A/N: Well, when I first wrote this chapter, it was the Sunday's night before an algebra test in high school. Yeah, there's that, but honestly the quality was dictated more by me being lazy than the pressure from the upcoming test (which I probably nailed, as math was my forte in those times). Well, there's that I guess.

With all that said and done, let's get to work in this next chapter. Here the OC characters will take the spotlight even more compared to GuP canon characters. This is all for background reasons, though, and will extend into the next major chapter. Also, saying this now as there was some confusion on the Spanish version, there is a character named "Erika Fëhring" who is NOT related to "Erika Itsumi" from Girls und Panzer. The OC Erika, whom so far has just appeared in the first chapter, was just a character put there for unrelated purposes that, while she has a paper in the story, could've been replace by another existing character easily. You know, some of the mistakes made early in the writing coupled with shifting directives for the story.

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 product who seeks no monetary gain or compensation.

.

.

.

Chapter 6

Aftermath and Scars

Throne Room, Formal Mansion, Italica
D-Day +23
22:04 hours

Night had long fallen on the trading city of Italica, and peace and quietness had, for the most part, also established themselves upon the population, who for once in several days could breathe in relief at the thought of going to sleep and not worrying about waking up to the sound of combat and the sight of fire on the walls. They were also relieved by their new conquerors, who seemed, overall, much nicer than your average army plundering the lands and destroying the countryside and the buildings for nights after combat ceased. However, for the officers commanding such monstruous force, capable of defeating all but the largest imperial armies and able to push back a major force of nature such as the Flame Dragon, issues were just piling up as long as the clock kept ticking in the wall.

Hauptmann Karl Schmidt passed a hand through his blond hair, wiping some sweat from his forehead and suppressing a yawn, failing, and opting to hide it with his wrist. He left the cap on the table and balanced his seat, supporting and pushing it with his foot on the side of the table. It would be so easy to fall asleep, despite all the coffee he drank during the day: just letting go of his consciousness for a while could do wonders for his mental health... but unfortunately, he wasn't that keen on possibly not waking up until the next sunrise when there was still much urgent work to be done, and as such he dutifully remained awake.

His eyes wandered around the room. Boomfield, the American exchange student and his executive officer for now, was currently sorting some papers on the table, probably separating them in groups to distribute them later. He should give a raise to whoever thought of bringing both a printer and an energy adapter for it to work with vehicle-based energy. Near the wall at his side, with his chair being the closest, was the seat of the Formal Clan's ruler, currently empty as Countess Myui, the current head of the clan, had retreated for the night not too long ago, guided by her head maid Kaine. The girl was really pushing herself to her own limits through all this, though considering the average coalition soldier was barely a few years older, it was not his place to judge her (he was barely seventeen, for God's sake!). On the side-lines of the room, next to the door, he found Oberleutnant Erika Fehring tiredly standing still as the chief –and only member present– of his security detail. It was weird seeing her mounting guard in the black Panzer uniform, but not as weird as the other stuff he had seen today so far. It was barely ten in the afternoon, there was still space for the day to throw things at him. Finally, out of his view, outside the door were two guards armed with MP40 submachine guns, ready to keep out any undesirable visit and filter who could and could not see him.

His tired eyelids forced his eyes to drop the door and focus on the map on top of the table. The tokens in it showed roughly the distribution of the troops in the city, marking some order into the ragtag assortment of units that made his makeshift "army" in Italica. It was a mess, but he managed to make something coherent out of it.

The largest issue so far had been the absolute lack of infantry he had at his disposal: all the Japanese high schools worked only with tanks, and a fair share of the mobilized personnel to Italica was either armoured or mechanized troops. Leg infantry was a precious commodity, and many mountd soldiers had to ditch their precious vehicles for lack of an alternative. He was lucky the narrow streets of the medieval city made for a convincing argument on favour of his priorities.

Still, most units were of armoured nature, and he had to work with that. In a stroke of luck, he realized together with some of his top subordinates, the reinforcements sent to the city were mostly of company or platoon level, and there wasn't a prepared plan for what they should do once the emergency of the Flame Dragon subsided. This allowed Schmidt, coupled by Boomfield, Petrakov and other opportunistic officers in his ranks, to arrange the chain of command so that it was established that Schmidt, while sharing his rank with many, was the de facto senior commander by virtue of his role and position. Many bought the excuse, while others were happy to let go of command of the entire mess. A few, mostly from his own academy, already knew that those words were more true than false, and their agreement quickly quelled any opposition to the German's command.

Karl chuckled. The sequels of the Incident were always showing one way or another.

Still, despite the calmness of the night and the exhausted state of many of his men, he wasn't taking any chances. While forcing the Recon Teams to quarter in and around the mansion and rest as much as they could for now, he'd placed the city under martial law to ensure that there were no shenanigans (a new word he'd recently learn around Americans). The girls from the 4th Tank Guards Company of Sankt-Peterburgskaya Zhenskaya Akademiya, an equally only-armour unit in the spirit of the Japanese high schools, stood around the building in their T-34/76's, complementing the scant infantry in guard duty. The roofs around the mansion and the entrance of the three gates to the city were occupied by special forces, specifically SAS and Brandemburg, while around said gates was an iron perimeter made of an armoured company of the Tovarishcheskaya Akademiya and infantry from one recon team each.

The iron grip on the city finished with the two Japanese Brigades present, the 1st from Kuromorimine and the 2nd from Pravda, patrolling the major streets in their tanks, while the British infantry from the British Brigade, Grenadier Guards of the Guards Academy, coupled with their female armoured counterparts from the Lords' Academy's 1st Tank Detachment, took upon themselves to keep watch in the more narrow streets and places away from the main avenues, mostly through a web of checkpoints and constant radio communications.

Of course, he wasn't going to allow some units to sit idly while other worked: there were several other things to do. The 3rd and 7thPanzer companies of the Panzer Akademie were tasked with search and recovery of the vehicles and casualties of the battle against the bandits and the Flame Dragon, while the 1st and 2nd Combined Arms companies of the Einseres Kreuz Akademie set up an outer perimeter in the hills around the city, scouting the horizon for new threats and, generally, just being kept busy. Such was the impressive apparatus set to defend the city, with its brains in the throne room of the Forman Mansion, now turned into an improvised command room with him in the middle.

Unsuspected by many of said soldiers, however, the overall commander's toughest battle right now consisted of staying awake to oversee them in the first place. Karl suppressed another yawn as he tried to remember what else was there to worry about, with simply throwing everything away and going to sleep becoming more tempting by the minute.

"Boomfield," he called his XO, who nodded for an answer. "What happened with the hospital we set up in the base floor?"

"It's going well so far, sir. The medical equipment brought by the reinforcements allowed us to set a somewhat functional medical center, but the more injured need to be shipped to Alnus ASAP if we want them back in the fight soon. That includes the two pilots the SAS managed to rescue, and also the bodies we manage to recover so they are sent back to Europe."

"Right... arrange for a first group to leave for Alnus tomorrow morning. They'll all be tired after tonight's guard duties, so allow them some time to rest... maybe 9:00 AM?"

"Sounds good to me. Any special unit to go first?"

"The more seriously wounded get priority. Their escort will be whatever academy is raising fuss over its students being in an active warzone."

"You mean most of them?"

"You know what I mean."

"I sure do. The Russians from St. Petersburg and the brits from the Lords Academy are going first, then. Any idea where to get the infantry for the group?"

"We're getting some landsers tomorrow at noon, if I remember correctly, so you can send either the Grenadier Guards or a Combined Arms Company from the Einseres Kreuz Akademie. Preferably the former."

"Sure thing."

"Also, if you are going out, please make note of every comms during the night to be rerouted to the chief of the perimeter... whoever it may be."

"Hauptmann Lemnitzer, from the 1st Combined Arms Company, is in charge of the outer perimeter. Captain Gade, from the British Grenadiers, is in charge of the city's perimeter and public order."

"... send everything to those two, depending on where it happens. Keep them busy throughout the night."

"Yessir."

Boomfield finished sorting out the papers, handed him a couple for him to sign indicating the new orders and transport orders for the next morning, gave a brief salute and abandoned the room to hand over the formal instructions, leaving him alone with his security detail chief, Erika Fehring. The girl relaxed a bit as soon as the American's steps faded away, though the gesture was missed by the captain who, struggling with sleep, was still eyeing the map in front of him.

"You know what, Fehring?" He stated out of nowhere, startling his companion. "I'm sure that, if this happened back on Earth, there would be an incredible drama over the girls taking part in the casualties and vehicles recovery, despite them doing the same job as everyone else."

"Doesn't that already happen in Europe, herr kommandant?"

"It does? Ah, right, social media and the new 'openness' of the academies. Sometimes I forget the Incident brought forth this kind of things. On one hand it allowed greater supervision and safety. On the other, it shoved us into the spotlight for unsavoury people to turn into with their love for self-righteousness."

"People like who, if I may ask?"

"The ones responsible for the absolute mountain of shit that's going to rain on us because of this whole Italica fiasco. I can already see the headlines blaming us for civilian casualties during a siege we weren't there to take part of, and due to the men and women that died fighting the Flame Dragon, to finally criticize us for imposing martial law on this city instead of letting the 11-year-old child take control of it during a fucking war. And I'll bet half my salary someone will come up with a story of sexual abuse from some of our men towards her."

"...you really thought about this, huh..."

"Well, when the choice is between extremist far-righters, liberal anarchists, and communists who haven't read Marx and think the USSR was a good regime, is not that hard to see a pattern here and there."

"And which one of those you think is going to come at us?"

"The worst: all three."

"Scheiße."

"It'll all fall into the commanders: me, Boomfield, Ryans, maybe Mauser... oh, and Nishizumi as well, if the jap' press needs a national representative to blame for this mess."

"The Japanese girls didn't have any dead, right? Only a few with light injuries."

"Did they? Huh. They'll probably be hailed as more capable than us then... who knows, they could actually save their asses from public scrutiny with that compared to us."

"Are we that screwed from this?"

"Only as much as you let it get to you, I guess." Karl leaned back on his chair, staring at the ceiling with his arms loosely hanging at his sides. "After all, this is only 'school life', right? If things come to worse, you can always transfer to a civilian school and be done with this whole affair. Yes, the stigma will linger for a while, but it will die sooner or later compared to staying."

Silence filled the room for the next minutes. Karl took the chance to doze off, while Erika remained dutifully in guard duty next to the door. Still, despite her own state of tiredness, her mind was still racing with ideas of what was to come. Karl words left an impression on her, or rather, they reinforced an opinion she already had beforehand, one shared by many of her and the next generation of the Panzer Akademie and of most military academies in Europe. What was that opinion?

Veterans were different.

By 'veterans', they meant the ones that survived and thrived in the so-called Old System. That time when the matches between academies were much loosely regulated and torture was not unheard of, where both officers and soldiers alike fought viciously both against the enemy and themselves, and where one needed to ability to have a cool head in the midst of fierce battles to remain alive while others fell. Thoughts of that time period were always sour and sad to her, why did she need to torture herself remembering that? She almost took part in it, but timely illness and her own age prevented so. Others... were not so lucky.

She needed to distract herself, with anything at hand. Her eyes wandered around the room. They fell on the box that Schmidt used to carry maps and aerial photographs, reading the "Falmart Command" words engraved underneath the symbol of the Academic Coalition. This brought her thoughts back to Alnus, and to what may be happening there.

"Alnus must be in chaos," she muttered.

"Huh?" Karl awoke from his slumber, almost falling to the floor as he lost balance for a second. "You said something?"

"Alnus must be in chaos right now," she repeated. Schmidt raised an eyebrow, as if expecting her to elaborate, but when it became clear that it was an off-hand comment, he spoke instead.

"The chain of command? Surely. The pure radio chaos when the dragon appeared shows how inefficient is to have eight parallel command structures. An officer from the SAS told me they got stuck in traffic for like an hour before the first units could leave Alnus to come help us."

A knock on the door stopped the conversation, and both officers looked at the other with a confused face. Erika approached to answer.

"Who is it?"

"Feldwebel Dussler, ma'am."

"Come in." Schmidt's voice came ahead of Fehring's answer, and so the girl had no choice but to open the door and let the NCO inside. Dussler stepped inside towards the middle of the room, planting himself in front of the captain.

"Hauptmann Schmidt, good to see you."

"Likewise, Dussler. It's been what, a month?"

"Two, to be exact."

"I see."

Erika narrowed her eyes yet didn't take action. She had barely seen this Dussler before, yet he and Schmidt seemed really familiar with each other.

"Did you come with the reinforcements today?"

"Yes, herr Hauptmann. I came with the 1stPanzergrenadier Company."

"The First? Are they here?" Schmidt almost jumped from his seat, but his exhaustiveness made it so only a small movement was possible. "Who's in command now?"

"We arrived a few minutes ago. I was told you ordered all comms to be redirected to the guard officer, so I came here to inform you. As for the commander, Heinrich took over for now."

"Damn right I did... and Heinrich? I guess he can be good when it matters. Either way, good to see you guys back."

"Same here, herr Hauptmann." Both nodded to each other, much to Erika's confusion. From where did they know each other to that point of familiarity? Schmidt always kept a professional relationship with the men under his command and rarely was so avid of speaking, much less when tired, so why there was this distinction? An idea started to grow into her mind. "So, are there any orders for us?"

"Not yet, stay in reserve for now. My own unit is resting from two days of non-stop operations, so I need a rested unit as reserve."

"You can count of us for that, herr Hauptmann."

"I know I can. You are dismissed."

Dussler made a brief salute and abandoned the room, leaving the two officers alone again. Schmidt didn't seem to be going to do anything, so Erika took her chance to ask.

"Herr Hauptmann, was that Feldwebel..."

"He's from my unit, yes."

"You seemed rather close, though..."

"Did we? Guess it's to be expected."

"Did you meet during the Incident?"

Any possible warmth in Schmidt's eyes vanished in less than a second, his eyes back to his usual cold, calculating gaze.

"Why?"

"N-nothing, sir. Just me and my thoughts."

Another knock was heard on the door. Erika looked at Schmidt for confirmation before opening the door, allowing another NCO to appear before them.

"Herr Hauptmann, princess Piña Co Lada has requested an audience with you, as well as Countess Myui."

The Hauptmann muttered a curse under his breath, scrambling lazily to recover his sidearm.

"In five minutes, in the main dining room of the mansion. She's not entering this room to spy on our forces."

"Won't she be angered at the 'downgrade' from the throne room to the dining room?" Asked Erika, raising an eyebrow but reading her MP40.

"Don't know, don't care. Feldwebel, tell the princess that she has the right to one of her knights present as a bodyguard. I will take care of the countess."

"Jawohl!"

"You're dismissed."

.

XXXXXXXXX

.

The dining room sported a large, rectangular table, at which's head was located the seat for the current head of the Formal Clan. A sleepy countess sat there, her eyelids falling every few seconds at the late time for her young body, with two of her worried maids by her side ready to attend to her should her energy fail her and make her fall asleep. Klaine stood over protectively, seeking to protect the little girl from any danger that may befall from the people negotiating.

At both sides of Myui sat two people, both quite young and in the later part of their teenage years. One wore a grey uniform and black boots, with a peaked cap over his blond head, and resting his cheek on his left hand, elbow supporting it from the armrest. The other wore clothes of white and red, with sleeves and boots in black, and a gold diadem around her forehead, keeping her red hair at bay. She was nervously fidgeting her hands in her lap, her gaze cast down but from time to time visiting the war chief in from of her as well as the tall head maid between her and the small, formal (no pun intended) ruler of the lands she was currently in.

'Formal ruler', as she seriously doubted little Myui still had any sort of power even among her own walls. The Academic Coalition strength not only imposed itself by numbers, with more than a thousand men and women carrying their powerful arms and imposing iron elephants on Italica and its surrounding fields making it the largest single force the region has seen since the assembly for the ill-fated expedition to the other side of the GATE, but also in the people's mind, both as the defenders against the bandit army that besieged the city for the last few days, and as the ones that scared away the legendary Flame Dragon away from their homes. Piña had little trouble inferring that, should the Coalition decide to take over the city, a simple command of their leaders would be enough for a civilian movement to overthrow the little countess and impose a military occupation with civilian cooperation, something the Empire consistently had trouble achieving in the past decades in any of its conquests. The only reason Myiu was still in the throne, Piña reasoned, was because a puppet ruler suited better the otherworldly invaders than a full-on conquest.

Behind the two sitting teenagers stood one person each. Behind the grey-wearing blond was an equally grey-wearing blonde, but this one a female of long hair, carrying a dark grey machine in her arms that the locals recognized as one of the marvel weapons these otherworlders used, with her hawkish eyes constantly scanning the redhead and her companion. Behind said redhead was a large man of a darkish skin-color and grey hair, a shadow of many years and even more battles cast over his already dark visage. He stood closer to his companion than the blonde girl did, but that was of no concern to either of the grey uniformed teenagers: they were already informed of his dual role as both bodyguard and advisor, dual role that the blonde girl didn't share.

Their identities, however, were no secret to either of them. The old knight was Grey Co Aldo, the most experienced warrior of the Rose Order of Knights and usual advisor to his leader. The blonde was Erika Fehring, an officer and escort of her commanding officer. In the table, at both sides of the small countess Myui, sat both Piña Co Lada, third princess of the Empire of Sadera, and Karl Schmidt, commanding officer of all academic forces in Italica.

The one who could make her life go away with only a gesture of his hand if Piña read him correctly.

Klaine stepped forwards, motioning towards each leader as she spoke.

"We shall begin the meeting between Piña Co Lada, third princess of the Empire of Sadera, and Hauptmann Karl Schmidt, commander of the Academic Coalition. Countess Myui will act as mediator, but given her current state, I will take the matter into my own hands under her supervision. Each negotiator has the right to one bodyguard, who in the case of Princess Piña will also double as her advisor. Does everyone agree with this ground rules?"

Princess Piña agreed in a low voice. Hauptmann Schmidt simply nodded; a gesture replicated a second later by Myui. It showed the different energy levels each one had.

Piña observed the officer in from of her. Compared to the day before, he looked worse for wear all around. Bags under his eyes, shifting, unfocused gaze and constantly looking like he was supressing a yawn. His escort looked somewhat better, but still tired overall. In stark contrast, she and Grey looked somewhat unkempt, but relatively well-rested. If the exhaustiveness of her captor would work on her favour or against her, Piña didn't know.

"Let's make this quick, 'your highness.'" The mocking of his voice went not unnoticed by the two imperials, yet they refrained from interrupting him. "I assume that whatever you want to talk its related to your capture and status as royal. Is that correct?"

"Y-yes, jaupman..." The sight of an angry emotion flashed over the captain's eyes, but it was gone the moment it appeared. Piña deduced she said the title's wrong, so she opted for an easier route. "Commander Schmidt, while I know the circumstances of our arrest were rightful under your eyes, I beg of you to reconsider our status. I did get carried away trying to save an imperial city from an unknown invader, against any better judgement I might add, yet I hope we can reach an understanding that revokes this imprisonment I and my knights are currently in. We seek to avoid any further misunderstandings with your troops, either from us, or from others."

'Others?' The word picked the interest of the officer, yet he betrayed no emotion about it. "While I have no doubt that you must be regretting your previous decisions, it is a fact that you both tried to attack unarmed and defenceless individuals while also being a high-profile target of our enemy, the Empire of Sadera. Keeping you prisoner and available for interrogation is a much better outcome for us than liberating you just because you think our reasoning, while sound, is too much."

Karl suppressed a growl as he finished talking: he should've got an interpreter. While he had a decent grasp of the language so far, he was far from proficient in it, and it was noticeable. In hindsight, he should've sent someone to get Nishizumi here: she was a good interpreter during the previous day negotiations, after all.

"W-while it may look as such from your perspective, I'm convinced it would do you better to have us free instead of in jail."

"Why?"

"Your troops are tired, and the night is still young. In these circumstances, even a small party could damage your armies, iron elephants or not. Why risk unnecessary confrontation when you can avoid further bloodshed from occurring to your men?"

A metaphorical light bulb went on in Karl's mind. He collected the clues faster than he himself expected.

"There are imperial reinforcements coming here, right?"

Piña's sudden stillness was all the answer he needed. And as she called her knight to discuss any further development, he himself started to think. It wouldn't be an overwhelming force, as such an attack force would give her confidence to wait until rescued by them, but neither would be a small party, as they would attempt an undercover rescue without risking an open fight, with casualties, if any, low for the war students. The group that was approaching would surely have to be of a sizable number of men; enough to be a threat, but not enough to overcome their defences. But, in night-time and with a tired troop, it was as the princess said: it was better to not take risks. The political backlash back in Europe would already be fierce because of the deaths by the Flame Dragon, no need to risk dozens of lives for keeping a prisoner that wasn't able to escape them anyway.

However, at that moment, a knock on the door was heard. Klaine went over, opening it a little to inspect the culprit of interrupting the meeting, then taking a step aside to let the same NCO from earlier in.

"Feldwebel. What happened?"

"The 1st Combined Arms Company spotted a calvary group approaching from the east. Size and type of troop is unknown, but they appear to be heavy calvary with numbers at least in the hundreds."

"You have to be kidding me..." Erika's voice sounded from behind him. He almost jumped on his seat: he'd forgotten about her. Too tired to remember someone outside his field of vision. Instead, he chose to rub his eyes.

"Feldwebel, please fetch me a coffee and pass an order to the 1stPanzergrenadier Company in reserve to get ready. Leave the coffee with them."

"Jawohl!"

"Princess Piña," he spoke. "I have just been informed of a calvary group approaching from the east." Both the princess and her knight stiffened, which confirmed his suspicions. "Let's make a deal, shall we? I think we both have lots to gain from this negotiation... as long as you stay truthful, that is."

He wasn't a sadist, but he also couldn't deny that pleasure it gave him to see the terrified face of the imperials in front of him.

XXXXXXXXXX

The British guards saluted the vehicles at the head of the convoy as their lights shone over the asleep city, scaring the few locals still outside the safety of their homes. Security in the streets had drastically improved over a single night thanks to the presence of the armed men, yet still it was too soon for most citizens to adventure into the darkness of the night. The Japanese tankery students, meanwhile, mostly made themselves aside to allow the convoy to pass through unopposed, opening the way to the eastern gate of the walled city.

Countess Myui was left behind at the request of her head maid, who instructed the other semi-human maids to carry the little girl to her quarters for the rest of the night. Schmidt, riding at the command vehicle of the company, had not opposed to that decision, yet ordered Fehring to take the Recon Teams' command kübelwagen with a driver and the two imperials as passengers, keeping them at gun point. The combat formation passed the iron perimeter made by the 1st Tank Company of theTovarishcheskaya Akademiya and the infantry of the 2nd Reconnaissance Team without issue, the soldiers on foot saluting them as well as the convoy ventured into the darkness outside the stone walls.

Schmidt was clearly comfortable riding with the German company and was in the command vehicle of the group together with the current commander, Oberleutnant Heinrich. As soon as they left the walls they turned to the southeast, constantly checking their direction with compass and the positions of the lights of the city behind. Soon, they spotted some more lights at some height in the distance.

"Berlin 1, this is Diabolos 1. We're approaching your position from the northwest. We'll use visual clues to signal our approach, how copy?, over."

"Diabolos 1, Berlin 1. Visual contact confirmed, approach cleared. Be advised, the unknown calvary group is stationary some clicks to the east, over."

"Copy that, Berlin 1. Diabolos 1 out."

The company formed a round perimeter at the base of the hill, with the command vehicles climbing to the command post at the top. There, the officer in charge received the group, his men keeping surveillance outwards as best as they could during the night.

"Hauptmann Schmidt, welcome to the outer perimeter."

"SITREP?"

"The calvary group established a temporary camp five clicks to the east. I have a platoon watching over them from afar as to not provoke them."

"Any data on their numbers?"

"We have some ideas about them. Mostly heavy calvary, a sizable amount of women in it, last headcount gave us at least around 200 riders."

"Are they all knights?"

"They appear so. All riders spotted appear to be wearing heavy armor, and we haven't been able to identify mounted infantry so far. Nor they appear to carry supply wagons, so we think they either came expecting combat or are the vanguard of a larger army."

"And you wouldn't be wrong at that."

"Does that have to do with the two civvies behind you kept at gunpoint by a murderous and hot blonde?"

"Yes, those two are imperial VIPs. A freaking princess and her bodyguard. We kinda made a deal regarding this."

"Did we?"

"We did just now. Give a minute."

The captain raised an eyebrow but nodded soon after. Schmidt turned around and headed to princess Piña, stopping a few steps from her. Her bodyguard stepped forward, but he calmed him raising his hand in a pacifying manner.

"Princess Piña. The calvary spotted is more than 200 riders, mostly women, no supply carts and no infantry. Does this fit your group?"

"W-what is their banner?"

"Their what?"

"Their banner... I mean, flag."

Schmidt thanked mentally the correction to a word he knew, turning to the guard officer.

"What is the flag of this calvary group?"

"Beats me, but I know is some kind of plant. A flower if I remember correctly."

"Colour?"

"Red, crimson, some bullshit like that. Hard to know in the darkness."

"Princess, the flag is a flower or similar in a red flag. Do you recognize it?"

"Yes, it's them. My personal order, the Rose Order of Knights."

"I see."

"You promise us a deal, remember?"

"I am aware. I am a man of my word, don't worry."

"Sir?" The captain asked, a raised eyebrow at the conversation carried in the local language that he couldn't follow.

"That calvary group is property of the VIP here. She'll be our ticket out of this mess."

"So, what now?"

"Hand me that platoon you have watching them in case things go wrong, although I brough a sizable reserve just in case."

"Understood."

"I also happen to have a new task for your men. You'll need at least three independent squads."

"What for?"

Schmidt smiled faintly.

"Recon."

.

XXXXXXXXX

.

He was looking at the sky when he regained consciousness, lying on the ground. The multiple drops of water falling around him from above filled his field of vision as the sharp whistle made by the recent combat fade from his ears. Hans came into his view from the right side, looking no better than he probably was.

"Peter, get up. This isn't over yet."

Roth raised his hand, grabbing the one offered by his friend. He surveyed the scene as he stood up: two half-tracks, a Russian AT gun and a Maxim machine gun destroyed, with a third half-track immobilized. The place was littered with people, a mix of dead of wounded both virtual and real. So far, only him and Hans were awake and standing with their weapons.

"They should improve the simulation, don't you think?" Muttered Hans, watching over the scene.

"Damn right they should. Not that we can do much about it," he answered, checking his joints tiredly. The AT shot almost killed him, though it did go through his driver, and he needed to see if he was still in top condition.

"How many dead are here?" Asked Hans, grabbing his weapon. Roth shrugged.

"At least four is my bet, probably more."

"Jesus."

"Yeah. It was a brutal fight, albeit a short one."

"Looks like yesterday's battle hit them hard if they are so fanatically defending deep behind their lines."

"I heard they lost the equivalent of two battalions in the encirclement."

"Any sign from command?"

"Nothing. Radios are toast at best, and we're also far away from the main group and of Leutnant Bessel."

"Scheisse. So, what now?"

"Grab a panzerfaust. We're keeping up the fight, shitty rain or not."

"Are we going alone to search for the Russian base? I didn't take you for the adventurous suicidal type."

"Don't tempt me. If we're fucked either way, we might as well do something with it."

"And not going back to our lines?"

"Do you really think we can cross the frontlines in one piece when the Russians are alerted by the massacre yesterday and the fact a goddamn battalion slipped through their lines unnoticed?"

"Touché. Lead the way."

The two students grabbed a panzerfaust each and resumed their way, leaving the wrecked group behind. A long while later of walking, they found what they were searching: a large military base with the Russian tricolour flag waving up high.

"Well... it's bigger than I expected. How did we miss this all these days?" Asked Roth, surveying the scene. Hans was much less enthusiastic about it.

"It's not like we've deployed this deep behind their lines until now."

"True, but you would think the visual clues would tell you something."

"To be fair, we've spent half our nights defending from surprise raids from the shock troops."

"Right. Remember what happened to the first platoon?"

"Rodrig's platoon? Yeah. Their lieutenant got fucked over by a T-70. Lucky bastard will get out of this early."

"That 'lucky bastard' lost his leg."

"I meant what I said."

They observed the place in silence, watching over patrols and movements of the Russian troops. From time to time a new group would leave the base to a place unknown, but both had an idea of why. Their suspicions were confirmed later when, fade in the distance, a faint barrage of artillery was heard.

"Looks like action started." Remarked Roth, looking over the horizon trying to spot the lights from the explosions. "Wanna bet on the chance of it being Hauptmann Hausser's kampfgruppe?"

"I want to keep my money, thank you."

"Well, it'll make our job easier. So, what's the plan?"

"You don't have one?! It was your idea to come here!"

"Lemme see, who's the higher rank here? Oh, looks like it's you. Go do your job, Unteroffizier."

"Fuck off."

"Right after this." Roth rolled his eyes at Hans' answer, focusing his gaze back onto the Russian base. "So, any idea?"

"Get in, destroy a couple tanks, make as much chaos as we can and run away. We lack much equipment to make a bigger fuss and we'll be found out immediately if we try either way. After the party's over we can steal a truck and make a run for it and regroup with the rest."

"Sounds good to me. I'll take care of the tanks."

"Here, grab my panzerfaust. Give me your grenades, I'll blow up some supply depot."

"Aren't those on the other side?"

"Yes, each will be on its own. Not much to do about it."

"Well, we're fucked. Good luck."

"You too."

.

.

.

Two tanks destroyed, a destroyed ammo depot, a disabled truck, and both Germans locked up. That was the result of their little incursion on the Russian base.

After the initial panic subsided, both Germans were quickly spotted and captured by the guards. Both surrendered, which didn't prevent them from being beaten up and locked into underground cells by their captors, shackled and interrogated.

Which, when dealing with Russians, almost always meant torture.

"Peter Roth, rank Unteroffizier, armoured recon battalion." A Russian sergeant muttered under his breath, as he walked over the table at the side of the interrogation room. "A pity that you don't want to talk. I'll have you know we are not kind on the stubborn, and even less on those of recon."

"I already told you everything! I know nothing more!"

"We'll see about that." The sharp snap of a leather belt, his interrogator first choice, was clearly heard all over the room. Roth gulped. "Because I also happen to need a little bit of fun in this hell hole of a match."

.

.

.

Roth didn't know how much time had passed. It could be a few hours, or maybe days. Down there, the perception of time was lost among the grey walls of his cell.

After a couple tries his interrogators gave up on him and left him hoping he would break on his own. However, his body had taken quite the beating after several days of active combat, and he was far from his best state. He was mentally preparing for his silent death in that forgotten cell when a small bang down the hallway made him raise his head, although he couldn't see anything past the door in front of him. Hurried footsteps were heard on the other side, raising his hopes, until finally a soldier in a familiar grey uniform opened the door, aiming down his sights. However, as soon as he saw him, he turned around and shouted quietly.

"Here's another one!"

Breaking the handcuffs in poor condition with a single shot, the soldier took him out of the cell and down the hallway, were many more prisoners were being led away by the infiltrators. Just outside the door, a Russian truck with the balkenkreuz painted over the sides was waiting for them. The rescued prisoners were shoved inside and drove outside, while their liberators stayed behind until another truck appeared. On the way out, Roth managed to see the entire Russian base in chaos, with lights shining bright and sirens roaring loudly as a state of alarm, much larger than what he and Hans managed to create, was declared. He had no idea what had happened, but whatever it was, it was big.

"Don't worry, you are safe," a voice told him. Roth blinked, realizing he was no longer among the Russian buildings. He was among German troops, in one of the hills surrounding the base. Was he daydreaming that hard? Still, it was no time for questions. As with most rescued prisoners, he was shoved inside an ambulance truck and sent away, not allowed to ask questions or see anything else. Time was running short, apparently. Still, just before the fabric covering the back of the truck fell into place, he caught a glimpse of a pale face with blond hair giving orders.

XXXXXXXXX

"Roth. Roth! Wake up, damnit!"

Peter Roth opened his eyes and jumped from his resting place, confusedly looking around trying to figure out his surroundings. It took him a while to remember where he was, and another, longer while to remember what he was doing in an old house near a mansion quite literally in another world, far from home. Taking deep breaths, he calmed himself before looking at Hans, who was staring worried sick from his own bunk.

"Ha... ha... what... happened?" He asked between breaths, normalizing his heartbeat. "Can a man get a good night's sleep?"

"I highly doubt it was a good sleep if you kept moving around with ragged breathing and sweating buckets at a time. I you want to sleep again, you might want to change your clothes. And the sheets as well for that matter."

"Huh?"

Hans pointed to the bed, making Roth saw the large sweat stain in it. Patting his back, he also noticed the wet cloth sticking to his body. Taking a deep breath, he released in a slow exhale as he shook his head.

"Shit..." he finally said.

"What were you dreaming of?"

"..."

"Come on, Roth, I've known you for years. Something's bothering you, but if you don't want to talk about it, is fine. We can sort this out when we go back to Europe..." Hans took his hand to his chin, deep in thought. "Is it because of the Incident?"

"...yeah."

"Shit. That was a little over a year ago, right? Talk about a bloody mess. And we weren't even there when the worst happened."

Hans took his hands to his head, elbows on his knees, while Roth looked outside the window the night scene that was the medieval merchant city. Despite not being modern times, there was still enough light to see the main buildings, thanks to the spotlights set up by the academic forces to keep vigilance in and out of the city.

"Nobody seems to want to talk about it either. Almost like they don't want us to know what happened."

"Nor does it seem they want to relive it, if you ask me."

"That too."

The two stayed in silence for a while, each deep in their thoughts, when suddenly Hans raised his head.

"It's time to find some closure about that."

"How? We're in another world, a long distance away from the academy. How can we find anything related to the Incident here?"

"The Incident may've been away from here, but the people remain. There were thousands of people in the academy, Roth, there must be someone here who was there and saw it all happen. Can't you remember someone?"

"I don't think so... I know that Major Hausser was there, of course, but she's back at Alnus. Major Weiss is also back in Alnus, that bloke from the panzertruppe is dead and let's not get started on trying to find someone from the high command to talk with us... wait."

"What?"

"I remember someone who was there who may talk with us. He's also here in Italica."

"Really? Who?"

"Herr Hauptmann Schmidt, from Downfall 0. I saw him on one of the hills around the Russian base, back when they got us out."

"What are we waiting for? Let's go!"

"Right behind you."

On their way to the Formal Mansion, however, they met a British outpost who told them bad news: the Hauptmann had left a while ago to the outer perimeter, and the martial law imposed on the city made it difficult for them to convince the guards to let them wait inside the mansion for matters unrelated to the current state of things. Still, they let them go to the HQ nonetheless with only a warning, and so the two enlisted made their way to the centre of the city, willing to wait for their overall commander to return. However...

"Rossiya – svjašcennaja naša deržava,

Rossiya – ljubimaja naša strana.Mogučaja volja, velikaja slava –Tvojo dostojanje na vse vremena!"

Both Germans stopped dead in their tracks, Hans rubbing his eyes while Roth simply sighed heavily, already too used at the sight.

"Are... are those..."

"Yes, Hans, they're Petrakov and his crew drunkenly singing the Russian anthem in the street."

"But... are they dancing?"

"They are trying to, at the very least." Roth shrugged and resumed walking, leaving the tank crew behind. "Just ignore them, the quicker you get used to their manners, the better you can endure it."

"Is this a normal thing for them?" Asked the Obergefreiter, catching up with his superior.

"Pretty much. At least as far as bloody Finland is concerned."

"And what about the girl in their team? Will she be alright?"

"You're joking, right? She's Petrakov's little sister. He will beat the crap out of the dickhead trying to make a move on her if she doesn't shoot him up first."

"That makes a very compelling argument, to be honest..."

The two made their way to the Formal Mansion where, as predicted by the British outpost, entry was denied for them. Refusing to end their pursuit of answers there, the pair took a seat in the entrance stairs' steps and kept a chat in low volume, as to not annoy the guards, while they waited for the commander to return.

Their prayers were answered as the headlights of a convoy appeared down the street, finally revealing some German vehicles approaching the mansion. Two motorcycles arrived first, then followed by two kübelwagens, one of which carried the officer they were waiting for. The rest of the convoy started to fill in the place, and soon the rest of the vehicles were circling around the mansion and creating a perimeter around it at the lack of a place to store the vehicles. Schmidt stepped down, exchanged a few words with the commander of the company and turned around towards the door, Oberleutnant Fehring leading princess Piña and one of her knights behind him. Both Roth and Hans stood up to attention as the officers walked by, the former calling them out.

"Hauptmann Schmidt. A moment if you may. I need to ask you something."

"If it's not related to security, operations or urgent matters, save it for tomorrow," was Schmidt's reply, barely acknowledging the two. "I want to finish this and go to sleep."

"It has to be now," insisted Roth, following the officer to the insides of the building. "And you are the only person here who can answer it properly."

Schmidt sighed heavily, rubbing the bridge of his nose.

"What is it? Spit it out quickly."

Roth steeled his gaze, embracing himself for the reaction of his superiors.

"What exactly happened in Kaliningrad a year ago?"

Schmidt froze in his tracks. Fehring, a stretch ahead with the two imperials, turned around violently, raising her gun towards the two soldiers. She was stopped by a raised hand of the Hauptmann, who slowly raised his head and turned around, a cold gaze set on his eyes as he surveyed the two enlisted up and down.

"Oberleutnant Fehring, take the VIPs to the dining room."

"But-"

"Now."

"... yessir."

The girl begrudgingly turned around and told, in broken words of the local language, the princess and her bodyguard to move ahead, following them close behind. Schmidt waited until they were out of sight before addressing them once more, his voice as icier as his eyes.

"What. Was. That?"

Roth gulped. Schmidt hadn't misheard the question; he was giving him chance to back down. It was clear from his reaction that it was a theme not welcomed by his superior officer. Still, he had come for a purpose, and he wasn't planning on leaving until he got an answer, whatever it might be.

"I said..." he looked aside. Hans gave him an encouragement nod. He straightened up his posture and faced the captain. "I asked, what happened in the Kaliningrad Incident of a year ago? More specifically, fourteen months back."

Schmidt didn't answer, keeping his eyes fixated on the two soldiers. He stood there for a while, not speaking, until he suddenly turned on his heels and headed towards the entrance, followed by Roth and Hans.

"Herr Hauptmann, you can't run away from this. I know you where there, you have to tell us what happened!"

"He's right, herr Hauptmann! We were there as well, even if only for a few days! We have a right to know, don't we?!"

Schmidt opened the main doors, attracting the attention of most people present. Without skipping a beat, he approached a group of soldiers and pointed to both members of the 7th Recon Team.

"Obereldwebel, escort these two out of the mansion's area. Refuse them entry if they insist on getting inside again."

"Jawohl!"

"So, you are kicking us out? Is that how it is?" Roth's voice had venom, yet Schmidt made no signal of acknowledging it.

"I owe you both nothing. If you so want to know so much what happened, ask your seniors in the Aufklärung-Abteilung back in Alnus... if you dare show your face there, that is."

Roth growled under his breath, begrudgingly walking to the main avenue that led away from the mansion. Hans followed him suit, a team of grenadier of the first company keeping tabs at them until they reached the perimeter, leaving them be outside. Schmidt, arms crossed, stood next to the door until the Untefeldwebel and the Obergefreiter arrived outside the perimeter, then turned around and disappeared inside the building. Roth snorted in disdain, turning around, meeting face to face with a familiar figure.

"Roth?"

"Kommandant Nishizumi." He and Hans immediately adopted an attention position, taking their right to their respective temples. "Sorry you had to see this."

Miho, who was accompanied by her elder sister Maho, looked over the mansion and the German guard around it not without a small hint of fear. She shifted her gaze from her two underlings, to the guards, to the mansion and back at the former, confusion growing on her face and replacing the scary emotion she had beforehand.

"I was planning on getting my orders for tomorrow, but... what happened?"

Hans nudged Roth, the hint clear: don't spill the beans. However, Roth had grown fond of the youngest Nishizumi, and considered her a capable and trustworthy commander. As such, he had no qualm about sharing with her what troubled them both. However, a quick glance at the guard ring around the mansion made him remember where he was, so the first thing to do was get away from there.

"It's a long story. Let's go for a drink first."

.

XXXXXXXXX

.

"There was a time..." began Roth, the group sitting around a table in a decent-looking bar, the only establishment allowed to operate under curfew on the condition that it tended to coalition members. "When the duels between the European military academies, which are much different than yours back in Japan I might add, were much more raw and violent. It reached the point of hopelessness from time to time."

"These duels, thanks to the purpose of the academies, always sought to emulate war one way or another," added Hans, taking over while Roth took a sip from his drink. "Now they do so with sensors and modern things like laser and BBs, together with protective gear. Before, though? Such niceties were not considered even elementary for teenagers battling with guns."

"You say your matches were more raw and violent," repeated Maho, serious gaze fixed on the Germans. "How so?"

"Several things," answered Hans. "For one, guns used metal pellets or specially made less-than-lethal munitions. The shells fired by tanks and artillery had a higher explosive charge in them as well, and let's not get started on the fact that referees were far from omni-present. It was usual for matches to end with a few real killed and wounded, and there was an average of around a hundred or so deaths per year in all of Europe, quietly slipped under the rug."

"Really? That dangerous?" Miho asked, incredulity showing off her face and voice.

"Yes, unfortunately. European academies' matches tried to emulate war in the literal sense, including the traumas that war carries. Sure, it helped that almost everybody made it back at the end to share experiences, but you still were trapped inside a foxhole with an artillery barrage destroying everything around you. Don't get me started on the tanks that caught fire."

"There was a system, supposedly," added Roth. "'Virtual' killed and wounded would be retired by the referees from time to time or when requested, some units had special sensors that were not very accurate, and academic commanders had way too much leeway to make decisions for their own good." He sighed, looking at his glass with melancholy. "Duels could go on for days without a winner being announced. It was not pretty to lay down for the day only to be awoken by a Russian raid in the middle of the night."

"Also," intervened Hans, stretching his arms with a grimace. "As long as international treaties weren't broken, you could torture prisoners for intel. The thing is, nobody was there to oversee that crucial part, so torture was actually quite common, just not often with permanent sequels. Think of leather belts instead of whips and fire." He shook his head, as if whipping a memory from his mind. "This was often done by frustrated NCOs who wanted critical intel to turn the tide or win an amazing victory, increasing their chances for a promotion. Some just wanted to fill in the steps of Heydrich and Beria, though they mostly just met their fate instead."

Roth rolled his eyes at Hans' last comment, but nodded, nonetheless.

"That... that is horrible!" Miho's answer, accompanied by her hands smashing on the table, made both Germans grin to themselves, thankful of their superior's worry. They wiped their grins soon, though, thanks to a timely glance from her older sister, who took it upon herself to continue the conversation.

"While I can certainly see why some of you may not have much issue with this war if that's the case, I still have questions." Both nodded, while Miho went back to sitting properly after apologizing to the nearby clients. "By how you describe it, this is all in the past, yet you sound familiar with this. When did things change?

"About a year ago, give or take two months," this time Roth answered, taking the lead. "A sudden and large movement caused a wave of changes to be implemented in the match system, including the entry of better and more sensors, better surveillance, more presence of the referees, better designed ammunition and a rehaul of the rules, among other profound changes. Before, nationalism was common, and members of some academies could reach the point of a rivalry to the death. That is slowly transforming into healthy sportsmanship instead, while academies that already had good relations are forming alliances of sort for larger matches to occur, revitalizing a dying cooperation born from NATO and the Warsaw Pact back in the day. For all intents and purposes, this is way better than what came before."

A long silence imposed itself over the table, the four students each deep in its own thoughts slowly sipping their drinks away from existence. The Nishizumi sisters were busy piercing everything together, while the boys were remembering their time in those violent days.

"We were newbies, you know?" Said Roth, interrupting the awkward silence. "Hans and me. We had like three months at most before the system change. Only three months, and we thought we knew hell. That, until we remembered there were those who lived in it longer, and others who thrived in it. It was a nesting ground for sadists, bullies, and ambitious people with hunger for power. Many were washed away or expelled with the system change, or kicked up to positions where they couldn't do any real damage until graduation."

"People who lived in it longer..." repeated Miho carefully, like tasting a bad product in her mouth.

"Like whom?" Asked Maho instead, brow furrowed as she analysed the two.

"Kapitán Khoakin Petrakov, for example. He made quite a name for himself back in the Old System, always jumping from one expel attempt to the other while winning the support of the enlisted under him, who always threatened with rioting if anything happened to him." Explained Hans with a groan. "He was quite famous for overdoing the torture of prisoners and his crazy, yet effective fighting style. He would follow orders, alright, just don't expect him to always fight conventionally."

"I always felt like he had a couple of loose screws," declared Miho, nodding. "But he seems like a nice person overall."

""How?"" The simultaneous question was dropped curtesy of another glance from Maho, Roth hawking while Hans kept talking. "Anyway, Petrakov was in the Old System almost for two whole years. He's in his third year now."

"Third year? But I thought he had our same age..."

"Our academies are four-year courses, but honestly, what matters more is the rank and experience. Your current year only matters to the ministry of education, and for the graduation date in case you have a specific goal."

"I see..." Miho toyed with her glass for a while, looking at the liquid move around by her actions. "Anyone else we know of?"

"Herr Hauptmann Schmidt was there, back in the Old System." Roth spitted the words almost with venom, which did not go unnoticed by the Japanese girls. "Same as Petrakov, he was already a captain before the system change, probably promoted right before the change."

"Now that you mention it, it kinda makes sense..." Maho muttered. "He seemed way too fine with all the bloodshed in this world to not have previous experience or something similar. We can barely stomach fighting in a village, yet he orders the killing on hundreds like it's nothing."

"I have a question." Miho raised slightly her hand, gathering the attention of the rest of the table. "While this is very enlightening, what does this have to do with the argument you were having with Hauptmann Schmidt back in the Formal Mansion?"

"That's the thing we were heading to," answered Hans, sighing. "The reason for the change from the Old System to the New System."

"It happened a little over a year ago, and while it is known by many names, it has one in particular that is frowned upon. That being:

""The Kaliningrad Incident.""

Both Germans spoke at the same time with the same defeated energy and venom in their voice, and silence once again engulfed the table for the next few seconds.

"The Kaliningrad Incident...?" Maho repeated the worlds slowly, trying to connect them to any event that occurred in the last year. She tried to keep up with European news regarding tankery schools, or at least the German ones, but thanks to the language barrier and the lack of much information thanks to the influence of the military in them, plus the difference in doctrine and objectives between the Japanese and the Europeans, she often came up short.

"Doesn't ring a bell here," said Miho on her own, confirming her thoughts on it being a somewhat dark event regarding information.

"It is to be expected," Roth explained. "They tried to downplay it as much as possible when it happened, with news only going around specialized circles and government officials for a long while. The incident occurring in Russia helped a lot with this. To this day, much information is kept in classified documents in government ministries."

"Peter and I," Hans stopped due to the confused faces the girls were showing. He understood the problem immediately. "Roth's name is Peter." Both nodded, allowing him to continue. "As I was saying, Peter and I were part of the academy's armoured recon battalion, the Aufklärung-Abteilung. We were part of a mission to discover the location of one of the Russian bases. Things went bad as soon as we separated from the main group."

"It started to rain soon after we left the main group, reducing visibility," Roth continued. "Despite that, we went on with the mission. After a while, a Russian position with an AT gun and machine guns ambushed us, wiping out the group. We lost the three half-tracks and most of our men in the counterattack, but we manage to wipe-out the outpost. Hans and I kept walking forwards, finding the Russian base we were searching for, planning to stir up some chaos before leaving. Unfortunately, thing didn't go quite as planned, and we were both captured."

"They tortured us for a while before letting us be, happy with us dying from our wounds and lack of treatment. Luckily, special forces from our side infiltrated the base and helped us escape just in time before our forces stormed the place, but by that point we were away in an ambulance truck, missing the action. Whatever happened next, we don't know about it."

"Before leaving, I managed to catch a glimpse of Hauptmann Schmidt in a nearby hill, leading part of the troops. That's why I know he was there, and that he has the answers that we're looking for. Petrakov could've been a useful source as well, but his academy didn't participate in the Incident, and I don't know of any other student of the academy here in Italica that took part of the Incident and was in a high enough position to grasp what the hell happened globally. But, as you saw, he wasn't in a mood to talk about it."

The two sisters remained in silence once again, digesting the words of the two soldiers. Little by little, as more information came out, it all started to make sense to them. Yet, there was still the elephant in the room, and it was Miho who decided to address it:

"But..." she began, gathering the attention of the two soldiers. "Why is it important to know what happened there?"

Roth's answer cut into her soul like a sharp knife, completely changing the perspective the sisters had about the European academies:

"Because two thousand people dying in a day is not an accident at all."

.

.

.

A/N: It took the better part of a week, but it's finally done. I must say, for a chapter that had around six thousand words, from which I erased a few parts, reaching almost eleven thousand words is quite nice. It does allow a greater room to breathe and digest the events that happen. Also, did I mention how I hate Wattpad formatting when copying from a Word document?

So, relevant changes in the chapter compared to the Spanish version? We actually have significant changes, unlike last chapter. Erika Fehring was limited to her role as security detail chief; the Kaliningrad Incident is explored only by Roth and Hans, leaving Schmidt to express the sequels it had on him, including the appearance of his old unit; the meeting of Schmidt and Piña was remade from scratch, with different dealings and proposals made; and Myui takes a more prominent role with her sole presence. Other changes include greater thoughts about the Academic Coalition status with the local populace.

Among other things, the start of the chapter was reorganized to make for a better telling of the different units operating in Italica and their capabilities, while getting more out of Boomfield, the executive exchange officer of Schmidt. We also skip Schmidt and Fehring's rambling about the Incident in the last part, which was quite nonsensical and a leftover of Fehring's original role in the story.

Overall, this feels like a different chapter with the same story. The final product is the same: we stablish Italica's state after the battle against the bandits and the dragon, Piña is liberated and the Rose Order of Knights arrive, Roth and Hands confront Schmidt and explain the Old System to Miho and Maho. Yet the execution improved a lot, which is quite nice.

I don't have much to say, except that I'll probably focus on other projects for now. Either way, read ya later,
RedSS.