Disclaimer: "Gate: Thus, the JSDF fought there!" and "Girls und Panzer" don't belong to me, but to their respective authors. This is a translation and possible improvement of my original fanfic "GATE: Thus, the tankery schools fought there!" and by no means I mean to have any monetary compensation by doing this.

The cover belongs to its author, whoever it may be.

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Chapter 1
Counterattack

Ooarai School Ship, Sea of Japan
30 days later...

A discussion was taking place in Oorai's school ship, one that involved, on one side, the Sensha-do school leaders and, on the other, the student councils. The debate theme was the "GATE," the name by which the strange door from where legionaries, dragons, and various other mythological creatures that should only have existed in fantasy had appeared. Inside one of the meeting rooms were the tank leaders from Oorai, Kuromorine, Saunders, Pravda and St. Gloriana. The current issue was, as the german officer Miho met during the battle in Flanders said, whether to send crews and tanks, and if the answer was a "yes," how many and when. Some like Kay were totally against going, and the general opinion of their school supported it. However, a large number of Saunders students, led by Alisa, demanded to go and get revenge for what happened to their students. This was due to the fact that Saunders lost ten students in the attack, more compared to Pravda, who lost nine students, and St. Gloriana, that lost 8. Kuromorimine and Oorai both lost thirteen students each, being the most hit among all the Japanese schools. And much like Saunders, they all had student movements that demanded to take revenge and bring the culprits to justice and, to a lesser extent, support their makeshift allies. The fact that the funeral services for the deceased students were marked by both sadness and anger, and a not small bit of hypocrisy, was also present in the heads of most of the ones present.

"I support not sending tanks, at least not until it is verified as safe by the europeans. Just because we want justice doesn't mean we should become cold-blooded killers like them, nor risk the lives of our students who don't know a thing about real warfare" said Darjeeling, calmly sipping on her tea with her eyes closed in thought.

"Nyet! We must show them that they messed with the wrong people! Soviet ardor and steel will show them that! We must raze their fields and cities with our endless tanks! Wave after wave, just like in Finland! Uraah!" Katyusha exclaimed from atop the shoulders of Nonna, who was quietly standing next to the others and serving as a height projection for the petite commander.

"I suggest to first see what our possibilities regarding the costs and risks are, versus the possible gains that we could obtain from cooperation with the westerners" Maho mused calmly, Erika quickly giving her the reason soon after.

"So are you suggesting we send our fellow students to a battle to the death against an unknown enemy in an also unknown place next to some, for the third time, unknown allies that may or may not try to discard us at the first chance they have?" Darjeeling's sharp response provoked a frown from the brown-haired german-styled commander, while her loyal second-in-command shouted (more like barked) a half-baked answer to the statement that also had the ability to draw Katyusha in, who didn't like being left in the sideways.

That quickly sparked a generalized debate. Those who were in favor of going were on it mostly for a mix between revenge for their fallen companions and impotence, something that did not happen with their opponents, who believed that they should only intervene when it was time to bring to justice those who have done so and only work minimally from the sidelines. Miho just watched silently as even her sister entered the heated debate, with Erika following immediately. She sighed, then turned her gaze to the TV placed in the room on a wall platform, where a news channel showed the European academies making their last preparations to send their first groups of soldiers formed into a task force to enter the controversial GATE.

As the german officer told her, the leaders of the military academies did not hesitate for a single moment before sending a request to get the monopoly of the GATE for the military academies involved in the attack, mostly with the excuses that they explained to her in Belgium but also adding others such as prestige and revenge. It took around three weeks for them to decide to award them the GATE, but preparations were started to being made since the day after the initial request was submitted, and with the official approval, is was just a matter of time for the academies to transport their gear and weapons to the GATE itself.

The first wave was made up of tanks, vehicles, and infantry from five of the eight academies that would send troops to the other side. The famous Panzer Akademie and the elite Eisernes Kreuz Akademie from the Germans, the glorious Royal Guards Academy by the United Kingdom, and the traditional Comrades Academy and strong Shock Troops Academy from Russia were present. The other three academies had apologized, arguing they would take a little longer to organize, in the case of the third German and Russian ones, and that they lacked the political support to send troops immediately, from the British remaining one. In order not to have problems with languages due to being three countries present, it was decided that the official language of the expedition force would be English, and the secondary language would be German.

After the vehicle checks, a group of five people stood on a podium in front of the concrete dome built around the GATE, all of them in high-ranking World War II uniforms. A few steps back and distributed in a square, another group of around thirty officers with their arms behind them. Among them, Miho was able to recognize the German officer who saved her life a month ago. Like all those in formation, he wore a stoic gaze. However, there was a sparkle of emotion in their eyes that she couldn't identify. Finally, one of the members of the high-ranking group in the front spoke to the mass of soldiers gathered to his face.

"Achtung!" He started. "I'm General der Akademie Meller from Eisernes Kreuz Akademie! Despite not having any signs of activity on the other side, it doesn't mean we know what's there. Reconnaissance groups travelled enough to discover a patch of land on the other side, but that's as far as we know about. From now on, this will be known as D-Day! Always remember to keep a cool head in every situation you face there. You are volunteers and represent the best of the best that we have! Now we are going to go there, kick up their asses, and show them they screwed up the wrong group of soldiers! Did I make myself clear?!

"Yes Sir! / Jawohl mein herr! / Da, Ser!" Students from the 5 academies roared in their native language, making the atmosphere vibrate with their voices.

"Then man your vehicles, ladies and gentlemen! We're out in 10 and remember to look flashy for the cameras!"

The almost twelve hundred men composing the baptized Task Force Flanders mounted the various vehicles brought in for the operation: from the Germans there were Opel Blitz trucks and their famous Sonderkraftfahrzeug 251 half-tracks; on the British side were Kangaroo and Universal Carriers; meanwhile, the Russians brought M3 Half-tracks, which although they were of American origin, was a highly exported vehicle during the war. When it came to armor, it was decided not to bring in heavy armor that could slow or hinder the march: the Germans brought StuG IVs, Panzer IVs, and Panthers and the Russians brought their T-34/85 tanks. The British didn't deploy armor because the academy present there was infantry focused. Troops would be supported by MG 42s, Bren, Vickers, Maxim and DShK machine guns; while indirect fire support would be covered by British 3-Inch, German 81mm and Russian 82mm mortars, this ones supported and protected by the defense guns of the various vehicles present and their crews.

"Open it!" Meller ordered the guards of the dome, members of the Belgian army. Slowly, the massive concrete door began to open, showing the dark passage to another world. The vehicles, lined up in two rows, began to plunge into the darkness of the dimensional door. The tanks first, then the half-tracks, soon followed the trucks and ending the double column were the transports with support weapons. The last thing Miho saw on the broadcast before averting her gaze back to the matter at hand was German and Russian tanks entering GATE.

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Flanders, Belgium.
A few minutes earlier...

Karl Schmidt was inside his tank, peeking out of the hatch. His crew, inside the vehicle and awaiting your orders. In front, on the sides and behind, tanks from two different nations awaited the order to enter the unknown.

"Neh, herr commandant" his gunner, Lieutenant Erika Fehring, caught Karls attention "Do you think we should teach these Romans to say Kurwa when we meet them, and so every time we see them they welcome us with a Kurwa?" The rest of the crew laughed at the bad joke, while he sighed for what seemed to him was the tenth time in the day.

"I will not deny that it would be fun, but we will have to see how we do it so that they know it before they see us. Because when we show up, I doubt they'll get out of there with both legs" another round of laughter came from the crew's mouths at the newly made bad joke, while the commander examined the place where the Panzer Akademie commander, General der Akademie Derek Hermann, searching for the start signal. When said signal was given, he addressed his tank crew again. "The operation begins. Start the engine."

The tanks they were using had been modified from their versions of the 1940s. In addition to slightly improving the suspension, tracks, and fuel capacity for greater autonomy and lesser breakdowns, the radio equipment was improved to be able to communicate at greater distances without needing to rely on stationary equipment and extra radio sets, also cutting in the germans case the need for a 5th crew member. With those small improvements, the vehicles' performance improved greatly while travelling cross-country, as did their road speed, ideal for inter-school matches seeking to assimilate certain conditions on today's modern battlefields. The most ironic thing was that these measures were used for exploration on the other side of the GATE, something that no one would have ever foreseen.

With a wide wave of his arm and a radio command, General Hermann signaled the beginning of the march of the armored column that spearheaded the task force. Almost simultaneously, the forty tanks started to accelerate, filling the fields of Flanders with heavy mechanical noises, the same place where thousands of soldiers fell in the Great War nearly a century ago. With ghostly silence, the armor began to be sucked into the darkness inside the GATE. Behind them, the half-tracks and trucks with soldiers were approaching to continue their way, always behind and ready to deploy at any given minute or instruction.

Inside the tunnel, where darkness surrounded everything, the soldiers kept their emotions in check and controlled their breathing by seconds. The silence, only broken by the noise of the engines, would drive them crazy if they were not instructed to be controlled. The tank crews kept their eyes straight ahead, expectant of nothing but the road and their commanders, while the drivers observed even the smallest detail of the direction of the vehicle in front of it. The drivers of the first two tanks in the column had extra pressure, and said pressure was that nothing could occur to them so they could keep leading the rest. Soldiers on half-tracks and trucks looked at each other, tightened their weapons, gulped down their spite or closed their eyes to let it all pass. The same thing happened in the entire column, where only a few officers maintained their characteristic tranquility, several just checking with their peers if the radios worked inside the strange tunnel. At the end of the column, a single Opel Blitz truck was leaving a cable trail, both to accurately measure the road and to send back messages in case wireless communications with the other side did not work.

They had been going on for almost a quarter of an hour when a spot of light appeared ahead. Anxiety gripped most of the convoy, desperate to get out of the eternal darkness that surrounded them. Commanders who were peeking out of their hatches, if there were any left, entered their tanks and sealed them shut, to prevent any arrows or foreign elements from entering their vehicles. The infantry began to ready their weapons, placing magazines and clips those that had not already done so, and preparing the ammunition boxes and belts for the support weapons. The soldiers at the half-tracks' gates clung to them, trying to contain their excitement. On trucks and carts where the support weapons were located, anything that was not needed to deploy the weapon was immediately stored or disposed of.

Reaching the spot of light, the tanks and half-tracks passed through the curtain of smoke and dust left by the first armored vehicles to find themselves at the top of a hill of medium altitude, although slightly higher than the surrounding ones. It was early in the morning there, the sun still not appearing in the sky as far as they knew. The armor was deployed in previously established settings: since the British had no tanks, the other academies were further opened to encompass their area within the iron perimeter.

The half-tracks and trucks leaving the portal were guided by those who had already arrived, going to their respective sectors according to the previously agreed plans. Half-tracks were positioned slightly behind the open tank formation, to have a shooting angle for their machine guns. The trucks with troops were placed behind the armored line, although still on the front line, while the trucks and half-tracks with the mortars were on the rear. Vehicles carrying machine guns were placed in the front-line sector, with their respective units. All the crews were continuously scanning their sectors, while the tank commanders, some of them peeking out of their hatches when they verified that the air was not toxic, searched with their binoculars for any enemy movement.

Suddenly, in the distance, as the morning fog set down thanks to the ever-approaching day, the dimming dawn was lit by hundreds of bonfires and torches. The vision of the entire contingent was directed towards the light source, discovering the last thing some wanted, and what others wanted the most.

"Enemy army detected!"

"Estimated ten to fifteen thousand troops!"

"Distance: 3 kilometers!"

"All units dismount and prepare to engage!"

The already prepared soldiers kicked open the doors of the half-tracks and trucks and quickly rushed outside, some leaping directly over the edge of their vehicles, and covered themselves with the first parapet they found in front of the tanks, some launching themselves straight to prone in the ground. The machine guns got out of their vehicles and their crews ran to the front line with the rest of their comrades, while the mortars dismounted and set in the rear line. Within ten minutes, a defense consisting of machine guns, tanks, mortars, rifles, submachine guns, assault rifles and pistols, all of them ready to target their enemies, was made in perfect order and synchronization.

The enemy front row, as far as they could thanks to the distance between them, was made up of dozens of beasts of various colors and humanoid shapes. Many of them carried swords and spears, though the majority just had their claws or small daggers, sharpening them in a defiant attitude. Behind them, an army dominated by human roman legionaries, with a diversity of creatures in reserve and a mix of medieval and ancient war heavy machinery at their disposal, formed ranks without haste.

Slowly, beyond the terrain and mountains behind the GATE, the sun began to rise, illuminating the hill and both contenders. The tension was palpable, and the soldiers began adjusting their helmets and setting off the safety of their weapons.

With the sun behind them, military students and legionaries gave one last breath before engaging in a vicious battle.

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XXXXXXXXXX

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GATE, Flanders, Belgium.
D-Day +3

"Miporin!" She heard Saori call her. Miho turned around, fully welcoming his teammate and crew member.

"What happened, Saori?"

"We were planning with the girls to eat some waffles before going to that GATE thing. Wanna come with us?" She asked animatedly. Saori, Miho deduced, was referring to leaving the camp, going to the nearest city, and buying at the first store they found that sold what they were looking for. In other words, run away for a few hours.

"Sorry, but I have something to do. See you later, ok?" Muttering a goodbye quietly, Miho quickly left the scene. Saori managed to mumble a discouraged "See you soon" before she lost sight of her.

In a swift and disguised way, Miho arrived at the area of the academic military base where the hospital was located, which was nothing more than a light prefabricated building with the characteristics and equipment sufficient to care for wounded people of varying severity, in addition to resisting local winter temperatures. As part of the commanders of the Japanese tank unit dispatched on the other side of the GATE, she was told that this hospital was a provisional one until a secure base on the other side of GATE could be established that could contain a hospital. For this reason, it was directly at the entrance to the portal, whose dome door was kept open 24 hours a day since the entrance of the initial task force three days ago.

Miho was about to enter said provisional hospital, when an M3 half-track left the GATE on the run and brake in front of the entrance. From it got off the driver and a field medic, who helped by two local nurses got down two students from the back. Miho froze when she saw them. One had an arrow stuck to the right side of his chest and was constantly moaning. The other had a deep cut to the stomach, probably from a sword, and was unconscious. Both were brought inside, leaving a trail of blood, and activating the alarmed voices of various people, presumably more doctors and nurses.

Miho stood there, paralyzed by what she had just seen. Like many of those who had not yet gone to the other side, she hoped that the power of their weapons was enough so that the enemy did not harm them or could even get close. But when she entered the hospital with trembling steps and saw first-hand the multiple wounded who came from the other side on their hospital beds, she knew that the fight would probably be much harder than she, or anyone there for that matter, had anticipated.

"Miho?" Asked a familiar voice, one she wasn't expecting to find there. "What are you doing here?"

"Onee-chan..." Miho muttered as she turned around. Behind her, and dressed in her combat uniform, was Maho Nishizumi, who wore the same expression as his sister: fear, uncertainty, and anxiety. With a gesture and taking her hand, Maho took Miho out of the hospital, and drove her outside the base so that she could let off steam without being seen by any unwanted person. And so she did. Miho cried, cried for long minutes, until he calmed down. When she finally stopped crying, Maho asked in a firm voice, from whom he does not accept "no" or "nothing" for an answer:

"What were you doing there?"

"I-I was looking for..."

"You were looking for?"

"T-those who saved my life before, in the 'Incident'..."

Maho searched in her memory. Those were two tank officers: one German and one Russian.

"Don't worry. The russian didn't go to the other side, and the german officer has not returned. Ask the hospital doctors, and they told me that so far there have been wounded on our side but no deaths. That means he must be fine, or at the very least alive and breathing.

Miho relaxed significantly upon hearing that. She was about to say something to Maho when the latter's phone rang. Excusing herself, she answered the call, changing her countenance as whoever was at the other side spoke to her. When she finished, her face was dead serious, and with a "thank you" she hung up the call.

"Miho, let's go."

"Where?"

"A message from Task Force Flanders just came through the GATE. The battle on the other side is over, so it's safe to go. That means that is our turn to enter."

Miho nodded before standing up with his sister's help and heading to where her school's tanks were located. Just over a month ago, Oorai had eight tanks with their respective crews, though lacking a bit on the manpower side. After the attack, three crews were lost, and their tanks were cleaned and vacated in memory of their fallen comrades. While the crews of the other five tanks wanted revenge, the student council had to stay at the school and could not be absent for an indefinite period, so in the end only four tanks left for Belgium. After all, Anzu reasoned, a tank destroyer was not the most effective against infantry.

Oorai, together with Kuromorimine and Pravda, formed the 1st Japanese Auxiliary Brigade, consisting of the 4 tanks of Oorai, 6 tanks from Kuromorimine and 10 from Pravda, giving a total of 20 tanks. Next to them was the second wave of European troops. They added a total of more than a thousand new military students to the battlefield, which was in unknown condition for all of them. Between comments of various kinds and emotions of anxiety, encouragement and expectation, the group moved up. This time, to save fuel, only the support and heavy weapons would be transported by vehicles, in addition to the additional ammunition and medical equipment, while the infantry would march on foot the distance inside the darkness of the tunnel.

"SITREP on the Task Force?" Miho heard one of the liaison officers ask another one before the japanese group entered the GATE.

"Operative and working, but fucked up. Most haven't slept more than eight hours in the already three days they have there." Was the answer before it was her turn to get inside her hatch and into the impenetrable darkness inside the portal. Any other news was a mystery to her, and it remained like that for the rest of her trip.

The emotions while crossing the GATE were similar to those of the first group, except for the fact that, because most personnel walked, they could relax somewhat due to energy expenditure in the already declared safe passage (even though many didn't buy it and kept scanning their surroundings until they crossed). After a long while, that most calculated was nearly an hour of grueling march, the tanks reached the other side, followed by the infantry. The devastated picture they found arriving there was described several years later by a British student in an interview for a book about the adventures at the other side of the GATE:

"'When we first arrived the image of the place was, for lack of a better word, bleak. Although there were glimpses of having built an advanced base headquarters, the truth was that the most notable features were the bunkers and trenches on the make-shift perimeter of it. Most tanks and, I would say, about half the infantry were on said perimeter, constantly guarding, scanning the horizon for threats. A few were making short patrols down the hill. The rest of the troops were scattered around the area: one part ran what appeared to be a rudimentary field hospital, while several officers and what appeared to be the field commander of Task Force Flanders were gathered inside a command bunker. The ground was mostly dirt and grass, but the outside of the iron circle that guarded the GATE was nothing more than an uneven terrain that surely saw better days, filled with blackish human and humanoid mortal remains whose meager remaining blood formed rivulets running down the hill. Finally, the men and women who were not on duty spent their time resting or walking from here to there, with no apparent specific objective. Most of them dirty, sweaty, and some even with bandages. It was a rather depressing sight, but remembering that the enemy had lost the battle, I couldn't help but wonder what their status was at the time. Surely chaos and a destroyed army were the answer to the question of sorts, if it was anything to go by.'

'What were your thoughts at the time?'

'Well, first I wanted to know what happened. When I asked a fellow NCO how the battle went, he told me that the fight started right after the crossing of the GATE. Combat halted at nightfall, with the enemy repelled, but that same night they carried out a surprise all-out assault that lasted until noon, breaching the security perimeter several times. Next night there were some rear actions, but the main body retired with the cover of darkness. The fight was mostly decided thanks to the flamethrowers and tanks, whose moral effect seemed to be devastating to their ranks. I remember to freeze after listening to the story, remembering the two hundred wounded in Belgium and seeing the field hospital with easily another hundred. It was a quarter of the original strength, though positively with no deaths. I could only wonder what awaited us since then: if our weapons couldn't give us safety, what could?'"

Despite the deplorable state of the place, the command and organization were still efficient. In less than an hour the 2nd Wave found their place in the perimeter, and the engineers, sappers, and pioneers began to build the soon-to-be fort with the help of heavy machinery brought in tow with them. Also taking advantage of the newly arrived vehicles, the wounded and people with post-traumatic stress were sent to the other side to be treated, leaving the first wave with roughly eight hundred members. The day after arriving to the base (and various vomiting and crying around the scene, in addition to prayers and mass graves), the members of the 2nd Wave had begun to adapt to their new environment and began to settle defensive combat units with tanks and motorized and foot infantry, relieving the members of the first wave for some much needed rest. The arrival of the 3rd Wave the next day, accounting for a couple thousand soldiers and officers, was used to start short-range reconnaissance patrols and help the engineers to build the defenses and living quarters, as well as a command building for the headquarters staff group. With D-Day +5 came the 4th Wave, made up mostly by a few light tanks, infantry and towed artillery. Within all these reinforcements were troops from the eight European academies, who, when the base started to take form, started to mark their respective areas of both quarters, barracks and the defensive perimeter.

Due to all the manpower crossing the GATE, and the fact that most of them had nothing better to do once settled since there was no enemy activity and no supply base established, it allowed the engineers to have a lot of help to build up the base in record time, in addition to providing a source of physical exercise and a distraction from boredom. Because of that, for D-Day +6 the academic military fort was already taking shape: in the center there was a square space with the GATE in the center, surrounded by the offices of the eight academic HQs and other things of importance (supplies, quartermasters, hospitals, ammunition depots, among others). Surrounding them was a fence that separated them from the barracks for the soldiers, dining rooms, the hangars for the vehicles (separated by academies) and the future prison camps, shooting ranges and armories. Around all that, the basis of a six-pointed concrete structure started to stand up, growing day by day. Artillery and point-blank-useful gun units, such as 105mm howitzers and Bofors 40mm automatic cannons were situated outside it, being the last defense barrier if the ever-growing security perimeter somehow failed again. The garrison at the base numbered around 5,000 men and women, fully established within their secure borders while waiting for orders from the high command. On that same day, the eight academic generals and field commanders crossed the GATE, completing the official establishment of the academies in the new world.

Little did they know, soon their tranquility would be interrupted.

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Outskirts of Alnus Hill
D-Day +6

"Your highness, we have spotted some enemy patrols in the distance. Few and young men, no more than six of them. They are on the heights surrounding the Allied Army camp. ¿Your orders, Sir?"

"Let them be. It was obvious they were going to detect such a mass of troops forming up near their position. The fact that they haven't come out to engage us in battle when our own armies are tired tells us more about them than about us to them." He declared, focusing his trained eyes where the young page told him were the enemy scouts. It wasn't difficult to find them: they were on top of a small hill a fair distance away, more than enough to be out of range from archers and have enough notice in case a cavalry party pursued them. "Instead, prepare the troop to install and rest on our arrival. We will probably battle tomorrow against this unknown force."

"As you say, my Lord." The page excused itself and rode away, further up the column of Elbian troops. He remained where he was, on top on another hill, continuously watching over.

Duran, as he was named, King and "Lion" of Elbe, watched over his army as it marched on its way to Alnus Hill. When the request to fight alongside the Imperial Army and other vassal kingdoms "against the pirates of another world that had tainted the sacred ground of Alnus with their uncivilized presence" was officially sent by Emperor Molt Sol Augustus of the Saderan Empire, almost one month ago, he started to mobilize his troops for it, leaving his capital nearly two weeks ago. But despite his determination, his instincts, honed by countless battles thanks to his many years of life and war, were telling him to be careful of the imperial intentions, backed by his personal interactions with the Emperor and his diplomats. Those feelings of uneasiness only grew when, as he was moving his army to the allied gathering field, a small distance away from Alnus Hill, he was able to observe the enemy stronghold around the Alnus' GATE from a distance.

To say he was surprised would be an understatement.

Not only because a force of apparently no more than 10,000 enemies was occupying the hill, that being generous (compared to the surely more than 200,000 soldiers the allied army could muster), but also because of the fact that those enemies were... teenagers? Children from the perspective of the old king, being that the oldest spotted by the patrols until now appeared to be no older than 20. He couldn't understand it. Why was the Empire requesting help from them to eliminate an army of foreign children? With those doubts in his mind, the King of Elbe headed towards the command tent where the other nobles gathered, with the massive military encampment around him accommodating the newly arrived troops of his kingdom.

Upon entering said tent he encountered several nobles from the various allied (vassal) kingdoms of the Empire. They were all talking and arguing animatedly, confident of their experience, their numbers, and the fact that their rivals were children. Some even drank at the future victory. Duran did no more than to shake his head, as he waited for the mood to relax before moving on to the planning table.

"Then" Duran said, drawing the attention of his colleagues and peers. "What will be the plan? Or will you tell me that you planned to charge head-on against an unknown enemy entrenched and fortified in an advantageous position?" A wave of uncomfortable murmurs and quiet laughter followed by silence was all the indication he needed to realize that that was the plan of the majority of the kings and generals present. "I understand... so what if we..." Duran was interrupted by a messenger who entered the tent. He wore the uniform of the imperial army, and while they couldn't discern his exact rank, the details on his clothes and armor made it clear that he was of at least a certain rank inside a legion.

"Your majesties" Greeted the messenger, kneeling before them. "I bring a message from Prince Zorzal el Caesar, who has taken command of the Imperial troops nearby Alnus Hill."

That was the first thing Duran grimaced at. There wasn't any notice of Prince Zorzal leaving the capital, an event that he always made sure to announce in every direction the wind went given his personal ego and self-importance. Him leaving the safety of the capital in secret to command a force against an unknown enemy? He was a capable enough commander, if his victories against various demi-human races was anything to go by, but he definitely wasn't the brightest. If the Empire wanted to ensure victory, why send him?

Unaware of his internal monologue, the messenger kept talking.

"His Highness wants you to attack with your armies from the front with a spearhead, spreading your troops then to encircle the enemy from the left side. The Imperial army will arrive tomorrow early in the morning to join the fight from the right side of your troops and the left of the enemy armies, attacking them from behind and completing the encirclement with at least two legions. I pray you are successful tomorrow" he reported, before standing up and leaving without waiting for an answer. Although Duran was highly suspicious of the news, and rightfully so, the spirit of his companions upon learning of the sure presence of the Imperial Army and being given a safely working plan by them left him no choice but to accept the plan proposed by the Empire. Thus, it was decided that fractions from 3 different armies, which together gathered 10,000 men, would go first, beginning the assault at dawn the next day.

Duran slept bad that night.

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XXXXXXXXXX

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D-Day +7

British Artillery General of the Academy Scott lowered his binoculars, an expression of displeasure on his face, as he saw the little to no importance given by his enemies to the non-verbal warning signs scattered around the outskirts of Alnus Hill. He could bet whatever he wanted that the Russians were thankful that an enemy finally came, and the Germans were watching with a straight expression on their faces. He would also probably win that bet. Sighing, he turned to the expectant radio liaison of his HQ, from where he managed the howitzers batteries deployed on the base's last defense line.

"Enemy spotted confirmed. Distance: 5,000 meters. Multiple formations of nearly a thousand men each, area 1km wide along the main road. Approximately ten thousand totals. Get ready your batteries."

"Yes, sir!" A short command on the radio of the officer confirmed Scott that most observers were taking more precise coordinates for their cannons. The officer turned back towards him. "Batteries ready, sir. Commanders request permission to fire."

Scott raised his binoculars once again, surveying the enemy formation on his own before speaking. Surely enough, the enemy infantry was on a clear spot, and their cavalry was mixed with the foot soldiers, not allowing it to escape in case something bad happened unexpectedly. Easy prey. "Permission granted. Fire at will and erase those wankers out of existence."

"Yes, sir."

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The head of the kingdom of Alguna, leading the combined vanguard composed of elements from the kingdoms of Mudwan, League and his own, searched anxiously on his surroundings, his assistants confidently keeping control of the troop as they approached the camp of the still-not-deployed unknown enemy teenager army. The king didn't look as confident as them, continuously shifting his gaze towards the right in hopes of finding a glimpse of the promised Imperial Army that should have already been within range of eyesight. The sun was already steadily rising on the sky, and the promised reinforcements of the imperial military weren't in sight. Shifting his gaze towards the back and spotting king Duran watching them from over an edge further behind, to whom he gave a reassuring thumbs up before leading his face to look towards the front.

It was then when he, along with most of the rest of his column, noticed the strange sound that roared in the air. Their doubts didn't last long though...

...because they were blasted into pieces by the might and power of mid-20th Century artillery pieces with a stable supply, clear line of sight and no enemy to fire back at them. The troops camouflaged in the outer perimeter either avoided their gaze at the absolute carnage, sick at the sight, kept a steeled gaze towards their objective, in case some survived and tried to charge against Alnus, or just plainly laughed loudly, taking advantage of the deafening noise of the guns to not give away their position.

Duran, on his side, was trying to make sense of what had just happened, him and his escort wrapped in the smoke raised by the event.

"Did... did Alnus hill explode?" The king spoke quietly, as if trying to make sense of what had just seen. The smoke left in place after the event flew off, dispersed by the wind, revealing the scene. One of the knights of his escort turned to the side and left out the contents of his stomach, many following suit and barely taking out their helmets in the process.

A lot of uneven earth was the first thing they could discern. A mass of what were once human remains, mixed with their broken weapons, armor and gear, made a gruesome shape in those that could still be identified as human in the battered terrain. A small amount of flames remained as a residue somewhere in what was the formation of thousands of men who came from three different kingdoms. The stench of death and shattered and charred human remains quickly filled the environment, provoking Duran to cover his nose with his gloved hand when it reached the group.

"Where's the king of Alguna?" He asked nobody, still shocked at what the destiny of his comrades was. "What about the king of Mudwan? Where are the soldiers of League?" He stood in silence for a few seconds, trying to process what was before him. "What in the name of the Heavens happened?"

In the distance, at an increasingly large distance, Alnus hill, among the dust and smoke slowly dispersing on the battlefield, stood intact and imposing.

XXXXXXXXXX

General der Akademie Hermann observed from his command post, on the same line as the artillery constantly fired to beat up the advancing enemy forces. To their credit, the enemy commander appeared to know what he was doing: after being blown up by the artillery a couple times and a few taunts along the outer perimeter, the second assault of their forces appeared to be making progress.

The dispersion of the enemy formations, first, and then of their soldiers in a guerrilla-style deployment, later, allowed them to close the distance until they reached the outer perimeter of the base, 2 kilometers from the border of it, made up mostly of light machine guns and infantry weapons, such as assault rifles, submachine guns and rifles. After some minutes of successfully repelling the enemy charges, it was a matter of time for their positions to be discovered (they weren't that camouflaged to begin with, given the small preparation time of two days at most) and their weapons to run off of ammo, leading to the enemy attacking them at short distance and forcing the evacuation because their numbers simply became too high to hold them off safely.

At the moment, the inner perimeter, made up of heavier defenses, including mortars, heavy machine guns and other support and heavy weapons, was keeping the enemy at bay pretty nicely, but they couldn't hold them off forever with the limited ammunition they had, nor the enemy appeared to be running low on manpower anytime soon. It wasn't a dire situation yet, but it could evolve into one if the enemy attack wasn't addressed soon.

They were learning, too. After a few hundred casualties they began to target their flanks, correctly deducing that the density of fire would be less severe there. Given that most machine guns and support equipment were placed in the front side of the defense, those weren't good news for anyone on their side.

Apparently, though, his own officers wanted to take matters into their own hands. That's what he expected when they came to him in group, giving themselves worried looks of anxiety and enjoyment as one of them approached and saluted him.

"Herr General" he started, confident. "The enemy army has started to carry large-scale flanking maneuvers on our positions, evading most of our artillery arcs of fire and MG nests."

"Yeah, I noticed" was his answer, pointing absently to the roaring battlefield at his back. At that moment, a compact enemy group of two hundred men, hurled together to try and assault the defense line, were blown off by a precise artillery projectile that scattered their remains far and wide. "What is your point, Oberst? We are both smart enough to realize you lot didn't come to tell me that."

Even though Hermann himself had a face of impatience, most of the officers behind the one in front of him left out a few silent chuckles. The make-shift representative kept his cool, speaking again in a respectful tone.

"We came to you, sir, to ask for permission to drive out in the Panzers to hunt them" came the petition, with the tank commanders behind him anxiously waiting for the answer. Hermann took himself a couple seconds to think about the battlefield, and then headed to the radio of his command post.

"Patch me through to general Scott, general Meller, general Kessler, general Isakovich and General Ivanov" he ordered, the radioman nodding before calling the named leading officers of most of the academies present. Hermann stood a couple minutes talking with them, before nodding, giving an affirmative answer, and heading back to the group of officers, who were waiting where he left them, steady. When he stepped near the group, they all went to firm positions and stayed there, expectants of a possible answer. Finally, internally feeling proud of his men, Hermann spoke:

"You have permission to leave and attack from our right flank. Ivans will take the left, and the tommies will act as an armored reserve in case anything weird happens."

The soldiers barely hid their excitement. "Jawohl mein herr!" Joining their heels together with a noticeable sound and giving one final salute, the officers of the Panzerkorps left the scene, road to their vehicles. Hermann shifted on his feet and went back to his command post, back to watching the battle.

The enemy reaction at the tanks would surely be priceless, and he couldn't afford to miss a second of it.

.

Duran's attack plan was working, or so it seemed at least. His calculation of the enemy strange powers working only a few areas, after the scouting raids attempted to draw their forces out, seemed to be at least partially correct: it was a fact that the forces advancing on the flanks of the enemy stronghold were having fewer casualties and gained terrain at a much quicker pace that the ones sent to the middle. He knew they couldn't give up on said part, less the enemy would displace their heavenly powers against their flanking troops, so it was a necessary measure to send troops to the meat grinder that was the central sector of the front.

The Allied Army was made up of several kingdoms and vassal states, numbering nearly twenty of them. Duran, being the most experienced king remaining and the leader of one of the larger countries, took command of the operation after the disastrous morning attack against Alnus. So far, they were advancing. Bloodily and taxing, but advancing.

He was just about to head back to give a rodeo around to the battlefield to reach the other side when multiple screams up ahead made him stop. Turning his head towards the frontline, he managed to spot a single soldier of Elbe running back to his lines, shaking his arms at them.

"S-sir! E-enemy iron elephants! They aren't many, but they are too powerful! None of our weapons have been able to touch them, let alone cause any harm, and they have annihilated hundreds of men in a matter of seconds! We must retire before they reach us!" The soldier was forced to shut up by his comrades in arms, attributing his comments to cowardice and fear, but the old king had learned to expect anything from this new enemy from the other side of the GATE.

"Silence!" Duran ordered, quieting his men. The frightened soldier listened and lowered his trembling gaze, kneeling before his king. "Is it true what you tell us, or are they exaggerations from your imagination, made up by the violent battlefield?"

"Is all true, sir. I myself witnessed it from the distance with my companions. We were planning to attack those strange enemy elephants from behind, but they turned around and fired more of those invisible needles, leaving two places at once. And then there were their long, straight tubes made of metal. They were spitting out devastating explosive and fire magic that wiped out our soldiers from their ranks of battle. We decided to withdraw, but only five of us managed to flee. The rest were wiped out..." he recounted, trembling, his pitiful experience against his enemies and his beasts of steel being told to everyone present.

"If that is true, and only five of you escaped... Why are you alone here?" The old king asked the soldier, an analytical look on his face.

"Two of them died due to the needles coming from the enemy's main defenses, trying to pick us up to avoid us telling you the news. The other were wounded and are being treated on the frontlines."

"I see..." If Duran said something else or not, no one knew. The noise caused by the allied soldiers, the explosions, and the needles fired by their enemies was deafened by a noise unknown to them, one they would learn to fear: the sound of a tank engine roaring.

Turning their heads, Elbe's soldiers were able to observe all the majesty of a Panzer troop rushing towards them, cutting down allied soldiers if they were nothing but thin cloth. Shortly after seeing them, the tanks began to spit out the dreaded invisible needles towards Elbe's soldiers, who in a futile effort placed their shields to protect their king. Behind the shield defense of the ones who could muster enough courage to defend their monarch, the soldiers from all the kingdoms alike ran into a disorganized retreat, many not eve returning to their camp, while the king's aides proceeded to try and direct the evacuation from the danger zone, pulling with them their king to a safe zone. Duran saw his men being annihilated by those gray metal elephants with strange black crosses that carried death wherever they went, erasing veteran soldiers from the face of the earth and leaving their remains unrecognizable. A further view of the battlefield told him that the same thing happened to the soldiers on the other side of the hill, only this time they were green elephants.

And, thus, the second allied offensive failed, with casualties that amounted at least thirty thousand deaths. The last image to be engraved on Duran's head in the closing moments of the brutal combat was that of a young Allied soldier being crushed by what appeared to be the leg mechanism of one of those iron elephants.

.

Perhaps the most tedious task after a battle was having to clean his tank. Annihilating his enemies with no chance for them to actually defend themselves was fun and all, but the sheer amount of blood and metal debris clinging to the tank's tracks caused an annoying and permanent cleaning job. When he and his team had already cleaned most of the tracks, he motioned for the driver to move the tank a bit backwards to clean the parts that he could not clean if they were covered by the iron mole. Moving slightly and braking, a still bleeding head fell from the track.

.

XXXXXXXXXX

.

D-Day +8

Duran had already proven the ineffectiveness of attacking while the sun shone on the sky, spreading its light on the battlefield. Another assault in the morning left a balance of 15,000 deaths, including a couple of kings. Adding up the lethal and wounded casualties from the day before, it yielded a total of several killed and wounded kings, numbering at 12 out of 18 totals. The allied army started with about 200,000 men, but currently only two thirds of them remained combat capable. Rumors said that half of the remaining soldiers were planning, in one way or another, desertion, especially after the appearance of the iron elephants on the battlefield. And the Saderan Imperial Army still did not appear.

"Do you think we should leave?" Asked one of the other kings who survived the massacre. He was not an old king, but he was not young either. He had arrived full of goodwill and hopes of glory, but now it seemed that a 50-year-old shadow had been placed over his shoulders, darkening his brow.

"No," Duran replied as he looked at the helmet of the King of Alguna, recovered that day during combat. "It would be a disgrace to our fallen comrades. We must at least die with honor."

"Are you actually crazy, Duran? Half the army is gone already. What chance do we have to actually beat them?" Asked another one. The three of them were the only ones in the command tent. Most of the other kings were wounded in the battle or were with their own troops, surely contemplating retreat before this animal-like death. Let the Empire be damned, most already had given up on survival at this point.

"So, what do you suggest?" Asked this time the first king, looking up to him. "Knowing you, there's a plan forming up already."

"Let's try a night assault, a couple hours past midnight. It is our only chance to get close to them without being detected and dying along the way. By now, it's clear that the imperial army will not appear. Who knows if maybe they were already annihilated by them."

"Yeah, who knows... anyway, I'll see you two at night."

"Yeah. Until then."

"Until the night."

.

D-Day +9
0200 hours

The plan was working well. They had managed to get close to the enemy positions, passing over the Allied corpses that had been scattered throughout the field. In otherworldly silence, the remaining kings of the allied army arrived with their troops at the line of defenses dug into the ground by their enemies. But great was their surprise to find the lines so defended during the day, empty.

And then, as if listening to their doubts, one of the soldiers stepped on something similar to a plaque. This caused something to shoot into the sky, exploding in a small light source at a high altitude. For several seconds no one said anything, just watching as that strange light fell and went out. When they reacted and started to advance again, confident in the lack of response from the defending army, multiple sounds were heard coming from the enemy base. For another few seconds nothing else was heard, until above them the sky lit up as if it were daytime, with many lights similar to the previous one but with greater range. The king of Elbe didn't take long assimilating the situation, and what it meant for his men.

"Go! Go ahead! Charge!" He began to order everyone as his horse galloped ahead. The soldiers began to run, only to begin to suffer the devastating effects of enemy powers in their advance. Duran managed to make some progress, but his horse fell dead, victim of more barbed wire first and then the enemy needles second. His men soon came to his position and helped him up while protecting him with their shields. But Duran already knew what he had to do.

"Fall back! Come on, everyone back!" He started to push his men towards the way back, when a flurry of needles reached his position. Duran watched as most of his men were cut down from those yellow blasts that took their lives without mercy or honor, just watching their shields and armor being pierced as if they were not there. His one eye watched the massacre, shocked by the killing.

.

Karl Schmidt stared straight ahead, peeking out of his tank hatch. His machine gun in the hatch was firing constant lead ahead towards the enemy lines. A show repeated throughout the defense of the base, prioritized during the night at the cost of withdrawing from the inner defense perimeter. The machine guns and cannons of the tanks and infantry kept crushing the enemies located in the field, most of them trying to advance towards them. Due to that, the thousand meters of distance between both points was full of blood and human remains. Sighing and stopping firing so that the gun didn't overheat, the officer adjusted his cap again as he watched the night landscape deafened and light up by the sound and flash of the guns. A sound indicated that the vehicle's main weapon was loaded, and his gunner looked at him waiting for confirmation to make the deed.

He nodded back.

"Fire."

.

He took a few steps. His foot collided with something, which turned out to be a bow. Picking it up, he grabbed an arrow from the ground nearby and shot it, looking it lose itself in the night, on the way toward his enemies but probably not reaching them. Duran's head was only wondering how he got into this situation, his brain slowly connecting the dots and leading him to figure out why Emperor Molt called them there.

"How? How could this happen? How did we let this happen?" He looked towards the dark sky, illuminated by the strange lights as bright as the sun, and the yellow lines that the enemy magic left behind, seeking to annihilate more of his men. "Was this what you wanted, Molt?"

Letting himself sink into despair and abandonment, the old king began to laugh out loud. When his iris began to drift from the center of his eye, his sanity all but gone, an explosion occurred at his side, sending him flying. Duran just let go of everything, ceasing to feel the rest of his body. But nothing mattered to him.

He just wanted to laugh and sleep ...

.

The Russian officer had been firing his gun for a while. His tank also contributed to the best of its capabilities to the base's defense, though its meager number of shots per minute kept it from doing much. As a result, he opened his hatch and sat on it, his whole body exposed, and taking out a bottle of a transparent liquid that he knew certain officers would wonder how he did to obtain it while being literally in another world. When he was about to open it, an arrow fell and bounced off the steel of his tank, right next to him, before falling to the ground, useless. The Russian officer only stared at it for a few seconds, wondering how much distance it had to travel just to get there, before returning to his own issues, mainly how to open said bottle, downplaying what would be the last defiant action against his base probably in a long time, if not ever.

That vodka wasn't going to drink itself, wasn't it?

.

XXXXXXXXXX

.

Late Morning

The battle had ceased. The enemy withdrew after the mass retreat during the night, amid a chaos greater than what the young generals in charge of the teenager war academies would have anticipated. The artillery shells followed them until they reached the limit of their useful range, further disorganizing the chaotic retreat and completely dissolving the army that attacked them. Evidence of this was the large amount of human and material remains present there, scattering along many kilometers away from the base.

Multiple mobile units had been deployed throughout the sector to search for wounded, prisoners, and to keep the nearby terrain explored and guarded. These units generally consisted of half-track and motorized infantry, although some light and medium tanks were added to grant some extra firepower in the event of a possible eventuality. Although for many that was nothing more than an expense of oil, the large number of deployed enemies during the fight led the high command to insist on the presence of the armor, lest their troops be surprised by enemy rear actions and be overwhelmed by their numbers.

Miho got out of her Panzer IV and climbed a nearby hill, leaving her friends to guard the tank. Holding the pistol gifted to her in her right hand, she approached the German officer who was examining something at the top. When she arrived, he stood up with a small badge with a coat of arms and a helmet in his hands. After looking at them for a bit he tossed the helmet down the slope, keeping to himself the badge as a trophy. In the distance, at several hills one could see other academic soldiers watching their surroundings or looking for vital signs in people that could still be alive. Some scavenger birds flew around, but it was an abysmally low number due to constant patrolling from the occupying force and the noise their engines made. Despite everything, the sky was still blue. With that landscape between depressing, neutral and happy and between dead and alive, Miho stood in her place next to the acquaintance officer and took a deep, slow breath. Karl just took off his officer's cap and adjusted it on his head, his own tank parked nearby the pair.

"Is it me or do you have a habit of adjusting your cap?" Miho asked, seeing him take off said cap and adjust it again.

"Call it whatever you want. Although it works when there is nothing to do." That said, he proceeded to look for his gun, checking the magazine and the safety. Once it was done, he pulled out another different gun and shot it up into the sky, launching a green flare that deactivated after a few seconds of reaching its maximum height. With a sigh he tossed the disposable weapon away, grabbing his pistol in his right hand again. Miho observed that the action was repeated by some teams, while others shot a red one. The interval was quite uneven, so she assumed it was used when they finished exploring a sector: green for when there was nothing, red when there were prisoners. Miho breathed again before speaking:

"And here we came to fight," she murmured, observing the landscape with the sun behind them.

"... and here we came to fight" Karl repeated while imitating the action, setting once and for all his officer's cap on his head.

At the highest point of the base, on the poles installed at the center of it, the flags of the United Kingdom, Russia, Germany, and Japan waved imposingly.