top of that, the menu's tone-deaf main dish is beef stew.
Yes, normally I'm quite happy to eat stew, but at the moment, I'd rather not.
I mean, it's good and all. It's tasty, but I just saw an awful lot of things on the battlefield
I just came from, so it's a bit heavy. I acknowledge that it's delicious, though. Yeah, I don't
think a meat doria would have made it down my throat.
Tanya is grumbling facetiously.
A super-fun legal debate and actually implementing those ideas are two different
things! For instance, what's the point of ludicrous proposals that maybe there aren't
any civilians because all your nation's citizens are soldiers due to universal
conscription, or total war, or whatever?
Normally something like that would never be realized. The problem is that the plans
that logically would never be used and the pressures of necessity both exist in reality.
What an outrageous age we live in.
People use up their kin and throw them away as if they're not human. If they were at
least using them in a clever way, they'd have room to debate, but this is completely
random. Unforgivable waste, and on top of that, the idea of recycling to use resources
efficiently hasn't been developed. No, they're practically ignoring it.
Honestly, I want to ask them how much human capital they're planning to invest in
this. Considering the cost and the time it takes to cultivate a mage, they really can't be
dropping dead all over the battlefield.
Even worse, a college graduate who continued on to get his PhD—a scientist—was
stationed on the front lines until just the other day. But if we neglect science, we'll fall
behind the enemy's new weapons and technology. Agh, I have no interest in dealing
with what would happen if, say, the enemy had radar and VT fuses and we didn't.
If they're implementing the Manhattan Project and our scientists are dying on the front lines, isn't that playing for the wrong team? I mean, that mad scientist should
die, but apart from that…