Youjo Senki - Volume 12 - Chapter 3.8

THE SAME DAY, THE 8TH PANZER DIVISION

General Zettour, who was with the regiment under the pretense of rallying the soldiers, had been walking around with a natural gait greeting each and every face he knew well—and it was now the substitute commander Colonel Lergen’s turn.

As if fighting the enemy wasn’t enough of a stomachache on its own, having to sit with the general while he eagerly awaited the report that they’d made a breakthrough gave birth to a whole new kink in his digestive system. Colonel Lergen, who for better or for worse, routinely wore the iron mask of a military bureaucrat, knew that the time he spent pretending to look at a map while he kept his facial expressions under control would amount to mental torture. Which was why the colonel was praying for relief to come as soon as possible.

As fate would have it, a higher power seemed to have pity on his poor soul, as his prayers would be answered in the form of a running communications officer. The excited officer held out a message for the colonel, which had incredible news that had come straight from the front line—the news he had been waiting for. The colonel read it and nodded to himself before happily handing the message to General Zettour.

“Break through the enemy line at a point of our choice and surround them?”

The general finished reading Colonel Lergen’s note and rubbed his chin with a grin.

“So this is the vanguard unit’s decision.”

It could be said that Lieutenant Colonel Degurechaff possessed a truly grand outlook. The Empire was in a superior position. This was on top of the fact that the enemy’s main forces, its aerial mages, had already been removed from combat. The skies were clear as well. Having pulled as much as they could from the east and west, the Empire had managed to maintain aerial superiority so far. They had a good hand of cards, but even then, reports from the front lines that penetration could be made at will was about as splendid as things could get.

General Zettour had a choice to make. He folded his arms in thought.

“Yes.”

There were holes made up and down the enemy line, so he agreed with the report that they could penetrate any one of them. The general was caught off guard by the prospects of surrounding their bases, though.

Naturally, he was the first to take urban warfare into careful consideration when thinking about taking over the royal capital. It all depended on how the Ildoans fought their defense. Worst-case scenario, he could accept having to abandon their conquest on the Royal Capital altogether. But if they could surround the enemy field troops outside the city? Then it was free rein for the Imperial Army. In fact, he could even go to their capital for dinner just as he had phoned the embassy the night prior.

“What do you think, Colonel Lergen? It seems that Colonel Degurechaff, with that fine hunting dog nose of hers, has picked up the scent on a fantastic chance.”

“I agree, General.”

The colonel answered with a quick response and nod, prompting Zettour to display a satisfied grin.

“Then, Colonel. I believe it’s time you go out for a run as well.”

“I’ll do everything in my power to make this work! Now, please excuse me!”

Colonel Lergen gave a salute, then gallantly trotted out of the command center to give the orders to advance. The entirety of the 8th Panzer Division, which had been waiting for the orders, kicked into high gear on his orders.

The sudden change of pace almost looked like a panic, but the collective of soldiers doing exactly what they were supposed to do was like a well-tuned orchestra. Him offering a salute to the soldiers and officers waving their hats was a product of preestablished harmony.

The general knew it wouldn’t be long until he heard the results of the attack. They were going to win a complete victory.

“It’s funny. When the enemy falls, it’s always all at once.”

The enemy was unable to fight against the brunt of the Empire’s attack. Zettour couldn’t help but mutter to himself his sense of dissatisfaction in the show they were putting on for him.

“The defensive line established by the Ildoan-Unified troops appeared firm, but that firmness is only determined by the soldiers inside the bases.”

It reminded him of a time when he was a young officer who had been assigned to be an observer. To the best of his memory, he’d debated with Rudersdorf on the importance of a will to fight when engaging in positional warfare.

“I argued the defenders held the advantage, and he argued it was the will to fight that mattered above all else.”

Judging by these results, it appeared both sides of the argument were true.

A base with soldiers who hid inside it without a strong will to fight could not persevere against a determined attacker. That said, defenders within a base who had a strong will to fight were nigh impenetrable. It could be considered the obvious conclusion. Although, no matter how willing to fight the defenders were, or how solidified their base was, in the end, fire and national power prevailed. Power had the ability to mow down any defense, and in conclusion, national strategy was the be-all and end-all.

“Argh.”

Zettour grumbled. He was the supreme commander of the Imperial Army and a lone man foolishly challenging the world to war. There was no amount of effort he could put forward to garner a national strategy that could actually defeat the world. How lonely it was to be in such a powerless position.

“The Empire and its army are undoubtedly powerful.”

What his nation did have was fists capable of pummeling Ildoa as well as the soldiers the Unified States sent to help. Centered around its panzer units, the Imperial Army’s exercise of power was like something out of a textbook.

It was a feat that had been made possibly by Lieutenant Colonel Degurechaff and Colonel Lergen. The Imperial Army surrounded the Ildoan Army, who insisted on holding their positions outside the capital. Once they had the enemy surrounded, they came under attack from US forces who came to relieve their allies, which the Empire purposefully allowed to penetrate their encirclement before closing the hole up behind them and continuing their siege.

If this had been a boxing match, then that maneuver would have been a perfectly executed counterpunch. A single counter used to knock out the enemy in the ring of the century.

What became of the soldiers the Ildoan citizens watched from the city with hope? They were facedown in the ring, unconscious, leaving the capital defenseless.

By the time the citizens realized that their defense had crumbled away, the Imperial Army 8th Panzer Division had already set foot in the heart of the Ildoan royal capital. Of course, this rapid pace was something the Imperial Army needed desperately. To take control of a city full of civilians, both domestic and foreign…there was very little margin for error.

Colonel Lergen brought the command center into the city and immediately began administering the occupation and dealing with the many new problems that were cropping up…which a person at General Zettour’s level had no business meddling in.

Instead, the general was plucked out of the base and brought to his car by his entourage. In stricter terms, it wasn’t as if he was actually leaving the colonel to do his job, but…his purpose for being there—namely, the soldiers he was there to encourage—had made incredible gains. Most of the officers assumed that his guards were getting him out of there after a job well done…

Zettour, however, felt no need to fall in line with their assumption. He appreciated his security detail finally giving him some relative privacy and took the time to think while he enjoyed a cigarette.

The situation was good. The enemy had lost their will to fight with a swift attack. There was a chance that survivors would re-collaborate to pose a counteroffensive…but he had a good bodyguard sitting right next to him.

Weighing the risks against the merits in his mind, Zettour came to his conclusion: that since he had the aerial mages led by Degurechaff with him, his scheme was worth a shot.

His scheme to leave his name in history, that is.

His name would be the one left in history books for the world to peruse. Unless he was desperate to prevent this from happening, it would be irrational for him to hesitate at this moment—the moment he claimed Ildoa.

There were times, after all, when military rationale must kneel before political and national demands.

“Lieutenant Grantz. Do you have a moment?”

The young mage lieutenant ran up to the general. He likely intended to show a stern face, but his expression was just stiff. The young man had good instincts, but Zettour was in no position to show any mercy. Thus, he would cajole the young lad in terms a soldier could understand.

“Bring me toward the capital. We must make haste. Hesitation could lose us this prime opportunity.”

“Yes, sir!”

Grantz nodded and got straight to work, obedient soldier that he was. He didn’t make an effort to prolong the preparations or play any tricks to stall. Instead, the convoy set out soon to head to the Ildoan capital.

An easy trip it was, on the nation’s beautiful roads. Setting aside the company of aerial mages defending his vehicle, it was a pleasant day for a drive.

“My guards aren’t giving me any lip. Finally, some time to myself.”

General Zettour enjoyed a cigar in the back of his car as he savored this moment of peace and quiet. Although it wasn’t long before First Lieutenant Grantz, being the good soldier he was, grew curious about their exact destination.

“Do you mind if I ask where we are headed?”

“You’ll find out once we reach the capital.”

The general answered in vague terms, though it was more difficult to keep up the facade when they entered city limits.

“General, are we going to the palace, or a government facility? Or are we set to convene with Colonel Lergen at the new headquarters?”

“Hm? Ah, this isn’t an official advance.”

The young lieutenant was utterly confused by these words. He likely assumed he was advancing the general into the city for official business related to its occupation… Keeping him confused kept him quiet, so it wasn’t too big of a problem.

“I suppose we’ve come far enough.”

Zettour gave Grantz a wide grin. This was enough for the poor boy to realize the dire straits he had landed in. The first lieutenant immediately stiffened up. Seeing this, Zettour, as his general in command, politely asked him:

“What do you say, Lieutenant Grantz. Are you in the mood for a walk?”

“Sir, you don’t intend on stepping out of the car, do you?”

First Lieutenant Grantz did everything in his power, even shooting an overtly cautious glance outside of the car, begging his superior not to do so. Though unable to talk back to his superior, he made his concern utterly clear. He was a good young man, but this didn’t amount to anything.

“Look how wonderful the street is. Is it unrefined of me to want to go for a little stroll? Let’s go outside.”

It wasn’t as if First Lieutenant Grantz’s concerns were lost on the general, of course.

An urban environment was a nightmare for those charged with keeping him safe. There were blind spots in every direction inside this concrete jungle, with tall buildings offering enemy snipers countless vantage points. Given the hostile civilian populace, everyone was a potential threat.

Even for the elite aerial mages who made up his security detail, defending him in this environment was a tall task.

But this was where the general wanted to go.

“General Zettour, are you truly going to go for a walk here?”

Grantz appealed for the general not to. He needed the general to change his mind at all costs. He was just a first lieutenant, though. It was outrageous for him to even give his opinion to the general.

“Did you not hear me? The falling of the royal capital is a historic event. We should take this rare chance to march through the town triumphantly.”

“March…? Uh, due to cautionary reasons, I—”

“Cautionary? You’re a soldier, man, toughen up. Do you want the world to think I was some sort of scaredy-cat?”

Grantz began shaking when the ill-tempered General shot him a nasty glare. He could feel the sweat dampening the collar of his uniform and even began to feel a bit dizzy. Nevertheless, he needed to fulfill his duty as the general’s bodyguard.

“I’m sorry, General, but we’re in enemy territory! This is the capital we’ve just seized! It’s far too dangerous out there! Please…stay in the car!”

“You’re got it backward.”

“What do you mean?”

“Do you want it to look like the deputy director of the Imperial Army was hiding in the back like a coward? It’s more dangerous for me to stay hidden away.”

This sort of angry reaction from a general was a nightmare for a lower-ranking soldier.

“Understood… We’ll be surrounding you as you walk.”

“Are you dull in the head? Maybe I should’ve listened to Colonel Degurechaff when she said you weren’t fit to be a guard. Listen, the whole point is that I don’t want to make myself look like a coward. Guard me from far away.”

And just like that, the general whimsically opened the car door and stepped onto the Ildoan road. To start off with, General Zettour, as natural as could be, stretched his back. He then stretched his arms before taking a cigar out and blowing smoke toward the beautiful Ildoan sky.

With the simple expression a man makes when he enjoys a good cigar, he began walking. He stood up straight as he walked, blowing out more smoke.

His nice and shiny shoes clacked as he made his way down the stone road, and his freshly starched pants were picture perfect, as if this were a military parade, thanks to the diligent orderly who had prepared them.

Looking dignified, he walked down the road in leisure. His swagger told a story of a man who hadn’t a fear in the world.

Historic landmarks seemed to line this road in particular, and every now and then, the general would stop and read the metal plates mounted here and there that explained the spot’s significance, like some stereotypical middle-aged civilian tourist.

This was enemy territory, and the old tourist was a general. As if the rank insignia that lined his lapel didn’t stand out enough, there was a civilian car heralding his insignia on a flag that followed close by. The sheer fear caused by the sight made his bodyguard, Grantz, dizzy with nausea. What if there was a sniper in one of the buildings? It didn’t matter, the general was out in the open. It wouldn’t require an expert sniper to take him out.

“Would you mind walking a bit faster?”

Grantz murmured to himself, but his concern was all but lost on General Zettour, who made no effort to speed up his stroll. He seemed more interested in the historical spot he’d stumbled upon and even went to fetch a camera from the car.

The general gathered his security detail for a picture, even making them pose, as if this were a commemorative photo. Grantz was falling apart on the inside, but the general paid him no mind as he took a small break where he stood. Mingling with the soldiers was what good officers did, but having said that…even if Grantz was an officer, he was also in charge of the general’s safety, which was why he was horrified.

The smiling general, offering cigars to the other soldiers, was like a literal sitting duck. A first-year soldier who’d only learned to fire a gun that day could easily have taken him out with the urban camouflage of the city streets.

With the scenario at hand, the general was acting like a daredevil. It was as if he was trying to provoke the enemy into doing so.

“Whenever…wherever…”

He could hardly think as he watched. The sheer uneasiness was burning away at Grantz, who saw an enemy at every street corner. But the general?! He was just waltzing around, leisurely as could be! Without his guards there defending him, what would this look like?!

General Zettour’s guards, too, must’ve been enveloped in his leisurely disposition, because they were starting to show no signs of caution.

For better or worse, the surrounding Ildoans didn’t look on their group with vicious eyes…but it was hard to guess when a person would try to kill someone. Grantz knew this from his experience in the Rhine, in Arene, and in the east. He knew that Ildoa, no matter how blue its sky was, was no different.

Moved by his sense of danger, Grantz finally ran up to his superior’s boss.

“Oh, Lieutenant Grantz. Do you want a cigar?”

“I—I appreciate the offer, but I need to take care of my lungs. We regularly fly at high altitudes, so it’s critical we refrain from smoking.”

In the spur of the moment, Grantz gave an honest response when he rejected the cigar, but the problem at hand was much more severe than his respiratory health.

“General Zettour, the longer we’re out in the open, the more likely someone bad will find out. Let’s not stay in one place too long.”

“Oh, Lieutenant. You’re so pure. Take a look around for yourself.”

General Zettour placed his hand on Grantz’s shoulder and spoke with a magnanimous tone.

“Where exactly do you see a threat? There’s nothing threatening about where we are right now, if you ask me.”

“Well, we have defeated the enemy field army.”

“Then what’s there to worry about?”

“I don’t mean to step out of line, but while we’ve defeated their army, the reality is there are still potential enemies lurking about. When it comes to keeping you safe, this situation is far from ideal.”

Grantz thought as he said this.

We’re way too out in the open. You’re an Imperial general, the highest-ranking general there is! What if someone is out for revenge? Or a surviving soldier who knows how to take the perfect shot, or some rabid patriot just waiting out there?

“You’re such a worrywart. You would’ve brought me to the front lines in the Federation had I ordered you to, wouldn’t you? Was I misguided in placing my hopes in a company as excellent as yours for my defense?”

“We’re willing to follow your orders, no matter what they are.”

“Then if I order you to stop bugging me about this, will you stop?”

Grantz was more than prepared to do battle. He’d throw himself in front of a stray bullet to cover the general if he had to. But there were too many angles he couldn’t cover where they were in the city.

“I don’t mean to be difficult, but us mages aren’t as all-powerful as you think we are.”

While a mage could use their magic and defensive shell to protect others…they couldn’t move faster than flying bullets. The soldiers in his company weren’t even proper guards in any sense of the word. Elite though they might be, Grantz’s lack of experience made him anxious. What’s more, a company simply didn’t provide enough manpower to protect someone in an urban environment.

They needed to search all the surrounding buildings to confirm the general’s safety, but he just didn’t have the numbers. Sending out the handful of soldiers he had was like pissing in the ocean. The most he could do was have a few of them walk ahead while the rest of them followed. Though Grantz himself didn’t have the authority to order the foot soldiers to do anything anyway.

It was going to be the general who had to give them their orders, but he seemed to have no interest in his own safety as he simply walked down Ildoa’s streets. Streets full of people!

Grantz almost wanted to cry at the absurdity. General Zettour, as if having found fault in the lieutenant’s grim expression, let out a loud, ostentatious sigh.

“Lieutenant Grantz. You’re still young. Why don’t you take this day to celebrate a nice victory?”

“The colonel taught us to tighten our helmets after a victory.”

“That’s wonderful advice. Although it isn’t the advice a person should ever have to give.”

His superior’s superior could say whatever he wanted, but Grantz couldn’t allow himself to agree or disagree. Grantz found himself recalling an old expression.

Silence is golden, and eloquence is silver. It was something people used to say.

“Your superior is a monster who believes others can do exactly as she can. Am I wrong, Lieutenant?”

“The colonel is an incredibly capable person, after all…”

“They say the Imperial Army is made of many faces, but she is several cuts above the rest.”

General Zettour rubbed his chin with a satisfied look. He then adjusted the cigar in his mouth and took a moment to enjoy it again.

“That said, one must rejoice when the time calls for it. It can be quite taxing on your mental health to neglect making the most of every opportunity to do so.”

“Does good progress warrant dropping everything to rejoice?”

“I want you to look at this capital. We’ve acquired so many munitions and crushed so many enemies. And now this beautiful capital is ours.”

The general was being theatrical in his speech, but there was a truth to what he said. Grantz even reminded himself how easy it would be to simply agree with him.

However, Grantz refused to look away from the harsh reality, as he was taught to. Even with the general, he wouldn’t allow himself to daydream.

“General, the enemy forces have only lost on one flank.”

Reality was reality, and the world was the world.

Grantz had been made to realize that the world never was the way one wished for it to be—that they lived in a strict and cruel reality.

This was why, even when speaking with the highest general of his army, Grantz would not falter in defending his perspective.

“Today’s victory was, at most, a small one.”

“You’re precisely right.”

The general spat his cigarette on the ground and stamped it out while tightening up his soft expression and glaring into Lieutenant Grantz’s eyes with dead seriousness.

“What you said is accurate and correct. I thank you for your unvarnished words.”

As he said this, he grabbed the lieutenant by his collar and pulled him closer with impressive strength.

“Which is why I need you to shut your damn trap.”

He whispered in Grantz’s ear with a chilling intensity.

“I…what?”

“You mustn’t bend the knee to sound logic.”

The general’s stark determination in his actions could be heard clearly in his chilling tone

“Now smile, Lieutenant.”

The general’s friendly demeanor disappeared, and his words were strained.

“I said smile; it doesn’t need to be real. Smile like an idiot. That’s an order.”

“You want me to…smile?”

“That’s correct. Do not show them your weakness. I don’t care if it’s fake, you mustn’t allow the enemy to know what dire straits the Empire is in right now,” General Zettour whispered in a subzero tone to Grantz, who would swallow whatever he was about to say. “Throw away your pretensions. You don’t need to act well, just do what I need you to.”

Grantz stared right into the general’s eyes, something he regretted immediately.

“You are a conqueror. Say it to yourself, I am powerful. I don’t care if you have to trick yourself about this, either. Just make sure you never let anyone watching get the opportunity to figure out if it’s true.”

Staring into the general’s eyes, he saw the depths of true nothingness. It was like staring into an abyss.

“You must trick the world. It isn’t much to ask, to put on a nice face. Go on, do it. Trick yourself.”

What was he saying?

Soldiers, your peers, and regular people all set their eyes on two things. Your rank and your face. This is something they teach you early at the academy.

“I’ll k-keep that in mind.”

“Never forget it. Smiling is a part of an officer’s job. Haven’t you learned anything working under Colonel Degurechaff?”

At that point, General Zettour caught himself where he stood. He rubbed his chin once before offering a wry chuckle. From what Grantz could tell, this was the first actual, non-twisted smile he’d shown all day.

“Your superior, she may be laughing earnestly. She may find what we’re doing here genuinely entertaining.”

“She is the colonel…”

Grantz found himself in agreement. It was true, she always had a smile on her face. Whether it was a self-deprecating sneer, or her happily humming a war song, he never once saw her panic before. Strangely enough, whenever he struggled at his limit, looking at his superior would always bring a smile out of him. He had never seen her show distress when backed into a corner for as long as he could remember.

A part of him questioned whether this was the case for her adjutant, Visha, but it was nothing more than speculation.

“Whatever happens, I want you to smile, Lieutenant. Smiling is important.”

General Zettour wore a smile of his own.

“The Imperial Army will kick the daylights out of our enemies. You’ll see, in the newspaper. Our power will go down in history.”

There would likely be articles and caricatures in the newspaper describing it. The majesty of the Empire, its power, and the menace it was.

Which was why the general would whisper a final thought into the young lieutenant’s ear.

“We’re going to give the world a good taste of our boot leather, you hear?”

1 Tanya wants to say NO! but she knows she can’t. Not to her boss. She’s his sycophant, like a true-blue middle manager.

2 Evidently, tanks and other armored vehicles are vulnerable to attacks from above, which means attacking their top section is an easy way to take them out. It’s also a magic word that is cause for many typos in the Carlo Zen-o-sphere, with myself being a culprit that frequently ends up with Top Down Attack/Top Up Attack. My publisher, though, takes the cake with a random Top Down Up typo.

3 A wedge-shaped tank formation made for advancing. This is primarily used when attacking heavily fortified positions with anti-tank defenses. Apparently, tankers hate fighting dug-in enemies. Incidentally, it turns out anti-tank gunners hate fighting tanks, so the feelings are mutual.