"We've seen many battles. During the Great War—Liebnich, Hambois, Artun—we were there…all in the fields of Gallia. Then, in this civil war—the Grand Duchy, the Free Confederation, Thein…now, a new one would soon add itself to the list. Lieplatz. Brothers, see you in the frozen fields. The list of the bloody adventures of Orlishmen will surely continue to grow. One wonders when we will be paid for our neverending service."

- Liberty One Radio

"'¡Avanza Asturia!' These words are repeated throughout Asturia, as the forces of the Republic successfully push back Gallian forces five kilometers from their starting positions in an all-out winter counter-offensive. Gallian trench lines and defensive emplacements were shattered in the first three days of the offensive by Asturian heavy batteries. Gallian forces reportedly lost the counter-battery fight, as shell shortages plagued the Gallian Army, a fact unshared by the Asturian Republican Defense Forces (ARDF) due to the rapidly expanding industrial output from central Asturia. The revolution can clearly push on—through sheer industrial strength!"

- The Front Newspaper

+++

Northwestern Orland

Ten-Kilometers from the Orland–Lieplatz Border

"Tensions are now increasing—"

The female reporter behind a moving Löwe tank spoke in front of the camera as the continued OAF deployment around the small city was ongoing. Parked LSS Mechs, HMLVs, Löwe's, and the array of OAF vehicles filled the streets, as civilians, mostly women, watched by the wayside.

Infantry mingled on the side, mostly in pairs, sightseeing the old city for what could be the last time that they would see peace or fooling around with each other. Officers came and went, holding maps or calling with their phones and radios, as the roads continued to be jam-packed by convoys of HMLVs and military trucks headed for the frontlines.

All while troops riding on top of the tanks and IFVs ad hoc due to the limitations of transport vehicles waved at the onlooking female spectators, some even giving them sarcastic remarks, shouting, "To the front for you again!" and all other scathing protest lines as they gave peace signs with their fingers.

Amelie sighed, looking away at a laughing OAF soldier on top of a speeding Löwe tank with a helmet that had "I love war" inscribed on the side of his helmet that also ironically had a peace symbol with it, alongside multiple bullets and cigarettes seemingly tied to it.

"Damn…these deployments are becoming too obvious," Amelie said to William, who watched it with disinterest. "I wonder what it's like on the other side of the border. I bet those Lieplatzans are already fortifying everything, or rigging explosives to their bridges…and all that."

"Anything to delay us should push come to shove," William said. "It's normal. They expect war, they will prepare for one. Just the same as us. Especially with their general mobilization…they'd be partly prepared to meet the OAF head-on."

Amelie fell silent, watching as tanks and mechs, one after another, all of which represented Orland's military might, pushed forward through the streets of this small border city. She had only really mobilized fewer than a hundred thousand men for this fight, but the Lieplatzans were mobilizing their entire country to meet them.

Granted, most of them would be in East Lieplatz to defend against the Federal Republic, but still…

It would be a difficult fight indeed. Just picturing the entire path of advance of the OAF had been a grueling wakeup call to herself yesterday, when she studied the operational maps produced by the OHC. The road to Nordia was being rapidly fortified, with bunkers, trench lines, camouflaged positions, and towns and small cities toward it being turned into fortresses.

Hell, even the first two towns on two of the roads that were beside the border seemed to be a fortress already, with a ring of trench lines built over the past weeks seemingly appearing in front of both towns, already connected to each other. And that was only what Orlish Satellites could see. She had no idea of what more could be lying in wait to eat her troops.

I'm about to send a hundred thousand men to the jaws of death again. Her promises of reducing war and pain for men had already been long gone. Amelie had practically accepted that war was the future and that men would be inevitably funneled into it, regardless of what she did. They were the ones who knew how to man and run an army. And she needed an army. And so did her foes.

The result was natural—men would remain in the armies of Pollos, fighting the next Great War that was set to consume them all. They truly didn't have an inch of reprieve, and looking at the passing young men before her, Amelie felt shame once more. No rest, no reprieve, no peace.

For these men, they would know nothing but war. Truly, her cruel world gave them one judgment. They'd grow and die on the battlefields, literally. And she was a part of those that made that decision. She hated war because of this—but she had to wage war. It was the only way. Lieplatz's Junta had to be dismantled. Both for their good and to serve her grand strategy. She needed Orland to appear as a superpower. She needed to crush the pretender state in her northern border to do that.

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Almost as if I'm sending these young men for nothing but international prestige. All to restore Orland's wounded reputation.

"Do we have any projections of the sort of casualties we would suffer?" Amelie asked, and William shook his head.

"Do you really want to know that?"

"Of course, a monarch ought to know how much her subjects would pay for her decisions. I need to know how much this will cost Orland. How much it will cost these men…"

"Well, considering the depth of defenses we would have to punch through, it'd be pretty heavy."

"How heavy?"

"I don't need to sugarcoat it?"

Amelie turned back to him, his questioning face clear. This man…this, right-hand man of hers, always seemed to coat every bad news with a thick layer of syrup before serving it to her. It could be a rotting piece of cod, but somehow, she'd be able to eat it because of his interventions.

"No. Again, please don't do that. I want to hear the truth. I know all those OHC officers are filtering out the bad news and complications when they report to me—you don't need to add to that."

"To be fair, I don't think they're being malicious about it. We're just factoring the Queen's mental—"

Amelie laughed. "Don't kid me about that, William. Why? Why would anyone care about my mental health? It's not like anyone in this country, especially men, enjoy a semblance of that."

"Yes, but the Queen is a different story," William's face turned serious. "Some officers are worried that the Queen may snap at everything thrown to her, and boom—suddenly, we have no decent monarch to fight for again."

Amelie blinked. "What?"

"Your value is too great to be squandered, that's the truth." William turned back to the moving convoys before them. "Increasingly, many in the Armed Forces are genuinely looking up to you. They see an angel that rules Orland. Sure, the angel can't do everything to make sure things are right—but she's trying. That's a ray of hope most men haven't tasted for ages. It's like…an oasis for the thirsty in the desert. A desert barren of any oasis to support a tired and thirsty traveler. Something to be valued and protected."

"...I haven't even done much for men yet…no reforms, no changes, none. Just…sweet promises. Nothing more. Nothing truly tangible. You're all still dying in the front. Toiling in every industry. Misery…increasing misery, all under my rule."

"Yet the possibility of change is greater than ever with you in charge. Many units already believe that all those things you promised, or some of them, would become true once the fighting is over. Slowly, your reputation alone is giving countless men in the Armed Forces a reason to fight."

"I don't believe that. It's impossible. And it means nothing. No one should be worried about my mental health. I'll handle it. The war takes precedence."

"No one said it wouldn't. Just that, your well-being matters a lot. General Albrecht himself told me of that."

Amelie narrowed her eyes. "Told you what?"

"To take care of the 'only decent Queen' he'd served," William laughed. "He even threatened to personally execute me should you die under my protection. I know he's bulshitting, but I can see the message. Many in the OHC and even the head of the entire Armed Forces, are becoming protective of you."

Amelie shook her head. That was ridiculous! Why would they care that much that they would go as far as to downplay reports just to "protect her weary heart"?! Men, really, they were some of the strangest beings on this planet, Amelie thought. Was this perhaps their "chivalry" in action again? Historically, men had been extremely protective of women before they had magic, to the point of detriment.

Funnily enough, even through the era of women's rule, men had remained with their strange sense of chivalry. Until this day, evidently, more men would die for women than women who were willing to die for men. So much so that Amelie could bet that the entire conscription system that Orland employed in many of her costly wars was designed to exploit that male mentality.

"Die for her, gain her affection!" That kind of message would almost be devious, now that Amelie thought about it. First, it asked men to die for women. Second, it promised them a tinge of affection, which wasn't going to happen. Third, it genuinely would prey on the male instinct of duty to women. A dangerous tool that could easily be weaponized.

And something that I had probably weaponized countless times myself. Amelie gulped at the thought of that. Considering how OHC officers were starting to become protective of her, it would be worse if some enlisted soldier who listened to her speeches was actually out there fighting to the death for her.

"That sounds stupid."

"Should I relay that remark to the General?"

"Obviously not," Amelie said, frowning at him. William laughed to himself.

"Yeah, right. Your wish is my order, Your Majesty."

Amelie breathed out in exasperation. "Look, you haven't answered me yet. What are our casualty projections for this operation? How much will Orland lose from this…entire thing? William…how many of these men wouldn't come back home in one piece?"

William's demeanor darkened, as he looked at four passing LSS Mechs. The sheer concentration of armored vehicles in the deployment areas would almost certainly strike fear into onlookers. Yet…none of it would be truly enough for what was about to come. This wasn't a simple defensive operation. This was an offensive incursion on a foreign land—a foreign, semi-mountainous, almost barren, frozen land.

"All I can say…worse…worse than what the OHC told you. The Lieplatzans will put up a good fight before they fold. Orlishmen's blood will paint the snow-covered Lieplatzan soil red…that's all there is to it, Amelie. There will be costs for your liberation project."

Amelie looked down. "...Costs young men of Orland would pay for." She laughed to herself, almost darkly. "What a 'kind' Queen I am…"