86 - Volume 5 - Chapter 3

CHAPTER 3 

DEAF TO THE SONGBIRDS’ LAMENT 

Catastrophe struck all too suddenly. 

“Tch…!” 

As their armored transport vehicle was advancing deep into the contested zones, Shin picked up on that sound and raised his eyes. They were currently en route to the Dragon Fang Mountain capture operation. The United Kingdom military’s armored corps had commenced the diversion operation the night prior, successfully drawing out the Legion’s units, forming a gap on the battlefield. 

In the distance, a new group of Legion was on the move. But the route they were headed on was odd. They moved neither in the direction of the enticement force nor in the direction of the Strike Package. The moment Shin realized an indistinct, artificial howling was mixed in with those forces, he was filled with an ominous premonition and activated his Para-RAID. 

There was no logic to the warning bell that went off in Shin’s mind, only the warrior instincts honed by years on the battlefield. 

“All units, hold your position. Raiden, you’re still at the base, right? Stay where you are.” 

“Ngh, roger.” 

“Captain Nouzen? What’s…?” 

They were a brigade: a line of several hundred vehicles. Along with Raiden, who’d stayed behind to secure the rear, there were still several squadrons left dozens of kilometers behind, waiting for their time to head out of the Revich Citadel Base. 

Raiden realized something was wrong and replied immediately. On the other hand, Lena wasn’t used to Shin’s ability, and her reaction was frustratingly slow. The Legion forces who were supposedly being stampeded and destroyed by the United Kingdom’s enticement force were turning the tide and pushing back. Legion were moving in from the depths of the territories, closing in on the United Kingdom’s forces, and beginning invasions of the United Kingdom’s own territories. 

They were feigning retreat and circumventing the United Kingdom’s forces to invade. 

We were the ones being baited! 

As if matching the mechanical wailing, the Legion’s screaming picked up in volume, coming from a position distant from any unit, be it the United Kingdom’s or the Strike Package. A shout reminiscent of a Skorpion’s, but one Shin knew belonged to a different type. 

And as that all-too-quick shout drowned everything out for an instant, Shin futilely traced its trajectory—delivering a warning that came far too late. 

“It’s pathetic that we failed to respond in time despite your warning, but…I’m sorry, Nouzen. The Revich Citadel Base has fallen.” 

They had shut themselves in the depths of the command ward, which was now dark due to their having shut off most of the electricity. This was the Revich Citadel Base’s underground command ward. It was in the fourth underground level—the lowest one—and had been built to be partially independent from the other wards. Vika spoke from the command post situated at the center. 

The composite sensors set up on the outer circumference of the canopy in the highest level of the base were still functional. The command personnel eyed the luminescent view of the snowy scenery before them with strained expressions. The Processors stood silently in steel-blue uniforms, as did the silver-haired girl clothed in Prussian blue who served as their master. 

The few base personnel and maintenance crew members who had survived were sealing the corridors’ bulkhead partitions while the Handlers stayed behind in the control room. 

“To be more exact, they wrenched the base’s functions away from us. The entire surface sector and eighty percent of the underground sector are under enemy control. The only parts under our control are the command ward and the eighth underground hangar, the lowest one. Currently, we’re holing up in the command ward with all our lockdown mechanisms activated… Oh, all the Federacy soldiers successfully evacuated to the ward as well, so you have nothing to worry about in that regard.” He added the last part after remembering he was speaking to a soldier affiliated with the Federacy. 

Shin, who was currently on the snowy plains ten kilometers away from the citadel base’s walls, replied without a hint of discomposure. 

Being an Esper with an ability to pinpoint the locations of all the Legion on the battlefield, he already had some grasp on the situation, but he hid his anxiety regarding the survival of his comrades still in the base. 

“It’s as much my blunder as it is yours. It never occurred to me that they’d be able to launch the Phönix given the Zentaur’s estimated specs.” 

Even with that warning, what attacked them was undetectable to both the radar and their optical sensors, so their inability to do anything was perhaps unavoidable. Shin and Vika weren’t directly linked in the chain of command, and that brief lapse in communications brought about ruin. 

It apparently landed atop the canopy protecting the base. The set antiair/anticannon radar failed to detect its presence, and so antiair autocannons could only fire blind barrages in odd directions. When those were destroyed, the alarm finally went off, and shortly after that, the hatch connecting the canopy to the observation tower was ruptured from outside. It invaded, and the base’s defensive forces were ordered to dispatch to the observation tower upon receiving news of the attack, where they encountered it—and were one-sidedly slaughtered. 

It traveled freely through the citadel base’s cramped corridors since no one was capable of seeing its form. Picking up on the situation, Vika operated the installation’s buckshot mines manually and successfully stripped it of its optic camouflage, revealing its shape. Within the flock of destroyed Eintagsfliege appeared the form of a black Legion. 

The High-Mobility type, Phönix. 

At that point, the observation tower had already fallen. The base’s defensive forces were cut in half, and taking advantage of the ensuing chaos, Legion airborne forces descended on the canopy, whose autocannons had been destroyed, and began invading the watchtowers. 

Upon receiving those reports, Vika ordered that all surface and underground sectors, with the exception of the command ward, be abandoned. The corridors leading to the surface were systematically blockaded via bulkhead partitions, and all surviving personnel and Feldreß were evacuated to the command ward and eighth hangar respectively, entering a state of protracted war with the Legion unit, which suppressed and took over the rest of the base. 

After hearing the summary of the situation, Shin sighed. 

“What the Sirins encountered during our earlier recon run was an enemy recon squad… If there’s a suitable path to invade the Dragon Fang Mountain base, it means it can also serve as an invasion path for them. I…should have picked up on that. Not to mention our current situation.” 

A single-soldier invasion rush on the enemy base, executed by way of the Zentaurs’ launching. It was fundamentally an impossible tactic. The cruising speed would be too slow, and the gliders would greatly increase the unit’s silhouette, making it easier to detect. In addition, the Zentaur’s launching limit was an estimated ten tons… Which meant it was capable of launching only self-propelled mines and Ameise, which wouldn’t be able to seize control of a heavily protected base. 

But if the Zentaurs were to launch the Phönix, which was lighter than the Ameise, possessed more combat potential than the Grauwolf, and employed the Eintagsfliege to reflect all light and electronic waves…it would result in the perfect surprise attack. 

It was an unprecedented assault. Yet, all this information was known beforehand. They could have predicted this. 

“—Analyzing and predicting the enemy’s tactics is my…the commander’s job. You shouldn’t let this bother you, Shin.” 

A thin, silver-bell-like voice joined the conversation, and Shin found himself gasping inaudibly. Lena. He’d only just heard that everyone had evacuated in time, but… 

“This shouldn’t be bothering you either right now, Milizé… And I get the feeling this is something none of us could have done anything about. It may have been technically possible for the Legion to do this, but this base doesn’t have enough tactical or strategic value for the Legion to attempt it, and neither Nouzen, myself, nor you have lived through a war where one is attacked from the sky.” 

The Legion didn’t employ aerial weapons. And while Shin and his group, who knew nothing but the war with the Legion, understood that the sky could be a route of invasion, they had never truly perceived it as such. And those who did remember a war that made use of aerial weaponry—the regular soldiers—died in the war. 

After heaving a single sigh, Vika continued. 

“Now, then. Since you can hear them, I imagine you have some grasp of the situation, but I’ll explain it. Firstly, there likely won’t be any further launching of Legion airborne troops. Our military artillery annihilated the Zentaurs, and all other possible launch points are within their range. They’d be taken out as soon as they were to launch any more forces.” 

According to the Federacy military’s estimates, the Zentaur’s launching range was an estimated thirty kilometers, which just fit into the howitzers’ effective firing range. 

“Next is our army’s status. The enticement force we sent into the Legion territories was intercepted and wiped out. On the other hand, the Legion forces that invaded our territories are currently being stalled by divisions of our remaining corps.” 

Shin furrowed his brow. 

“…Wiped out?” 

Even if they had been complacent due to the advantage of strong defensive facilities and an advantageous geographical position, these were still the soldiers of an army that had pushed back the Legion for over a decade. They weren’t so weak that they would be wiped out simply because they fell into a trap. 

“According to the final transmission the commanders who encountered them sent, the Legion had a concentration of heavyweight types hidden in the depths of their territories. They encountered an armored unit consisting of Löwe and Dinosauria.” 

Shin closed his eyes involuntarily. Dinosauria, of all things. This type was a metal monstrosity with an immensely powerful 155 mm tank turret and a massive frame with a weight exceeding a hundred tons, coupled with unreasonable mobility. If they were up against a group of those machines, which no Feldreß in existence could match up to…Shin could easily imagine those forces being crushed like ants. 

“They were likely mixed in with the supply lines from the rear and gradually switched places with the lightweight types. Which would mean the Legion have been planning this operation for a long time.” 

Shin’s ability allowed him to trace the numbers and positions of the Legion but not to distinguish between their types. This meant that if they were switching their forces deep within the Legion’s territories under the Eintagsfliege’s jamming, it would be impossible for him to know. 

“Military headquarters was informed about the base’s situation, and they have reserve forces prepared to set out at any time, but the corps themselves are surrounded by the enemy, too. Apparently, it’ll take at least five days for them to break through the enemy and reach the base.” 

“………” 

In other words, the situation was that both the Revich Citadel Base and the Strike Package were currently cut off from their friendly forces, isolated, and surrounded by the enemy. 

“…I’ve got bad news from our end, too. The Legion armored units that wiped out the enticement force are headed for Revich. Their numbers are estimated to be eight thousand. What’s left of the enticement force is trying to stall them, but they won’t last long. Even adding in the time they’d need to regroup and restock…they’ll reach the base tomorrow.” 

Vika heaved a deep, utterly unpleasant sigh. 

“Yes, I figured this might be the case… Your ability’s tendencies to smother any prospects of wishful thinking can be unpleasant at times like this. A Cassandra that can only make ominous but accurate prophecies will only be met with hatred and scorn.” 

“The Legion in the base right now number roughly one thousand…” 

“Enough.” 

Shin ignored Vika’s dejected plea and continued. 

“I think most of them are self-propelled mines, but…what else was there? Just Ameise?” 

Those were the only types they’d seen being launched in. 

“As far as what the cameras that still function can see, yes… But we’ve confirmed they’ve also launched in multiple impact-buffered containers. We don’t know what they contain at present. If we’re allowed to be optimistic, they’re just ammunition and energy packs.” 

“No way of sending out scouts, is there…?” 

“Sorry. The upper underground sectors are under Legion watch, and any scout would be taken out before they could make it to the surface.” 

“How long until they break through the command ward’s partitions?” 

“They may be old, but they’re still made for siege. You’ve got nothing to worry about…is what I’d like to say, but we’ll hold on for now.” 

“We’ve got the Brísingamen squadron and the four squadrons led by First Lieutenant Shuga with us. They should be able to hold the fort… Don’t worry.” 

Hearing Lena be concerned for him when she was in no position to worry about anyone else seemed odd to Shin. She and the others back at the base were the ones who were in the most danger right now. 

“I understand the situation… So what do we do?” 

Vika scoffed. 

“Isn’t it obvious…? There’s only one thing to do.” 

Shin felt a cold smile spill from the other side of the Resonance. A slightly bitter smile, mixed with equal parts fear and ferocity. 

“We hold a siege battle.” 

Owing to the Strike Package’s armored unit’s nature of being a dispatch unit and to most of its combatants being Eighty-Six who were familiar with fighting only in a squadron-size force, it was divided into a special structure of fourteen battalions, consisting of squadrons as its basic units. 

The battalion captains were, excluding Shin, who served as the total commander, the fourteen most veteran members, including the Spearhead squadron’s lower-ranking officers and Bernholdt, the oldest noncommissioned officer. The Sirins’ representative was Lerche, and on the other side of the Resonance were Lena, Vika, and Raiden. The battalion captains had set up camp in a forest overlooking the Revich Citadel Base and were currently in an armored vehicle’s container, which served as an impromptu conference room. 

In hindsight, Shin realized that Anju and Dustin becoming stranded three days ago had been a stroke of luck for them. Searching for the two of them had delayed their maintenance time, and as such, their departure had been postponed from early this morning. If that hadn’t happened, Raiden’s group would have left the base before the Legion’s attack, making it harder to defend the side that remained besieged. Also, their noticing the trap had allowed them to disable the other ones ahead of time and prevent their path of retreat from crumbling behind them. 

Shin looked over a map of the battlefield laid out on a collapsible table and overlaid with a transparent cover, which detailed both their positions and the enemy’s, as the fourth squadron’s captain, Second Lieutenant Yuuto Crow, whispered, “…This is the worst possible situation.” 

Their main base had fallen, and they were isolated in the middle of enemy territory. Friendly reinforcements would arrive only in five days at the earliest, and the enemy’s reinforcements would arrive sooner than that… 

“According to your recon, the Legion’s reinforcements number eight thousand troops, set to arrive tomorrow at the latest… Which means tomorrow we’ll be pressed between the base’s walls and two heavily armored units of eight thousand Löwe and Dinosauria.” 

“Our forces number six thousand, counting the Alkonosts. And on top of that, the Phönix even Captain Nouzen couldn’t beat is sitting inside the base…” Second Lieutenant Reki Michihi’s tone was rife with suppressed anxiety as he continued, “Since they’ve got us beat in numbers, we should avoid fighting them on two fronts… Should we set out to engage the enemy’s heavily armored units and try to destroy them or force a retreat?” 

“Quite the opposite, Second Lieutenant Michihi. We can’t focus on intercepting the heavily armored units.” 

Michihi’s eyes widened at Lena’s response from beyond the Resonance. 

“Defeating the enemy’s reinforcements would be meaningless if our goal is to overcome this situation. It would contribute little to our goal of breaking the enemy’s siege. We wouldn’t just be whittling down our forces for naught—it would also prompt the Legion to send in more forces.” 

Rito knit his brows. 

“Our goal…? Shouldn’t we just defeat the Legion, and that’s it…?” 

“No. The enemy’s objective is occupying the Revich Citadel Base, and it’s for this reason that they’re shutting out the surroundings and sending in reinforcements. In which case, our objective should be to prevent that… In other words, retaking the citadel.” 

Theo spoke, and the sensation of him tilting his head quizzically transmitted through the Resonance. 

“So…you’re telling us to attack the base, Lena?” 

“Precisely, Second Lieutenant Rikka… But in this situation, there’s only one basic siege strategy we can adopt.” 

Fundamentally speaking, in siege battles, the side holding the castle had the advantage. Fortresses were military installations built and designed to prevent an enemy’s infiltration. They were meticulously constructed on specific battlefields that would put the side being sieged at an advantage. Castle walls were one such example, as they deflected enemy arrows while being equipped with many devices and schemes to allow the side holding the fort to rain concentrated fire on the enemy. 

This meant the side performing the siege had to adopt tactics that ignored the walls. Like schemes that drove the occupying force to come out. Or starvation tactics, though those often put the side holding the siege at a disadvantage if the other side had stores of goods hauled inside. Other tactics included destruction of the walls, digging of tunnels to burn down the ramparts, and using battering rams and counterweight-type trebuchets to crush the walls. 

But none of these tactics were viable in this battle, and the Legion were immune to all negotiation and intimidation. They would ignore any provocation and would never succumb to war weariness. Since neither side had a line of supply to support it, relying on attrition would be a double-edged sword, and they lacked the time to do so, anyway. Finally, burrowing their way into a base protected by granite, and placed on top of a cliff at that, was impossible. 

And with all that in mind, only one method remained. Picking up on what Lena was about to say, Shin answered with a slightly stiff voice: 

“…We have to charge the fort.” 

Forcing their way through the ramparts. Flocking their way up the walls like ants charging a source of food. The easiest, most utilized…most unskillful tactic, which would claim the greatest number of lives. 

“Yes… I’m going to have you scale a one-hundred-meter cliff as well as twenty-meter-tall walls.” 

A heavy silence fell over the improvised conference room for a moment. Be it the Republic models or the Federacy ones, the Eighty-Six’s Juggernauts were meant for battle in urban or forested areas. They were used to vertical movements using wire anchors. But…an ascent of over one hundred meters. Even a Juggernaut wouldn’t be able to climb that distance in a single bound, especially when exposed to enemy fire and self-propelled mines attacking them on the way up. 

“That’ll be…” 

“Hard. We’ll take considerable losses.” 

An ashen-faced Rito moaned, and Yuuto agreed with a severe expression. Raiden then said calmly from beyond the Resonance: 

“How about you forget the base and retreat?” 

“Out of the question. Even if we retreat, we don’t have the supplies to regroup with the main force.” 

Shin cut off his proposal. That exchange of question and answer was meant to inform the Processors of the situation. The Eighty-Six fought in an unusual environment for soldiers, and the concept of lines of communication and supply was unfamiliar to them. They didn’t have any experience marching through battle for days. Nothing good would come of having them fight without understanding why they needed to retake the citadel base. 

Shin ignored the intent hidden behind that question. On the off chance they might abandon the base. But they wouldn’t ever do that, no matter what. 

“We’ll make retaking the base our priority and buy time against the heavily armored Legion units with stall tactics. About right, Colonel?” 

Stall tactics. A strategy that involved impeding the enemy’s advance while avoiding direct conflict and slowing their movement. Since it was based on repeating hit-and-run attacks, it required a good deal of distance between the enemy and the target they would be defending, but based on the enemy reinforcements’ current position, they should be able to buy a few days. 

“Yes.” 

“Master Sergeant, I’m putting half our Juggernauts and the artillery battalion under your command. Handle the enemy reinforcements, all right?” 

“Yeah, I figured that was how it’d go.” 

Bernholdt nodded indifferently. The Eighty-Six were technically officers and were placed under the command of a noncommissioned officer. This was a situation that wouldn’t be possible in a normal military, but the Eighty-Six only ever saw ranks as decoration to begin with, and so did the mercenaries. The gathered squad captains gave no objections, either. 

“Five days. Aim to buy time until reinforcements arrive and nothing else. Don’t even think of trying to take them out.” 

“That goes without saying, chief… You guys don’t rush in all gung ho like idiots and get yourselves killed, either. Otherwise, we’d feel like dumbasses for protecting you.” 

Perhaps it was because of the nature of the situation they were in that Bernholdt allowed himself to say that. Shin shrugged at the veteran noncommissioned officer, who’d cracked a joke that bordered on the disrespectful, and moved his gaze to the other squad captains. 

“The remaining Juggernauts and Alkonosts will all participate in retaking the base… Our side can’t let this last five days. We have to recapture that base before the people in the command ward get wiped out.” 

With the operation’s details decided, both Lena’s group inside the citadel and the Strike Package outside set to work. Taking nighttime shifts into account, the base’s command personnel mixed in with Vanadis’s control crew. The Handlers Resonated with their Sirins in the control room, and any surviving soldiers set out to secure the corridors. Raiden’s group was on standby in the hangar, which stood as the largest and most probable invasion route. 

Grethe Resonated from the capital, informing them that preparations had been made to send in the reserve forces. 

“The Legion have started closing in from all over on the second southern front, which is where you all are. His Majesty and the crown prince have decided that this isn’t a situation where they can afford to be stingy with the reserves.” 

“Thank you, Colonel Wenzel.” 

“…We appreciate the message, but…I’ll make sure to scold Father and Brother Zafar and tell them off about using military officers from another country as their lackies just because they’re busy, Colonel.” 

Outside, the Juggernauts had begun moving out, be it to intercept the heavily armored units or to surround the base. With the climbing irons attached to their feet adding a distinctive sound to their footsteps as his backdrop, Shin said: 

“Colonel Milizé. Vika. Can I leave command of the full force to you? I only know a few strategies when it comes to siege battles. It’s probably beyond me, to be honest.” 

“…Yes, you were a special officer academy child, come to think of it. A quickly promoted officer wouldn’t know.” 

As Vika spoke, he left the command ward’s ammunition depot, checking the operation of a spear-like heavy firearm with practiced movements. The thought occurred to Lena that the Idinarohk royalty truly were a militaristic bloodline. It was a 20 mm anti-tank rifled cannon, one of the older anti-tank weapons for infantry use, equipped with large amounts of propellant and a long barrel to grant its warheads the supersonic speed needed to penetrate armor. It was discarded due to the strengthening of tank armor and the introduction of lighter and/or more powerful recoilless rifles. 

But unlike said recoilless rifles, which couldn’t be used in confined spaces unable to accommodate the several-dozen-meter-long flames they ejected, it didn’t disperse anything but a loud bang. This weapon was still usable here in the command ward, with its many cramped corridors. 

After finishing his inspection, Vika handed two of these fifteen-kilogram rifles over to one of the royal guards and continued speaking as he saw him carry them off from the command post to set them up in the corridors. 

“True, I may have studied on a bit more of a systematic level, but I don’t have any experience in siege battles, either. Though I have more experience than I wish I did when it comes to nesting up.” 

“If you’ve studied it on any systematic level, you’d still know more than me. I have experience with holding down positions, but I can’t imagine being on the other side.” 

“Yes, I suppose.” 

“…But—” 

Lena noticed something and parted her lips to speak. If even Shin, who had the most experience out of all the Eighty-Six, didn’t know much about this topic, that would mean… 

“If that’s the case, wouldn’t that mean…that the Legion don’t know how to fight within this fortress?” 

A violet right eye turned in her direction. 

“Including the ones inside the citadel, most of the Legion are presumed to be Sheepdogs, though.” 

“Yes. Intelligent soldier types made by assimilating the neural networks of Republic citizens.” 

Republic citizens who couldn’t fight back and ended up being taken by the Legion, thus involuntarily bolstering their ranks. 

“But that would mean civilians without any combat experience were made into soldiers. Their intelligence may be equal to the average human’s, but if that’s the case, they shouldn’t be able to properly perform anything they don’t know.” 

The Republic citizens had sequestered themselves within a false peace, treating the war raging outside the walls like a movie at the cinema. Even most of the Republic’s soldiers had never so much as fired a gun. And the majority of the Shepherds who led them were likely Eighty-Six, as well. 

The Republic was the only nation that left corpses unattended, allowing them to be collected in the Legion’s Headhunts. The Federacy, the United Kingdom, and the Alliance had all taken considerable measures when they realized the Legion were taking in their war dead. 

To begin with, those countries poured all their strength and energy into valiantly resisting the Legion, even outside of battle, and took the bodies and those injured back at all costs. It was easy to imagine, then, that the Eighty-Six, who never received aid and were lacking in manpower, and had been forbidden from collecting their corpses at that, were the key ingredient that went into producing Black Sheep and Shepherds. 

And these Eighty-Six were child soldiers who had never received elementary education, to say nothing of a soldier’s training. Rich as their experience in the field may be, they wouldn’t have any knowledge of laying siege. And the same held true for the Legion in their natural state, which were only soldiers obeying the Empire’s orders. They may have gathered and analyzed eleven years’ worth of combat experience, but they wouldn’t be able to analyze a form of combat they’d never experienced. 

And siege battle was a military tactic that hadn’t been employed in over a century, with the growth of long-range artillery and the introduction of airborne weapons. It would only be registered as knowledge of something that had once existed. 

“…I see. So in terms of knowledge, we still have the upper hand.” 

His eyes narrowed in the darkness, and he broke into a ghoulish smile. A despotic tyrant’s pleased grin. 

“It may be a golden chance to teach these peaceful, common citizens the inherent vileness commanders can have. In which case, leave the nasty job of commanding the defense of the command ward to me… Milizé, you take command of the siege outside. I’ll transfer total command privileges over the Sirins to you.” 

“Right. Captain Nouzen, you heard him.” 

“Roger… Thank you very much.” 

Grethe then said, “We can handle simulations and investigations on this side, so send any query you need our way… And also…” She seemed to hesitate before speaking again: 

“A message from His Majesty… There’s no need to rescue Prince Viktor. Should you have to abandon him, he won’t hold the Federacy or the Strike Package accountable…” 

Lena was momentarily shocked. Impossible. His Majesty—that is, the king—was Vika’s father. Vika, on the other hand, shrugged as if this was obvious. 

“Makes sense he would say that. I’m a soldier, and this is the United Kingdom’s battlefield. If he would hold you responsible, he’d be a laughingstock for ages to come.” 

“I think this is kinda strange,” Annette said as Grethe turned off the Para-RAID. They were in a room in Roa Gracia’s royal castle. It was so extravagant and comfortable it made them feel guilty being there while Lena and the others were in the middle of a crisis. 

“Their objective aside, they managed to pinpoint and attack the Strike Package again,” Annette continued. “It feels like they’re reading our movements a little too well.” 

Grethe nodded. The Revich Citadel Base was a United Kingdom forward observation point that overlooked the lowlands. It had no value that would justify the Legion attacking it. In which case, their objective here was the Strike Package, but that was weird in and of itself. 

“What are the odds of the Para-RAID being intercepted?” Grethe asked Annette quietly. 

“Slim to none… I can’t say it’s impossible for the Legion to Resonate, given that the Sirins, who are also made with copies of human neural networks, can. But you need to have your settings aligned to Resonate with a particular target.” 

“Maybe the Legion can trace the captain’s location, same as how he can hear their voices?” 

“That’s unknown at the moment… But there’s a simpler explanation.” 

“Yes.” 

Grethe heaved a single sigh heavy with depression and a soldier’s coldheartedness. 

“We can’t rule out the option…that someone’s been leaking information from within the Federacy military.” 

Lena entered the room that had been allotted to her as living quarters and, after undoing her blouse and stockings, looked down at the thing in her hands. The Cicada. The Thought-Support Device Vika had given to her to lighten the strain of Resonating with over one hundred people. She hadn’t used it during the recon mission. It was too short, and her only Resonance targets were the several captains. 

But this time, she couldn’t afford not to use it. She needed to have the entire brigade out there under her command, which made the number of Resonance targets that much larger. With the siege battle predicted to be particularly savage, if she were to pass out, there would be no one to command the Strike Package outside. And while he might be willing to take her place, it would put considerable strain on Vika, too. 

Lena braced herself with an “okay” and drew up her long hair, placing the Cicada on her neck so that it came in contact with her RAID Device. She felt the cold of the quasi-nerve crystal against her body heat and the bioelectric current running through her skin. 

The Cicada—the Thought-Control Device—came to life. 

The silver threads that made up the ring of the device unfurled, going from a solid, unified state into what seemed like luminescent snow. Countless strings, like a silkworm moth’s strands or a spider’s thread, became a torrent of light and trailed down Lena’s white back. The silver threads lit up with faint-violet light. They propagated with explosive speed, like a tangle of rapidly spreading vines, crawling and coiling over her shoulders, back, and arms. 

“Ngh…” 

She felt a peculiar, almost ticklish sensation of touch over her skin. As if she were being caressed with the tip of a feather, as if her skin were being lightly traced by a person’s finger. 

“Unf… Ah…!” 

And as the threads continued their self-propagation, they crawled all over her, enveloping her entirely from the neck down before stopping. The end result was an outfit that covered up her whole body, like a tight bodysuit of sorts. The silver threads were made of quasi-nerve fibers with a self-propagating feature, their surface having an intertwined, almost organic sort of appearance. The device employed the wearer’s bioelectric currents as its power source, forming a quasi-nerve network that covered the body by way of the fibers—a supplementary, full-body brain. 

Perhaps it was part of the boon of its supportive powers, but when she opened her eyes, her field of vision felt slightly clearer than before. Taking a single breath, Lena raised her head in the dimly lit room. 

With the added thickness of the device wrapped around her like an outfit, Lena wasn’t able to comfortably get her arms through her uniform’s sleeves, and it felt tight around her shoulders, so she put on only her pumps and returned to the command post. The deployment of the device was thinner around her legs, which were farther from its point of origin, so they were about as thick as her stockings, allowing her legs to fit into the shoes without issue. 

Hearing the clicking of her heels, Vika turned his gaze in her direction. Frederica, being a child, relinquished her seat and stood by the vice commander’s. They both looked at her with a peculiar expression and fell silent for a moment. 

“Yeah… Hmm……… I’m sorry. This is all my fault.” 

“……!” 

Hearing the prince act politely only now, after apologizing this late in the game, made Lena glare at him. Uncharacteristically, Vika was desperately looking away from her in a cold sweat. 

“To be honest, I have Lerche use it, too, when necessary… But hmm, yes, indeed. I realize now it was only fine by virtue of her being a lot more…modest than you are…” 

“What’s that supposed to mean?!” 

“You’re…very well-endowed.” 

“Endowed with what?!” 

Even Frederica looked at them with pity and a complicated expression. 

“It seems even this imbecile is at a loss due to how…er…tempting this appearance is to the eyes of a man.” 

She tried to pick her words carefully, which only served to make Lena more shocked. It felt as if she’d just been told to her face that she was walking around indecently. 

The Thought-Support Device—the Cicada. A bodysuit-type computation unit made up of quasi-nerve fibers. 

However, since it operated by using the wearer’s bioelectric current as its power source, and since the quasi-nerve fibers had no means of maintaining their posture, they had to deploy over the skin. Which meant aside from adhering to a form, the material also had to support itself against her body tissues. 

In other words, it tended to sway a lot. Especially around the chest. 

The command personnel all looked away in a reserved if blatant manner, with her gaze falling on one young man in particular who had his eyes desperately glued to the screen in front of him. 

“…Second Lieutenant Marcel, why are you refusing to look at me…?!” 

And still, despite his colonel’s inquiry, Marcel didn’t move his eyes away from the monitor. 

“Colonel, could you please not sentence me to death, even indirectly? If I turn around now, Nouzen will murder me for sure.” 

“Wh-why are you bringing up Shin…?!” 

Hearing that name only made her more embarrassed, which prompted Lena to blush profusely. 

“Well… Y’know. Anyway, we’ll try to get you a bigger uniform for the next operation, Your Majesty.” 

Shiden said this over the Resonance, her voice unable to suppress her sympathy. Frederica left wordlessly, only to come back with a thick steel-blue Federacy men’s blazer, which she draped over Lena’s shoulders. 

Lena had disconnected for a while to make preparations to control the Spearhead squadron’s deployment and had finally reconnected to the Resonance. 

“All Strike Package members. I apologize for the wait.” 

“It’s fine… Colonel?” 

Shin noticed something was off and asked about it. She’d cut off the call over ten minutes ago. 

“Did something happen?” 

“Like what?” 

He knew it. 

“Your voice… You sound upset.” 

Her silver-bell-like voice was thorny to the point that it was impossible to hide it. And her tone sounded unusually curt. 

“It’s nothing.” 

So something happened. He’d ask someone after the battle. Probably Frederica or Marcel. He didn’t know what it was, but he figured asking Lena herself would be a bad idea. 

Lerche then reported, with an oddly apologetic tone to her voice: 

“…Sir Reaper. We, er, finished deploying the Alkonosts, so…” 

“…? Roger. Colonel, the Strike Package is deployed and ready to go.” 

“Good work. Remain on standby until further orders.” 

Heaving a sigh, Lena seemed to have pulled herself together. That usually refined silver bell of a voice still had a hint of agitation to it. Something about it felt fidgety and embarrassed this time. The emotions being transmitted felt fairly strong, which made Shin furrow his brow. Speaking through the Resonance conveyed emotions at the same level as conversing face-to-face would, and at that moment, they came across extremely vividly. 

“Is something—?” 

“Captain Nouzen! Remain. On. Standby!” 

“…Yes, ma’am.” 

It was past noon, and while it wasn’t quite sunset yet, snow began to flit down from the darkened sky. The heavy, lead-colored clouds dyed over by silver dust soundlessly scattered flakes of white toward the earth. 

The Revich Citadel lay beyond the horizon, lording over all like the crouching carcass of a giant. The cliff had a difference in elevation that was three thousand meters at worst and a thousand meters at best. With the incessant snowfall, this cliff was now clad in a thick cloak of frost, with steel plates covering the peak. 

In terms of topography, the citadel area was the highest one, while the part facing the southern contested zones—in other words, the conifer forest Shin and his group were currently in—was more of a gentle descent. 

The forest had likely been cut through to help intercept attacks from above, and the area that spread over a diameter of several kilometers around the base was plains that were unnaturally devoid of surfaces that could serve as cover. The Strike Package marked a rocky, diamond-shaped mountain that extended to the north and south as their point of attack due to its low elevation difference and relatively close distance to the forest. 

“…If we go out there carelessly, we’ll be sitting ducks,” said Anju. 

“Still, there’s nowhere else we could go out from… If it weren’t that kind of castle, we could at least pump them full of artillery shells.” 

Being surrounded by walls on all sides also meant there was nowhere to run, which made it a prime target for surface suppression, which involved scattering high-explosive projectiles over a large set area. But the fortress had a thick rock canopy formed by the glaciers’ erosion of the mountain that served as its natural defense. It was now reinforced with metal pillars and served as a solid defense against bombardment and bombing. In that regard, perhaps an attack from the Morpho or a bomber plane carrying heavyweight, supersonic cannons might be capable of penetrating it, but mediocre bombardment wouldn’t. 

Theo cracked that joke knowing all of that, but their comrades were still trapped inside. And sure enough, Kurena knit her brows. 

“Isn’t Raiden in there…? And, well, I’m worried about Lena, too.” 

“I was being hypothetical. That’s why Shin handed all the Juggernauts that used artillery weapons over to Bernholdt’s side.” 

The Reginleif’s primary and side armaments were exchangeable, and the Strike Package had two battalions of howitzer-equipped artillery-use models. Those were both sent over to aid in the stalling operations. Like Theo said, they weren’t suitable for this sort of combat and were better off offering suppressing fire in the battlefield swarming with heavyweight Legion. 

There were no signs of the enemy around the base and no trace of the ghosts’ whispers save for the Sirins. As he listened to the screams of agony that came only from within the base, and namely from the surface sector, Shin asked, “Anju, any way you could fire those rockets through the gap between the canopy and the walls?” 

“Shin, what?!” 

“Hmm…” 

While Kurena panicked, Anju simply replied quizzically. 

“I could assign the missile’s targets but not direct their trajectory. And the base’s core facilities are all underground, right? Even assuming I could do something about the Legion on the surface level, I can’t reach the ones in the underground sectors.” 

“I figured that if we can suppress the surface even for a short while, it might buy us time to get in… But I suppose that’s out.” 

“Guess there’s no way in but to climb up, after all…” 

Dustin, who’d been listening silently, then said: 

“…Out of curiosity, why can’t we climb up the northwestern entrance gate? No one even mentioned it in the strategy meeting, so I understand that it’s not a good idea, but there’s an actual path into the base there. Isn’t it a lot safer and faster than scaling up the walls with wire anchors?” 

Shin blinked for a moment. It was common sense for an Eighty-Six, and he didn’t expect to be asked about that. 

“Because the enemy will be waiting for us at the entrance… And that path in particular is built to allow the defensive side to rain concentrated fire on the attackers climbing up.” 

“…Concentrated fire? Ah…!” 

It dawned on him. The northwestern entrance into the Revich Citadel Base was built on a needlessly convoluted hill full of sharp hairpin curves. If they were to attempt to climb it, they’d be met with obstacles at the side of the road and the walls on both sides of the fan-shaped gate. Advancing along the road meant you wouldn’t run into any obstacles, but it also meant you would be exposed to concentrated fire from three directions for a prolonged period of time. Not only would they never reach the gate, but the losses they would take would be absurd with nothing to show for it, and the way back would be riddled with the wreckage of fallen units. 

“But the fort’s interior doesn’t have that kind of cannon, and you don’t have to go along the road itself…” 

“We haven’t confirmed it doesn’t have it, and if we go off-road, it’ll be full of obstacles, not to mention that if you get far enough away from the pavement, the place will probably be riddled with mines. And using bombardment to clear away mines isn’t the safest method.” 

Mines had a habit of going off before they were removed, and they were intentionally designed to target an enemy’s weak points. Truly a nasty weapon. Vika, who had apparently been listening in, then said with the spiteful smile of an ornery tiger: 

“Correct, Nouzen. As vicious as you think me to be…I agree. It doesn’t just apply to this castle, but you’d do well to avoid attacking it head-on recklessly. Exits and paved roads aren’t necessarily places man can traverse.” 

Places that were the most efficient spots to set traps in—and places the enemy would be paying the most attention to. 

“You should be careful even after you get in. The Legion mowed a few of them down, but there’s still a few defensive mechanisms active.” 

“…Did you seriously just say you planted mines inside your own castle…?” 

“It’s better if I planted them knowingly, no…? If you think you’re safe from mines or traps just because you’re in your country’s territory, you may end up learning quite painfully how mistaken you are.” 

“…” 

Sagittarius’s optical sensor turned to the ground in a visibly uncomfortable gesture. 

“So there’s no way in but to scale the cliff, like it or not… But first, there’s a need for reconnaissance. Who wants to lead the charge?” 

After a long silence, Vika chimed in. 

“Don’t tell me you don’t understand yet… Care to enlighten them, Lerche?” 

Lerche, who had maintained a reserved silence until now, replied with a hint of pride: 

“Have you forgotten, friends? We Sirins are the wings created for that very purpose.” 

*   *   * 

One team of four Alkonosts rushed out of the forest. They detoured around so as to create distance between themselves and the siege team but moved in a straight line away from the camp. Remaining vigilant of enemy bombardment, they kept a distance of a hundred meters from each other as they moved in a wedge formation and continued on, the strange noise of mechanical claws cleaving into ice accompanying their footsteps. 

“…Sir Reaper. Since the data link has just arrived, I’ve taken the liberty of relaying it to you.” 

Following Lerche’s report, a holo-window popped up in Undertaker’s cockpit. It showed footage of the recon units’ gun cameras, using Chaika as a relay. They were several hundred meters away from the citadel, and the precipitous cliff seemed to stretch high into the heavens from their vantage point. 

The proximity to the base just made its impregnability all that more noticeable. A wall of ice stood one hundred meters tall, and on top of that, there was another wall of thick, reinforced concrete covered in armor plates. And worse still, the cliff had been intentionally crumbled so as to draw a light arc, making it impossible to climb over. Even using wire anchors, one wouldn’t be able to climb to the top in a single bound. 

But before even that, there was a ten-meter-wide, twenty-meter-deep dry moat surrounding the ledge from all directions, without exception. The Reginleifs and Alkonosts were light by Feldreß standards and could jump across that distance, but there was a solid wall of thick ice beyond it. If they were to fumble firing off their wire anchors, they’d fall to the bottom of the moat, which had sharpened metal thorns packed closely together, meant as anti-tank obstacles. 

“…Yeah, but if we shoot anchors directly below the wall and pull them taut, we should be able to climb,” Theo said, viewing the same footage. 

“But we’ll probably bring the whole thing down if we fire too many of them, so only a few of us will be able to climb. We can blow away the anti-tank obstacles and slip through that way. If we can just open the gate, the rest should be able to get in normally…” 

The sentence trailed off. Shin’s ability picked up the movements of a Legion. Looking up at the walls, they saw a massive steel-colored shadow peeking out of the arrow slits, which were in the shape of a saw’s teeth. A menacing silhouette characteristic of a weapon, and the elongated shadow of the cannon barrel set upon its back. 

Lerche said, “Lady Queen, Sir Reaper… We will be firing at this cannon shortly. We need to confirm its attack method and effective range.” 

“Take every precaution to avoid a direct hit. We can’t restock ourselves here, so we need to avoid as many losses as possible.” 

“By your will…” 

The steel-colored shadow leaned forward, taking aim at the Alkonosts directly below the walls. The system traced their field of vision automatically and zoomed in. The distant image of the unit became clear. It was roughly the same size as a Stier and had the reddish-black frame characteristic of the Legion. But it was noticeably unarmored. Its large cannon was thrust upward atop its four-legged fuselage, its mechanisms exposed. From its rear extended a pair of elongated plow-like parts reminiscent of a scorpion’s tail. 

The ghost’s roar rumbling in Shin’s ears made it clear this was a Legion. But in seven years of fighting the Legion, Shin had never seen this kind of unit before. 

No… True enough, as a Legion he’d never seen it, but he’d seen this detailed form before. A long barrel with massive, imposing mechanisms. The barrel had a sinister muzzle and rear spades for absorbing the recoil during artillery fire. He’d never seen anything like it in the Eighty-Sixth Sector, where they received no support, but he had seen something like it in the Federacy, where providing rear support was a given. 

It was larger than a tank’s barrel or any sort of rifle. The god of the battlefield, which despite being absent of any desire to kill or will for slaughter, unknowingly claimed the largest number of lives… 

A howitzer! 

“Lerche, have the Alkonosts pull back! That’s a—” 

It finally dawned on Shin why the Legion had gone to the trouble of adding heavy, buffered containers into the units they’d launched. After accelerating, they lacked the mobility to land on their own…because their design was never intended for them to be present on the front lines. 

“It’s a Skorpion!” 

A rumbling roar. 

The Legion’s largest cannon—a 155 mm howitzer—fired a volley at the Alkonosts standing near the moat. 

“A Skorpion?! Are you saying they brought one of their artillery types from the rear to the front lines?!” 

It was only natural that Lena was shocked enough to respond with a question of her own. The Skorpion types—and howitzers in general—packed unrivaled firepower but at the same time were relatively helpless on the front lines. So to think the Legion would send them in—and while assaulting a fortress, at that… 

“Why would they…?” 

Vika clicked his tongue loudly. 

“…So that’s their play. Milizé, don’t have the Alkonosts pull back. The Skorpion types were brought in to destroy the command ward’s partitions.” 

Lena gasped. A 155 mm high-explosive projectile packed enough firepower to blow a tank to smithereens if it hit directly. And the command ward’s sturdy bulkhead partitions would eventually crumble if exposed to concentrated fire. 

They packed the highest firepower possible against fixed targets and were at the same time lightweight units capable of being launched by a Zentaur—which was likely why they’d been chosen. Based on the types that it had been observed to catapult, the maximum weight that it could launch was ten tons. 

The Löwe weighed fifty tons, and the Dinosauria weighed at least a hundred tons—their barrels alone were over the permissible weight. In contrast, the Skorpion had a simple form. Its weight was mostly in its shell, and its only real attachments were its legs, so it was one of the lighter Legion units. The fact that it was unarmored made it extremely convenient in terms of the weight limit. 

They’d sent it in because it fit the requirements. There was no trace of the human logic of keeping their artillery in the back, where it would be safe. The Legion didn’t shy away from the prospect of rushing into a minefield to clear it and, despite being on the same battlefield as humankind, which shirked from sacrificing comrades, acted on a different sort of logic altogether. Which had led them to this course of action. 

It was the same. 

“…Having the Sirins recklessly approach the Skorpion types, with their area-suppression abilities, is…” 

“If they didn’t care about protecting the walls, the Skorpion types would fire at us instead. In which case, we need the people outside to draw the Legion’s attention, at least to some extent.” 

“…” 

It was the same as how Lena, who commanded people, and Vika, who commanded machines, acted on different forms of logic. 

But when it came to the battlefield, Vika was in the right. Naively hesitating when faced with the death of the few in front of her would result only in everyone under her command dying. So hardening her heart, Lena gave the order, praying with all her might that her self-loathing and terror wouldn’t be transmitted to Shin and the others over the Resonance. 

“All Handlers. Proceed and advance the second squadron. Try to evade as much as possible going forward and keep the enemy’s cannons pinned to the top of the walls. Don’t give them a moment’s leisure.” 

“…Roger that. The Juggernauts will attempt to close the distance, too,” replied Shin, directing a bitter gaze at the decimated ruins of the Alkonosts annihilated by a barrage of 155 mm shells capable of sweeping through a radius of thirty meters. There was no way he didn’t understand the meaning behind Lena’s pained order. The Skorpion types were far from an ideal pick for defending the walls. Their forty-kilometer range was too long in this scenario, with a large gap between their azimuth and inclination sights; they were never designed to be present on the front lines, after all, and so they weren’t suited to it. 

If they didn’t keep them occupied, the Skorpion types would turn their sights to Lena and the others inside. Shin turned his consciousness to the captain of the platoon he’d sent to the walls as reinforcements. A unit meant to eliminate the Legion on the walls. To make the enemy cover their heads and fall back, enabling the unit to close in on the walls. 

“…Kurena. Are there any points you could snipe toward the walls from?” 

That question made Kurena bite her lip. She inspected the map and found one of the sniping points she’d noted. A slightly elevated ledge in the snowy forest. 

“A few. But…” 

She’d honed her sniping skills out of her wish to help Shin, who faced the enemy head-on as a vanguard. Her role was to remove enemies that got in their way at times like now. He would surely need her help here. So long as she could do this, she would get to stay at his side on the battlefield. It was her role and hers alone; she would relinquish it to no one, and not even Lena would be able to overtake her when it came to this. 

And yet, she had to make this report. She moaned despondently at the sight of the sensors of brand-new buckshot mines flickering repeatedly on the ledge, covered by the light snow. They’d likely been set there to catch them off guard as they returned from the Dragon Fang Mountain conquest operation. 

“It’s riddled with mines…! They set anti-tank mines all over the place!” 

The thundering sound of an explosion enveloping the ledge reached even this far. Raiden looked in the direction of it and spoke, as his Juggernaut’s sensors couldn’t pick up anything beyond the concrete-and-rock wall. “So the defensive line in the passageway got to work, eh…? Sounds like the guys are struggling out there.” 

“Well, yeah, you try rock climbing up that crazy cliff. Even Li’l Reaper’s gonna have trouble with that.” 

They were in the eighth hangar, on the lowest level of the Revich Citadel Base. It was the largest hangar in the base, a huge space that took up that whole level, with a breadth and length of over five hundred meters. It was tall enough to contain a civilian house, and aside from the lighting, gantry cranes filled the ceiling, surrounded by catwalks. The Juggernauts formed a barricade out of empty containers and hid in its shadow with Wehrwolf in the lead. 

Looking through his optical sensor, he eyed the entrance that led to the elevator, which currently had its anti-fire shutter lowered, the violent sound of explosions roaring from behind it. It was the sound of the Legion from the lower levels launching repeated suicide attacks. The self-propelled mines’ self-destructing and the Ameise’s bashing gradually started breaking through the shutter. It had started to warp and creak. With a single powerful thud, the shutter’s surface crumpled and tore open, giving them a glance at the group of metallic monstrosities writhing outside. 

…They’re coming. 

“—All units, remove safeties. Stay put until further orders…” 

Another blast. The shutter was incapable of taking any more damage and was blown off spectacularly. A stream of self-propelled mines intermingled with Ameise poured into the hangar, and as their shining optical sensors swerved to and fro, searching the darkness for their prey, Raiden gave the order. 

“Fire!” 

In the next moment, a horizontal line of fire swept down onto the Legion from their flank. The low growl of an autocannon and the screeching of two heavy machine guns filled the hangar, sending the severed legs of the Ameise and the dismantled limbs of the self-propelled flying units into the air in puffs of black smoke and bursts of flame. 

However, the second wave was all too eager to trample over the bodies of their downed comrades to enter the hangar, heedless of the hail of bullets. They closed the distance in the few seconds the fire stopped in order to prevent the barrels from overheating, descending on the Processors as they silently stepped over their comrades’ remains. 

“Ha, rushin’ in like ants… Don’t let a single one pass! There’s nowhere for us to retreat to, ya hear?!” 

Shiden barked at the Brísingamen squadron, who replied in turn. It soon became a chaotic battle, with mobile weapons moving about and aiming at one another’s weak spots as self-propelled mines tried to rush in between them. Not just the Juggernaut but all land weapons tended to be less armored on their surfaces, and in an attempt to capitalize on that weakness, some self-propelled mines climbed up the walls to reach the catwalks— 

“Here they come! Knock ’em down!” 

Busting through the glass of the standby room overlooking the hangar, an assault rifle’s fire, set to full-auto, rushed them. Setting out to clean up those that got away, the Eighty-Six maintenance crew shot concentrated fire at the self-propelled mines. 

They’d been forced to leave the front lines due to injuries and the resulting damage to their bodies, but they were originally combatants accustomed to handling firearms…as well as the air of the battlefield and the sensation of brushing against death. The Ameise turned their sights onto them at once. 

“Retreat—fall back!” 

A moment after that shout and their loud footsteps, 14 mm machine-gun fire swept through the standby room. The following moment, though, Shana’s unit, Melusine, trampled over the Ameise. Shiden looked around the hangar and spat out, “Doesn’t look like that Phönix thing showed up here…” 

“Not that I’d want it to show up right now…” 

There were no records of battle with the Phönix in any corridors since it took over the observation tower. The bulkhead partitions in the underground sector were set up with high-voltage traps as a measure against high-frequency-blade attacks, and the last sighting of it was of its blade being deflected off one of those. According to Shin’s recon, it was definitely still somewhere in the base, but it was either damaged or under repair. Or… 

“…It’s the Legion’s trump card.” 

They’d left suppression of the base to the low-rank grunts…and kept it hidden for a battle where it would be needed most. 

“It’s powerful but irreplaceable. They probably don’t want to use it on scrubs like us.” 

It could tear through anything and shoot through anyone, and for that reason precisely, it was one of a kind. Which meant it would join the fray only when an equally unique unit—Shin and Undertaker—would appear to serve as its worthy opponent. 

Shiden scoffed ferociously. 

“Scrubs, huh? I’m starting to really want to pull that complacency out of them, along with the rest of their guts.” 

“Cut it out… We’re in no situation to be pickin’ fights with them when we’re this short on heads.” 

“—Corridor five, fall back to corridor three. Mow them down. Thirty seconds later, go back in to retake. There are Ameise equipped with heavy machine guns coming from corridor zero. Rifle unit, retreat and provide covering fire with anti-tank rifles. The moment they show their faces, take them out.” 

As he commanded the action taking place across multiple corridors, Vika’s rapid succession of orders echoing through the command ward made it clear just how severe the fighting on the defensive line was. All the corridors leading to the command ward were sealed by thick three-layered partitions, but those would all crumble if they were to take repeated attacks without someone to defend them. As such, violent skirmishes were unfolding between the soldiers who stood in front of the partitions and the lightweight Legion they were trying to keep at bay. 

Antipersonnel/anti-light-armor buckshot mines went off, triggering in succession, and the roaring explosions tearing through the corridors shook the air as the sharp sounds of 20 mm anti-tank rifle fire came from another direction. Footage of multiple corridors and assorted status screens appeared one after another at a dizzying pace. Still looking at the holo-screens deployed around him in a semicircle, Vika directed an Imperial purple eye in Lena’s direction. 

“If a single self-propelled mine gets through to here, it’s checkmate for us. The shock waves would get as far as here, and we’d have nowhere to run.” 

“Understood,” Lena replied with a small nod. 

The enemies were mainly self-propelled mines, but for the command ward, those types of enemies were the most lethal. If a powerful explosive went off in this enclosed space, the shock waves would repeatedly rebound off the walls and intensify. Shock waves of such intensity would easily destroy the more fragile organs inside the human body, like the brain and the intestines. 

In the last operation, Shin had used Undertaker as bait and exposed his own body to take down the Morpho, but one wrong step, and he’d have been in mortal danger due to the blast. Reading the report of his actions in that battle had made Lena shudder in terror, even if it had been his only option and there had been cover to deflect and diminish the shock waves. 

“Is there any chance of infant-type self-propelled mines crawling in through the ventilation ducts?” 

Ducts were an indispensable part of the facility, meant to make sure the people inside didn’t suffocate, but at the same time, they were paths that directly connected to the outside and were a valid way to break in during a siege battle. 

“The possibility of a child carrying in Greek fire…? Ever since this fortress was first built, the only places large enough for a human to pass through—be they a child or otherwise—were the rooms and the corridors. The duct interiors were a collection of tight, thin metal tubes. Even a single Eintagsfliege wouldn’t be able to pass through them.” 

Incidentally, Greek fire was a sort of liquid propellant from the Middle Ages that used naphtha as its main fuel source. Thanks to its properties of not being easily extinguished by water, it was often used for naval combat and siege battles. It did beg the question, however, if the Idinarohk royal house had managed to buy enough of the commoners’ ire to necessitate worrying over the possibility of a child carrying Greek fire in. 

A blast sounded from afar, causing the air of the command post to tremble faintly. One of the codes signifying a buckshot mine went dim in one of Vika’s holo-screens. The spot it went off in was an oddly well-guarded but consistently wide corridor, which made it easy to attack. However, it was a dummy corridor and led nowhere. Humans often favored attacking weak points and had a tendency to associate highly guarded locations with important, critical spots. The trap had been set up to take advantage of this aspect of human psychology and control the enemy’s actions, and the Legion seemed to have fallen for it, too. 

Vika simply regarded it with a glance and scoffed. There were countless such traps strewn throughout the ward. But even these defenses were being depleted and consumed by the minute. 

“A person will always be a nuisance to someone else, just by virtue of living. That’s true for everyone, no matter how upstanding they may be… And so it is never a bad idea to be prepared. No matter the grudges it may end up buying you.” 

As the sun set, a snow-bearing wind began to blow, obfuscating one’s field of vision with a faint curtain of white. Even the Ameise’s compound sensors were somewhat impeded by it, so their fire, along with that of the Skorpion types, became significantly less accurate, making it easier to approach the walls. But on the other hand, the scathing snow also acted against the Juggernauts, making them trip over the stumps littering the deforested area. More and more rigs became incapable of moving. 

They tried to retaliate against the unimpeded howitzer fire raining on them diagonally and horizontally by firing from below the walls, but the 88 mm tank turrets and 105 mm gun launcher were impeded by the serrated breastworks of the walls and hardly ever hit. Powerful breastworks, reinforced by specifically made armored plates. They hid the line of fire above the walls from harm while systematically deflecting the attacking side’s fire—a perfect form of castle defense. 

Slipping through the heavy, haphazard line of fire, Undertaker finally reached the base of the wall. Stabbing its legs’ climbing irons and wire anchor into the frozen surface, Shin reeled the wire in, forcing his ten-ton machine up the wall. There were Legion above it, but the blizzard hid him from view. Theo’s Laughing Fox joined him a few moments later. The two of them led the Spearhead squadron’s vanguard platoons. 

Anju’s surface-suppression platoon bombarded a different point on the walls to draw the Legion’s attention away from their comrades, the roar of their fire blowing away even the howling of the stormy wind. But for a moment, the wind died down and then increased in intensity again, making the curtain of white temporarily cease. 

Their gaze met with a self-propelled mine that was leaning out from the walls to peer down. 

“…Get away! It’s gonna cling to us!” 

Purging the wire he didn’t have the time to reel back and collect, Shin kicked against the wall and danced through the air. It was a harsh altitude even for the Juggernauts’ highly efficient shock absorbers, which were made for high-mobility battle, but he had no other method of escape. 

A moment after he jumped, the self-propelled mine crashed down before his eyes. It clung to a consort unit that failed to evade in time and self-destructed, taking them both out… An anti-tank mine type. It was capable of releasing metal jet that would penetrate even a Vánagandr’s top surface armor if it were to cling to it. Needless to say, the poorly armored Reginleif was destroyed entirely. 

Changing its stance in midair, Undertaker landed on its four legs. Shin wasn’t used to maneuvering in a snowy battlefield with unique equipment meant to accommodate this terrain. The impact wasn’t perfectly suppressed, transmitting from his climbing irons into the Juggernaut’s internal mechanisms, and a worrying creak echoed through the cockpit as several parts cracked. A warning gauge lit up, accompanied by an irritating alert sound. He spared it a glance through narrowed eyes. His rear right leg’s joint mechanism was partially damaged… It was still capable of moving, though. 

A Skorpion moved its barrel in pursuit of them, and the Juggernauts that jumped aside fired at it mercilessly to keep it in check. They fired their rear gun mounts and autocannons without pause, not caring if the barrels would overheat and go out in puffs of smoke. A voice that was all too cold and calm by contrast—Second Lieutenant Yuuto Crow’s voice—spoke through the Resonance. 

“Nouzen, fall back. With the state your rig is in, you can’t fight the way you always do.” 

“…But…” 

Yuuto’s rig, Verethragna, turned its optical sensor in his direction. If a Juggernaut could speak, it would likely have a flat, mechanical voice. 

“If you die, we lose our recon. Even after we made it in, the absence of your melee skills and extensive combat experience would put us at a heavy disadvantage… Fall back. Prioritize reconnaissance and command for now.” 

Shin held his breath for a long moment. Yuuto was right. But even if they weren’t making any headway, retreating to the back of the line at this point irritated him. 

“…Roger.” 

Lena looked on as one of the cameras on the surface level got hit by howitzer fire and went out of commission. Most of the main screen went dark. The footage of the battle surrounding the walls, the meteorological information outside, the predicted types and numbers of the enemy. All the information about what went on outside the base blacked out at once… The link line to the canopy’s circumference at the top of the base—and the compound sensor units set up there—was severed. 

“Reserve circuit activated… Milizé, it’ll take a while before it’s restored and online. Until then, keep the reports from outside—” 

“No, it’s fine. I have it all memorized!” 

Lena didn’t even see Vika wheel around to look at her with surprise. The enemy position Shin revealed to them. The positions of both sides, as detailed in the reports and outer cameras until now. The citadel base’s structure and the surrounding topography. The wind speed and average visibility affecting the trajectory of shells. All of those had been memorized in her mind and then simulated to predict how they’d move. 

This was easy for Lena, who had commanded squadrons while reconstructing a battlefield that was a hundred kilometers away. But this was a brigade—the number of troops was in the thousands. Even if she was breaking them down into smaller units, it required a massive number of simulations—which the Cicada responded to by operating with high efficiency. The countless quasi-nerve fibers lit up in purple, drawing random patterns across their surface. 

“Scythe squadron, concentrate your fire on the third eastern block’s fifth wall. The Skorpion should try to head out as soon as it’s done reloading. Lycaon squadron, work with the 1st Alkonost Company and fire at number seven. The 22nd Company is to provide covering fire. Spearhead squadron, you are to—” 

The main screen flickered back to life, displaying all sorts of statistics. Sneaking a passing glance at it to confirm that her mental image of the battlefield matched what was going on, Lena resumed giving orders. It wasn’t an impossible feat, but even without extreme concentration or immersion, she reconstructed and maintained this map of the battlefield in her mind and kept giving orders in succession even after the screen came back to life. That was likely thanks to the Cicada’s assistance, but she’d also remained Resonated with an entire platoon at the same time. In which case… 

It was then that a silver sparkle fluttered into their field of vision. 

Everyone in the command post—Lena and Vika included—was caught off guard. A mechanical butterfly with wings as large as an adult’s hand. An Eintagsfliege. It had likely sneaked in before the blockade started and wandered about before finding its way here. It had crossed over the bedrock, which had no sensors to speak of, and had since had no way of abiding by its parent unit’s commands. It had likely found its way in on the verge of running out of energy. 

The Eintagsfliege flapped its wings once, as if hesitant, identifying the presence of hostiles faster than the human eye could. It flew with its wings spread menacingly in front of Lena, its steely veins shining bright. 

The Eintagsfliege… The type that disrupted radio, wireless, and all other forms of electronic communication by using powerful electromagnetic waves. And if a living body was exposed to those waves at close range, it would likely lead to fatal injury… 

The shrill noise intensified by the moment. Burning the air around it, the Eintagsfliege emanated an even stronger light— 

“—Daaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah!” 

Marcel rose to his feet and swatted down the Eintagsfliege with the butt of his assault rifle. The weak-winged fly shape was blown back and slammed against the floor by that impact. It floundered on the floor in an attempt to set off again, but the mechanism of its wings was apparently damaged. 

“…Well done, Second Lieutenant Marcel,” said Vika as he pulled out a gun and, with one flowing motion, aimed and fired at the Eintagsfliege. A 9 mm submachine gun, which only a few of the United Kingdom’s special forces carried. His shot accurately penetrated the Eintagsfliege’s central section and shattered it to bits. 

Lena released the breath she had unconsciously held the entire time. 

That…was close. Entirely too close. 

“Thank you, Second Lieutenant Marcel… You saved my life.” 

Perhaps all the tension left his body, because Marcel was even paler than she was. 

“No… Uh, I just kind of…did it. I mean, if I couldn’t do this, I wouldn’t be able to look Nouzen in the eye…” 

He sighed heavily, pulled back the chair he’d kicked away, and returned to his command console. The profile of his face, gazing into the holo-screen, made it clear he had already returned his mind to the battlefield. Lena recalled his personnel file—that before this young man became a control officer, he’d been a Vánagandr operator who’d served on the front lines, piloting a Feldreß, but had to change his role due to lasting damage from a leg injury. 

“…The next enemy is coming. Please resume command.” 

“…Shit.” 

An entire platoon of Sirins disappeared all at once as their Para-RAID targets vanished. Realizing the meaning behind that loss of signal, a young Handler swore under his breath. Once connected, the Sirins couldn’t cut the Resonance on their own, and so there could be only one reason why the Resonance would be severed against the will of the Handler. The poor girls—incapable of sleep or losing consciousness—had died. 

“Shit, shit, shit! Those goddamn inhuman Eighty-Six monsters! Using you as bait…” 

For the United Kingdom’s Handlers, the Sirins were not mere weapons. They were precious partners and trusted subordinates. Some even thought of them as their lovers, younger sisters, or daughters. These feelings were not limited to the Sirins, either. Handlers of war dogs and drones often developed empathy and excessive affection for their partners. Cases in which a Handler who’d had their drone destroyed rushed in for revenge for their partner were not uncommon. 

And that was even more true for the Sirins, who had personalities of their own—albeit artificial ones—and were made in the shape of innocent girls. And those Sirins were now being consumed one after another. Ordered to lead a decisive charge under a precipitous hundred-meter-tall cliff where they would be exposed to concentrated fire, they acted as bait to be cast aside. 

How could their Handlers’ hearts not ache for them? It was only natural the Handlers would feel rage and indignation toward the Eighty-Six, who pushed the Sirins onward to act as their decoys. All the Handlers felt that way to some extent. 

Had it been one of their northern brethren, then it would have still been tolerable. Had it been one of the royal bloodline, they might have even called it an honor. But to have a group of people of another race, from an inferior country, and of an inferior species who’d even cast their homeland aside, at that, use up and lead their beloved Sirins to destruction? That drove the Handlers to anger and resentment, so much more than the Sirins’ deaths themselves. 

Tears of rage and remorse trailed down their cheeks. For the sake of those foreigners, those inferior fools… For those monsters…? 

“God…dammit!” 

“Enough.” 

A single middle-aged soldier couldn’t watch this display any longer. The rank insignia on his purple-and-black uniform was that of a captain—the commander of all the Handlers present. 

“But, Captain!” 

“Regardless of what we may think, that’s what those girls are. People have volunteered to become those girls, knowing they would be treated like this. It’s nothing to get upset over… Besides…” 

As the commander of the Handlers in this base, he was Resonated with the Republic military officer girl who was commanding the siege, and thus with her direct subordinate, the boy who served as the Eighty-Six’s captain. And each of them was commanding over the battle while bottling up the pain of watching their comrades die. Their hearts also ached as they watched the Sirins, who weren’t even comrades to them, fall to ruin. 

It wasn’t that they weren’t sad over the loss… They weren’t simply watching them be destroyed without a care. 

And more than anything… 

“…there are Eighty-Six dying out there, too. To save their commander and His Highness, as well as us… Hating or resenting them would be misplaced.” 

The Legion weren’t falling for their feint of aiming at the main gate. Kurena had been searching for a decent vantage point to snipe from beneath the cliff but had been unsuccessful. 

“Tch…” 

It was only when he heard himself click his tongue that Shin realized he was becoming impatient and shook his head. Getting annoyed would get him nowhere. It would only lead to more deaths. But when considering the accumulated Alkonost and Juggernaut casualties and the rising number of the injured and dead—and in direct contrast, the ever-depleting amount of ammunition… 

And the most frustrating part of all was that in spite of all those sacrifices, they’d made no headway whatsoever. The time limit was closing in on them by the second, and with it, a growing sense of frustration was bubbling up from the pit of his stomach. The enemy’s reinforcements were drawing nearer, and the numbers of the enemies within the citadel didn’t seem to be diminishing. 

And it was exactly because he realized it, along with the fact that their numbers were only dwindling, that Shin could feel his grip on his temper grow gradually limper. They didn’t even have any way of knowing what was going on in the base, which was outside their reach. 

And it appeared he wasn’t the only one struck with impatience. 

“Second Lieutenant Matoba?! Stop! Obey your orders!” 

“But we have to keep firing! We have to keep them distracted, or— Gah!!” 

A platoon had violated orders and attempted to scale a wall located at the southern tip, only to suffer machine-gun fire from both sides and fall. Shin thought he could hear the unnatural sound of them landing on the anti-tank obstacles that hadn’t been moved and being run through. 

The Thunderbolt squadron rushed through the Skorpion fire, suffering losses in the process, and clung to the cliff face, only to find the Ameise looking down at them from the arrow slits along the breastworks. Having confirmed the Juggernauts’ positions, the Ameise retreated at once only to appear again, pushing something heavy in the process. Drum barrels, which they then pushed down the cliff. 

“…?!” 

The members of the Thunderbolt squadron kicked against the rock face to evade the drum barrels, and the next moment, they passed through where the squadron was and crashed down. Some were skewered by the anti-tank obstacles, and others crashed down onto the ground between them, the impact tearing them apart and squirting out something…a transparent liquid. 

Following that, self-propelled mines dived down the walls. Falling one hundred meters headfirst, they made crash landings and self-destructed as they hit the ground. 

A split second later, a wall of hellfire raged up toward the dull, snowy sky, standing between the squadron and the moat. The flames pushed aside the snow as they raged on, the updraft forming a maelstrom of sparks and snow, soaring up the lead-colored world in sparkling red radiance. 

Even Lerche sat dumbfounded within Chaika and then shouted, “Fire trenches…! They took the gasoline from the fuel bunkers!” 

More drum barrels tumbled down with dull thuds. Rebounding against a corner of the walls, they soared over the moat as they sprayed it with gasoline, further intensifying the flames. The Legion operated on electricity and didn’t require gasoline as a resource. They were free to use it without reserve as a stall tactic. 

Yes, a stall tactic. 

Shin shook his head slightly. 

“We can’t attack through here for a while… They used a nasty strategy against us.” 

The Juggernauts’ armor was made from aluminum alloy, which was weak to fire, as were their wires, which included carbon elements. Breaking through those flames and climbing up the walls as they were exposed to heat was practically impossible. 

A report came in from Theo: 

“We’ve got a report in from the recon unit. The other walls are all on fire… I don’t think the fire will last long under this snow, though. I guess we have to wait…” 

“…” 

In terms of rational judgment, that conclusion was correct. But time was on the Legion’s side. The enemy’s reinforcements were closing in while the citadel’s defenses were being whittled down. With all that in mind, simply waiting and wasting their time would be a poor choice… 

“…No.” 

Chaika, who stood beside him, looked up to the sky. 

“The snow is getting stronger… This…” 

The snowy sky grew darker still, and the snowflakes filling the air grew thicker. The decreasing temperature indicated that sunset was fast approaching. Fido towed away stranded Juggernauts and the charred wreckage of Alkonosts. Their energy packs, ammunition, and other consumables had been depleted for nothing as well. 

Their losses were that grave. 

“…might be all we can do today…” 

The sun set. 

The Eintagsfliege blanketing the sky reflected that day’s final rays of sunlight with their silver wings, brilliantly illuminating the heavenly sphere and the snow covering the earth. The world shone, its shadows growing all the darker. 

A picturesque portrait of madness, without a soul on the battlefield having the leisure to see it. 

With the sun setting, the fighting inside and outside the base died down. Confirming the information on the holo-screens, Vika sighed once and said, “Milizé, transfer command of the Strike Package to me for a while. Get some rest.” 

Leaving the command post vacant of a commander wasn’t an option during combat. That was the reasoning behind Vika’s instructions, but Lena shook her head earnestly. 

“No. You rest first, Vika.” 

“Are you intending to take command of a defensive battle when you’re fatigued? You have far less stamina than I do. So you should rest first… You’ve got bags under your eyes, and you look pale.” 

The fire trench’s flames eventually succumbed to the snow, extinguishing over the rocks once nothing remained to serve as fuel. By that point, dominion over the battlefield had shifted to the all-consuming snow. It wasn’t just falling heavily; the glacial wind blew it almost vertically, forming a white curtain that covered the Spearhead squadron’s field of vision. It was a vicious blizzard, as if the heavens themselves conspired against them. 

Moving forward was difficult, of course, and their optical sensors’ night-vision mode and radar were ineffective in this weather. Even their weapon-control system’s aiming reticle was blotted out by the white snow, and with them being unable to see the enemy if they were to run into them, and Shin’s recon alone not being able to guide all the Juggernauts ahead, they had to agree with Lerche’s statement that any more fighting that day would be impossible. Their Juggernauts and Alkonosts were in need of maintenance after half a day’s worth of vigorous exertion, as well. 

They made camp deep between the trees of the conifer forest, where the blizzard was less fierce. Leaving Undertaker to the maintenance crew that greeted them, Shin heaved a single sigh into the cold, snowy night. Michihi walked over to him, the snow crunching under her feet as she approached. She was an Orienta, just like Kaie—the blood of the continent’s east was thick in her veins. She was a petite girl with ivory skin and black hair tinged with brown. 

“Captain Nouzen, sir, the joints might freeze solid, and the auxiliary power’s voltage might drop, so any Juggernauts that aren’t on standby should be moved into the containers. The ones that are on standby are being warmed up with fires.” 

As he looked back at her, Michihi continued with a smile heavy with fatigue. 

“I’m from the northern front, so I’m used to fighting in the snow… We’ve got other people who served in the north, too, so we figured we could pass all the countermeasures along!” 

“…Thanks. But don’t overwork yourself. Rest for tomorrow.” 

“Yes, sir. You too, Captain.” 

Michihi gave a flutter of her hand and walked away. Seeing her off, Shin walked away, too. A group of Scavengers led by Fido returned, hauling in the recovered wreckage of destroyed Juggernauts. Combat medics pried the canopies open and pulled out the Processors, placing them on stretchers. Passing at their side were maintenance crews carrying body bags in teams of two with their lips pursed. Behind the tent set up beside the medical dispatch unit’s combat vehicle, Shin could see a mountain of black bags piled up before he opened the Spearhead squadron’s heavy transport car. Anju, who had returned ahead of him, greeted him with a smile. 

“Good work today. Kurena should be coming back from inspecting the rear guard any minute now.” 

“Right.” 

Inside the vehicle were Dustin, Theo, and for some reason Rito, who was there despite being from another squadron. Dustin handed Shin a mug full of instant coffee. 

“…A lot of people died.” 

“We Processors are still better off. Most of the Alkonosts died in our place.” 

“And we’re running low on ammo, energy packs, and repair parts, too… Not having a supply line really is hard.” 

Kurena came back, grumpily brushing the snow out of her reddish-brown hair, and sat down with them after accepting a steaming mug from a Sirin that walked over to her. 

“The Skorpion types retreated from the walls. According to what the prince says, they’re being serviced by some weird machine on the surface level. There’s only self-propelled mines on the walls right now. It’s actually pretty funny—with all the snow piling on them, they look like snowmen.” 

She said this without a hint of amusement in her voice. Shin looked at her, noting her sour mood from the sense of urgency produced by a mix of fatigue and a day without any progress. 

“They’re servicing the Skorpion types’ barrels… I suppose.” 

“Probably.” 

That was likely why the Legion had resorted to fire trenches to stall them. Howitzers were capable of horizontal fire but typically fired upward at a high angle. As the weight of the shells and the amount of gunpowder built up, the strain on the barrel increased. The Skorpion types had likely been driven into a situation in which they required maintenance after a full day’s skirmish. 

Watching the scene outside, Kurena shrugged. 

“That Sirin just said that if we give the order, they’ll go on alone. That they would take honor in their demise if it meant saving a life.” 

A faint yet noticeable tinge of disgust filled her golden eyes. The eyes of someone watching something they couldn’t comprehend. 

“Sorry, but I really do think they’re creepy… From their perspective, so many of their comrades died. They suffered far greater losses than our people did. But somehow, they can still smile like nothing happened.” 

They could see countless young men and women receiving cups from the Sirins around the camp, giving words of thanks but not looking directly at them. And the mechanical girls showed no signs of concern, merely giving ill-received smiles to the Processors as they continued tending to them. 

“Forever fearless, eternally tireless, and never knowing pain, huh…?” 

It was the same as the Legion they warred against. 

“They really are mechanical dolls… They break but never die. You can’t kill what’s already dead.” 

“But…,” Dustin said faintly, casting his gaze into his mug. “It feels wrong… It’s the same as when we had the Eighty-Six do all the fighting.” 

Theo raised his brows in annoyance. 

“So you’re saying we’re being the same as the white pigs here?” 

His harsh tone made Dustin wave his hands apologetically. 

“No, that’s not it! That’s not what I meant. I just…” 

After his gaze darted about for a few moments, he lowered his eyes sullenly. 

“I’m, um… I’m sorry.” 

“But…,” Rito began. “…It really does kind of feel like we’re looking at us from when we were in the Eighty-Sixth Sector. Especially back in the large-scale offensive, everyone died…clattering…just like that…” 

“………” 

Watching him hug his knees like a small child, Shin narrowed his eyes. So that was why he’d shown up. 

“Do you pity them?” 

“No… That’s not it. I mean, it’s like Second Lieutenant Kukumila said—they’re creepy. They’re not human. I don’t really get what they are, so I’m scared… But having them clatter and die like that makes me feel bad.” 

It gave him the feeling they might trace the Sirins’ footsteps and die the same way tomorrow. It was terrifying. 

That sentiment, which wasn’t spoken aloud, was one Shin wasn’t familiar with. He was used to seeing those beside him dying… He’d had to get used to it. 

“Do you want to stay behind in tomorrow’s battle? It might be better if it’s hard on you.” 

If the fear is that paralyzing…you’re better being off the battlefield. All it would do is send you rolling into an early grave. 

“…No.” 

Rito shook his head harshly after a moment’s silence. 

“No… It’s fine. We don’t have enough hands as is. And besides…” 

Rito pursed his lips and continued, as if trying to inspire himself, and slightly as if it was a curse. 

“…I’m…I’m an Eighty-Six, too.” 

Going back to her room, Lena disengaged the Cicada and switched back to her Prussian-blue uniform. She then took up the steel-blue uniform that had been tossed onto her bed. Frederica had brought someone’s spare uniform. Having it on had been oddly comforting, but once the battle ended, it would have to go back to its owner. She probably shouldn’t leave any wrinkles in it. With that thought, she tried folding it with unpracticed hands. 

But even though she was a soldier, for most of her life, Lena had put on only the clothes she had in her closet. And when she went back home, a maid would take her outfit and tend to it. When she spent time defending the Republic after its fall, Lena had had no choice but to learn how to tend to her own needs to some extent, but folding clothes still hadn’t been a concern of hers at the time. 

Especially when it came to a man’s jacket. 

After Lena fumbled with it for a while, Frederica, who had watched over her, sighed and snatched it from her hands. Since the number of people at the command post was currently larger than its intended capacity, the excess personnel had to share rooms in order to accommodate everyone. 

“Hand it over. You are utterly hopeless when it comes to housework, aren’t you?” 

“…Thank you, Aide Rosenfort.” 

“That title is bothersome. Simply call me Frederica, Vladilena.” 

Frederica folded the coat in an unexpectedly brisk, practiced manner. From what Shin had said about her, Frederica was about as skilled at cooking as Lena was, but apparently that wasn’t the case when it came to cleaning up. 

“…You’re good at this.” 

“Part of a Mascot’s role is to function as a maid, after all. Albeit they do not yet let me touch the clothing iron, claiming it to be too dangerous.” 

After pausing for thought, she placed the folded jacket on the desk and regarded Lena with a sidelong glance. 

“You were told to rest, no? I have brought us food, so sit down and take a break, I say.” 

“But…” 

Frederica made a truly, utterly unpleasant expression. 

“You truly are a slow one to understand, irritating girl, are you not…? The ones outside are also resting at the moment. Speak to Shinei for a bit, even if all you exchange is but a word or two.” 

They likely wouldn’t last the five days until aid arrived. At most, they could last another two. Plagued by exhaustion and impatience, Shin left the container after concluding his debriefing to the commanders, which was filled with nothing but bad news, and he found Lerche waiting for him. 

“It doesn’t seem like the snow will cease tonight… You can leave the guarding to us. You should all get some rest.” 

As he directed a questioning look at her, Lerche seemed to get a grasp on his query. 

“We require no rest, for we are mechanical birds.” 

“That might be true for you…but not for your Handlers.” 

“We require no command over us for a mere night watch. And some of the Handlers have prepared for a sleepless vigil.” 

…As would be natural. In siege battle, there was no guarantee night would mean hostilities ceased. Still, her offer was quite helpful for Shin as well. He could fight without a few days’ sleep, but his efficiency and judgment would suffer for it. If he could afford to rest, he would. 

“Thank you… I’ll warn you if anything changes.” 

Lerche blinked once. 

“Understood. I will leave one of us at your side… However…” 

The way she tilted her head struck Shin as a slightly childish gesture. Vika would sometimes call her a seven-year-old, which implied she’d begun operating seven years ago. That innocent gesture looked like one a child that age might make. 

“…Sir Reaper. Do you mean to imply you hear their screams even in your sleep…?” 

“Yes.” 

“That is…” 

Lerche was at a loss for words. And her green eyes took on a concerned look, which gave the impression that a real human was standing before him. The eyes of a person whose heart went out to another person’s pain. 

“That must be quite difficult for you. I can only imagine what it’s like, but having your rest disturbed at all times must be terrible torture for a human.” 

“…Not really.” 

This was an experience Shin had grown used to after ten years. The volume of the moans had almost doubled since the Sheepdogs had been introduced into the fray, but he had even grown used to that by now. 

“The Para-RAID was originally a reproduction of a human’s extrasensory ability. How good it would be if, in time, a mechanical limitation or reproduction of your ability could also be developed… Especially for us, who have no rest to be disturbed. We could set you free from the burden of having to warn others, without suffering any pain or strain.” 

Shin’s brow furrowed in annoyance. Set him free? 

“I didn’t enlist to serve as a warning alarm.” 

“I am well aware. Your enlisting in the military came purely of your will. You will likely say you are used to this as well, just as you had no choice but to grow accustomed to riding that unruly bronco of a Feldreß… But if I may freely express my opinion, you push yourself too hard, Sir Reaper. As do the other honorable Eighty-Six. You have the precious gift of life. You should cherish your well-being more.” 

It was a truly odd feeling to hear someone who was merely a copy of a dead person’s neural network—to hear Lerche, who was already dead—speak those words. As if they carried too much reality in them and were thus hard to refute. 

Or rather… 

“Why are you so fixated on us? To you, we’re just soldiers from another country.” 

Lerche paused for a moment, as if considering her words. 

“…Because we Sirins are, in a manner of speaking, like… Yes, like washing machines.” 

“………?” 

Washing machines? 

“Our role is to work in place of people. To partake in the labor of man is our purpose… And as a washing machine, watching the person before her toiling away as I sit unused, I cannot help but think, If only they were to let us handle all this strenuous work and devote their time to loving one another, to taking care of their children, to bettering and enjoying their lives. Because…” 

…those are the privileges we can never enjoy. 

As Shin stood silent, Lerche smiled at him. A proud, radiant grin, detached from how ghastly her words were. 

“We are the marriage of machinery and death, merged together for combat. We have no future. All we have is the purpose given to us. But you are the living, and you have the freedom to wish for something in the future… You can wish for anything, unlike us.” 

“…You’re…” 

“Not human, yes? Sir Reaper, to you, who can hear the voices of the dead, are we…?” 

As she asked him this with a bitter smile, Shin couldn’t bring himself to answer at once. He could hear the voices. Coming from the Sirins in front of him. Same as the Legion, those were voices of lament. Of those who died and were kept from where they were meant to be, of the ghosts who wept on and on, begging to be allowed to pass on. 

The same voices as so many of his comrades who’d become Black Sheep. Same as the distantly related young man he never met… Same as the brother he avenged. Which meant they were dead. They were no longer alive. If Shin were asked if they were counted among the living, he could answer only with denial. They weren’t alive. 

But for some reason, making that statement, telling them that they were only ghosts—that they weren’t human—was something he couldn’t bring himself to do. Because that would be tantamount to stating that his brother and his countless comrades weren’t human, either. 

Perhaps sensing the internal conflict behind Shin’s silence, Lerche shrugged. 

“…I see. We seem like nothing more than moving corpses to you, after all.” 

“…You’re not alive—that much is true. But…” 

Shin trailed off, as he was unable to put his thoughts in order, and she simply smiled brightly. 

“Do not misunderstand, Sir Reaper. I have no desire to become human, nor do I long to be treated as one. I am Prince Viktor’s sword and shield and therefore have no need for a human’s fragile heart and body… However…” 

Lerche looked down at her body and smiled faintly. 

“…I am not the person I was based on. I am but the final vestiges of that person’s brain. And that alone hurts my master… And having realized that makes me feel… Yes, it makes me feel lonely.” 

“………” 

Unlike the other Sirins’ voices, the voice crying out from within her wasn’t male. It didn’t belong to a United Kingdom soldier—who were only adult males—which meant it likely wasn’t someone who’d died in battle. And she had golden hair, indistinguishable from that of a human’s, and didn’t have a quasi-nerve crystal embedded in her forehead. 

She was probably fundamentally different from the other Sirins, which were to be used up on the battlefield in place of humans and were thus made distinct to mark them as such substitutes. Her appearance made it clear that she wasn’t intended for battle but was instead created with the intent of resurrecting one particular person. 

“…Who were you…originally?” 

Vika, I won’t leave you behind… 

Yes, the voice echoed its final thoughts but was at the same time repeating its wish to pass on, same as the voices of countless other ghosts. It was Lerche’s voice, albeit a few years younger. A youthful girl’s voice, like the chirping of a bird. 

“Lady Lerchenlied… She was His Highness’s milk sister.” 

So it was someone Vika knew… Same as his mother, who’d passed away soon after his birth. 

The Serpent of Shackles and Decay—Gadyuka. 

Such was the name of the viper, owing its reputation to the chain-like pattern of its scales; its venom, which was so potent it could corrode human flesh; and anecdotes that spoke of how it was born by eating through the flesh of its parents, thus killing them. This was apparently a superstition stemming from the fact that it was an ovoviviparous animal. It devoured those close to it simply by virtue of being alive. 

For the first time, Shin felt he understood the feelings of that serpentine prince, who willingly bore that name. Because carrying the burden of those closest to him dying was a feeling that stirred Shin’s heart just the same—one that was all too familiar. 

“From what I hear, she accompanied His Highness during his first battle and passed away there… This body was made in the image of Lady Lerchenlied.” 

—Does Lerche long to go back to where she belongs? 

Vika had asked him that… Because he was the one who’d tethered and bound her to this world. And that was the reason behind his expression when Shin confirmed that she did. 

“His Highness created me to resurrect Lady Lerchenlied. But my body and soul are not Lady Lerchenlied’s, and I possess none of her memories. That alone…is terribly frustrating.” 

“…My apologies for telling you something so strange. Please forget this conversation… And…have a good night.” 

And with a cheerful smile, Lerche left, and Shin returned to the armored transport vehicle. The Juggernauts were stored in the vehicle as well, but the other platoon members hadn’t returned yet. They were likely talking to their comrades from other squadrons. 

The Para-RAID turned on suddenly, and a familiar voice like a silver bell addressed him timidly. 

“—Shin?” 

“Lena. What…?” 

Shin was about to ask something and then gently fell silent. Lena’s voice didn’t have any shades of panic that indicated a state of emergency. It was the same slightly relaxed tone she’d had when she’d Resonated with them every night at that barracks. He involuntarily let slip a wry smile—he could tell something that had been unconsciously kept tense within him had suddenly loosened. 

Lena had apparently sighed with relief. Shin directed his question toward the relieved sensation across the Resonance: 

“Are you all right?” 

“We’re fine, somehow. Thanks to you guys keeping the Legion’s main force occupied.” 

She then asked earnestly, “You’re cold, aren’t you? Frederica said there’s a blizzard raging outside…” 

“It’s nothing we can’t handle. The Federacy’s front lines get pretty cold in the winter, even though it doesn’t quite compare to how chilly it gets around here. And we have gear to accommodate.” 

The armored transport vehicles were originally meant for long-distance transportation of Feldreß. They were built to serve as quasi-barracks for when the time came to stop to make camp, and while they were far from an ideal and comfortable lodging, they were good enough to rest in. If nothing else, it was far better than the cheap seat of that aluminum coffin’s cramped cockpit, which had been designed as if to spite the very idea of ergonomics. 

“Was anyone hurt…? I’d forgotten, but I can’t see that much with just the Para-RAID.” 

Shin’s voice possessed that same serene, levelheaded tone it always did. But it occurred to Lena that if he was to try to hide the truth of it from her…if he was to conceal it to spare her the pain of knowing someone was injured or killed, she’d have no way of knowing. 

“It’s the same as two years ago, isn’t it…? I’m inside the walls, and you guys have to endure all the fighting. If you get hurt or suffer…I won’t ever know unless you tell me.” 

And she shut them away in the battlefield to ensure her own survival. The reason Shin and the others were fighting was partially because they lacked the supplies to have everyone retreat and partially because they would leave Lena and the others behind to die in the fort if they did. Because they’d stopped out of concern for them when the citadel fell, and they’d been trapped in the blockade because of that. If Lena and the others hadn’t been here, they surely would have been able to retreat to safety. 

If anyone was hurt…if anyone was sacrificed for this, it would all be their fault. In which case, at the very least… 

“You’re in the most dangerous place of all right now, Lena. And it’s not like you’re not fighting, too,” Shin replied, perhaps aware of her inner conflict, perhaps not… It was this effortless kindness of his that allowed Lena to stay by his side. 

Before she knew it, a bitter smile played over her lips. 

And if so…if that’s the case…it should be me who says these cold words. 

“—Shin. If…” 

What Lena said next filled Shin with so much anger his hair stood on end for a moment. 

“…If you think you might get wiped out, I want you to forget about us and retreat… And if it’s impossible for all of you, then at least some of you—” 

“I’ll get mad, Lena.” 

He cut her off. That was one thing he couldn’t stand by and let her say. 

“Telling us to abandon you and run is an insult to us. So even if it’s you, Colonel… Even if that was an order, I won’t listen.” 

“I’m not telling you to run. A strategic retreat is a perfectly viable strategy… And it’s not like you’ve never abandoned things before. You’ve done it to defend your friends who were still alive. Like when you told Anju not to go after Kaie’s head.” 

“That’s… Tch…” 

He reflexively thought to deny her argument but fell silent when he realized he couldn’t. It wasn’t just Kaie. There were others he couldn’t save…so many others. He couldn’t let many people die for the sake of saving one person, and he wouldn’t risk his own life to cover for another, either. 

“You’re right, but…” 

“I’m not blaming you. You’re a squad captain, so it’s only natural you’d pick the path that would save the most lives… This is the same. I don’t want you to apologize for those choices.” 

“…!” 

It wasn’t the same. He had discarded things he deemed unnecessary more times than he could count. But they weren’t the same as leaving her here to die. It was true that for Shin and the Eighty-Six, comrades would eventually die. Everyone on the battlefield would disappear. Just like his father and mother and brother, who’d gone to fight ahead of him. Like the 576 comrades he took with him away from the Eighty-Sixth Sector. Like Eugene, whom he’d put out of his misery. 

Even Fido, who had fought alongside him longer than anyone, had left him at one point. The only difference was who left him first, but everyone eventually left Shin behind and went ahead, despite none of them wishing to die. And yet, she told him to abandon her so easily. Unbeknownst to her, her words tried to pry away the first wish he’d ever made. 

I want to show you the sea, he wished. 

Yet the words he heard were Leave me behind. 

If she was his comrade, if she fought by his side, that may mean that even Lena would eventually leave him behind as well. He knew that well enough. Or…he thought he did. Yet, despite that, he couldn’t acknowledge it. He didn’t want to even consider the possibility of losing her… 

“…Shin.” 

“No.” 

As he snapped back at her reflexively, even he couldn’t help but realize…that his voice sounded like that of a lost, hurt child throwing a tantrum.