There Is No Way to Penetrate the Republic's New Tank

The incident erupted without warning.

I was just about to uncork the top-grade brandy sent by the House of Duke Stahlberg, each bottle worth a soldier's annual salary.

Bang-!

The hotel door burst open as though it were about to break. There was no knock or announcement of rank and name.

Major Helga von Strauss entered. Her expression was not merely pale—it was ashen.

"…Pack your things, Captain Jaeger."

"Don't tell me it's parade time again? The eastern plaza this time?"

I asked with deliberate composure, but Helga was anything but composed.

"No."

What Helga held out was not an event schedule but a yellowed document envelope. Written in red across the front were the words 'Transfer Orders.'

"Your leave is over. The 7th Brigade is moving to the Western Front as of today."

"…The Western Front? Don't tell me…"

I swallowed dryly.

"That's right. The Republic has launched a preemptive attack. They must have felt seriously threatened when we occupied the Ashen Forest."

The Western Front stretched a long way, of course. The Empire was vast, and its western border touched countless powers. There were savage nonhumans like the orcs of the Ashen Forest, but the most troublesome opponent was another human power.

The human nation known as the 'Republic.'

The Republic was practically the Empire's archenemy. The two countries shared a long border and possessed formidable national power and technology. Naturally, they had clashed countless times throughout history.

The two nations had even gone to war ten years ago. They were supposed to be under a truce now.

"They broke the armistice. At dawn today, they shelled the border fortresses with their new tanks at the forefront. The 3rd Army's defensive line collapsed in half a day. The situation is serious."

I stared at the bottle of brandy.

My stocks. My real estate. And the peaceful military career I had dreamed of.

I could hear all of it shattering. Not orcs, but fellow humans—and ones from a republic whose technology was equal to or superior to the Empire's.

"……Fuck."

The profanity finally escaped my lips.

*

Several hours later, at Platform 4 of Imperial Central Station.

The scene was complete chaos. The acrid smoke belching from the steam locomotive mingled with the heat given off by thousands of soldiers, making it hard to breathe.

"Second Company! Move it! Is this your first time on a train?!"

Gunther's roar reverberated across the platform.

"Stop dawdling and shove it in! Load the equipment first, then fit the men into every empty space!"

Under his rough command, our company was crammed into the freight cars like baggage. It was called troop transport, but in reality, it was no different from hauling livestock.

"Ugh… Captain, this really isn't a place for people."

Sergeant Kurt came over, sweating profusely.

"Endure it. Were you expecting a sleeper car on the way to the battlefield?"

"No, but still, we were supposedly the hero unit of the Ashen Forest. This is a pretty shabby way to treat us…"

"Go get the men some extra hardtack. We might not even have time to eat once we reach the front."

I kicked Kurt in the back and sent him away. Though he looked miserable, he quickly ran toward the supply boxes.

The atmosphere was definitely different. It was far more serious than during the campaign in the Ashen Forest. The soldiers knew it, too. We were heading for a battlefield where the odds were against us.

'Damn it.'

I roughly loosened my tie as I walked toward the front of the platform. There was a first-class section reserved for officers and senior commanders.

"Damn, damn, damn!"

The first thing I heard upon entering the first-class carriage was Brigadier General Karl von Dietrich's hysterical screaming.

"My star! My career as a general! I was finally about to set foot in central politics, and now the Republic?! Armored units?! This is impossible!"

'Status Analysis.'

[Name: Karl von Dietrich]

[Status: Extreme fear, panic, denial of reality]

[Emotion: Wants to strip naked and run away right now, but fears disgracing himself even more.]

'Hah, the old fox has turned cowardly.'

I clicked my tongue. It would be a problem if the brigade commander lost his head. If the commander gave a foolish order, we would be the ones dying for it.

'Captivating Speech.'

[The skill 'Captivating Speech' is activated.]

I spoke in a deliberately calm voice, but clearly enough for him to hear.

"Brigade Commander, this is an opportunity."

"…What? An opportunity? Are you insane?"

Dietrich widened his eyes as though he had heard complete nonsense. But I met his gaze without wavering.

"Think about it. The campaign against the orcs was nothing more than a localized border conflict. The high-ranking figures in the capital don't think much of defeating barbarians. They are quick to dismiss it as mere luck."

I stepped closer and whispered conspiratorially.

"But the war against the Republic is different. This is the main theater, one that His Majesty the Emperor watches while losing sleep."

"Th-that…"

"Isn't the 7th Brigade the Empire's strongest unit? If we stop the crisis on the Western Front, then promotion to major general—and even lieutenant general—won't be a dream. A position in Central Command will practically be guaranteed."

"L-lieutenant general… Central Command…"

[The skill 'Captivating Speech' affects 'Karl von Dietrich'.]

['Karl von Dietrich's' ambition and greed have been successfully stimulated.]

Dietrich's pupils shook. In the eyes that had been filled with fear, a spark called greed had begun to glow.

Courage was not what overcame fear. Greater desire did.

"R-right, isn't it? We're the hero unit, after all. And we have you, as well as Major Seraphina…"

"Of course. I'll support you. Who are we, after all?"

"Yes… Yes! I'll trust your word, Captain Jaeger! Hahaha, that's right. A crisis is an opportunity!"

"Then I'll take my leave."

I saluted and left the first-class carriage.

Click.

The moment the door closed, the brigade commander's laughter was cut off. In its place came the clatter of the train and a blast of acrid smoke.

"Phew…."

I let out a deep sigh and retightened my tie. It had merely been sweet talk to calm the brigade commander; the fact that reality was a cesspit hadn't changed.

'As if a crisis is an opportunity.'

*

Screeeech-!

With a sharp squeal of brakes, the enormous steam locomotive came to a stop. Outside the window, Rosenheim Station, a key strategic point on the Western Front, came into view.

"Everyone off! Move quickly! Don't dawdle!"

At Sergeant Gunther's shout, the soldiers began scrambling to get out.

"Aaaagh! My leg! My leg!"

"Medic! Bring some hemostatic over here!"

And the moment we got off, we were greeted by a hellscape of utter chaos.

Wounded soldiers evacuated from the front lay sprawled in every corner of the platform. The foul stench of blood, disinfectant, and burning flesh stabbed at my nose.

I scanned one of the wounded men being carried away on a stretcher.

'Status Analysis.'

[Rank: Private First Class]

[Status: Massive blood loss, shock, right leg amputated by fragments from a high-explosive shell]

'High-explosive shell fragments.'

These were not the crude axes or primitive sorcery of the orcs. They were the traces left by modern shells fired from precisely machined rifled barrels.

Then it happened.

Wheeeeeeng-!

A shrill air-raid siren rang through Rosenheim Station.

KABOOM-!

There was no time to think. The station roof was torn apart like paper, and fragments rained down.

"Air raid! Get down!"

At someone's shout, I threw myself to the floor. The orcs of the Ashen Forest had been child's play. What rained down overhead was not sorcery, but the roar of modern warfare as bombs fell and 88mm anti-aircraft guns tore everything apart.

"Everyone, move! We'll all die if we stay here!"

I grabbed the collar of a rookie staring blankly at the sky and dragged the rookie along.

"Where do we go, Captain?!"

"Get into the underground bunker!"

We ran across the half-collapsed city, leaving the station behind as bombs rained down. That was Rosenheim's welcoming ceremony.

*

A temporary command post in an underground bunker.

The damp air reeked of mold. Inside, the staff of the 7th Brigade and the officers of the 3rd Army who had been defending the existing line were mixed together, shouting at one another.

"The tank armor is too thick! Even anti-tank guns can't penetrate it!"

"Where is the rear support?! If Sector 5 falls, the road to headquarters will be wide open!"

Amid the chaos of shouting voices, Brigadier General Dietrich stared down at the operational map with a grave expression.

'What a mess.'

When I approached, the brigade commander raised his head as though he had seen a savior.

"Oh, Captain Jaeger! You've arrived! The situation… is very bad."

He pointed at the ceiling with a trembling hand.

"The Republic bastards are going all in. This isn't a mere local conflict. An armored division—and an elite one at that—is leading the assault."

Bang-! Rumble….

The entire bunker shook violently before he had even finished speaking.

"They have air support as well."

"That's not the problem."

The brigade commander sighed and held out a black-and-white photograph that had been shoved into the corner of the table.

"Look at this. The reconnaissance team took it at the cost of their lives."

The photograph showed a bluntly shaped monster of steel. It had smoothly sloped armor and a thick, lengthy main gun. It was in an entirely different class from the old tanks of the Imperial Army.

'Insane.'

I furrowed my brow. It was the Republic's main medium tank model from the game.

Its armor embodied the technology of the mid-twentieth century, making it impossible to penetrate with weapons carried by infantry. Even Seraphina's mana bullets had a high chance of ricocheting off it.

"The higher-ups have issued only one order."

Brigadier General Dietrich spoke in a trembling voice.

"Stop them, even if it kills you."

It was practically a death sentence. They were ordering an ordinary infantry brigade to stop an elite armored division. No sane headquarters could have issued such an order. Despair was etched across the faces of the staff around us.

But my gaze was fixed neither on the despairing command post nor on the tank in the photograph. It was focused on an incongruous memory from moments earlier at the train station.

The enormous gun barrels defending Rosenheim Station.

'There definitely were anti-aircraft guns.'

You say they can't penetrate armor?

"Brigade Commander, there's no need to die."

I twisted up the corner of my mouth and spoke to the brigade commander.

"All we have to do is lower our heads a little, after all."