Kiki disappeared the morning of the previous day.
At this point, Yuuto was all alone with Citri. And Citri looked ill—her face was pale, her lips were pursed like she was enduring pain, and she constantly kept her distance from Yuuto. Her change was finally starting, it seemed.
“…Citri.”
He called out to her, but all she did was level a weary look at him. She was lying on a bed of conifer branches to maintain her body heat, with her head resting on a pillow of evergreen leaves.
“If we walk all day today, we should reach Neunarkis… Can you walk?”
“…Yes.” She nodded languidly and unsteadily got to her feet. “I’ll get there even if I have to crawl… I have to go back.”
✦ ✦ ✦
The city of Quitortan, along the evacuation route in the eastern end of the Neugardenia combat territory. Much like other old Imperial cities, it was made up of narrow streets. As Shin peered at the silver-haired group standing behind a barricade in one such street, he spoke.
“—All 1st Battalion units. We will now commence the retaking of the old Quitortan district.”
The Republic insurgents’ “declaration of independence” and occupation ended up adding more work for the Strike Package, meaning they had to divide their already-limited forces in half.
In other words, their original mission of securing the retreat route in the combat territory of Blanc Rose remained the same, but on top of that, they had to liberate the occupied cities of northern Neugardenia along the retreat route. In addition, they had to remove any obstacles in the way before the first unit to retreat, the 67th Armored Division, passed through.
“Our top-priority objective is removing all the barricades. As for the insurgents, they’re amateurs. They’ll probably fall apart the moment they’re threatened. But if they ignore our orders, or if it seems we won’t be able to remove them before it’s time for the 67th Armored Division to pass, you can assume that you have no choice but to shoot to kill.”
Cannon shells boasting an initial velocity of sixteen hundred meters per second naturally didn’t have any nonlethal options. The Vargus troops tasked with recovering any surrendering insurgents also carried assault rifles loaded with live ammo. Given time and supply-chain restraints, they couldn’t order any rubber bullets used for riot suppression.
Grethe, who was commanding the four armored divisions of the Strike Package from a command post set up in the rear, added:
“Just try to refrain from doing so unless strictly necessary. But if things come to that, I’ll give the order.”
Somewhere deep down, Shin and the others pondered that, with the possibility of the front lines’ complete collapse fast approaching, the situation had become so strained that there was no time to waste even talking about this, but Grethe remained earnest.
“You need to remember. You are firing on my orders. You are limbs, and I am the brain. The responsibility for pulling the trigger lies with me. This isn’t something minor officers like you should be concerned with. Remember that.”
✦ ✦ ✦
The maid got away, but they were able to take their primary target, Ernst, hostage. With this, the New Republic of San Magnolia and its citizens were untouchable to the Federacy, which would be forced to protect them.
Or that was their plan, but Primevére and her ten comrades watched the news with stunned eyes. The suppression efforts began in no time. They were in the president’s modest estate, in its small living room.
“Why?”
She uttered that question, only for Ernst, a gun still fixed on him, to answer with the sardonic smile of a teacher admonishing a student.
“I’m not sure what you were expecting, but I have a vice president to fill my place… With me being unable to act, all my authorities transferred over to him. They can just dismiss me at this point.”
Even as he lost his status and stared down a gun’s barrel, he looked completely undisturbed and spoke to Primevére with a tone that came across as chipper. It made the Bleachers’ remnants shudder.
Looking around his trembling captors with his ash-colored eyes glinting like a will-o’-the-wisp, Ernst cracked a thin smile.
“If anything, I’ve been wondering when they’d fire me now that I’m not needed anymore, but my popularity kept me in office. Getting dismissed like this suits me just fine. It took them way too long to do it, if you ask me.”
✦ ✦ ✦
Ernst Zimmerman had reached the position of president through the support of the people and the backing of the Onyx clans.
“—Apparently, he was a favored figure to support ten years ago.”
Seated in an armored infantry carrier, Joschka mused to himself as he listened to the news on the radio.
Ernst was the husband of the leader of the revolution, who’d been killed by the regime. Inheriting his wife’s will, he became the second leader of the revolution, a tragic hero who’d lost both his beloved wife and his child to the tyrannical royals in one fell swoop.
Exactly the kind of figure the masses would gravitate toward.
A man who, in his mad adherence to his wife’s ideals, voluntarily accepted the burden of becoming a statesman.
But Ernst was no longer needed.
Joschka got a glimpse at Ernst’s madness in the command center during the first large-scale offensive. His inconsistent, contradictory idealism took the importance of human life to its logical extreme of affirming their death. Showing this madness of his so openly would hurt his soldiers’ and subordinates’ morale.
So discarding him at this point was acceptable—this was likely what the Onyx clans decided.
Those lowly, unsightly, cunning magpies who had plagued the Empire since its foundation. Those black rats who swarmed over anyone who reeked of power and wealth, only to abandon their prey once they grew weak and died, before seeking the next prey to devour.
“That’s the one thing I’ll thank you for, Yatrai Nouzen. Thanks to you, Princess Yuuna’s child doesn’t have to inherit the headship of your clan of shitty bastards.”