Norden II 5

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NOVEMBER 29, UNIFIED YEAR 1924, HOME PORT OF THE NORTHERN SEA FLEET, FLAGSHIP COMMAND

Along the strait, it’s nearly time for the decisive battle. A high-strung excitement runs through the air at the Imperial Army base. Usually the atmosphere feels almost heavy, but for the moment, it’s so lively it keeps the cold at bay. The officers and men running here and there are visibly tense—no one is relaxed.

It’s the excitement that occurs immediately before a large-scale operation. Humans are a pain in the neck; though wise enough to fear fighting, they are also easily intoxicated by the romance of the military. This has to be the concentrated effect of everyone’s wish to taste sweet victory.

Those who can’t share in this festive atmosphere appear to be in the minority. Resigning herself to the fact, Tanya goes to the designated flagship command meeting room. As far as she can tell from a glance at the soldiers coming and going in the halls on her way, the entire Northern Sea Fleet crew seems full of fighting spirit. Even the vessels that would be left behind seem to be longing to sortie enough to rush out of there at any moment.

And the operational factors necessary for taking advantage of that spirit appear to have been given the necessary consideration. A large number of transport ships are anchored in the bay, and among them are some that could qualify as landing crafts after being outfitted for the amphibious assault. They probably have landing crafts requisitioned as high-speed transports ready to go as well. As far as she can see, traffic in the bay is orderly, and ships are in a position to begin operations at any time, thanks to the controlling performed with the Empire’s usual efficiency.

Tanya is conscious again of the weight of her responsibility; a lot is expected of her unit as the vanguard. It’s better for people to expect greatness of you than not, but it comes with a lot of annoyances.

That said, she conceals any determination to live up to those expectations and calmly takes her assigned seat in the meeting room. She ignores the attention she is getting by nonchalantly looking over the pre-meeting handouts once again. Of course, in part, she wants to reread them to circumvent any avoidable problems during the operation.

Just as she’s already read many times, it seems like her unit’s role is fairly large. Having their performance determine whether the operation would work or not is a big responsibility. Drop in, capture the coastal guns. It’ll be glorious but a challenge. If we fail, the whole army will be stuck in the fjords.

“It’s time, so I’d like to begin.”

Even while she is lost in thought, the hands on the clock keep ticking. Then, when they reach the appointed hour, an Imperial Navy staff member announces the beginning of the meeting in a solemn voice, and everyone turns toward the commander of the operation, the fleet commander, in unison.

“All right, I’ll explain the situation.”

Tanya listens to the commander as he briefs everyone, unaware of her feelings on the topic and with a sober expression, but the gripes in her head threaten to overflow. Internally, she complains up a storm, whining over and over that it sure would have been nice if the drop team had been given a few more men.

“We’ll be performing a mission in support of the Northern Army Group’s operation.”

…In support of the Northern Army Group? Tanya starts to think, but then it makes sense to her. Yes, the Central Army is nominally giving credit for the operation to the Northern Army Group. I guess it’s a show of the General Staff’s intentions or kindness, you could say. After the awkwardness between them over the Great Army mobilization issues, this’ll be a heartwarming reconciliation.

In other words, this is a lousy plan, a military operation loaded with the higher-ups’ motives. But you could also say that they’d managed it in a nominal way that wouldn’t come back to bite the troops on the ground; instead of a political compromise, they had pulled off a splendid handshake.

After all, the Northern Army Group is going on the offensive, and as a bonus they get the honor of leading the operation. Even if they fail, no one in the Northern Army Group will be harmed if the General Staff take responsibility for implementing the action plan. Then again, if it goes well, the war situation improves, so it’s worth it for the General Staff.

Major General von Rudersdorf came out to make an inspection—it’s probably his evil scheming. On the one hand, I’m impressed with the move, but on the other, I want to lament just a little bit that when you belong directly to Central, this is how you get used as a tool.

“As you all know, we currently have both the Northern Sea Fleet and the High Seas Fleet deployed on a northern support mission.”

Then there’s the situation being described. The main force of the Northern Sea Fleet is a support unit that acts as a sort of check on the Entente Alliance. Their mission is to prevent the Entente Alliance’s warships from escaping to Republic waters while simultaneously supporting the army maneuvers on land.

So ignoring those ships to perform the amphibious operation is almost a strategic sneak attack. It isn’t about sealed orders or intercepting the fleet—the plan from the first is to ignore the Entente Alliance fleet.

The Northern Sea Fleet is going beyond the parameters of its original mission and sortieing for the sole purpose of receiving a huge number of reinforcements in the High Seas Fleet and performing the landing operation. The Entente Alliance ships that will surely come to stop them will be kept at bay by the High Seas Fleet. If the Northern Sea Fleet can complete their operation during that time, the war situation will see a literal reversal.

The success of a strategic sneak attack is tantalizing. You could say a winnable battle is just dangling in front of us. It’s a comparably safe opportunity to achieve things and get promoted. I’m not the only one—there’s nothing strange about a soldier wanting to join a winning battle.

Actually, the ones left behind with no prospect of sortieing get depressed or look for an excuse to go. Anyone is happy to be told they’re going on the attack.

If there’s one problem, it’s the weather. History tells us units sent into harsh winter conditions always end up getting stuck in some lousy situation. And we’ll be performing an airborne operation. If we fall into the ocean, we’ll freeze to death like Titanic victims.

Even the bright red Soviet Army met with all kinds of disaster in winter wars. The Imperial Army isn’t used to such conditions, so if we fall into the winter ocean, we’ll be turned into frozen meat packs.

“This means almost all our main force is going, but that’s just how big the objective is…” The fleet commander leaves it as implied for just a moment, then solemnly states our target. “…the Osfjord. We’re going for a direct strike on their rear communication lines.”

The Osfjord… When everyone grasps the significance of what they’ve been told, a momentary silence descends.

Fjords are bad news for naval ships. The detestable narrow bodies of water with terrible cliffs on either side enable the enemy to shoot at them from any direction. Even without counting the threat of mines, if there are guns on both sides, any ship that makes a run for it can only lament its fate to be pummeled to death. The gunners will surely shower the marks with shells as they struggle to maneuver in the narrow waters.

And although their navy may only have a few destroyers left, if that, the cramped space forces us to worry about torpedoes.

What’s more, given the geographical importance of Os, the Osfjord will be more heavily guarded than the average fjord.

“Under these circumstances, we need to go in ahead of the fleet’s advance and capture the enemy guns.”

From the time General von Rudersdorf gave her secret orders to prepare for an airborne operation, Tanya has pretty much been expecting this. Neutralize coastal guns in an aerial mage sneak attack is practically the same thing as support the fleet as they make a run down the fjord. For what other reason would the army pit their elites against a rear echelon coastal stronghold?

She finds herself balling up her fists inside her sleeves. Capturing enemy guns ahead of the operation to take the mouth of the bay… In other words, our drop operation is a gamble that could decide everything. And we won’t be walking leisurely down a gangway in this cold weather but parachuting out of the sky with our computation orbs and rifles in hand. If we fail, it will be a huge disaster.

“Our aim is to disable enemy guns in a short amount of time to allow the fleet’s entry.”

It’s easy to order someone to get in there, but it sounds pretty outrageous to the one told to go.

The purpose of the airborne operation is fine. I can grasp the military need for it. At least, I understand that it has to be done. But what’s this about us securing the guns? The operation is in support of the navy, so it would make more sense to have the marine mages do it, since they train closely with the fleet. If instead we seize the guns and sweep the area, it’ll be basically like rolling out a carpet for the fleet to waltz down.

“Our troops are having difficulties, so in order to support them and deliver a decisive blow, I want us to do this right.”

…That’s easy to say, but can we? Can we really capture enemy guns on bad, snowy footing in the fjord? If we were told to suppress enemy forces in that region, well, that just would have to be done, but the responsibility of seizing all the enemy guns is enormous.

Talk about mission impossible.

That said, there’s a limit to how much mages can do as direct support for the fleet, and if guns remain, it’s entirely possible that the ships won’t be able to enter. So someone has to get saddled with this unlucky operation. Annoyingly enough, that someone is the 203rd Aerial Mage Battalion.

“And the vanguard will be… We’re expecting great things from you, Major von Degurechaff.”

“May I say something?”

“What is it, Major?”

“My unit is an augmented battalion. Setting aside the issue of firepower, I may not have enough men to take all the guns and cover the enemy reinforcements who are bound to attack.”

I hate resisting superior officers. There is nothing I want to do less. But that’s why I have to be bold at times like these.

Anyone can smash you if you oppose them with a subservient attitude. But if, on the contrary, you make your case so confidently that it must be logical, it sounds more persuasive. And if people think you’re giving a constructive suggestion with the aim of accomplishing your mission, then even an excuse transforms into the genuine truth. So I have to be the donkey borrowing the lion’s skin. I just want to probe slightly. Even if I fail, this isn’t rebellious enough to cause me trouble.

“Don’t worry. We were fearing that as well, so we’re arranging for two regiments of marines to reinforce you thirty minutes after your drop.”

“Understood. So in a worst-case scenario, do I have the right to suggest aborting the operation?”

Her attitude says she doesn’t feel at all bad as she masks her request. Any sign of hesitation can be interpreted as cowardice, but if a request is stated with conviction, it will most likely have a measure of persuasive power.

It’s not about who’s right or wrong; it’s about who makes their claims in a loud voice with confidence.

“…What do you mean?”

“Simply that if my unit fails, the fleet may be exposed to needless danger.”

What if, hypothetically, we fail?

That we would have to withdraw is self-evident. Put another way, we’d be able to avoid unfeasible orders to “just do something” so the fleet could get in. Once we decide to fall back, all the mages have to do is fly away.

Even if the right to call for withdrawal isn’t granted, the record of me asking for it would make it possible for me to argue that I made every effort to avoid risks.

“You mean, we should prioritize the safety of the fleet in the event you can’t neutralize the guns?”

That’s level one cleared. If I haven’t been flat-out refused, it shows he’s willing to listen.

A good officer would give serious consideration to the risks the fleet would face if we failed to take the guns and they were in working order. An officer concerned with self-preservation would be worried about being blamed for the results of a forced charge under such circumstances.

Either way, he has to carefully analyze what I’ve said, weigh the pros and cons, and see what he thinks.

“If we don’t take preserving the fleet seriously enough, we may let the Republican or Commonwealth fleet slip in. That would render the blockade meaningless and create a very dangerous situation.”

So I give him a little push. The concern of weakened patrol in our waters. I just prod his instincts as an officer of the navy by asking whether we should really conduct a landing mission at the risk of our command of the sea. It’s really too reasonable. Whether he’s out for self-preservation or not, he can’t ignore this. Of course, I can’t push too hard. Balance in this, too, is paramount. That said, if I don’t mess up the pressure level, I can persuade him without upsetting him too much.

“…That’s a reasonable concern, but we can’t leave our course of action up to a single advance unit. Major, if you fail, fall back to join your reinforcements and try again.”

“Understood, sir. But due to a quirk of the command structure, I can neither command nor be commanded by marine mages…” Having gotten this far, I just need to give him an excuse. He must know how things work. The navy’s original job is only providing escorts to the mouth of the bay and maybe firing their cannons. I’m sure he doesn’t want to exacerbate mage command structure issues. “In light of that, I’d like permission to advise aborting if the marine regiment commanders agree.”

It’s an adjusted step to save everyone’s faces and avoid any bothersome disputes.

It doesn’t take any time at all for him to agree.

“…All right. You have it.”

A few days later, the operation is to be carried out as scheduled, and Tanya and the brave members of the 203rd Aerial Mage Battalion are in a transport plane being taken to the drop zone as the vanguard.

The plan is to jump at the crack of dawn and capitalize on the enemy’s confusion in order to seize the guns. As the ones performing the operation, it seems risky, but coastal fortifications are extremely vulnerable to attacks from behind, so it has its logic.

“I guess we might be able to do this…?” Tanya murmurs, inwardly seeking comfort in reason.

Coastal fortifications are put in place to prepare for attacks by enemy ships and units. When she tells herself there is no reason for the backside to be protected because all that’s there are the communication lines to the rear echelon, it feels like they have a chance of succeeding. Even if the enemy is on guard against a sneak attack, their units are likely to be only lightly outfitted.

The coastal fortifications would say that the army should protect the rear and that their purpose was to prevent attacks by sea. And a century ago, they wouldn’t have been wrong.

“I’ve cut the engines! We’re gliding!”

The announcement from the cockpit alerts them that they have entered the final prep stage.

Loath to betray even the sound of the engine, we make our careful gliding approach. Naturally, our drop will be performed with airborne gear and not rely on magic. If we can’t descend undetected, Tanya’s fate is sealed.

“All right. All hands, prepare to jump.”

She can only hope the troops she has trained will put all their talents on display. Her only tasks now are to increase the probability of success and eliminate obstacles.

And a commander can’t wear an anxious expression moments before an operation. That’s why she orders them to prepare with the carefree tone of someone announcing picnic plans.

It’s a bit surreal to see mages in full gear jostling around in the cramped plane, but they’re getting ready, anyhow, so that’s good.

“You’ve heard this before, but our targets are the guns and mines guarding the fjord. Capturing them is optimal, but if that proves difficult, disabling or damaging them to inhibit effective functioning is fine.” She doesn’t insist that she believes in them but reconfirms their objectives matter-of-factly. “I think you know this, but if we fail, the landing unit will get stuck in the fjord.”

Guns are not fortresses, which means they aren’t impossible to capture. Most importantly, their muzzles are pointed at the sea. They aren’t set up to fight mages dropping in on them from behind, but they still have the power to trap the fleet. That’s why this operation hinges on us.

“There isn’t much wiggle room in the schedule. Thirty minutes after we drop, marine mages will arrive ahead of the fleet to back us up, but the plan is for them to deal with enemy reinforcements on the ground. Basically, we have to do this ourselves.”

If things get bad, I can make a joint suggestion with the commanders of the troops coming later to abort the operation, but the consequences would be the sacrifice of my career and worse. I’d be ruined. I have no interest in going to ruin by myself, but to avoid ruin entirely, if possible, is surely the modest wish at the root of all human emotions.

“Destroy all the positions as best you can in thirty minutes. I expect you to all be putting the true power of aerial mages on display out there.”

So Tanya is expecting a lot out of her subordinates. No, not even expecting—all she can do is hope. Don’t fuck this up. Please show me you have more than it takes.

“Lieutenant, head up the capture of the Albert battery. I’ll take the Narva battery as planned.”

“Understood. What time are we lifting radio silence?” Vice Commander Weiss confirms for the third time.

“If you fail to seize the position, contact me immediately. Otherwise, the plan is to maintain radio silence until our reinforcements arrive.”

“What about enemy reinforcements?”

“Come crying to me if you can’t handle them. Otherwise, crush them.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Reconfirming everything to make sure we don’t miss anything and keeping the troops informed of relevant information—we’re model communicators. Anyhow, we can’t say for sure that we’ll succeed, but there are blatant reasons we could fail, so there’s no better way to prepare than getting rid of them.

“Okay, Lieutenant Serebryakov, you’re our reserve commander. If Lieutenant Weiss and I go dark, order the retreat.”

“Retreat, ma’am?”

“The operation is a failure if you lose our signals. If well-outfitted enemies show up, you have no chance of winning. We’re just like canaries.”

A canary in a coal mine gives its warning by dying. The point of view that resulted in this method is exemplary in its practicality. Of course, we face the vexing reality that the army values us and canaries equally.

That said, though Tanya made this troubling simile, she has absolutely no intention of nobly sacrificing herself. If need be, she’ll make a scene screaming about the danger to everyone as she makes an airborne escape; that’s how far her loyalty to the Reich goes.

“Then I’ll try to sing my sweetest.”

I kind of have to hand it to Weiss for that joke.

“I’m not interested in hearing you sing, Lieutenant. Get ready to move out!”

“Yes, ma’am!”

As each soldier briskly checks over their gear, Tanya grabs her parachute, makes the last pre-jump checks, and nods in satisfaction.

If I have no choice but to go, I should at least do a good job.

“Okay! Go!”

When it came to zeal for one’s work, Colonel Anson Sue of the Entente Alliance Army was like Tanya—the kind of person who made rigorous preparations for battle.

“Enemy attack!”

“That’s insane! We can detect their mana signals from this far away? What’s the suppression squad doing…?”

Colonel Sue’s unit had just been stationed there out of a need to protect the sea, and although they weren’t in perfect fighting condition, they were already on guard—no doubt because he had learned the horror of completely losing the initiative in battle.

And especially considering their situation now… Ever since they had carelessly started the war, the pressure had been growing.

“They were attacked in their sleep? Is the army even training people properly anymore?”

Which was why Sue couldn’t hide his displeasure with the chaos descending over their coastal guns and clicked his tongue in annoyance. The discipline was probably so lousy because they were calling up reserves from the rear.

“…Enemy status?”

At that time, he was regarding the attack as a mere bit of harassment. But even a harassing attack on the guns was a nasty move that could lead to a dispersal of their forces in the name of stationing additional troops in a rear echelon city like Os. One might say that he still had the wherewithal to lament such things at that point.

No, more accurately, he was sighing while keeping a hopeful eye on the situation. Colonel Sue himself probably didn’t understand the core of his emotions.

But up until then, at least…he didn’t grasp how grave the situation was.

“Unclear. I have reports that the coastal units are engaged…and it seems the patrol boats haven’t made their regular check-ins.”

“What? Ask the patrol line what’s going on. Could be a sneak attack by mages flying out of a sub.”

Approach in secret and attack. In that sense, a commando unit and a submarine went together perfectly. That was why Sue persistently appealed to the military to adopt submarines, but sadly, the Entente Alliance Navy was really only a slightly thicker-skinned version of a coast guard. They didn’t have the resources to allot submarines for use in magic operations. The few they had, frustratingly enough, had gone on their periodic deep-sea exercise before the start of the war and then wound up getting disarmed as warships in a neutral country. That disgraceful situation meant they had zero operational submarines.

Reflecting jealously, Sue wondered if they could perhaps capture one as he had his men get ready to sortie. He had the radio operator connect him with the picket line.

“I’ve been calling them, but none of the ships are replying…”

“Do you think there’s some kind of confusion and they can’t connect?”

That was when he understood the situation.

The picket line ships had gone dark. If it were only one of them, it could have just happened to be near the submarine and gotten attacked, but if the entire surface warning line went quiet, that was not a minor problem. No, it meant the root of the trouble was on the surface!

“…Crap! They’re targeting the guns? We’re moving out! Scramble!”

Enemy mages were sneak attacking the batteries. And they had lost contact with the ships on the sea.

“Huh?”

“The guns are all facing forward!”

It was the enemy. An enemy attack. A major methodical attack! The fatherland, my country…the home I must protect…

“In the air now! Scramble! Engines on!”

Sue’s unit, taking off with determination in their breasts, was an unexpected newcomer for the Imperial Army. The Imperial Army General Staff thought it was a newly organized unit that had just been stationed there. They had also grasped that the enemy troops were not very content and tended to have insufficient logistical support, and the General Staff’s intelligence wasn’t wrong. So the staff officer who had analyzed the data came to the utterly commonsense conclusion that it was a static guard with a measure of defensive capabilities that was protecting the city of Os.

And that was why he thought the troops would be able to clean them up with the strength of their main force.

He had figured that by the time that unit had assembled to counterattack, the main imperial force would have already landed.

And he wasn’t entirely wrong. Only his conclusion was.

After all, at face value, Colonel Anson’s force was a puny mage battalion, a mix of wheat and chaff that was undertrained and lacking unity.

But the Empire didn’t know why these troops were fighting. Because it didn’t need to yet.

Still, from a totally objective standpoint, the unavoidable truth is… The Imperial Army commander, Tanya, muttering mainly curses at either God or the devil about the arrival of these unforeseen enemies, has to come up with a way to handle the situation.

“Major! New enemies!”

The rapidly approaching formation is a battalion-sized group of mages. Both their speed and altitude are quite impressive. No doubt about it, they’re a first-rate interception unit—and a horrible nightmare for the 203rd Aerial Mage Battalion suppressing enemies on the ground.

“I see that! Lieutenant Serebryakov, take command of First Company and stop them!”

“Major, it’s too dangerous with only one company! I’ll share some troops from my group.”

“Lieutenant Weiss, you just capture that battery! We’ll figure out some way to handle this.”

Tanya decides without a moment’s hesitation to go meet them herself.

I’m at wit’s end, but I can’t run away. If I send my subordinates up and they get the shit kicked out of them, there’ll be nowhere for me to run. If that’s how it’ll go, Tanya feels more at ease intercepting them herself from the start and preparing for trouble.

True, she isn’t terribly keen on facing an elite-seeming enemy battalion with a force the size of a company, but it’s better than the fear of having them on top of her. If she doesn’t want be made into a target, she has to get above them.

“R-roger!”

“First Company, follow me! We’re intercepting!”

The moment their short exchange is finished, Tanya accelerates to climb hard. As she swiftly ascends, aiming to occupy a combat altitude that is even with or superior to their opponent’s, she catches sight of the tiny dots drawing nearer every second.

And as one side got visual confirmation, so too did the other.

“We can’t get through to the surface!”

“I’ve got visuals! They’re on their way up to meet us!”

As Colonel Sue’s battalion raced across the sky in a messy formation and reached the Osfjord, the situation was as he had feared. The batteries had descended into chaos due to a sneak attack.

Not only that, but enemy mages were smoothly gaining altitude while maneuvering into combat formation, as if they had been skillfully lying in wait.

He could instantly gather from their impressive aptitude and clean formation that they were formidable opponents—in other words, the kind he hated.

“They’re fast!”

“A company? They must think we’re wimps!”

“These guys parachuted in. Don’t underestimate their training! Put our numerical advantage to good use! Let’s go!”

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 battalion-sized 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 matériel 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.