A/N: Not much to say, aside from the fact this was supposed to be published in February. Yeah, really late.

About last chapter, just a note from the Spanish version: how the dragon was killed was defined beforehand, with Chapter 8 noting how modern planes were prepared to kill it off quickly. Reason why I picked British planes is because when I wrote this back in 2017, German air force was already pitiful, US was a newcomer, and the US and Russia wouldn't allow each other's modern planes in Falmart. Plus, it's students we're talking about. So, British were picked from being "the rest", even with the Special Relationship they have with the US. Not the brightest of my reasonings, but oh well, I was a bored highschooler back then. And even I knew how bad the Luftwaffe was doing. Apparently, it hasn't improved one bit.

So, regarding this chapter. Since it was roughly here when I decided not only to rush the remaining plot but also how to do it, this chapter is the whole Rondel Arc summed up with a couple twists. So, it's a long thing not that developed, but then again, we haven't exactly been following canon in this story for a while now, especially when it comes to Falmart locals. Just as a heads up, we're not even two months into the GATE at this point in the fanfic, and a fair amount was spent on fighting, so not really a lot of room for diplomacy and hearts and minds (which, admittedly, were never the focus of this story anyway).

Also, quick heads up: the character of Risa Tsukamoto is not canon Risa, but a character sent by a reader back in the day.

Disclaimer: "GATE: thus, the JSDF fought there!" and "Girls und Panzer" do not belong to me, all credit to their respective authors/owners. This is merely a fan-made project that seeks no monetary gain or compensation.

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Chapter 11
Rondel

Ligs
D-Day +51
8:04 hours

Miho, accompanied by some of her subordinates, stared with wide eyes from a hill at the soldiers patrolling the remnants of what once was a town called Ligs, now barely mounts of rubble and stone created by the fierce combat there not even a week ago. Petrakov cursed under his breath at his absence for the battle, while the rest of the group exchanged glances between them and the improvised repairs that held the bridge together.

After a while, the quintet that was Miho, Maho, Petrakov, Hans, and Huxley headed back to the battalion's camp in the outskirts of town. On the way up they spotted the sentry rings around the ruins of the town on the other side of the river, sharply on the lookout for enemy personnel attempting to regain control of the bridge.

Miho led them to the command tent, briefly stopping to look around once both Petrakov and Maho noted the lacking number of soldiers. The Russian was quick to chalk it up the fight for Ligs, which he theorized, "any resistance harsh enough to warrant risking the bridge's integrity must've surely provoked casualties." Not long after they reached their destination, finding two captains speaking quietly with the major and excusing themselves as soon as the group appeared. Major Schmidt nodded at them, straightened his clothes, and tiredly allowed himself to relax a little on his campaign chair after briefly returning the salute.

"We have arrived, Herr Major," greeted Miho, lowering her hand from her temple.

"So I've seen," replied the German officer, making a slight nod. His eyes, however, betrayed a faint exhaustion.

"Excuse me, Herr Major, but I've noticed a lack of troops compared to the usual amount at the camp. Are they at the other side of the river?"

"Oh, that." Schmidt's dismissive attitude at the issue did little to calm Miho's worries. "We had some casualties in the battle. That imperial commander knew what he was doing, and he has mages to boost. I wonder how he ended up here, but at least he wasn't in command at Italica. Things would've turned very ugly very quickly with someone like that around."

"S-so the missing people..."

"Dead, wounded, transporting said dead and wounded, some in the perimeter on the other side of the river, and I think we left a small detachment on Italica for some reason. I forgot if colonel Laundraff told me, but at least they will serve as replacements for our casualties before resuming our advance."

"Where are we going?" Asked Khoakin, frowning. "This is too much to merely take a bridge, as vital as it is... which reminds me, why are we heading this way? The imperial capital is to the east, not the west. Did you brain finally rot?"

Karl sighed, ignoring Petrakov's taunts.

"I was just talking about that before you lot came in. Long story short, we're going on a recon and flanking manoeuvre." The major pointed lazily at the map extended in the table in front of him, his gaze sweeping the marked spots. "This was made in Alnus for military purposes from the intel we gathered in Italica. Our current objective is to get to Rondel, here."

His pointing stick landed on the city, a major hub of movements and population if the size of its name and area on the map were worth anything.

"Why? What does Rondel serve to our war? Sounds like local problems to me." While Roth was quick to question the directive, Petrakov had crossed his arms and was examining the map with expert eye.

"One little quirk of Rondel is that it's an autonomous city which isn't exactly in friendly terms with the Empire." Explained the German officer, ignoring the NCO. "Command wants to know for sure whether we can use it as a flanking route from the north, bypassing and isolating Bellnahgo to the north, and reaching the northern flank of the cities of Sadera and Telta, the heartland of the Empire, barely firing a shot. That's the gist of it at least."

Miho did her own examination of the route after her superior explained the plan. While a part of her mind was searching for any potential flaws, the other was worrying about the risks.

"Just us?" Without support? It's a fairly large area, and I know the Vanguard Regiment has more troops than just us. Not to mention, half our troops are... well, armoured."

"Beggars can't be choosers." Schmidt shrugged, taking off his cap and rotating it around his index finger. "Most of the flashy support is going towards Woods' Elbe expedition, wrestling over control of the Roma River with the press. I heard they were about to reach Deabis one of these days. The rest of the regiment is seeking other ways to reach the imperial capital as we speak. Hausser and Weiss are testing the mountain pass at Lancia, guarded by the Mare Fortress. They were besieging Arcusa-Arnhelm last time we spoke."

"That sounds like Arnhem, from the Netherlands," commented Petrakov, raising and eyebrow.

"Yeah, we noticed. Further down south, also on the Dumas Mountain Range, majors Davis and Novikov were attempting to force a road crossing from imperial hands, but I doubt it's worth much. Only light vehicles could pass through there in the best of days."

"Sounds a bit limited, considering how many troops we have in Falmart," noted Petrakov, frowning. "Any particular reason?"

"Kampfgruppe Model is back in Alnus inspecting every movement we do. We must keep appearances."

"Ugh, privateers." Khoakin's distaste was clear, and by the looks of it, Schmidt's was as well.

"Yes, privateers. Fuckers have way too much time in their hands."

"So, we really have no reinforcements at all?" Asked Maho, raising an eyebrow while giving a protective step towards her sister.

"There're a few companies of Köln Akademie coming to garrison the positions we conquer, but other than that, we're on our own." Schmidt checked his watch, making no discernible facial expression. Immediately he looked up outside the tent, spotting three officers coming. "You should go set up camp with the rest. We're moving out eastwards across the river in roughly 72 hours. You are dismissed."

Any chance for a rebuttal was lost once the three officers reached the tent. Petrakov led the group outside after throwing a side glance at the major, holding on his words while they walked.

"Didn't you notice that German... I don't know, way more fucking friendly than usual?" He finally broke the silence after they were out of ear range.

"Huh... did he really?" Miho's confusion was mirrored by her older sister and the American. Roth, however, nodded immediately.

"Way too much. He's laxer now than compared to Italica, and he was destroyed after that," he agreed. "Something must've happened for him to be this lax. Maybe he's distracted by something?"

"A devastated town can't be the excuse. Maybe that imperial commander was indeed way tougher than expected, but it can't be all." Khoakin took his hand to his chin. "And speaking of missing people... Fehring's not here, is she?"

"She isn't. But everyone else is." Roth swept his eyes over the camp, taking in the familiar faces from the last weeks of campaign. "So she was left out, most likely. Why, I do not know."

"If she isn't here, then the question becomes... where?"

XXXXXXXXX

Academic Coalition Headquarters, Italica military district

"Any news on the prisoner?"

"None, Frau Oberleutnant. Prisoner's as you left her yesterday."

"Good."

Rise stared up towards the door of her cell. She could clearly hear the voices on the other side, not that they bothered to lower their volume. As far as she knew, she was the only prisoner in there who could understand Earth languages, and they thought she was unable to register their words anyway.

It was a given that between her wrinkled clothes, messy hair, bags under her eyes, and the lost gaze she used every time they unlocked the door, she put up a pretty convincing act of being lost on her own world. From time to time, she massaged the spots in which the guards hit her with the butts of their rifles, aiding to the idea of a weak prisoner.

"Are there any news or instructions from Alnus, ma'am?"

"Negative. Command seems to still be paralyzed regarding her."

"Maybe they'll wait for a while before declaring her missing in action?"

"I think that's what they'll do."

It seemed that her imprisonment was still informal, all things considered. If they could still get away with declared her missing in action, an official report on her detained status was clearly not on the academic bureaucratic system yet.

The door was unlocked, and Risa was quick to let herself lay on the corner of the cell, gaze up on the ceiling. Erika Fehring stepped into the cell soon after, her boots loud against the hard floor as she stared at the prisoner with anger.

"Damn bitch... and to think this girl here almost caught us..."

"Ma'am, do you know if we'll be deployed? While I'm all for staying in base, even I feel like going to fight the war out there..."

"They grabbed reinforcements just yesterday. If they didn't pick us then, I don't have high hopes for us." She replied to the guard, making her way to the collapsed shape of Risa. Erika crouched down until she reached her level, staring with disdain at the spy. "And I blame this pathetic bitch over here for it."

"Frau Oberleutnant?"

Erika stared deep into Risa's eyes. The Japanese woman was absently looking at one of the ceiling's corners, probably trying to unlock some mystery in the prefab structure. The German girl scoffed at this, clenching her teeth.

"I was supposed to lead one of those battalions... at least a company..." She groaned as she stood up, shaking her head slightly. "Instead, I'm here taking care of a crippled fraud of a spy... doesn't matter, let's go. Prisoner transfer is scheduled in five days, make sure she stays here. The press in Alnus can't get a hold of this."

"Yes, ma'am!"

Fehring left the cell soon after, the guard closing the door behind her. Risa relaxed in her spot immediately, taking a deep breath. She wondered how long she had to put up the act, but at least she got new information now: a prisoner transfer was coming soon.

She would act then.

XXXXXXXXX

Unknown location, near the imperial capital

Diabo smiled at the sight in front of him. The few members of his new unit were lined up and awaiting orders, a proof of their discipline and hellish training, yet they were so few that he could see all with but a glance. Less than 500 men made up his new formation, yet he felt proud of the results.

Sure, they were far from the tallest, the strongest, or even the most attractive of the Empire. They lacked the wealth from traditional military families and the family ties to nomad tribes. One would be wise not to underestimate them, though: they were in good shape, were proficient in all sorts of weapons, and were way smarter than their peers in the legions.

Truth to be told, if one removed their military gear, they could pass for your average citizen in almost every corner of the vast Empire. They would attract unwanted attention by any means, at least by their appearance and attitude alone. That was their actual strength: they could pass for average people anywhere in the known world, which, coupled with a natural talent for initiative and thinking on-the-fly, made them perfect for Prince Diabo's little experiment against the otherworldly invader.

Because, while Zorzal dismissed all news coming from the frontlines for the last few weeks and Pina had betrayed the Empire, ordering the Rose Order to sack the Jade Palace and desert to her position in the occupied Italica, he had been listening to the reports arriving, taking under him all capable commanders he could find. The result was his newly created unit, the Diabo Squads (pending official name), capable of fighting as a tight-nit group or in small, dispersed groups using initiative and adaptability.

Diabo had studied how their new enemy fought. They took advantage of distance for their weapons and avoided close combat whenever possible. One could go so far as to say they were cowards, if it didn't work so efficiently. An imperial legate worked with him to iron out the details, testing them to a good degree in the fight for the bridge of Ligs. They had inflicted more casualties to the enemy in what was a minor skirmish that during the entire grand battle of Italica, despite the lack of numbers in Jiuns side. Now, with the teenager army coming to the city of studies and magic, it was time to test the concept himself.

After all, one doesn't need to engage in fair fights in war, right?

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D-Day +54

Nothing more than a pile of ruins and ashes, coupled with a guard post in a damaged bridge, remained at Ligs after most members of Kampfgruppe Schmidt departed towards the west following the Appia Highway. Decided not to face their long-time rivals of the Köln Akademie, the institution in charge of the relief force tasked to guard their rear positions, major Schmidt pushed for the column to abandon the strategic town in the first hours of the morning of D-Day +54, instructing the guards left behind to double-time their trip to reach the main unit later in the day once the new guards arrived.

The Appia Highway, the same route used to reach Ligs from Italica, was a welcomed addition to the Academic Coalition supply lines and transport routes. While made of cobblestone instead of asphalt, its solid materials and standardized construction made it for a blessing in the eyes of mechanics and planners alike and was quickly used as the primary route in all movements where it was feasible even if it cost more in terms of time and fuel. With a network sprawling most large cities and important towns in the Empire of Sadera, including connecting Italica with Sadera through the Dumas Mountains, Alnus Command was certain that said highway was the key to success in the coming operations against the locals.

Not long after departing from the crossing town they deviated north, following a branch of the imperial highway headed to the imperial city of Bellnahgo. After a one-hour stop for food and rest, they resumed the march north during the afternoon.

Benefited by calm climate and moderate temperatures typical of what seemed like early autumn back on Earth, the academic troops moved at a steady pace in their advance through imperial rear territory. Soldiers and officers alike became increasingly worried about the perceived tranquillity of the countryside, having gotten used to the frenzy and activity of the last few days and the fierce fighting for Ligs, and their worries were not aided by how their superior officers kept their speed with little in terms of explorers and screens to the sidelines.

Their fears, however, were for naught: nothing but a few small bandit parties appeared in their day-long trip through the enemy rear, with not even enemy patrols on sight. For many, it seemed like their enemy had vanished into thin air. Some theorized it was from their main forces withdrawing into the main cities and outposts, while others reasoned they were spent after defending Ligs. Whatever the case, barely a soul aside from the local peasant was present in their advance. The small number of bandits present also seemed to be a trend, given the large amount of mass graves they found in their way. Suspicion of legionnaire activity to hunt them down before the showdown at Ligs was considered, but it was conjecture at best with their available information.

The kampfgruppe decided to mount camp a few kilometres to the south of the bifurcation of the road which led to Rondel, mounting a steel perimeter with the tanks and half-tracks on the outside and the campfires inside. While some sceptics remained, most had embraced the idea of no enemy presence to sleep without worries for the night, and the officers, tired as they were, were happy to let them drift to Morpheus' hands as long as they did nothing crazy.

It was against this atmosphere of calm and quietness that the relatively loud sound of officer call was heard. Begrudgingly, officers and aides woke up or stopped their current activities and dragged their feet towards the command tent, slowly filling it for what they hoped would be a short meeting.

"Any reason you think they call us at this time, Onee-san?" Miho asked, rubbing her eyes as she made her way towards the meeting point. Her older sister shook her head slightly, in far better shape than her. Both Nishizumi's reached the place soon after to find Roth already inside, looking a bit tired but not worse for wear than them.

"Frau Major, good night... though it's a bit weird to say it when we rode side by side all day," he greeted them. Miho returned the salute lazily and in poor shape.

"Night, Roth..." Miho's eyes made their way around the tent, seeing most company commanders and their assistants or second in command already inside. "Where's Petrakov? Is he late?"

"I tried to make him come to the meeting, but he was already drunk and spewing nonsense. When asked to clarify, he replied he wasn't in the mood to "see the top brass" and shut his hatch." Roth shrugged, leading both sisters to a spot near the table's midpoint. It was just in time for the "top brass", as Khoakin had called them, to appear at the table's head: Karl Schmidt, head of the Kampfgruppe, flanked by Louis Walker, commander of the Heavy Group (the informal 1st battalion of the Vanguard Regiment), and George Grant, the American in charge of the Light Group (or 2nd Battalion), followed by Walther Fritz, Schmidt's aide-de-camp.

"Good night, ladies and gentlemen," greeted the German officer, receiving several half-backed greetings and salutes in return as Fritz deployed the campaign map on the table. "I take it all of you have read the information gathered from Italica and Ligs. To that I will add information gathered from locals of this area. To make it short, we're currently camping here," he pointed to a spot on the map a few kilometres south of the branch in the road that would lead them to Rondel, "and this town right next to the bifurcation we must take is Clunia. To answer everyone's question as to why we're camping here instead of the town, that's the reason I called this meeting."

Several nods and affirmative murmurs travelled the tent, along with tired eyes.

"Given how our information on imperial capabilities on Ligs proved to be off by a considerable margin, we took the liberty to interrogate locals for information," informed Fritz, taking a step next to Schmidt. "Thanks to that we found out that in the last few months, relations between the Empire of Sadera and the city-state of Rondel have worsened considerably, and, against our best intel from Italica, Clunia was garrisoned again by the Empire not too long ago because of it. The imperial force should number in the vicinity of fifteen hundred men, given it's a crossroads that any invading force should use should it head to Rondel from the east." The irony was not lost to many, and chuckles filled the tent. "The garrison is second-rate at best, though, so its equipment and quality of personnel are far from the ones we saw in Ligs."

"However," continued Louis, crossing his arms. "We can't say the same thing from Bellnahgo's garrison, which numbers in the five figures at least and has top quality troops. A single messenger makes it out of Clunia and we'll have the whole garrison coming over to us."

"While I'm positive we could defeat Bellnahgo's garrison in open combat, a siege is a different matter, let alone a pursuit behind enemy lines. I'm confident I don't have to remind you the mission takes precedence over fun battles."

Schmidt's words cooled off the atmosphere enough for most to dismiss their ideas of how to engage the troops from Bellnahgo. Seeing how no one talked, Grant took one step forward.

"We know from all this that Rondel's mages, or at least their leaders, will be alerted and probably suspicious of activity to their west. We can't be careless on our approach, nor have a messenger of Clunia reach Rondel. For all we know they aren't aware of our war against Sadera, and we would like to keep it like that."

"So that's the main issue," concluded Fritz, "How to take Clunia without a messenger escaping either to Bellnahgo or Rondel without razing the entire town to the ground? While effective, it's not efficient and could alert neighbouring cities, so we're looking for alternatives."

The tent went silent on the aide's words, most of those present thinking but more than a handful just wasting the seconds away. Long moments passed, yet no words were uttered.

"It seems frontal assault it is," Schmidt mumbled, holding in a sight which, at a glance, was a collective feeling. "Get your men ready by 0600 tomorrow, and let's pray no one manages to escape."

"Hold on," Louis spoke, eyeing the rest, "Let's search and destroy their key buildings. You know, officer barracks and the like. Bomb them from outside, let's leave them without leadership. Then we ask them to surrender, and if they don't, we simply bomb them into submission if they come out to fight us."

"And if they don't come out to fight us?"

"They'll be trapped in the city. We can safely bomb them from above until they surrender, or they all die."

Louis plan received wide approval, at least from the low-voice comments that filled the tent as he finished speaking. That is, it received approval from most present.

Most.

"But that..." Miho's words quieted the chatter almost like commanded by a spell, the gaze of the officers centred in her immediately. "That would be too risky. Unless we get too close for our safety, we can't guarantee we'll hit only military targets with artillery... a-and we don't know what buildings are military and civilian. We can't kill innocent people because of that!"

"We're at war, miss. We're not aiming towards the civilian population, but there's bound to be collaterals when fighting in urban areas," replied the British captain, arms still crossed as he stared up and down the Japanese officer. "Unless, of course, you propose another plan that doesn't involve getting our tanks into close range of the enemy in urban terrain."

The pressure Miho felt increased tenfold at that moment. It was no secret that, despite her official rank, she was still "an outsider" in the eyes of the "career" academic officers, even if the most valued outsider. It was to be expected, as well: she had no prior military experience to speak of, limiting herself to tactics in a sport using war machines to play what some criticists called "a war version of tag."

This pressure made it hard to think, especially when said "career" officers were around her watching like a pack of wolves, waiting for her to commit a mistake as unimportant as it may be to tear her up. Luckily, her sister Maho came to the rescue.

"Our company has heavy tanks, and HE shells as well," she noted, taking a step forward from behind her little sister. "Once we have identified the target buildings, and made sure they are military buildings, we can use the heavy weapons in our vehicles to destroy them with pinpoint accuracy from the hills. I think all who have seen our classmates in action can vouch for their accuracy and reload speed." None dared to defy her statement, and a few even nodded in support. "After that is done, we can send someone to ask for their surrender or wait for their confused mass to present battle. We can surround the city from above and..." Maho took a rest, swallowing in preparation for what she wanted to say. Luckily, Roth catch on was able to aid.

"Then we can repeat what Major Hausser did in Italica: surround them from above, then bomb them to oblivion. The height and crossed arcs of fire will prevent any attack from reaching our men, and a small mobile reserve can fill any breaches that may happen in the defence, should they even occur."

Nobody spoke for what seemed like an eternity, the eyes of the present going from the Japanese sisters and their aide towards the kampfgruppe leadership and back, until finally one of the latter cracked.

"Sounds like a good idea." Louis declared, hand at his chin as he exchanged glances with Schmidt and Grant. "I support it."

"Any other observations?" Schmidt's question was answered by heads shook and negatives from his subordinates. "Good. The Vanguard Company will make the first shots tomorrow targeting the enemy's headquarters and barracks, and any other important building. Captain Adams, you are in charge of spotting the building for the attack. I want the list ready for Nishizumi at 0630 hours."

"Understood, major."

"The rest must be in position tomorrow at the same time. Steel perimeter, no one in or out of Clunia until after the battle. We'll form an armoured triangle using the vanguard and armoured companies as vertex, with the six infantry companies lined up on the sides and artillery as close to our camp as possible." Schmidt checked his watch, noticing it was four minutes until midnight. "See you tomorrow morning. You are dismissed."

The operation carried out the next day played out like a textbook combat, according to some. Turned out, according to after-action reports from prisoners, Clunia had little warning regarding the main war in the south and wasn't aware of the defeat of Ligs defenders. Given the hastiness with which the troop was mobilized, as well, the soldiers were also of lower quality than usual. As a result, once the initial buildings targeted by the Vanguard Company's heavy tanks were destroyed, confusion reigned in the ranks, and it wasn't until an hour had passed that some of the legionnaires tried to form up and present battle.

Two thirds became casualties, including half the garrison that perished in the fighting. The survivors were soon put to work in aiding the kampfgruppe's men in burying the dead and preparing prisoner facilities, thanks to which the battle group was mostly done with after-battle duties in the evening. The officers decided to camp on the now damaged city before continuing their journey to Rondel with the first light of the following day, leaving behind the Chilean motorized infantry company of captain Silva to guard the prisoners until the relief force of Köln Akademie caught up to them. Schmidt sighed before nodding to his driver, soon the half-track's engine roaring to life to mark the column's quick departure to the west towards the Rondel Valley, the students decided to make up for the lost day by maxing their engines capabilities.

The valley, as they soon found out, was wide enough for the whole column to be deployed if needed, even if there was only one major road in good condition to speak of (that being the main highway). The jump in quality from the lacklustre branch imperial road and the highway surrounding the city-state was noticeable at the naked eye, and the smoothness with which the vehicles traversed it only reinforced the point. The mountain ranges at both sides were ever present, yet their shapes remained far away and barely a scenery for planners and explorers aside.

Explorers on both sides of the column reported several villages and towns nurturing the countryside, most dedicated to subsistence agriculture and none but a handful reaching the upper half of the three digits in population, though in far more abundance than in the imperial side of the border. Again, theories and conjectures were brought up, but nothing that could be proved immediately. Contrary to the Saderan countryside, too, there was not a single military facility or presence in sight, not even road patrols or guard posts.

In fact, there was not a single sight of a military or even a militia anywhere. Preliminary research showed that, for most villagers, a "military" was synonym with "imperial army." An oddity, to be sure, but a noted one. In the second half of the road to Rondel, command decided to drop the "military" part of the group's presentation, leaving the group to label itself as simply "students." There was little to do with the uniforms, however, so the most aware of the locals could often link them to some sort of organized group of some kind, even if not directly military.

It was during the afternoon that the head of the column encountered a group of what seemed academics and scientists in the way, left in evidence by their baggage full of notes and tools for field research. Deciding to hide their capabilities, a section was tasked with getting references to reach the city and what to do while there. Initial mistrust was a given, and the similar uniforms of the group were a clear give away of their not-so-peaceful nature, but a quick exchange of data was agreed upon soon: a demonstration of what a pistol could do (the section hadn't bothered to hide them in the first place) for instructions on how to reach Rondel and how far out it was. A quick show with blank bullets, and the column had more or less reliable data to continue its journey once the scholars went away (itself not a difficult task, they were on their way already).

Despite their best wishes, the column was still a fair distance away from Rondel by sunset, so they mounted camp in a clear of a forest next to the road for the night, once again forming an iron perimeter using the armoured vehicles as protection. However, the lack of enemies and the sudden quietness after the battle, plus the frenzy with which the officers pushed the column forward, made it difficult to not fall asleep almost immediately once accommodation was set up and the day called off. Even some of the sentries had to be awoken by officers and NCO doing rounds during the night, even if, same as the soldiers, they thought there was little, if anything, to worry about.

It was because of that same attitude that none of them noticed the people observing them from a distance, merged with the shadows...

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XXXXXXXXX

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Italica Military District
Earlier that day...

The noise outside her cell was as clear a signal as she would ever get: the prisoner transfer was today. Doors were being opened and closed, guard speaking in German and Russian leisurely commented on the latest news, and there was even a complaint about a reporter trying to get into the building. She had also not heard of Oberleutnant Erika Fehring for a couple days now, so her attention was bound to be somewhere else.

It was now or never.

Absently, almost lazily, she knocked on her cell's door until one of the guards answered.

"Restroom. Please," she muttered with a weak voice.

"Tch, whatever. Let's go." He further opened the door to allow he out, and she did so as meekly as possible.

"Oi, what's up?"

"Lady spy here needs the restroom, apparently. Help me make sure she's up to no shenanigans."

"You really love that word, don't you?"

"Have to take what the Amis teach us to good heart."

"Sure, sure, whatever."

The female guard turned around to lead the way, with the male guard behind her. The restroom was not in the same area of the cells (she was confident the native prisoners were only allowed to relieve themselves when left out for sunlight), so they had to bring her out into the main building. In the way, Risa managed to spot the preparations for the prisoner transfer to Alnus: a convoy of several trucks and some armoured personnel carriers was being assembled, and by the looks of it, it was a mess of students bossing around people twice their age, with a language barrier in between and no clue of what to do. Given the absolute chaos of the situation, Risa doubted what someone would rise an eyebrow if she ditched her clothes, got something to mask her Asian features, and got into one of the trucks. She could always play the part of a report that wanted a first-hand experience in prisoner management and lost her ID in the confusion anyway.

They reached the restroom soon after, and Risa was left to her own devices inside (the female guard seemed to have little care for whatever she did, as long as it didn't take long). Risa checked the sky through the small window: it was sometime in the afternoon, and there weren't many hours of sunlight left. There was ample time, however, to do her move: the guards in Italica always doubled their vigilance after sunset but made it lazier just before it.

It didn't take her long to somewhat fix her appearance and gather herself, leaving the restroom with calm movements. The two guard were noticeably bored, more worried about their flip phones than their prisoner. It was, thus, fairly easy for Risa to suddenly slow down her pace without notice, suddenly making the male guard behind her to take notice at the last second and brace himself for impact.

An impact that never came.

With expert movements, the PSIA agent quickly turned around on herself and delivered a strong surprise kick to the side of his head, knocking him out in a single blow, with the Japanese woman quickly grabbing his side gun just in time to point it at the female guard, who had just turned around at the noise. The German girl's brain took a few full seconds to register the scene, enough for Risa to remove the safety and point the gun square at her chest.

"Your rifle. On the wall, now."

Hate flared on the teenager soldier eyes, yet she obeyed after a short moment, biting the inside of her cheek. Risa was in no illusion that her time window was short and closing in fast, so she had to be efficient. After disarming the girl of her side weapon as well, she held the cannon of the pistol against her forehead.

"When does the convoy leaves for Alnus?"

"You won't get away with this-"

"I said, when?"

Once again, the girl bit her cheek, bloodshot eyes aiming daggers at her sudden captor.

"Could be anytime in the next hour. Prisoners from Lancia made a mess on Laundraff's planning."

"How long will it take for the convoy to reach Alnus?"

"..."

"Time's ticking, honey."

"...maybe five hours. Perhaps four."

"Good."

She dropped the pistol from the soldier's forehead, only to make sure the safety was on and smack her in the head with it. She was careful to hit the area with the lesser chance of provoking permanent damage. Looking around, she made her way to a side exit and made a run for it towards the heliport near the border of the military district.

She had timed events during the last few days. It wasn't long until the afternoon helicopter ride to Alnus departed, carrying back journalist and the occasional big shot of the academies. The questions for the soldier girl gave her a nice alibi: once they discovered her escape, the first people they would interrogate would be the two lazy guards, and the logical conclusion would be to investigate the messy convoy. With any luck, it would already be on its way to Alnus, and only arrive after nightfall. Until they could clear the convoy of her presence, she had several hours to make her move.

She found the helicopter parked in the heliport; a guard so lax that it would've made her more paranoid if there wasn't any in sight. She made haste for it and managed to smuggle herself on the back of the cockpit. She made a mental note on sending a memo regarding security procedures of the academic coalition in Italica: that they were in a military district was no excuse for such a sorry show of security. In less than half an hour, the pilots of the machine and their passengers arrived and boarded, and Risa found herself on her way to Alnus in less than an hour after she left her cell for the "restroom". All in all, a good escape.

Once the helicopter reached cruise altitude, she massaged her shoulders and sighed: she had escaped Italica.

XXXXXXXXX

Alnus Military Base

Security in Alnus was much tighter than in Italica, and for good reason: not only was the main base of operations and logistics node of the Academic Coalition, but also where most of the press and non-academic personnel were located, asking around for news or inspecting the "applied lesson" subjected to the teenager military students. Finally, it was also where most prisoners of war ended for screening before being sent over to Europe, over to proper facilities and people who actually knew how to deal with them.

All this security didn't mean, however, that it was foolproof: it didn't take long for Risa to find an escape from her helicopter into the shadows that littered the base after nightfall, exploiting obvious weaknesses of the perimeter. She didn't know whether said issues had been detected and left over or were unintended flaws: the only worry at that point in the base were journalists and the occasional curious, but it wasn't like there was secret stuff. Local spies weren't a concern either: between the technological and language barriers, they were bound to be discovered early on and sent to a military police station.

She ducked to avoid detection by a patrol of said MPs as she made her way into the "residential aera" of the base, a nickname given by the press and some teenagers to the patch of ground with the prefab barracks for the students. Security was laxer there for Earthlings, and it was not uncommon for people of various nationalities to wander there, so Risa could take it easy and walk and if nothing had happened. In fact, besides a couple glances thrown over in her direction thanks to the state of her clothes (which may have thrown some male students off in the wrong direction), she was positive none of the guards had bothered to pay her any mind.

A quick and subtle asking around revealed that not only was the convoy from Italica not in Alnus yet, but that barely anyone knew about it, at least in the residential area. Risa was positive that people working in the night shift knew of it, at least, and they would surely be notified of her escape and inspect the entire convoy as it arrived. But for now, and in that area, she was safe to move as she pleased.

Risa arrived at the Japanese section of the dorms in a few minutes, subtly noting the change in atmosphere compared to the European barracks. She had heard that after the Anzio girls arrived, who had proper if limited military formation, they were tasked with the management and security of said section of the dorms to free up European students tied up there. Security standards immediately dropped down considerable, something expected given the "civilian" nature of the schoolgirls, but it was a fact that no incident had happened since, and they were holding up their side of the bargain.

It was also reported that "fun nights" with Europeans increased as well, but Command was not about to crack down on teenagers having fun when there were more pressing matters to care about, barely bothering itself with demanding discretion. It was because of this relaxation in safety that she didn't have trouble finding an open window to sneak into the building used by girls of the Japanese schools with fewer students present in Alnus, such as Saunders University High School. From there, it was a fairly straightforward task of finding Kay and dragging her into an empty room without questions away from others' gazes.

"I'm sorry, who are you?" Managed to mutter the Japanese-American blonde, a confused raised eyebrow on her face. "I take it you are a fan, then? I'm not really against doing this with other women, but try and read the atmosphere first, yes ma'am? There's a time and place to do this stuff-"

Rise almost sighed. She really wanted to think this "easiness" was just an oddity and not the norm among Japanese high school students.

"Listen," her tone of voice made it clear she wasn't in for jokes, and she hoped Kay would catch that. "I need you to do me a favour."

It was clear as day (even if they were at night) that Kay only half-believed the seriousness of the situation. Perhaps she even thought this was some sort of role-play? Risa certainly didn't keep up with the latest trends among youth these days.

"... who are you, then?"

"Risa Tsukamoto, PSIA." The agent took her ID, her true ID that is, from inside her cleavage, where she hid it a few days ago. She thanked that the day she was detained there were only male soldiers in duty, which refused to search her there, most likely out of pudor. "I will tell you what I can, but it's important that you take me to wherever foreign reporters meet in Alnus. Preferably a tavern or something like that. I don't have much time, so let's move quickly."

"S-sure, follow me. I know a couple places."

After making sure there weren't any active patrols in sight, Kay led the intelligence officer down the roads and streets of Alnus as they made their way into the small recently stablished Alnus Town. It was a proper town by modern standards, but rather an initiative born out of cooperation and mutual understanding between the students, refugees, and journalist and other non-academic personnel, who often strived for entertainment and services. Among these, restaurant and pubs serving non-alcoholic (and alcoholic, if one knew who to ask) were common, as student enjoyed the chance of bartering and paying the locals with useless tools and toys which they valued (together with European money, which was limited to some European-operated business).

"Can you tell me what's going on now?" Kay asked after a while, holding her hand up for Risa. A patrol of two boys in brownish uniforms of the UK walked past them in the lights of the street, completely missing the two women in the shadows of the alley. "I don't know if I ever should be involved in something with this much secrecy."

"Don't worry, you will be rewarded for your cooperation." Risa inspected both sides of the street before nodding, prompting Kay to move along with her. "To keep it short, I saw something in Italica that the members of the Vanguard Regiment didn't want me to, so now they're after my head. Apparently, news of my arrest hasn't made it here if I can walk somewhat in the open without issue, but it's still too risky to act on my own. Thus, I have to contact some of my colleagues."

"Why not make a run for it towards the GATE? You'll be safe on the other side, right?"

"The guards at the GATE may already know. Command only lets those they absolutely trust in there, and one can't really diminish the political pull those in the Vanguard Regiment have." Risa sighed, rubbing the bridge of her nose. "Between the Kaliningrad veterans and the high officiality of the British Royal Guards, plus the only reliable Japanese unit so far, they can get along with almost anything if Command doesn't openly oppose it."

"The Vanguard Regiment...? Does this have to do with Miho?!"

"As far as I know, the Nishizumi sisters aren't involved in this whole affair. They're simply following orders, as the European folk likes to say." They turned a corner, happily finding out there weren't any patrols on sight. "Fortunately, or unfortunately depending on your point of view, they aren't on the level of making the large plans, so they lack any awareness of the mess they're getting into."

"That's good to know. At least they're safe... somehow." Kay nodded, pointing at their first stop a couple streets further. "You said you were pressed for time. Why?"

"They most likely think I mingled myself with the prisoners of the convoy coming from Italica today. They don't know I smuggled myself in the Saunders helicopter that departed earlier." Risa rolled her eyes at the self-important grin from Kay, though it was true that she was the one responsible for the entire air logistics system of the Academic Coalition. "There's not much time left until the convoy arrives. From then on, it's a matter of time for them to realize I'm not there."

"What happens then?"

"Parallel searches in both Alnus and Italica, most likely. If anyone has any brains left over there, they will inspect the aircraft and deduce I used it to move here."

"I don't think they're stupid enough to discard the helicopter, right?"

"The brightest are all on the field or in Central Command right now. Mostly bureaucrats and those pushed out are left to deal things like prisoner management, and believe me, they aren't happy about it. Human resources territory, dear."

"You sound very sure about this..."

"Instruction and practice. Not my first rodeo, as you yanks like to say. They may be proficient in waging war, but they damn sure don't know anything else about other things. Like espionage, for example."

The two arrived at a restaurant, staying by the door as the agent quickly inspected its occupants. She soon shook her head, prompting Kay to lead her to another establishment, this one a tavern by the looks of it, filled to the brim by adults wearing modern-day clothes. Reporters, Kay soon realized. It took Risa a mere seven seconds to find what she searched for.

"Over there, last row at the back, third table from the left. Beige travel clothes, short brown hair to his sides, and a horrible pair of sunglasses. He's also PSIA." Kay had little issue noticing him, at the moment finishing what seemed a beer. "The two with him are also from intelligence: MI6 and CIA."

"That's great, you found the people you were looking for." Kay gave her a thumbs up. "What now?"

"Here, take this." Rise gave Kay her glasses, putting on instead a very similar pair. "Don't worry about your sight, they're fake. Just don't lose them."

"Why?"

"Hidden camera. Makes things easier." Kay tried her new look on the glass of the establishment, nodding to Risa's words. "If something happens to me, hand them over to the guy I just described you."

"Something like what?"

"Let's go."

Kay had to keep her questions for later. Risa dragged Kay a bit of a distance away before ordering her to enter the tavern; she was not far behind, coming from the other entrance. The ambience noise was loud, and as many drinks were being drink as cups crashed against each other, snack and food spilled over as the night became livelier by the minute. Kay didn't think it was that late, but then again, the base wasn't exactly run considering usual Earth time.

Halfway through her way to the appointed table, Kay noticed two young people enter the tavern. This wouldn't have been weird by itself, it was full of teenagers and young adults after all, but the fact that they were in full uniform, carrying weapons, and came in by a side entrance made her think twice about them. Instinctively, she took a step back, mingling with the people over the counter.

Risa didn't have such luck, or perhaps she was their objective from the beginning. As she raised her gaze, she noticed a boy and a girl in neat grey –not feldgrau– uniforms standing in her way, weapons in hand and cold eye in their stare.

With them in the main hallway, Kay could recognize them now: Kampfgruppe Model, the student PMC contracted by the EU to keep tabs on the Academic Coalition. She had yet to see them out of Alnus, though she heard of their deployment not long ago in the Italica sector.

"Miss Tsukamoto?" While a question, the agent couldn't think of it but as a statement. "You are under arrest for the leaking of sensitive documents and damage of public property. Please come with us, and don't dare to bloody run."

"Are you British by any chance, sergeant?"

"Don't play games. Get moving."

Each grabbed Risa by an arm and escorted her out of the tavern, barely anyone noticing among the noise and the newly found music cheering the clients. Kay waited a few more seconds before leaving the counter, skilfully making her war through crowded tables and drunkards, before letting herself drop on an empty seat at the table of the "reporters" Risa pointed earlier.

None suspected a thing, a flashy confident smile melting away any opposition from them. They were a young bunch, that's for sure, and Kay had more than confidence in her appearance and personality, so mingling with them was as easy as it was replacing a Sherman in her school. After a few minutes of amicable chat, however, as she noted that the waitress would not be returning in a while, she dropped the jovial tone and asked in a barely audible voice:

"So... I heard you guys are the foreign agents?"

An audible gulp was heard. It was from Risa's partner. The other two said nothing, their gazes sharpening. "Jackpot," thought Kay, as she crossed her arms and assumed a confident posture.

The whole atmosphere in the table changed, and Kay was now in charge.

.

XXXXXXXXX

.

Rondel city-state, Rondel Valley
D-Day +57

Lelei La Lelena was expectant, to say the least.

Despite the size of the city, Rondel was a tight-knit community most of the time, at least in everything aside from academic research. That meant that information, once said openly, travelled far and fast, be it either certified data or mere rumours.

Especially rumours.

Thus, she wasn't all that surprised her sister, Arpeggio La Lelena, arrived from the local market that morning with the newest batch of rumours in town. People loved gossiping, and the market just so happened to be a place where they were used as an informal aid to barter. Information had a prize, and in a city prized by its amount of information and uses of it, that prize was a hefty one. Even for personal information, which was nowhere to be found in academic publications.

However, today was different. Arpeggio went over the topics she heard about in the market stalls while putting away the groceries, from time to time triggering a small comment from their teacher, Mimoza La Mer, back on the library of the house. As far as Lelei knew, she was simply editing an old work of hers to republish it with more update experimental data, a common practice to obtain easy money for renowned mages. Lelei didn't care, she was simply nodding along Arpeggio's comments while eating her breakfast, half-listening as she wondered what book she would read today.

That is, until some of her sister's words caught her attention.

"... anyway, that's for that harlot's extramarital affairs. At least she finally got published, and it only cost her marriage." Arpeggio shrugged, putting away some grains. "Talking about her husband, you know his lab is currently on a field expedition, right? Well, they left a couple days ago, and while they haven't come back yet, they're already providing rumours for the city."

"Ara?" Mimoza's voice rang from the contiguous studio, clearly amused but only giving marginal attention. "What is it?"

"They sent a rider back yesterday with the day's findings, and among the regular stuff you'll expect from the first days of an expedition, they also mentioned a weird group of teenagers. Apparently, they suddenly appeared in the road asking for directions to Rondel, all wearing the same clothes, apparently their uniform. They had a weird handheld gadget that made a lot of noise, barely spoke the language to a decent level, and claimed to come from down south."

"Down south?" Interrupted Mimoza, still in her studio. Lelei held her breath, refraining from uttering a word yet. "How south? Last I heard, the imperial army was still blockading Alnus, and I have yet to meet someone who refers to Italica simply as 'south'. Are they perhaps from a smaller town? Ligs, for example?"

"Why Ligs, Elder?"

"Well, they have that imperial road guard post, don't they? And a sizable garrison as well. It's a fairly large town and is guarded enough for a well-off academy to take root. It doesn't take much to know that if a bandit gang took over the town and blocked access to the bridge, they could ask for much money as ramson or impose heavy tariffs that merchants would pay for anyway, considering there's not a similar bridge for many days of walking."

"But wait, it gets even more weird than that. After getting the references to get here, they went back to a large group with different uniforms, all teenagers, and waited until the research expedition 'went away' before proceeding in strange carriages. Since they aren't already here, then they probably camped for the night somewhere on the vicinity."

"My, oh my. This does indeed sound quite exotic." Mimoza finally appeared through the door, her elderly features becoming quite visible thanks to the daylight coming from the open kitchen windows. "I wonder if they'll visit us today."

"That if the rumours are true." Arpeggio dismissed it with a wave of her right hand, using the left to push some jars in the pantry. "I mean, think about it, Elder. What is a group of teenagers doing around here without adults? And if they truly are full uniformed, then what does that mean? They should have some kind of patron to afford that, right? Or at least be from rich families."

"At least we know they aren't from the Empire, or at least, not their military forces." Mimoza walked over to a seat in the kitchen's table, barely avoiding tripping over the baskets used by Arpeggio earlier in a clumsy step. "The Empire would never allow their men to go around without weapons and armour."

"How are you so sure?"

"They are drilled for it since they join the army. If not on them, they carry it at hands reach. It's second nature for them, even when impractical."

"Well, that answers why they have never been able to successfully infiltrate Rondel, does it..."

"That and other things. Oh my, that bread looks wonderful!"

"Excuse me."

"Careful with your legs, Lily."

"My name is Lelei, Elder."

"Sure, take care~"

Lelei thanked Mimoza quietly and stepped out of the kitchen, going back to her room. She managed to keep her face stoic during the exchange, but her mind was already bursting with theories and ideas, all leading to a single conclusion:

The Academic Coalition was coming to Rondel. Why, she didn't know, but it wasn't difficult to see that it had to do with magic. That, or knowledge: Rondel had both of those in abundance, and from what she had seen while getting medical attention in Alnus, these otherworlders had no magic at all, or at least, was a concept so obscure from them that it was the same as not having it. Lelei had her own theories as to why that might be, but for now, she had other things to care for.

Namely, receiving the column, pray it had familiar people, and make their contact with Rondel as peaceful as it could be. She had seen what a "small rag-tag group" (whatever that meant) of them could do back in Coda, when a dozen teenagers contained a hundred bandits before reinforcements arrive. And what reinforcements those were: horseless chariots spitting fire and lead at high velocities quickly turned any resistance futile, and those trying to escape were hunted from the heights by the same chariots standing guard up above.

Lelei massaged her legs a bit. She had been making good progress since the horses made a number on her, thanks to a mix of magic, mostly Mimoza's, Cato's, and hers, and the otherworlders medical technology and knowledge, but she still had sharps pains from time to time and difficulties walking long distances. Still, she was in far better shape compared to her accident, more than a month ago, and that was enough.

She guessed she should've told Mimoza everything on the otherworlders. She wondered why she hadn't yet. Not even her sister knew the details of her accident: she had told them both dismissively, when Lelei arrived but a few days ago, that she had been rescued by unknown foreigners that aided in her treatment and in communicating with her teacher Cato El Alestan. Then after staying in Coda to recover for a few weeks to recover strength, she went back to Rondel, hoping to get better treatment for her phantom pains in the city of magic and knowledge. That led her to today, slowly making her way towards the city's easternmost entrance.

Despite her injured legs, she had little trouble getting to the city gates. Most inhabitants and visitors of Rondel were friendly and more than happy to lend a hand to a young girl in need. Thus, book in hand, she had settled herself in one of the few guard towers of the city's outside perimeter, opting to pass the time reading and throw glances down the road every so often.

Her efforts paid off a little under two hours before noon. A bright spot appeared on the road, quickly moving forward towards the gate. It was an oddity to have something that shined so bright moving so quickly: for most, that only things that could cause such a reflection of sunlight were either mirrors or metals, none of which could move at that speed.

Lelei, however, knew better. She went towards the entrance, standing on the sidelines of the road, and it wasn't long for her eyes to be greeted by the sight of a few small horseless chariots painted in beige and gray. Lelei walked into the road as they approached, hoping for a familiar sight in the meantime. Her prayers were answered soon, as she recognized a face in the third, and final, vehicle of the column.

"Hey there, miss! Careful where you are walking!" Came the warning of one of them, talking the common tongue with a very heavy accent. It was the driver of the first vehicle, a horseless open chariot without ceiling. Lelei walked towards him, trying her best to appear non-confrontational. By the looks of it, it seemed to be working.

"I'm here to help you." She told him. The driver, a boy probably her age, appeared lost at her comment. He probably wasn't expecting anything of the sort. But she had the upper hand here: while Rondel was welcoming of foreigners from all corners of the world, that was providing your motives with the city were useful for it and that you could prove it so as well. The few guards of the city took their duty to inspect newcomers very thoroughly, and Lelei doubted their weapons and gear could pass the inspection without revealing who they were and what they were capable of.

The later requirement, however, was way laxer if you came in with a local. That was her offer, and as such explained it to the driver. While she watched him nod along her explanation, she could see he was still at a loss on what to do.

That was when people from the other two vehicles appeared, apparently annoyed at the delay. Luckily for her, among them was the familiar face.

"Unterfeldwebel Roth," she greeted him with a nod. It took him a few seconds, but the black-haired soldier opened his eyes once he finally recognized her. "It's been a while."

"It has been, miss La Lelena." He nodded back, slightly raising his helmet over his head as a greeting sign. "Though it's feldwebel now."

"What changed?"

"I got promoted."

"That's nice to hear."

"Roth, a word." Lelei heard one of them, who appeared to be their superior officer, drag Roth away in their native tongue. A brief order went around, and the convoy moved their chariots to the side of the road, allowing traffic to move freely once again. It was mid-movement that Roth returned with his boss.

"Sorry for the delay, miss La Lelena." She nodded, understanding. "This is Major Schmidt, the leader of our column. I have updated him on our relationship, and he wants to speak with you."

"I understand." Lelei turned to the blonde officer, dressed similarly to his men, but the clothes were of higher quality, he had a few more decorations, and definitely nicer boots. He also had a small plated hat instead of a metal helmet. From that fact and what she had seen as their fighting style, she reasoned he probably wasn't a frontline commander. "I'm Lelei La Lelena, a magic student. A pleasure to meet you."

"Likewise, miss La Lelena." The major did a similar movement as Roth, slightly raising his hat as a greeting gesture. "What brings you here to meet us?"

He spoke in the formal common tongue, with a slight accent but overall respecting the correct intonation. He was talking too much by the book, however, and his accent was not one she could point to a nearby place. Nothing wrong with that, as a general thing, but it was a clear indicator on the fact he was not only a foreigner, but that he also didn't come from the central areas of the Empire. Elange knows there hasn't been another language spoken in the area surrounding the imperial capital for decades now.

"I heard the rumours about your column and thought I would aid you in Rondel, as a sort of repayment for your help when I was injured."

"You already paid us with your information on Rondel and magic," replied Roth, but was cut over by his superior.

"Much appreciated, miss La Lelena. As you can see, we have three chariots here with us. We had the intention of visiting the city and speaking with some of its leaders, however difficult that might be considering the rumours of disorganization we heard along the way."

Were they gauging Rondel's stance on the war, perhaps? They were far fewer men than they were in Coda, but for what she knew, there could be more outside the city in some encampment. As powerful as they might be, she was under no illusion that they could break through the imperial garrisons in Ligs and Clunia with the barely three dozen men there appeared to be in the column.

"I have contact with one of the city's elders, who oversee the magical research district. They are the leaders of the city for all non-monetary purposes."

"Could you take us to meet them?"

"Of course. I will need, however, that you help me so I can get you in without the guard opening everything."

"Much appreciated."

If they kept anything to themselves, which Lelei was sure that happened, she didn't notice it, and not half an hour later the three vehicles were making their way through the crowed streets of Rondel towards Lelei's residence. As their guide and local contact, Lelei was placed in the head vehicle together with Roth and Schmidt, the two taking turns to ask her about the city while they advanced.

"There's enough clothe freaks here to put those designers in Paris to shame," Lelei heard Roth say. She knew it was on their native tongue, but the meaning was lost to her.

"Sounds like they're cut from the same fabric," Schmidt replied, taking notes in a small notebook. "Miss La Lelena..."

"Lelei is fine, major."

"Thanks. Is everyone in this city a mage, Lelei?"

"No, far from it. Mages make a large number and manage most of the city, but outside the research district, it's mostly regular people that work and live here."

"Are mages the ones with the robes and staffs?"

"Yes. Most mages in the city wear robes, as it is an official uniform of sorts of the research district. It signals you are involved in the magic education system."

"I see some with a patch on their robes. What is that?" Asked Roth, interrupting Schmidt.

"They take care of duels between mages. Their role is that those don't escalate too much. They can turn very destructive very quickly."

"So, they're like a police force? I mean, a guard?"

Lelei shook her head. She took the chance to tell some bystanders to move aside so the column could continue its advance. She guessed they were impressed at how the chariots moved without horses, yet she held no desire to stop their way just to explain information she knew the otherworlders preferred to keep private.

"Rondel lacks what you could call a military force. These are volunteers involved in preserving the city infrastructure from magic duels."

"Is that so?"

"The only permanent force of sorts is the watch on the city walls, but their role is more on side of tariffs and commerce. Rondel citizens tend to solve issues with criminals on their own."

"Does that mean there's no courts here?"

"We have some but are all citizen-run."

Schmidt noted something on his notebook. Whatever it was, Lelei couldn't read it.

"What does Rondel do when the Empire's military comes?"

"I heard there's some sort of magic militia formed, but I'm not sure. It's been decades since the last engagement between the two."

"And I doubt the Empire has the spare manpower to try it anytime soon," joked Roth, earning a side glance from Schmidt.

"It's been a while since I heard of a city that worked like that." The major nodded and noted something else on his notebook. "Still, we have a job to do. How much further for your contact?"

"At this rhythm, a few more minutes."

"Good." He turned around and spoke in a low voice with Roth in their native language. Lelei try to hear, but realized soon that she wouldn't understand even if she did. Thus, she focused on the road and giving instructions to the driver. She only hoped the sudden arrival of the otherworlders didn't make a fuss in her home.

She knew how Arpeggio behaved when young men appeared near her. She was praying her sister was out for the day.

.

XXXXXXXXXX

.

D-Day +58

It was in the mid-morning when the meeting between the foreign (otherworldly, Lelei reminded herself) students and the wise "Elders of Rondel" (a popular name to the chagrin of a sizable portion of the group, which was far from being old by most standards). As the official contact between the unknown teenagers and the magic city, Mimoza La Mer took the honour of mediating the instance, aiding with her knowledge of languages what otherwise would've probably been a very awkward meeting thanks to several deficiencies in the visitors' language skills.

If their clothes weren't enough of a signal, then the way they spoke was clear-cut evidence of their nature as people from far away. If only they knew, though Lelei as she heard the word exchange thanks to the echo that transmitted them above for the visitors sitting on the upper part of the closed amphitheatre.

It was as close as she would get, as she was no longer a permanent resident of the city since she left to study under Cato's tutelage.

Lelei was also surprised, both pleasantly and not.

She had followed the group after they left the previous day (in which, she had to admit, she was glad Arpeggio went out for most of the day, missing the young soldiers visit by mere minutes according to Mimoza), finding out the huge camp they had established not far away from Rondel. While they were far enough to not get stumbled upon by chance, and the guards and barbed wire around it made sure no unwanted visitor would go undetected for long, it was also a distance even she could cover despite her pained legs.

On the flip side, she spotted the rest of the group that aided her in Coda, as Roth had told her. She saw the Nishizumi sisters, Petrakov, and the rest of the grey-uniformed team from back then, lost in a sea of unknown people that easily reached the hundreds.

That was bad news for Rondel.

Lelei was no fool. She knew magic was powerful, yet a mage was still no super-human. She could only break the laws of physics so far without proper knowledge, knowledge she was sure the otherworlders had one way or another. Otherwise, how would they have such powerful machines without any magic involved? That led her back to the origin of her worries: if half a dozen of these teenagers could keep at bay a hundred bandits that attacked almost by surprise, as she had seen during the Coda raid, what could a full war party of them make? It took barely a couple of their war chariots to completely wipe out the bandits and send them running. What could dozens of them do?

That left her restless. She failed to reach the camp to speak with Miho, the leader the last time she saw them, and today Roth was nowhere to be found. In fact, Lelei found out, the group that came to interview with the Elders of Rondel was made almost completely out of war chiefs –officers, as she knew they called themselves. She knew Roth, despite his recent promotion, was still only a small chief and was far from the rank of these other leaders of the group, who likely all had seniority over him one way or the other.

Well, besides the drivers and protection detail, of course, but somehow none of the elders seemed to realize they were a detachment of soldiers. As far as they knew, they were junior students that came to learn from their seniors' discussion with the locals.

That was the last, and major, surprise for Lelei: the group had, for all intents and purposes, presented itself as one made of students. It was technically correct since, as far as Lelei knew, they were war students, but the omission of the key first word made a lifetime of difference. Thus, the uniformed teenagers talking downstairs with the elders of the most scientifically city in Falmart were seen, by all except the most astute ones, as "poor children who avoided all peril in their field trip to the city of knowledge and magic."

How that was believable was beyond Lelei's scope of thought. Perhaps there was something wrong with Rondel's mentality after all, as so many imperial scholars had cited as their reason to not deal with the city. Then again, imperial magical scholars were often those who either fell in disgrace with Rondel or tried to make a quick career in their armed forces, thus making the city keen on returning the favour regarding treatment.

It was shortly before noon when Lelei decided she had heard enough. Nothing of it was of a value such that hearing it later would affect her, so she took her staff and walked out of the building before the lunch break was announced and the halls filled themselves with people making a run-for-it to grab the best options for a meal in the neighbourhood. Her feet carried her over to a bench near the main plaza of the research district, where she sat to let her tired legs rest for a while under the pleasant shadow of a tree. Autumm was coming, and temperatures had dropped from the summer heat to a pleasant level.

"Enjoying ourselves, are we?" She heard a voice scoff at her. The blue-haired opened an eye, spotting the annoyed face of her sister above. "While I had to run errands all morning to earn money for my research, you were here listening to the talks between all the big fish. You even kept me from taking a look at them yesterday! What if there was a good man? I had to take my chances!"

"They may be a little too young for you, sis." Lelei replied half-heartedly. "And inside there's nothing worth worrying over, at least in regard to your research."

There might have been something that benefited Arpeggio's magical rocks research, but she was certain the war students weren't going to divulge the secret of their strength at this stage. Maybe never.

"Suit yourself. I'm going in to check it myself."

"Lunch break starts in a few minutes. Look." Lelei pointed at the clock at the centre of the plaza. Truly, there were probably barely a meek three minutes left until noon. "You'll go against the sea of people."

"Tch." Arpeggio made a shot disgusted face before sighing loudly, letting herself fall to the grass and taking a seat next to her younger sibling. "I arrived late after all."

"You didn't miss anything of importance," repeated Lelei, closing her eyes again. "They talked about the perils of their journey here and explained the purpose of their visit."

"The usual?"

"Yes, in general terms."

"Aaahhh, just another group of scholars in peregrination to the holy land of research~"

Arpeggio fell flat on her back on the grass, stretching her limbs before a satisfied sigh left her lips. At least that's what Lelei thought she did. She wasn't looking after all. The two sisters rest for a while under the shadow of the tree, happy to let the people around carry on with their day for a while.

"So..." Arpeggio began after a few minutes. "You knew them from before?"

"Sort of." Lelei replied without opening her eyes. "I met a few of them in Coda. None of the ones here today, though."

"Then, how did you...?"

"Yesterday's group was different. One of its members was the second or third in charge of the party that visited Coda village. They were the foreigners that aided me with my legs after the horse ran over me."

"I see." Arpeggio said nothing else for a while. "It was brave of them. I mean, visiting a village that was just raided..."

"They had nothing to fear," Lelei reassured her, opening her eyes and staring at the sky. The deep blue reflected in her light blue pupils as she lost herself in thought. "After all, they were the ones that kicked out the bandits."

Arpeggio once again said nothing. It was only after half a minute passed that Lelei glanced at her, noting the shocked face on her features. Perhaps she had phrased it wrong?

"I meant; they were the ones that-"

"I know what you meant!" Fortunately, being noon by now, the plaza was full of busy people and Arpeggio's shout went unnoticed. "But, how?! What do you mean they were the ones to fend off the bandits?! You are telling me that aside from adventurous students, they also know how to fight?!"

"More than that, I'm afraid." She let her words on the air a tiny bit, thinking how to phrase the next bombshell of information she was about to drop on her sister. "They... when they say they are students, that's only half the truth."

"...those teenagers?" Arpeggio's face was now mixing to equal parts mistrust and anticipation. It was clear that she was only hearing Lelei because she was her sister, and thus knew she wasn't one to lie. "Explain."

"They are war students, to say it simply." Lelei extended her arm to the side, reaching her staff and muttering a short incantation. Short forms of earth soon formed beneath her, at the feet of the bench. "And while it's true they are foreigners, they aren't from Falmart."

"Stop talking in riddles-"

"They come from another world." Lelei finally revealed, her concentration focused on making the shapes of earth as close as she could to the initial disposition of the raid in Coda as she could from memory. "Remember the portal gate in Alnus, the one the Elder Mimoza has been researching for years?" Arpeggio nodded, her eyes opening wide as she started connecting the dots. "They come from there. They established a full base some two full moons ago, perhaps three or four."

"That's rubbish. The imperial army controls that area!"

"Not anymore." The disposition of the earth dolls reached a positioning she was satisfied with, so she held them in place for now. "I'm not privy of the details, but I know they have been in Alnus for a while now. They battled a relief column of the imperial army not long ago, maybe a full moon. Haven't you wondered why Italica suddenly went uncommunicated for days and why the Empire suddenly started moving forces around?"

"I-I thought it was because of Rondel?"

"Tensions are high, but not to that point." Lelei shook her head. "If they're here, they did one of two things: they avoided all imperial forces in the way or battled all of them to clear the way."

"T-there's no way... I mean, they're only teenagers! I'm older than all of their leaders, let alone the rest!"

"Yet they wield enormous power" She pointed at the figures under her. "I will show you, how a few fought off the bandits in Coda."

Thus, Lelei showed Arpeggio a representation of the combat in Coda. To say Arpeggio was shocked would be an understatement: what Lelei was saying could easily contradict all the little military logic she knew. Yet Lelei spoke with such confidence, using her usual matter-of-factly tone, that she was inclined to believe her... even if only for now.

"...and that's it."

"...impressive..."

"They also appeared to know of medicine, at least the ones at their base. Maybe it's because they lack magic, but their dominion of science appears to be better than ours."

"A world without magic? Sounds impossible."

"Yet it looks like the truth." Lelei nodded, dispelling the earth figures, their purpose fulfilled. "Magic seems to be a completely alien concept to them, as least as far as these war students are concerned. If it exists, it's a very isolated or privy community."

"That seems more believable. I mean, Rondel is a very open city, but even then, it's not easy to find a magic practitioner outside its independent boundaries, sans the imperial capital. But if it was a closed society? I doubt many would know of magic as more than the tool in fairy tales."

"But there's one thing I don't know yet."

"What is it? You seem to know it all already, even for a bratty genius."

As usual, Arpeggio couldn't pass the chance to called Lelei some name for her perceived brain. Hard habits die hard, the younger guessed.

"What are they doing in Rondel?"

"Isn't it obvious? They are checking the better city in all of Falmart."

"Yes, but why now?" Lelei took her legs closer to her, rubbing them. A small phantom pain was starting, but not one that would be an impediment to movement or speaking. "Why not wait until the war with the Empire is over?"

"Wars with the Empire tend to last long, even if they begin one-sided." The brunette reasoned, hand at her chin as her thoughts wandered. "Perhaps they're searching for allies?"

"They don't seem to need them." Or at least, from what Lelei had seen, they didn't seem particularly worried about obtaining them. "They also have all the maps they need from Italica."

"Then there's only one reason."

""Magic"" they both said in unison.

"Are they worried Rondel will join with the Empire to kick them out?"

"Maybe. They likely knew nothing of Rondel until they came here."

"But, at least to me and from what you tell me, this doesn't seem like a diplomatic mission at all." Arpeggio was right on the money: a diplomatic party didn't need hundreds of armed men, or at least, didn't need to hide them. Quite the contrary, in fact. "So, they may be for something else, right?"

"Yes." Lelei stared at the earth again. What could the otherworlders want with Rondel? "Another possibility is that they want to study the magic. Maybe see if they can learn it quickly, or if the Empire has it."

"They do, don't they?"

"Battle mages. But they're only mobilized in case of emergency."

"Can I assume there isn't one?"

"Not that we know of. This could've changed since the fall of Italica. It's been a few weeks since then."

Silence was made between the two. They stayed like that for a while.

"Should we go to get some lunch? We can continue with the topic later."

"Agreed."

.

XXXXXXXXXX

.

D-Day +59

As predicted by many, the meetings extended all the way to the night and then the following day, including an open exhibition of the foreign students' "horseless chariots" in one of the main plazas of the research district. Despite Arpeggio's excited comments, it took a simple glance for Lelei to realize those were perhaps the smallest the war students had at their disposal: enough space for three or four people, short in height and not that large compared to a regular chariot (on the smaller side, actually).

Despite the probably marvellous engineering in them, of which the otherworlders said nothing concrete about, many were quick to point out those were vehicles for utilitarian purposes. This was confirmed by the students, who pointed the same reasoning behind the concept of the larger –yet still simpler compared to other machines Lelei had seen of them– truck, a simple chariot made for the purpose of ferrying things and people from one place to another. This made some scholars loose interest quickly: without the signs of opulence and importance, the lack of which was something to be expected from mere students, there was little to do regarding the possibility of selling them. It wasn't unheard of mages that stayed in Rondel to get some innovation and make quick money, and those usually catered to nobility. A utilitarian design, as effective as it may be, was definitely not in the imperial nobility's interest.

"Chariot" exposition aside, some of the students exchange knowledge on medicine with the local elders which specialized in it. It was a small thing, but Lelei appreciated that many medicine practices in Rondel were, within their understanding, not far of the otherworlders practices, albeit she suspected some were toned down to keep their advantage over the locals (also because explaining more required them to reveal the science behind it, which, as some glares around hinted, was not something they had much knowledge over either. They likely used medicine manuals instead of having full doctors on board).

Further expositions and talks were agreed upon together with promises of meeting again as the foreign students left for their encampment in the outskirts of Rondel, once again making sure they weren't followed by any curious person after their (shorter than last day) visit. They were bound to get one or two, but Lelei had little doubt they would be scared away (or cuffed and knocked out) by the camp guard.

The movement of the day made it so that it was already near nightfall when Lelei and Arpeggio finally managed to speak with Mimoza alone. The wise elder was in a constant state of euphoria and annoyance over the event of the day. After all, it wasn't every day that a mysterious group of teenager students made its way to Rondel and schooled the elders on fields they thought had mastery on.

However, as Mimoza sat on the dinner table and found both sisters with serious glances, she couldn't help to push down her emotions for a while in order to hear what both sisters wanted to say with a clear mind, which she did by speaking first as Arpeggio served dinner.

"Why the sudden urge, Lily? It's not usual for you to call me to speak privately with Arpeggio." Mimoza began, raising a hand to stop any comment from the light-blue-haired girl. "I know I haven't exactly paid much attention to you since you arrived back despite your injury, and I want to apologize for that first. Even if those foreigners you presented to me are a gold mine of opportunities, it wasn't kind of me to just ignore you like that. At least for once I say you interact with Arpeggio without fighting after all the years you two fought over."

Lelei could feel Arpeggio's eyes rolling. She chose to not comment on that.

"My name is Lelei, Elder. And I understand, don't worry. As mages, it is our duty to pursue knowledge at all costs." Despite her words, Lelei's face stayed on its blank stare. "In fact, it is about those foreigners I wanted to talk to you about."

"How so?"

"I wanted to tell you about what they did... and what they didn't tell-"

Lelei's words were cut as Arpeggio grabbed her by the back of her head and shove a loaf of bread on her mouth.

"Stop playing the mystery girl and spit it out already!" She bellowed, crossing her arms as her younger sibling munched on the bread. "Just tell the Elder the same you told me, but without the pauses."

Mimoza couldn't help but grin a little: old habits die hard, specially between siblings. This, however, made her even more curious: what was it that Lelei told Arpeggio about the foreign students that had her so worked up?

"Is this about the inconsistencies in their stories?"

"Partly." Lelei used a bit of water to gulp down the rest of the bread, sighing. "They are students... but that's only half the truth. You could call them, more accurately, war students."

"War students?" Mimoza squinted her eyes, suspicion arising from within. "From where?"

"You remember your research about the portal that opens in Alnus every so many years?" Intervened Arpeggio, sitting between the elder and her sibling. Mimoza nodded. "There's your answer. According to Lelei, the portal opened again a while ago, and these war students poured over from there."

"What?"

"And there's way more than that. Lelei, tell her. Elder, you might want to not drink water while we talk."

With a final reassurance nod from her older sibling, Lelei told Mimoza everything, even the parts she kept from her earlier, including her possible conjectures on the objectives of the students in Rondel. She held nothing back: she spoke about her time in Coda with Cato El Alestan, where she saw from the distance how half a dozen of "students" kept a hundred bandits at bay with barely seconds of warning, how large "war horseless chariots of iron" appeared from the trees and smashed any opposition, how they quickly killed the horse that ran over her the next day despite being half a village away, and how they treated her immediately despite her being a nobody.

Lelei then spoke of how she was ferried over to Alnus by air, how she was treated by the medics there, how she and Cato paid for the help with knowledge on Rondel, and how the concept of magic seemed to be completely ignored as a real thing by all of them, with barely a handful hinting at her using magic once they saw her use it.

Mimoza took everything in with striding calmness, to the surprise of both sisters, however raised her hand after a while to comment on something.

"One thing I don't understand yet is... how? The imperial army controlled Alnus and Italica. I know the imperial army closed off Alnus five months ago, so they couldn't be there for more than that assuming they established their base from the day the portal opened. Are you telling me those kids beat the imperial army at least twice, conquering both Alnus and Italica, despite them just being kids? On that regard, why send war students? Where is their army? How strong it is?"

Lelei had no definitive answer to that and sought solace in her cup of water as she ordered her thoughts.

"I don't have any definitive answer, but from what I've gathered, their armies are much more powerful, crewed by adults." She took another sip of water. "Apparently, the technological difference is so vast that they can afford to send war students here so they can learn the ropes regarding war waging. In general terms, the imperial army isn't a challenge for them."

The three girls remained in silence for a while, each eating their food, deep in thought.

"Are they armed?"

Lelei blinked at Mimoza's sudden question. She recalled the war students she saw during the day.

"Not in Rondel proper. They only took unarmed, unarmoured transports here for exhibition, and they haven't shown any weapon of the ones they used in combat. I think I saw a few very small ones, the size of daggers, which I've heard them call "pistols". As far as I have seen, they aren't meant for combat."

"So, they haven't entered the city with actual war equipment then? Only transport and self-defence?"

"So it seems."

Mimoza held her face on her two joint hands, meditating her options. Arpeggio and Lelei, waiting, decided to go back to eating.

"How many are there? Where are they?"

"They have a camp on a forest clearing to the west, far enough from the main road to now have anyone stumble upon them. There are hundreds of them, at least. There's enough power in that camp to face off the imperial garrison in Bellnahgo."

"Yet they have shown no hostility to this city, nor have they carried their weapons when visiting us. It would be of great peril and bad manners to simply cut contact with them out of nowhere, and there's little chance the elders will believe any of this... in fact, I have trouble wrapping my head around it." Mimoza sighed, returning to her meal. "You said you knew of their leaders?"

"She has some leverage, at least. Miho Nishizumi, at the time the commander of an exploration group."

"And one of the first to believe Lelei when she said she used magic," added Arpeggio, shrugging. "Sounds like our safest bet."

"We'll go to their camp after tomorrow's round of meetings. If we confront them here they will deny everything, so we need to make sure there's no way for them to feign ignorance," determined Mimoza. "Rest well and prepare some camping gear. We may spend the night out tomorrow."

.

XXXXXXXXX

.

Alnus Military Base
D-Day +60

When Eisernes Kreuz Akademie general Schroeder raised his glare towards the opening door of his office, he couldn't help but frown at the sight that his eyes registered. It wasn't long until sunlight appeared over the horizon, which made the sudden appearance of the two blondes in grey –not feldgrau– uniforms all the more suspicious.

He didn't remember doing anything to anger the PMC wandering around Alnus.

"Von Roestel. Raylight." Schroeder greeted both. He knew they likely held ranks in their structure, yet rarely remember which those were. He simply called them "the commander" and "the chief of staff" of the PMC, albeit their nicknames of "the officer" and "the analyst" respectively also followed them around. "I assume this isn't a visit of pleasure."

"Correct, Herr general." Schroeder was not fond of the slight smirk in the other commander's face. Kampfgruppe Model, their PMC, was outside the chain of command, thus leaving the two (and the small yet highly efficient force under them) out of his control.

He didn't like that at all, but there were several things he didn't like as a general rule.

"To what do I own the occasion?"

"I would like you to examine this."

Raylight, thus far partly shielding herself behind von Roestel, shily took a few steps towards Schroeder's desk and left a folded paper, quickly retracing her steps back. Schroeder opened the sheet in question and quickly scanned its contents, nodding slightly at the end. Without uttering a word, he opened a drawer in his desk and took out another sheet of paper with an almost identical text in it.

"You are quick, I'll grant you that. It hasn't even been eight hours."

"We don't want any issues with the academies. Especially when we are dealing with the Vanguard Regiment."

"I can respect that." Schroeder could get behind the motive. He certainly knew the political clout the members of the Vanguard Regiment had, one which was largely obtained during the first months of the Academic Coalition in Falmart and they leveraged for autonomy. "You'll find your endeavours in dismantling Operation Ars Goetia have little opposition from anyone in Alnus. As for Italica, the Vanguard Regiment's HQ, there aren't many there capable of resisting anymore. Mostly second line troops and rear services."

"Where are the others?"

"Deployed and far away from Italica. They won't reach the city even if they go full throttle for an entire day." Schroeder smirked, internally enjoying the feeling of wiping out the confident smirk in von Roestel's face. "Not that I think any of them is enough of a dummkopf to openly oppose you once you get proper permission. After all, you aren't technically arresting them, are you?"

Von Roestel glared with anger at Schroeder, but the general was way too tired and entertained to pay it any mind. Realizing he wasn't going to win against the seated commander of all forces in Falmart, the PMC commander exhaled with force and massaged his nose bridge.

"Correct. We will simply go in and secure all information regarding Operation Ars Goetia. Maybe we'll detain someone, but only if they openly oppose us."

"Perfect. It's always a pleasure doing business with KG Model."

"A-a question, Herr general, if you don't mind..."

"Hm?" Schroeder hadn't actually heard Raylight thus far. He had seen her around, always behind a pile of papers and speaking in a low voice about plans and procedures. It fit her position as chief of staff of the PMC, or at least he guessed so. "Yes, Frau Raylight?"

"Isn't it too convenient all the combat troops of the Vanguard Regiment are so far away? Y-you deployed them all like a week ago, even before our own men reached the city..."

Schroeder found himself smirking at the comment. He nodded slowly and took the chance to stand up and head towards the side window of his office.

"This all steams from Meller's command. In his carelessness, he allowed a powerful force to gain internal power, with a new superior officer that was more than on board with outside influence and ideas. Don't think that just because I allowed this operation to start, I don't know where it came from." Schroeder levelled a glance at the two privateers, his cold eyes sharp despite his tired demeanour. "I'm not going to carry the burden Meller left on this coalition by allowing a sizable unit full of officers who are friends among themselves run amok with an autonomous status under general orders from Alnus. In fact, I think we can do a little more damage to them without ruffling any feathers. Nothing serious, just scaring them a bit."

"What are you thinking, Herr general?" Asked von Roestel, raising an eyebrow and crossing his arms. Behind him, Raylight nodded along, a notepad in one hand and a pen on the other.

"Quite simple, actually." Schroeder stopped on the window, staring at the sleeping base below. "Arrest Laundraff and his staff. Leave a skeleton crew to run the bureaucracy and take the rest under custody for a few days. Make them feel they aren't invincible after all, and how their "powerful allies" are powerless to save them."

"That could potentially give us problems. We lack the power to arrest people-"

"But we aren't arresting them, are we? Only detaining them for openly opposing orders." Schroeder took out another paper, showing the current date but signed by him long ago. A quick glance threw both von Roestel and Raylight a step back: it was an order to fully cooperate with KG Model and hand over everything the Vanguard Regiment had that the PMC requested during their intervention or was related to said asked material.

"We can't detain them with that. There's no way Laundraff will oppose us with that order."

"You are correct. Only if he manages to read it first."

"Orders are only valid if they arrived before the intervention."

"I know Laundraff. He will only read it after his morning routine." Schroeder smirk extended into a full smile, a distant memory surfacing yet soon pushed back down. "He will be released, of course, but you won't get in trouble for it."

"D-did you plan for everything?"

"No, Frau Raylight, I did not. But I really dislike having other people's mistakes drag me down." Schroeder stored the paper back in his pocket, extending his arm to the coffee machine next to him. "Now, care for a cup? It's not one to turn down companionship for my morning coffee."

.

XXXXXXXXXX

.

Kampfgruppe Schmidt camp, outskirts of Rondel
Shortly before sunset...

"My team is positioned to block or take control all the relevant entrances to the city on its walls with a moderate chance of success. Regarding magic, despite our observations, we can't really get a full measure of its potential, especially with high-ranking mages. Most seem only capable of increasing their stamina and physical prowess."

The communication came through the radio at the centre of the command tent, several teenagers around it with clench fists and ever-changing eyes quickly swapping its target focus from the device to the map and vice versa. From time to time some of them checked the features of the group commanders, who kept steel gazes locked at the paper.

"We won't take our chances here. Find the location of their homes or whatever they like to wander at that time and mark them for bombardment. A quick artillery volley could make the work with most of them."

"A word, sir. Same as you noted, there's no militia to speak of, but the watchmen on the walls, albeit not mages and with seemingly no combat skills, have a very capable communications network."

"Even if we can chalk the attack to accidents and bad luck, they'll be able to spot the pattern and tell everyone," commented Boomfield, frowning. The officers around the table, almost all the company leaders of the kampfgruppe, nodded along.

"We have to take them out at the same time," muttered Schmidt, arms crossed as his eyes swept the map once again, "Bravo 4, can you target the ones closer to the network with sniper shots before the attack?"

"Certainly, if you help us with some tank shots as well."

"Not like a couple will be noticed among the explosions," whether the lone comment was sarcasm or an assurance was lost to the command group.

"Consider it done. Anything else to note?"

"The blue-haired mage that we met on the first day left the city with two other women, one elder and one of similar age, about an hour ago. They didn't seem on a rush."

"Direction?"

"Too vague to guess. It's a vast valley."

"Think they're headed here?" Asked one of the captains but was dismissed by a gesture of Grant.

"As if they knew where we are located. Even if they try to find us, they'll bump around in the dark for a while."

"I doubt it's the case," added Louis, imitating Karl in crossing his arms, "if they wanted to find where the camp is, they would go out early to have daylight. At this hour, they're likely heading to a known destination."

"Thus, not here," sentenced Schmidt.

"Any news on air support?"

"Nothing for now. The mountains block all communication with Alnus."

"The first planes should get here tonight to aid in the attack. We'll make radio contact then," informed Boomfield, taking out some notes from his breast pocket, "supposedly, the RAF will provide support, and they should arrive in the next two hours."

"That's all. We'll inform you of any relevant change," Karl said, nodding to his aide Fritz to cut the signal.

"Understood. Bravo 4-Actual out."

Those words were the last sound made by the device before it went dead. Most officers in the tent held their breath for a bit longer, processing everything, before slowly releasing the air in their lungs. Schmidt cleared his throat to gather their attention.

"You heard the message. Prepare your units for tonight and don't forget your night gear and supplies. I take it everyone knows their starting position. The operation begins at 2300 hours, and we shall do a radio check by 2230. Until then, radio silence to all units unless contacted by command. Is that clear?" Several heads nodded; a gesture replied by Schmidt. "Ladies and gentlemen, you are dismissed."

A brief shared salute later, the group started to leave the tent in small groups, hopping to not attract the attention of the few unit commanders not part of the secret meeting. As they left, Schmidt gesture for Louis to remain, which he did together with Fritz and Boomfield.

"Yes?"

"I have a job for you," said Karl, sitting on the chair in front of the map of the valley.

"Tell me."

"Remember the company we left in Clunia?" Louis nodded, crossing his arms. "They were relieved by Köln Akademie earlier and are scheduled to arrive tonight and join your group. They'll arrive in battle order."

"We want you to take over to the road, wait for them, and guide them to their starting position," added Fritz, handing Louis a piece of paper with information on it, "they're expected to reach the crossroads that leads to your staging grounds by 2140 hours. Captain Boomfield will take over as commander of your group and will oversee them until you return."

The alluded American nodded, placing his command piece on the Rondel Valley map.

"Why me?" Louis' question wasn't without its merit. "Why send a captain to retrieve a company? Isn't that a waste of resources?"

"Aren't you brits good at that?" Karl rolled his eyes. "There's only so many people that I trust enough to not get lost in the dark and find that company, even if they came with all the column's road lights on. When you consider how many are involved or know of the operation, that number goes even lower."

"Add to that, many of the possible candidates are in Grant's group," intervened Fritz, "in the end, you were the safer bet, especially considering you will have ample time after retrieving them to review your troop deployment and there's no imperial activity in the valley."

"I see..." Louis scanned the map again: the only imperial flag was at the far end of the Rondel Valley, an imperial camp far away located by air reconnaissance. It would take the legionnaires several days to reach Rondel. "Give me the time and place. I'll head over once I send my men to their positions."

"Those should be in the notes Fritz handed you. Remember to be there on time: radio silence goes for everyone but the command centre."

"I thought the SAS inside Rondel could also send messages?"

"Yes, but nobody else but us will hear them. Protected frequency."

"Understood. See ya later."

Louis turned his heels and walked out of the tent, promptly followed by Boomfield. Schmidt and Fritz looked at each other briefly: only a few hours remained until the start of the operation.

"Did we do well on not including Nishizumi's company on the plan?" Asked the aide, nervously looking at the map. The Vanguard's company, as Miho Nishizumi's unit was renamed after the reorganization, was located far to the east, blocking the only known road from imperial troops coming from their camp.

"There's no way they would cooperate on this. They'll do a better job preventing any unwanted Saderan from coming our way."

"What if they try to intervene or head to Rondel during the attack?"

"I'll tell them to stay put under strict orders. Besides, I gave Petrakov especial instructions in order to make sure everything works out."

"Will he shoot the Japanese?"

"Unlikely, but he will prevent them from interfering. He has a special order signed by me that should force Roth and the Germans with him to comply, and I expect Nishizumi to understand that her girls are dead if they venture in the woods alone during combat."

"She always seemed the rational one, doesn't she?"

"Indeed. Tell them to leave by 2200 hours. Perhaps a bit earlier so they are away when we begin mobilizing."

"Right away."

"You are dismissed."

XXXXXXXXX

Clunia-Rondel Road
Several kilometres west of Rondel...

Klaus agreed with his superior officer and friend when he told him that Schmidt (or perhaps Fritz, Klaus suggested, but Louis shot down the idea) chose well the spot for them to wait for the Chilean column. A small clearing on top of a small hill overlooking the main road, they were relatively hidden from anyone in it but had a nice overview several kilometres around (at least where there was some source of light). In fact, the Irish captain mentioned, one could even make the faint lights of the main camp a fair distance away. Their attempts to find the columns moving in the dark, however, proved unsuccessful thanks to the thick foliage.

However, time was on their side if they wanted this to be over quickly: the column was scheduled to arrive by 21:40 hours, so they had ample time in their hands to spend. After establishing a rotation to watch over the road, Louis told his three crew members to spend time however they saw fit, as long as they didn't venture away from the tank; the night was dark in the fields, and even their vantage spot could only aid them so much against the shadows of the valley that claimed even more terrain as the faint last light of the day faded.

In fact, aside from a few fireflies (the irony of the tank model being a Sherman Firefly was not lost to the group), most of the light in sight came either from Rondel, far away, or a few scant lights dispersed on the main road, probably to aid travellers who were caught in the open at night.

Thus, Louis turned on a lamp inside his tank and got to read a history magazine he brought with him, throwing a glance from the visor towards the road from time to time. Klaus, his loader, sat next to him inside the armoured vehicle, passing the pages of a book on ambushes while taking notes on a notepad on his legs.

"You know, Klaus is really nice when he stays quiet, don't you think?"

"I guess he's easily angered. No people to annoy him, no reason for him to get angry."

The two girls in the team, Chloe, the gunner, and Sasha, the borrowed driver, noted among themselves as the former looked inside the tank from the hatch above. The English girl was sitting on top of the chassis, camera in hand, while the Russian teenager walked laps around the vehicle, slowly making a "perimeter" with her steps trail.

"Guess there isn't much to get him worked up when we're literally on a forest on another world," Chloe continued, shrugging, "I mean really, there nothing to do here!"

"I would appreciate you not yelling. We are not supposed to tell others we are here, are we?"

"Ok then, another question: how did you learn to drive this thing so fast? I really tried to learn it yet barely passed my tests! I mean, damn, I don't think our previous driver was as good as you... and he trained a lot!"

"We Russians have this weird quirk of us knowing almost instinctively how to use mechanical stuff. Comes with the bears and vodka."

"Wait, really?"

"No, Chloe." Sasha sighed, shaking her head as she continued her walk. "I just read the manual and have experience driving worse things than this."

"O-oh... well, while we talk about mechanical things..."

"Yes?"

"Would you happen to know why it's so hard to shot this?" Chloe showed Sasha a Webley revolver, a classic sidearm from decades ago. "Dunno why, but the triggers takes a lot of force to use it!"

"Really? Let me check."

The Russian approached from the side and carefully grabbed the weapon, using a small flashlight to unload it and inspect it quickly. She couldn't find anything of relevance, though, and soon returned it to its owner.

"And?"

"Can't find anything wrong with it, though I'm no expert on western weapons."

"Huh. Weird."

"Show me how you use it. Maybe I can see the issue then."

"Huh, sure, ok. Here I go..."

"..."

"..."

"...you have to be kidding me..."

"Huh, what? Is there something wrong?"

"Please tell me you are at least qualified on short guns."

"I am, ok?!" Chloe almost shouted, staring down with red cheeks at the Russian. "I just may or may not have fallen asleep while they were speaking about revolvers!"

"And how did you approve, then?"

"...the instructor was kind of sleepy? Enough to miss me using a regular pistol?"

"I thought that didn't happen in the west." Sasha sighed and climbed the tank, taking the gun away from the English girl. "Listen, the trigger of a Webley is heavy. Like, really heavy, especially for a girl. Which is why there's this little-known fact to shot easier: you cock the gun by throwing the hammer back. See? Now the trigger's ready to go. Easy."

"...huh," Chloe muttered, frowning. She observed Sasha's hands as she manipulated the gun, showing her how to prepare the gun for firing and, after handing it back, showing how easy it was to pull the prepared trigger once the hammer was thrown back. It was only after Sasha made sure that Chloe understood that she handed her back her bullets.

"Think I could do a few shots to test it?"

"Of course not. Radio silence, remembered?" Sasha shook her head, jumping back down to the ground. "That extends to regular noise as well. We aren't her to voice our position to every living being in the vicinity, of which I'm grateful."

"Right... hey, mind if I ask you a question?"

"Shoot."

"Are you and your brother... well..."

"Related?"

"Yeah."

"Adoptive siblings. I was adopted into his family, to be exact."

"Oh... sorry I asked..."

"Don't worry, I'm used to it." Sasha laid back on the tank, crossing her arms. Chloe tried to get a hold of her expression, yet the angle prevented her from getting a glimpse on the Russian girl. "Long story short, my parents died in service and the state makes it way easier for you if you proclaim your wish to follow their steps and join the armed forces. They arrange everything you so are adopted into a military family or one with sons or daughters in the military academies, who receive a generous stipend for the annoyance. That's how I got into the Petrakov family."

"Must've been real awkward back then, huh? Petrakov's fame isn't as known in England as in Germany, but Louis has always been transparent about his exploits."

"Wouldn't be surprised. I heard Schmidt and, Louis know each other from a while back, and that could easily transition to Khoakin knowing Louis." Sasha let out a small chuckle. "Mind you, Khoakin was still kind of sane back then. Sure, he acted like crazy, but was conscious of his actions and took care not to anger the wrong people."

"Really? Can't imagine him like that." Chloe crossed her arms, eyes fixed on the road below. She checked her wristwatch: there was still plenty of time remaining. "What happened then? How did your brother get like that?"

"The Old System. That's what." Chloe sighed, scratching the back of her head. "The scar on his forehead covered by hair, for example. Piece of shrapnel from a German shell from a while ago. Officer's meeting on a town, some spotter caught on and rained steel on them."

"Wow... sorry to hear... then, how does his crew put up with his antics? Are they equally as crazy?"

"Well, his crew has varied over the years, and I can't speak for all of them. Some followed him out of pity, others out of respect. A couple maybe out of idolatry of sorts. His current team? Can't say I know."

"I see..."

While the two girls talk died, on the other side of the steel, the two boys of the crew also talked among themselves, yet a vastly different conversation unfolded.

"Oi, Louis."

"Yes?"

"Don't you find this fishy?"

"You have to be a bit more specific than that. There's a lot going on."

"I mean, is this really a diplomatic mission? Sending a whole regiment and then hide it upon arrival doesn't sound like proper diplomatic procedure."

"Your point?"

"Something doesn't add up. What's command objective with this whole thing?"

"It could be simple precaution. We don't want to come off as aggressive towards Rondel, but it is a fact we encountered two imperial garrisons on the way that we couldn't defeat if we were a handful of diplomats and their escort. Besides, we're not even a full regiment, but a battle group made of half-strength companies formed in two informal groups."

"True... sounds like a make-shift formation." Klaus sighed, changing pages on his book. "Still, I can't help feeling uneasy. We're far from a regular unit, so command grabbed the units it had at hand until it deemed it as sufficient strength for the mission, yet we have easily overpowered all opposition until now. I also don't know if the Saderans on the other side of the valley are that much of a threat."

"What are you implying?"

"It's weird, isn't it? We constantly heard about how command complains over the lack of manpower, but when they have the chance to design the force sent to this mission, they go over the top in strength. It's like they wanted us to do something else rather than simply being ambassadors to Rondel. Are we supposed to fight the imperial garrison on the other entrance of the valley or something?"

"Remember command has also banned small groups out of fear of them being overwhelmed by enemy combatants," Louis replied, absently skimming over his magazine, "and let it not be said that reconnaissance-in-force is easy. Orders are not definitive, but there's a real chance we'll have to punch through the imperial garrison on the other side of the valley and feign an attack on the core of Saderan territory, even if only to spook them. There's little possibility of them retaliating against Rondel, and should they do so, it only aids our cause."

"Then why are we here? Shouldn't we be at the camp and have someone else fetch the Chileans?"

"The camp is mobilizing. Something about switching locations and fighting off patrols."

Patrols that didn't exist but were rather the phantom threat so the man would not complain over the battle order until the real orders to attack came through. Not that Louis could tell Klaus that, given the confidentiality orders imposed on all officers.

"Whatever suits the plate of command..." Klaus stayed silent a bit, hearing. "Are those two really watching the road or just doing girl talk out there?"

"Take a guess." Louis climbed over to the hatch, opening with a grunt. "What's going on here?"

"Ah, Louis. Nothing, Sasha was just reminding me how to use the revolver."

"... isn't that my revolver?" Asked the Irish, frowning.

"... is that the captain's revolver?" Asked Sasha, raising an eyebrow.

"...it may be Louis revolver..." admitted Chloe, a drop of sweat falling down her forehead.

"Just give it back." Louis snatched the gun from his subordinate's hand, securing it on his belt as she complained with a pout. "Don't look at me like that. That's a security risk I'm not taking."

"Really? I'm a security risk?"

"I don't see anything more dangerous than you with a revolver around here. Here, be a good watch and hold onto this."

"... really? This?"

"Don't look at me like that. You brought this onto yourself." Louis replied, ignoring Chloe's poker face in favour of going back inside the tank.

"Smartass."

XXXXXXXXXX

A long while passed by, as the minutes slowly ticket by to the desperation of the girl atop the tank. Chloe hadn't kept track of the time, but she was certain the Chileans were running late. She was too bored for it to be that little! Still, the whole crew rotated on top of the chassis, and she once again found herself sitting next to the hatch and overlooking the road.

Damn she was pissed. She felt like picking someone's ear and tugging it until it fell off. If she could choose, it would be whoever was commanding the motorized infantry column they were waiting.

With nothing better to do, Chloe inspected (for the 7th time) her surroundings. Sasha was still circling around the tank, this time reversing her direction, and the two boys of the crew were once again inside the vehicle. The trees around her looked the same as the last time she saw them, which didn't bode well for her mental state.

Would Louis nag her if she took a nap? Probably yes. Speaking of her captain, he had discarded his magazine for his mobile phone. She guessed he finished the few pages it had.

God, was twenty to ten truly that far away? Those South Americans could really learn to be punctual from time to time.

...

They weren't late or anything. She was just pissed.

Chloe nodded at Sasha as the Russian once again appeared in her field of vision, lazily walking around in her make-shift road. The Englishwoman had to wonder how her feet didn't hurt after all that walking. Was it because she used them to drive the tank? Wait, did drivers even use their feet to drive the tanks, or was it only levers and buttons? She had no idea.

The thoughts occupied her head until Sasha disappeared from her vision. She was brought back to reality by the noise of leaves behind her, but even by straining her ear, she couldn't hear anything else. She was also not really into standing out to check.

"Hey Sasha. Mind checking those bushes for me?"

But there was no answer. Chloe repeated the question, yet once against she received no answer. Something was wrong. Sasha should've appeared in her field of vision already. She strained her ears again, searching for the Russian girl steps, yet the only thing she heard was...

...a soft sound behind her. Chloe quickly turned around.

"Hey, Sasha. If you think this is funny, I'll-"

Chloe couldn't finish the phrase, as she froze in place at the sight of legionnaires a few steps from her. Both parties stared at each other for long seconds, eyes wide and mouths open, until suddenly, a Saderan lunged at her.

"Aaaah-hmf?!"

"Ssshhh..."

A heavy hand landed on her mouth, the adult man silencing her shout. His other hand grabbed both of hers, immobilizing her, as she tried to kick off another one with kicks. She succeeded in kicking the hostile down, yet another soon climbed the vehicles and reached her side, pulling out a sword and stabbing her with it. Feeling her forces abandon her, Chloe soon fell from the chassis, her back meeting the cold, hard soil.

XXXXXXXXX

Louis may not have been the brightest of his generation, yet he proved once and again as someone capable when it mattered. Among his most important traits was the ability to listen even when he was doing something else, a skill he often put to good use to gather information while pretending he did otherwise.

This time, however, it allowed him to notice Chloe's scream and the people hurriedly climbing the vehicle. He supressed a groan and grabbed his revolver, shacking Klaus awake.

"W-wha, what the..."

"Enemies. Outside."

"Wha..."

They both heard someone kicking around, and soon two heavy objects fell to the ground.

"W-were those the girls?"

"I don't know. Get your gun ready, I can hear them climbing the tank."

"Is the hatch locked?"

"No, but we would be trapped if we did, and we would sentence Chloe and Sasha if they're still alive."

"I feel like we'll die instead..."

"Seal the other hatches. Let them try to force the main one."

A hand grabbed the hatch as they spoke, slowly prying it open. Both looked at each other and nodded, sitting in opposite sides of the vehicle, and aiming down the sights of their guns. Soon after, the hatch was forced open as an adult head appeared on the hole.

BANG!

Only to explode as a bullet pierced it at the centre. Brains and blood spewed out from it back, causing shouts to come from its likely companions as the now-corpse fell back, both students hearing it reach the ground. Another head that appeared from the opposite side received the same treatment from Klaus, getting even more shouts from their Saderan besiegers. The scene incredibly repeated itself, and two more Saderans met their end at the upper hatch of the tank with holes in their faces.

"This feels like cheating..."

"Says the one trap- what is that?"

"What's what?"

A small bag fell through the hatch. Klaus pulled himself closer to examine it, finding a stuffed sack full of an unknown powder with a lit fuse on top.

A curse left his lips.

"Fuck! Grenade!"

"What?!"

"Grenade!"

Louis curled over himself for protection as Klaus threw himself over the cannon shells, protecting them with his body. The sack exploded not even a second after, the explosion not a large one, but its effects amplified by the sealed nature of the armoured vehicle. Injured, deaf, and stunned, Louis could barely register the Sadera legionnaire descending inside the tank, grabbing Klaus by the armpits and pulling him upwards.

A drowned shout came from above. Louis held no illusion as to what happened to his loader and tightened his hold on the revolver. He rocked the hammer back and waited, keeping his finger away from the trigger as the legionnaire pulled him upwards. Why didn't he kill him inside, he didn't know.

What he did know, however and to great satisfaction to him, was that the legionnaire waiting with a bloodied sword on top of the tank did not expect to see his "easy prey" rise his hand and dig his gun on his armoured chest, a wide smile on his face.

"See ya on hell, wanker."

Louis pulled the trigger a second after. Blood, flesh, metal, and bone flew outwards from the Saderan's back, showering the man behind him, as the legionnaire holding him up threw him to the side in apparent surprise, letting him fall out the tank and hit the chassis before meeting the hard soil on his side. With a grunt, the Irishman rolled over to his side and raised his arm, coking the hammer back and shooting the next Saderan that crossed his vision, mockingly smiling at the sight of the body falling from the turret and hitting the ground besides him.

Louis kept his smile as he readied the hammer again, noticing another Saderan trying to creep on him by his side. He let his arm fall to his right and pulled the trigger, the shot opening a large wound on his enemy's throat. He felt a sharp pain on his left: another legionnaire managed to reach him and had buried his sword on Louis stomach. Keeping the mocking smile on, the captain mustered a final effort and dragged his arm to his chest, cocking the revolver and firing his final shot as the sword descended on him a second time.

In a matter of seconds, the life of both had dried out.

XXXXXXXXX

The minutes ticked by in a hazy state as her mind wandered between consciousness and unconsciousness, reality and dream. She managed to see how Saderan heads were blown out by shots from inside the tank, yet also how one –Klaus– was dragged out and stabbed on the hatch. She felt the explosion inside as well, and then she truly knew they had lost. Once Klaus was gone, it was a matter of time and lives until they took out Louis.

And he did pull up a fight. Chloe was sure she saw her captain took out at least two Saderans on the way out, but knowing him, it was probably at least twice. In the end it didn't matter; they were all defeated anyway.

The pain of the wound at her side was only defeated by the anger at how easily they had been taken out. It was such a simple and basic mistake that she refused to believe it had happened. Surely, they had some new technique, right? Or a new weapon? Perhaps magic? They had magic in this world, right? Maybe something to muffle their steps? Or ultra quick climbing?

But whatever it may be, it didn't change the fact that it was her team and not the Saderan one that laid bleeding on the soil. And even if she was still alive, she was positive she wasn't making it out anyway.

"What a way to wake up to reality..." she thought bitterly, letting the air slowly leave her lungs. Breathing hurt, but not as much as the bleeding gap on her side. Still, from the pain, a new determination came.

If she couldn't avenge her team herself, then someone else would avenge them in her stead.

Slowly, careful to not alert the legionnaires still alive, she took out the object that Louis gave her a while ago. Between the darkness and the similar colour, it was fairly easy to miss it in the blood that she and Sasha, next to her, were pouring on the ground, and Chloe counted in this to prevent any of the Saderans to notice it.

However, even if they didn't see the object, they could see her. And they seemed rather wary of allowing her to do anything.

"Hey!"

A kick soon came her way, making her roll on her side with a loud gasp.

"Sorry, bitch was trying something. Better to be sure."

"What should we do with her?"

"She's still warm, isn't she? Same as the other one."

"Of course she's warm, dumbass, she's alive. This one has a big cut, and the other took an arrow to the knee... followed by a stab."

"Should we take turns? It's not like there's many of us anymore."

"We almost had them, dammit. We shouldn't have looked inside after the first two lost their head."

"Oh, shut up. You were about to do the same."

They were as distracted as they would ever be. Chloe gathered her strength, slowly raised her arm, laughed a little, and fired the gun in her hand. The Saderan conversation ceased immediately, their eyes fixed on the girl that had just apparently shot a red gun without hitting anybody.

"Time to finish work I guess."

But as they approached her, Chloe finished counting stared at them with a wide, pained smile, and simply muttered:

"Game over, twats."

The night sky shone with red light. The Saderans looked up, eyes wide as their minds processed the fact: with how bright it was, surely even Rondel would be alerted of something going on. Their worries weren't over, though: a very familiar noise appeared at the distance, and it was fast approaching.

Chloe, victorious grin on her face, gave them a last glance before slipping into unconsciousness.

.

XXXXXXXXX

.

Kampfgruppe Schmidt Camp
Sometime earlier...

"Oi, Nazi cunt."

"What do you want, Petrakov?"

The Russian rolled his eyes at the absent way the German commander acknowledged him, after finally finding after looking everywhere in the camp. The same activity made him notice the large number of troops going out of the perimeter, at least relative to movements the previous days. It was a suspicious timing, especially with the "especial orders" Schmidt's aide had handed him not even a few hours earlier.

"Where's the other cunt's team?"

"Who?"

"You know, the brit."

"Louis?"

"Yeah, him."

"He's out meeting with the company from Clunia."

Petrakov blinked a couple times, stopping his step. He then caught up to Schmidt, who kept waking, in a few strides.

"He's what?"

"Should be back in a few minutes. Is almost rendezvous time."

"Who's with them?"

"Hm?"

"What's their escort?"

"Nobody. Discretion is imperative."

"So you sent them alone?!"

"I just said that."

It was clear from Schmidt's tone that he was far from happy taking with Petrakov. If that wasn't a clear indication, his pace hastened, as he shouted an order to Fritz, who had just appeared from the command tent, prompting him to hastily make his way to the western entrance.

"Are you an idiot? Well, you are, but even more than I thought?!"

"Shut it."

"It's too risky to send them on their own!"

"Risk have been considered, calculated, and considered superfluous. There's minimal imperial presence in the area and no hostiles have been detected in the past three days in neutral territory."

"I still say you should have sent more men. Send me! I'm more than happy to bore myself out in this fucking pest of a world!"

"..." Schmidt stopped walking, side eyeing Khoakin. The German's eyes betrayed no emotion, and soon he resumed his walking.

"Sasha?"

"Who else?"

Schmidt ignored the grunt that accompanied the answer, or perhaps didn't register it.

"All the men are busy or out of base. You yourself have to mobilize soon to the eastern road checkpoint by your orders."

"The fuck is the rest doing anyway?"

"Patrols, mainly, and searching for a new spot for the camp."

"Why?"

"Location is suspected to be compromised by locals learning of it. Even if it isn't, we can't stay for too long here or we'll be detected."

"So many patrols? And relocating at this time of night?"

"Again, no enemy presence, but the locals can't detect us either. We aren't moving with sunlight."

"Do you take me for a fool?"

"At the very least, yes."

Petrakov formed his hands in a fist and glared at his former peer in rank.

"Do you know what I think right now?"

"If I wanted your drunkard opinion, I would have asked for it."

"Drunkard?"

"I can smell vodka from here. You haven't been subtle. Luckily for you, I know you are a functioning alcoholic."

"You can thank Kalinigrad for that."

"You can thank Kalinigrad for a lot of things. This, I suspect not." Schmidt half turned around, staring at the Russian. "Anything else?"

"... send me and my crew to look for Louis."

"Go help Nisizhumi prepare and leave for the eastern checkpoint. If there's nothing else to discuss, you are dismissed."

"Listen here you bast-"

"Ich. Bin. Der. Kommandant." Schmidt hammered down each word, fully turning towards Petrakov. The Russian seethed with anger, hands in fists inside his pockets. "Now go do you job and get the hell out."

The major resumed his path and soon Petrakov found himself alone. He took deep breaths until his teeth stopped grinding against each other, turning on his heels and heading towards his tank. His crew was already on the vehicle, lazily talking around as they waited for his commanding officer.

"Start the tank."

"We're leaving already? Took an awful lot of time," Ivan half-asked jokingly, but his mood fell as he noticed the poor humour of the captain. "Did something happen?"

"You could say so." Khoakin was soon on the turret hatch, his crew following suit through the ones in the chassis as they started the vehicle's engine. "We're heading out."

"What about Nishizumi? Do we have orders from her?"

"I give the orders now," Petrakov's voice made the Sevchenko brothers look among themselves, while Ivan raised a wary eyebrow. "I have a very bad feeling about something. We're heading west through the main road. Turn on all lights as well."

Before any could comment on that, a noise rang out in the distance: gunshots. Several of them, in fact. The camp, febrile with activity, fell silent as if cast under a spell, allowing Khoakin's voice to be heard even clearer to his crew:

"Come on, move it!" As the tank got on the road, none of the guards daring to stop it, a red light shone against the night sky not too far away in a small elevation. "Over there! Go right!"

At the same time, as Schmidt was finishing his round around the camp while preparing for the operation, the appearance of gunshots made him stop dead in his tracks and tune his ear. As the noise repeated itself, he quickly looked around and shouted as he made his way to his command vehicle.

"Scheisse... Heinrich, take over the camp! No one in or out! Dussler, mount your vehicles, everyone to the west!" Soon he saw the flare rise high, painting the entire area with red. He recognized where it came from. "Quickly!"

XXXXXXXXX

Khoakin lost no time jumping down from his IS-2 with a PPSh-41 in hand, quickly gunning down the shapes of the legionnaires trying to lose themselves in the forest on the waning light of the red flare. Expert mad eyes scanned the clearing, blood boiling as his steps took him around the stationary armoured vehicle.

The first one he came across was Louis. The North Irish captain had a sword stuck in his stomach, coupled with burn signs and other wounds. He still had a mocking smile, gripping his Webley revolver in his hand and surrounded by several corpses. He clearly went out with a fight. At the back of the tank he found Louis' loader, Klaus, presenting two stab wounds on his torso and in an awkward position that suggested he was dead before reaching the ground.

On the other side of the tank, kicking out two Saderan bodies on the way, he found what he dreaded the most: his sister, Sasha, with arrows sticking out of her legs, a gaping wound on her back, and collapsed on the floor, not moving. Khoakin sprinted to her side, carelessly pushing Chloe's shape out of the way, and kneeled next to her adoptive sister, searching for vitals. He wouldn't be late, he couldn't be late...

...

...

...

He found nothing.

Deep inside the Russian, so deep into his psyche that he didn't even believe that it existed, something cracked.

He stood up, pushing aside his gunner Mikhail and closing in on a trembling body trying to get away silently. The captain grabbed it by the neck and raised it above the ground, pushing the cannon of his submachine gun on his back.

"Where are your comrades?"

"I-I don't know, I swear!"

"Where is your base?"

"I..."

Khoakin pressed gun against his back.

"Speak and you live. Refuse and you die. 10 seconds."

"I-I..."

"10... 9... 8... 4... 3..."

"W-wait!"

"2..."

"Northwest! It's a small village to the northwest! I swear it by Elange! It's a small village we use as lodging, nothing else!"

"I see."

Khoakin dropped the legionnaire. Then he unloaded the magazine on his back.

"Khoakin... well, area clear. You killed the few that we spotted when we arrived. Should we stand by for the rest? I saw movement from the camp towards here..."

"No." A single look told the IS-2 gunner that his commanding officer was not going to listen to whatever he said. He was very expressive with his body language, which made him fear the absolute calmness he was seeing right now. "We'll go to that town. Get on the tank, tell Yuri to drive there."

"Listen, I'm also angry at what happened to Sasha, but shouldn't we-"

"I said DRIVE THERE!" The captain rose his weapon against his gunner, eyes burning in furious flames. Mikhail noticed the lack of a magazine in it, but was as quick to detect Khoakin's left on his side gun. "Do I look calm to you? It's because I fucking am and I can think for myself. Now get into the fucking tank and drive towards that village or I'll tie you to a rope behind the engine and asphyxiate you with its fumes!"

Mikhail gulped, his glare travelling from Khoakin's face to the guns in his possession. He wasn't foolish enough to try and beat the (he suspected) drunk officer in a melee fight, that if he could get close enough without being shot in the first place. Thus, he slowly rose his arms in surrender and walked back to the tank, softly clicking his tongue when Khoakin secured the turret hatch open.

Mikhail told the Sevchenko brothers to drive to the northwest, and the metallic beast surged forward down the small hill and into the forest. Thanks to the noise of the engine, already barely bearable in regular conditions when next to each other, Mikahil took the chance to tell the Sevchenko brothers what happened in the clearing.

"He's nuts," was Ivan's conclusion, his brother Yuri nodding along, "can't we tell command what the fuck is going on? It's not like he'll heard us, will he?"

"He's ahead of you," Mikahil shook his head, sighing, "he cut off the antenna. Radio's dead, and good luck fixing it with a gun on your neck."

"Dammit."

It wasn't long until they reached a small village, with Khoakin ordering his crew to stop the tank in the trees at the outskirts. He scanned it quickly before lazily pointing to the largest building in the centre of the place, decorated by a Saderan banner on its side.

"Blow it up."

"W-what?"

"You heard me. Blow it up. I want it in pieces right now."

"But the civilians..."

"Either the house or your head. Pick quick or I'll do it for you."

"..."

Mikhail took a deep breath and aimed the gun. Slightly trembling, he pulled the trigger.

The huge explosion paralyzed life in the village, its few inhabitants in its streets caught by surprise by its violence as the home of their chief disappeared into a million fragments. They had little time to process it, however, as the responsible stepped in with less than amicable intent.

"Come on you sons of a whore! I know you are here! Come out and fight me ya cowards!"

His crew knocked unconscious behind, Petrakov had no one to even attempt to tell him to stop as he grabbed the box full of grenades he took from his tank and threw its content on the village. The small explosions were quick to make all civilians around start running screaming and shouting, yet little seemed to reach the Russian officer in his frenzy. A middle-aged man with a stick tried to stop him, but Khoakin, having emptied the box, saw it fit to throw it at his head.

It hit, and as the man tried to get up from the floor, his world spinning around, Petrakov gunned him down a swift moment later.

"Come out already you motherfuckers! I know you are here, dammit!"

The submachine gun was raised, and a new hail of bullets emerged from it, causing anyone attempting to flee suffering the same fate as their would-be defender and joining the corpses littering the road. Petrakov was quick of his feet and dexter in his hand movement, successfully killing anyone that his eyes registered with barely a second thought. His path, initiated by explosions, now marked itself from lead, corpses, and fire.

He was half down the village when something news appeared: a fully geared legionnaire, armed with a spear and facing him, lunging down on him from above using a ceiling. Khoakin was quick to evade him, noticing him from the shout as he came down, but failed to shoot him as the Saderan used the back of his weapon to disarm him.

Not one to be outdone, the Russian grabbed the shaft and pulled, tackling his enemy from behind and forcing him to release his weapon, only to be brought down by a feet movement of the imperial, who rose up, took out his short sword, and tried to stab him. The blade sank into the dirt as Khoakin moved his head to the side, his hand grabbing his own side weapon and unloading an entire magazine on the offender, moving the cadaver aside as it fell. With a heavy grunt, Petrakov stood up, recovered his gun, and broke down the door of the house he was attacked, beating the entire family out and lining them up against their house wall.

"P-please, mercy! We have not done anything!"

"Where are the soldiers?! WHERE are the Saderans?!"

"W-we don't know, I swear for Elange!"

"They came from here."

"They stayed in the village last night! They left by noon! Please, mercy!"

"You are lying. Tell me where they are."

"I don't know! I swear!"

Khoakin sighed heavily. He hated stubborn people.

"Fucking Romans and their brainwashed people. It would be all easier if you had simply broken down..." He rose his weapon again. "If you so wish to protect the imperials, THEN DIE WITH THEM!"

He lined up his sights, aiming at the chest of the father...

THUD!

Only to fall unconscious to the ground.

Behind the collapsed shape of the Russian officer stood a group of men in grey uniforms. One of them was lowering down their long gun, a clear sign of him being the culprit of knocking the rogue captain unconscious. The faces, barely distinguishable under the dim lighting of the fires, showed varying faces of contempt and disgust.

The leader of the group, if the flashier details of his uniform were a give-away, gave a brief look around as two men each grabbed an arm of Petrakov, a third taking his guns, dragging him out after cuffing him. The petrified family, scared to their very bone, could only remain in their spot under the watchful eyes of their saviours, praying the worst had come to pass.

Barely a few seconds later, a new man –no, a teenager, same as the group in grey if their eyes didn't deceive them–, also wearing grey but with parts of different colour, appeared, walked towards the party leader, and clicked his heels together as his right hand went to his temple.

"Herr major, my captain Silva informs that we have completed the surrounding of the town and captured all civilians trying to escape. They have been gathered in a small clearing on the border with the forest."

They couldn't understand a word, but it was clear by now these teenagers were not locals by any standard.

The group leader scanned the village again with his gaze, his factions betraying no emotion despite the destruction, the dead, and the frightened wounded.

"I want no witnesses," he finally declared, looking back at the boy, "kill everyone and burn down the place. Bury everyone in a mass grave and pinch the top bodies with bayonets to make it seem like an imperial attack with spears."

"Yessir!" Another hand to the temple, and the newcomer was soon gone.

The group leader walked away, half his group following him. The other half, moving up in front of the unsuspecting family, quickly rose their weapons, lined them up, and fired.

.

.

.

The three women stared in horror as the seemingly inoffensive group of teenagers, the ones they wanted to talk to in their naivete, swiftly encircled the burning village and slowly closed up on it step by step, pushing forward everyone and killing those who tried to resist. Soon a large group, most of the surviving inhabitants of the village, were grouped in the central plaza, forced to dig a large pit "for the corpses of their neighbours", only to be shot inside of it without a second word.

Soon the "students", if one could still call them that, were moving up and down the village, hunting with ruthless efficiency all surviving people they could find, dragging the corpses, impaling them with bayonets, and throwing them down the hole they themselves made them dig earlier.

It was soon clear to Lelei, Arpeggio and Mimoza that they needed to leave the place immediately and give alarm to Rondel. Lacking most of their magic supplies and deciding that they lacked anything with them with the force to oppose the otherworlders guns, they opted to separate, and each make their way out on their own to avoid detection by being a large group.

Lelei and Mimoza arrived at the designated meeting point roughly at the same time, using bushes and trees as a way to avoid the patrols and sentries, but as minutes passed by they got alarmed from Arpeggio's missing presence. It was Lelei who lead the way back in, traversing the trees back as she looked around for her older sister, always keeping an eye on the main road, who's shape Arpeggio declared she would follow to avoid getting lost.

They found Arpeggio slightly before reaching the starting point. The sight froze them: the brunette was fighting with two of the students, her magical gear discarded, as the boys dragged her to the large pit in the middle of the town. Mimoza barely managed to cover Lelei's mouth as Arpeggio was hit by the wooden part of the weapons, thrown inside the pit, and gunned down immediately.

Barely a second later, as tears were just beginning to show on the two, a noise came from next to them: soldiers were coming. Mimoza was quick to grab Lelei's hand and lead her out of there, keeping their mouths shut and their steps light, making their way back to Rondel, leaving the village with increasingly larger flames behind.

They had to tell everybody.

.

.

.

Karl stood near his command vehicle, the trusty kubelwagen, as a couple Chilean enlisted gave reports on the town. The fire of the burning buildings gave the entire place a red tint, but also provided some much-needed light for the group to manoeuvre around as they talk among themselves and made their way back to meeting points, preparing to resume their journey.

The radio attached to the roared the life with static, prompting a round of raised eyebrows from the teenagers. Who would be so daring as to defy the radio silence imposed since hours ago? However, to the commanding officer, it was an expected contact.

Even if it came a little later than expected.

"Downfall 0-1, this is Goliath 1. Do you receive me? Over."

"Goliath 1, Downfall 0-1-Actual. Loud and clear, over."

"Major, it looks like you had some fun down there. That's way too big of a fire for it to be a bonfire, over."

"Something happened and plans diverged. We'll need a few minutes before all remaining pieces are ready to go, over."

"About that, major... Code AM-18, over."

Schmidt felt his grip on the speaker tighten, and his blood freeze. He blinked a couple times, breathing in once, twice, thrice, before opening his mouth again.

"Come again, Goliath 1."

"AM-18. The mission is cancelled, major, over."

"...what?!" His voice came out much louder than expected... and perhaps the loudest it had been in a while. At least since Italica, if not further back in time. Even his soldiers were staring at him with strange faces, not used to their leader being that outspoken. "Tell me you are joking, Goliath 1!"

"Negative, major. It is very real, directly from Alnus, and to them, from the military headquarters in Europe. Apparently, someone from intelligence got a leak, and from it spilled to everyone, over."

"... you can't be serious... you know how long it took to get here? Get everyone in position? We are not even an hour away from the main assault, and you want us to cancel and go back like nothing?!"

"We're still here! We can say-!"

"Major, the orders come from high on the command chain. Way too high." The pilot kept the line open yet took a moment to continue speaking, as if deciding whether or not to reveal what he was thinking. "Kampfgruppe Model conducted a raid on the Vanguard Regiment headquarters in Italica. Colonel Laundraff and most of the staff have been arrested as well. Apparently, it was all authorized by Alnus Command, over."

Schmidt felt his strength weaken for a brief moment. If what the pilot said was true, then it was over. He would be digging an even deeper grave for himself if he carried out his orders, not to mention he would be doing so alone with dubious loyalty of the troops if they learned what happened. That, and the burning town made it uncertain whether there was still a surprise factor to be considered for the attack. There was only one thing he could do at the moment.

"Understood, Goliath 1. Circle back and provide overwatch for our falling back of the valley. Downfall 0-1 out."

The major kicked down a burnt wooden structure nearby, breathing deeply to calm himself. He felt like hitting something, or shooting it, or anything, really. Frustration was really a bitch, wasn't it? Yet he had already lost Louis, might as well prevent further losses.

"Send someone to recover Louis' tank, the bodies, and whoever remains of his crew," he ordered, "everyone else, mount your vehicles and fall back!"

"""Yessir!"""

He was about to climb his kubelwagen when the short-range radio became alive. There were only two groups allowed to use it inside its range.

"Downfall 0-1, this is Bravo 4-3. We have a visual of our host and what appears to be an older lady on the way to Rondel, over."

'On the way to Rondel? This late?'

"What are they doing? Over."

"Running back to Rondel, apparently. Permission to shot them now, over."

"Why?"

"They come from the direction of the burning village. If they get the word out, we might have issues with the attack, over."

It felt like a punch to the gut. Schmidt sighed, taking off his cap.

"Bravo 4-3, the mission is cancelled, over."

"Say again, Downfall 0-1."

"Mission is cancelled. Cover the route until all teams exfil from Italica, then fall back to camp, over."

"...understood, 0-1. What do we do about the mages?"

What to do, indeed? However, there was only one thing to do if he wanted to preserve the safety for his group.

"...permission to shoot granted, 4-3."

"Understood, 0-1. Bravo 4-3 out."

Schmidt nodded to his radio operator, climbing into the vehicle. The soldier nodded back as he got to his seat, the major spoke once again:

"To all Downfall units, this is Downfall 0-1-Actual. Disengage and return to camp, I repeat, disengage, and fall back to the camp. Prepare to leave the valley and leave no sign of our stay behind. Downfall 0-1 out."

He made a gesture and the soldier cut off the radio, no doubt now brimming with unit commanders asking why the sudden change in orders. However, he was not in the mood to deal with them right now. Sighing again, he relaxed against his seat's back as he pondered over his situation.

The only casualties in the kampfgruppe during the trip so far had been Khoakin, Louis, and their crews, and he intended to keep it that way. He wondered if the operation could've gone ahead had he not waited the Chilean column. He also wondered if he should have sent another group to retrieve the column, if anyone at all. Further thinking led him to question whether the attack would have succeeded if he went ahead without the air support, which would probably have carried the same news anyway.

He groaned, scratching the side of his head as he tried to clear the thought from his mind. Relaxing against the back of his seat, Schmidt sighed and covered his face with his cap, letting the noise of the engines drown his wandering thoughts about what had been and what could have possibly been.

After all, he was simply a soldier and following orders.

.

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A/N: This time there's large segments both of mostly redone parts and merely translated parts. It was due to happen, though: from here on we enter the part of the story that's actually decently written, so the hard part is actually integrating the new elements of the remake into the already knitted story.

Regarding important changes from the Spanish version... well, for once, we have more of Miho and crew (not that hard compared to the original version), some more characterization of Khoakin (who also seems tamer, I guess?), a better use of the characters of Lelei and Arpeggio, and a better timeline of the whole mini arc. Also, the entire bit of Schroeder and Kampfgruppe Model is new, but I love it. I have wanted to use that student PMC for years and it's finally the time. Next chapter I'll go into more detail of what they did here, but you can already picture the scene a bit.

Oh yeah, the Rondel parts were actually remade entirely from scratch. Runs circles around the original version if you ask me.

Sitting roughly at 26,000 words, this chapter might be the longest I've ever written so far... well, it beats the 22,000 words of "DxD: The Organization" chapter 6, and the 23,300 of chapter 16 part 3 of my "1940s" GATE fanfic. While I could compare it to the full chapter 16 of that fanfic (48k words), it's a bit unfair since that chapter was done over 18 months in 3 parts.

Anyway, it's certainly longer than the almost 17,000 words of the original version, at least. Talk about an improvement, amirite?

I don't know if there's anything else to address, so, read ya later, I guess,
RedSS.