Chapter 5 – Accounts
"For our light and momentary troubles are achieving for us an eternal glory that far outweighs them all. So we fix our eyes not on what is seen, but on what is unseen, since what is seen is temporary, but what is unseen is eternal."
-2 Corinthians 4:17-18
The first sensation that washed over me was the warmth of the sheets against my skin. It was a strange, almost foreign feeling after everything. The rhythmic beeping nearby was the next thing that registered, a steady pulse that anchored me as I drifted between sleep and wakefulness. Slowly, I forced my eyes open and my vision is still a bit hazy. After couple of seconds later, my vision becomes a bit clearer and I can finally process what's around me.
The room I am currently in has white walls, the smell inside the room also has the sterile smell of antiseptic and a single light on the celling, casting a gentle glow over the room. I could also make up a machine beside me? I blinked a few times, trying to clear the fog from my mind.
As the minutes passed, the world sharpened, and I became more aware of my surroundings. The beeping grew louder, more distinct, and I realized I was in a hospital room. I am currently in bed with a blanket covering my whole body. Based on what I am feeling right now, I wasn't wearing anything besides a hospital gown. A strange comfort settled over me as I tried to gather my thoughts. But then, the room felt suddenly so cold.
The silence was shattered by the distant sound of gunfire outside the room. What the hell is happening right now? Are we getting attacked by terrorists or something?! I Just woke up!
My body gradually becomes tensed when I heard that, the sudden noise jarring me awake completely. Bloodcurdling screams of a woman followed that made me disturbed to the core as they echoed down the hallways outside the room my heart began to race rapidly… this isn't good for me, at this rate I might past out again.
And before I knew it, the door to my room burst open with a violent crash. A figure stood in the doorway, and my eyes widen as my blood ran cold… ITS, IT'S THE ONE WHO RIPPED MY COMRADES APART LIKE THEY WERE PAPER!
She stepped inside, her presence suffocating me as the atmosphere thickened, like being pulled into the depths of the ocean. Then her eyes locked onto mine, a twisted smile curling on her lips. "Hello, we meet again~" she sang, her voice dripping with sadistic glee. NO! STAY AWAY!
Before I could react, she was upon me. Her hand shot out, grabbing my neck with a grip that felt like steel, and I couldn't speak a word. "Gaahh…hkk…chhkk-guhh."
After grabbing me by the neck, she forcibly dragged me from the bed, my body hitting the cold floor with a painful thud.
"Y'know, I'm really glad we're together again. Ah, why don't we finish what I started, huh? Sounds fun, right~?" she taunted, her voice laced with mocking amusement as she loomed over me.
Desperation surged through me, and I screamed, "W-Wh-What the fuck are you doing here demon?!" My voice cracked with fear as I stuttered, the words in my mouth are spilling out in a panicked rush.
Purifier's smile widened, her eyes gleaming with twisted pleasure. "Hm? Giving you a ticket to the other side?" she cooed, her voice a sickening mockery of comfort. "Just doing you a favor to 'end it all', don't worry, no one will interrupt us now"
"Now hold still~" she purred, her grip tightening on my arm. I felt a sharp, excruciating pain as she began to pull, and then—
"NO! NO! I DON'T WANT TO— GAHH!"
I woke up, gasping for air, my body drenched in cold sweat. My heart pounded in my chest as I frantically looked around. The room was quiet, and the door wasn't blown off its hinges. Only the steady beeping of the vital sign monitor beside me broke the silence.
I woke up, gasping for air, my body drenched in cold sweat. My heart pounded in my chest as I frantically looked around. The room was quiet, and the door wasn't blown off its hinges. Only the steady beeping of the vital sign monitor beside me broke the silence.
I raised my left arm in front of me. It was shaking, trembling uncontrollably, but it's a good thing that I could still feel it. I clenched my fist, willing it to stop, but the tremors wouldn't subside. I let out a shaky breath. Ah, thank god—it was just a nightmare, huh? A really bad one.
"Mr. Fischer, are you okay!? I heard you screaming!" she asked, her voice gentle yet urgent.
I nodded shakily, still trying to catch my breath. "I-I'm fine… just a… dream," I managed to say, my voice hoarse and unsteady.
The nurse, a woman with dirty blonde hair tied back in a neat bun and bright blue eyes, sighed in relief. "Haahh, I thought you were in pain or something. Don't worry, you're safe here," she assured me, her voice calming. "We're currently in Point Alderhorst Military hospital, in Berlin. You've been here for about three weeks now."
Three weeks? Her words barely registered as I continued to focus on steadying my breathing. It felt like I had been in that fort only yesterday, surrounded by the death screams of my comrades and the destruction sirens unleashed on that time.
The nurse gently placed a hand on my arm, grounding me. "You've been through a lot. But again, you're safe now," she repeated, her tone soft and reassuring.
"Wilhelm... where, is he...?" I asked, my voice trembling slightly as I forced myself to think of something else.
She smiles. "He's alive. He woke up two days ago. He was called over by General Winters after he was discharged yesterday. After that, I don't really know what he's doing or his whereabouts… You might be called over too, after you leave this place. At least, that's what they told me."
A wave of relief washed over me; at least I knew he was okay. We had both made it out alive, though barely. I really thought I was going to be alone again.
As I processed this, I noticed the nurse walking over to the window. She drew back the curtains, allowing sunlight to flood the room. I squinted against the brightness, blinking in confusion. It's not snow? The trees outside are lush with fresh green leaves. That's when I noticed something alarming. Wait…its…spring time already?
I frowned. It was strange…isn't it supposed to still be February or March? It had only been three weeks since the battle, hadn't it? I'm a bit lost here…is the nurse lying to me? No… she couldn't be.
"What month is it?" I asked after clearing my throat, my voice wavering with uncertainty.
The nurse turned back to me, a puzzled expression on her face. "It's May... hm? Mr. Fischer, is something wrong?" No way.
My mind raced. How could it be May already? I had only been in the fort for a few days, and hospitalized for three weeks… yet it's now May? Wait, is it because of that tower thing? It's possible, but I wasn't sure of anything anymore.
"Are you alright, Mr. Fischer?" the nurse asked, noting the shock on my face.
I shook my head slightly, snapping myself out of the daze. "Y-Yeah... I'm fine. Just need something to eat, I'm… kind of famished right now," I muttered, trying to deflect the subject. "Could you, um… could you get me something, miss?" I added, realizing I didn't even know her name.
"It's Nurse Hilda, and of course, I'll bring you something light to eat." Her expression softened a bit.
As she left the room to fetch the meal, I let my head fall back against the pillow, staring up at the ceiling. The constant beeping of the monitor beside me was a steady reminder that I was still here, still alive… though barely alive due to... anyways, I raised my hand above my head and stared at it for a few seconds before resting it on my chest. The fact that I might have experienced something out of a sci-fi or fictional novel—with a time-skipping thing or whatever it was—was mind-boggling. Springtime outside was already more than enough proof to convince me that I had time-traveled.
After a few minutes, the nurse returned with a tray of food. Oh, thank god… I saw some kind of soup, four slices of bread, and two red apples. She placed the tray beside me on the metal table, and then set up a portable table over my lap before placing the food in front of me.
After ensuring I was settled, the nurse excused herself, mentioning she'll inform the doctor of my current condition. As she stepped out, I was left alone with my thoughts.
The silence of the room allowed the memories of Fort to flood back. Again how in god's name did I survived all that? It only felt like two days, but it was the most hellish experience I have in my life…being trapped inside, surrounded on all sides and not being able to communicate with high-command… I remember how that monster literally tear my comrades apart…I didn't really get to know everybody there since 600 of us were cramped inside there but I did get to know a few people there…some really had big dreams, goals and some even have children back home… now they left all that behind, but what are we going to do about it. Everyone in the fort has perished including Major Weber who sacrificed himself for us to live the tale.
I proceeded to chew on my piece of bread, unable to stop replaying the events in my mind. The deafening roar of explosions, the desperate shouts of my comrades as the Sirens breached the defenses, and the gruesome image of the demon who called herself "Purifier" tearing my comrades apart, limb by limb, as if they were nothing more than livestock.
I glanced to my left and noticed the TV remote sitting on the bedside table. Needing a distraction, I reached over, grabbed it, and turned on the television. The screen flickered to life, revealing a news broadcast.
The anchor's voice was calm, almost detached, as she reported on the current situation in the Ardennes. The footage shifted, displaying aerial views of the devastation—charred earth, crumbled patches of human settlement, and the shattered remains of the fort. The anchor described the immense loss of life, mentioning thousands of soldiers dead and only a few civilians who managed to survive. The scene changed to show a field reporter standing in what seemed to be a semi-ruined town, interviewing a family of three huddled together.
The woman, clutching her baby daughter tightly, spoke to the camera with tears in her eyes. "We heard the screams outside… saw soldiers dropping like flies as the Sirens attacked. There was nothing we could do," she said, her voice trembling. "We hid in our basement with barely any food until Ironblood soldiers found us. I thought we were going to die there…"
Beside her, the father nodded solemnly, his arm wrapped protectively around his wife.
Wait… I leaned in closer, squinting at the screen. I recognize that woman… that's the lady from the bakery. She and her family survived? I'm glad…
The report went on, describing recovery efforts aimed not only at restoring the region but also preserving what little wildlife remained. They planned to leave the fort as it was—a memorial to those who had fallen, to honor their sacrifice. So they're really going to preserve it? That's quite surprising… High command usually issues orders to demolish what's no longer of use or, in rare cases, restore things lost on the battlefield.
The screen shifted again, this time showing the Chancellor of Ironblood standing before a podium adorned with the Iron cross emblem. His face was somber as he addressed the nation and the world.
"The Sirens launched a massive attack on the region," The Chancellor recalled the tragic events that had unfolded in the Ardennes, his tone grave. "They struck at the heart of territories under the protection of our great nation and our allies, the Iris Orthodoxy; resulting 20000 deaths, and 3,658 missing. The casualties are under the dedicated care of our Frontline Trauma teams as we speak."
He paused, bowing his head slightly before continuing. "To the families, friends, and loved ones of those affected, I extend my deepest condolences for this devastating humanitarian disaster."
The Chancellor straightened his gaze hardening as he raised his voice. "But let it be known to all watching today: The Hammer of God will fall on all these evildoers. We will not rest until every last one of them is brought to justice, and our lands are once again safe. Ironblood stands resolute, and we will answer their cruelty with unwavering strength and purpose."
"…" I don't even want to think about it anymore.
Before I could dwell on it further, the door to my room opened, and a doctor walked in. He was a middle-aged man with graying hair and green eyes, his white coat crisp and clean. He gave me a reassuring smile as he approached the bed.
"You're finally awake, Mr. Fischer," he said, glancing at the monitor beside me before meeting my gaze. "I'm Dr. Weiss Friedhelm. How are you feeling now? Do you feel any sort of pain or abnormalities?"
I swallowed, trying to find the right words. "I'm okay…I guess" I replied simply.
Dr. Weiss nodded his expression understanding. "We've been monitoring you closely since you arrived. You suffered from severe exhaustion, dehydration, and multiple lacerations and bruises. Thankfully, there's no permanent damage, and it's quite a miracle that your body is able to heal so fast."
I nodded slowly. Oh thank God… so it's not my time yet, huh? I could use a few days of rest.
Dr. Weiss paused for a moment before continuing, "You'll be discharged tomorrow morning, by the way. Physically, you've improved greatly over the last few days, but I'd still recommend taking it easy for a while. Recovery doesn't end when you leave the hospital." Wait… WHAT? CAN I NOT REST FOR A FEW DAYS?
I nodded again, processing everything. "…Thank you, Doc," I said quietly, Ah I guess I'm able to function properly but still…I want to sleep here for like 3 more days.
Dr. Weiss nodded. "It's my job. Rest well, Corporal. I'll be checking in again later." He said to me before leaving the room.
Before I could fall too deep into my thoughts and then sleep, the door creaked open again. I glanced at the door in front of me, expecting the nurse, but instead, a woman entered in my room. But she's neither my nurse nor any nurse.
She is wearing a maid's uniform; she has long violet hair cascading down her back in a neat ponytail. Her violet eyes scanned the room briefly before they landed on me. She stood tall, composed, she wore a blank expression—until she let out a small, polite smile as she stepped forward, closing the door behind her.
"Pardon the intrusion..." she said softly, her voice calm yet formal.
Her presence was striking, to say the least. While her uniform was standard, one of her notable features was her chest…well she was rather well endowed for someone with such a refined and professional appearance. Overall, but god she's beaut—
"I am Lydia, the head maid of General Winter's household," she introduced herself, her smile quickly fading as her face returned to its neutral, almost blank expression. She took a step further into the room.
Head maid? Why would a general send one of his maids here for me? I shifted slightly in bed, still the thought.
"The doctor told me that you'll be discharged tomorrow," Lydia continued, her tone professional, though there was an undercurrent of warmth. "General Winter has requested your presence at his estate. He wishes to speak with you privately regarding your unfortunate time at the fort."
I blinked, trying to wrap my head around what she was saying. "…Speak to me?"
Lydia gave a small nod, her expression remaining unchanged. "Yes. The General values the insights of soldiers like you, especially those who have survived such extraordinary events. He believes your testimony could provide crucial information for future operations."
Her eyes never left mine as she spoke, and there was a quiet intensity behind them. I felt a surge of nervousness at the thought of meeting with a General alone in a room.
"I Understand Ms. Lydia, I'll…I'll get ready tomorrow" I replied my voice hoarse but firm.
She must have sensed my unease because she offered a faint, smile. "You need not worry, Corporal. General Winter is a good man and he is not one for personal formalities during personal meetings"
I nodded slightly, feeling a mix of relief and anxiety. "I-I see…Thank you Ms. Lydia"
Lydia inclined her head gracefully. "I will return here tomorrow at 8 AM sharp to escort you to the General's office. The estate is located here in Point Alderhorst, just a short distance from this hospital. Please be ready at that time."
Her formality didn't falter for a second, even as she bowed slightly, a gesture of respect. "If you require anything before then, please don't hesitate to ask. I will ensure everything is prepared for your arrival."
I offered her a small nod, feeling a bit more grounded by her calm professionalism. "I appreciate that."
A brief smile crossed her face. "I apologize again for disturbing your rest. I will take my leave now, but rest assured, I'll return in the morning to guide you."
With that, Lydia turned, her posture as straight as when she entered, and quietly exited the room, leaving me alone once more.
"Hahh… God, can't they just let me rest here for a few days?" I muttered to myself as I collapsed back onto the bed.
"Master's office is on the 3rd floor. Just follow me, Mr. Fischer," Lydia said, her tone professional, her expression unreadable, as we passed through the estate's entrance—two fancy wooden doors that swung open as we approached.
As I stepped into the mansion, I was immediately struck by its grandeur. The place is practically dripping with wealth. Right at the entrance stood a massive statue—probably eight or nine feet tall—of an angel wielding a sword, its tip pointed downward at a devil. A massive chandelier hung from the ceiling, casting a warm, golden glow. Everywhere I looked, everything was fancy, from the meticulously polished floors to the elaborate carvings in the walls and the elegant furniture.
A few maids were scattered around, busy with their duties, scrubbing and cleaning, as if ensuring that even the smallest speck of dust should be eradicated. Some Butlers are moving around too. Guards stationed throughout the mansion; some patrolling, some standing still like they're statues. They didn't even blink, reminding me of the guards from another country I'd read about in that newspaper once. Was it the royal guards of London that was called?
I was so lost in thought, taking in the extravagant surroundings, that I didn't even realize Lydia had moved ahead.
"Mr. Fischer!" Lydia's voice snapped me out of my daze. She was already halfway up the grand staircase, her voice soft but commanding enough to bring me back to reality.
"Ah, sorry!" I said and hastily following behind her.
As I trailed after her, I couldn't help but continue marveling at the place. Everything screamed luxury—the kind of lifestyle that many could only dream of. I'm from a low-middle class family. I couldn't help but wonder if all high-class people that own many mega businesses or corporations are living like this? Like kings or queens in their own castles. And why wouldn't they? They owned massive industries, controlled vast networks of resources, and had enough influence to shape the world as they pleased, because have the power to do so. It wasn't a stretch to think they looked down on people like me—brutes, filthy commoners—only useful as long as we served their interests. How exactly they ruin people's lives for their gain is a story for another time.
By the time I snapped out of my musings again, we had reached the third floor. The stairs had led us to an even more elaborately decorated hall. I glanced at Lydia's back, and despite myself, I noticed how her chest slightly jiggled with each step she took. What am I even thinking? I scolded myself. I may be a virgin, but I'm a grown man, and I should know better than to think like this—especially about a kind and beautiful lady like Lydia.
"His office is just at the end of this hallway, Mr. Fischer," Lydia said again, her voice soft but professional, snapping me out of my improper thoughts.
"Alright," I replied, falling in step beside her as I spotted two guards stationed at the entrance to General Winter's office.
We continued walking down the hall. Seconds later, Lydia stopped in front of the double doors, causing me to stop as well. Without a word, the guards opened the doors for us, and we stepped into the office.
The room had the look of a typical high-ranking military official's office. There are paintings on the walls—portraits of historical figures like Frederick the Great, Napoleon Bonaparte, and Otto von Bismarck, the man who united the 39 Ironblood states into one nation. How did I know this? I've always been an avid reader, especially when it came to history.
I glanced around, taking in the details. Is our general a nerd in history too? Or maybe he just looked to these figures for inspiration? Seems like a plausible cause.
"It looks like Master Winters is still getting ready," Lydia said, stepping closer to me. Her violet eyes met mine as she wore a blank expression. I couldn't tell what she was thinking, "You can look around for a bit or just seat on the couch here. I'm sure master won't mind you have a little tour around here, just don't touch anything."
After Lydia said all of that, she left the room, likely to fetch something. I decided not to sit down. Sitting on the couch would've just made me more impatient. Instead, I took a final glance at the painting of Bismarck before moving to the one of Friedrich der Große.
Friedrich is standing in a proud pose, holding some kind of stick or cane? Gazing upward as if looking at the heavens or god himself. I didn't know much about him, but I heard that he expanded Ironblood's territories and creating a powerful military worthy for being recognized as a world power? It's quite an over exaggeration by putting it that way, but the statement is every world leader's wet dream that only have little resources and influence around the world. I also heard there's a shipgirl named after him… I wonder what she looks like.
After that I turned to face the painting of Napoleon Bonaparte which is beside the Friedrich's. The painting depicted him riding a horse, leading his troops up the Sardeginian Alps, their figures dwarfed by the enormous mountains behind them.
He is recognized as the greatest general in history, someone who is admired by millions around the world, myself included. His military genius is undeniable—he redefined the art of war, bringing strategy, mobility, and artillery together in ways no one else had. From the victory at Austerlitz to the sheer ambition of his campaigns, he became a living legend.
I let my eyes linger on the Napoleon painting for a bit, lost in thought until I hear a door closing.
"Is history your interest too, Corporal?"
I turned quickly around and saw General Winter himself standing beside his oak desk.
The man in front of me had a composed yet commanding presence. He had dark brown hair, streaked with white at the temples, a handsome face with signs of aging, his hair neatly combed, and amber-brown eyes behind square glasses that observed me with a calm yet piercing intensity. His expression was unreadable, neither harsh nor kind.
"General!" I immediately straightened and saluted my body stiffening at the sight of him.
"At ease, Corporal. I apologize for keeping you waiting. Something… unexpected came up," he said, his voice measured but soft, as if the delay had been minor despite its obvious importance. His expression barely shifted, remaining neutral and composed.
He gestured to a nearby couch. "Come, sit."
I followed his instruction and took a seat on the couch, with the general sitting across from me on the opposite side of a glass table. Lydia entered a moment later, carrying a tray with two teacups, a teapot, and a plate of biscuits. I wondered why it had taken so long—surely preparing tea and biscuits was a quick task, especially for someone with her experience. Still, I pushed the thought aside, trying not to let paranoia cloud my judgment in this formal setting.
Lydia placed a cup before me, poured the tea, set down the plate of biscuits, and then handed the document she was holding to the general. As she finished, she stood up straight and bowed.
"Danke, dear," General Winter said in a slightly warmer tone, almost affectionate, which caught me off guard. What was that about?
I glanced at Lydia, noticing that her cheeks were faintly red, though she maintained the same expression as she straightened herself.
As Lydia bowed and left, the general's demeanor shifted, becoming more serious. His eyes locked onto mine with a determined expression. "Your sergeant told me everything that happened back in the Ardennes, starting from the day you and your squad arrived to the moment you and your friend were found injured in that small village," he said in a measured, low voice. "So there'll be no need for you to talk."
Wait, really? Then why am I here if the major Intel has already been shared?
"So, let's start with you, Corporal Oswald August Fischer. You're quite an individual… I must admit, I'm surprised that someone like you, who's seen so much combat, is still with us." General Winter waved the document he was holding, his tone a mix of curiosity and disbelief. I know I've been reckless at times, always risking my life to save others, but does he really expect a soldier to die the moment they step onto the battlefield?
"Don't take this the wrong way," he continued. "I've reviewed your entire file."
"With all due respect, General, what exactly are you trying to say?" I couldn't quite keep the edge out of my voice.
"You remind me of a Templar knight, or maybe an archangel. Despite all the long range technology and tactics we have, you've managed to take down a significant number of adversaries using close-combat and short-range weapons. And remarkably, you've sustained only minor injuries." What? That's the most exaggerated thing I've ever heard. Or… wait. Did I actually do all that without realizing it? Sure, I remember diving headfirst into firefights to save my comrades—because that's my duty, that's what I was trained for. Most importantly, I was only trying to protect my patients.
"A soldier with a death wish would have been a casualty long ago," Winter continued, his gaze sharp. "But you, Corporal, you've defied the odds again and again. Soldiers like you, who perform such acts of bravery, are extremely valuable."
"The others should get the recognition, sir. It wouldn't be fair to those who di—"
"Just because you survived doesn't mean you don't deserve any recognition, Corporal." Winters cut me off, and I can feel the weight of his words. "Let me clarify if it's still unclear. At the early stages of our war with Azur Lane, you were a member of the Crimson Vanguard Platoon, 3rd Company, 5th Panzergrenadier Battalion of the 19th Ironblood Army." Heh, no surprise he knows all about me. High ranking officials like him can access records from any footman soldiers like me.
"You and your fellow soldiers were ordered to advance toward Iris Orthodoxy by General von Bernhard. The advance began with a push through the Ardennes forest, with the main thrust of the Panzer divisions under Generals Heinz and Adelbert. The goal was to bypass the heavily fortified Maginot Line and strike through the less-defended regions of the country." Yeah, that's what we did. It was a long journey, hours of trip to the Iris, but it felt... kind of relieving because we are surrounded by our tanks and it provided a sense of security within me.
"After pushing through the Ardennes with minimal resistance, you and your comrades encountered stronger defenses at the Meuse River, particularly in Sedan. However, the Iris forces were quickly overwhelmed, allowing you to secure the crossing. The advance continued with sporadic resistance until you reached Lille, where the defenders were swiftly encircled, leading to the capture of thousands of Iris soldiers." We did what we had to. It was brutal but quick. We had our speakers on our trucks full on blast for the remaining Iris soldiers that are inside the houses to surrender as it was futile to fight because they were surrounded. Minutes later they came out of the houses with both of their hands in the air. One of the officers ordered me to treat some of the Iris soldiers that are wounded and so I did.
"Not long after, the combined forces of the Eagle Union, Royal Navy, and Iris Orthodoxy launched a counteroffensive, forcing us to retreat back into the Ardennes. During the fierce battles, you saved many of your wounded comrades, carrying them to safety in a nearby town despite the ongoing fighting. Reports indicate you rescued as many as 30 men, repeatedly returning to the battlefield while disregarding your own safety."
That was one of the scariest moments of my life. I honestly thought I was going to die, because there's snipers firing at me and I manage to evade them. I couldn't save everyone because I was told to just abandon everything and regroup. Our generals decided to throw everything we had at the Azur Lane Coalition forces, hoping to hold them off until reinforcements arrived. By some miracle, we're able to push them back for a few days until they came back with a bigger force and pushed us back again.
Before we retreated, I managed to save dozens of men, dragging them across the battlefield. I threw smoke grenades just like I did back at the fort and treated my comrades in the middle of the smoke. But some tommies came at my position, and pointed their guns at me. One notable thing I immediately notice is the face they wore at that time… it's just…pure hatred. They were about to kill me and my patient, so I had react fast to kill them quickly, and my adrenaline rush at that time was able to save me at that time. I was so thankful I still had my sidearm, or we'll be dead too.
There were times I had to tackle soldiers trying to kill our wounded who's completely helpless on the ground and without me noticing, my comrades say that I literally 'butchered' them alive with the machete I have at that time and that I was a completely different person. I guess I got so angry that my real self-went unconscious and a devil were controlling my body? That could be the reason? Seems a bit stupid to think about that though.
"Although a brief counterattack was initially successful, Azur Lane reinforcements pushed us back into defensive positions in one of the Ardennes towns. One of the fortified locations was the town of Nueunberg. Tragically, this town became infamous for the execution of 122 Azur Lane POWs. Under orders of your Company Commander, Captain Heinz Schmidt, these men were executed by MG42 machine guns, crushed under tanks, stabbed repeatedly, or shot by firing squads. The locals there say didn't die immediately after the MG42 fire due to the fact that they were shot in the chest region and the legs and waited them to bleed out until they succumbed to their severe injuries, causing unnecessary suffering. You were part of this, too, Corporal." General Winters' tone shifts. He looks at me with a serious expression, his glasses glinting under the light inside the office as I avoid his eye contact, I was frightened when he mentioned about the massacre…I just grab my teacup and sip on it while avoiding his gaze.
"You look frightened corporal, there's nothing to worry about…you're clean." General winters reassured. I'm not sure about that…I mean, I killed many people.
I stayed silent again, processing his words. I know that... It's just... at that point; I began to question myself, wondering what I was even doing and how I ended up in that place. I was so naïve, thinking that war would be some grand adventure where I could contribute to the Fatherland, just like they told us before we completed basic training. I was one of the men in the firing squad; my comrades and I were ordered to line up 20 of Azur Lane's soldiers against the wall. Twenty of us also lined up in front of them with our rifles. Captain Schmidt told us to aim for their necks, not their heads, so they wouldn't die immediately—they would suffer, bleeding out for the men they had killed and possibly tortured. After our captain gave the order to shoot, all of us pulled the trigger, and 19 soldiers fell to the ground. Except for one...because I didn't shoot. It felt so wrong to kill unarmed soldiers, especially like that. My hands trembled, and all I could think about was how I'd live with the guilt.
My company commander was furious when he saw I hadn't fired. He grabbed the collar of my uniform with both hands, trying to intimidate me, accusing me of being a sympathizer, a coward, and a traitor for not following his illegal orders. He was about to kill me with his sidearm—I was ready to fight him—but at that moment, one of our overwatch screamed that an Azur Lane coalition force had returned. That ultimately led to our surrender, and we were taken as prisoners of war... until the Sirens came.
"…After the garrison was overwhelmed and your defenses fell, you and your company were taken prisoner. Moments later, I presume, an Eagle Union soldier discovered the bodies of their allies piled up. Some of the locals gave testimony about the killings and confirmed it was an unlawful act of war," General Winters continued. "Some members of the company perished in the attack; many were taken to court for war crimes, and you were one of the few imprisoned in an Iris Orthodoxy prison. You were released days later, after the Sirens arrived. Then you were redeployed to the raid on Soissons Ridge and the siege of Saint-Michel-du-Val."
Yep, that's about it. I surrendered, got taken into custody, and days later, I was sent to prison. Captain Schmidt and the others were court-martialed after evidence of the war crimes came to light. I heard Captain Schmidt and the other radicals were executed by hanging. The soldiers who followed his orders were punished, though I don't know the specifics. While the rest of the soldiers defended themselves by saying, 'I was only following orders,' it wasn't accepted as a full defense for their actions. And me? I was imprisoned until the end of the war… fortunately, or unfortunately. Ironblood POWs like me were released days later after the mysterious alien threat appeared and wreaked havoc on cities and local communities, disrupting everything. We were returned to Point Adlerhorst, where I met Wilhelm and the others. Then we were redeployed to Iris territories to support the defense at Soissons Ridge, and then to Saint-Michel-du-Val. It was brutal, to say the least. I experienced a lot of urban warfare, with close-quarter combat happening in small spaces like the alleyways there. Those... things... were crawling on rooftops in the residential areas.
"…You survived all of that, despite throwing yourself into the hellfires of war. You even managed to get many men back to their families. And yet, you still say you don't deserve any recognition? That kind of thinking frustrates me, Fischer!"
"…I…apologize." I said my voice slightly weaker. I didn't have anything else to say in this kind of conversation.
He sighed and took a sip of his tea, unfazed. His eyes, however, remained sharp and cold. "Do you have any questions, Corporal?" Huh? What should I—oh, I forgot about Wilhelm. I should ask about him.
"…Well, where did Sergeant Koch go, sir? And what did he tell you about what happened at the fort?" I asked, trying to keep my tone steady.
"Sergeant Koch requested leave for a few hours to see his wife and children. He'll be back tomorrow. As I mentioned earlier, Sergeant Koch told me everything that happened—from start to finish—including details about the new type of Mirror Sea generator and that demonic being who calls herself Purifier."
As the general sipped his tea and grabbed a couple of biscuits, the mention of that name brought back the horrific memories. Memories of her tearing apart my comrades' bodies as if time itself had burned them into my mind. Body parts and fresh organs... scattered everywhere...
"Are you alright, Corporal Fischer? Do you need a glass of water?" Lydia's voice snapped me back to reality. I looked at her, her expression one of concern. She was holding some sort of black box.
"I—I'm fine… Danke," I managed my voice shaky.
"Are you sure, Corporal? You look a bit pale, and you're sweating quite a bit," the general said, his tone softening slightly, though he still held the document from earlier. I cleared my thoughts, quickly searching for another question.
"Its fine, sir, really… but I do have another question," I said, trying to avoid the topic. "Sir, it was winter when we were in the Ardennes, so why is it spring all of a sudden when I woke up in the hospital?"
"It's because of that 15-meter tower you and your sergeant destroyed. It was the cause of it. If you're wondering what that is—it's called the Mirror Sea generator. It's an enigmatic structure constructed by those things. So far, humanity has identified three types of these structures. One produces an abnormal fog that severely reduces visibility and sometimes cuts off our communication methods and electrical components. Another is capable of controlling the minds of our forces; the worst-case scenario would be if it controlled one of our tigers. Fortunately, no such incident has occurred... yet. The third generator type manipulates time itself, but only within a wide area around it. However, the Mirror Sea generator you encountered is a new type, capable of manipulating the effects of all three," General Winters explained, his tone measured as he placed the document on the glass table in front of me. "You and your platoon were transferred there in February, and the Sirens breached the region a few days later, according to Sergeant Koch. That means, Corporal, you time-skipped three months. The flow of time in that area was 90 times slower."
I blinked a few times, the general's words hitting me like a slap in the face. A machine capable of manipulating time? My mind raced to keep up with the revelation, but it felt like trying to grasp smoke.
So we were stuck in a time bubble, fighting for what seemed like days in hell, only to pass out and wake up three months later? The nurse said I'd only been unconscious for three weeks… Did she lie? No, there's no reason for her to lie to a patient. But why would the Sirens slow the flow of time in that area? What purpose does it serve? I had a feeling they were just toying with us, testing us like lab rats. I shrugged the thought off before it could damage my mental health any more than it already had. I should be grateful I survived that hellhole... but the downside is... I missed three whole months. My parents must've been worried sick.
Then there was the memory of Purifier, tearing my comrades apart as if they were nothing, blood and guts everywhere. The scene was so disgusting, nauseating, and revolting. What would've happened if Major Weber hadn't shown up? I would've been—
"Corporal!" General Winters' sharp voice snapped me out of my thoughts, startling me.
"Y-Yes, sir," I stammered.
"Do you have any other questions?"
I hesitated, unsure of what to ask. "No, sir, that'll be all," I replied, trying to regain my composure.
"Then we shall proce—" General Winters was interrupted by a commotion at the entrance to his office. I glanced to my right at the closed double doors. "What in god's name is happening over there?"
"Sir! The general is in a meeting!" I heard one of the guards outside say, trying to reason with someone.
"I know, and my son is the one he's having a meeting with," a deep, middle-aged male voice replied. Wait, I know that voice… is that Dad?!
"Look, it says here that I should see him in his office"
"Not until the general's meeting is over, sir," the guard replied, frustrated. "Stand down, or we'll have no choice but to restrain you here!"
Suddenly, the double doors burst open, and the room became suddenly louder. It really is Dad! He was being restrained by two guards, trying to force his way inside. Why was he wearing a military uniform? It didn't look like the standard issue. He was resisting, his expression filled with frustration.
He stood there, catching his breath for a moment. My father's hair was a steel gray, cut short and slicked back, with just a hint of silver catching the light. His face was lean, marked with lines that spoke of age, has piercing blue eyes. He wasn't overly muscular, but he still had a strong build. Wait…I just noticed he's wearing our uniform but its different? He's a veteran?! Why didn't he say anything about this? The military uniform he wore was slightly different from standard issue.
"Stop, Let him in and close the door," General Winters ordered loudly.
The guards immediately released my father, went back out and closed the door. My father glanced around before looking at winters, then at me. He walked forward and stood behind the couch where I was sitting.
"That's a Great War uniform; I take it that you're Heinrich Fischer, this boy's father?" General Winters remarked.
"Yes, sir," my father replied, placing a hand on my shoulder. "I... would like to have a word with him."
"I know, that's why I called you over." Winters reached into his pocket, pulled out a pocket watch, and glanced at it before turning to my father. "You were at the Meuse?"
"I was, sir, at the Hindenburg Line."
"Twice decorated, I see," Winters noted.
"Yes, sir," my father replied in a low tone, there was a hint of sadness in his voice.
I glanced at my father, and he motioned for me to follow him. I stood up and walked over to him.
"Corporal," I heard General Winters call out behind me. I turned to see him standing in the middle of the room with Lydia still holding the small black box. "Before you leave, I didn't call you here just for just to give you some encouragement… Corporal, step forward!"
I walked toward him. Lydia stepped beside Winters and opened the black box... revealing a medal.
"In recognition of your bravery and heroic service amidst the hellfires of war, I hereby award you the Knight's Cross of the Iron Cross," General Winters declared formally, smiling slightly. He took the medal from Lydia, pinned it to my chest, and shook my hand. "This is the highest honor that the Fatherland can bestow upon one of its soldiers, reserved for those who have displayed unwavering courage in the face of unimaginable adversity. Your actions have exemplified the very spirit of Ironblood."
This was my first medal! My efforts had finally been recognized. I couldn't stop smiling. Lydia and my father clapped their hands, congratulating me.
"Congratulations, Corporal. You have rendered great service to the Fatherland and its people," Winters finished.
"Danke, Herr General," I thanked him, still feeling a bit of happiness in me as the applause died down.
"There's still more to be done. This will be your final order from me and this country," Winters said, his tone shifting. He nodded to Lydia, who handed me a file. "This contains photographs taken by photographers on the ground and from reconnaissance planes in the Ardennes region after Operation Phoenix."
"You and Sergeant Koch, along with other soldiers, will be transferred to a base in the Azure Archipelago. Your skills as soldiers are needed there to replace the losses from previous battles and an... unfortunate incident involving some of our own Kansens. Report to the staging area tomorrow at 0500," Winters continued, his tone somber.
Wait, what? Did our own Kansens really just… No, that couldn't be. Maybe it was friendly fire? An accident? That had to be it… I wanted to question General Winters, but I...I think it's for my own good if I know less.
Why are we being transferred there? I kept track of the news before the attack at the fort… that place is a hotspot for Siren attacks. It probably holds some sort of strategic position, something they desperately want to control? I'll just find out once we arrived there.
Once again, I stopped thinking about it. This war had taught me one thing: "Do or die." So I've got to be careful. It only takes one shot to the head, and that's it—you're just another statistic on the record.
I opened the file and see a bunch of photos: the fort, or what was left of it… dead Sirens, dead humans, and one of those giant lobster-scorpion hybrids we'd fought in the Ardennes. General Winters said that once we arrive, Wilhelm and I are to head to the administration building at Point Azure for debriefing. These photos will provide Intel, and we'll need to explain each one properly when we get there.
I pulled one of the photos from the file. It showed a thick layer of clouds above the forest canopy. I asked the general for clarification, and he explained that it was an aerial view of the Ardennes forest, shrouded in fog. I pulled out another photo, this one showing the forest from the outside, surrounded by a cloud-like haze. Beyond the forest, it looked like springtime—clear and peaceful. I asked him again what it meant, and he explained that this was the external view of the forest, wrapped in the same fog. Winters added that infantry and armored support couldn't penetrate it. Those who tried simply disappeared. Some said they met a horrible fate, while others speculated about supernatural entities within the forest.
Crazy as it sounds; I couldn't rule it out, given the strange occurrences tied to these Sirens. So basically, the fog at the region's borders acts like some kind of impenetrable wall. Winters went on to say that reinforcements had set up base outside the fog-covered forest, hoping the fog would lift like a normal fog does. And it finally did, but in a very strange way—it literally disappeared in seconds. It was probably because of us destroying that mirror sea generator. The general advised us to head first to Point Azure's administration building at Nobuyuki's office."
"Alright, you two may leave now," Winters said, dismissing us.
I followed my father out of the room, closing the door behind us.
We stood outside the mansion near the large fountain at the entrance. My father and I watched soldiers march in formation, probably just doing their daily routine. We talked about mundane things—his six months at home with the others while I was away from my hometown at Augsburg.
"I didn't know you were a vet from the Great War. Does Mom know anything about this?" I asked.
"No, not until I put the uniform on again after receiving the general's letter," my father replied with a small, pained smile. "You should've seen her face; she was shocked and bombarded me with questions… some I'd rather not answer."
He paused, his voice heavy with emotion. "We answered the call of the Fatherland. We were just boys, Just as dumb as you, son. I lost a lot of my friends who had been like brothers to me, and a large portion of my humanity. If I hadn't met your mother after... I doubt you'll exist since I'm probably going to die like a dog"
"Dad…"
"And that's why your mum and I tried to stop you. You were so determined to prove yourself," he said, I noticed his voice filled with both sadness and anger. "And you fucking did, with that medal on you now. I don't know if I should be proud or angry in this situation. You're stuck in this godforsaken war, fighting aliens from who knows where…"
"I—I… Don't worry, Dad. You see me just fine, right?" I forced a strained smile, even though I knew it was a lie. Inside, I wasn't okay at all. "On the bright side, Dad, I've learned a lot of things. I learned how to drive a car, cook, fight, and administer first aid as a combat medic. I've beaten the odds, dodged death countless times! I've become the man you and Mom wanted me to be… I'm not a child anym—"
"YOU ARE MY CHILD!" My father snapped, cutting me off. "Don't get too cocky just because you've dodged death a few times. What if you fail one time? You'll be dead! The war has messed with your mind, made you blind to its consequences. Did those things skullfucked you so hard that you're thinking like this?! I don't want to bury my own child! You fucking hear me boy?"
He grabbed my shoulders and looked me square in the eye. "Listen, Oswald. War is a cruel mistress. It takes and takes until there's nothing left. I watched men, good men, go out full of life and come back empty. So don't you think you're untouchable."
A moment of silence passed, his grip on my shoulders tightening, before he pulled me into a hug. "Fuh, Ah… J-Just… please, b-be mindful of yourself and your surroundings," he whispered, his voice wavering. "Don't get me wrong. I'm so damn proud of what you've done for the Fatherland, but everyone in that fort you just came from… they're gone. And you and your sergeant? You survived. It's literally a fucking Miracle!"
"Heh… I couldn't believe it either, Dad," I replied, giving him a bitter smile as we pulled away.
"…Oswald!" His tone turned stern again as he gripped my shoulders. "You're being sent out to those islands tomorrow, right? I've heard things over there are… 'ahead of their time,' and that it's a hotspot for those creatures. When things look hopeless… just run, okay? If all seems lost, run."
"I'm a medic, Dad. My duty is to save the injured on the battlefield," I replied, meeting his gaze. "I've got the energy and the passion for it."
I noticed his expression falter, and he looked away, nodding quickly as if to hold back his tears. When he lifted his head, I saw a single tear escape before he hurriedly wiped it away.
"The money you've been sending us really helped Liesel and Greta's school tuition fees. They really miss you a lot, you know? And your mother—she's been sick every week from the worry that one day, some officer will show up at our door to tell us that you already kicked the bucket." He sighed deeply. "Every letter you send really eases her up, but when she saw the news of the news regarding what happened to the fort, she was devastated and assumed the worst but fortunately we were wrong when we received the general's invitation, telling us that our son is survived that whole ordeal."
"…How are Liesel and Greta doing in school?" I asked, trying to avoid an emotional rollercoaster "they're both smart and more matured than I was when I'm at their age…I'm assuming they're doing well without their big brother?"
"Oh, they're doing more than well," my father replied, his eyes lighting up a bit. "Liesel is top of her class. Every time she gets a certificate or a commendation, she makes sure to show it off to your mother and I. She says she wants to be a doctor like you, because of how you save people like some fairy tale hero on a story book she says." He chuckled, pride filling his voice. "As for Greta, she decided to pursue art as a career when she grows up. She paints the most beautiful things. Landscapes, animals and even us. You should see the one she did of you—she spent hours making sure your uniform looked just right. She said she wants to make sure you know she's proud of you."
We spent the next hour talking about everything and nothing, just the mundane things that seem so precious now.
It felt good, talking about these little things, almost as if nothing had changed and I was still just a kid listening to my dad's stories. We watched the soldiers march by, their boots thudding against the ground in perfect unison.
Suddenly, my father stopped mid-sentence and widened his eyes, as if he'd just remembered something important. He reached into his pocket, fishing around before pulling out a neatly folded letter. "...Here, open this when you arrive there," he said, handing it to me with a thoughtful expression.
I took the letter, inspecting it. "Your mother wrote it." he added.
I gave him a nod, carefully folding the letter twice before slipping it into my pocket. I'd open it tomorrow, or maybe another day. Why not now? I wasn't ready for whatever Mom had to say, not just yet... I already have a lot of shit on my mind, and I don't want to stack it with whatever is in this letter because it might tug my heartstrings hard.
For now, I wanted to hold onto this moment a little longer, the mundane, the laughter, the warmth of a family member's presence beside me until he leaves.
As I sat there, I let my father's words overwrite my mind, absorbing just enough to get by and push out any "unfortunate" thoughts that had been clinging like a goddamn leech. In this moment, I was both here and somewhere far away, drifting between the present and the ghosts of the battlefield.
Time had passed in a blur, slipping through my fingers faster than I could catch it. I remembered basic training like it was yesterday, those grueling days, the endless drills, the way I used to think I'd never survive it because I was a bit skinny at that time. Then came the long series of battles with Azur Lane, each one bleeding into the next. I'd barely had time to process it before I was I was pulled into the chaos with the Sirens in the Iris region, where they tore through everything, disrupting civilians' lives without a second thought. Killing them is the only way to deal with them.
And then the Ardennes at Fort Grunwald. I lost four squadmates who had become like brothers to me; they all suddenly fell like flies there. I only saw how two of them died…now that I think about it, I never did get Ernst, Johann, and Klaus's dog tags, did I? I hope the soldiers still in the region managed to recover their bodies and give them the burial they deserve.
And now, I'm heading to that group of islands in the northern Pacific. Heh, I wonder what waits for me there? Another battle, another chance for fate to roll its dice? I couldn't say. Part of me wants to believe it might turn out well, but the world doesn't work that way. It seems like they're sending us to a meat grinder rather than a place to rest.
Okay, I know this isn't the chapter you were expecting. Last time, I mentioned that the MC would arrive at Point Azure in Chapter 5, and I apologize for the change. Life's been really busy, and sometimes I struggle with motivation to write. But I'll try to upload the next chapter—which is already 15% complete—a bit faster than two months. It will be the Point Azure chapter, so stay tuned for the next one!
