Chapter 2: The Ashen Battlefield

Chapter 2: The Ashen Battlefield

CHAPTER 2

THE ASHEN BATTLEFIELD

Ash fell like snow.

Shin walked through the temporary hangar, putting on his gloves as the sound of the Noiryanarusean control officer’s announcement boomed through the structure. His accent was odd; it had an intonation that made everything he said sound like a prayer.

The hangar was full of Reginleifs standing side by side. These were all the 1st Armored Division’s units—or the advance battalion, as they were called in this operation. Their numbers had decreased in comparison to when the Strike Package had first been launched, and Stollenwurm and Alkonosts filled in for the missing manpower.

The Laughing Fox’s Personal Mark was nowhere to be seen.

…Theo.

The thought crossed Shin’s mind that he was probably being transferred to the Federacy’s hospital right around now. He then shook his head lightly. A new operation was about to begin. This was no time to be distracted.

One characteristic of the Holy Theocracy’s military facilities was that they were built to be completely isolated from the outside. A combination of outer walls and specially designed transparent shutters created an airtight seal around the temporary hangar Shin was in. Air was filtered in through vents.

Perhaps owing to that, this hangar lacked the usual scent of dust or the burning odor of metal, granting it the pure, clean atmosphere of a religious space. It didn’t feel the slightest bit like a military installation. The walls, floors, and ceiling were made of pearl-gray materials that had a certain sheen to them.

Standing in the midst of this scenery was a large, black shadow. It stood opposite the line of Reginleifs, its massive frame nearly brushing against the ceiling. Its gunmetal-colored plating was the shade of night, which beckoned all life into eternal slumber.

The Armée Furieuse. The Ghost Rider.

“Let us confirm the operation, then, Colonel Vladilena Milizé.”

Compared with the Federacy military’s unrefined design, the headquarters of the Holy Theocracy of Noiryanaruse’s 3rd Army Corps, Shiga Toura, looked like some kind of pagan sanctum sanctorum.

The length and width of the elliptical canopy was decorated by what looked to be silver leaf veins, with the ceiling itself being made of opaque glass. The floors and walls were polished like mirrors, painted a pearl-gray color that glinted like a splintered rainbow.

The interior of the glass hemisphere was composed of specially shaped holo-screens that displayed all sorts of footage. Glowing images were projected into thin air, producing touch-panel consoles. These were operated by hooded soldiers. This, coupled with their pearl-gray uniforms, gave the impression that they were monks.

The front half of the headquarters’ hemisphere had the operation map projected onto its holo-screen. As the commander of the 3rd Army Corps spoke, a spot on the map’s north quadrant, where the Legion’s territories were, began flickering.

“Our target lies within the blank sector. We are to destroy the new Legion unit that has advanced some seventy kilometers away from the front lines—the Offensive Factory type, designated Jiryal Cuckoo. The participating forces will be my 3rd Army Corps, Shiga Toura, and the 2nd Army Corps, I Thafaca. In addition, this time, we will be accompanied by the Federacy Expedition Brigade—the Strike Package’s 1st Armored Division and the two regiments that form the Myrmecoleo Free Regiment.”

The abstruse, gentle gravitas of this voice seemed to resound like the chiming of countless shards of glass clinking against one another. Its resonance echoed as if it were the soft patter of raindrops against clay. Lena couldn’t help but gaze back at the figure in confusion… In the two weeks since the 1st Armored Division had been dispatched to the Holy Theocracy, she couldn’t get used to this corps commander’s presence.

Feeling Lena’s gaze, the petite, delicate girl, with hair as golden as rays of sunlight, chuckled.

“It seems the commanders of the western nations have grown used to me by now, but when they first met me, they did gawk quite a bit. Seeing someone act so blatantly shocked is a pleasant surprise.”

She was the second holy general, Himmelnåde Rèze.

This girl was the corps commander of the Holy Theocracy’s 3rd Army Corps, which Lena and the Strike Package were to cooperate with during this expedition.

Yes, corps commander.

Depending on the country, the definition of corps might change, but typically, it was a large unit made up of several divisions and included about a hundred thousand soldiers. Grethe led a brigade and a regiment, which were smaller than a division, but the fact that she’d been given this authority while she was still in her twenties was an exception that was only enabled by the ongoing war. A girl in her teens serving as a corps commander went beyond being exceptional. It was bizarre.

True, her rank wasn’t as high as that of Vika, who commanded his motherland’s ground forces—which was made up of several corps. But the United Kingdom was a despotic monarchy where kings held supreme authority over the military, and Vika was a prince. It was only natural that the king’s child would be entrusted with some of his authorities.

“My apologies, Second General Rèze. I have heard that this isn’t considered unusual here in the Holy Theocracy, but…”

“Please call me Hilnå. You’re roughly the same age as my older sister, Colonel. I’d be happy if you could treat me as you might a younger sister.”

Lena was unable to hide her confusion, to which Hilnå reacted with a pleasant, high-pitched giggle. Her fine, flowing blond hair was as faint as the rays of the spring sun. Her eyes were the pale, sweet golden shade of early evening. Her shoulders, delicate as the wings of a swan, and her dainty arms were hidden behind a white garb. She held a command baton that was taller than she was; it was a glass tube with bells applied to it, which chimed each time it moved.

With her lovely smile unchanging, she spoke in a tone that was utterly devoid of malice.

“It is human nature to favor debauchery , and humanity is often taught to remain worldly and lowly. As such, I cannot fault foreigners for not abiding by the rigid precepts of our sacred faith of Noirya. I especially do not expect understanding from the profligates of the Republic, who refuse to devote themselves to the duties of the earth goddess. We’ve known as much for three centuries and do not mind.”

“…”

Before they departed, Grethe had warned her about this. She’d explained to her that the Holy Theocracy’s ways of thinking would likely confuse her, and so she’d told her about them ahead of time. Thinking back on it, Lena sighed internally. Each time she spoke to Hilnå or the Theocracy’s staff officers, it struck her just how different their core values were.

The far-west countries—with the Holy Theocracy as their center—practiced a religion called Noirya. They regarded the earth goddess and the fates she governed over as the absolute deity. The faith posited that the goddess bestowed onto people the roles they must fulfill and the fates they must abide by. All souls were born into their families for the sake of fulfilling these roles.

Noirya was the national religion of the Holy Theocracy, and its doctrine was strictly adhered to, regarded even more highly than the laws of the nation. In this country, one could not choose their own profession, and one’s household was seen as the most important factor in marriages. Individualism and freedom of choice simply did not exist.

A Theocracy military officer, who had been standing silently at attention by Hilnå’s side so far, cleared his throat loudly. Hilnå’s shoulders twitched, as if she’d just been chided.

“Ah… My apologies. Did I say something rude?”

Her golden eyes darted about nervously, like a scolded kitten. Yes, despite what she’d said, Hilnå didn’t mean anything by it. Her way of thinking was just slightly, if fundamentally, unlike Lena’s.

In addition, the Holy Theocracy’s language was different from the common tongue used by the Republic and the Federacy. Hilnå, however, had been speaking in the common tongue ever since Lena and the Strike Package had been dispatched to the Holy Theocracy, so as to accommodate them. She spoke so naturally that Lena sometimes forgot this wasn’t her first language.

“No, don’t let it bother you… Also, Hilnå, please feel free to call me Lena.”

Hilnå’s expression lit up. In that regard, she was very much a young girl who was three years Lena’s junior.

“Oh, thank you very much, sister Lena!”

The staff officer coughed dryly again. This time, Hilnå shrugged in an exaggerated fashion. The staff officer’s eyes remained fixed forward, but his gaze had the gentle affection one might direct at a younger sister and the deep reverence one showed toward their darling princess. It struck Lena as heartwarming. This petite corps commander must be quite beloved by her subordinates.

“In that case, Hilnå, there’s something I’d like to ask. How did you discover the Jiryal Cuckoo when it’s seventy kilometers away from the front lines?”

“The oracles in the forecast division detected it,” Hilnå replied.

Noticing the confusion in Lena’s eyes, the staff officer appended:

“Oracles are what we call those graced with the Heliodor’s psychic ability, Colonel. Perhaps, it could be best described as the ability to preemptively detect threats that approach oneself and one’s kin and comrades. Unlike the Pyropes’ clairvoyance and the Sapphira’s future sight, they cannot tangibly observe the threat, but in exchange, the effective radius of their detection is much wider. The oracle officers of our generation can detect the entire area around the far west’s friendly nations.

“The oracles are believed to be one major reason that our Holy Theocracy and the neighboring countries have managed to hold on to their land. It is said that in ancient times, long before the Holy Theocracy was established, there was an oracle whose range of detection spanned over a hundred thousand kilometers.”

It reminded Lena of Shin, whose ability was able to span the entirety of the Republic and the Federacy’s western front… Though a hundred thousand kilometers felt like an exaggerated figure.

Hilnå continued:

“As the staff officer here said, the oracles don’t have a tangible vision of the threats they perceive. We sent scouts deep into Legion territory, and that is how we discovered that behemoth, the Jiryal Cuckoo.”

“Based on the Holy Theocracy’s preliminary observations, the Halcyon is estimated to be an improved version of the Weisel. Fortunately, this also means it inherited the Weisel’s slow movement speed of a few kilometers per hour.”

Unlike the Federacy, the Republic, the Alliance, and the United Kingdom, which shared the same common language with different dialects, the Holy Theocracy and the far-western countries’ language gave its speakers a unique accent. As such, Shin and the Federacy officers struggled to pronounce their words.

To that end, when the Federacy military communicated among themselves, they used a different designation for the Offensive Factory type: Halcyon . Like the Holy Theocracy, it was based off the image of the bird of the underworld.

Halcyon. A legendary bird said to live in the northern seas.

Looking ahead, Frederica stepped forward and furrowed her brow.

“…Even so, this is quite bothersome. In short, this means that the Halcyon has combined with the Noctiluca. I believe we could very much continue referring to it as the Noctiluca all the same.”

“That’s just a theory, given the circumstances. We can’t verify that until we destroy and subsequently investigate it.”

Though in truth, Shin’s ability had pretty much confirmed that this was the case. Soon after arriving at the Holy Theocracy, he’d sensed the Noctiluca, and it didn’t take long for him to conclude that he’d heard its voice coming from what the Holy Theocracy’s military described as the Jiryal Cuckoo.

But on a surface level, they had to pretend it was nothing more than a hypothesis. They couldn’t disclose even the Para-RAID’s existence to the Holy Theocracy, and they’d been strictly ordered to only use the radio to communicate and to keep the existence of the RAID Device under wraps.

“Right you are… Then since this Legion could be the Noctiluca, why is it not shooting at us despite us being in its effective range?”

“It’s just barely outside the effective range, so it probably intends on bombarding the front lines and the back of the rear lines at once. We’ve predicted that much. With that size, it’s unlikely that it’d be able to fire and move at the same time.”

As wide as the enemy’s firing range was, its movement speed was exceptionally slow. It had to stop moving whenever it attacked, so its most optimal tactic would be to get as close as it could before it was fired at and sweep through the entirety of the enemy lines all at once.

With that said, Shin narrowed his eyes. It made perfect sense that the Theocracy would be in a panic.

“With the range of a Morpho or a Noctiluca, depending on where the enemy fires from, it could easily bombard the entirety of the Theocracy’s territory. At worst, this one Legion unit could end up decimating the entire nation.”

“So, um, our mission is to trash the Halcyon before it can get to its predicted firing position, right?”

Rito was leading the 2nd Battalion in Yuuto’s place, and Michihi had taken command over the 3rd Battalion. They were positioned fifteen kilometers ahead of the Armée Furieuse, close to the front lines.

They were in a camouflaged supply depot for ammunition and fuel. Even the prefab camouflaged storehouses were colored pearl-gray. A Theocracy interpreter had informed them that since these warehouses were only lightly airtight, they’d be better off sitting in their Feldreß. And so they’d boarded their units’ cockpits. Rito spoke as he called up the operation map onto his optical screen.

He sensed Michihi’s sarcastic smile through the Para-RAID and the radio, which were working in tandem.

“I’d say that’s skipping a whole lot of steps, Rito. You make it sound like we’re all just going to charge it.”

“I know, I know. First, the Theocracy’s military is going to launch an attack on the Legion directly in order to keep them pinned down. Meanwhile, Cap’n Nouzen’s advance battalion and those of us at the main force lie low, right? The Theocracy’s people are pretty strong. They’re totally fine with handling the diversion all on their own.”

Even from the perspective of a former child soldier like Rito, the Theocracy’s military came across as thorough, disciplined, and powerful. Their facilities and equipment were far more depleted in comparison to those of a large country like the Federacy, but their spirits were high, and both the units deployed on the front lines and the soldiers guarding the home front stood prepared.

It felt like they were worshipping the corps commander, though. They carried portraits of her, and they would pray to her image at every turn or chant her name. Flags depicting her were flapping around them, and the faceless soldiers’ chants could be heard everywhere. The religious fervor of the whole scene was off-putting, but above all else…

“… That’s easily the creepiest part.”

Rito quickly directed his gaze at the soldiers. The Theocracy soldiers walking outside the hangar were covered from head to toe in pearl-gray flight suits that completely covered their bodies, and they also wore masks and goggles that hid their faces from view. They piloted some oddly shaped Feldreß that were the same pearl-gray color as their uniforms.

The scene was like a row of resplendent horses, ridden by faceless cavaliers amid the ashen snow.

“I know what you mean, but they have no choice. The Theocracy’s battlefield… The blank sector is full of ash.”

The Severed Head peninsula, located at the end of the northwestern tip of the continent. Or as it was otherwise known—the blank sector. A wasteland shut off by volcanic ash that had rained upon it for several centuries. The volcano located at the center of the peninsula had become active, billowing large amounts of smoke and volcanic ash and rendering the land inhospitable to human life.

With entire countries of people and wildlife fleeing the area, the strip of land had been abandoned for hundreds of years. At present, the sun had been blocked off by the ash and smoke clouding the skies, and the surface had been covered by a thick layer of ash. The heavy metals scooped up with the magma had polluted the waters, creating a true no-man’s-land.

The bulk of the Legion offensive facing the Theocracy made the blank sector their primary sphere of influence. As such, the Theocracy’s battlefield was centered around this volcanic region.

This was the reason behind the Theocracy’s strange uniforms and unique Feldreß design.

The volcanic ash was the result of molten magma bursting from below the ground and up to the surface as solid particulates. They were essentially tiny shards of natural glass. Their edges were razor-sharp and easily capable of damaging the skin and eyeballs. Breathing them in for prolonged periods of time could cause serious damage to the lungs. Put simply, this was not a battlefield one could survive on with any part of their body needlessly exposed.

As such, the Theocracy’s soldiers all wore environmental suits, without exception, whenever they walked outside the hangars. That said, their military had no rank that corresponded to infantry soldiers. Rather than being attended by infantry, the Theocracy’s Feldreß instead used small, mobile extension units for covering fire on the battlefield.

Rito could hear Michihi giggle.

“But you got along with the pilots, didn’t you, Rito?”

“Well, yeah. I can’t understand what they’re saying, but playing with them was pretty fun.”

Said pilots were child soldiers, roughly the same age as the Processors. They were quite curious at the sight of the first foreigners they’d seen for as long as they could remember. Whenever they had the time, they came over to the Strike Package’s barracks to hang out. They would exchange sweets, play card games, or simply compete at the military’s favorite pastime, push-ups.

At the end of the day, they’d play chicken with cups of tea, hoping not to get the one with chili sauce and the Theocracy’s special spices mixed into it. At least they did until Shin and someone who looked like a senior Theocracy officer stepped in to scold them.

Incidentally, that was when they showed Rito the corps commander’s portrait. A Citrine girl with bright blond hair and golden eyes. They held these portraits up like precious treasures, as if presenting the image of some kind of fairy princess.

“ Rema refoa, Himmelnåde. Tsuriji yuuna, Rèze. ” It roughly means, “We honor you, Lady Himmelnåde. Rèze, our guiding star…”

The staff officer who had attended their briefing gave him the meaning behind those words. This officer understood the Federacy’s language, and when he recited the words, he placed a hand over his pearl-gray uniform’s breast pocket. There was probably a locket or something of the sort in it that contained her portrait, because he looked like a devout believer when he performed the gesture.

It was the very picture of worship; of zealotry; of…faith.

The Eighty-Six, who believed in neither God nor heaven, knew no one who had ever acted in such a way.

Outside the hangar, where the Reginleifs stood at the ready, Rito could hear the same chanting from all around the blank sector’s battlefield of ashen snow. This was what informed him that the operation had begun. The Theocracy’s faceless soldiers raised their voices in praise of their warrior princess.

Rema refoa, Himmelnåde!

Tsuriji yuuna, Rèze!

So began the operation’s first stage. The Theocracy military corps launched their attack, acting as a diversion.

As if to answer the jubilant chanting over the communications lines, Hilnå held up her command baton in one hand, shaking the top of its pearl-like head so as to jingle its bells. The glass bells chimed clearly and coldly.

“For the fate of the land and the pride of its people, Shiga Toura, march! The battle upon this land is our war. I pray you play your roles to perfection!”

Hilnå’s orders were crystal clear and traveled far, sweetly resounding across the ashen battlefield. But the next moment, the delicate echoes of her glittering, silica sand–like voice were replaced by the roars and battle cries of the soldiers.

The sight of it overwhelmed Lena. She’d never commanded an army this large.

“This is…amazing,” she said, marveling.

Hilnå was younger than Lena, but her leadership and command skills were overwhelming. Their reaction could only be described as fervent devotion—fanaticism, even. Hilnå’s gaze remained fixed on the front screen, and she didn’t spare a glance in Lena’s direction. Displayed on that screen was the unit emblem of her 3rd Army Corps, Shiga Toura: a swift, dapple-gray horse.

“All my corps’s children have had their parents and brethren slain by the Legion,” Hilnå said.

Lena widened her eyes in shock. Those born into the Theocracy had their professions decided by what family they were in. Soldiers were born into families of soldiers, which meant that all the soldiers who had perished in the last eleven years were the relatives of the soldiers standing upon it now.

The five divisions that made up this corps all looked up to the wavering symbol, pursing their crimson lips as if holding back tears.

“I am no different.”

This fifteen-year-old corps commander was part of a warrior family.

“I lost my own family to the Legion. House Rèze is a family of saints with a substantial amount of political influence. To honor that role, when the war broke out eleven years ago, those of House Rèze took to the battlefield as generals. And they all died. All of them…except for me.”

Saint was a title given to the highest clergy of the Noirya faith. Within the Theocracy, the clergy was seen as government officials, as well as military commanders.

But even if Hilnå was too young to stand on the battlefield during the outbreak of the war, the thought of her entire family dying… The fighting must have been fierce.

Hilnå’s eyes, gold as the setting sun, filled with a stern light for a moment. But when she turned back, her pale features had regained the gentle smile from before.

“It is because they know that everyone adores me so. We have lost our families, after all… All of us did.”

The Juggernauts stood near the Armée Furieuse in launch order. Piloting Wehrwolf, Raiden stood next to Shin in standby mode and activated the intercom with one hand. Shin turned to look in his direction.

“Shin, the Theocracy’s 2nd and 3rd Army Corps have moved in for the diversion. It’s underway right now. We should launch shortly, too, to remain on schedule.”

“Roger that. Frederica, get ready to move as well.”

As he looked to her with his bloodred eyes and spoke in a serene voice, Frederica nodded proudly. In this operation, Frederica wouldn’t remain in the command center with Lena but would join the battle as observation personnel , making use of her ability. She’d been deployed with the main force of the brigade in the back of the front lines, like Rito and Michihi, where she worked alongside the artillery battalion.

“While the Theocracy’s diversion unit draws the Legion away, your vanguard battalion will advance into the back of the front lines and hold the Halcyon’s operation range in check. As you do so, we at the main force will pass through the gap created by the diversion and advance sixty kilometers into Legion territory to destroy the Halcyon…correct? As you can see, I have a firm grasp of the situation. You can count on me.”

Shin nodded. But suddenly, Frederica looked up at him, the smile gone from her lips.

“Have you gathered the resolve to make use of me, Shinei?”

She wasn’t referring to her role as an observation aide in this operation. She meant using her authority as the Empire’s last empress to permanently shut down the Legion.

“…Honestly, I’d rather not,” Shin said with a sigh.

He was an Eighty-Six, and he took pride in fighting to his last breath. Placing the fate of humanity squarely on a young girl’s shoulders and sacrificing one child to end the war… Her kindness was something he could not accept…

But because of this insistence, one of his comrades could no longer fight on. As bitter as he was to admit that, he didn’t avert his gaze from the cruel reality that hung in the balance.

“But I want Theo’s sacrifice to be the last. I couldn’t do anything for him, but I can do something about this … I can’t afford not to.”

It wasn’t just for his fellow Eighty-Six or his comrades from the Strike Package. It was so the lives of countless soldiers across all the battlefields where the Legion were being fought wouldn’t have to be lost.

Frederica kept looking up at him and earnestly put her thoughts to words. So that he wouldn’t have to bear the burden of this decision on his own.

“I told you, didn’t I? Even I will not remain a child forever. Raiden and Vladilena have asked this of you, and so shall I. Relying on me, as you would rely on them, is the same as asking a comrade in battle for support… You need not feel reluctant to do so.”

“I won’t put it into action until preparations have been made. The fact that I’m not willing to sacrifice you isn’t going to change.”

“I am cursed to ever be in the company of an overprotective brother, it seems… But so be it. You would never allow yourself to act in the same manner as the Republic.”

She spoke with a hint of a wry smile, and then, as if having realized something, she appended:

“…However, with regard to that troublesome trump card they’ve drummed up this time. As overprotective as you may be, I must ask that you do not place me in that sort of thing ever again.”

“Yeah…”

The Halcyon’s design drew inspiration both from the Weisel and the Noctiluca—and it was appropriately humongous. A Reginleif’s 88 mm turret couldn’t hope to deal any significant damage to it. Even a Vánagandr’s 120 mm turret or a Barushka Matushka’s 125 mm one lacked the firepower to destroy it.

And that was why this new weapon was introduced. This was why they needed observation personnel. Because this new weapon was…

“…It’s just one life-threatening gamble after another with them, isn’t it?” Frederica asked coldly.

“The fact that they have some kind of countermeasure prepared this time is an improvement, though,” Shin replied.

Suddenly, a voice cut into their exchange.

“I’m sure that those who lack a weapon on the sheer scale and majesty of our black swan would speak out in jealousy. This is why I find lowly commoners to be so disagreeable. Much as the hackneyed anecdote of the fox crying sour grapes goes, the masses eye the aristocracy with petty envy.”

“…Excuse you?” Frederica raised her eyebrows.

Though the better question to ask was…

…Who is this?

Shin was taken aback by the condescending voice that had butted into their conversation. It was, far and away, not the kind of voice one might expect to hear in a military base.

“For starters, the fact that those brittle skeletons are the main force here instead of my older brother’s wonderful Vánagandr is upsurd ! You should gaze upon this unit and know the true majesty of a proud knight!”

It was the high-pitched voice…of a young girl. Frederica unconsciously shifted her gaze over to the speaker, whose tuft of hair had just reached her field of vision. Looking farther down, she was met with a pair of golden eyes staring back at her.

It was a child, roughly ten years of age. Her crimson, almost rose-colored hair was coiled into two pigtails that hung down from her head like a pair of dog ears. Despite being on the front lines, she wore a scarlet silk dress and had a tiara inlaid with red gemstones.

She was, in the simplest terms, a very red girl.

Shin wasn’t familiar with her, but he’d grown used to seeing such things on this expedition; she was a Mascot. In order to ensure the Halcyon’s destruction and to gather necessary intelligence, Shin’s 1st Armored Division was joined by another unit from the Federacy.

Shin himself had entered the battlefield at about the same age as this girl was now, and he’d grown used to seeing Frederica here, too. But between the Federacy military’s Mascots, the United Kingdom’s Sirins, and the Theocracy’s young corps commander, the sight of young girls on the battlefield was becoming an all too common one. Though it had taken him longer than most people to come to this realization, the situation was no less apparent.

“Don’t you mean absurd ?” Frederica asked with a cocked eyebrow.

“Ah…!” The Mascot girl raised her voice in a surprisingly frank gesture of surprise.

Frederica burst into laughter rather unreservedly (likely as a means of getting back at the girl for her comment), and the girl glared at her, the corners of her eyes rising up indignantly.