“Allied forces—overrun. Bullets—low. Hostiles—many. May Aldorf be remembered.”

- Last Confederate Army broadcasts from Aldorf before bridge detonation.

+++

+++ Lieutenant Hans Hoffman +++

Rousselot City

AUG 1, 1538 CE

“You both…wouldn’t leave me?”

Hans felt himself frozen, as he stared back right at her. Instead of red eyes glowing in both hate and despair…it was now replaced by the crying eyes of an innocent child. He…

He really died again. And not just to anyone. But to the same child right in front of him.

Hans felt his throat go dry, as he stared at her without any words. It was that same night. When she asked him that question, he left the balcony without any answers. For what could Hans tell her?

How could he promise that he would never leave her?

That was a promise too massive, and too likely to be broken, that it would be a massive lie to tell her that. He was a soldier. So was Adelyn. They weren’t meant to stay with a child who was supposed to remain at home and grow into a person. Really, they were just her temporary caretakers trying to find a new home for her.

After all, he…he wouldn’t have the means to give her a proper home, now didn’t he?

“Sir Hans?”

“Alizée…you see…” Hans didn’t, again, he couldn’t give her a direct answer. He continued thinking about it, but there wasn’t any. Truth was, there was no answer. They were still searching for it. Anything he would tell her would be subject to change. And he didn’t like that one bit.

“Look, we’re still…”

She looked down.

“I understand…” she muttered. “I’m going to bed.”

Just then, Alizée passed by Hans, who still knelt, and left. Hans stood up and sighed to himself. He probably blundered again. Damn it, he blundered way too many times in the defense of the city. He had to fight two demons (not that he intended to fight the second one) in the worst possible tool set.

What was he even planning to do with his peashooter anyway?

“Damn it…” He ran his hands on his face. He could still feel that painful, stabbing cold. Quite frankly, he could barely remember anything except for her last words, the painful freezing pain, and the last hazy vision he had of her falling to her knees and crying.

“How the hell did that thing even get in?” Hans asked. “How? We were preparing defenses up north…”

More than that, it wasn’t in its monstrous form when it arrived. It even wore a cloak of some sort. This was…this was beyond bad. That creature must have been an intelligent variant of a demon. Or perhaps, it was more in control with its rampage. He didn’t know.

He needed to recce this entire situation.

But the problem…

“I can’t just use my Wanderfalke in this city,” Hans realized. “And all I have is small arms if it ever gets in.”

Or he could adequately prepare and have his Wanderfalke ready inside for a quick interception if it arrived. But that required planning of the timetable and about its nature. It must have sneaked its way in. That was all Hans knew. They were letting in so many refugees for days before the attack.

His eyes almost bulged out in fear.

Every day.

Hans realized.

Every day could be a potential time of attack.

Shakingly, he looked at his gloved hands. If it sneaked in, there was no way that he would know where it was, nor would he know when it entered. For all he knew, it was already inside on this day. For all he knew, it was already watching every step and move he was taking.

“I have no proper magic on myself,” Hans knew that problem. “I took the progress of lies skill instead of anything proper.”

Hans banged his fist on the banister. How would he even counter it in a densely populated city? In an environment without his Wanderfalke? Hans was no man-to-man fighter, he was a pilot, damn it. The last thing expected about him was fighting an enemy in a CQC situation with his own gun.

Hell, their defense weapons, his SMG, or in Adelyn’s case, her rifle, was only supposed to be used in utter emergency. It was only used when their mechs were downed, and they had to defend themselves while awaiting rescue.

The Countess.

Hans thought. Maybe they could?

Or them. Those IYC mercs. Or Captain Strobel. Or Father Olbrich.

Unfortunately, it was clear to Hans that only the powerful lord of the city, the singular Vanus here aside from him and Alizée, was capable of fighting demons with her magic and sword.

Think, damn it! Hans shouted to his mind. Think!

What were his priorities? His goals? His methods?

This was probably why those demons were devastating everything they touched, Hans thought. If he and Adelyn, two modern soldiers, could barely even contain it without perfect planning, preparations, and stratagems, then what hope did the scattered, underfunded, unpaid, and barely surviving troops of the Imperial Army do?

Maybe the IYC could do something good.

Maybe the Imperial Mage Corps had a chance (it seemed that they could kill it when they wanted to), but there was not a single one of them in this city. Not one. Absolute bastards. Hans tried to contain his fury. They should have been here. Not there. What the hell are they even doing?!

Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation.

Countess Fresnel managed to not just fight, but hold it off. That…that was the power of the Vanus, Hans finally realized. They had something material. Something worth the thousands of soldiers of this city that barely even stood a chance against Alizée and the “Tentacled Eel”. That was of course, quite useless if the Vanus and Virtus races were really as rare as they said.

And of course, it was only good news if Captain Strobel was wrong about their arrogance and uselessness.

“Useless elites, useless people in power, useless people with power, maybe except the Countess, and…” Hans looked in the distance. “What the heck am I fighting for?”

…What indeed?

“It’s okay, little one. It’ll be alright.”

Those words…

The same thing he told her when he picked her up from that burned-down convoy of carriages.

I guess I’m still fighting for something though.

But Hans sighed.

Still…what a pain in the arse. All of this could probably have been avoided if someone on top just had another functioning brain cell. I wonder what the Empress of this world is up to.

He looked at the stars.

For but a moment, Hans really wanted to at least have his platoon back. His last platoon wasn’t perfect, sure, but through all the screw-ups of High Command, he and 1st Platoon, and to a lesser extent, E Company, had always been in good control of the battlefield. It was how he turned into a full-fledged ace after all.

He always had buddies right behind him supporting him in all of his fights. Now it was just him and Adelyn. And while Adelyn was a good pilot…she was no member of the crack group that was 1st Platoon.

If only they were here, would they perhaps manage to fix all these screw-ups? In a way, Hans wanted the old crew at times to back him up. If this place was a circus, those clowns would fit right in to at least make this entire thing bearable.

Not that he would want to drag them all in this fate of his.

It was cold. Really damned cold.

I need some goddamned sleep.

He supposed, for now, he’d figure it all out alone.

After all…no one but him knew what would happen in the future.

No one but him.

+++

+++ Lieutenant Hans Hoffman +++

Confederation of Lotharingia

Southern Front

“I’m just saying, el-tee,” Hedwig was once again rambling over the comms. “My theory is absolutely true. It’s why they’re invading us. If only these morons had some better ladies they would have been more happy. And a happy Flandrian is a Flandrian who won’t invade us. Imagine if we give them a Lotharingian lady each. Again I tell you all this war is all about a lack of good—”

Suddenly, the other members of 1st Platoon stopped him before he could even utter another word from his deluded and most likely drug-induced mad ramblings.

“One-Three can you shut up over there? I’m trying to keep watch on my side and you’re filling the platoon-wide comms with your perversions. You need duct tape on that mouth of yours.”

“Can someone please mute that clown?”

“I’m just enlightening you all,” Hedwig countered. “Franz, I know you’re in on this theory man. What, you’re out of it now?”

“Don’t drag me into your bullshit, Hed. I have an intact mind out here.”

Hans laughed. Quite frankly, it was a boring ass night today on the southern front. They were all just sitting on the tree line, their Wanderfalkes all camouflaged, all as the thick snow fell on the battlefield. His entire platoon had been sitting here for half a day now, not a single order from above except to keep watch.

Thus…his men were all irate and bored as hell now. Corporal Hedwig Volker, the certified clown of their platoon, was naturally spazzing out endlessly on the comms, delivering his “enlightened” theories on why this ugly war even started in the first place. Naturally, Hans had long wanted to just turn off his radio and relax without that annoying mosquito buzzing endlessly on his internal speakers, but, then again it was partially entertaining.

“Tell me, Hedwig,” Hans keyed his comms. “Did you ingest too much Hi-Fuel again?”

“What, you got a problem with that? Ain’t nothing stopping me. In fact, I need to loot you bastards one by one tomorrow morning for it. Doubt the clowns up top are sending more. I need my fill.”

“Well, you better cut back on that one,” Hans replied. “And that’s an order. I don’t need sub-crackheads in my platoon tonight or tomorrow.”

“Well, you can come over to my shack and rip it off my hands, el-tee.”

Hans laughed. “And this is exactly the problem when you’re high on that dose. You keep buzzing like some old grandma at the fish market. You’re filling the comms with too much noise.”

“Aye…aye…fine….”

It finally turned quiet. Quite frankly, that was a nice change of pace. Hans watched the peaceful, cold winter ahead of them, only broken at times by distant explosions and gunfire. It was pretty sporadic though, and it was clearly not intense. Unless something went wrong, for now, they were far enough away from the actual frontlines.

“But come on…”

“Just when I had my peace you’re on it again…”

“I’m just telling man, this entire thing is multifaceted. I mean, the question is, how the hell are we losing? That’s strange. I mean have any of you seen A Company’s great old adventures? Fuckin’ Captain ‘Princess o’ the High Rivers and All Things Opulent’ went all in on that stupid stunt of her charging—”

“Franz, can you shut him up?”

“Don’t think I can, el-tee.”

“Like she went all in with her platoons charging in forward through a braindead flanking maneuver without even bothering to call air first. Then we had to save her arse out. What, did she think she was going all tactical and shit with that?”

“Hedwig, much as I’d like to hear your colorful feedback on our sister company’s commanding officer, I believe you’re quite sleep-deprived and in need of immediate relaxation,” Hans calmly said. “Have you been staring at your displays for too long?”

“I’m staring at a special magazine.”

Hans sighed. “Yeah, great, read that instead and shut up. Your theories, while quite the interesting thought experiment, is something I believe that should better fester in your mind instead, thank you very much.”

“I suppose you all simply want to live in blissful ignorance then.”

Franz laughed over the comms. “If being ‘enlightened’ entails your thinking process, I believe that we would all be better if you do all the thinking, Sir Wise.”

Hans nodded to himself as he added his thoughts.

“Better watch the zoo animal than be the zoo animal.”

“Agree on that, el-tee.”

“Wait, what the hell are you two talking about?” Hedwig asked. “At this rate, I’ll absolutely snitch on the two of you and report to our new lord and savior Captain von Wittenstein for a swift disciplinary measure for your collective bullying of this innocent person.”

“And there it is, gentlemen, he’s finally playing the victim,” one of the other members of 1st Platoon pointed out as he laughed.

“Well, go on baby boy,” Franz taunted. “Go tell your new mama how you’re being picked by the meanies over here.”

Just then, everyone soon exploded into laughter in the comms, Hans and even Hedwig included. Quite frankly, they were really just having some good fun on a cold, winter night. Even if they were all technically alone in their vehicles, they were all in this hell together, something which Hans valued at the very least.

Everyone at least was with him.

In this cold…he wasn’t alone in this fight.

Even if he was surrounded by absolute clowns.

“Hedwig…please unfuck yourself.”

“Copy, el-tee.”