Saint Of Letzenbourg: Part 5
Operation: Shrouded Web
40 Years after the Great War
Londinium
Defeat at Tiegenhoff effectively put an end to the Federation invasion of the Empire and the land seized in the initial assault marked the apex of their gains until the very end of the war. However, with the element of surprise no longer on their side, their forces pushed to the brink by the losses sustained in Tiegenhoff, the defeat in the North and their inability to push through the mountains in Dacia; they were not to hold onto these gains for long.
The Imperial counterattack was swift as it was brutal and within a month the Federation found itself back at its ownborders and defending itsterritory from the Hun. This was, in large part due to the disparity in magical troops, the Federation having eschewed their use in favour of technological alternatives.
Scholars argue exactly how important this advantage was for the Imperials, with some claiming it was only the loss of so many fighters in Tiegenhoff that led to such a weakness in their forces. However, what is certain is that without a solid counter, both the skies and the battlefields below were quickly dominated by Imperial aerial mages.
Thus it fell on the Allied Kingdom, its Commonwealth and its volunteers to help defend their beleaguered ally. Prime Minister Churbull offered full support, shipments ofweapons and tanks, both domestic and purchased from the Unified States, were sent within days and additional mages were pledged to help the forces of General Secretary Dzhugashvili repel the now-invading Imperials.
For a time the Forces of Albion were the only mages defending the Russy skies, a time not remembered fondly by Albion or Russy alike. For it was during this period that the shift in the Saint of Letzenbourg's character seemed to shift the most as he and his forces began a campaign to harass the volunteer mages sent to support the Federation.
Of the whereabouts of the Devil of the Rhine, we know nothing. However, some have speculated that the high casualty rate of the allies during this time is evidence that the Devil took on the Saint's moniker during these months. Although as to why they might do this, no one can say. – Andrew WTN Special Correspondent.
July 6th Unified Year 1925 10:45
8km from Brasta-Litovsk, Russy/Imperial disputed zone, Russy Federation
Will stifled a yawn as he stared up at the sky from his hiding place amongst the rubble of a ruined farmhouse; paradoxically doing his utmost to remain silent while the sound of his recorded voice echoed through both the air and airwaves. He had always thought that waiting was the worst part of any ambush, at least when he was on the attacking side, it felt like he was wasting too much time, and that was a resource he could rarely afford to squander.
Still, now that the trap is baited, waiting around is all I can do. He sighed inwardly, reaching into his pack for some chocolate, hoping that the sugar might help him wake up a little. It was the good stuff, liberated from Tanya's secret stash before he left the capital. He could have paid for his own instead of pilfering hers of course, but knowing that the girl would doubtless be furious once she found his IOU brought a smile to his face and gave him almost as much energy as the sugar and cocoa.
Shame I couldn't have been there to see her expression though, He thought allowing himself a smile as he imagined an enraged Tanya cursing his name as she paced her new office in Berlun. And that she'll never know exactly what I did for her.
It had been a month and a half since the hearing, but Will was still fairly pleased with how everything had panned out. He had learned from his previous mistakes in Letzenbourg and on the Rhine and had decided that trying to manipulate Tanya directly was a fool's errand. She was far too intelligent and second-guessed everything he said or did, tricking her was almost impossible. Even if he and Sophia had arranged something sneaky to get her transferred to the rear, he was certain her suspicion would lead her to believe it was a poisoned chalice. Besides, getting her to agree to him leaving her side was always going to be difficult without support from the higher-ups.
As such, he decided the best way to get her away from the front, and him back to it, was to get her to ask for it herself. Will knew all too well by now how to upset her, he'd been on the receiving end of her bad moods more often than he'd been on her good side after all. So he had a fairly good idea of how she would react if she felt she was being unjustly blamed by her superiors. Since the foreign office was already looking for a scapegoat, all he and Sophia had needed to do was set things in motion; as well as arrange for a transfer for himself once the dust settled, of course. It was a little like setting up dominoes to watch them fall.
From there, things had more or less handled themselves. Although he was certain that she would deny it, Tanya was just as good at manipulation as he was when she wanted to be, at least when it came to the professional realm of the military. He'd known that if she were upset enough, she would do something she would consider desperate: asking to be reassigned to the rear, using the General Staff's past actions as justification. The investigation from the High Command was more than enough to achieve this, especially since she took any complaint about her performance to heart. The whole affair had made for an entertaining show.
It always amused him how she considered asking directly for a transfer to be a last-ditch move. It wasn't as though she wasn't qualified and she'd done more than her share of frontline duty. If handled correctly it could have happened long before now, even if it meant some sideways promotions to the regional army groups. He would have been happy to help her along as well.
However, she seemed to think such things would reflect badly on her career and feared she would somehow be given a job worse than the ones she usually ended up with. Perhaps even destroy her career entirely! It might have been funny if she didn't so earnestly believe it.
As though I'd ever let them do anything to ruin you. He chuckled to himself. If not for her rabid distrust of him, he would have had her moved somewhere safer long before now. Especially since he no longer needed piggyback on her battalion to stay at the front. She does so like to make things difficult for herself.
He wondered if his actions might have counted as breaking his promise to her, he had technically gone over her head after all. Besides encouraging the foreign office to bring her up on jumped-up charges would likely be interpreted as a hostile move even with the proper context. Then again, she had never been in any real danger.
Even if they'd had a stronger case, the foreign office couldn't have succeeded. The General Staff would not have allowed the punishment of one of their officers on political grounds and the Chancellor and Supreme High Command could not risk angering the military. They'd already given them too much power and any backlash would be disastrous for the country and the war effort.
That too might have been amusing if it hadn't been another warning he'd left in his paper before the war. Each part of the Imperial government lived in its own little world, quietly working towards its raison d'etre while ignoring the others. In peacetime, this had caused problems but it was workable. As the war dragged on, they were starting to work against their own goals. If not for the powers bestowed upon the military at the war's outbreak, the whole system would have collapsed in on itself by now. It wasn't as if his uncle or cousin were capable of stepping up and taking the reins after all. They were lucky the General staff remained so vehemently loyal, realistically, they could take over any time they liked.
Not that I'll need to worry about that for too much longer. He mused, breaking off a cube of chocolate and slipping it into his mouth as he allowed his mind to wander. As long as I can pay off the debt, I can either work to reverse the damage or escape somewhere safer before things go sideways. I'll also need to make sure the others get out safe too so they don't end up like…
He did his best to shake the thought away, feeling a familiar stab of guilt return to the pit of his stomach. He frowned as he rewrapped the chocolate and carefully stowed it away in one of the pouches on his flight suit. The chocolate somehow seemed bitter all of a sudden and the ache in his chest meant he wasn't in danger of falling asleep any longer.
I should stay focused on the mission. We should get a bite soon.
His plan to mimic the François mage killers was going well so far, despite the scarcity of targets on the Eastern front. Since the Federation fielded almost no mages, Imperial forces had been able to use its own mage units to strike at strategic positions as well as ground-based artillery and their spotters with ruthless abandon. Meanwhile, the Russy fighters that were supposed to protect them were being routinely intercepted by the Imperial air fleet, leaving the mages almost completely unchallenged.
As such the Federation had been forced to rely on the Commonwealth's ever-growing volunteer army to defend them from magical threats, deploying them in important sectors to prevent them from being overwhelmed by Imperial mage power. Although they were being overworked, and spread fairly thinly across the massive front, it had meant that Will could predict where they might be deployed with reasonable success and he routinely deployed with his own company to intercept them. Breaking up their formations and picking off the stragglers had been child's play after that.
The Commonwealth commander had figured out he was hunting them very quickly of course. It only took a day or so before he felt detection waves tuned into his specific mana signature wash over him while he was out on patrol. The international volunteers learned caution exceptionally quickly and if they got so much as a hint of him or his company's presence they either formed up tightly or kept their distance after that.
Fortunately, he had planned for this too and had persuaded the commanders of the Eastern forces to use Project Shroud to cast fake signatures of himself and his company all across the front. Additionally, he had prepared some recordings of himself to be broadcast to give more credibility to the ruse. Now the Commonwealth commander had no idea where he was hiding, while Will could still make educated guesses about where they would be sent. All he had to do was lie in wait and strike at his forces as they revealed themselves.
It wasn't an exact science but he was managing to whittle away at them with ambushes and hit-and-run attacks. So far it had been fairly successful and, although part of him felt bad about the underhanded nature of his attacks, not to mention the otherwise dishonourable way of targeting soldiers directly rather than obtaining tactical and strategic objectives, every death had contributed to the tally on the sword. Unlike the communists, the monstrous God valued these poor souls.
He let out a sigh as he resisted the urge to draw his sword and look at the number once again, knowing the number couldn't have possibly changed since last he checked it. He knew he was making progress, frustratingly slow progress but he was creeping closer to his goal.
I just wish the damned Tommies and their volunteers would give me a few more chances. They're far too cautious for my liking. He grumbled internally, part of him hating himself for his impatience. To think the evil deity had him anxious to murder the unsuspecting and unprepared for its sake; that thing really was a monster. Especially that one. Where is she? I only have a few more weeks before I have to return to the capital to make sure Tanya doesn't get sent back to the front.
He'd made it a personal goal to hunt down the mage that had injured Tanya so badly in Tiegenhoff. It had shaken him to his core to see her in such a way and he had vowed not to let it happen again. He may have succeeded in ridding the world of his otherworldly doppelganger, but it had been the entente mage from Moscau that had almost taken Tanya from him. Although she had been defeated and injured by Tanya during their duel, Will had no doubt that the monstrous God had spared her life. While she lived, Tanya would always be in danger.
Perhaps she's yet to recover. He mused, shifting slightly as his leg began to fall asleep in his flight boot. Probably for the best, it would be better if Sophia were away when I face her. At the very least I'll have to keep her with the reinforcement platoon.
Despite the mage's terrifying strength, he did not believe he would have too much difficulty taking her down. He knew he would likely lose in a prolonged fight, especially if he took her head-on. In terms of raw power, she easily outclassed him. However, he had no intention of allowing her or her commander to seize the initiative. Surprise counted for an awful lot when it came to defeating a stronger opponent and while his ambush tactics persisted, he would have that advantage in every engagement.
Besides, I beat Tanya, didn't I? He grinned to himself, remembering the little trick he'd played on her during their journey to the south, frowning a little as he also remembered the black eye that he had received as a result. Not that I plan on kissing this one of course.
An urgent, rhythmic clicking in his ear broke him from his thoughts as he recognised the signal embedded in a communication spell. As an additional precaution, he'd had the company adopt radio silence until they engaged with the only exception being this prearranged nonverbal warning when a suitable target was approaching. Sergeant Litz was on observation duty today, he must have spotted some prey.
Will readied his gear, getting to his feet and preparing himself for a hasty activation of his gear but decided to risk a sliver of mana to summon up a detection spell and display. It was risky, even a small increase in his mana signature might reveal his presence, but he needed to know who he was dealing with.
Six signals… An expanded platoon…Damn, that beast isn't with them today either. He grumbled internally as he let the glowing lattice fall away and got to his feet, drawing his sword and reading himself. No matter. He thought, staring up at the clouds, searching for the distant targets as he listed for Litz's next signal. He would attack as though she really were here. There would be no escape.
"Click…click…click…k"
High speed, six thousand feet, entering engagement zone. He mentally translated as the sounds filled his ears. He moved his hand to his orb as he sent power to his gear and felt the sudden but familiar lurch as the reactivation of the flight boots left him hovering just above the ground. He did not allow it to distract him however and his body tensed instinctively as the distant figures began to come into view.
"Click…click…"
He took a deep breath, composing himself and summoning his own communication spell as the final signal came. It was too late for the enemy to escape now, it was over.
"Now!"
July 6th Unified Year 1925 11:30
Pishchevik house, 15km outside central Moscau, Russy Federation
Colonel Anatoly Mikel shifted awkwardly as he adjusted his uniform, tightening his belt a notch as he waited uncomfortably under the gaze of the pair of NKDV officers. It had been a long time since he'd been permitted to wear the livery of his homeland and, although he had spent much of his youth wearing some variation of it, it now seemed almost alien to him. Not to mention several sizes too large.
I've lost a lot of weight during those years in the Lageri. He thought with a shiver, trying his best to push aside the memories of freezing Silberian weather and hard labour. My old self would barely recognise me as I am now. I can only hope the kids still can… and that I can do the same with them.
He risked a quick glance at his surroundings, careful not to let his gaze linger on the guards as he swept the room. He was sat in the corridor of an old dacha that had likely once belonged to a deposed noble. The walls had been stripped of anything of value and the windows were darkened by dirt. He suspected this building had been abandoned until relatively recently.
A scowl from one of the guards forced his gaze back towards the marbled floor, conditioning from years of abuse making him act without thought as he automatically fell into his accustomed subservience. Unbidden, the memories of the camps flooded back into his mind.
Despite being among those who had sided with the new regime during the revolution, he and almost every other magically gifted soldier had been imprisoned in the years following the fall of the Tsar. Memories of how the old despot had used mages to repress the populace left them mistrusted by everyone and fear that they may lead a counter-revolution had placed them at the top of the list when Dzhugashvili had begun his purge of the military.
Stripped of his gear and orb, he'd been sent to the lageri, a series of labour camps meant to "make use" of the state's enemies. Their families too had been taken, ensuring they could not rebel for fear of reprisal against them and the chance that they might have a chance to see them again was dangled in front of them as a reward for good behaviour. That never came however, he had not been allowed to see them for nearly three years.
Many more had been tortured and executed. The Commissariat of Internal Affairs had no qualms about making an example out of anyone they saw fit for it. Anyone considered a troublemaker had been dealt with soon after their arrival. Within days, everyone knew that even daring to complain about the cold or lack of food was enough to have you removed from the barracks forever.
Within months the will to resist was extinguished completely. Nowadays he could not even summon up anger towards his captors, he had been resigned to his fate, fully expecting to die in the camps. What he hadn't expected was a summons recalling him to duty in the Red Army. He certainly hadn't expected it to come from that bastard Krugov; and not at the recommendation of her.
He glanced sideways at the officer next to him as she sat with arms crossed and wearing a deep frown. Major General Ilya Zenaida Sokalova was a bit of an oddity within the Federation army. Unlike most mages, she had avoided the purge by selling out her comrades and it was rumoured that by doing so she had gained the fickle favour of the General Secretary. At thirty-one, she was young for someone of such rank and the only woman to ever reach such heights but Mikel knew from experience that it had not been skill that had earned her the position. She had always been adept at clinging to other people's coattails and stealing credit. Her piercing brown eyes and pretty smile had likely helped as well; he'd heard the General Secretary had an eye for the ladies.
You've come a long way since you served as my lieutenant. He thought, marshalling his features to keep the cold spite from his expression. She was one of the few people still capable of drawing out such an emotion in him, however, he knew better than to show it on his face. Was it worth selling us all up the river? Damned bitch!
"Stop fidgeting." She whispered without turning to look at him, absently fiddling with the computation orb at her throat. "It isn't just your neck on the line here! You should be thankful I put you forward for this, it's the only chance you have of getting out of that…"
She paused, twitching uneasily under the watchful gaze of the NKDV guards as she hastily recomposed her words. "….out of that place!" She finished lamely.
Mikel said nothing but allowed himself a sliver of satisfaction in the knowledge that if anything went wrong, she too would find herself in hot water. However, he also had to admit she was right. This was the first time in years he'd been allowed out of the lageri. Although he didn't know why he was here yet; that he'd been bathed, deloused and his uniform had been returned to him was quite an improvement compared to hauling timber or iron ore in sub-zero temperatures. It looked like he was getting a second chance, if he were lucky he might be allowed to see his wife and children again. It would be foolish to squander the opportunity, even if he would miss the chance to gain some measure of revenge on that bitch Sokalova.
No, it could never be so simple. He thought as a resigned gloom fell on him once more. Dzhugashvili would never release him out of the goodness of his heart. There'll be a price for this, I only hope it isn't worse than the camps.
The pair returned to their uncomfortable silence as they waited, Mikel doing his best to ignore the itchiness of the freshly laundered material on his skin. His traitorous former subordinate was not willing to follow her own advice, however, and tapped her foot restlessly as they waited. The rhythmic noise of her boot the only sound permeating the room as she sat staring at the door opposite.
A soft knock interrupted the quiet and one of the guards opened the door slightly to take a message from the occupants in the room beyond. Then a moment later, he stepped forward and bid them both to enter, watching them carefully as they rose from their seats.
She's worried, Mikel observed as he watched Sokalova's hand absently move up her orb once again. Despite holding a device that would allow her to easily overwhelm both the guards and the occupants of the room, she was still struggling to keep her composure. Then again, so am I. We are meeting with the man responsible for imprisoning or killing almost every mage in the country. I can't say I'm looking forward to it.
The last time Mikel had been given the dubious honour of meeting Captain Krugov, it had been in a dark room with nothing more than a chair and a lamp to act as decoration. However, this time they were ushered into a brightly lit state room with a large heavy ornate desk that must have once belonged to the house's former occupant. Like the rest of the building, it didn't look as though it had been inhabited until relatively recently, however, it seemed to have remained curiously untouched by whomever had looted the corridor outside. Here, sheets still covered much of the furniture and a thick layer of dust sat atop them. While boxes of files were strewn around the room waiting to be organised. If the rumours he'd heard were to be believed, the Offices of the Commissariat of Internal Affairs had been severely damaged during the attack on the capital. They must have been forced to relocate here.
What surprised him the most, however, was that there was no sign of the huge intimidating mage killer he had been expecting to be sitting at the desk. Instead, there was a small, fat, balding, bespectacled man carefully combing through a stack of paper and photographs.
"Comrade Loria!" Sokalova breathed in surprise, tensing even further as she too noticed the man at the desk. "I wasn't aware they you were handling this matter personally."
Loria?! Mikel felt a stab of dread in his gut. He had never met the head of the Dzhugashvili's enforcers, he had never been considered important enough to be anything more than one of countless names on a list. However, everyone knew the man by his reputation. Krugaov was a cruel bastard, especially towards mages, but Loria… he was a monster.
"General Sokalova, Colonel Mikel. Please take a seat." He gestured with a slimy smile as he placed the papers back on the desk in front of him.
Mikel suddenly became aware of a looming presence behind him as the door swung shut and a glance over his shoulder revealed that Krugov had been behind them the entire time, hand resting on his pistol in case of trouble. He had no doubt that the man would use it either. He could still recall the day the man had disarmed him and his men after arresting them, Krugov had dared them with his eyes to disobey. He had wanted the excuse to murder every mage in the vicinity.
Sokalova, tugged at his sleeve urgently, ushering him to take his seat opposite the little bald man as the giant form of Krugov behind him made his way to his side.
"Tea? Cake?" He asked conversationally, pouring each of them a cup without waiting for a reply. "Try it with some jam, it was a present from the General Secretary. He grew them himself in his garden."
Mikel stared at the victuals with a mix of suspicion and yearning. It had been so long since he'd eaten anything other than bread or gruel, just the smell of the tea and jam was enough to get his mouth salivating. However, this was Loria he was dealing with, could he really assume he would offer him refreshments out of simple courtesy? At best this was an obvious attempt to try and soften his attitude towards the enforcers after years of imprisonment. At worst, it was likely drugged. He doubted they'd put anything in it would kill him, however; if they wanted to do that they would have done so already, but he wouldn't put it past them to spike it with something that would leave him weaker and more lethargic.
He spared a brief glance at the mage killer behind him, the gorilla of a man was still glaring at him with undisguised suspicion and disgust. Meanwhile, Loria continued to smile at him, pretending not to notice his reticence.
I should do as he asks. He thought reaching for the jam and taking a honey cake. They won't relax unless I appear cooperative and even if it is drugged there's little I can do about it with Krugov breathing down my neck.
He nodded gratefully, spooning some jam into his tea before taking a sip, trying not to show too much apprehension as the pair of enforcers watched him with differing types of interest; Krugov with suspicion and Loria with the strange and unpleasant smile. His tongue seemed to tingle as the sweet flavour found its way to his long-dormant taste receptors. Whether drugged or not, he was thankful to be able to enjoy such a simple pleasure once again.
"Good, isn't it?" Loria smirked as he sipped on his own tea, pausing only to take a bite of honey cake. "The General Secretary is a keen gardener and enjoys sharing the fruits of his labour with his comrades. I understand your family grew their own fruits and vegetables before you joined the mage corps. Perhaps you have a shared interest?"
Mikel remained silent. He'd encountered two types of political officers during his career and tenure in the Lageri: the brutes and the talkers. The former, like Krugov, were easy enough to deal with; if they wanted an answer they would beat it out of you. The talkers, however, would pounce on every word, tease extra details that they would use against you later. If you offered them even the smallest shred of information it could put everything at risk.
Fortunately, Loria did not seem to care or notice his failure to answer.
"He's often complained about weeds though, and I have endeavoured to help him clear them whenever I can." He continued, tidying some of his paperwork before he fixed them both with a smile once more. "More recently though, he's begun to appreciate some of the wildflowers that he would otherwise have me remove. Yes, they are technically weeds but I have convinced him that as long as they are well tended, they will no longer be a threat to his garden."
"Yes, Comrade Commissar."Sokalova replied, straightening in her seat as Mikel stifled a groan. This was the other problem with political officers who liked to talk, they wrapped their messages in metaphor and dared you to misunderstand them. Punishing any who did. Fortunately, he understood what the man was trying to say.
"You are reforming the Mage Corps Comrade Commissar?" He replied, ignoring the glare from the traitor General at his side. She likely thought it a stupid question; him being deliberately obtuse at best. However, the growing smirk on Loria's face told him that he had already figured out what words Mikel had left unsaid.
"But we need no mages, no superstition! Only science." Those had been the words used as an excuse for their disbanding. What had changed?
"Indeed! Just as the occasional wildflower can add to the beauty of a garden, so too can every worker strive for the good of the Motherland. That is what the General Secretary believes." He returned gesturing expansively. Mikel couldn't help but notice a low growl from the giant at his back. "Just because our fighters and anti-air guns are a counter to Imperial magecraft, does not mean we should discard our knowledge of the subject completely."
So you've been caught with your pants down by how strong the enemy mages are and how ineffective your countermeasures are. Now those of us you locked in labour camps are your only defence. He translated inwardly but knew better than to speak aloud. Instead, he simply nodded and pretended he believed the face of the man's words.
"General Sokalova here will be in overall command. She, along with Captain Krugov, will ensure the new generation of mages will be properly trained and loyal to the party and the Motherland." He continued gesturing towards the woman at his side. He wasn't sure if she looked honoured or terrified by the thought.
They're serious about this. He thought, feeling nothing but dread as he studied the bespectacled man in front of him but Loria still showed nothing of his intentions other than the slimy smile. They're rebuilding the mages from the ground up so that they're loyal to Dzhugashvili. But what does he want from me?
"I am glad to hear that Comrade Commissar. I have always heard they are both loyal to the General Secretary." He replied, keeping his voice as neutral as possible and taking great care with his words. He was expected to lie, no one here would believe that years of imprisonment would garner anything other than discontent, but they also knew that he did not dare speak openly against them. That is why he had chosen to speak the truth instead, although he was smart enough to omit his true feelings about it. A small and petty victory he knew, but it was one of the few he knew he was still capable of.
"However, as I'm sure you realise, it will take many months before these new mages are ready. Which puts us in a rather awkward situation comrade." Loria continued, pretending not to notice his subtle defiance, instead pausing to clean his glasses on his jacket. "As you may have heard, our new friends from the Allied Kingdom have sent volunteer mages from both themselves and other nations to aid in the defence of the Motherland. Alas, even with our advanced fighters and anti-aircraft canons they are taking heavy losses and we fear such a small and weak country may struggle to shoulder such a burden alone."
Mikel suppressed another groan as he mentally translated the secret policeman's words from party politics into plain Russy. You thought they could do without us mages when you attacked but have been quickly proven wrong. Now you're panicked and having to rely on Albion for mage support but you're worried that if they suffer too many casualties, they might withdraw their troops to defend their own island. I'd hazard a guess I'm not the only mage being released.
"That is why we are asking you and some of your former comrades to temporarily pause your retirement for the defence of the Motherland. Form a new battalion to aid our overworked allies." Loria's smile darkened and Mikel knew in an instant that despite his words, this was not a request. "We have chosen you to be the commander of this unit."
Retirement? Is that what we're calling it? Mikel thought bitterly, doing all he could to keep his thoughts from his face as he felt his body ache. The fact that the little man was playing this game with him was almost insulting, Krugov would have at least had the decency to simply beat him until he agreed, Loria hadn't even threatened him yet. It would come soon though he was sure, the smile and sweet words were just the veil he could pretend to hide them behind. Fine, we can both play that game.
"It is an honour Comrade Commissar! But why choose me? Surely someone younger like the General here would be more suitable." He replied innocently, taking a great deal of joy from the sudden panic on Sokalova's face.
The man's eyes darted between them for a moment and Mikel was sure he saw a flicker of understanding cross his smile.
"As I mentioned, Sokalova is needed to usher in the new generation. However, she speaks very highly of you and your record before your stay in Silberia is most impressive." Loria's smile broadened as he lifted up one of his papers and glanced down at it. "I understand you also studied in Albion before the revolution; that will be most useful, I'm sure. Although we will of course be providing officers from the Commissariat for Internal Affairs to aid in translation. Captain Krugov will also visit from time to time to smooth things over."
We choose you because you are disposable, and we are sending our own people to watch over you so that you don't cause trouble. He mentally interpreted, fighting the urge to slump his shoulders in a defeated sigh. Talking to this man was as depressing as it was exhausting.
"You will of course be rewarded for your faithful service and willingness to return to serve the Motherland." He continued, picking up another paper from the pile and Mikel's heart stopped as he saw a picture of his family on the page. He watched, feeling slightly ill as the bespectacled man licked his lips. "We have already moved your family to somewhere more comfortable. Such a cute daughter you have how old is she now?"
Mikel felt a spark of fury, something he'd thought had been long extinguished in the cold misery of the camps. Not only because of the implied threat to his family, the Commissariat of Internal Affairs had used them as a tool to assure his cooperation even before he had entered the lageri. Even if he still despised it, he'd grown used to the idea that their lives depended on his actions. But also, the indignation that they thought his loyalty to his country needed blackmail to ensure it.
He and his comrades had joined the military with the desire to serve and protect their nation. It did not matter who was in charge, be it the Tzar, the Council of Commissars or the General Secretary, a soldier's job was to fight for his country and he had always believed himself loyal to it. He might not have agreed with his nation's leaders, but he could damn well fight to keep invaders out!
Now with the Federation's foolish attack repulsed and the Empire pushing into the Motherland, he and his comrades would have gladly fought in its defence. But it wouldn't even cross the mind of men like this to appeal to his loyalty, threat was the only language they knew.
"She will be ten at the end of September Comrade Commissar." He felt himself shaking slightly as a sliver of anger began to slip through his neutral tone. "But I have not seen her since she was six."
"Ah, they are adorable at that age." The man replied, still staring at the picture, eliciting another stab of rage from Mikel. This time it did not go unnoticed, however, he could feel Krugov tense behind him while Sokalova tugged on his sleeve urgently under the table.
Loria's gaze moved away from the page for a moment, flicking between the three attendees with quick and calculating precision, pausing on Krugov for the longest before returning to Mikel. The smile returned and Mikel fancied he sensed a little something more from it than before, however, he was uncertain of what it might mean.
"That won't do! You must see your family again before you are deployed!" He replied breezily, carefully placing the paper back on the pile and returning his full attention to the meeting. "I will have them visit you while you assemble your troops. I shall even bring them to you myself."
"Thank you, Comrade Commissar but please don't trouble yourself." Mikel replied, feeling uncomfortable under the man's stare despite the joy he felt at the possibility of finally seeing his wife and children again. He felt the need to draw his attention away from his family as quickly as possible. "It will take some time to get our people up to speed. We haven't flown or used magic in several years now."
"You will be allowed a month to get yourselves in order." Loria replied, his eyes drifting towards the photograph once more. "We do not wish to risk upsetting our Albion friends by taking any longer, it is important we prove our commitment in this regard."
"And what of our orbs and flight gear?" Mikel shifted uncomfortably, wishing he could do more to keep the disgusting man's attention away from the papers. "Surely they will be outdated by now? If they have even survived in storage."
"No need to worry about that! Our Albion partners have donated new equipment, both domestically made by themselves and stock purchased from the Unified States. It will of course be inferior to the designs our scientists are working on but I'm sure you'll find them acceptable for the time being." The bespectacled man grinned before waving them away. "You had better get to work, there is no time to waste!"
Mikel wanted to object but the imposing figure of Krugov began to move, placing a hand on his shoulder that told him that the conversation was now over.
"Oh, one more thing Colonel." Loria continued as Mikel and Sokalova were shepherded towards the door. "Krugov may have some more specific tasks for you from time to time. See that you give them your undivided attention."
Mikel took the opportunity to take one more look at the little man. His grin widening and his eyes burned as he dropped the photograph and stared off into the distance.
"If you succeed, you will make me a very happy man."
July 6th Unified Year 1925 13:00
International Volunteer Battalion Temporary headquarters, Dologue Village, Russy Federation
Mary watched the rain run down the mess hall window dispassionately, the rhythmic beating of the water against the glass the only distraction from the tedium of peeling potatoes. Commander Drake had assigned her to help in the kitchens; a mixture of light duties while she recovered from the wounds and punishment for disobeying his orders in Tiegenhoff. The work itself wasn't so bad, it wasn't too different from cooking with her grandmother back in the Unified States. However, that didn't make her punishment any more bearable, not while she knew her comrades in arms were fighting and dying while she wasted away down here.
Just the thought made her heart ache. Once again she had been made powerless to protect those she cared about. Until Commander Drake gave the ok for her to return to active duty, she was of no use to anyone.
She let out a sigh and brought a hand to her chest. The Devil's gunshot was all but healed, she still felt weak, and she tired easily, but the medical mages had done their jobs well. The meticulous treatment of both them and the Federation doctors had meant there was nothing more than an ugly scar where the demon girl's bullet had so narrowly missed her heart. Yet the wound ached every day, echoing the near identical pain whenever she thought of her father, and more recently Damien.
An unwanted flash of memory broke through her thoughts. She barely recalled most of her struggle against the devil girl, and what she did remember only seemed like fragments of pain, shame, sorrow and rage viewed through a foggy lens of confusion. One thing she remembered vividly though was the look in the devil's eyes as she aimed her pistol at her head. Then the sudden crash and bewilderment as Damian burst into the church, distracting the devil for a brief moment, disrupting her aim and preventing her from taking the kill shot.
If it hadn't been for him…She thought, a tear reaching her eyes as she saw the injured boy lying at her feet in her mind's eye. He had saved her that day, she was sure of it. Despite how hard she had fought, despite her success in downing the evil creature, the devil had risen up once more and would have surely killed her if not for his sudden intervention. And now he's gone.
She fought back a sniff as tears rolled down her cheek, forcing her to pause her food preparation as she wiped her eyes on her sleeve. There had been no news of what had happened to her friend since that terrible day. Colonel Drake had claimed he hadn't even seen him as he'd scooped her up and evacuated her from the church. The boy had been lost to the confusion of the Devil and her flames.
Neither had they heard anything about him being taken captive. Other Allied Kingdom and Commonwealth officers whom the Empire had captured had been allowed to send letters home via the Waldstätte Confederacy so that they could let their friends and loved ones know that they had survived. However, they had heard no such news from Damien and none of the others who had sent letters back had seen him either. Mary feared the Devil had simply murdered him. She hadn't thought twice about attacking the people of Arene or Moscau, Mary doubted she would have any qualms executing an injured boy at her feet.
Her knuckles whitened as her grip reflexively tightened around the handle of the knife in her hand. The more she thought about these things the more the anger built in her once again and the more frustrated she became at not being able to act on it. But she also found herself feeling dreadfully exhausted.
Healing had left her feeling drained, as though what energy she had left had been spread out like butter scraped over too much bread. Although magical-induced medicine could speed up healing dramatically, it could not replace the nutrients that would otherwise be needed for the body's usual healing processes. Water, vitamins, sugars, fat and even muscle tissue were burned at an alarming rate while the physicians forced the body past its limits to heal itself, especially for severe injuries such as the ones the devil had inflicted on her. As a result, she had been left feeling even weaker and more pathetic than ever before. Something that only served to compound her feeling of uselessness.
Even with double rations and special exercises, she did not feel as though her strength was returning. Besides, getting extra food made her feel guilty. Mages already enjoyed greater rations than everyone else and she knew all too well that normal people both on the front lines and back home were making do with far less. It felt as though she were taking the food from their plates when they needed it the most.
She sighed again, trying to force her mind back to her task, her anger subsiding slightly as she felt her fatigue grow. Her concentration did not remain fixed for long, however, as the sound of urgent voices from outside reached her ears, pulling her gaze back towards the rain-soaked window once again.
Oh no, not more injured. She thought, a knot filling her stomach as she rushed to the door in time to see one of the flight wings return from their support mission. They looked battered and bruised and far fewer in number than when they had taken off earlier that day. It was becoming a worrying trend amongst the volunteer forces and despite fresh faces arriving via ship every week, the number of people in the battalion seemed to dwindle day by day.
Even from a distance, she could see that several of them had returned with nasty wounds and she felt the sense of dread and uselessness gnaw at her stomach even more. She swallowed, trying to steel herself as she rushed out into the pouring rain, not caring if she would get another reprimand from Commander Drake for abandoning her duties. Surely even he couldn't complain about her helping her injured squad mates.
However, as she closed she felt her knot of unease grow further as she recognised the grave faces of the wing in question, and felt her heart sink further as she saw a familiar figure being carried by a young Aquilonian Second Lieutenant.
"Vivi!" She cried in horror, feeling tears at the edge of her eyes once again as the copper-skinned woman carrying her placed the unmoving girl on a stretcher so she could be seen by one of the waiting medics.
Vivi's skin was unnaturally waxy and pale, looking more like a mannequin than the bright and cheerful friend she knew and loved. She was covered in blood, the deep ruby ichor staining both her navy uniform and auburn hair, making both seem almost black against the whiteness of her face. A deep and vicious cut lay across her chest from shoulder to hip, looking so deep that it almost seemed to slice her in half. But the worst part was the shocked look in her near-colourless eyes.
"Peggie! What happened?"
"We were ambushed…" The Aquilonian native replied awkwardly, shaking slightly as she looked down at her own blood-soaked uniform. Neither girl knew each other very well, nor did they often talk with one another. However, she had been Vivi's flight partner and wing commander for some time now and she had no reason to believe she would hide what had happened to her friend. "Vivi, she pushed me clear but…"
Her words drifted off as the medic caught their attention. He gave them a serious look before shaking his head and brought a sheet over the unmoving girl's face before moving on. The world seemed to still for a moment, with only the quiet patter of raindrops breaking the silence as both Legadonian and Aquilonian stared down at the sheet with a mixture of sorrow and disbelief.
No! Not Vivi! Not her too! Mary fell to her knees as another spasm of pain stabbed through her chest. She could no longer hold back the tears and wept openly as she once again felt as though her heart were being ripped from her chest. She felt cold, sick and unable to move as her eyes remained fixed on the sheet in front of her, water and blood mixing and staining the fabric where Vivi's wounds touched it.
First Papa, then Damian, now her too! It's too much! Her mind screamed between sobs. This isn't supposed to happen! I'm supposed to be able to protect them!
"I…I should report to Commander Drake." Peggie said eventually, slowly turning away from her and leaving Mary alone with her friend. Meanwhile, Mary simply continued to sob quietly to herself, ignored by the busying medics around her as the rain continued to fall and the ground began to turn to mud beneath her.
She didn't know how long she knelt there, it felt like both an eternity and a fraction of a second at the same time. None of it felt real and part of her desperately hoped she would awaken and find that this was nothing more than a nightmare. It was no dream however and eventually, some orderlies came to remove the bodies of the fallen, including her friend, and she wondered if she could find the energy to follow.
Tears mixed with rain until the rain abruptly ceased over her. Reluctantly, she pulled her gaze from her friend to see the sorrowful yet reassuring smile of one of her few remaining friends, Lieutenant Liliya Ivanova Tanechka, the Federation attaché. Her hand holding an umbrella over her, sheltering them both from the rain, while the other proffered a mug of steaming mug of soup.
"Mary, you should get out of the rain. You are still not recovered and will catch cold." She said, her accented voice holding a measure of rebuke as well as concern as she knelt to pass the soup to Mary and help her to her feet. Mary swayed slightly as she rose, the tumultuous storm of emotions swirling inside her head and making her feel dizzy and unsteady.
"Thank you Liliya." She murmured; her voice hoarse as she began to stagger towards where the orderlies were taking Vivi. "I…I should stay with her."
"Leave her to the corpsmen for now." The political officer replied quickly, a firm hand catching her arm and preventing her from following the medics. "It is better you rest for now."
Part of Mary desperately wanted to resist, she wanted to stay by her friend's side a little longer. After losing another loved one, it felt like the least she could do, however, something in the older woman's tone made her pause. Lilya was all she had left, and as silly as she knew it was, part of her feared she might be abandoned if she defied her. She couldn't bear to be left alone, not now. Not with all this emptiness.
"I…I should have been there for her." She said shakily, reluctantly pulling her eyes away from her fallen friend as the political officer gently led her back towards the barracks.
"I know losing comrades is difficult. I have lost many too." The older woman replied kindly and Mary found herself immensely grateful for the woman's presence. She truly did not know how she would cope without someone to help her through this. "But you should not blame yourself for their loss. We will remember their sacrifices."
"I should have…If…If I'd have been there…maybe I could have…" Anger and frustration began to bubble up inside her once again. Why was she always so helpless? She'd tried so hard not to have to feel this way anymore, yet history was repeating itself once again! And why? Because she was stuck peeling potatoes instead of helping her friends! It wasn't fair!
"But you were not. You are injured Mary, there is nothing you could have done for her."
"No!" Mary protested despite the small voice that feared Lilya's potential rejection. "I'm well enough to fight and I'm stronger than anyone else in the unit! I could have saved them! I could have saved her…."
Her voice trailed off as her grief gave rise to another round of sobbing. She wished Damien were here, even when things seemed at their lowest his unshakable faith helped her feel strong. Right now she was struggling to believe that God could allow something so terrible to happen. She needed to know that justice would come for those who had caused so much suffering. She needed reassurance that they hadn't died for nothing.
Damien's absence only made her doubts multiply; and made the void in her heart feel that much worse. Now that Vivi had been taken from her too, she felt as though it might swallow her completely.
"You believe you are healed enough to fight?" Lilya asked, holding Mary gently by the arm once again as she paused in her stride. Her eyes bored into her for a moment, studying her with an expression that Mary could not quite place.
Mary felt her confidence flee as she considered her impulsive declaration. She desperately wanted to believe that she was ready to fight but she feared the weariness across her body proved her words false. She was certain that things would have been different if she had been by Vivi's side but the doctors had said she was too weak to be allowed back on active duty. Colonel Drake had forbidden her from even taking a replacement orb until she recovered, muttering the words "Injured soldiers only had one duty." What if they were right? What if she were nothing more than a burden right now?
The political officer continued to study her for a moment longer before a small reassuring smile returned to her face. Mary couldn't help but feel a little of her resolve return at the warm gesture.
"Your Lieutenant Colonel Drake is a very cautious man when it comes to the welfare of his troops." She said eventually releasing the grip on her arm. "It is as you say. You are much stronger than much of the unit, maybe even him. It is laudable that he treats you as he does everyone else, but even we communists know equality is not the same as equity."
Mary stared back at Lilya uncertainly as the woman continued to smile at her, unsure of what she was trying to tell her.
"You were born with great strength, therefore it is only fair you take more responsibility to use it for the sake of your comrades." She explained, sensing her confusion. "You should ask the commander to be allowed back on active duty."
Mary looked back at her doubtfully. Commander Drake didn't much like her and he hated when she questioned his orders. She wasn't sure if he would ever let her rejoin her teammates.
"Do not worry. He may not show it, but Colonel Drake cares for his troops." Lilya continued, her encouraging smile forcing her doubts aside. "I'm sure he can be made to see reason. I'll even speak on your behalf."
She's right, Mary thought turning away from the barracks and towards the small wooden building that housed the Lieutenant Colonel's makeshift office. I need to see him now!
Mary strode off back into the rain, filled with renewed energy and purpose, not waiting for Lilya to catch up with her. What the political officer had said was true, she had been given greater strength, but it wasn't that she'd been born with it, she had prayed for it and she had squandered it.
No more! I don't care if he says no! God gave me this power to protect everyone! I will use it no matter what! She vowed as she marched through the mud and into Drake's office, not stopping as his adjutant moved to try and prevent her entry. However, her newfound confidence was quickly put to the test as her commander's voice reverberated around the cabin he used as his makeshift quarters.
"Four more?! Damn that little Bastard!" He bellowed, kicking his chair over with frustration, causing both her and the uncomfortable-looking Peggie to flinch in the face of their commander's wroth. "He hides in plain sight, rips us up piecemeal and there's not a damned thing we can do about it!"
Mary was stunned into silence as she listened to the colonel rage against the patrol's attackers. She'd never seen him so angry. Usually, he came across as a grumpy and dour old man, despite only being in his thirties. He'd always seemed to care little for what she or anyone else thought or wanted from him and although Vivi had always insisted he cared for their wellbeing, Mary had not seen much to prove it. However, it was clear even to her that the recent losses had upset him.
"If we could focus on him for even a few days we could drive him off." He growled bitterly, face set in a grim scowl. "But we're practically the only mages on the entire front and both the Reds and the Brass in Londinium seem to think we can be everywhere at once!"
He seems stressed, she realised, considering the man's position for the first time. It was true that almost all magical support tasks for the entire Russy front had fallen on Drake and the volunteers' shoulders. They'd been requested for every sort of mission from artillery spotting to recon in force and although Lilya had told her that Mages were mistrusted amongst the Russy soldiers, since the Imperial counter-attack they had found themselves in increasing demand. As the highest-ranking mage around, the Drake had been making all the choices about where they would deploy, but she'd heard there were far more missions than the Commonwealth and volunteer mages could handle. All the more reason I should be back fighting instead of peeling potatoes.
"Excuse me, Colonel Drake?" She called, doing her best to keep hold of her determination as Drake's glowering face turned and he noticed her for the first time.
"What are you doing here Sioux?" He replied bluntly, a measure of his usual level tone and stony expression returning to his face. "You're supposed to be on kitchen duty."
She opened her mouth to reply but to her surprise it was Peggie who spoke first, interjecting on her behalf.
"Mary helped out when we touched down." The Aquilonian said quickly, making Mary feel a little guilty for how much she needed to bend the truth about her contribution. "She was there when we got the news about Lieutenant Kelly."
"I see." Drake replied, his expression softening.
Don't you dare feel sorry for me! Her mind screamed, unsure if her conviction to get back to the front lines would stand up to his sorrowful sympathetic gaze. It was a look shared by the Aquilonian girl too, it was a look she'd seen all too often after the death of her father; Damien too. She hated it.
"Sir! I want… No, I need to be put back on active duty!" Mary ignored him, unwilling to let his pity dissuade her from her task as she fixed him with a determined glare. "Please! I can't let this keep happening."
"Sioux, I know you and Kelly were close but there isn't anything you could have."
"That's not true! And I'm tired of hearing it!" She blurted, her voice rising with frustration as she interrupted her superior. "I know I could have done something to protect her! To protect all of them!"
She saw Drake's eye twitch with a familiar stab of annoyance and she could see he was working hard not to simply just explode at her again. Part of her was equally annoyed by that, it was another sign of his attempts to be patient with her after the loss of her friends. Another sign of him treating her like a child.
"I can't put you back on duty." He said eventually, voice straining with effort to remain calm. "Our doctors say you haven't recovered. I shouldn't have to remind you that you are lucky to be alive. You can return to duty once you're healed up. Understood?"
"But sir! I'm well enough to." Mary began to protest but this time it was Drake's turn to cut her off.
"Thant's enough, Second Lieutenant!" He barked stunning her to silence, "This isn't a debate! Now return to your duties in the kitchen."
Mary felt her heart drop as she realised he wasn't going to let her argue her case but resolved herself to at least let her displeasure show on her face. Why did he have to be this way? He might have been trying to be considerate of her in his own way but he was completely ignoring her feelings! It wasn't fair!
He looked as though he were going to continue to berate her, he was likely irritated by her attitude, and he often seemed to see her protests as her being disobedient. However, his gaze shifted to her side and his eyes narrowed as he stared past her.
"Lieutenant Tanechka." He said eventually, carefully bringing his voice back under control. "Is there something I can help you with?"
Mary glanced back and saw the political officer carefully shaking the rain off her umbrella as she entered Drake's office. She hadn't heard the woman come in and she felt a little embarrassment and shame. She had likely heard the argument with the commander, at least the part about her still being confined to kitchen duty.
"I'm sorry for the interruption Lieutenant Colonel Drake, I know it is not my place but I am confused as to why you are denying Lieutenant Sioux's request." She replied, striding in confidently with a smile. "You were only telling me yesterday that you are chronically short of personnel."
Mary felt a sliver of hope return as her friend spoke in her defence. Although Lilya was a much lower rank than the colonel, she was a representative of an allied nation, their host at that, surely he would have to listen to her. However, a flicker of doubt remained as Drake's frown deepened.
"Magical officers are a finite resource. We don't throw them into combat when they are injured." He replied, the hint of a growl returning to his voice. However, if Lilya noticed the thinly veiled hostility, she chose not to notice. "Until the company doctor gives the ok, she stays on light duties."
"I admit I am no medic but Miss Sioux seems fine to me." The Russy woman replied smiling brightly in the face of Commander Drake's displeasure. "And your Doctor Phillips is very busy, he has little time to perform check-ups. I could arrange for more of our medics to see to your men, I'm sure they would proclaim Miss Sioux fit for duty."
"I'm sure they would." Drake muttered darkly, barely audible to the other officers, and fell silent for a moment as he seemed to consider her words. She feared the worst when his frown intensified but Lilya's smile and quiet support gave her some hope that she still might get her way.
"The Commonwealth and Volunteer Forces gratefully accept the Federation's offer to supply more medical personnel." He replied eventually, almost through gritted teeth and much to Mary's surprise. It never ceased to amaze and confuse her how much Commander Drake seemed to mistrust the Russy forces, at times it felt like he respected the Imperials more than he did his own allies. "As to the other matter, there is no need. I will speak to Doctor Phillips myself and have him check Sioux over. If he agrees Sioux can join me on one of the patrols at the end of the week."
Mary felt a rush of relief, as well as a healthy dose of vindication, as he heard his words. She and Lilya had won! However, she did her best to keep it from her face, fearing that Colonel Drake might change his mind. All she needed to do now was convince the doctor she was fit enough to fight.
"Thank you, sir!" She replied brightly and with renewed energy.
"But no heroics this time. We can't afford to be reckless." He retorted quickly, however, her enthusiasm was undimmed by his reprimand.
"Yes sir! I promise!"
Drake only replied with a grunt, gesturing that she and Peggie were dismissed. She turned and allowed herself a small smile of triumph.
I promise that this time I'll keep everyone safe!
Author's notes
It feels like it has taken an age to write this chapter and if I'm completely honest I'm glad to finally get it out and "done with." My beta reader, Vickers, feels this chapter is lacking a bit on the excitement front and, although I initially disagreed with him, after rereading I can somewhat see what he means. However, I intended this to be more of a catchup/set-up sort of chapter since we have skipped forward a month or so and I figure that if you're this far into the story, you probably don't need a dramatic hook to get you invested.
Besides which, it isn't as though nothing is happening, Will is hunting mages, the Federation is starting to train their own to counter the Empire and Mary has lost yet another friend (RIP Vivi) and is out to put a stop to the one responsible. But What about Tanya? I hear you ask. Well, we'll hear from her next time, she's still happy (chocolate deficiency aside) in the rear for the moment doing one of her favourite things: paperwork! What could go wrong?
The Will part was fun to write, especially the chocolate theft. I'd decided on that before I had written the bonus chapter and I thought you would like to see both character's views on it. Thinking of ways he'd try to outwit the commonwealth mages has been fun too. I feel like I've been lazy with much of his plotting in the past and explained too much away with "he's smart" so explaining how he actually has thought things out to get his way is nice.
The Colonel Mikel part was a little challenging but then again all the communist stuff seems to end up that way. He is canon in the LN (not sure if the manga has got to him yet, at least the translated parts) and he never came across as angry to me, just sort of resigned to his fate so I wanted that to come across in his section. I thought he should have a little spark left though, so I allowed him a bit of anger when his family was threatened by Loria and some bitterness with Gen Sokalova.
Speaking of her, it bothered me that there wasn't really a proper command structure for the Russy mages in the LN and that they just seemingly picked all their mages out of the camps and let them get on with it. Hence why I wanted to explain it all away in this section. Also, the idea of a turncoat who sells out her own comrades to save her skin and gain favour is always a good trope, although, tbf I don't know if I needed to add any more communist characters for you readers to hate haha.
Finally, the Mary part (insert boo's here). As much as some of you would like her to just be beaten and out of the story (and the canon) for good, she still has a part to play in this story for the moment. So, unfortunately, she has to get better.
I always feel as though I don't write her especially well. I've tried to make her a little more sympathetic than she often comes across in the other media but I think the main problem is that her motivations are far simpler than the other characters. I know this is the point, she is supposed to juxtapose Tanya's logic with her feelings and ultimately unlike Tanya, and in this story Will, she is emotionally still a naive child. Because of that, it's a little tricky to walk the line between naivety and stupidity.
It's interesting in a way because I think if Youjo Senki were written entirely from her point of view, you would have a fairly solid Shonen/Shoji plot. That being said, I'm doing my best to make her losses mirror other characters in a way and make her hatred seem a little more reasonable in the more complicated world of not WW 1.5.
As always, thanks for reading, reviewing, following and favouriting.
Xanen (AKA Lord Slous)
