✦ ✦ ✦
From the corner of his optical screen, Yatrai could see soldiers scurrying into the trenches to reorganize their forces. They were decisive and quick-witted enough to not waste the chance the Crazy Bones Division’s arrival granted them. These weren’t Federacy civilians, however, but Vargus beastmen.
As he landed a blow into the unarmored turret joint of an approaching Löwe, instantly dispatching it, Yatrai switched on the external speaker.
“You’ve fought well. Reinforcements will come soon. Hang on until then.”
“…Understood.”
The reply in the radio came after a pause of awe, or shame and humiliation at those who’d died… He didn’t know what governor they fought under, but they did a bad job of disciplining these men.
“But we must make a request. The renegades who abandoned our brethren cannot be trusted. Please do not reuse them and send those of our own as reinforcements.”
Yatrai let out a breath as he smirked. “Very well. But in exchange, hold this position until your dying breath, you lot.”
“That goes without saying.”
The radio transmission cut off there. His lieutenant, who’d remained silent during the transmission, spoke up instead.
“Lord Yatrai, the division of forces across each front, and the recovery and reintroduction of the artillery and armored troops, are all going according to schedule, but there’s a delay in reintroducing the rescued soldiers back into the ranks.”
The artillery and armored divisions that had begun to retreat first were all recovered and brought to the Harutari defensive line; at the moment they were preparing to have their units reorganized and reintroduced back into the fold. Meanwhile, the infantry unit that had begun to flee before the order was officially issued had long since arrived at the defensive line and were also to be sent back to fight. However…
As Yatrai remained silent, awaiting an answer, his lieutenant continued:
“They’re deserters. Cowards. They weep and scream like children that they don’t want to fight anymore.”
“Fools.” Yatrai laughed them off coldly.
Indeed, they were shallow-minded fools. They honestly believed deserting under enemy fire meant they’d escaped the battlefield.
“Tell them to gun them down one by one until they start shouting, Yes, sir. And that they are not to send reports like that ever again. What did we give them those Vánagandrs for? If those soldier dogs can’t discipline the roosters, it reflects poorly on us as cattle keepers.”
His lieutenant laughed. Yatrai didn’t know it, but the reason he was picked to be the next heir of the Nouzen clan wasn’t because of his family’s influence or his blood relation to Marquis Seiei. It was because he had a quality that was crucial in these war-swept times—cruelty and brutality fueled by pride and callousness that had been unmatched since the family’s founder.
A grandchild of mixed blood, whose only merit was his direct descendance to the current head, could not match him.
“By your will, Lord Yatrai. My back is yours.”
✦ ✦ ✦
While he wasn’t on the battlefield, Theo was still a soldier, and the situation in the capital was dire. He needed to carry a pistol on his person. He cocked the slide, loading the first bullet. The Federacy’s standard-issue sidearm was a small model with limited capacity, and he didn’t have a spare cartridge with him, so he didn’t have many shots. But if Frederica’s words were true, there’d be no need to shoot anyway.
Still, to be on the safe side, he sneaked through the manor’s window, his gun loaded.
“Wait, who’s that?!”
“What are the guards doing?!”
He heard the Flame Leopard unit members raise their voices from afar. They had the area on lockdown to prevent the insurgents from escaping, but they didn’t expect someone to come in from the outside.
Stepping over the floor, which was littered with glass shards, he rolled through the carpeted floor of the hallway. A moment later, he heard bullets hit the window frame from outside. The blaring of gunshots came a split second later, the shots traveling fast—this was a unique phenomenon in rifles. This was sniper fire, aimed at the entirety of the northern perimeter of the manor, the window included.
“…Whoa. They actually fired at me,” he whispered, keeping his head down.
Theo’s infiltration had been spotted a long time ago, but the Flame Leopards took time to report in and receive orders before attacking. This was likely because these noble units weren’t so coldhearted as to shoot a Federacy soldier of their own accord. These were warning shots that weren’t met to hit their mark but simply intimidate him.
“Frederica, where’s Ernst?”
“In the living room. The Bleachers are…as far as I can tell, all there, too.”
Indeed, as Theo pressed his back against the wall, he couldn’t hear any talking or footsteps. And while the president’s private manor wasn’t built so shoddily that whispers could be heard from afar, the blaring of a rifle’s gunshot would still be audible. So if there were any guards on patrol, they’d have reacted to the gunfire by now.
…I should probably assume this place is empty except for the living room.
He still made his way there while wary of other noises. Indeed, the place was full of people. On top of hearing wet, sticky footsteps, he could practically feel the body heat of many people.
—Wet footsteps. Indoors.
He bitterly tried to imagine the situation inside. What’s more, there was an ominously familiar stench in the air. For a while now, Frederica had been wordless, like she was holding back tears. He drew closer to the door’s shadow and peered inside.
And then Theo gulped in shock. Frederica had told him the gist of what happened, and he’d guessed as much from the stench of blood. And yet.
✦ ✦ ✦
Standing in the midst of the Bleachers, who lay scattered on the carpet like objects, and brandishing an assault rifle with a bloodstained stock was an ash-colored firedrake, his head drenched in blood and his trademark suit covered in stains.
✦ ✦ ✦
The snow silently fell, only to melt into mud from the heat of shells flying through the air, gun barrels turning red-hot and the exhaust pipes of armored weapons and trucks belching smog. As Reginleifs flew about the battlefield, they splashed through the mud, their white armor becoming coated with muck.
With the Kampf Pfau keeping the Morpho in check, their bombardments turned more sporadic. As Shin and the 1st Armored Division intentionally advanced through steep mountains, which impeded the movement of polypedal units, the Legion ground forces pursuing them also had trouble navigating the area compared with open terrain.
As they traversed ravines between precipitous cliffs, along unpaved roads littered with coiling tree roots and branches, even the small Reginleifs had to move in small groups. They kept traveling while confirming the terrain, so they could avoid running into a dead end, which meant they couldn’t progress too quickly. Even if they wanted to descend to the foot of the mountains, the terrain there was too flat, and the place was covered with Legion remnants. They could only advance through the mountainous road, the sole silver lining being that the forested terrain kept them out of the Rabe’s watchful eye.
Down on the surface, the deserters were still scattered all over the battlefield like hungry locusts. They rushed and congested the road paved for the Harutari defensive line. Worse yet, they tried to push into the Harutari line’s trenches without contacting the garrison, and they ended up setting off mines, pushing away wire fences, and blocking lines of fire—effectively assisting the Legion’s offense.
Shin couldn’t restrain his anger at the sight. Why was everyone being so stupid? If they could see that the situation was going south, why were they so insistent on having their way? They let their own concerns, their fear guide their emotions.
Another unit began pursuing them. Finding a strategic spot, they set up a defensive line and intercepted the enemy’s advance guard as they struck at another unit from the flank. Reginleifs were not effective at stopping in the middle of combat. Units stopping to set up a defensive line meant risking losses, but they had no infantry to rely on except for the Vargus troops escorting them. If the infantry cooperated with them, their chances of survival would have been better, but they didn’t consider that.
Shin couldn’t restrain his anger at this foolishness.
…Why?
They put their weakness and foolishness on full display, as if they were confident they could get away with anything. Even the thought that others might get caught up in the trouble they caused or that they might be endangering themselves was of no concern. They were getting carried away with their self-destructive behavior.
Why do you do this?