Despite their smug contempt, I can’t fault the efforts of the townsfolk of Alsace. Not only are they more than capable of digging trenches, building fortifications, and finding good places for the artillery but also of feeding over 20,000 sudden guests undergoing withdrawal symptoms. Remarkably important, since our commissary staff are also undergoing withdrawal symptoms, and have little food to work with besides.

So

the troops can recover from their march in relative comfort. We had made good time and the Coalition army will take at least another day to reach us. The men seem almost ready for battle for the first time since we marched out of Alesia, even without my magic and with Xena's concoction out of their system. Perhaps Malmo's more experienced troops are being a good influence on them. Or maybe they’re finally getting used to this whole soldiery business, they have been thrown into a lot of madness this month.

Or perhaps it's because the village girls have been cooking their meals and washing their uniforms, no one was immune from Wool's labor draft here... Not that I can complain, one of them managed to wash the troll blood right off my boots! It’s as if they were never saturated with the stuff.

I try not to think about how these devoted supplicants of Wool learned how to wash off troll blood so effectively. Either way, they've done us a service, so we must respond in kind and make sure they survive what comes next. Coming up with plans for a suddenly much larger force on my own is honestly a rather mammoth undertaking, and while Xena's insight, the Mayor's familiarity with the town, and Pasche's savvy is helping, it does ultimately fall to me and my two years of officer training.

"The main thing is to avoid being surrounded. If we put the more veteran units in the earthworks in front of the town, they'll be able to trade fire before making an orderly retreat into the town, which will hopefully draw the enemy into the town itself, where we'll have fortified firing positions and cannons with good sight lines. If the left and right flanks hold, the enemy is likely to press on the 'opportunity' in the center and end up right where we want them."

"Didn't you try to trick them last time, Serena? Won't they be wise to it?" Pasche squeezes my hand, clearly uncomfortable with having to disagree with me. "Will they make the same mistake twice?"

"They did win that battle, Pasche. Perhaps that'll give them enough confidence for them to overlook the actions on their left flank... Though we should keep the cavalry in reserve to support the wings in case the enemy focuses their attention there." I run my thumb over the back of Pasche's hand and give her the best smile I can. "That'll have to be your job I'm afraid, hedging my bets."

“I suppose that makes sense… Though if we are going with this plan, I think it’s probably best to put the veteran units on the flanks, the parts we absolutely need to hold. It might be better to give the job of dying to the less valuable troops…”

“… Won’t less experienced troops be less able to execute their orders? What happens if they don’t retreat in time?”

“Serena, I think that they’ll know how to run away perfectly well…” Pasche sounds genuinely depressed having to tell me this. “I think it’s the thing we can most easily rely on the newer units for.”

“… I would prefer as many of us to survive this fight as possible, Pasche.

“That means we actually have to win, Serena.”

Pasche is correct, of course. Winning this is hardly a sure thing even with a plan, and it’s best to seize every advantage we can get. If only I still had those cowardly bodyguards as sharpshooters… I squeeze Pasche’s hand, and move the little token representing the 101st, swapping it for the regiment protecting the right side of town, in the woods.

The Mayor is more than a little displeased by Pasche and my casual little closeness, clearing his throat rather loudly as if that would dissuade us. "Fortifying the woods on the right side of town is a lost cause. There's something in there, goats and pigs sometimes wander in, and they never come out again. Farmers too, the stupid ones at any rate."

Pasche picks up on this man’s disdain for our handholding and develops from it with a disdain for this man entirely. "... I'm fairly certain whatever's in there is no match for the Avernian army, monsieur."

"You need every man you can get, missy! Better to not waste them finding out whatever's in there."

"It's an important strategic position!"

"It's a death trap-"

Xena pinches the bridge of her nose with one hand, moving the token behind the woods… Clearly all this battle planning is giving her a headache. "Why don't we just deploy our troops behind the woods and let the Coalition find out whatever's in there? And if it's no match for them, then we can just take the woods with our troops after. Whatever's got your goats is probably scary enough to freak out even the most cool and collected soldiers."

Xena has a point, and that gives me the most bizarre desire to get some vengeance, reaching out to pat her head. "Good, good thinking-"

And of course, she can’t resist turning that around on me. "Maybe it's even ghosts, we know those scare even Generals."

I recoil my hand, much to Xena's clear amusement. Even if her smile remains calm and composed, her eyes are just that little bit animated. Pasche meanwhile gives Xena the sharpest eyes she can, which only amuses Xena further, provoking an actual smile from her… She’s become more expressive since Katarina joined the army.

Which the Mayor’s limited patience can’t tolerate, even if he does give a nod of approval. "If nothing else it'll be good to know who to sacrifice to so we can get rid of the monsters if they come back. We don't typically get armies running around here solving our problems, just trampling our fields and eating our livestock."

"You've dealt with Coalition raids here before?"

"No."

"Then- ... Ah. I will question the men and attempt to find any culprits I can."

"Don't bother, it's just the lot in life of country folk. Sometimes 'Father Alesia' comes down from on high and we must all show our respect. No matter what they do."

"... Boring." Xena is clearly tempted to flick the mayor-priest of Alsace on the forehead. "If something's bad, you try to stop it. If something's inadequate you try to fix it. If something's good, you try to improve it. 'Lot in life' is boring."

The priest is clearly tempted to slap Xena in the face. "H... How dare you?! What would your father think if he heard his daughter say things like that?!"

"He'd probably think that being eaten by trolls is unpleasant. Because he was eaten by trolls like the rest of my family."

"Clearly before he could teach you any manners-"

"This was less than two weeks ago."

"... Still!" The priest struggles to formulate an argument until one finally manages to reach his brain…

Which is immediately interrupted as Katarina enters our command tent. It takes some awkward contortion as the tent clearly isn't intended to house her seven-foot-tall frame, or the extra half foot the bear's head of her attire added. Before the Mayor-Priest can even begin to get liturgical about the importance of family or whatever, Xena has already been picked up by the large, smiling behemoth of a woman, who carries her out of the room. Xena gives us a wave on the way out, she and Katarina apparently have their own preparations to make.

Pasche, the Mayor, and I all stare dumbfounded at the tent flap for a moment, realizing all at once that the world is at times a silly place, before our gracious host simply sighs. "I bet she's been listening to some Cotton nonsense, damn kids."

"Right..." I decide to leave out the part where I’m even younger than Xena, and indeed Pasche, and certainly the aged Mayor. "Well, I'd best make sure my people have their orders."

"And I'd best make sure my people have theirs. Best of luck, General Pollineux."

He leaves the tent with a casual air that makes me wonder if I’m supposed to know what he means by that. I don't have a lot of time to speculate however, I soon have an armored cuirassier holding me closely. Which, while not unwelcome, is a little sudden and takes me off guard a bit. Even more so when she attempts to lift me off the ground.

"P... Pasche?! What are you-"

Pasche manages to get me off my feet, briefly, before quickly laying me down again sheepishly. "... I wanted to see if I could do it. Katarina made it look easy."

"I'm not entirely convinced that Katarina is human! ... Also I-"

"And it's also your fault for making a plan that separates us. I mean, what if something happens and your knight is not around to save you?!"

"Then you'll be spared a second bullet on my account."

"Yeah, and you'll take it instead! And forgive me for saying so Serena, but you don't have the same track record surviving these things that I do-"

"You survived one time, Pasche!"

"One time so far, I'm willing to increase my winning streak if it keeps you out of harm's way."

"... Don't think I'm going to kiss you every time you get shot for me, I'm still a little mad."

"That's- ... That's absolutely not what I was thinking." The red in her cheeks and her averted eyes make it pretty clear that it isn't not what she’s thinking. "I just... The army needs you. Right now, Avernia needs you, twenty thousand people need you, and all these townsfolk need you. And... And that's all the reason I need really!"

"... I thought you didn't much care for Avernia-"

"So I’d best get to the cavalry now!" Pasche slinks away from me, clearly leaving a lot unsaid, and only getting through a bit of it on her way out of the tent. "... Promise me you'll be okay? Promise me you won't die when what happens happens."

... I am going to break so many promises one day. "I promise. Now you promise me the same- Hey, get back here!"

Pasche slips out of the tent without another word, the absolute nerve! It’s almost enough to make a girl want to die out of spite, I swear... Almost. But even if she’s being disingenuous, she is also infuriatingly correct... My life carries a lot of weight in this army, a great many people will die should I fail, or indeed die. On a large scale, maybe it's for the best that she dies instead of me.

I imagine that's what a grown-up would say... I hate it.

In any case, I spent the next few hours issuing orders, trying to move a frankly stunning amount of men and materiel into position, setting up lines of communication, setting up my command center in the town’s bell tower... And praying. I find through this process; a great many soldiers are praying. A great many civilians are too, hoping their 'brothers in the army' will be safe...

I wonder if Anastasia Delphine and her troops are praying. After all, her planning so far has been utterly perfect, except for the part where we escaped with an army and not a smattering of deserters. Is she scared? This town looks idyllic, beautiful, and pastoral, a rather beautiful normal. It must be scary to look at it knowing that it’s really a twisted mess of firing positions and prepared artillery… For how long will it look so normal?

"General! Banners on the horizon!"

An adjutant brings me back to reality with a shout and a helpful telescope, which allows me to confirm that yes, those are banners of the Coalition approaching. Teutons, with over a dozen others from more minor Principalities within the Confederation. Seems like the rest of Germany has come to try their luck. But oddly enough, there are no Icenian banners among them... Perhaps Anastasia has some other grand scheme in mind?

Well, whatever she has up her sleeve, she won't be inflicting it on the people of this town. "Adjutant, make sure the men know to be ready for combat. There are an awful lot of them coming this way and I think we might be at this for a while."

"Yes, General!"

The bell tower in the center of town sits beside the Grove of Wool which dominates the town square, and gives a perfect view of the entire town. I can observe the whole field from here, give orders with flags, maybe even cast my magic from here. I can't let myself be killed now; I've made too many promises. So I’ll be tied to my little command post for the duration of the battle… If all else fails it’s not a bad place for a heroic last stand.

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The Coalition troops press on the flanks and the center, and I notice that on every front their soldiers occasionally just fall into the ground. The townsfolk must have been digging stake pits and preparing traps as well as defenses... Helpful, but it feels almost profane, like I've forced the bloodletting onto the innocent. Either way, it slows the enemy down, giving plenty of opportunities for the troops to shoot them. We have to make our stand in the center look convincing after all, and make our stand on the flanks be convincing... On the left anyway, on the right the brave soldiers of the Coalition march unopposed into the forest...

And did not reappear, disappearing entirely into the trees. Soon, the enemy forces are focusing an entire battery of cannons on it, as if they can simply blow up the woods entirely and avoid whatever is so terrifying within. Maybe one of the Coalition’s soldiers will be kind enough to tell us what they found in those woods after we beat them.

The regiment in the center is wavering, as intended but it still doesn't sit right with me to sacrifice the troops in deliberately untenable positions. It might be time for their retreat... I raise the flag to order the retreat, a signal they eagerly accept, fleeing into the town proper in a panic. Into the narrow streets of the town, where the enemy follows... Into volleys of musket fire, into pre-sighted cannons with canister shot, and... Surprisingly into flowerpots and kitchen utensils thrown from the windows of nearby houses, hitting officers and troops alike. It’s utter chaos, but it’s chaos the enemy simply keeps sending men into, and no matter how good our positions are they simply can’t be perfect.

My troops are pushed back to the second defensive line, further in town, ready to repeat the whole process over again as the Teutons try to regroup. And begin clearing houses, apparently having taken exception to having pots, pans and washing basins being thrown upon their heads... Each of those thrown items were thrown by a person, someone else left to die for the sake of the defense, and now those people are at the mercy of the enemy. Given the powder smoke slipping wistfully from their homes, escaping through their windows, mercy is clearly not something the Coalition has to spare.

I clench my teeth, the enemy is moving on the right flank again, apparently now relatively confident that they've slain whatever resides within those woods. Given the subsequent musket smoke, and how few of them make it out of the other side of the treeline, it appears they’d simply managed to make whatever is in there very, very mad. Whatever monster had resided there is now dead though, so our right flank can advance and take the forest from the shellshocked men emerging from it... They don't even put up a fight, upon seeing an Avernian charge they surrender outright... Scary things wander this world, things beyond the ability of military discipline to handle.

The left flank is wavering now, the Coalition's tide is seeking the path of least resistance and has found it there. I throw my magic out and catch them in it, and while it quickly stings to do so from so far away, we simply have to hold there to the last man, to the last heartbeat...

The last man comes sooner than I’m comfortable with, and now the enemy has us on two fronts, ready to press into town. At least, until our cavalry swings in to punish them for their clever plans. It wasn't enough, it’s not nearly enough to sweep the Teutons away, but it'll buy time. Buy time to... To bring up guns, to bring up reserves, to…

"There are simply too many of them... We don't have enough flesh to spend..."

Some of the houses on the outskirts of town have been set on fire, whether it’s the Coalition's attempt at revenge or some last-minute scheme by the townsfolk to turn their very homes into a weapon against our attackers, I do not know. It all seems so ridiculous now, as the smoke covers Alsace and consumes it entirely, obscuring my view of the horrors below. The Gods are certainly laughing, knowing I tried to protect this place… The heat of the fire carries on the Summer breeze, forming a new weather pattern for a world carved out of the normal one by overwhelming violence. With hopeless eyes I catch a glimpse of the motion in the smoke, steel glinting in the firelight, and in a nauseating moment I finally see the truth.

What moves in the shadows are not human beings, no human beings can survive what the town has become. These are not soldiers, they are the arms of a giant beast, tipped in steel and always hungry, stalking the town looking for fresh meat. A godless monster of humankind’s own making, a single organism that cannot be stopped by even thousands of deaths. Its limbs merely roll over the bodies left in its wake and continue moving, surging forth, consuming everything, transforming the very ground they walk upon into this same hell.This beast, this monster… My army was meant to be this too. I finally understand what the Marshal meant, the true extent of his parting wisdom. This kind of monster needs a head, and that head was supposed to be me, pushing my nightmarish limbs to consume all before me. My soldiers were supposed to be naught but claws and teeth for me to eat my fill. I descend from the bell tower, never happier to break a promise. I will be torn apart by the nightmare creature, just like my soldiers, and I will never need to know this secret again.

Descending into the smoke I soon find myself among the troops, and for a moment they simply stare at me, not knowing what to think. This whole thing is entirely my fault, it has to be, I simply could not make these men into the monster they needed to be. They will die human because of my mistakes, my failings… Because I have known warmth, just as the Marshal had feared. Perhaps it’s Pasche, Xena and Katarina who have killed us all as much as anything else…

Could I have ever become this behemoth, loving Her Divine Majesty as I do? Could I have been her monster?

Some of the soldiers are shaking and crying, others have simply gone entirely silent, but not a single one of them is praying now… Maybe my warmth has killed them all, but perhaps it might offer them some solace before the end. "Soldiers... You have fought well. And bravely, and proudly, and with great skill. If this were a fair world, we would have won this fight five times over by now."

Usually my words don't seem to raise the troops' heart rates above resting, but today they are paying attention, truly paying attention. It’s an odd feeling, almost as if I’ve been granted the chance to be an actual general for a moment, at the very end.

"But the world is not always a fair place, and Steel is not always a fair God. Even as we fight like lions, the world sees fit to not reward our skill and our bravery. But not even defeat could take away the honor I have felt having folks such as you at my command, to be able to lead you in one last engagement. No capricious God can take away our pride!"

This whole ‘giving speeches’ thing feels off, baring my heart to these people I barely know almost seems self-indulgent in a way... And yet, Isn't that what my power is? Baring my heart to inspire others? If nothing else, the troops seem to be getting at least a little hyped up, having their achievements acknowledged.

"And nothing can take away just how cowardly our enemy is, tearing through civilian homes, invading a nation that meant them no harm, using brute force to deny our rightful, righteous victory! I think we should give them a lesson in bravery, in pride! In what it means to be an Avernian Lion!"

The bell tower behind me is struck with solid shot and collapses onto the Grove of Wool in the square, kicking up dust and crushing the sacred trees beneath it. Add blasphemy and desecration to the crimes the Coalition have committed here, even if it’s a little hypocritical for me to condemn them for it.

"To the firing positions, then. Let this beast regret believing that we would be easy prey! We shall give a punishment for every inch of ground they take, a bullet for every house they burn!"

The men rush to their stations with an elan I've not seen from them before, not even under the influence of my magic. A more conscious kind of bravery, not courage-drunk but courage-filled all the same. Perhaps imminent death is simply a sobering thing. Either way the distinction makes all the difference when it comes to pouring shot upon the advancing enemy. Teutons and Germans collapse with every volley, clutching wounds and bleeding their last in a foreign land.

But no amount of tragedy we can inflict deters this monster, and though every inch it takes is punished, this beast is a glutton for punishment. Soon it is at our fortifications, its sappers hacking them apart with axes and its grenadiers throwing explosives over them. The firing positions have to be abandoned, and the men can do little more than form a final line in the center of town, loading the last of their ammunition and fixing their bayonets. The last fortifications collapse, and the limbs of the monster surge as a tide of steel and flesh, an unstoppable force emerging from the smoke, baring its blood-stained fangs. One last volley, and then we charge. I charge among my men, there’s nothing left for me to do but break my promises. I hope that Pasche is alive somewhere to be disappointed in me, that Lazierte lives to be disappointed in me, that Xena and Katarina will be fine, and forget about the stupid girl who made them play at war for just a moment.

I hope that perhaps Her Majesty will learn of my actions, and shed a tear for the stupid girl who could not be her monster.

Bullets tear into the men around me, I almost trip on a bleeding Avernian as he falls at my feet. Even over the report of the gunfire and the crackling of the spreading fire, I hear the man softly weeping where he fell upon the cobblestone street, clutching his wound. The second row of Coalition muskets take aim as we close the distance through the powder smoke of the last volley. It’s blistering hot, and every step through the smoke is another step closer to suffocation... The Coalition’s second-row fires; and while I cannot see the soldiers who had followed me, I know full well I am surrounded by their bodies. By the time I reach the bayonets of the Coalition, I feel completely alone. As far as I can see, I am the only one left.

The faces I see can’t disguise the presence of the beast, and I fire my pistol at the first ‘man’ who tries to skewer me. His eyes go wide as he drops his musket, clutching his wound pathetically… I have not killed a beast, but I have certainly killed a man. Another ‘man’ stabs at me, his bayonet barely parried with my sword before I slash him across the chest, causing him to scream in pain. It… It is just like a sacrifice to Steel, to Her Majesty. And while I have fought a beast, I have killed a man…

The third attacker swings at me with their musket, a blow I duck under before running him through, feeling his blood upon my fingers as he goes limp atop me, the two of us falling upon the street together. He tries desperately, clumsily, to slide himself free of my blade, but only makes it halfway before he slips and falls upon me again, bleeding all the while… As unworthy a god as he is, I make a final prayer to Steel to simply finish his meal and be done with it, to let this poor man finally die… To let this hopeless girl finally die, alone in the smoke and cinders.

"Alright lads, time to show the army how its done!"

The Mayor? What the hell is he doing here? Before I can even begin to imagine what brought his voice here the powder smoke clears, and through the ranks of the Coalition beast I see it. Thousands, tens of thousands of men in civilian clothes with sickles, scythes, pitchforks, axes, and ancient-looking blunderbusses charging into the back of the beast, hitting them in the rear and drawing their focus. The mayor, the madman, he's dragged more folks into this hell. He’s become the head of his very own monster! …

And it might just save my life… While the last stand of a few hundred Avernian soldiers was never going to be enough to stop the beast of the Coalition, it seems that suddenly being hacked apart by thousands of civilians is the final straw for them. Suddenly we are not facing an unstoppable, inexorable marching behemoth, but are instead seeing thousands of human beings, scared and desperate, finally cognizant of the death they are surrounded by. They are aware and eager to escape. They might even have had a chance, a hope dashed as Pasche appears in front of them, cavalry in tow, followed by whatever disparate and scattered troops she could find. Which happens to include Katarina and friends, who seem all too eager to get stuck in with their bayonets…

The Coalition’s troops are thrown into a blind panic, lashing out in all directions, eventually managing to carve a path through the civilians through which they can escape, scrambling over the bodies of their comrades and civilian victims alike to do so. The town square is utterly littered with the dead, and while Katarina's band and the cavalry try to pursue further, it is simply too hard to do so with the town in the state it is in... This burning, bleeding town, whose inhabitants... Are cheering. Those amongst them who did not die are cheering in victory!

... The soldiers are cheering in victory too. Pasche and the cavalry, what little remains of the 101st and all the rest of them, cheering in victory.

Cheering this butcher's yard, this field of corpses. Cheering over the bodies of the civilians who died compensating for my mistakes, my failures. Mistakes that I now have to live with, thanks to their sacrifice... My heart feels sick. I can’t take any more celebration.

I hear hoofbeats approach, and soon feel the heavy corpse pinning me to the floor being pulled off of me and thrown aside. I see Pasche… She is looking down at me, smiling madly, quickly falling to the ground herself to embrace me.

“We… We won! We actually won! Serena, we did it! They’re fleeing on every axis, they’re utterly broken! And… And you’re okay!” She squeezes me tightly, tight enough for me to feel the new dents on her cuirass, evidence of blows she has taken in my service. “They’ll be talking about this victory forever! … And I’m just so glad I got here in time.”

I can’t move my arms to embrace her. I can’t do much of anything, the whole world seems just so very, very heavy. Pasche is cradling a corpse and she is smiling. I have left this town a corpse, and the soldiers and civilians alike are cheering.

"General Pollineux!" The cries grow louder and louder somehow, as everyone shouts my praises in unison. "General Serena!"

Please. Please don't say my name. Not here. Not now.