Shackled to a Corpse (Youjo Senki/Saga of Tanya the Evil)

[DualWing]

Gods, Uncaring and Spiteful

Eastern Front, Rus Airspace
192X


"Get those Commonwealth Mages out of the way! We're almost done here!"

Yet another 'decisive battle' for the Empire, leading to yet another firefight with that pain in the neck of a Volunteer division. Just why did they want to support a nation that couldn't be bothered to provide even a subsistence existence to their subjects? Was the prospect of defeating the Germanian Empire so tantalizing a goal that any sacrifice was worthy, down to the last scrap of human decency? Why were humans so irrational?

For the thousandth time, Tanya von Degurechaff couldn't help but wonder, "How had it come to this?" The war had stretched on for years in a seemingly endless grind. Somewhere along the way, the struggle had taken on a Sisiphean quality; everytime final victory had seemed within their grasp, the Empire was assailed by some new enemy attacking from yet another direction.

Being X must be working overtime to mess up with her plans.

"Damned Devil! I'll kill you!" An all too familiar scream caught the Ace of Aces' attention, snapping her away from her thoughts and back into the present.

"She's back. Wonderful," Tanya muttered to herself before raising her voice into a imperious shout, "203rd! Continue the advance! I'll deal with this stray!"

Dodging the beam of golden death, Tanya snapped off a volley in return at the American girl. Without so much as a blink, the Germanian ace watched the crazed Mage take several rounds to the face without stopping. Her unnatural endurance had long since ceased to be a surprise as both parties had long since shown their cards. At this point, the berserker didn't even bother with the pretense of shields. She had learned months ago that normal enchanted rounds couldn't hurt her, not when she was vested in her unearned strength. Being X must have been proud the day he crafted this monster to be her bane.

The game was rigged. Tanya could dance and weave around the overpowered shots spewed by her nemesis for as long as she wanted. But there were only two realistic outcomes to this matchup, and both represented losses. Either she dodges till the lunatic gets lucky, or she could once again give in to the bastard who truly pulled the strings. If she wanted to live, much less complete the objective, her already paltry options narrowed down to a single choice.

The only way to counter that unfair advantage was to use one of her own. In Tanya's case, that advantage was the Type-95, the chain placed around her neck by the so-called god.

"Fine then. One more time."

Grasping her cursed orb tightly, Tanya forced herself to go through the old and hatefully familiar motions. Beginning with the Ancient and distasteful opening, "Oh Lord, in…"

A spike of fury interrupted Tanya's words as the world froze. An all too familiar voice boomed from somewhere seemingly behind her eyes, "NOT THIS TIME, OH FOOLISH LAMB. IF THOU SHALT NOT COME TO THE MOUNTAIN, THE MOUNTAIN SHALL COME TO YOU!"

Abruptly, time resumed, just as the golden casing of the accursed device began to grow unbearably hot. As the glass lense shattered, Tanya put every scrap of her will into her last coherent thought.

"Damn you, Being X!"



Space Beyond Mortal Comprehension
Time Beyond Mortal Understanding


Being X rubbed his temples, sighing in frustration.

Even after an entire lifetime of retrospection, that apostate mortal still refused to pray on her own volition. His patience, like His grace, might be infinite, but somehow the wayward soul had still managed to grate irritatingly upon it. Why was that soul so stubborn?

He had done everything He could! He had brought magic into a world reliant upon science! He had given the Mortal a disadvantageous body! He even gave her the war she was so sure would inspire faith!

Yet again and again, she refused to give Him the faith He deserved! The foolish mortals had even begun to revere her as a goddess! How blasphemous!

In His infinite wisdom, He could only see one reason for her continued defiance. In His bottomless mercy, He had made the trial too easy to fully teach the apostate the error of her ways. Yes, that was the flaw! She had yet to face enough adversity to truly bring out her faith. She was still enslaved to her overweening sense of pride, which gave her the mistaken confidence that she could find victory by her own hands! If it became obvious that no amount of ingenuity nor fortune would grant her the victory she so hungered for, she would have no choice but to ask Him for help!

Brimming with renewed surety, He strode towards the console and began to input divinely inspired solutions to errors the first iteration of the simulation had revealed.

The Empire that He had caused the Apostate to be born into was already far too strong. Against all of His expectations, it had lasted long against many foes, eternally in defiance to His divine plan. That could not stand. It had to be weakened! Cut it into smaller pieces!

Her first major victory had been equally in defiance of the fate He had seen fit for her. Dacia had proven incapable of fighting the Empire's superior technology, and had been utterly helpless in face of superior Imperial mobility and logistics. It needed to be industrialised by 1910!

Somehow, the Empire had proven itself equal to its double-headed sigil, holding its enemies at bay on two fronts at once since the beginning of the war. Again, His soft heart had led him into error. A third front to the south would be perfect.

Above all else, handing the Apostate a relic that easily had been a mistake. Despite it forcing her to pray, her unceasing and damnable defiance had endured. She had begun to simply mouth the words, without an iota of true faith within her. No more of that. Instead, the Apostate would be challenged and tried by the Blessed without end. Through her ordeals, she would learn once and for all the true importance of being faithful. Until the Apostate finds sincerity within herself, she shall never know peace! More Blessings upon the world, to show her the worth of prayer and to give her trials to last her all her days!

At long last, everything was in place. The entity known as "Being X" pushed the large red button upon his divine console, and with an eye-watering twist of time and space, the simulation unwound itself, ready for the next, more perfected, iteration.

Would the Apostate finally come to Him with faith upon both heart and tongue? Would she admit in word and deed that He was the One? In time, even her sinful pride would be humbled. The only question, Being X mused, would be whether or not He was still willing to extend her clemency when she finally begged for mercy.



St Gertrude Orphanage
Early 1914


"Waaaaaah!"

Where was that infernal wailing coming from? Why was there a baby on the battlefield?

In the inexplicable darkness, Tanya turned her head, trying to figure out where the crying was coming from. The minor effort was almost impossible, and her muscles burned and ached at the minor movement. Her sudden weakness was concerning, and she found it difficult to calm her increasing worry with the incessant sound piercing her ears. Worse yet, the sound had somehow moved with her. Every minor yet herculean adjustment of her head made the sound move slightly as well.

If only it wasn't so hard to open her eyes… Try as Tanya might, the lids stubbornly refused to budge. Another feeble attempt to move her head nearly cost her the rest of her energy. It was almost as if she had lost all of her strength in an instant; she couldn't even move her arms to prop herself up.

Icy panic washed over her as the sleepy confusions receded in the face of a waking nightmare. Why was she naked? Was she injured? Was that why she couldn't move or see? If she was injured, where was she? Had she fallen into enemy hands?

What was the last thing she remembered…?

Right. The Type-95 finally had finally blown, making good on threats and promises stretching back over years of all-too frequent use. That damned self-proclaimed deity must have tried to kill her. Unfortunately for him, his little bauble had proven just as half-baked as every other scheme he'd tried; she was still alive, if a bit the worse for wear. In fact, the alleged higher power had actually done her a favor – two, even! Not only was she finally free of the cursed Type-95, he had handed her the perfect excuse to stay far in the rear, away from any battlefield! And since she'd been wounded in the line of duty, a job would certainly be found for her, as would a pension!

She had fought in the war for nearly half a decade, seemingly never getting closer to the ever distant paradise that was a peaceful life. But in just a single mistaken action, Being X had given her everything that she could ever ask for, perhaps even more!

Were it not such a laborious effort, she would have laughed aloud at the absolute irony of the situation. With her throat drier than the deserts of the southern continent, mocking the entity would have only hurt her more. She would save her biting words for him when she finally got that cozy office of her own. But for now, she would content herself with quelling her parched tongue. With all of her might, Tanya called out to her ever loyal Adjutant.

"Waaaaaaaah!" The sound of wailing grew ever louder, burying any other sound and any hope for getting Visha's attention.

Enough with the crying! To think that her greatest obstacle preventing her from getting what she wanted away from the battlefield would be a needy child with an obnoxiously healthy pair of lungs.

Wanting to take a good look at her newfound nemesis, Tanya braced herself to break through the darkness. With the strength it took Atlas to bear the sky, Tanya forced her eyes open. Finally light filled her world.

The first thing she saw was the white. of a plaster ceiling, not the green of the field tent she was expecting. This wasn't a field hospital. No, looking at the cracks in the ceiling gave her a sense of Deja Vu… This was the Orphanage.

Tanya found her thoughts racing. Why was she back here? Did the General Staff return her to the custody of the Orphanage? Had they gotten rid of her? What about that rear line job? Was she not as valuable as she thought? Hadn't she proved her worth?

A melodious voice shattered her confusion as a blond nun came into view, "Coming! Coming! Amelie brought your food. Please stop crying… Oh Tanya! You've opened your eyes! Tres merveilleux!"

Who was this nun and why was she treating her like a child? As Amelie supported her head to help her eat, Tanya caught a glimpse of the final piece of the puzzle. The year printed upon a hanging calendar was 1914.

For a moment, there was nothing Tanya could think about. Then, from the core of her body, it finally clicked. She had become a powerless child again. Being X had undone everything. More than a decade of work, all her hard won victories. Gone!

In all her despair, she tried to curse at the devil, but all her body could do was let out more tears. Her searing words for Being X little more than incoherent babbling.

Sister Amelie picked her up, trying to console her, "Non, non, non. Good girls shouldn't cry so much!"

The world began to fade as Tanya's eyelids grew heavy, her brain unable to keep up with her much more mature consciousness.



Northern Front, Osterreich-Ungar
September 1917


Second Lieutenant Marcel Fortin was terrified. He shouldn't be here. He shouldn't have left the orphanage. He shouldn't have volunteered for the Ostero-Ungarian Military.

"Keleman! Keleman! How am I supposed to get any spotting done if you just keep lying down there? Get up and load the damn thing, damn it!" Marcel shook the body of the Artillery Loader, before noticing his pale blue uniform had been stained red and black by blood and gunpowder, "Dammit, you promised me we'll get out of this together!"

Joining up with the Army had been his last resort. There wasn't any other place that would pay someone with no identity. There wasn't supposed to be a war! The Kaiser was supposed to be smarter than that!

Every step he had taken since that first one out the orphanage door had been a mistake. But now, he would never make another. Not with his legs mangled.

Cursing fate as he removed the dog tag of his now deceased comrade, Marcel added it to the other five on the chain. All six of the Artillerymen he was spotting for were gone, bodies strewn about the trench.

Hugging his empty rifle and covering his ears, Marcel curled further into his shield. Without any ammo, he was going to die here. He was going to be one of the nameless corpses of the Ceskan trenches, nothing but a feast for the carrion-feeders when morning broke.

Marcel had never been one to believe in miracles, but if he was already in such dire straits, he had nothing left to lose, "Oh Lord! In your infinite grace, deliver me from danger, guide me from darkness and grant me salvation!"

As he spoke the last word, his vision began to give out.

---

"I don't want to die!" screamed the Mage, sitting up in a panic.

Looking around the green tent, Marcel saw many soldiers lain haphazardly on cots and tarps. Each one covered in burns, blood and bandages. He had been brought to a field hospital.

Grasping his chest, he calmed himself down. With his panic finally under control, he gathered his scattered thoughts.

He was alive. Was it all just a nightmare?

Looking down, he saw that it was not merely a figment of his imagination. There were only two bandaged stumps left, a clean amputation below the knees. So much for it just being a dream.

Still, he had survived. Perhaps God really did answer his prayers. Amongst his multitude of misfortunes was a silver lining. Thank The Lord he was going to get sent off the front. Begging on the streets was preferable to fighting this damned war.

Yet things did not turn out as he had hoped. His final hours of fitful sleep had been interrupted by a visitor, unfortunately not one he could afford to ignore. Before him stood a man with more silver and gold upon his uniform than any other. Lieutenant General Falkenberg, field marshal of the Northern Osterreich-Ungar Army Group. The most important man this side of the battlefield had personally come to visit him, one of the most useless.

Feigning respect for the commander who obviously didn't care about the lives of the men under him, Marcel asked, "To what do I owe the pleasure, General? What can this cripple do for you?"

"Cripple? Boy, you are a Hero! I've never seen anything like that before! A lone spotter mage single-handedly taking on a company of Germanian Mages and killing six of them! The Stuff of Legends! It's my honour to be personally handing you your medals!"

Marcel looked at the older man blankly. Hero? A dozen Germanian Mages? Single-handedly? There was no way. His gun was empty! He'd passed out from fear!

Looking worriedly at the gleaming medals, Marcel asked, "Perhaps you are mistaken?"

"Not a chance! There's no need to be humble," replied the General, giving a chuckle, "That company was terrorising our infantry. It was unfortunate to say, but I was at a loss. But before things could get any worse, you jumped right in! I watched you take them out! Who knows how many lives you've saved that night! Captain, you're an Ace now!"

This was becoming preposterous. Just what happened while he was passed out? The General must have made a mistake, there was no way he could have been the Mage they saw, "I'm not a Captain, Sir. I'm only a Second Lieutenant!"

"You were a Second Lieutenant. After that feat of yours it had you promoted to a more suitable rank. Honestly, it's a shame that you're only just a Captain. Though, who knows? Perhaps our glorious Kaiser may yet see fit to grant you peerage."

He felt a churning within his gut. He'd already made peace with his life off the battlefield. They were going to make a cripple continue fighting? For what? A chance at nobility?

Deathly pale, fear gripped at him, "I can't fight like this! I don't even have legs!"

The General responded to the retort with a hearty laugh, evidently thinking that the Mage's distress was a joke, "Dr von Brandt is already preparing a solution for your problem. Besides, you don't really need legs to fly, do you?"

He couldn't be a War Hero, he had none of the qualities. He was a coward with not an ounce of virtue. There was no way he took out six Germanian Mages, why were they so adamant he was the Mage they were looking for?

Almost choking on his words, Marcel asked, "So, I assume that I have further orders. What is expected of me?"

"Well Boy, you're now a Company Commander! Once you're done talking to Dr von Brandt, go pick out some Mages to fill your Company. I'm expecting great things from you!"

Captain Marcel Fortin was terrified. He shouldn't be here, and he certainly shouldn't be leading a Company.



Space Beyond Mortal Comprehension
Time Beyond Mortal Understanding


Being X was overjoyed, in accordance to His will, all the pieces had fallen into their perfect place. Each Blessed was a fruit hand picked by His Divine Insight, a collection of Faith and Potential worthy of His Grand Designs. All but one.

The Outlier had not been faithful, a singular sour fruit from a tree that had once before borne a great harvest of sweetness. The plant had shunned Him, and in turn The Lord withdrew His Blessed Waters. Without the Grace bestowed upon its roots, the Tree began to wither. And soon, it was uprooted by the Apostate. Tormented by its suffering, the plant cried out for forgiveness.

'Mercy is the One who sits upon the Throne of Heaven; The Lord will grant the foolish plant a second chance.'

With renewed Faith the Outlier once again took root, ready to strike down the Apostate in the name of The Lord.

But what truly mattered was His Chosen, His hand to affect the world. She was blameless in His eyes, her obedience perfect as a cut gem, her faithfulness innocent in its purity. Though He had no choice but to revert her to a state of infancy, by His guidance she would grow mighty once more; Destined to carry out His Divine Judgement upon the Apostate.

Such was the will of The Lord!



St Gertrude Orphanage
24th September 1917


Looking away from the tasteless goo that was supposed to pass for porridge, Tanya surveyed the packed room, looking at nuns corralling kids to sit down for their meals in overstuffed benches. The Orphanage was definitely more crowded this life than in the one before. A revelation that shouldn't have been too serious, if the orphanage didn't only take in war orphans. All this could only mean one thing, the Empire was already at war.

A war. With which nation? Did the Republic strike early? Perhaps it was the Rus communists? The Empire had their enemies, but surely none that would attack a whole decade early!

Not without the interference from that wretched Entity! Tanya threw out another curse to the heedless entity. Was the Devil trying to kill her before she could even pick up a gun? Maybe he'd finally gotten smarter. Too bad he was still up against her. She wasn't going to just give up and die. Tanya Degurechaff won't stop until she beats the principles of the free market into that thick skull of his.

Downing the last spoonful, Tanya got up from her seat and headed back to her shared room. All the while head deep within her plans on how she would approach the future.

She definitely needed to stop Brest from happening. If they didn't have to fight the Republicans in the desert, then fighting the communists would have been easier. How about the Battalion? If she wanted to have a place at the rear, she should get that plan out without volunteering herself. But could they really succeed if she wasn't leading them?

Just as she stepped through the doorway into her room, her train of thought was broken by someone covering her eyes with their hands.

"Tanya, can you guess who it is?" spoke the chipper voice behind her. It was obvious who, there was no one else that would play with her like this.

Humouring the nun, Tanya answered with a guess, "Sister Amelie?"

"Oh my! My little Tanya is so smart! In that case… Does she remember what day it is?"

What day? Probably somewhere in late September? There was nothing special… Unless?

"My… Birthday?"

"Haha, oui! You turn four today!" replied the nun, giving the birthday girl a kiss on the forehead, "Because it's such an important day, I got you something special!"

The nun laid out a chocolate cupcake before her, "It's nothing special, I know. But I couldn't let your birthday go uncelebrated."

Nothing special? That's chocolate right there! Wasn't there a war going on? The price of that sweet sweet treat must be astronomical! How did Sister Amelie get her hands on something like that? Wasn't the Orphanage tight on funds? How could she afford this indulgence? Why did she treat her so differently?

Amelie spoiled her, almost like an overindulgent mother. From letting her skip prayers and sneaking her additional food to getting her a room only shared by the two of them. Why didn't any of the other nuns stop her? Surely they wouldn't like anyone getting special treatment?

Once again sister Amelie interrupted her deep thoughts, this time by pushing a napkin into her face.

Why is Amelie trying to wipe her face? She hadn't even eaten the baked treat yet.

"Don't just scarf it down… You should enjoy the food more. Take your time to appreciate it."

Tanya turned to look at the plate only to find it was empty, looking down she saw that her pink attire was covered with dark brown crumbs. When did that happen?

Licking her lips to enjoy the final specks of the delicacy, Tanya couldn't help but wish she had another. No matter, if Sister Amelie keeps treating her so well, she'll get plenty more delicious treats in the future.

It's always good to appreciate whatever benefits she got. No sense in looking a gift horse in the mouth, she should enjoy what little time she had left, especially since she was going to leave in five years time.



Space Beyond Mortal Comprehension
Time Beyond Mortal Understanding


Being X wiped the sweat off His brow, He stood before His greatest fear. His superiors. Towering above Him were four of the thirteen Overseers. Somehow the usually sluggish bureaucracy had found out about His actions, now they were ready to judge Him for His minute overstep.

"Proclamation: Humanoid Administrator #25182358, you stand before the Divine Tribunal to answer for your crimes. You are accused of chronological manipulation of a world without authorisation by a deity of class A or above. Question: how do you plead?" boomed the ebon monolith that was the Machine Overseer, its singular red eye piercing into His Divine Form.

The Overseers believed themselves incapable of making mistakes and they had already decided He was guilty. It came to Him to be the bigger Deity and to accept their erroneous judgement, "I Plead Guilty! But it was just a mistake! The world was new and barely anything was affected!"

"Barely anything? BARELY? So you think because the effects were small, you shouldn't be punished?" howled the Magical Overseer, a maelstrom of Energy churning ever quicker.

Ever the peacemaker, Being X took the blame upon himself, "No! No! I just mean that the fact that it was not a serious offense should be taken into account when deciding my punishment!"

"Fair enough. Do you have any additional words you wish to add? We could lower the sentence if you clarify how the event occurred," responded the series of cubic constructs that constituted the Order Overseer.

It was nice to see at least one of his superiors had the sense to listen. But there was no way He was going to tell them it was to punish an Apostate. All of the Divine realm would mock Him till the end of infinity.

"I have nothing to say," He lied, giving a sideways glance at His direct superior, only to see the disappointment upon the Entity's face.

"Typical. Give him the maximum punishment!" roared the Magic Overseer, angered even further.

"Declaration: in accordance with the laws of The Divine Realm, the Accused is hereby sentenced to three Eternities of corrective training, with their Class lowered to E until completion."

Looking at his subordinate getting escorted away, the Humanoid Overseer sighed, "Always a disappointing sight. So, have all his worlds been transferred?"

"All but the last one. I don't have anyone with the right qualifications to handle the World that caused all the issues. Magic and Technology shouldn't mix like this."

"You do have one option. One of your subordinates just got his Magic certification. Let him handle it."

"He's only Class C! He can't handle a world with both Technology and Magic! Especially not one currently glitching!"

"If he's unconventional enough to take Magic as an elective while being an Order Deity, he might be just what we need to clean up this mess of a World. I say we go with that course of action."

"Decision: with three votes for, the order has been given. Recommendation: establish an observational period."

"Well Kysll, best of luck. You're going to need it."

---

"Clean up? Clean up! I take extra time to get my Magic Qualification and this is what happens? Are you fucking kidding me?"

Order deities existed to keep worlds from crumbling under the weight of their administrators, they had only one role, to clean up. The whole reason Kysll took up Magic was to get out of cleaning duty, but now he was the only one 'qualified' to deal with this world.

He could have been constructing an entirely new world himself, building magical societies! But now he was stuck playing Divine Janitor all the same.

Like the multitude of Order Deities that came before him, he repeated their ever-constant mantra, "Fucking Humanoid Gods always messing shit up."

Bracing himself for the sight of watching mortals tear apart each other with gruesome ease, he slumped into his seat and turned to look at the screen.

Sighing for the sixth time that minute, Kysll looked at the manifest, "A magical war, huh. What a way to get my first World. Time to clock in and clean up this mess, I guess."

---

So what do you guys think? I'm always up to hear your opinions and ideas.

It's fine if you wish to discuss older chapter in this thread, but you're always invited to do so in my discord server instead.

 

[DualWing]

A Congregation of Lost Souls

St Gertrude Orphanage
3rd October 1917


"Yawww-" The future Ace covered her mouth, stifling the yawn she had let out.

With the air cool with the onset of winter, the relative warmth of the bed had become somewhat of a siren call to Tanya's lethargic body. Having naturally low blood pressure was a curse.

If only Visha was around to make her borderline addictive coffee. Just one cup. That's all The Argent needed to kick-start her day.

Over her years of interactions with Sister Amelie, Tanya had since learnt that there were still a few things that the nun wouldn't give her. And it was an unfortunate fact that coffee was one such product.

'Oh dear, no. You'll never grow big and tall if you start drinking coffee so early,' the woman had brushed away her demand with a simple statement.

Of course, while there was absolutely no basis to that myth, Tanya didn't have the resources or ability to prove her wrong. As such, she was bound to a life of slowly crawling out of bed each morning.

A minute. Two minutes. Five. Ten! Finally, her body had enough power to eject herself from the comfort of the bed. Getting in her morning stretches to wake the rest of her body, Tanya made her way to the bathroom.

"Oh Tanya! Finally awake?" called out Sister Amelie as Tanya walked past.

With her attention caught, the girl looked into the storage room that the nun was sorting through. Surrounded by piles and piles of winter wear, Amelie was taking inventory for the orphanage's winter preparations.

It was that time of the year again. Hopefully this time she'll get something less old.

Folding a woollen coat, Amelie noticed her eyeing the clothes, "You don't have to worry about getting a coat this year. I think you're finally big enough to start using the ones I have stored. Let me finish up here and I'll see if they're still good."

"Thank you, Sister Amelie," with a nod, the to-be Argent continued her morning routine.

The Nun called out to the leaving blond girl, "You don't have to be so formal and call me Sister Amelie every time, you know."

---

Tanya shifted her sleeve upwards for the twentieth time this morning, trying not to stain the fabric with porridge.

The coat Sister Amelie had gotten her was obviously of high quality, but it had its fair share of problems. The sleeves were much too long, and it was much too large for someone of her modest stature.

Judging by what the other kids were wearing, it was perhaps the best in the entire orphanage. While quite old, it was still in immaculate condition, seemingly never worn.

Where exactly did Sister Amelie get it? Judging by the sizing, it would probably have been a better fit for a child around ten years of age. Perhaps it was meant for someone who never wore it?

While considering the situation, Tanya found herself pulling the brakes on her train of thought. She was in an orphanage with a lack of funding, perhaps dwelling on the details wasn't the best idea.

In the end all that truly mattered was that thanks to the Nun, she had a good coat that would last her for years. And for that Tanya was grateful.



Northern Front, Osterreich-Ungar
4th October 1917


"You can take your time with the adjustments, Doctor. There's no reason you need to rush this," suggested the Captain.

"You know I can't do that, Captain Fortin. We've already been testing the prosthesis for a week," replied Doctor Johann von Brandt, giving a smile out of pity, "Now get up, let's see if the final calibrations work."

Getting off the cot, Marcel began to walk round the medical tent, his new feet displacing the grass of the ground.

"It's probably as good as it'll ever be. Guess I'm indebted to Drachenhertz MagiTec for letting me walk again," he mused, looking at the two pieces of technology that would change his life, "Though to be honest, I would rather not have to go back out there to fight again."

"General von Falkenberg wouldn't have recommended you for the prosthesis tests if he didn't see something special in you. From what I understand, you're a phenomenal Mage."

"Yet I couldn't help but feel this was all just a bad joke when he told me I would be flying again after I had lost my legs. But here I am, walking on my own power again," laughed the Captain.

"I take it everything is working perfectly? No problems with synchronisation?" queried the Scientist, listening to every click of the machinery as Marcel moved and stretched.

"Feels pretty natural, like I've always had legs made of steel," replied the Mage, practising a few jumps and kicks, "Though, I thought you were an orb researcher, I didn't know you were working with Prosthetics too."

"Despite how they look, these are orbs. They were meant to be a side project for after the War: something to help Mages get back on their feet again, so to speak. These are the first prototypes, nothing as complex as those you need to fly, but they still run on Mana all the same," corrected von Brandt, tapping on the glass lense covering the core of the device, "since you'll be using them for the foreseeable future, could you do me a favour and test them for me?"

With a look of vehement admiration, Marcel replied, "Oh, my mistake! It'll be an honor to test these for you, you're doing a great service to the Nation. Any technology that will improve lives outside the war will be greatly appreciated by the public."

"I'll remember that compliment. So, should I start designing hands next?"

Sitting down to put on his boots, Marcel replied, "Sounds good. I'd really love to talk more about your inventions or even test other devices for you. But as you've said, I'm on a deadline, they expect me to build a company by the end of the week. The perks of being a hero, I suppose. They give you more work for every success."

"That they do. Good luck out there, Captain."

Making his way out of the green hospital tent, Marcel made his way to his room in the administrative office the Lieutenant General had generously provided him.

"At least there's no snow," he complained, shivering even under his thick long-sleeved uniform. The war was still in full swing even as winter came, a testament to how confident the Germanians were of their advantage.

Taking a seat at the desk, Marcel looked at the stack of documents General Falkenberg had his assistant deliver. A very short stack of documents. Just twenty-three. Twenty-three profiles for the to-be Company Commander to choose from. Twenty-three unwanted Mages, every last one shunned by every formation. And Marcel was expected to choose eleven.

How laughable to expect a top-tier Mage company to be formed from the scraps at the bottom of the barrel. Perhaps the administrative department was as understaffed as the rest of the military, if this was the best they could give him. This was why he didn't want to be treated like a hero, heroes were expected to accomplish impossible tasks.

Every single one of them either had a quirk in their personality, a tendency to disobey orders or a name he couldn't pronounce. An unfortunate symptom of a larger issue, no nation needed ten major languages. Half of these write ups were probably from the Mages being unable to understand their commanders. No wonder they were taking ten times the losses, they were more likely to end up attacking themselves than the Germanians!

Ruffling his hair in exasperation, he started leafing through the documents yet again, looking for anyone with high mana measurements. If they were all low quality soldiers, he might as well pick those that had the potential to be good Combat Mages. Hopefully he'd be able to form a strategy that fit them, even if he still didn't know how he himself managed to beat a dozen Combat Mages that night.

What he ended up with was a hodgepodge of Mages from all over, all walks of life, each with a different origin, a pair of Rus twins, a half-Legadonian and an Osterian Noblewoman amongst others. Stranger still was that most of them were volunteers. What kind of Mages were he bringing into his Company? Battle Maniacs? Psychopaths? Perhaps, like him, lost souls with no other choice?

Handing off the approved applications to the General's Adjutant, Marcel prayed yet again, this time for his future Company.

Then it was time for lunch. And for the first time, he could walk to the mess hall on his own. He had to be thankful for the little things, because the big things stressed him out.



St Gertrude Orphanage
4th October 1917


There are always people who would take from others the deem weaker than them. The smart ones work within the systems society has given them… while the stupid ones break the rules and use force.

"Give me the coat!" demanded the Bully, pulling at the sleeve of the treasured coat Tanya had donned.

With what little strength she could muster, Tanya pulled back with her free hand. To little avail, fighting back with her frail body did nothing to stop the theft.

"Sister Amelie gave it to me! It's mine, not yours! You can't take what isn't yours!" replied the struggling girl, trying to appeal to the brute's knowledge of societal rules.

"It doesn't even fit you! You don't need such a big coat! Go ask for something smaller!" continued the bully, evidently too dull to understand right from wrong.

This argument was going poorly, if she didn't do something soon, she'd be robbed of her rightful possession! One must use every available tool to their advantage, if they couldn't do it themselves, they should get assistance from someone who could. At the top of her lungs, she called for her protector, "Sister Amelie! Help me!"

Hearing the little girl cry for the assistance of a nun, he let go. Cutting his losses, the bully made his cowardly retreat.

"Coming! Coming! Oh my… Don't cry… Tell Amelie who did this," consoled Sister Amelie, hugging her tightly.

Crying? Oh, she was crying. As she clutched the torn sleeve, tears streamed down her face and stained the nun's habit. She was stressed, it's perfectly normal to lose control of her emotions.

This event wasn't going to make her any friends with the other children, but it wasn't as if making friends with them was going to improve her life anyways. All she needed while she was still stuck in this orphanage was Sister Amelie's favour. Never again was she going to let herself be so weak that others would take from her.



Northern Front, Osterreich-Ungar
7th October 1917


Three hours. That was how long it took General von Falkenberg to authorise Marcel's selection of Mages. Three days. That was how long it took for the company commander to locate his subordinates.

After countless trips around the entirety of the battlefront, Captain Fortin had finally located the last of them.

When he volunteered for the military, Marcel had no plans to be bailing anyone out of a military jail. But here he was, petitioning the release of four of his future subordinates at once. Four troublemakers that would have been executed long ago, if the Ostero-Ungarian army could stand to kill off their own Mages.

Walking into the dimly lit building, Marcel walked up to the administrative desk, handing over the documentation to the warden.

"Release forms for Yekaterina Morozva, Nikolai Morozov, Hugo Stenberg and Antonia Zamfir? Are you sure? You wouldn't rather find some other Mages?" asked Warden Schneider, seemingly worried for the Captain's lifespan.

With a sigh and a shrug, Marcel replied, "Well, they have the mana capacity to be good Mages, despite them being horrible soldiers. But it's not like I have much of a choice anyways. So what can you tell me about them?"

"Telling you the reason why they're here should be enough," Pointing towards the cells, at the pair of red-headed Rus expatriates, "Yekaterina over there set fire to every last one of her previous Commander's undergarments after a disagreement, and her twin brother Nikolai was the one that stole them in the first place."

His finger shifted towards the half-Legadonian giant, "Hugo here broke his bunkmate's jaw in a breakfast brawl." This time pointing at the smiling Dacian Lieutenant, "And Antonia? She was caught with every single type of contraband possible!"

The Captain looked towards the cells in disbelief, "Guess that's par for the course, let them out."

Picking up the keys, the Warden sighed, "It's your funeral. Don't say I didn't warn you."

With a dismissive wave, the Captain left the building, headed to where he had left the rest of his soldiers.

With the last of the eleven in tow, Marcel began to chat with them, "So, why did you do it, Lieutenant Morozova? Seems like an awful lot of trouble for a spot of mischief."

Without a spot of humility, the Rus woman replied, "When you're born as beautiful as me, sometimes people can't keep their hands to themselves. Platoon Commander Beruhren was just one of many."

"And the fire? Surely you could have done something other than to set his unmentionables on fire," queried the Captain, "Why not report his misconduct?"

"It was the first thing I did. But I'm a Rus commoner and he was an Osterian Noble. No one was going to take any action, " Yekaterina answered while rolling her eyes, before looking at her twin brother, "It was then we resorted to fire, because fire solves problems."

With a silent nod, Nikolai confirmed her statement.

"I see… Hopefully you don't hate all of the Nobility, I've already recruited a pretty haughty Heiress."

"If she becomes too much trouble, I'll just set her alight. I haven't met any problems that fire couldn't solve."

"Please don't, otherwise I'll never be able to justify letting you use a flamethrower," warned Marcel.

With a glimmer in her eyes, she replied excitedly, "Oh my, Captain. You certainly know how to win a woman's heart. I'd prefer if you'd just call me Katya."

"I take that as a sign the two of you are on board," he concluded, before turning to the giant, "Now, Lieutenant Stenberg, what about you? What was your disagreement with your former bunkmate about?"

"The bastard wouldn't let up about how uneducated I was after I mentioned my wish to get into an Engineering college," Hugo rumbled dismissively, "Eventually, I lost my temper."

Pondering those words, Captain Fortin asked, "Can I assume you joined the military to pay for your education?"

"That is correct, my family is too poor to pay for it. As the only son, I had to do my part in taking care of my three sisters."

"I see. Well, if we survive this war, I'll write you a recommendation for whatever course you wish. Maybe even get you a scholarship."

Eyes wide open, the half-Legadonian asked in disbelief, "Are you really? It would mean the world to me!"

"Well, I'll leverage this hero reputation of mine for you, as long as you listen to my orders."

"Oh, thank you! You have my promise!"

"No problem," Marcel replied, before turning to the final Mage, "Now, Lieutenant Zamfir… can you get me half a dozen of those American-made trench guns?"

With a smirk, the Dacian Mage replied, "You really do know how to win over people. Let me use the telegraph and I'll get anything for you."

---

8th October 1917


Coming up to his destination, Marcel gave the door a knock, "Captain Fortin reporting for a meeting with Lieutenant General von Falkenberg!"

"Come in!" answered the voice behind the door.

Bowing upon his entry, the Captain got a good look at the effort the General was putting in. Upon his table was a map covered with detail upon detail of logistics, manpower and even enemy positions, all woven with an intricate map of plots and tactics.

The General himself was engrossed in making a breakthrough that would counter the current Germanian advantage, going back and forth the map.

Marcel found himself filled with a newfound sense of respect. Maximilian von Falkenberg did care for the lives of his men, he was just held back by the inefficiency of the military… Something that Marcel himself could help with.

"General. Can I propose an experiment? If it goes well… we may actually push the Germanians back," suddested the Captain, filled with a surge of confidence.

"Go on. It can't hurt to have a few new ideas."

"What if we changed how we utilised our Mages? We have flame troops, a terror on the front lines… if they actually reach the enemy. Unfortunately, more often than not, they get shot before they get close. So, what if we used Mages instead?"

The General's eyes lit up as the idea took root, "Mages with flamethrowers? That's insane… and absolutely devastating! What other ideas do you have?"

"Well, what if each member of a Mage platoon used a different weapon? To cover each other's weaknesses. I've already taken the initiative to outfit a few members of my company with trench guns and others with hunting rifles."

After a thoughtful pause, Maximilian von Falkenberg spoke up, "Your ideas show promise. I'll give you the freedom to run this experiment of yours. Don't disappoint me."



St. Gertrude Orphanage
13th October 1917


Tanya restlessly tugged at the thread of her mended coat sleeve, her attention barely focused on the papers before her.

Having to pretend she was merely learning the Germanian language was mind-numbingly boring. This was one of the few things that she still had a clear grasp of. The only reason she was even acting out this charade was due to the fact that she didn't want to draw undue attention to herself by having a perfect understanding of the language immediately.

But it was what she didn't remember that worried her more. As she was going through her memories, Tanya discovered that she could barely envision being the Salaryman anymore. Was this one of Being X's plots? To erase her memories of being a Salaryman and declare himself the winner?

"Oh my, Tanya. Studious as always, what are you learning today?" It was sister Amelie again, checking up on Tanya the hundredth time this hour.

With the frequency of her visits, it almost felt like the nun was afraid that she would vanish into thin air.

With an unintentionally childish lisp, the future Ace replied, "Numbers, I can already count up to a Hundred!"

With her usual quirk of using Francois instead of Germanic, the nun replied, "Très merveilleux, uh, I mean very wonderful, dear. We seem to have a little genius on our hands!"

Being praised so often would lead to an overinflated ego, something that Tanya knew she couldn't afford to have. It wouldn't do for her to grow complacent so early in life. But she had to admit, it certainly felt good to be recognised, even if it was unearned, "I'm not that smart."

"And humble too!" The nun continued to coddle the little girl.

It was going to be a long day for Degurechaff.



Northern Front, Osterreich-Ungar
16th October 1917


Pacing atop a stack of crates, Captain Fortin faced his gathered eleven. Each had been personally kitted by him, their equipment customised to their various quirks.

Lined up in rows and columns, no two Mages were equipped the same. From the close ranged trench guns to the far-hitting hunting rifles, even an unconventional submachine gun and a terror-inducing heavy machine gun mingled in the mix. Even their secondary weapons had as much variation. Those with hunting daggers stood next to those with sabres, even a sidearm to the side in contrast to a shovel on the back.

Clearing his throat, he began his speech, "You are by far the worst soldiers I have ever had the displeasure of dealing with. Thankfully, I need Mages, not soldiers. Mages that can win us this war, Mages like you. So let's get out there and show those Germanians the worst of what our Empire has to offer!"

"Yes Sir!" they shouted in unison, united in their goal. The Captain had specifically chosen them for a reason, they were what he needed. If they followed him, he could offer them what they wanted, a direction for their lost souls, with more freedom than any other role would give. Who wouldn't take a deal like that?

"How agreeable! I hereby announce that from this day forth we are the Vulture Company! We'll strike where opportunity lies and feast on the Germanians! Tear into their flesh, Vultures!"

The Speech had come out perfect. Marcel could hardly believe that he was the one who said it. Where did that surge of confidence come from? Perhaps he didn't have to be afraid after all. They were willing to work with him, he should do his best for them too.

With a salute, the newly named company began the final preparations for their debut into the skies of Ceska. They were ready to show their Northern neighbours which Empire was better. Ready to show them how the worst Mages in Osterreich-Ungar fought.

For perhaps the first time, Captain Fortin wasn't terrified of returning to the front lines. After all, this band of misfits was going to be his family for the rest of this war. They had each other's backs.



Space Beyond Mortal Comprehension
Time Beyond Mortal Understanding


"Another problem off the list," mumbled Kysll to himself as he crossed out another issue.

The list of abnormalities that plagued the world seemed ever endless, formed from layers upon layers of problems stacked up into infinity. The Humanoid God that served as the administrator had failed to activate any of the safeguards before triggering the rollback. The cascade of issues that followed should have warned even the most negligent Deity that something was wrong.

The reincarnation cycle was a mess, the souls had not been put through the proper cleansing process before they were put back into their place. Even now the mortals would occasionally experience visions of the previous iteration.

Who knows what chaos could be caused by an invention being brought into existence decades too early. What ideas would begin to take hold years too early. Kysll knew he had to work faster. There was no time to rest.



Elenium Labs, Germanian Empire
4th November 1917


Adelheid von Schugel woke up in a cold sweat. He saw it: a revolutionary invention. He had been struck by divine inspiration.

Grasping at the closest sheet of paper, the scientist fanatically sketched out the device that had graced him. A beautiful twin-cored orb, one that looked like it was designed by the Hand of Divinity.

The tool that will ensure a Germanian Victory! He knew what was to be done, there was no time to rest.

---

So what do you guys think about this war before the Great War? I'm always up to hear your opinions and ideas.

It's fine if you wish to discuss older chapter in this thread, but you're always invited to do so in my discord server instead.

 

[DualWing]

Hoping for the End

St Gertrude Orphanage
16th January 1918


Tanya needed to know what Being X was planning for her. Playing by his rules was liable to get her killed.

The problem was that Being X's game made no sense. It had been four years since she'd been sent back into the past, yet the damned self-proclaimed Deity had not contacted her since his initial manipulation of time. If only she had a better grasp of the situation, all she knew was that the Germanian Empire was at war and that for some reason the Devil was trying to erase her memories of the past.

Looking back on her hazy memories of her previous life as Tanya Degurechaff, the girl found little of note. Her time in the orphanage hadn't gotten much tougher. In fact, in some places it had gotten even better, partly thanks to the blatant favouritism Sister Amelie showed. How laughable that it was a woman of the cloth of all people that was assisting her in her fight against Being X.

Pulling out her journal hidden at the back of her drawer, Tanya began jotting down the final fragments of her past actions upon the yellowed pages. With the last pieces recorded, her memories were bound to this book. A lifetime's worth of military strategies and important events written above fading lines, this journal would be a guiding light into an uncertain future when she finally loses the memories of her second life.

But before then, she would have to do her best to understand the changes that have occurred, a course of action that was unfortunately hindered by the aforementioned Nun's protective nature.

Sister Amelie might be treating Tanya nicely, but she was also a barrier between the to-be Ace and the outside world. In a bid to protect Tanya from the world, Amelie had taken up a rather isolationist stance; removing any pieces of media that pertained to the ongoing war.

It had been quite the hassle to sneak around the Nun's watchful vigilance in search of a newspaper, but her efforts finally paid off — in her hands was a report of how the war was progressing.

With apprehension, she began reading the words off the papers. Within was a very distressing report. Somehow, the indomitable Germanian Empire she had once served was at war with itself. Neither of the two Empires were the same as the one in her past life, not even the flags they flew.

The cause of the war was foolish, to say the least. A few months before the advent of the war, the heir-less Ostero-Ungarian Kiaser had passed on in illness, leaving his unmarried cousin, Karl I, as the inheritor of the aging Empire. Seeing an opportunity to claim territory from a weakened neighbour, the Germanian Empire demanded the twenty-four year old monarch cede the region of Ceska. Unfortunately, the young and prideful Kaiser rather prefered fighting a war than bending over backwards to the demands of the Germanians. Thus began a gruelling war for a piece of land neither side really cared about. Lives of the able-bodied were being thrown into the meat grinder just to defend the pride of their monarchs.

But the true cause of her worry was yet to come. At the start of the war against Osterreich-Ungar, Germania had held the superior position, slowly gaining ground against their southern foe. 'Germania was sure to win', echoed the public, 'just three months'. But at this point of time, five months later, they had lost every mile they had taken and were even being pushed back. No longer were the Germanian forces dominating.

Tanya cursed at her own powerlessness. Being X had created quite a predicament, a war right on her heels and she couldn't even fight to defend herself.

As she ruminated on the war, Tanya found her thoughts drifting to the members of her Battalion. While she had a few years left before she could even touch a rifle, many members of her Battalion were old enough to be serving in the military. Were they safe? Would she see them again?

Wait. Why was she worried about that? Was she attached to them? No… she was just worried about losing Mages with that much potential. If she were to train her 203rd again, it would be better to have those she knew she could train.

Yes, that was it, she needed all of them to defend her from the plans Being X laid out.



Southeastern Front, Germania
20th January 1918


Looking through his binoculars, the Officer Cadet scanned the Ostero-Ungarian trench line. Nothing but the white of snow, barring the pale blue of an enemy's cap peeking back over the lines.

Out of boredom, he let his attention be drawn to the billowing flag flying above enemy lines; a flash of black and yellow, a black dragon facing rightward. Turning his head, he found its counterpart; the same dragon on a field of red, its singular head turned leftwards.

This wasn't the first time the two countries had clashed. Like siblings, the two nations found it very hard to peacefully coexist. Just three decades ago, a very similar war had played out.

He turned back to look at the enemy once more, this time looking at the snow covered artillery. Despite the existence of artillery on both sides, there was no one manning them. Despite the fact that the two nations were at war, the situation over at the Southeastern border could almost be described as peaceful. The tension was high, but no blood had been spilled.

Peacefully observing their enemy was not what he was expecting when he volunteered to serve his nation after leaving his family home, but perhaps he was lucky neither side was foolish enough to wage war on the entirety of their shared border. He hadn't been fully trained to fight after all.

"Weiss, anything interesting out here?" asked Koenig, finally done with polishing his sword.

"No. It's the same as usual," answered Matheus Weiss, taking a seat in the trenches that he called home.

"Well, that means you have time to eat your rations. I've done my best to heat it up," responded Neumann, stoking the fire.

"What if they make a move?"

Stifling a laugh, Koenig answered, "Relax! The Russ are more likely to attack than the Ostero-Ungarians!"

Officer Cadet Weiss found himself hoping it was true. It would be nice if the war ended without a single drop of blood being spilled in this frigid landscape.



Southern Front, Germania
24th January 1918


"Get down! It's the Phantoms again!" shouted a soldier, before getting turned into a fine mist by a passing Mage.

Diving into the cold mud of the trenches, Infantryman Lehmann slowly crawled his way into cover, "Damn, damn, damn!"

Corporal Lehmann had seen quite enough destruction these past few days, enough to last the rest of his life. Yet each day, he was subjected to witnessing more horrors of war. This was the third time the Phantoms have raided their supplies just this month and the second time they've pushed the Germanian line back since their appearance.

From above came the voice of a woman, "Any brave Germanian men want to take this lonely lady out for a walk? Why don't you show me your handsome face?"

Catching a glimpse of red under her helmet, Lehmann froze in place. It was her, the Flame Witch. Named not by the Mages, but by the Infantry. Armed with a flamethrower, she was not a threat to Mages, but to the Infantry, she was the embodiment of an uncontrollable wildfire, a blaze that would burn flesh from bone. Laying prone, the Corporal played dead, hoping the Mage would ignore him.

A shot rang out. Followed by more. Shortly followed by the telltale sound of bullets getting deflected off a shield. Then the all too memorable sound of a flamethrower and the ghastly smell of burnt flesh.

"Look at all the tough men that have come to play! Oh dear me, how could I possibly satisfy you all?" cackled the crazed redhead from behind her gasmask.

Closing his eyes and covering his ears, the Infanteer prayed for her to get bored and leave.

After what felt like hours, he got up to look around. She was gone, and so was the rest of her company. But they left an unforgettable souvenir, all around lay destroyed artillery and vehicles, slaughtered men and Mages littered the ground. It had taken them only ten minutes to wreak so much havoc.

When the Phantoms had originally appeared, Command deemed them merely a minor threat. Simply a well trained Company led by a named Mage, nothing more. Even with the leadership of the Wraith, what could a single Company do to the proud Battalions of Germania?

Oh how wrong they were. That single Company slowly but surely chewed through the countless Mages sent after them. The first month alone saw two Battalions decimated and the naming of another of their ghastly crew. The Banshee they called her.

There was little the current Germanian doctrine could do against them. The Phantoms' unconventional tactics gave them the capacity to threaten almost every enemy they encountered. From Trench guns that tore through the shields of Mages and Snipers that slaughtered chains of command to Flamethrowers that incinerated the Infantry and even Machine guns that filled the sky with lead.

Like ravenous piranhas, they would strike at the weakest links of the Germanian troops. Should they face a superior foe, they would hunt down the stragglers before making their exit by quite literally turning invisible. Whoever came up with their doctrine must be a Genius at modern warfare. The appearance of the Phantoms on the battlefield was an ill omen for every Germanian soldier.

As the constant harassment went on, the losses slowly added up, with decimated Battalions forced to combine. Erik Lehmann was starting to feel that maybe Strategic Command wasn't using their Mages very effectively.

The only solace for the Germanian troops was that the Phantoms were not truly deathless spirits, but simply a well-oiled team. They could be injured and they could be killed. In fact, they even suffered from a casualty recently. From what he heard of the rumours, there were only eleven of them this time.

Drying off his muddied uniform, Lehmann looked to the sky and the injured Germanian Mages that filled it. It was times like these that he was glad his magic was so poor he couldn't even fly. Hopefully one side would sue for peace soon, there wasn't any sense wasting more lives in this pointless war.



St Gertrude Orphanage
27th January 1918


Peeking out of the room, Tanya scanned the corridors for movement. Silence. All the kids and nuns were at their morning prayers.

With light steps, she made her way to where the nuns would usually rest. Pushing the heavy oak door out of the way, Tanya's eyes surveyed the room in search of any newspapers carelessly left in the open or perhaps some other form of information. Moving towards the stack of papers that caught her eye, she started sifting through the multitude of unsorted mail. There it was, a newspaper.

Looking at the headlines of the front page only brought more dread, the icy fingers of fear slowly creeping up her spine. There wasn't a single mention of the war, not its progress, not the losses; there were only adverts calling for the public to buy war bonds.

'Buy war bonds! End the Menace of the Phantoms!' said one, the red letters practically jumping off the page.

'Your bonds may buy the bullet that kills the Wraith!' declared another.

Phantoms? Wraith? Why were the propaganda posters so focused on these words? Without enough information, those words held little meaning to her. But based on the facts before Tanya, they can only be inferred to be an Ostero-Ungarian threat.

Perhaps a particularly dangerous group of Mages? Mages were a field of combat that would play a massive part in the coming years, after all. Perhaps the future-ace really had no choice but to train a battalion personally.

No matter. She'd get her peaceful life one way or another. Even if she has to pry it out of Being X's cold dead hands.



Northern Front, Österreich-Ungar
28th January 1918


'A strategic genius'. Oh how Captain Fortin wished that were true. For every idea he had suggested to General von Falkenberg, thirty more never left his table. He had built his fame up like a castle of cards, one mistake would be all it took to bring it crashing down.

Were he a better commander, perhaps he'd be able to control his company better. The Vultures were an unruly lot that adhered to no true strategy. Their success boiled down to their hit and run strategy. Their horrible conduct out of battle was only being tolerated due to their prestige as Elite Mages.

Yet they were not truly as strong as the rumours claimed. Slowly but surely, they were being worn down. Permanently losing a Member was a blow that couldn't be ignored, yet also something Marcel didn't have time to cry about. The mourning would have to wait until after the War. Perhaps the hardest part was writing to Mr. and Mrs. Fritsch, explaining to them why their son was coming home in a box.

Then there was the matter of Sergeant Fritsch's replacement. While there was little sense flying under full strength, he no longer had the time to retrain one of the outliers. His only choice would be to poach someone who was already well trained, a benefit General von Falkenberg had granted him in good faith. It was nice having a superior that trusted him, but it did give Marcel quite a headache: he couldn't stand to fail now.

With a sigh, Captain Fortin put on his coat and ventured out of his warm office, ready to brave the chill in search of his latest acquisition. As he opened the door, he was assailed by the wrath of winter, first a gust of wind, then the worrisome white of snow. Just great.

As Marcel walked past the ammunition stores, a flash of crimson caught his attention. Going close to investigating, he found Katya leaning on the wall, cigarette in hand.

Bringing her hands close to the unlit cigarette, she cast her favourite spell. An orange flame formed above her index finger, lighting the stick… Before a gloved hand mercilessly crushed the cigarette, snuffing out the flame.

"Katya. I know the privilege to smoke is very important to you. But this is the Ammunition store. I'd rather not have to answer to anyone about it blowing up sky high," sighed the exasperated Captain.

"The Ammo store? Oh. So it is! Thanks, handsome! Heh, heh, heh," giggled the Lieutenant, looking at her superior with unfocused eyes.

"Fucks sake. You've been using enhancement spells out of combat again, haven't you? They're not good for you."

"But it helps with the pain. Heh. I need them. Heh," she answered with a pained laugh.

Out of options to keep her in check, Marcel sighed and gave his order, "Dammit. Fuck. OK. You're my Adjutant now. You are not allowed to leave my sight. Do you understand?"

Upon receiving her new role, a smile crept up on Katya's face. A proper smile, "I do!"

"That's good. You'll be the one to tell Nikolai why he lost his role."

---

Sergeant Schicklgruber looked at the photograph and clicked his tongue. Not good enough. The colours weren't right! The camera he bought off that Dacian Mage just couldn't cut it. How could he bring the scene to life with his paintings if he couldn't capture the true brilliance of the scenery?

"Are you Sergeant Schicklgruber?" interrupted a voice from behind him.

"Yes, but who are you?" he answered, turning around in annoyance. The biting words he had prepared fading into nothingness as he recognised the pair of Mages, "Oh. You're…"

The blonde Mage stepped forward to introduce himself, "Captain Fortin, Commander of the Vultures."

"Look at all the pretty colours!" chimed in the redhead Mage, staring intently at an unfinished painting.

"Uh, right. So Schicklgruber, it seems like you really like painting… you have a good pair of eyes and a steady hand."

"I wouldn't go that far…" smiled the Sergeant, "But why are you here?"

"Well, you've made a name for yourself, you're an Ace despite being a conscript! And perhaps you've heard about the vacancy?"

Schicklgruber couldn't believe his ears. "You don't mean?"

"Congratulations, Sergeant! You're being recruited!" giggled Katya.



Space Beyond Mortal Comprehension
Time Beyond Mortal Understanding


"Come on, come on! Load faster dammit!" bemoaned Kysll as he impatiently tapped on the console.

Finally, the loading bar crept to completion. The latest patch was up. From this point forward, the system should be stable again, the humans should no longer have access to their past lives. Though there was little he could do about the information that had already leaked through, those were now very much out of his control.

He had done his best, but he was still too slow. The only thing he could wish for was that his efforts were enough.

The Deity looked back to the simulation. He had no way of knowing what other issues this world was facing and had to observe it further. The best he could do was answer their prayers.



St Gertrude Orphanage
1st February 1918


Hiding in the corner of her room, Tanya looked at the words inscribed upon the Journal before her. Her memories were no longer fading, but perhaps that was because she no longer had any left to lose. Everything had either been written down, or lost to the past.

Tracing her hands over the words, she felt a wave of melancholy. The words had been written by her hand, yet why did they feel so alien? Tanya knew she had written them down, but she no longer had any grasp of the intent behind the words.

As she read the book, she found herself lacking. Much of the knowledge was locked out of her reach, and she couldn't comprehend the multitude of strategies that had been listed. Strategies that she would need when she joined the Military.

The records she had left of the Great War were incredible, even unbelievable to an extent. Tides that turned due to the actions of a single individual: Her, Tanya Degurechaff. Yet there were also dark and distressing moments, there will be horrible things that she will have to do in her fight for a peaceful life.

Putting her head down on the table, Tanya began to curse at Being X. Why did she have to deal with such an unreasonable Entity? What good could come from being this stubborn? He had all this power and instead of improving the world, he used it to make her life more difficult.

"Tanya, where are you? I have something for you!" called out Sister Amelie, back from the grocers.

With practiced swiftness, Tanya placed the journal back into its hiding spot before leaving for the kitchen.

"Do you need any help, si- Amelie?" she asked, looking at the groceries.

"Oh no, it's fine. I can deal with this myself. I bought some Kartoffelpuffer for the kids, why don't you have some?" replied the Nun, giving Tanya a single piece while breaking the others into much smaller chunks, "Go enjoy it in our room, you don't want to have to share, do you?"

Tanya couldn't help but wonder how Amelie could afford to treat her so well, or why the other nuns would try to change the subject whenever she asked. Just what was Amelie hiding?



Northern Front, Osterreich-Ungar
2nd February 1918


Sergeant Schicklgruber looked at the exterior of the building. The coat of paint had all but fallen off, while the windows were covered in dust. This rundown building was where the best of Osterreich-Ungar's Mages trained? Unbelievable. To think their heroes were treated so poorly.

As he approached the entrance, he heard a voice speak up, "I hear footsteps! He's here! Everyone stand up straight!"

Giving the door a knock, the Sergeant made his way into the building. The interior wasn't as poorly maintained as the exterior, the floors were swept and there were even working lights!

"Glad you could make it, Schicklgruber. Welcome to the Vulture's nest. Not what you expected, I bet!" greeted Captain Fortin.

"It's definitely different from how I expected the most prestigious company to be treated, that's for sure. Though, I imagine many Mages would still take the opportunity to join you. I know it hasn't changed my mind," replied the aspirant.

"Is that right? Welcome aboard, then. Now, let's introduce you to the rest of the Company, Vulture 07," said the Officer, gesturing to the other Mages in the room. "In order of decreasing importance, starting with me, Vulture 01, Captain Marcel Fortin. Nickname, The Bastion."

"I'm pretty sure I was the most important, I have more confirmed kills than you, Captain," interrupted a haughty Osterian woman, putting down her nail file to show off her Steyr Submachine Gun, "Vulture 04, First Lieutenant Petra von Stahl. Nickname, The Red Baroness."

"More like the Red Heiress! You're only the daughter of a Baron," mocked an Ungarian woman, "Vulture 02, First Lieutenant Pék Katalin."

"How dare you! You're just a baker's daughter! I am the inheritor of-"

"Vulture 03, First Lieutenant Felix Becker, nice to meet you. I am a baker's son, if you're wondering," interrupted a blond Flame Mage, "I'm your future wingman, please take care of me!"

"Vulture 05, First Lieutenant Katya Morozova, Adjutant to the Commander," introduced the Redheaded Rus woman from before, her dull greeting a far cry from their energy-filled first meeting.

"Vulture 09, First Lieutenant Nikolai Morozov," continued her twin brother, "Former Adjutant to the Commander."

"Vulture 08, Second Lieutenant Hugo Stenberg," rumbled the half-Legadonian giant, eyes trained on his book on the mechanics of engineering.

"Vulture 06, Second Lieutenant Antonia Zamfir. So, how's the camera working?" asked the Dacian, "I hope you like it cause I don't do refunds."

"That's all of us for now. The rest are currently recovering from their injuries, we've had to replace them with Mages from the 87th temporarily," declared the Captain. "So introduce yourself, who are you?"

"Vulture 07, Sergeant Adolphus Schicklgruber! Formerly a student of Academy of Fine Arts, now a Vulture! A privilege to be working with all of you!"

"A great introduction!" commented Marcel, before handing Adolphus a hunting rifle, "This is our gift to you, let's put those sharp eyes and steady hands of yours to work."

Inspecting the gun, the Sergeant found himself pleasantly surprised, "This is a M1915! Not even the Nobles have these!"

"We had to pull some strings to get this. So make us proud," continued the Captain, looking towards Petra and Antonia, "Now, before we fly, I have one last thing to do. Vultures, gather!"

As the Company surrounded their Commander, he began to pray, "Oh Lord who art in Heaven, bless us with your protection so that we may bring an end to this war!"

Suddenly a Gilded shield surrounded each of the dozen Mages, almost like a Miracle. Adolphus Schicklgruber couldn't help but think, 'Maybe God was on their Side!'



Elenium Labs, Germania
4th February 1918


Looking at the Rus-born Mage, Adelheid von Schugel felt a sense of confidence filling him. She was the perfect subject, a Mage that wasn't bound by the Formulas, flexible enough to test his latest creation.

Dr von Schugel spoke into the transmitter, "Begin your flight test, Warrant Officer Serebryakova."

The young officer cadet began to rise, prototype orb in hand. Speeding upwards, faster than any Mage before, beyond what had once been regarded as the ceiling for Mages.

The assistant monitoring the measurements read out the peak values, "300mph and 8000 feet." The orb had broken both the speed and height records, with barely any load on the girl.

The mad scientist laughed as the readings stabilised, a glorious success! The Type-51 Dual-Cored Orb was complete! The dreams hadn't led him astray. He was never religious, but those dreams could only have been described as a divine blessing. With that, he had become a believer.

God was on their side!

---

The war is changing! What else could? I'm always up to hear your opinions and ideas.

It's fine if you wish to discuss older chapter in this thread, but you're always invited to do so in my discord server instead.

 

[DualWing]

The Decline of Violence

The Skies of Ceska, Osterreich-Ungar
23rd March 1918


"That bastard's shield just took a shot from me! How the hell? It's not just me right? Those Germanians are tougher than before!" Adolphus cursed at the ineffectiveness of his shots.

"They're definitely faster too! We need to get out of here!" shouted Felix, firing at the Mages that were encroaching on his wingman.

"Marksmen! Take down their sniper Mages!" ordered their Commander with a shout.

This wasn't how it was supposed to go. The Vultures were supposed to go in and wreak havoc as usual. But this time, their foe was not as easily defeated. It had become much harder to dispatch the enemy Mages and now reinforcements had come. They were outnumbered and outclassed.

With unnatural calmness, Captain Fortin gave his order, "All of you, cloak and disperse! I'll cover your exit!"

"Sir! No! Retreat with us!" echoed both of the Rus twins.

Waving their worries away, Marcel smiled, "I'll be fine! My shield's taken hundreds of shots from those bastards! There's nothing they can do to hurt me! Go! Get to safety, I'll be right behind!"

"Come back safely!" saluted Felix, before he faded into the gloomy grey skies like the rest of the company.

Whatever happened to the coward in that Ceskan trench? This war had changed him for the better, he wasn't afraid anymore. Perhaps he was a little too brave this time, ordering his men to retreat while preparing for a final stand? It was almost preposterous, but he couldn't doom them to die with him.

"Die? Who said you could die? You're Marcel fucking Fortin. You're going to survive and crush those Mages. Go out there and fight for what fate forgot to give you!" A surge of confidence filled him, strength from within. He wasn't going to die, he had too much left to do!

Slinging his rifle, the Captain drew his sabre. It would be much more dangerous than just using his gun, but it would draw the attention of those Germanians and keep them off his Company.

Searching for the enemy commander, Marcel dove forwards.

---

Warrant Officer Serebryakova couldn't believe her eyes. Instead of retreating with the rest of the Phantoms, the Wraith charged straight into her Battalion.

Like a bolt of lightning the monstrous Ace jumped from Mage to Mage striking them dead with a slash of his blade. In a blink of an eye, her Battalion commander was bisected right before her eyes.

For the second time in her life, Viktoriya Ivanova Serebryakova felt the fear of death grip her. Yet… her body reacted all on its own. As if on instinct, she unslung her shovel and swung it with all her might at the Ostero-Ungarian Ace of Aces.

Viktoriya watched as her swing tore through the Wraith's golden shield and shattered his sabre.

"Merde! Where did you come from?" exclaimed the Mage, before a flash of light blinded her.

In that instance of blindness, she felt an impact strike her in the torso as her trusty shovel was ripped out of her hands. When she righted herself, the Mage was gone.

The Warrant Officer winced as she felt the pain swell up. Breathing a sigh of relief, she put her hand on her battered body. She may be injured, but she had survived a run in with the Wraith. She was lucky that the field test for the Type-51 had gone as well as it did.

---

A million thoughts raced through Marcel's mind as he disengaged the enemy. Blood. There was blood on his face. It hurt to move his left eye. He couldn't see.

Whatever that flash of light was, it had saved him, it had given him the opening to escape with his life.

But now that things had calmed down, the world was starting to go dark, he was losing focus. His injury was finally getting to him. He needed to get to safety.



Southern Front, Germania
25th March 1918


Viktoriya winced in pain as the medic changed her bandages. In that short engagement, the Wraith had given her a few broken ribs and stolen her shovel. With her injury, she wouldn't be able to fly for quite a while, he really was as barbaric as they claimed.

Lying down on the medical cot, she looked back at how she got here. The call for enlistment had called out to her, pulling her in like the beckoning of someone close to her heart. She had volunteered without a second thought after she saw the propaganda poster.

But it finally struck her just how ridiculous this entire situation was. She was only twelve! She only looked like she was older! Furthermore, it was only due to the fact that there was no minimum age requirement for Mages that she was accepted into the course.

With virtually no training, she had been sent to aid Dr Adelheid von Schugel in his Orb tests. It was as safe a role as she could get. Yet the moment the tests concluded, she had requested a transfer straight to the front.

Why? Just what was she thinking? Why was she so eager to fight back then? Why was she so comfortable on the battlefield?

Despite having been a hair's breadth away from being eviscerated by that monstrous Ace of Aces, she wasn't in shock. Even while grown men twice her age were puking their guts out at the thought of being killed by the Wraith, she felt absolutely fine. Almost like she was already conditioned for it.

Gripping the Type-51 tighter, a twinge of sadness bubbled to the surface of her emotional sea. She was lonely. Despite having won the respect of her peers for her attack on the Wraith, she felt an emptiness in her heart. She was missing something… Someone? More than one person? Somehow, she yearned to be in the company of people she never knew.

Grasping her new medal tightly, she began to doze off, her dreams filled with battles that never happened, and celebrations with people she never met.



Northern Front, Osterreich-Ungar
24th March 1918


Marcel woke up to the sound of voices breaching into his unconscious mind. In response, he sat up and shook his head. Why was he so groggy? What happened?

Marcel's gathering of thoughts was interrupted by an excited Katya as she got up from her seat to his right, "The Captain's Awake! Guys, get over here!"

One by one, his subordinates surrounded his cot, a look of relief filled their faces.

"You call yourself a commander? How dare you make a Noble lady wait on you!" berated Petra as she handed him a cup of water.

Receiving the cup while rolling his eyes at the reminder of her nobility, Marcel replied, "My apologies, fair lady. I am but a bastard who knew not his own father. Perhaps I would learn some manners if I was bestowed with a noble title."

"A noble title? Someone's aiming high… Perhaps you'll finally be on my level," laughed the Heiress.

"I didn't know you wanted to be a noble," replied Felix, taking a seat.

"I have no wish to end up on the streets after the war. I'd like to think that I deserve some kind of reward for my service. In fact, all of you should be aiming to get as many achievements as possible. This war isn't going to last forever, you need to secure your future," replied the Captain, taking a sip of water.

It was a relief that the rest of his Company was safe. He had managed to keep them all safe at the cost of just his left eye and his sabre.

Hugo cleared his throat, "I don't want to interrupt such a happy occasion, but you need to see this, Captain."

As Hugo held his hand out, Marcel got a good look at the object in question. It was an ornately designed Orb, a brass casing decorated with a pair of wings.

"I managed to take it off one of the enemy Mages before we pulled back," Hugo explained, "I believe this explains why we were having such a bad time."

In the single moment the Orb touched his hand, Marcel felt a spark. It felt like someone took off a limit he never knew he had. This Orb had two cores, more powerful than anything he had ever seen. The Germanians had the technological advantage.

"Call General von Falkenberg, I have a report to make! I'll send a telegram to Dr von Brandt. We need to deal with this fast!" Marcel tried to stand, but fell to the ground as his legs failed to support him.

Katya ran over to help him up, "Captain! Are you alright?"

Looking down at his prosthesis, Marcel finally understood the situation. The lenses of his prosthetic legs were shattered, revealing the burnt circuitry within. Without functioning cores, his steel legs were dead weight. Captain Fortin was grounded.



St Gertrude Orphanage
29th March 1918


Unable to believe her eyes, Tanya read the newspaper again.

In massive black letters upon the front page, the headlines read, 'The Phantoms routed! The Wraith is gone!'

In relief, she slumped into her chair. The so-called 'Phantoms' had been defeated. With them gone, the Germanian Empire had the advantage again.

With their hero out of the picture and their best Mages outclassed, perhaps the Ostero-Ungarians would surrender soon.

One could only hope.



Skies of Ceska, Osterreich-Ungar
1st April 1918


"Vulture 8, cover Vulture 2 and Vulture 5 while they attack the Infantry. Keep those Bastards off them!" ordered First Lieutenant von Stahl, having taken up the role of the Commander in Captain Fortin's absence.

"Roger that Vulture 4!" replied Hugo, moving to engage a platoon of Germanian Mages.

"Vulture 4! Vulture 3 has spotted a supply convoy. Requesting additional support to attack it," informed Nikolai, manning the radio set.

"Vultures 10 and 12 advance and attack the convoy!" ordered the acting Commander, as she prepared to engage another platoon of enemy Mages.

"Vulture 4! Enemy Mage Battalion spotted! We need to pull back!" notified Nikolai.

What a pain.

Cursing at the turn of events Petra ordered, "Vultures, delay the enemy until the convoy is destroyed! We cannot let them bring more supplies to the front lines!"

Even with all of their combined efforts, they were still being pushed back. The gap between them and the Germanians was a chasm that was just too deep to cross.

Yet the Vultures did not falter. They fought on, showing the Germanians that they were still a threat to the unwary. Even in the darkest of times, her comrades fought on.

And so too would she. With her submachine gun, she showed the Germanians just how much death money could buy. Ever so often, her bullets would pierce the hardy shields of her enemies.

Finally, Nikolai announced the good news, "Vultures! Convoy eliminated! Cloak and pull back!"

What a shame. Looks like she'd have to end her reign of terror after all.

With a spell, the Red Baroness disappeared with the rest of her Company.



Northern Front, Osterreich-Ungar
5th April 1918


"Captain Fortin, please stop fidgeting with your eyepatch. It's very distracting," chided Johann von Brandt, before turning his attention back to the prosthetic limb.

Gingerly putting his eyepatch back in place, Marcel replied guiltily, "I'm just not used to having only one working eye."

"Maybe one day in the future I can make something that can fix that. But I have more important projects right now," mumbled the scientist, still working on the prosthetics.

"I understand. Having to create a whole new Orb from scratch in such a short deadline is quite the tall order."

"It is… Alright, I think I'm done with your legs. Why don't you try them on?" responded Dr von Brandt, handing the prosthetics back.

Clicking the catches back into place, Marcel stood up, feeling the familiar filling of being whole again.

Getting used to his legs for the second time in his life, Marcel mused, "It's working fine, Doctor. Oh, how I missed this feeling. Now I can fly with them again."

Back in flight immediately? That didn't sound like a good way to utilise the best Mages Osterreich-Ungar had. Throwing the Vultures against the improved Germanian Mages to buy time for him to develop his new Orb was sure to end in failure.

Then an epiphany came to the Orb Scientist. He didn't have to make hundreds of orbs to defeat the enemy! The twelve Vultures had the skills to keep up with the Germanian's technological edge. He didn't have to outfit an entire army, he just needed to equip a dozen!

Looking at the Captain's Computational Orb and then his Magical prosthesis, an idea began to take shape. "Not so fast, Captain. I have a different assignment in mind for your Vultures."

---

"Lieutenant Morozova, this is the third time you've overextended and put others in danger. I can't keep risking the others to bail you out of trouble," debriefed Petra, unhappy with the Flame Mage's performance, "Keep your head in the game before you lose it."

"I was doing perfectly fine! I don't want you to save me either! So lay off and go worry about your fucking manicure instead!" replied the infuriated Redhead.

Fuming at the insult, Petra returned in kind, "How dare you! I'm only doing this for the Captain. If he didn't ask me to keep you safe, I'd have left you to die!"

"By all means! I'm not as fragile as you are! I can hold my own!" Katya bit back, "Don't think you're special just because Marc- the Captain picked you to lead instead."

"Is this some kind of tantrum? He picked me because you can't lead for shit, you fucking spell junkie!"

"I've been clean for two months you fucking brat! Didn't your father teach you-"

"The two of you will stop now," commanded an all too familiar voice, "We are supposed to be the best of the best. Yet I have to see my Adjutant fighting with the one I placed in charge."

With a look of despair, Katya tried to defend herself, "Captain, I-"

"I understand that this is a very stressful period for the Vultures, but lashing out is inexcusable. We're better than this," continued Marcel, "But let's leave it at that. Now that I'm back on my feet, I'm taking charge again. Do the two of you understand me?"

With fists clenched and her head down, Petra von Stahl begrudgingly replied, "Yes Sir."

"Yes Sir," echoed Katya, seemingly much less upset upon hearing the news.

"Good. Now gather the Vultures. I have an announcement to make about our next job," continued the Captain, before breaking into a smile, "How do you feel about testing Orbs?"



St Gertrude Orphanage
20th April 1918


'Germania reigns supreme as Osterreich-Ungar's monstrous Phantoms disappear from the battlefield.'

It was a simple sentence, yet it resonated with hope. Germania was pushing forwards yet again, the pain in their neck no longer hindering their progress. Victory was in sight, Osterreich-Ungar could no longer fight back.

Even to Tanya and her drive for pragmatism, it was hard not to be optimistic about their chances of victory. The so-called 'Black Dragon of the South' had its wings broken. What could they do?

It wasn't a ridiculous notion to think that the war would be over soon.

As she continued to read the article, sister Amelie called out from the hallway, "Tanya! I brought your food!

With practiced ease, the girl hid the newspaper out of sight and replaced it with a book, allowing her to escape getting caught.

"You're so busy reading your books that I figured I should bring you your food," continued the Nun, showing Tanya an absolutely massive plate of food.

Knowing she would not be able to finish the meal, Tanya tried to lighten her plate, "That's too much, Amelie. I can't eat that much."

"Oh,but you're a growing girl! You need to eat more!" replied Amelie, ignoring her protest, "Now open wide!"

Preparing her body for the onslaught of food, Tanya obeyed her request. There was no way to stop sister Amelie when she has her mind set.

"Good girl."



Southern Front, Osterreich-Ungar
1st May 1918


"You're a miracle worker, Doctor. Making an entirely new Orb out of scratch. A tri-cored one at that!" complimented Felix, looking at the prototype in his hands.

"Not exactly tri-cored. It does have three cores, but it's just a regular core augmented with lesser cores," corrected Johann von Brandt.

"It's still leagues ahead of the old D-12. It really feels like a whole new world of magic has opened up to me. I feel unstoppable," added the Flame Mage, testing out a few spells.

"Well, the D-62 couldn't have come to be if it wasn't for your Captain. Somehow, he managed to solve a problem before it even existed. He showed me it was quite possible for a Mage to use multiple separate Cores at once. When I realised that, I couldn't help but think, 'What if they weren't?' And here we are, with an Orb that I believe will balance the odds in your favour."

"I have faith in your work. In return, we'll do our damndest to end this war. I really want to go home."

"Good luck to the lot of you."



Trenches of Ceska, Osterreich-Ungar
7th May 1918


The Phantoms were truly gone. An entire month had gone by since their last appearance on the battlefield. With that, the morale of the Germanian troops had never been higher. Even Corporal Lehmann was being swept up in the idea that the Wraiths and Phantoms were a thing of the past. Victory was truly on the horizon!

They had retaken the last of the lost ground and had finally begun pushing forward into new territory. The infantry was ready for their next charge against their weakened foe.

As Erik Lehmann stepped foot out of the relative safety of his trench and into the fray, he was blasted aside by an impact from the skies.

Shaking his head to clear up his confusion, the Corporal saw death and destruction. In a single moment, the Infantry charge was decimated. Bodies torn apart by metal pellets laid with corpses that were still burning. Fire and Shrapnel.

As he tried to get to his feet, a piercing voice stopped him in the middle of his tracks, "Oh my! Looks like you missed me!"

The voice struck fear into his heart, he knew who it was. The Flame Witch, she was back. That meant… the other Phantoms were too.

Looking at the skies, he saw the situation was much worse than he imagined; the Wraith was back too, this time armed with a Trench gun. There was nothing he could do but try to survive till they retreated.

To crawl back into the trenches to hide from the eyes of the Phantoms was a harrowing experience. There were a few times Erik was sure he'd been caught.

Just as he made it into the trenches, a pair of Battalions flew overhead, towards the monstrous Company. Reinforcements were here, he would soon be safe.

Or so he thought.

It should have gone like usual. The Phantoms always fled when faced against more than a Battalion of enemies. That was how they always did things.

But today was different. The Phantom's didn't flee, they charged straight into the Germanian forces. And they were winning. If they were like piranhas teaming up to rip larger enemies to shreds before, they were like sharks swallowing individual prey whole now. That's what the Germanian Mages were to them. Prey.

Numbers mattered not, the Phantoms had no fear, not when bullets failed to shatter their virtually indestructible golden shields.

As the Germanian Mages fled, the Ground troops trembled, expecting a second volley of death from the skies. Instead, the Phantoms disappeared, as if to make a statement: Germania should surrender before the Phantoms return again, they had won and no one else had to die.



Northern Front, Osterreich-Ungar
7th May 1918


Looking back at the battle that transpired, Adolphus spoke up, "That was dangerous. We almost flew a little too close to the sun."

"I'm actually not sure what happened myself. All I really remembered was the Captain praying before we engaged those Mages," affirmed Katalin.

Having pieced together what happened, Hugo described what he remembered, "We went on some kind of rampage and burnt almost all our Mana. I didn't even think it was possible for us to do that well against three Battalions."

"Honestly, it was probably a miracle we didn't get shot down at the end. We must have really shocked the Germanians," added Antonia.

"I don't want to sound too crazy here. But am I the only one that felt we were being blessed by God?" Marcel asked, striking a chord.



Space Beyond Mortal Comprehension
Time Beyond Mortal Understanding


Kysll could still hardly believe it.

A single automated blessing had turned the tide of War. It had tipped the balance in favour of a small group of Magical humans, enough for them to dominate a much larger group. An act that was sure to shatter the Morale of anyone who wished to fight. For such a small blessing to have such a large impact. It was unimaginable.

It was truly a stroke of luck that the Blessed wanted to end the war. After all, Deities didn't have any control over the prayers granted to mortals blessed by others.

Perhaps with their victory, the war would end and the God of Order could finally relax. Peace would be nice.



St Gertrude Orphanage
14th May 1918


Just yesterday, Tanya was enjoying another cupcake given to her by sister Amelie. But today was a far cry from the peaceful day before. Today, she was grasping at her hair in despair at the latest headlines.

It was just two words.

'Germania surrenders.'

Two horrible words.

There was no way! Being X must have done something! That Wretched devil! How else could the Wraith and his Phantoms have possibly made such a comeback?

With the Germanian Empire's loss, her future was looking bleak. As an orphan, she would be one of the hardest hit by the repercussions of losing the war.

There was no doubt about it. Being X was trying to make her entire life a living hell.

"Curse you being X!"



Foreign Ministry building, Wien, Capital of Osterreich-Ungar
10th June 1918


The war had lasted a mere 10 months, from August of 1917 to June of 1918. But the losses were high. Over 370,000 Germanian soldiers and more than 410,000 Ostero-Ungarian men. Too much loss for either side, a taste of Modern Warfare. It had been magnitudes bigger than the one a mere three decades ago.

Yet things had moved so fast after the reappearance of the so-called Phantom's, the two nations had lost much and wanted peace. First came a ceasefire, then an armistice and now? A treaty.

The Germanian diplomat could hardly believe the peace treaty before him. It was much milder than he would have imagined. The Kaiser of Osterreich-Ungar had basically requested a White Peace. No changes in territory with minor reparations.

It was hard to imagine someone so willing to make concessions was the nephew of the cold-blooded Tsaritsa of Balgariya-Dacia.

He would have to be mad to reject this offer. Germania was in mourning, there was no reason to worsen an already grim occasion.

Signing the treaty, he handed it over to his counterpart.

Perhaps one day, the two nations would finally be able to see eye to eye.



St Gertrude Orphanage
11th June 1918


Tanya awoke to the sounds of the Nun's cheering. Was there really anything to celebrate after the surrender?

Climbing up to the table, she found the source of their joy. A newspaper about the treaty. The end of the 'Two Empire War' was a white peace.

A white peace? Was that even possible? After all that had happened, the Ostero-Ungarian Kaiser wasn't going to make any more demands?

Why would Being X force a victory just for things to end up this way? Did he have other goals? Perhaps that was it, the Germanian Empire had been weakened and it had potential enemies in all four directions now.

She wanted to be optimistic, but if it was another one of Being X's plots, she couldn't let her guard down. She had to prepare for her future. Complacency was an insidious killer.

The Germanian Empire would be in dire need of mages in the following years. One of them being her. She had to volunteer before she got conscripted. She needed to grasp her future in her own hands. The future of the Empire hinged on the information contained within her Journal.

If her future required her to join the Great War as a soldier, then so be it. She'd fight tooth and nail to show that devil just how much she was willing to do for peace.

---

With that, the war is over! Do you think thinks will get better? I'm always up to hear your opinions and ideas.

It's fine if you wish to discuss older chapter in this thread, but you're always invited to do so in my discord server instead.

 

[DualWing]

For a Peaceful Tomorrow

Schonbrunn Palace, Wien, Capital of Osterreich-Ungar
2nd July 1918


It had been a long time since the Military Medal presentation ceremony was held in the Imperial Palace. But today was a celebration for a very important event. This was their Greatest triumph in recent history! Their honor had been restored after their loss three decades ago!

Emperor Karl the First had led the Empire to victory. The papers were even lauding him as the greatest monarch in recent history. It was to be a new dawn for a declining Empire!

This increase in approval had given him the power to push against the noble houses that took up the majority of the seats in the government. Houses that once relied on their ancient prestige were removed from roles that they neglected, replaced with those that were truly capable. Osterreich-Ungar was taking a page out from the book of her northern neighbour, she was becoming a Meritocracy.

'The talent of the young would lead the Ostero-Ungarian Empire to greater heights,' the Kaiser had announced during the victory speech, much to the displeasure of the old aristocracy. Yet despite all their complaints, it seemed like they no longer held the sway they once did, Karl the First had cemented the beginning of his reign!

And amongst his latest choices was today's ceremony to celebrate their heroes, the young men and women who spilled their blood for the nation!

Long Live the Kaiser! Long may he reign!

---

Marcel adjusted the collar of his ceremonial uniform. "This is a tad overkill isn't it? Is there really a need for me to be dressed up so elaborately?"

"Get used to it Baron von Bastion, You'll have to look the role of a model officer! This is the standard you'll have to live up to being a noble," smiled Petra von Stahl, evidently pleased that her commander had not magically gained an understanding of Noblesse Oblige after gaining his title.

Looking into the mirror to check on his glass eye, the Captain frowned, "I didn't agree to have my surname changed. I quite liked it, my mother gave it to me. What kind of surname is von Bastion anyways, did they just turn my Nickname into a surname?"

"I think it's quite nice. Marcel von Bastion has a certain ring to it," piped Katya.

"It's not your surname, you don't get to decide," Marcel tried to shut her down.

"It could be."

"Are you sure you want to be called Catherine von Bastion?" he questioned, before shaking his head, "Anyways, it's good to see you all here one last time before we go our separate ways. But I'm somewhat doubtful, do you think we'll actually lead normal lives?"

Hugo's voice rumbled, for the first time his attention focused on something other than his books, "We'll have to try. Better to have trouble fitting in after a war than fitting in perfectly during one. I'll be forever grateful for your recommendation letter for my entry into College. You've done so much for all of us."

"That's true, you even took the time to recommend us to places that will fit us best," agreed Nikolai, speaking up from the back.

"We'll keep in contact anyway, it's not like we're going very far. My father's bakery is just around that corner," Felix pointed towards the Essensstrasse district.

"You should visit mine instead. That is if you want to visit rural Ungar," challenged Katalin, adjusting her own uniform.

The Captain smiled, "I'll keep that all in mind, but I'm going to Berun first. I have someone to reconnect with."

Their meeting was interrupted by an announcement from their former Field Marshall. "Next up is Captain Marcel Fortin, Commander of the Vulture Company, The Heroes of Ceska!"

"Oh, looks like it's my time to shine." said Marcel, walking up the podium towards the Lieutenant General.

"In recognition of his service to his Majesty The Kaiser, Captain Marcel Fortin is awarded the Silver Cross of Military Merit, granted the Title of Baron and an estate in Wien. I dub thee Baron Marcel von Bastion," announced General von Falkenberg.

As he pinned the medal upon the Captain's uniform, Maximilian von Falkenberg added a more personal comment, "To be honest my boy, I was only joking when I said that the Kaiser might grant you a title. But here you are, now officially a noble in all rights. Never thought I'd see the day."

The newly appointed Baron gave a salute as the general stepped back, "Thank you Sir, glad I made you proud."

"I am beyond proud. You are a hero to our Nation. You have exceeded all expectations."

"Hopefully for the last time. I don't want to see another war."

---

"That's them? The heroes of Ceska? They're more… diverse than I expected," commented Kaiser Karl, looking at the medal ceremony down below.

"They are Sons and Daughters from all over our Nation, your Majesty," replied his confidant, "Heroes come in many forms."

Rolling his eyes, the monarch complained, "Sandor, I really wish you'd stop speaking to me so formally. You're my friend, not one of my ministers!"

"Karl. You are the Kaiser now. You have to act the part whether you like it or not. You have to choose your words wisely, and your actions even more so. Remember what happened the last time."

"The last time I spoke without thinking, close to a million people died."

"A shame. But that's over now. And I expect you'd be doing much better after that lesson. I think you're already on the right path," replied Sandor, referring to the recent changes to the organisation of the nation's politics.

As the Emperor confessed the thoughts behind his decisions, he pointed down at the medal ceremony, "As this war has shown, the future sits in the hands of the young and capable. I just hope our heroes don't resent the fact that I didn't make the Germanians pay for the blood they spilled. I just wanted to keep the peace for a while longer…"

"There's nothing wrong with a quiet reign. As much as the people celebrate victory and honour, they would rather not have wars."

"A quiet reign? Surely you're joking! With Kaiser Fredrick to the North and Aunt Elenora to the Southeast, I think quiet would be the last thing on the list. I'm going to have to reorganise the Military soon enough."



Pariser Platz, Berun, Capital of Germania
18th July 1918


Marcel looked at the plaza, reminiscing upon the past. The last time he walked through these streets was four years ago. It had been night then, he was on the run from the law, for a crime he didn't commit.

But today? Today he had time to truly appreciate the sight. A monument to the greatest triumphs of Germanian history.

As he walked down the streets from the train station, he saw a piece of wartime propaganda upon the window of a store.

'Your bonds may buy the bullet that kills the Wraith!'

Reading the glaring red words, he froze in his tracks.

That's right. He was no longer a citizen of Germania, no matter how much he missed it. To them, he was a monster that murdered their loved ones, a Wraith that destroyed families.

Looking once more at the posters, he couldn't help but think: it would be nice if peace would heal this wound too.



St Gertrude Orphanage
18th July 1918


Getting off the bus, Marcel looked at the orphanage that had been his home for two years.

The slow bus ride had given Marcel even more time for introspection. He hadn't seen her since he was ten. It had been six long years. Six years of mistakes piled up. How would she react to the things he had done? Would she still accept him? Was she still mad? Or had she forgotten him entirely?

As he stood before the once towering oak door, he realised just how much had changed. Unlike back then, he could now reach the top of the door without any effort, he didn't even have to jump. He definitely wasn't the same headstrong boy as back then.

Hesitating for longer than he should, Marcel finally rang the bell.

With a creak of unoiled hinges, the door opened to reveal an aging Nun. Looking at the visitor, the woman spoke up, "I'm sorry, sir. It's too late today, please come back tomorrow with the relevant documentation if you wish to adopt a child."

"No, that's not why I'm here. I'm here to visit Amelie."

"Who are you, why are you looking for her?"

Pulling up his cap to reveal his face, he answered, "It's me, Sister Agatha. Marcel. I've come to visit my mother."

"Oh my! It's been a long time, hasn't it? I'll go find her, why don't you wait for her in the dining hall?"

"Thank you."

As Marcel dug through his memories to aid him in navigating the building, he came upon a room that was all too familiar. It had remained mostly the same, albeit worn by half a decade's worth of time. The room was decorated with the few pieces of furniture they had brought with them. In hindsight, it was probably foolish to have thought they could afford a home in Berun. The money they got when they sold their old home became a donation to this very orphanage.

As he came upon his old bed, much smaller than he remembered, he noticed there was a figure sleeping under the blankets. Pausing before he could make out their features, he realised: it was his bed no longer, the world had continued to turn after he left, he shouldn't expect it to remain unchanged.

Opting to leave the child undisturbed, Marcel left the room as quietly as he could, continuing his walk towards the dining hall. Towards his past. There she was, after all those years. He had returned. A homecoming long awaited.

"Maman, I'm back."

---

As Amelie looked at the visitor, she felt a piece of her heart awaken again. When Agatha told her that there was a visitor looking for her, she was confused. She hadn't expected anyone would be searching for her, she had kept no contact with anyone after they moved to Berun.

But before her was someone very close to her heart. Her darling son, that foolish little boy that ran away at the age of ten.

"Oh Marcel, Mon petit Marcel. Why did you leave? What have you been all these years?" she asked, before noticing the scar on his face, "What… what happened to you?"

Holding his mother's hand to reassure her, Marcel answered, "I made a mistake, maman. Many mistakes. You kept paying attention to the other kids. I thought you didn't care about me anymore. I ran away to the city."

Her eyes widened at the revelation, "For six years? What did you do?"

"For two. I got caught up with the wrong crowd and had to flee to Osterreich," corrected Marcel, "Ended up serving in their Military and the war. Before I tell you more, will you forgive me? Forgive any sins I have committed?"

"Marcel… what do you- Yes! Yes, I forgive you. What kind of Mother couldn't forgive her child's mistakes?"

Looking up at the ceiling to hold back his tears, Marcel confessed his sins to his mother, "The Wraith of Ceska, that was me, a monster that killed his own countrymen to survive. Can you actually forgive me for putting even more children here?"

Finally, the dam broke. With tears in his eyes, he hugged his mother close. And in return, she did the same. Amelie could feel the weight leave off his shoulders as his confession was met with the absolution he had been looking for.

"Oh Marcel, I will always love you."

---

19th July 1918


Tanya found it hard to concentrate solely on eating her breakfast. Everytime she looked up at Sister Amelie, the nun was smiling from ear to ear, never had she seen the nun smile that widely. From the looks of things, a generous donor had visited late last night, all the nuns couldn't help but talk about 'Marcel' and the large donation he had made to the orphanage. As it turned out, the enigmatic visitor was in fact related to Amelie, though Tanya couldn't be sure how.

Finding Sister Amelie's mystery ever more intriguing, Tanya asked her just who Marcel was. If he was someone useful, she could get sister Amelie to introduce them. Making connections was important.

"Oh? You must have heard his name from the others. Hmm, let's see. Marcel is… someone I love very much, someone very dear to my heart. I do wish I could have taken up his offer to leave with him, but I have responsibilities to the orphanage now. I have to take care of you… and all the other children," replied the nun, her head seemingly in the clouds, "At least he made a donation! You'll be eating well for a while!"

Someone she loves very much? That didn't quite make much sense, she had never mentioned him before. Was he her lover? Perhaps one that came back after the war? That did make sense if he was trying to get her to leave the orphanage.

What a relief. If Sister Amelie had left, she would have lost her greatest asset in this orphanage. There would be no one to protect her. Tanya did truly feel bad for Marcel, but he would just have to take the loss for her benefit. The self always comes before others, after all.

With the nun adamant on staying, Tanya could continue to reap the benefits of being close to her. Knowing Sister Amelie was a lucky break and sticking close to her had long proven to be the best choice, Tanya would do everything to stay in her good graces.

She may not like Being X, but some of his believers were alright.



Berun, Capital of Germania
19th July 1918


Berun was, by every meaning of the word, beautiful. Far from the fighting in the south, it was probably as peaceful as it was now. It wasn't that far off Wien on that note. In fact, the two capitals had so much in common.

So much in common… A thought that made Marcel's stomach churn. The War had been pointless. Lives thrown away for things that didn't matter, deaths that he had a hand in.

He was a sinner and he hadn't been forgiven. He didn't really feel better at all. Not even after confessing to his mother.

With a sigh, he lowered himself into a bench, before thinking about his mother's words.

'I would love to come with you. But I have the responsibility to take care of the children here. Perhaps in the future… but not now.'

It was plain to see that his departure had left a scar in her heart and she had to take up caring for the children in the orphanage to fill it. He had wronged her most of all.

Making amends would take a long time, but that was something he had now. He had time to make things right. Perhaps one day he could truly wash all the blood off his hands, perhaps one day he would no longer feel the flames of hell licking at the bottom of his feet.

Marcel took a deep breath and let his mind go blank. Leaving all his burdens temporarily without thinking about too much was nice. Forgetting his responsibility and regrets was nice. Peace was… nice.



Officer Cadet School Mage Wing, Berun
6th August 1918


Viktoriya Ivanova Serebryakova looked at the towering gates of the academy. She hadn't stepped foot in there since the start of the war, a mere month of training before she had been assigned to Dr von Schugel and his tests.

As a gesture of appreciation for her impressive record, the higher ups had given her the opportunity to finish her Officer training, to become a proper Mage Commander. A gesture that she had taken eagerly, perhaps too eagerly. The fighting had only just stopped and she was already preparing for the next. Just where did this restlessness come from?

As Viktoriya walked through the gates, she was struck by a wave of nausea and the familiar pang of loneliness. Just why was she like this? What exactly was she missing? Where did all these confusing feelings come from? The yearning, the… craving for war?

Suddenly, she found herself being supported by a fellow soldier, a woman at that.

"Are you alright?" asked the brunette.

Standing back up after catching her breath, Viktoriya thanked her, "I'm fine now, thank you. My name is Viktoriya, but you can call me Visha."

"Oh! What a coincidence! You're my roommate! The name's Elena, but you can call me Erya if you wish. Why don't we get you acquainted with the Academy?"

Following her new friend, Viktoriya made her way further into the building… and further towards her calling. The call of her Future.



Schonbrunn Palace, Wien, Capital of Osterreich-Ungar
18th August 1918


"The gall of this Hag!" shouted the young Kaiser, throwing the letter from his 'beloved' aunt on the floor, "She already got Erdely selling her sister, now she wants even more Ungarian territory by selling her daughter to me!"

"Tsaritsa Elenora isn't lacking in ambition, that's for sure. But are you sure you don't want to consider the deal? You'd probably inherit it all back and more if you marry Crown Princess Sofiya, having an alliance by marriage would be useful," replied Sandor, asking his old friend to look at the bigger picture.

Waving away his friend's suggestion, Karl complained further, "I'm not really interested in marrying any of my first cousins, much less Sofiya Elenora Isabella. Besides, everyone knows what happened to the ambitious Duke of Dacia after he married my aunt."

Sandor frowned at what his friend was implying, "I do admit his death was pretty sudden, but I don't think he was killed."

"He died of 'illness' right after they had their third child! And the moment he kicked the bucket, the hag took over everything! I'm not making the same mistake!"

"Well, the Dukedom of Dacia has never seen better days. If Princess Sofia is half as competent as her mother, Osterreich-Ungar would probably be in good hands!" Sandor laughed at his friend's expense.

"Enough jokes, no matter how useful being allied is, I really don't want to marry her," frowned the Kaiser as he began writing his reply, "Now how do I word this…"



Imperial Military College, Wien, Capital of Osterreich-Ungar
30th August 1918


'Money is the root of all evil,' was quite a strong sentiment. But it certainly reflected Marcel's thoughts at the moment. Well… not evil, it was more of a mere woe.

As he looked at his bank records, Marcel finally realised that the donation to the orphanage had been a tad too hasty. Were it not for the fact that he had already been granted a house, he would undoubtedly have been labeled homeless. With his current income in the negatives, there would have been no way he could afford a home.

Whilst he had pulled strings to recommend most of his subordinates into their future occupations, he had failed to do the same for himself. In fact, he was the only one that still didn't have a path planned out.

Katya, Nikolai and Antonia had found jobs in the military sector, much more peaceful than the ones they had during the war. Petra had gone on to become a Mage trainer, with Hugo being her assistant on his off days from Engineering college. Felix and Katalin had respectively returned home to pick up their family businesses, while Adolphus was making it big with his paintings.

That left Marcel to wonder about his next step, a pained struggle searching for work that eventually led to him sitting in an office in the Imperial Military College. In his desperation to find a job that would pay a sixteen year old war hero a livable wage, he had taken up an offer from the General staff. To be a lecturer at this very College.

It was partly thanks to the Kaiser's 'Meritocratic Defence Initiative' to hire and retain any talent within the Military that he had been offered the opportunity. Speaking practically, it was a good choice, but it was one he was beginning to regret.

In just a few days, he was to lecture not just the future officers of the Reich, but the Generals too. Generals nearing four times his age. Generals that had spent their whole lives following doctrine. And he was expected to teach them the 'future of warfare'.

Having responsibilities is a bit stressful, isn't it?

---

3rd September 1918


Maximilian von Falkenberg sat amongst his fellow old men, they were all old hands at war, each one having led troops for at least twenty years.

Yet here they were, students of a boy who had just turned sixteen a few months back. He would have laughed at anyone who would suggest such a thing a year back, but having seen the ideas that Captain von Bastion had brought up showed him better. The boy knew what he was doing. It wasn't hard to imagine that he was blessed by the God of War himself!

The Lieutenant General looked down in anticipation as the Mage walked towards the podium. He couldn't wait to find out what the lecture held in store. This was going to be enlightening.

---

Marcel had no idea what he was doing.

His so-called revolutionary ideas had been made up on the spot, spun out of thin air from random ideas thrown at a wall. What did he even have to say? He was fresh out of ideas.

Looking up at the auditorium, Marcel saw a familiar face, a General with a smile plastered on his face. The origin of all his troubles. Lieutenant General von Falkenberg.

A thought popped up in his head. If a head on attack wasn't possible, he should divert the attention of the enemy.

Marcel began his speech with a grand opening, "To all of you here today, may I assume my reputation precedes me? I imagine everyone knows who I am. With General von Falkenberg's recommendation, High Command has deemed me an expert in modern warfare and expects me to teach all of you. So, I request that all of you let go of any prejudices you may have of my age and listen to me before you make your judgement."

A murmur began as heads turned to look at the stunned General. A scene that brought a smile onto Marcel's face, he didn't get many chances to put his superior in a spot.

"Let's start with something I am familiar with, The 111th Special Mage Company. The Vultures, as we called ourselves, worked very differently from the rest of our Military forces, we had much more flexibility in our operations and I believe that is the reason why we had so much success," continued the captain as he paced the podium,"and why we weren't inefficient compared to the others."

Looking up once again at his 'students', Marcel noticed the many looks of confusion. It wasn't too strange, he had basically just told them that following strict orders was a recipe for disaster.

"It seems I have not fully gotten my point across. So let's look at the early days of the Two Empire War. For the first few months, we were facing what one would call a crushing defeat, with the Germanians gaining ground at a rapid pace. Many soldiers assumed it was due to the fact that our equipment was much poorer than theirs, but unfortunately that was not the case," Marcel informed, opening the binder of military doctrines, "Our weakness was doctrinal, a flawed mindset! Our technology may have advanced past the need for Cavalry, but our ideas had not! We're in the age of Artillery! Yet we still fight wars as if it was only between thousands of soldiers! Nations of today can muster hundreds of thousands!"

Throwing the binder upon the floor, he iterated his point, "We cannot keep using past strategies for modern wars!"

With just that one action, the mild murmurs turned into an outraged ruckus.

"It had taken the greatest of changes to win us this uphill battle! We do not have the luxury of clinging on to the past! Perhaps those of you who were at the Northern front remember the Vultures' greatest defeat!" Shouted Marcel as he pointed at his glass eye, "The Vultures were routed at each battle after the first, slowly losing hard won land. Eight thousand lives were lost because we had lost our only trump card!"

He had gotten their interest, a glorious success. He just had to keep talking, he always had a silver tongue.

"Gentlemen, it is time for new doctrines in war! Let's start with something simple, the fact that our men still wore light blue while hiding in the brown trenches!"

---

Maximilian von Falkenberg considered the boy's words. It was true, many of the concepts he had used in the war were based on archaic ideas. Classics from an age ago. His own expertise in field command came from serving as an officer during the Ostero-Germanian War three decades ago.

As more and more ideas and concepts spilled out of Marcel's mouth, more and more lights were going off in the heads of the other generals and officers. Changes on the colouration of uniforms, equipping the infantry with helmets instead of caps. All those seemed so obvious after they were pointed out. Yet they were all things that had slipped through his grasp, knowledge that had eluded him.

He couldn't help but wonder how many lives could have been saved if these ideas had existed back then. The future was bright.



St Gertrude Orphanage
24th September 1918


Tanya looked at the absolutely massive bar of chocolate before herself. According to sister Amelie, it was a gift from Marcel.

"I told him it was your birthday, I hope you don't mind the gift being so simple.'

Simple? Chocolate was worth its weight in gold! If Marcel could afford such luxury, he must be quite high ranking. Perhaps she should consider being adopted by him.

"What exactly does Marcel do? Is he a soldier?" asked the girl, trying to get a better understanding of her benefactor.

"Well, not anymore. He's a lecturer now. He works very far from here."

A military lecturer. That's good. Low risk of death and a relatively high pay. Now, how would she go about getting adopted?



Sofiya, Capital of Balgariya-Dacia
December 1918


Ostero-Ungarian Foreign minister Nagy Henrik was beyond nervous. His hands wouldn't stop shaking, he couldn't even hold his cup long enough to take a drink.

Before him sat three of the most powerful people in Europa. Monarchs from both old and rising powers. What was he supposed to do as one of the so-called "New Blood'', brought in to replace the corrupt departments? His status as both a commoner and an Ungarian had prevented him from moving up for years!

To his dismay, when his promotion finally came, he was brought straight to the top. At age thirty-three, he was now the Head of the Foreign affairs ministry. All he had prayed for was a peaceful middle ground, and now he was expected to forge an alliance with Osterreich-Ungar's neighbours. He was ill-prepared for a task this big!

Before him sat his Kaiser, Karl Albert and the youngest ruler at the table. A cautious idealist that truly understood the value of meritocracy. Someone who saw his value.

Sitting to his right was Tsaritsa Elenora Maria Kristina, pentagenarian Empress of Balgariya-Dacia. Well known for her push for industrialisation as the Steel Empress, she has singlehandedly brought about the golden age for her Realm both Economically and Militaristically.

And to his left was King Alexander of Jugoslavija, uniter of the Belken Europan states. With his guidance, Jugoslavija stands strong against their old conquerors from both Manga Rumeli and Osterreich-Ungar.

Relations between the nations gathered here were rocky at best, neither Balgariya-Dacia nor Jugoslavija had a positive opinion of Osterreich-Ungar. Yet seeing as the Monarchs of both Nations had agreed to this meeting, they were open to negotiating with the new Kaiser.

The Balgariyan-Dacians reflected the will of their Tsaritsa well, they had ambitions upon rightful Ungarian land. Their ambition was only suppressed by the fact that they were surrounded by neighbours that were tougher than them. A war in any direction would be a poor use of their resources, but a defensive alliance with any would push the odds in their favour. And with the Tsaritsa's nephew at the helm of Osterreich-Ungar, there was little reason to reject the possibility of an alliance.

On the other hand, due to their 'shared history', the Jugoslavijans were much more belligerent to any suggestions by Osterreich-Ungar. The only reason they hadn't shut the discussion down was out of consideration for their trade alliance with the Union.

It wasn't as if Osterreich-Ungar was lacking in neighbours, it was just that the other options were even less likely to accept any kind of concession.

There was little to say about Germania. With the two nations being so similarly ambitious, it was obvious why they'd never gotten along and it was likely that they never will.

There was even less to say about the Federation. After the red army dethroned the Tsar and the communists took charge, they had broken all the old alliances. They had a negative view on Monarchies and an even more horrible view on Mages. An alliance with them would mar the international unity of Osterreich-Ungar.

The Empire's final neighbour was Ildoa, yet another country she had a bloody history with. Back in the Ostero-Germanian War, it was the Ildoans that had tipped the scale in favour of Germania, marking the beginning of Osterreich's slow decline.

---

Kaiser Karl picked the draft written up by his Foreign affairs minister, prompting his fellow Monarchs to do the same.

Reading through the lines proved just how worthy of the role his Minister was, the agreement brought up the threat of communist insurgency, a threat that all who sat at the table understood.

While his aunt had practically jumped at the excuse to ally against the threat of the Federation, King Alexander wasn't so easily swayed.


Karl understood that the King had his people to think about, knowing that allying with their old enemy was unlikely to please the public. But Alexander also understood the threat the Federation posed to his own standing and was willing, but only if they added another clause relating to the Rumelians.

With that, the Three Monarchies formed an Alliance dubbed the Tri-Crown Coalition. A defensive pact against the Russy Federation and the Rumelian Sultanate coupled with a trade union. An alliance that would hopefully pave the foundation for peace in the future of Europa.



St Gertrude Orphanage
2nd January 1919


Tanya stared at the words upon the newspaper, hardly believing the headlines. Were the Empire's politicians so foolish that they would strain the already tense relations between the two Empires further? Why would anyone with half a brain accuse Osterreich-Ungar of taking hostile political actions against them after the concessions their southern neighbour had given?

It was a little worrying that the Ostero-Ungarian had created a military alliance so soon after the war, but the focus was upon the Federation communists. Tanya didn't even need her journal to dislike the Reds, any nation that purged their own population deserved all the hate they got. What a waste of human resources.

Was Germania really this blind to the threat of their Eastern neighbour? Why did they want to pick a fight with their more reasonable neighbour? They should be asking to join the Alliance instead. If only she had the power to do something about it.

Humans are such irrational creatures.



Drachenherz Labs, Osterreich
9th February 1919


Doctor von Brandt ducked as the explosion happened. As he raised his head over the blast shield, he was greeted by a distressed Katya clutching her right hand close to her body.

"Fucking damn it. I didn't let go in time," winced the redheaded Mage.

Looking at her now bloodstained uniform, the doctor called out in a panic, "She needs medical attention ASAP! Get her some painkillers!"

"No… Don't. I'm a recovering mental spell addict," she replied, her left hand pulling on his sleeve, "I can't disappoint the Captain by falling off the wagon again."

The doctor looked at the bloodstained glove prints on his lab coat. Her words had struck a chord in him, the veterans of the war were still suffering. Yet here he was, so excited to create yet another combat Orb. Could he do something to make it up to her? To make it up to all of them?

Perhaps he should finish his prosthesis project first. It wasn't like he was going anywhere with understanding the Germanian Type-51s anyways.

---

18th February 1918


"So how is it? Does it feel as natural as Captain von Bastion described?" questioned Doctor von Brandt.

Katya voiced out her admiration for the scientist's work, enamoured at the device that replaced her mangled hand, "It's so… normal. I thought having an entirely mechanical hand would feel special or something. But this doesn't feel any different at all! How did you do this?"

"I'm not sure. I'm not a Mage, I can't test it myself. But if I to guess, I believe that it's related to the fact that you have to use your own mana to make it work. Magic is a very personal gift, after all."

"Well, perhaps it is. But we don't have time to test that out, do we? So why don't we get back to work on your prototypes? I do appreciate being one of the few people able to use spells even in peacetime."

"Well, I feel like I've hit a stump. I can't understand how the Germanians managed to create such an advanced Orb! It feels nothing like the Type-13s, it's a technological leap beyond what I can imagine! If only I had a few more examples of the Type-51, maybe I could dismantle one to find out more. For now, I think we should just work on refining the D-62s,at least I know how those work."

"If only you had more Type-51s…" Katya repeated.

"I'm thinking of adding another minor core to the D-62 and seeing how that goes," continued the Scientist, too engrossed in his thoughts to hear her.

"What if we took away the main core?" asked Katya, putting her prosthetic hand on his shoulder to catch his attention.

"The main core? Why would we do that? The bulk of the processing power comes from the main core! If we did that we'd just be left with two minor cores… Two identical minor cores… Lieutenant Morozova, I think you may have just given me something to work with!" he replied in confusion, before his eyes lit up in revelation.

Katya watched the scientist working with renewed fervor and then towards her replacement hand, understanding why her former Captain thought so highly of the Scientist. This was a man who would pave the way to the future. A future of peace.



Ministry of Military Affairs, Wien, Capital of Osterreich-Ungar
19th February 1919


Nikolai knew he told Katya he was working in Communications, so why was she asking him to source some Type-51s?

It wasn't as if it was impossible, after all he wasn't actually in where he said he was. He had been recommended into a much more fitting role: Espionage.

Unlike Katya who lived life loudly, he didn't like to take centre stage. Being in the background suited him much more. The Vultures were masters of stealth and he was even more so, keeping out of sight while relaying messages for the commander. If Petra was the deadliest Mage, he was the most passive with only ten confirmed kills, putting him behind even the Flame Mages.

Though he may not have any combat ability to boast of, he had a different advantage. He had the knack for sneaking into places where he shouldn't be. If his commander had been anyone else, they probably would have never noticed.

That was what made Captain von Bastion the best commander any individual could ask for. He gave out roles that fit the person, not force them to conform into the roles given.

Preparing for his next trip over the border, Nikolai began packing his equipment. This was going to be a fun time.



Officer Cadet School Mage Wing, Berun
23rd February 1919


Elena Muller found the roommate she had been 'assigned' to perplexing. Viktoriya-no Visha was a very nice girl, cheerful and polite. She wasn't problematic, a far cry from what Elena thought a thirteen year old veteran would act.

It was more of the fact that her attention would drift from the conversations they were having, every so often, Visha would just stare off into the distance. It was disconcerting to see her expression twist into one of confusion. The girl needed some help, something beyond what Elena could provide.

Deep in thought about Visha, she was interrupted by the Night Guard making his rounds, "It's a bit late to still be out isn't it, Lieutenant Muller?"

"Oh, I just couldn't sleep. Too many thoughts. I'll go back to my room," she replied before excusing herself.

Sure, she was merely ordered to keep an eye on a promising combat mage but she felt bad for Visha. Surely she could do more than just pretend to be a fellow warrant officer.

Suddenly she stopped in her tracks.

Wait. She was pretending to be a warrant officer. No one but the higher ups should have known she was actually a Second Lieutenant. So how did the Night Guard?

Just as she realised the discrepancy, she felt the charge of a spell being used near the Orb armoury.

Fuck.

She raced through the hallways to the site of the spell discharge, hoping to put a stop to the intruder's plans. But it was too late, by the time she made it, the armoury door had been breached and the perpetrator was nowhere in sight.

As one of the few Mages expected to take care of the Orbs, she had let someone past her and lost the Orbs. Elena was confident her future was not going to look too bright after this.



Drachenherz Labs, Osterreich
28th February 1919


Katya brought the magic-induced flame away the end of her now lit cigarette, puffing away at the smoke. Having the time to take a smoke had become rare ever since Dr von Brandt began working overtime with his latest prototypes.

"Delivery for First Lieutenant Morozova," interrupted an all too familiar voice.

"Thank you for your service, First Lieutenant Morozov," laughed Katya as she greeted her twin brother.

"What made you think that I could even get my hands on these? I even had the Captain promise not to tell you!"

Stifling her laughter, Katya replied, "Niko. I know you better than anyone else and I know the Commander knew your strengths pretty well too. It wasn't hard to figure out what you were actually doing."

"I've never been able to get anything past you."

"And you never will. Now let's go show the Doctor the fruits of your labour. I'm looking forward to see his expression."

"You're awfully excited to go back to testing for someone that had her hand taken by an exploding orb."

"I can't live in the past forever. One day you'll have to look forward to the future."



St Gertrude Orphanage
10th April 1919


Once again, Tanya had grown out of her usual clothes. Perhaps all that extra food she'd gotten from Sister Amelie was finally taking effect. This time, she had gotten a more practical set of clothes, somewhat old but much better than any of those dresses the other girls wore.

Life with sister Amelie was always a little stifling. It was only on days where sister Amelie received a letter from Marcel that Tanya could find peace. Those were the days where Tanya had time to herself, the nun too busy gushing over the contents of the letter to focus on Tanya.

Tanya would spend most of that time trying to analyse the contents of her journal. She had recently made some headway into some of the concepts it presented. Her forays into logical thinking aiding her path.

Standardised containers for transport logistics felt almost obvious. It felt weird that it hadn't already been implemented. But things like rockets that could bring Mages massive distances still eluded her, the concept bringing a chill down her spine. Why exactly was she scared of it?

It would seem like she would need much more time to properly understand the book her past self had left her. But the concepts held within were no longer as alien as they used to be. Her toolkit was no longer too unwieldy to use.

The Future wasn't as imposing as it used to be.



Becker and Sons Bakery, Österreich
12th April 1919


Felix Becker was a mon of responsibility. Or so he'd like to believe. He had volunteered for the war because it was his duty. And now that it was over, he would take up the responsibility of enjoying the peace he fought for. There was a vast difference between the smell of burning flesh and the smell of baked goods, after all.

Working in a Bakery in the middle of Wien meant that some of his most common customers were the soldiers from the various military academies and garrisons. Tired of the cheap bread that their own mess provided, they would flock over during their break.

But this particular customer was much stranger than the usual. It's not everyday you get a War Hero hiding behind your counter.

"Captain, I'm usually not one to question your plans. But I'd like to know, why have you taken up refuge in my father's bakery?" asked Felix.

Sneering at the question, Marcel von Bastion answered it, "They're forcing me to be a propaganda piece. Anyway, how much is that pastry?"

"Four Kronen. Never imagined the great Hero of Ceska hated getting his photo taken."

Handing over the money, the disgraced Mage replied, "My mother lives in Germania, they'd never let me in if they knew I was the Wraith."

"Couldn't you just claim it was a modeling job?" asked the baker, as he took the coins.

"The Germanians are a little touchy about our little coalition. They really don't like anyone who supports our military."

"Well, unfortunately it doesn't seem like you have a choice. They found you, " the baker pointed to the Military Police that had surrounded Marcel while he was distracted with the conversation.

"Betrayal! You'll never catch me alive!"

The war hero bolted for the entrance, chased by the Military Police. A strange sight to behold. One that brought a smile to the Baker's face.

If this was what peace was like, Felix wouldn't mind plenty more for the future.



St Gertrude Orphanage
6th May 1919


Amelia Fortin loved the propaganda photos her son had mailed her. He was all grown up now, he looked so heroic. She may not have been there to raise him for the last six years, but he had turned into a fine young man.

He would occasionally donate money to the orphanage, calling it his penance. While it pained her to see him feel so guilty about something beyond his control, she was glad that he wanted to help the children here. In addition, he sent even more chocolate this time. Tanya would love it.

It was a shame he couldn't visit as often anymore. With the sudden increase in tension between the countries, having him cross the border was nigh unfeasible.

---

Tanya liked sister Amelia and she definitely liked that she was corresponding with Marcel. Especially after constanly receiving chocolate sent by him. He certainly knew how to make an impression. Life at the orphanage had gotten even more bearable since. Marcel was definitely a prime candidate to be adopted by.

It was a shame that he never had time to visit the orphanage, she had so many ideas on how to convince him. Just one visit, that's all she needed.

Her peaceful future rested on it.



Military College of Wien, Österreich
27th June 1919


Marcel had been teaching for close to a year now, having already educated several sets of students. Hopefully the impact he had on the nation's wartime doctrine was positive. He had taught so many Generals and future Officers.

He had suggested many things, from hit-and-run tactics to utilizing Mages in non combat roles. He had also gotten back an incredible amount of ideas as well, thesis upon thesis filled with ideas that could change the way war worked. Some could only ever work in the land of imagination, others were revolutionary. Then there were a few that were downright horrifying.

It would seem like having a taste of Modern War hadn't dulled the Nation's militaristic tendencies. While it didn't mean another war had to happen, Marcel prayed for peace all the same.



Space Beyond Mortal Comprehension
Time Beyond Mortal Understanding


Humans are complex, illogical creatures. They often acted in ways that should be contrary to logic.

Normally, Kysll wouldn't have directly intervened with their thoughts, the will of illogical creatures was a tricky thing to adjust. But this time was different, he had a real chance to change things! He could patch up the divide between the two Nations for real.

Flicking several switches, he began spreading an idea to the citizens of the two Empires.

One of Peace that would pave the way of the future.



Imperial Palace, Berun, Capital of Germania
16th July 1919


Karl the First was quite nervous. He wasn't expecting that the stubborn Kaiser of Germania would actually accept his request for the formation of an alliance.

Their two Nations had a bloody history spanning the entirety of their shared history. Yet after the Two Empire War, it almost felt like they could work together, to be something bigger, perhaps even bring about the Revival of the Holy Empire of old.

The Two nations had become amiable much more quickly than what the Young Kaiser expected, perhaps it was due to the newfound distaste for bloodshed they now both shared or perhaps it was due to the encroaching threat of Communist ideologies gaining traction. They both knew what the Reds did to Monarchs.

Taking a walk in the Palace gardens was supposed to settle his nerves, but he found himself most unfortunately lost. He was trapped in a vast and large labyrinth.

Looking for the exit, he spotted a noble lady. Perhaps she could help him locate the way out.

He approached her to make his request, hoping she could give him the answer he needed, "Apologies, My Lady. It seems I am lost. May I know the way to the Audience room?"

"It's that way. If you are meeting His Majesty, you must be the Kaiser of Osterreich-Ungar," she replied before bowing, "Isn't it strange to be making a visit in person to discuss an alliance, Your Majesty?"

Karl blinked in surprise at the fact that a Noble woman would know about the reason for his visit, "I'm surprised you know about that, not many noble women seem to care for politics! Well, I felt it was neccesary to make a trip personally. This could very well be a meeting that changes the World! I have to see it through in person."

"I'm not very well versed in politics, my father just speaks a lot about it. But it's not like I can participate even if I was."

"It seems a little backwards doesn't it? The whole Nation moving forwards in such blinding speed, yet they left half their population behind! But it's not like I have any right to say that. I haven't done anything about that myself," frowned the Emperor guiltily.

"Oh? How progressive! And do you think women should be allowed to inherit estates?" laughed the mysterious woman.

"My maternal aunt is the Tsaritsa of Balgariya-Dacia and despite everything, I do respect her. Her gender doesn't make her a poor ruler. So if even one of the greatest Monarchs of our time can be a woman, why can't women participate in politics or inherit their family estates?"

"I see. Perhaps one day that would change."

"For your sake, hopefully soon!" he finished, taking his leave.

As he followed her directions, the young Kaiser couldn't help but think about how passionate she seemed about gender equality. Perhaps it was time for him to address that for his Nation as well.

Finally he came to the grandiose doors of the audience chamber. Understanding the need for confidence, he steeled his nerves and strode into the room as soon as he was given the permission to enter.

The Germanian Emperor was holding the draft, frowning ever so often at the Ungarian Minister that had written it up.

"So, how are the terms of the alliance? I hope you find them agreeable," probed Karl, wanting to know his Fellow Kaiser's reaction to minister Henrik's document.

"A full defensive pact! Had it been a decade back, I would have laughed you away for wasting my time. But having an alliance with your nation seems to be the most beneficial move," harrumphed Kaiser Frederick, "You're not as untrustworthy as the Republic or the Federation."

"I see, very well! May we prosper together!"

With a pair of signatures, the World trembled. In the Heart of Europa sat an alliance that would shake the very foundation of the World: The Great Central Alliance had come into being.

---

It had to be destiny. Marianne could feel the butterflies in her stomach. He was the one.

Marrying the Ostero-Ungarian Kaiser would give her an edge over Louis. Her younger brother didn't deserve to inherit what was rightfully hers.

Karl the First didn't mind ambitious women and he was open to reconciliation with the Germanians. He was both handsome and prestigious. There wasn't anyone else in the world for her but him. He was the one, she must have him.

"What are you smiling about, my lady?" asked her attendant, looking at her smile.

"I've finally met him! My soulmate!" Marianne laughed in delight.

"Oh, I'm sure your father will be pleased to hear you finally have a Marriage prospect! Do you want to tell him now?"

"No… Not just yet. He's really busy now."

"I think the Kaiser would always be ready to make time for his eldest daughter's marriage despite the importance of the alliance!"

Maybe in the future.



St Gertrude Orphanage
10th August 1919


It really happened. Germania had truly created an alliance with their long-time foe. It was good to see that the Kaiser wasn't a fool and understood the importance of making allies.

Yet Tanya couldn't feel comforted. Was Being X going to just let this happen? Was this all part of his nefarious schemes? How was making the empire stronger going to aid his plans?

Actually, what has the Devil been doing? The past few years have been confusing. While it didn't exactly feel like the world was out to get her, it was still very suspicious. She had to remain vigilant.

"Curse Being X and his irrationality!"

Just what did he want? Would she ever get her peaceful future?



Schonbrunn Palace, Wien, Capital of Osterreich-Ungar
29th September 1919


Being a Noble was a pain. Marcel didn't like dressing up fancily, he didn't like socialising with the upper crust and he most definitely didn't like ballroom dancing. All of that accumulated into a massive ball of hate for the event he was expected to attend. A ball for the Nobility to celebrate the cementing of Osterreich-Ungar's alliance with the Germanian Empire.

He had spent the better parts of the past weeks practicing his dancing skills just enough to not make a fool of himself. Several weeks of arduous training under the most tedious trainer he had the displeasure of knowing, Erbbaronin Petra von Stahl.

He didn't want to ask her, but he had no connections in the world of the Aristocracy, she was the only true noble he knew. Which unfortunately meant that she was also the only one he could ask to be his companion.

Opening the car door for the hereditary Baroness, Marcel offered his hand for her to alight.

"Too slow. Not confident enough. Poor posture. Minus six points," evaluated Petra as she accepted the hand offered, "Still, you actually bothered to prepare a car and dress up properly. Plus eight points."

As he walked her up the steps of the Palace, the Baron lamented indignantly, "I'm doing my best. I was hoping you would have declined my request for training. Wouldn't you rather be hunting Peasants for sport?"

"Unsightly behaviour, minus thirty points," Petra smiled maliciously, "I couldn't just ignore a plea for help from my oh so beloved former commanding officer, now could I? Besides, they're not peasants, they're serfs."

Holding his hand out to request a dance, Marcel laughed, "A big difference, I'm sure. Prepare for your feet to be stepped on, I can't dance and have two prosthetic feet."

"Unlikely. You've been trained by my father. You couldn't fail even if you wanted to."

"I remember, he was extremely eager to educate me," replied Marcel.

"He's proud of being the very best. He's even more serious about the roles nobility plays than me."

"Is that right? What does he think about you being a Mage trainer instead of running the steel mill? Surely he'd prefer his only child to run the family business," continued the Baron, looking at all the glances he was getting. Was he that bad at dancing?

"He certainly would, but as long as he's fit to run it himself, I'll enjoy my freedom as a Mage," Petra replied confidently, ignoring the murmuring crowd of nobles that looked at them.

"Well, let's talk about your students then. If they were even half as deadly as you, our Empire will reign for a thousand years."

"I never took you for a patriot. But you'll have to hold your horses. Most of them are barely fledgelings. They won't be turning into Vultures anytime soon, some things just can't be taught out of combat. Now, enough about my students, how about yours?"

"Every last one is older than me, even the youngest is twenty. It feels weird teaching Generals war tactics. But their mindsets have gotten more flexible, some of them coming up with new ideas I could never imagine."

"It would seem that the future is bright, wouldn't it?"

Taking a bow at the end of the dance, Marcel replied, "It certainly seems so."



Space Beyond Mortal Comprehension
Time Beyond Mortal Understanding


Kysll was glad that his subtle interference had succeeded. He wasn't confident it would work with how unpredictable Mortals were.

With an alliance in existence, the two Nations would no longer be at each other's throats. All in all, a great result. He was glad Kaios had given him that piece of advice.

Peace was always preferable.

---

So what do you guys think? Peace and Prosperity coming to both Empires. Or perhaps you have something to say about Tanya's misunderstanding! Or maybe Karl the First? I'm always up to hear your opinions and ideas.



It's fine if you wish to discuss older chapter in this thread, but you're always invited to do so in my discord server instead.

 

[DualWing]

The Continent of Europa



In case people are wondering just how big a scale the alliances are.

May be subject to change. But is generally correct.

 

[DualWing]

Across the Borders of the Two Empires

St Gertrude Orphanage
2nd October 1919


For most of the citizens of the two Empires, the Alliance was a relief. Whilst they hadn't forgotten the war, the stability peace brought made it seem much less important.

But for Tanya, it was confusing, to say the least. While the two Empires might cover the same territory, they were a far cry from the powerhouse her past self described. The Alliance would unite the two Empires in times of war, but unlike a true unified whole, they were much weaker than the singular Germanian Empire outlined within the Journal. The two Nations had their own goals and much like the two headed dragon, they would often be contrary in direction.

Even more perplexing was the increasing number of Journalists claiming that the Holy Empire was being revived, an act that was sure to anger the surrounding nations. Even without help, Tanya could imagine the sparks that would ignite a War.

According to her Journal, the Legadonians would attack first, then the Francois. Both hoping to claim territory. Considering the current situation, those were likely.

However, something that wasn't was the invasion from Dacia. Dacia itself wasn't a sovereign entity nor did it border Germania, there was no chance they would attack. The Balgariya-Dacia Union was headed by the Ostero-Ungarian Kaiser's Aunt and the Tsaritsa had no reason to turn on her alliance with her nephew just yet.

If it was just the Legadonians and Francois, there was little to worry about, the Germanian Mages were enough to deal with them. Unfortunately, according to the hastily written notes, war with the Federation was inevitable, an issue that would become increasingly difficult once they started receiving aid from the Albish and Americans. Having the three powers united against the Empire was a situation that needed to be avoided.

Tanya sighed as she closed the book. So much to think about and so little time before she enlisted in that inevitable war.



Officer Cadet School Mage Wing, Berun
4th November 1919


Visha looked around the room, waiting for the lecturer to give her a response. "Was my answer incorrect, Sir?"

Stumbling out of his stunned silence, the lecturer replied, "Uh, no. Your answer is fine, Warrant Officer Serebryakova. Better than fine, even. It's just a little more complex than I was expecting."

Whispers filled the room as her classmates looked at her, muttering their thoughts on the thirteen year old 'prodigy'.

"That's pretty impressive, Visha. How did you come up with that?" asked Erya, eyes filled with awe.

Wracking her brain for a suitable answer, the young Mage frowned, "I'm not sure, it felt like someone taught it to me a long time ago."

"Interesting…" continued the older girl, adding another line to her notes, "Very very interesting."



Germania Military Headquarters, Berun
19th December 1919


Major von Lehrgen frowned at the procession of soldiers. The Ostero-Ungarians were wearing something different, gone was the pale blue uniform, replaced with a much darker shade of grey.

Observing them taught him much, it seemed like their southern neighbour had made quite a few changes to how they operated. They were much more organised in comparison to what he had seen in the war.

"It's certainly impressive. I can't even comprehend how much more efficient our soldiers are," spoke his counterpart, voicing out the same thoughts.

"I have to admit that I am glad we are allies now."

Erich certainly wasn't expecting to be working with Ostero-Ungarians to coordinate a joint military exercise. Not this early into their alliance, anyways. Yet contrary to his expectations, they were already holding their first within six months.

To his pacifistic half, all this military mobilisation was a little worrying, it almost felt like they were preparing for war. But the practical side of him understood how important it was to show their neighbours how strong they still were.

As the two infantry divisions formed up, Erich was hit by the realisation of just how weird it was that the two Nations could successfully conduct this training without any incidents. Looking at their positive interactions, it was almost impossible to imagine that they had been recently at war with each other.

Were the rumours of even greater unity really true? Just what did the Kaisers agree upon?

---

Looking up into the sky, Captain von Stahl frowned at the Germanian Mages taking part in the mock battle.

"Too slow, they were too slow, they weren't using the Dual-Cored Orbs. They're not even that strong without the Type-51s. It's so… infuriating! All our training was rendered useless just because our enemy had better technology!" she ranted.

"Technology will forever be a part of warfare. You can't be expecting our enemies to be using sticks and stones instead of guns," grumbled Lieutenant Stenberg, much more interested in the Armoured divisions.

"What's the point of being a well trained Mage if any third rate caster with a better Orb could just overtake you?" responded Petra, lamenting the injustice the world had wrought upon her.

"Well, what if you were well trained and had the best Orb! You'd be quite literally unstoppable! Just imagine what Orbs the two greatest Technological powerhouses could create together!"



Elenium Orb Testing Ground, Germania
3rd January 1920


First Lieutenant Yekaterina Dimitrova Morozova felt… slighted, to say the least. Dr Adelheid von Schugel was a hack, that's what he was.

'You're already set on your ways! You cannot give me the results I need!' the Scientist had shouted, right before dismissing her.

His eyes must be rotten if he couldn't understand how special of a Mage she was, she had been specially selected by Captain von Bastion himself! He understood her worth and he valued her!

The man was no scientist, he was a zealot! Katya didn't mind religious people, especially since her commander was one, but that fanatic was really testing her tolerance! All he did was rant about receiving visions from God while making exploding Orbs!

Adelheid von Schugel did no science, he was only concerned with the theoretical. 'Theoretically possible this, theoretically possible that'! An Orb that required perfect synchronisation of multiple cores to prevent it from exploding wasn't a tool, it was a bomb!

Worse still was his demanding and narcissistic attitude. God had chosen him to make a divine instrument, he had claimed. His design was perfect, therefore the Mages that failed to operate it were at fault. Katya counted her blessings that he rejected her from testing his 'creations', she had seen what the resulting explosions could do to flesh and bones first-hand. Not even Doctor von Brandt could fix that amount of damage.

If it were up to her, she'd have him removed from his role. It truly was unfortunate that the Germanians were willing to kill their own to make weapons that could kill others. War was a horrible part of humanity and people like Doctor von Schugel who cared not for others deserved to feel the flames of hell first hand.

---

Johann von Brandt slumped on the desk, unsure just what he was supposed to do. While the joint training was happening within the public eye, a joint military research programme was happening out of it.

Doctor von Brandt would then be assigned alongside Doctor von Schugel, each representative Orb researchers of their nation.

The organisers had assured him that the Germanian counterpart he would be working with was indeed responsible for the creation of the Type-51, a claim that had excited Johann, at least until he met the man himself.

Dr von Brandt couldn't bring himself to like Dr von Schugel, no matter how hard he tried to be tolerant. No matter how you cut it, Adelheid von Schugel was a raving lunatic, constantly spouting off nonsense about God and having visions. Bringing up God in the creation of the enigmatic Germanian Orb was an affront to science!

When he had taken apart the frankly beautiful Type-51, the Osterian Scientist found himself much more confused. He had dissected a Type-13 before and expected something similar, but they were nothing alike. From the Quality of the materials to the intricacies of the circuitry, the Orb felt like an object out of time. Perhaps if he was religious he might have agreed it was engineered by the Divine, but he was a Man of Science, he had concluded it was made by a genius ahead of their time!

One that unfortunately, while irreconcilably insane, had proven to be quite capable of proving his credentials. Any and all suspicion of falsehood was dispelled by a multitude of theories, measurements and diagrams. Besides his obsession with the Divine, von Schugel was definitely a scientist. In all his years of life, Johann von Brandt had never seen a scientist so convinced that the Divine was the solution to everything, one that believed in miracles being pivotal in the creation of technology.

Johann found it nauseating to admit, but the madman was a better scientist than he was. He himself had barely made any advancements. His latest Orb was nowhere close to the Type-51. It had two equal cores, but that was where the similarities ended. The output was tiny in comparison and he had hit the limit of computing power of each Orb. But now that he had access to the resources that made it possible to craft a work of art like the Type-51, who knows what the future held?

Perhaps he could finally stop creating bombs and start making Orbs instead. It was his duty to make sure his creations were safe to use.



Flight Mage Training Grounds, Osterreich
15th March 1920


Looking down upon her latest students, Captain von Stahl frowned before making her announcement, "You are by far the worst Mages I have ever had the displeasure of training. Especially you, Sarika. It was an absolutely horrible experience interacting with you. Yet despite everything, you have all passed the course and are therefore officially fit for combat. Congratulations on completing the first step of your training, you will receive your next posting soon."

In unison, the cadets saluted, "Thank you Ma'am!" before they marched away.

"That's what you tell every batch," Lieutenant Stenberg guffawed.

"Maybe I wouldn't have to if they were actually any good. The course is so shallow, passing it isn't enough to keep them alive in actual battle," complained the Noble woman.

"You've trained them the best you could, the rest is up to them," replied Hugo.

"The Captain turned us from eleven messes into a fully functioning Company in a few weeks, it took me two months just to train Mages qualified to hold weapons in flight."

"He wasn't training Mages with no combat experience at all. All of the Vultures had seen combat before, we all knew how to fly. Then there's the matter of the Military being a lot more strict about peacetime training."

"The rest of the army had deemed us untrainable, useless even. He turned us from nobodies to Aces, to heroes of the Nation. I couldn't even do half as much yet, how could I ever claim to be superior?" confessed Petra, "I volunteered so that I could do something for the country, but no one wanted to bring a Noble lady to the battlefield. Him? He gave me a gun and welcomed me to the Company. I have to repay his trust. I have to prove that I'm just as good as he is."

Hugo could say nothing, he was the same. Their former Captain had changed their lives. No one else in the world would have accepted a brute with a hair-trigger temper. Marcel had gotten him both a scholarship and a job that pays.

It wouldn't even be an exaggeration to say that Marcel von Bastion changed the fate of an entire country.



Military College of Wien, Osterreich
20th April 1920


"What the fuck!"

Marcel looked at his new orders for the hundredth time. Who did he anger this time? Why did they want him dead?

'As part of the joint military program, Captain Marcel von Bastion is assigned to the Officer Cadet School in Berun as a lecturer.'

It was true that the alliance had brought cooperation to the two Nations to a scale once thought impossible. That didn't mean Germania had forgotten the Wraith of Ceska. It was unlikely they would forgive the monster that sent their family members home in coffins that easily.

It was obvious what this was, a thinly-veiled excuse for what was going on: the Germanians to keep an eye on him. He was to be the sacrifice Osterreich-Ungar was giving them. What a load of crap.

As Marcel prayed for his future safety, he packed his trench gun into its case. He was going to need more than just a blessing.



Officer Cadet School, Berun
6th May 1920


Marcel scratched his head while he looked at the map he had been provided. The building certainly looked the part, but was he in the correct place?

Approaching the guardhouse to make his inquiry, Marcel asked the tired man, "Is this the Officer Cadet School? I'm not quite sure I've found the right place."

"You've got it. But I don't think I've ever met anyone who couldn't find this place. If you don't mind me asking, why are you here? Not trying to be rude or anything, it's just that we had a security incident a while back."

Handing over his credentials, Marcel answered the question, "I see, I'm the new Wartime Tactics educator. I haven't actually been in Germania for a long time, I just got invited back."

"Wartime Tactics? Man, where were you when our asses were getting handed to us back in Ceska? We could have used your help!" laughed the guard, no longer looking as tired as he did previously.

"You know, sometimes you make your homecoming a little too late. But I'm here now, may I enter?"

"By all means!"

As he entered the gates, Marcel breathed a sigh of relief. Not everyone knew who he was, perhaps he could get through this without trouble after all.

---

Viktoriya looked at the stranger holding a massive trunk with a single hand, walking around without breaking a sweat.

A Mage! Most Mages in the academy weren't allowed to use magic unless it was during training, the mysterious stranger must be someone important.

"Excuse me, is this the way to the lecturer's dormitory?" asked the blond Mage as he approached her.

"Oh, yes! Just down the hallway, to the right. That must mean you're a lecturer, perhaps on magic?" she asked, looking down at the heavy trunk in his hands.

"I wish. It would be so much easier to teach than Wartime Tactics. I could just teach a bunch of spells and call it a day, instead I have to teach important things like always wearing your helmet or not saluting your superiors while in the trenches."

"I see… still, could you teach me a few spells?" Viktoriya asked, somewhat disheartened. The current Magic lecturer couldn't teach her anything she didn't already know.

"Well, perhaps after my classes and not anytime soon, I have a lot to unpack."

Well it wasn't like she was in a rush, she still had half a year before her graduation.

---

Elena looked at the new lecturer with suspicion. Headquarters hadn't informed her about him at all besides what he looked like, not about his service history nor where he came from, yet they asked her to keep an eye on him.

They wouldn't keep her this uninformed for a surveillance mission if there was nothing special, the higher ups were definitely hiding something.

Yet seeing that Visha had interacted with him just fine, perhaps there was nothing to worry about. It wasn't as if he was a serial killer. Perhaps he was someone important and they wanted to protect him.

That made sense.



St Gertrude Orphanage
13th May 1920


Tanya had known Sister Amelie for a very long time. Quite literally her entire life, now that she thought about it. But never once had she seen the nun wear something outside of the Orphanage besides her habit, she would wear it even when she went out for groceries. It was quite a shock to see her put on a beautiful dress instead.

"Where are you going, Amelie?" asked the curious girl.

With a brilliant grin, Amelie answered, "Oh, Marcel's in town right now. I wanted to pay him a visit. Promise me you won't stay up too late while I'm gone."

Going out on a date with Marcel and coming back late? Good for her, she's always busy taking care of the kids that she doesn't have time for herself. She deserves a break.

"Have fun!" smiling back, Tanya waved her goodbye.

As she watched the nun go off into the distance, Tanya went back into her room, ready to tackle her journal once again.

"I don't think I'm brave enough to blow myself up…" she whispered to herself.

It was such a worrying thing to think about. She'd technically already done it once and survived, so logically speaking, there was no reason not to do it again. But surely it would hurt a lot… was it really necessary?

All this worrying made her hungry for some chocolate. Marcel better send some back with Sister Amelie, he still owes her for missing the past two months.

If only she could buy it herself instead of relying on supply drops. Too bad she wasn't going to get her freedom just yet. There was still a while before her rebellion against Being X truly began. The book should be enough to guide her to victory, no matter what he pitted against her.

Curse you, Being X.



Cafe Zolka, Berun
13th May 1920


Amelie looked through the window of the cafe, curious to what it was like inside. She had never had the time to visit the cafe, despite how popular it seemed. But today was a special day, she had to come!

Finally spotting her son sitting in a booth, she made her way into the fancy shop.

"Marcel! It's been too long. Why did it take you a whole week to tell me that you're in Germania?"

Going in close to give his mother a hug, Marcel apologised, "Unpacking was a mess. There was so much to do, I didn't have time to visit."

"That's alright. You chose a good place to have this meeting, it's very fancy. How did you hear about it?" commented Amelie as she sat down to admire the shop from the inside.

"One of my… students suggested it, she said her roommate takes her here very often."

"It's nice to hear that you're getting along with your students. I hope Germania feels like a much more welcoming place soon," said Amelie, much more relieved.

"I do too. But why did you want me to reserve somewhere fancy for today?"

"Marcel! Did you forget what today is?" the nun asked incredulously.

"I don't recall anything special…" answered the military lecturer with furrowed brows.

Amelie's heart shattered once more, with tears in her eyes, she said, "It's your birthday! How can you forget your own birthday? When was the last time you celebrated it?"

"Not since… not since I left the orphanage," confessed Marcel.

"This won't do. We have so much lost time to make up for."



Officer Cadet School Mage Wing, Berun
16th July 1920


Elena didn't know what to think about Lecturer von Bastion, she had never heard of house Bastion before. He was good at teaching magic, quite different from the current magic tutor the company employed. Better looking too.

"Imagine your surroundings. Try to project your mana to cover everything," instructed the Lecturer, "Walter, you don't have to force it, it should flow out like water. You look like you're going to pop a vein. Impressive work, Serebryakova. You're quite adept at this."

Not every Mage took up to his style of teaching as well as Viktoriya did even amongst those that had already seen combat. Somehow, this thirteen year old girl was a better Mage than half of the officer aspirants. No wonder headquarters was so interested in her.

"Why are we doing this? This isn't useful for combat!" protested Warrant Officer William Walter.

"Not important? Walter, this is foundational! You can't do heavier spells if you have no spatial awareness. I'm sorry if it's boring, but it'll make the rest of my spells much easier to learn."

With a frown, William went back to practicing the spell, his interest in learning these mysterious spells overwriting his annoyance.

Just what kind of spells would this mysterious Mage have under his sleeve? If he was so capable, why was he not here as a Mage tutor?

"Not going to try, Muller?" asked the lecturer, turning to look at the silent observer.

"I'd rather practice on my own time," lied Elena.

"Alright. I'm not going to force you, even if I do recommend trying it hands on," replied the young Lecturer, before turning to face his more attentive students.

Exactly what was he hiding?



Space Beyond Mortal Comprehension
Time Beyond Mortal Understanding


Kysll had been observing the humans for a while now and he could safely say that he would probably never be able to understand them. They were chaotic, whatever they did never made sense to him. Did they not like peace? They were always ready to fight over the smallest things. Perhaps this was why most Deities didn't like working with mortals.

With a silent curse to the previous administrator, Kysll considered his options.



Officer Cadet School, Berun
19th August 1920


Viktoriya stood at the gates, holding her Sabre in hand, she was now a Second Lieutenant. All her fellow 'special course' fellows had come to see her off, including the educator himself.

"I can't believe you're graduating already! You're only fourteen! My best student is leaving!" lamented the Lecturer, "Time flows so fast."

"It has been quite a while since we met. Thank you for your additional lessons, it was interesting to learn those spells."

"At least you still have me, your second best student," mused William, "I still have half a year to go."

"Well, I suppose that's true. You've gotten quite adept at casting the spells," replied Lecturer von Bastion before turning back to Viktoriya, "Warrant Officer Muller not here to see you off? I would have thought that even after she graduated, she'd be present for her friend's last day here."

"It couldn't be helped, she had to go for a special course after all."

"A shame. Now let's take that photo."


Parisii, Capital of the Francois Republic
4th September 1920


"The Holy Empire! Ridiculous, don't you think, Bianco?" sneered the Ildoan ambassador as he questioned his assistant.

"Of course Sir. The old empires should stay dead," answered the assistant, humouring his boss.

"Haha. Indeed. Empires are things of the past. Ildoa will make those foolish Monarchs think twice about trying to claim our northern lands."

"Now, now. No need to get so worked up. The Holy Empire fell to the Francois before, now they stand no chance against our modern military," chimed the Francois ambassador, reliving the past glories of his Nation.

Unamused, the Legadonian representative spoke up, "Enough chatter. We shouldn't make light of the threat they pose. Two superpowers making an alliance in the centre of Europa is bad enough, but now they're doing joint military exercises! It's obvious they're planning something."

"Perhaps we should have invited the Federation. They do have a massive shared border with both our troublesome neighbours," asked the Ildoan ambassador.

Waving his hand and shaking his head, the Francois representative said, "Negotiating with the communists is like talking to a brick wall. They'll never see things our way. We'll reclaim Arene and the rest of our territory without them."

"Norden is rightfully ours and we will take it back from the wretched Germanians!" agreed his Legadonian counterpart.

The Ildoan ambassador frowned, "Honestly. If our bureaucracy wasn't so sloppy, we'd have gotten our territory back from the Ostero-Ungarians while they were fighting the Germanians. But now they dare to claim that they're bringing back the Holy Empire? We cannot let them continue."

There was no better way of uniting people than a common enemy. Thus a secret alliance came to be, one that would shatter the fragile peace that the two Empires had created.

---

The Ildoan Ambassador's assistant slung his drunk boss over his shoulder as he made his way away from the bar, back to the hotel they were staying at.

"Honestly Sir. Drinking yourself under the table while on the job? That's a bit embarrassing isn't it?"

"I had to celebrate putting the Ostero-Ungarians in their place…" mumbled the intoxicated man, before falling silent.

Finally done with taking care of his indisposed superior, the assistant made his way to his own meeting. After a period of roaming the streets of Parisii, he came upon the bar where he was supposed to meet his contact.

Knocking on the door to the private room with a practiced rhythm, he announced his entry before sitting across the Germanian woman.

"Lieutenant Muller, how's your life at the academy? Any… Orb related incidents?" he asked as he removed the disguise spells layered onto his being.

"What. You. You're the one that stole those Orbs! Of all people that they could have sent to be my liason, they send you! Do you know how much trouble you put me in?" accused Elena, recognising his voice.

"Guess I'm not going to have that date in Parisii after all," smiled Nikolai, "A shame too, our compatibility is so high."

"You'll never be my type, I don't like men that get me into trouble. Now cut to the chase, what do you have to relay?"

"Our treacherous neighbours have made an alliance. They're preparing for hostilities over territory."

"I'll have to report this to HQ right away."

"Can I trouble you to send this to my sister on your way back, then?" requested Nikolai, as he handed over a package.

Rolling her eyes, Elena Muller took the package and stuffed it under her right arm, "You Rus are always making me do extra work. Just like that roommate of mine."

"At least you don't have to lug around drunk Ildoan men."



Elenium Labs, Germania
15th September 1920


It was the moment of truth. After countless months of development, they were finally ready to test a dual-cored prototype that would overshadow the D-61.

Staring intently through the blast window, Doctor von Brandt gave the Mage her first task, "Katya. Activate the Orb at fifteen percent capacity."

Holding the device at arms length, she activated it, trying to keep within the specified range of Mana usage.

Monitoring the charts, Johann found a smile creeping up to his face, the Orb was stable. Moving on to the next step he tried to keep his voice calm, "Now move on to twenty-five percent, no need to rush."

Little by little, the number on the display ticked up, hitting the target and going no further. With a smirk, Lieutenant Morozova proved to have impeccable control over her own magic.

"Wonderful. Do you think you can continue up to thirty percent? We can stop for now if you need."

"I'm fine! Hardly breaking a sweat! I can do thirty-five, maybe even fifty!" shouted back the excited Mage, pumped to go further.

Her excitement was followed by a steady increase in the displayed numbers. Johann von Brandt couldn't believe his eyes, they had gone past the required threshold and the device was still stable.

No longer able to keep a calm demeanour, the scientist gave the last target, "Katya. I can't believe I'm saying this. But go for fifty! I think we finally got it!"

Faster than before, the display jumped to fifty. No warnings, no alerts. Just a steady whirl of magic being processed.

Success.

Katya looked at the scientist, then the Orb in her hand, "It didn't explode this time."

"Success! A functioning dual-core Orb!"

It finally made sense to Johann von Brandt, he had been limited by the quality of the material that the Ostero-Ungarian Empire could provide. Their original "high-quality" metal they had wasn't pure enough. When Mages with a high enough mana capacity tried to activate the Orb, they would overload the circuits near instantly as the two cores desynchronised. With the alloy provided by the Germanian Empire, he had refined the Orb to a satisfying degree.

While the output of the new D-75 still didn't match up to the Type-51, there was something else that made it interesting. The D-75 would collect ambient mana and store it. It was a minute amount, but as long as the Orb was near a Mage, it would slowly fill up. The maximum storage capacity wasn't large either, the Mage could use it to cast a spell or two if they ran out during combat.

With enough advancements, who knows what wonders could be made?

Science was beautiful!

---

"Delivery for Yekaterina Morozova," interrupted a Courier just as Katya was about to light a smoke.

With a disgruntled frown, the redhead took the package and inspected it. It was from her brother. Opening it, she found a crystal clear bottle of 1916 Champagne, from the Republic of all places.

What a coincidence, there was actually something to celebrate today, unlike back in 1916. Niko was such a sentimental fool, there was no reason to be reminiscing about the life they had before the purges. That was a time they'd never be able to return to.

Perhaps it was hard to let go, but they'd have to do it eventually. The future shouldn't be held back by the past. They had lives to live, there was no reason to think about the Federation anymore.

It wasn't as if they'd step foot back there ever again.



Officer Cadet School, Berun
6th November 1921


William Walter was a simple lad, after he heard that all Mages had to enlist mandatorily, he figured that if he was going to endure Mage training, he should volunteer to get a higher pay.

He didn't expect to have learnt so many interesting things. There was something thrilling about the feeling of flight, he was hooked.

As he walked to his "classroom", he saw the actual Magical Tutor making a fuss. An act of jealousy to be sure, most of the Mages much preferred the special course Lecturer von Bastion taught.

Going in closer to hear the envious man's breakdown, Warrant Officer William Walter found himself learning something he wished he never had.

"I knew it! You're one of them! The camouflage spells you're teaching! It has the exact same magic circle the Phantoms used. You fucking bastard! How dare you even step foot in Germania after killing so many of my brothers-in-arms?" accused the raging man.

Lecturer von Bastion was one of the Phantoms? The Ostero-Ungarian Monsters that killed countless Germanian Mages? There was no way, he's such a nice person…

"Don't be ridiculous. Of course the spell is the same, I worked in spell analysis during and after the War. It's the only type of invisibility spell in use," answered Marcel calmly.

"Don't give me that bullshit! You're an Ostero-Ungarian Citizen! Why else would you have a fucking Silver Cross? I bet it feels nice huh? Looking at how much Germanian blood you had to spill to get it?" shouted the accuser, holding up a poster of the lecturer in an Ostero-Ungarian uniform.

The accused lecturer's left eye twitched, "Why are you so interested in digging up the past? Are our Nations not allies now?"

"No more excuses? Get the fuck out of Germania, Monster!" the Germanian veteran shouted, picking up a rock and throwing it at his target.

Yet fear filled his eyes the moment the object made impact… with a golden Magic shield. In a single moment, all his bravado faded.

"You're… you're the Wraith…" he cried out, falling backwards while trying to back away.

In a flash, Marcel closed the distance, picking up the cowering man by his collar, "Indeed. The Terror of Ceska. I tried so hard keeping it under wraps, I wanted to leave it in the past. To move forward into the future. But no! Some people like to dig up everything! You think you're the only person who has lost their brothers-in-arms?"

---

The Officer Cadet School was a place where the best of the best of Germania's talents studied, so Major Erich von Lehrgen couldn't believe his eyes when he saw the lecturer from Osterreich-Ungar beating up his fellow tutor in the yard.

"What makes their lives any more important? What makes them more important than any other man that gave his life up in that worthless war? Why should I answer for their deaths?" shouted the former Captain, before throwing the man on the ground, "Maybe I should make you pay for the deaths of mine! War isn't personal! Get it in your head or get lost!"

The Major rushed towards the lecturer, putting his hand on the man's shoulder, commanding him, "What do you think you're doing? Stop right now!"

"I was just recommending this fool over here to another career path. It seems like he isn't suited to be an educator, he's far too stupid to be teaching anyone."

"Your conduct is unbecoming for a member of the teaching staff. You shouldn't use violence," reminded Erich.

"Do you think I wish to? Do they think that just because we are in Germania they can treat me however they want? I thought this was supposed to be a show of cooperation, not one of subservience!" Marcel roared, "I didn't come here to be accused of killing everyone's beloved family members!"

Erich let go when he finally realised who he was holding onto, the Wraith of Ceska. Why did the Ostero-Ungarians send such an infamous man to teach at this school? Were they not aware of how much animosity he had gathered?

Marcel sighed, then apologised,"I'm sorry, I let my anger get the better of me. I'll take him to the infirmary."

The Major hoped that this was the last time he had to see anyone threaten murder here. But by the looks of things, there'll be plenty of problems for this academy from now on.

---

William didn't know what to do. The teacher that he looked up to was the Wraith of all people?

He hadn't lost anyone in the war, his father had already long passed and he was an only child. There was no animosity between the two of them, yet there was no way he could just pretend nothing happened. He might not care that much, but the others certainly would.

He had no choice in the matter. Looks like his extra lessons were indefinitely cancelled.



von Morgen Estate, Osterreich
18th January 1921


Adolphus Schicklgruber pocketed the cheque, "A pleasure doing business with you, Count. You're quickly becoming one of my best customers."

"Always willing to do business with a hero, your paintings are always in such high demand."

"Thank you, but I must be going. I need to get more materials for my next work."

He had sold yet another painting. The Ostero-Ungarian nobles were buying them as fast as he could make them. It was soul-crushing. They weren't buying because they thought the paintings were good, they were buying because the paintings were painted by him, one of the Vultures. The Nobles didn't care how bad the painting was, they only cared about the prestige.

He found himself reminiscing about the war, if the Captain hadn't picked him, would he still be eating so well? He was starting to miss his family of misfits. Maybe he should telegram them. Most of them were still in the military, a quick visit to the Ministry of Military Affairs should be able to direct him to them.

Perhaps they could even have a gathering for old time's sake.



Headquarters for Logistics and Transportation, Ungar
4th March 1921


Antonia Zamfir was getting bored of sitting on trains all day, riding up and down the same rails. It wasn't tiring at all, it was just a drag. No excitement at all, no flying, no shooting and barely anyone wanted to buy anything from her. Smuggling things had become easier, it was just that no one needed anything smuggled.

It almost pained her to say that she fitted in on the battlefield more than in civilian life. Her parents had said as much the first time she went home. 'The wrong daughter came home,' her father had muttered. And she was inclined to agree, she wasn't the gem of a daughter he once had, she had become somewhat unrefined.

She loved her time as a Vulture, it was the best time of her life. Spending the rest of her life running a jewellery store just wasn't exciting enough. The freedom of flight had opened up a whole new world to her.

Maybe she should have gone with Petra instead of coming here. Was it too late to have a change in career? The constant slow train rides were grating on her.

It was honestly a blessing when the telegram came, she missed the family she made on the battlefield. Perhaps it really was time to get the Vultures together.



Pek Bakery, Ungar
2nd April 1921


"Katalin! Come help your brother with the flour!" called out the voice from the first floor.

"Yes, ma," replied the only daughter of the Pek house.

Katalin sighed, she had three brothers, yet her parents still made her do the heavy lifting. Not one of them came back from the war with a major injury so why couldn't they do it? It was because she was the only one that had magic wasn't it? She may be a Mage, but it wasn't as if she still had her Orb. Without it she was just a normal woman.

She really missed having access to magic, flying was an incredible feeling.

She didn't like working in the village bakery. It was like being a frog in a well, she had seen a wider world and her heart had remained there. What was once her whole world had become stiflingly small. She could no longer feel content living in the middle of nowhere, her life going back to normal had become a curse for her.

She needed to see the outside world again. She couldn't stand the thought of living in the village for the rest of her life. Yet she also didn't want to leave her entire family behind. She needed a reason to leave, just one little reason.

After completing her task, while complaining the whole way, she came back just as the mail was being dropped off. Looking through the pile, she found a letter from Adolphus. He wanted to gather all the Vultures, it seems like she wasn't the only one who wanted a change in life.

No longer interested in giving a care to the tiny Ungarian village, Katalin packed her belongings and prepared to leave. She would decide what to do next when she made it to Osterreich. Freedom awaited, the world beckoned, and Pek Katalin was ready to answer!



Golden Hour Pub, Osterreich
19th June 1921


It had been a meeting long overdue. It had taken close to two months to gather most of the Vultures. It was a monumental effort to coordinate the schedules of everyone, while some members of the Company were less tied down than others, it still took several back and forths with telegrams and several letters. But now all their efforts had come to fruition, almost everyone was here. They were all waiting for their illustrious Captain.

Felix had been the first to arrive, with Katalin by his side. She had spent most of the previous month helping out at his father's bakery to pass the time, having realised that it had probably been a little too hasty to leave immediately.

Then came Petra, driven by Hugo, a lady and her chauffeur. He had basically become her butler outside of work and classes. Holding himself with more confidence, it seemed like the changes in his life had helped him grow.

Next came the coordinator, Adolphus, somewhat overdressed for the occasion, obviously showing off his newfound fortune.

Shortly after came the Twins who had met up earlier to reconnect. Like usual, Katya caught the attention of all the people in the Pub by being herself, while Nikolai skulked in the corner by himself.

Coming from the nearby military depot and still in her Uniform, Antonia was the last to arrive, only having finished work an hour prior.

Catching up had proven easy, but it wasn't all happy. While life hadn't treated them poorly, they all felt the same restlessness. War had changed them, normalcy had escaped them. Family becoming judgemental strangers who could never understand what they went through, the nightmares, the bouts of guilt. Marcel's worry had come to be, these lost souls were no longer fit for civilian life. They longed for the skies.

---

Marcel looked at the time, he was extremely late. What were they going to think of him? Bursting through the door, he looked around for his company. A wave from the left caught his attention, it was Katya.

Sitting down, Marcel apologised to his former crew, "Sorry I came so late, the cab took a wrong turn somewhere."

"You should have taken the Train, it's more reliable, there's even a stop just a block away," advised Felix.

"I know that, but I didn't want to risk being pushed in front of a train by one of the cadets. A lot of them want me dead."

"I think you're being paranoid, most of us get along fine with the Germanians now," responded Katya.

"That used to be true, before they found out who I was. A jealous bastard had to dig up the past and let the whole school know. Since then, I've had no peace. Three students challenged me for the honour of their dead family members just this month."

"Life hasn't been treating you nicely either, huh?" commented Adolphus.

"You don't get to say that! I read how much you sold that painting for! Your life has probably been the easiest!" challenged Katalin.

The Vultures looked at each other, an alliance of agreement made, they had a common enemy now.

Adolphus went on the defensive, "That's not true, Petra has more money! Her family is literally one of the four giants of steel production!"

"But I still spend my time training Mages, not selling paintings just because they have my name on them," replied the Heiress.

"Maybe I should have written a book about my struggles instead, would you be less judgemental then?" asked the painter.

A round of laughter, the dark thoughts from earlier fading into obscurity. Tonight was a celebration, to their successes, past and future.



Berun, Capital of Germania
August 1921


Reports of the recent increase in military mobilisations in Legadonia and Francois had brought fear into the heart of the Kaiser Frederick of the Germanian Empire. In response, he ordered for even more preparation from the military and urged the Ostero-Ungarians to do the same.

Soon the streets were once again littered with propaganda asking for brave men and women to join the military. People being urged to test for magical aptitude.

It seems the fragile peace was on the verge of breaking. War was brewing once more.



Space Beyond Mortal Comprehension
Time Beyond Mortal Understanding


Kysll could tell that peace was a lost cause, multiple nations had started to prepare for war. He knew this was his fault, he had pushed for peace too fast and it had brought war back. He'd have to leave this war to run its course. He couldn't afford to meddle and make things even worse.

Perhaps an inexperienced Deity like himself should not have been picked for this task. What would his brother think of him if he knew about this mess?



St Gertrude Orphanage
16th October 1921


Tanya looked at all the machinery being set up in the orphanage before turning to observe the military doctors. The time had come. They were here to test the magical aptitude of the children in search of future Combat Mages.

The wait for her turn had gotten unbearable, she already knew the outcome. Watching the objects float as a result of her pouring mana into the device didn't impress her, it only brought a sense of dread. Just like the first time. She could not avoid her fate of being a Mage.

"Above average Mana, high efficiency, how wonderful!" commented the Doctor happily, as if he wasn't handing out death sentences to the children that passed.

"Curse you Being X," Tanya grumbled under her breath.

---

Amelie looked in worry as Tanya showed signs of being a high-class Mage. It was terrifying to imagine that Tanya would end up in a similar situation as Marcel's.

It was true the current geopolitical climate in Europa wasn't looking too good, all the countries around were mobilising their militaries, it was almost terrifying to think that there might be yet another war soon.

Amelie shook her head, trying to convince herself that any war that could happen would start and end before Tanya was conscripted. That was right, at her age, Tanya would have no reason to fight.

She would stay in the orphanage where it was safe.

---

19th November 1921


The confirmation of all her worries was in her hands. The letter that confirmed her future conscription.

It wasn't an immediate death sentence, her previous life had proven as much. She just had to end the war with a Germanian victory. But to do that, she had to enlist and fight.

Penning her volunteer letter, Tanya prepared for her future. She would sorely miss the relatively peaceful life she had at the orphanage. She was going to show that irrational entity just how foolish he was being.

---

Being an educator is hard isn't it? What do you think about the interactions Marcel had with Viktoriya without them ever realising they had met on the battlefield before? I'm always up to hear your opinions and ideas.



It's fine if you wish to discuss older chapter in this thread, but you're always invited to do so in my discord server instead.

 

[DualWing]

The Devil's Education

St Gertrude Orphanage
9th December 1921


Tanya couldn't look back, she couldn't stand looking at Sister Amelie's crying face. Just hearing her words was already tearing into her heart. All she could do was give the nun a silent apology, she had no choice, the accursed entity was forcing her hand.

She couldn't turn back, she couldn't give up. Being emotional now would get her nowhere, she had to do things practically.

"Curse you being X, can't you see how much you're hurting your own followers?"

---

"Why, Tanya? Not again! Why do you want to leave?" despaired the nun as she tried to reach for the girl just out of reach.

It was supposed to be an ordinary day. The Sun was shining in the sky, all children were in the orphanage huddled up for the winter.

As Amelie watched Tanya walk further and further towards the military car, she couldn't help but think, 'why did this happen?'

Tanya had volunteered to join the Military. She was such a smart girl, she must have caught on about the war. But why would she do something so foolish as to put herself in danger?

As the vehicle finally drove off into the distance, Amelie picked herself up with all the strength she had left. Step after wavering step, she made her way back to the room she once shared with her child. Both her children.

This was the second time that the room's second occupant had left. The second time they would leave to get embroiled in a war. Why was fate being so cruel to her?

Not receiving an answer, Amelie Fortin looked at the now empty room in Despair.



Train to Berun
16th December 1921


Erich rubbed his weary eyes and stifled his yawn, lamenting at the fact he didn't get enough sleep the night before. The nightmares had recently made a comeback and last night had been particularly bad.

In his dreams, the Devil took the form of a little blond girl. He could still see the smile of the Devil everytime he closed his eyes, her piercing blue eyes tearing into his soul.

He had never met any child that looked like that, yet she appeared time and time again in his slumber. What could have etched such a deep impression of her into his mind?

As the train arrived, Erich filed away the thoughts he had on his nightmares and picked up his briefcase. It wouldn't do for him to go to work both tired and preoccupied.

Breathing a sigh of relief, he got in the vehicle that had been prepared for him. At least he wouldn't be seeing any children at the Officer Cadet School. Perhaps he'll regain his peace of mind after a few hours of evaluating candidates. Barring a run-in with the Wraith, nothing could go wrong.



Officer Cadet School, Berun
16th December 1921


"One set of students leave and another set of students arrive. What a pain in the ass," sighed Marcel, no longer interested about having new students to teach.

After the debacle with the jealous Magic Lecturer, no one wanted to join his special course anymore. Even those that had been with him out of curiosity had abandoned him.

Worse was the audacity of the bastard to quit after destroying his cover, now Marcel von Bastion had to teach two different subjects to students who hated him.

Putting down the class roster without even looking through the student's profiles, the jaded educator went to have his first Lecture with the newest of his students.

Standing up at the lectern, Marcel looked up, finding eyes full of hatred looking down at him. They already knew who he was. Good. There was no need for pretense, no need to be a better person.

"I am Marcel von Bastion, I will be your Wartime Tactics Lecturer for the entirety of your time here. For those Mages up there, I will additionally be your tutor on spellcasting."

"Yes, Sir!" shouted an excited voice.

A confusing situation, to be sure. The lecturer wasn't expecting anyone to have a positive attitude towards him. Turning to look at the voice, he felt his jaw drop.

It was a child. Sitting right at the front of his class, barely tall enough to be seen was a little girl with piercing blue eyes, her face full of determination.

Marcel didn't know what to make of the girl. She sat upright, not letting herself slouch, almost as if she was striving to be perfect in every way. She was undoubtedly a genius, having been accepted as a First Classer at such a young age, and she was even younger than Viktoriya.

Which made it all the more worrisome. Were it not for her stature, she could very well be the perfect soldier the Germanians wanted. What a grim thought, some things should be left imperfect.

Yet, interacting with her brought back a joy for teaching he had nearly forgotten, she held a thirst for knowledge that wasn't stopped by knowing his reputation. She was probably going to be his favourite student for a very long time.

Degurechaff had answers to tactical problems that no one else could envision, solutions to problems that no one could even see. She was like the Vultures, full of talent and potential. Yet there was one glaring difference, this girl knew where she was going. She had a direction in mind and was heading towards it at full speed. He needed to know how he could guide her, potential like her's needed to be nurtured.

In just one class, she had made quite an impression.

"Cadet Degurechaff, could I have a moment of your time after class? I have a few questions for you," he requested, his curiosity had gotten the better of him.

---

Tanya didn't know what to make of her Lecturer. Marcel. Not exactly a common name to have, was he the one pursuing sister Amelie? Considering how interesting he was, it was entirely possible.

Tanya noticed the unnatural pause Lecturer von Bastion took when he turned to look at her. He must have been surprised at her appearance.

He was startlingly ahead of his time, the tactics he came up with were almost futuristic. Some of them were even similar to those mentioned in her journal. While he was lacking in non-combat topics, she dared to say he was the most competent educator in the facility. Which made it upsetting knowing that almost everyone in the building was afraid of him.

His background revealed much, he was a Flight Mage commander from Osterreich-Ungar. The war hero of one nation becoming the terror of another. They described the tactics he used in the war as honourless, having resorted to hit-and-run to whittle down the Germanian advance. They couldn't see that they were the foolish ones, still clinging on to the notions of honour and valour.

It wouldn't do for her time here to be soured by getting off on the wrong foot with the people that had a say in her future. Sticking with him would prove more beneficial than siding with the other students against him, he was her lecturer for two of her most important subjects after all.

She needed to have allies here and impressing him would improve her chances of doing well in class.

"Yes sir!" she answered.

---

While looking from the back of the lecture room, Major von Lehrgen felt a pain in his stomach. The Devil was in the same room as the Wraith. The moment the two of them met, they had gotten along.

She had answered all of the Lecturer's questions perfectly, even those that were beyond his own knowledge. Her intelligence was simply inhuman.

Looking at both of them at the same time made him realise just how similar they two of them looked, from the blond hair, to the blue eyes. Did all monsters look like that?

The demon that roamed his dreams was meeting with the phantom that haunted the school. What monstrous schemes could they be plotting together?

---

Trying to get the right words out, the lecturer asked with a frown, "Why did you choose to enlist at such a young age, Cadet Degurechaff? It would have been a long time before your conscription date."

"I have no other path, sir," replied Tanya.

"No other path?" he repeated, eyebrows scrunched.

Tanya noticed his expression. He didn't believe her, but he wasn't pursuing it. She needed to convince him.

Trying to look as pitiful as she could, she replied, "I wanted freedom, control over my own life. Enlistment was the fastest way."

"I… see. If you want that freedom of yours, you'll have to work hard. I'll expect great things from you."

Success, he bought it. She had gotten some pity points with him.

"Yes sir!"

---

Marcel has worked with somewhat troubling subordinates for quite a while. Through his interactions with them, he learnt how to tell when people were lying.

Tanya was not lying, not fully. Yet it was obvious she was hiding something. The girl was practically begging to be believed, as if her life depended on it. What could make her so worried that she would risk her safety to join the military?

Marcel looked again at her file. She used to live at St Gertrude Orphanage, what a small world. Surely the conditions there weren't so bad that they had to make eight year olds enlist in the army. He still occasionally sent donations there.

He should visit his mother, and check out the situation while he was there.

Something definitely didn't add up.



St Gertrude Orphanage
17th December 1922


From the outside, the building looked the same as when Marcel last visited, no major damages. As far as he could tell, there were no signs of the orphanage being plagued by financial troubles.

Try as he might, he couldn't imagine why Tanya would voluntarily leave the orphanage. She didn't exactly strike him as one who would yearn for the freedom of the wider world either. Why exactly did Degurechaff want to leave the orphanage so early?

Still unable to fathom the reasoning behind the actions of the smartest little girl he had ever met, Marcel rang the doorbell.

Marcel greeted the nun who opened the door, "Sister. Sorry to intrude-"

Before she cut him off, "Oh, Marcel! We don't have time for pleasantries! You need to go see your mother now!"

He followed her as she led him to his mother. Amelie was like a different person. Gone was the cheerful woman that would smile no matter what the world threw at her. She was listless and pale, having refused to eat for several days.

"Maman, what happened?" he asked, rushing down to his knees.

"Oh Marcel, she left to join the army! She's just a little girl!" she began to cry.

At that moment, Marcel realised that his mother was talking about the little girl she had 'adopted', the one he had sent all that chocolate to. Finally all the pieces clicked together, he knew who she was talking about, "Are you talking about Tanya? Tanya Degurechaff? I've met her."

A shine returned to Amelie's eyes as her tears died down, grasping Marcel's hands, she asked, "You know where she is? Can you bring her back? Please, she shouldn't be there!"

"She's a student at the officer academy. I'll try to convince her to come back, look after her if she refuses."

Hearing that, she loosened her grip, "Oh Marcel, thank you."

As it turned out, Tanya was the only one that volunteered. Did she really find the orphanage so constricting that she had to leave? Even after his mother treated her like a daughter and spoiled her rotten? What a troublesome 'little sister' he had.



Officer Cadet School Mage Wing, Berun
8th January 1922


Tanya didn't socialise well with her other officer cadets, it made sense of course, she was less than half their age after all. It was certainly a surprise when one of her seniors came up to her instead of just pretending she didn't exist.

"You're that kid who is always with Lecturer von Bastion aren't you?" asked the man.

"Don't treat me as a child, I'm as much a student as you are," Tanya replied with a frown, "Now, seeing as you didn't refer to him as Monster or Wraith, I'll give you the benefit of the doubt and assume you're not here to harass me for learning from him."

"No, no. Nothing of the sort. He's a good teacher and it makes sense you'd want to learn from him. It's just that… I would like you to give him my apology. Tell him I'm sorry I stopped coming to his out of curriculum spell classes. Tell him William Walter was too much of a coward to continue interacting with him."

Extra-curricular spell classes? She didn't know Lecturer von Bastion held extra lessons on Magic.

"What do you mean spell lessons? Doesn't he teach everything in class?"

"Oh. This was back before he also had to teach Magic. He used to teach a whole bunch of us 'special spells'. Before he got outed as the Wraith of course… I hear he just spends most of his time teaching you tactics nowadays?"

"What kind of spells?" asked the curious girl.

"Well, the biggest deal was the infamous Phantom's invisibility. Honestly should have been a giveaway when he started teaching it, but I didn't think too much back then."

Invisibility? That would drastically improve her chances of survival…

"I have to go now, but I'll pass your message on."

---

Standing in the field, the Veteran Mage assessed his class, "It seems like you've finally gotten the hang of basic aerial movements. It looks like we'll be able to move onto advanced spells for our next class. Dismissed."

With rude words muttered under their breaths, the class scattered for their break. All save one student, of course.

Now that Tanya had heard that Lecturer von Bastion once held extra-curricular Magic lessons in the past, she needed to know more. Knowledge of spells outside her curriculum would be invaluable in improving her chances of survival during the war, this was a chance she couldn't pass up.

"Not leaving, Degurechaff? Don't you usually head for the library at this time?" asked the Lecturer while he packed his things.

"I want to sign up for additional lessons on spells."

"You're already the best in the class. If I didn't know any better, I'd have thought you're already a Combat Mage. Honestly, what is it with young girls and their aptitude for Combat Magecraft?" noted Marcel, frowning at the thought.

"No. I mean your old lessons. The ones you used to do."

"How would you even know about those?" The last one I held was forever ago."

"A senior told me about them when he asked me to apologise for no longer coming for them on his behalf. I believe his name was William Walter?"

"Fucking Walter," sighed the educator exaspertedly while holding his hands to his brow, "There's no chance you're going back to the Orphanage is there?"

He knew about the orphanage and was kind enough to want her to go back. Marcel von Bastion didn't like the idea of children fighting in war, this kind of common sense was hard to find. Unfortunately that common sense went against what she had to do.

"I can't go back. I need to do this, this is beyond just what I want. So will you teach me or not?"

Giving a sigh unlike any she ever heard, the lecturer turned to look at her, "Fine. I hope you're easier to teach than Walter was."



St Gertrude Orphanage
16th January 1922


Amelie paced the room, looking up at the clock ever so often. Her mind was in a mess and her body was jittering. Marcel was set to visit at any time.

Surely he would be able to convince Tanya to come back, the Military was no place for a little girl, smart as she may be. Oh Tanya, why would you leave like this? What good could possibly come out of putting yourself in danger?

The ring of the doorbell caught her attention. After a confused pause, Amelie finally remembered what she was waiting for. Almost tripping on herself, she raced to open the door.

To her disappointment, there was only a single visitor. Marcel was alone, Tanya had refused to return.

"I am sorry. She didn't want to come back."

Holding back her tears, Amelie hugged her son. He had done his best, she knew he wouldn't have given up if there was still a chance.

"Is she at least doing well?", sobbed the nun.

"Well. She's one of my best students. I cannot deny her intelligence nor her talent. She has done well both in tactics and Magecraft. Were it not for her age, she would be an amazing Mage Commander. Perhaps she understands that too," answered Marcel, half proud and half worried, "Maybe she sees it as her duty."

Her duty? What sort of nation would allow their children to suffer first? Why did Mages grow up so fast?

"I don't think I can stand to see her in danger."

"I'll teach her as much as I can. I'll do my best to protect her. You can trust me."

Hearing that brought a smile to her face. But deep down a dark thought spawned.

Amelie, Amelie, Amelie. Look what you're doing to your son… Even now he has to cater to your whims. Do you really think you have any right to call yourself his mother? What have you even done for him? You've failed to be there for him the past ten years…

Really, what was she doing?



Officer Cadet School Mage Wing, Berun
12th March 1922


Tanya spent most of her days in the officer academy at the library, occasionally having consultations with lecturer von Bastion. He was adaptable and quick to understand some of the concepts that she had taken from her journal, even improving upon some of them. Through their discussions, he had played a pivotal role in helping her grasp some of the toughest information in the book.

When he wasn't busy crushing cadets at hand to hand combat, they would also occasionally have wargames. He would always allow her to have the advantage, whether numerical or positional. He would then combat her with methods that could only be described as somewhat underhanded. Although, he would always play legally, if not fairly.

Getting him to talk about his former company proved to be surprisingly easy. Despite the topic being treated as a taboo amongst the school populus, the lecturer was very proud of his subordinates and would go into detail about their formation and successes. As he spoke, Tanya would note down any information that she believed would aid her in running her 203rd.

"Aren't trench guns illegal according to the conventions from 1899 and 1907?" asked Tanya, looking at the gun the lecturer was cleaning.

"The court ruled it in the favour of Osterreich-Ungar, it was less cruel than the flamethrower which both sides were already using. No reason not to push any advantage you have. Never assume the enemy plays by the same rulebook. The faster a war is won, the less suffering overall."

Push every advantage, that was obvious. There was one idea in her book she'd always disliked. Legally it would be fine, but could she live with being the one that suggested it? How much was she willing to do in her fight for peace?

"Even if the rest of the world will judge you for it?"

"They will judge you one way or another."

It was a shame such practical thinking was looked down upon, stigmatised for being dishonorable. It was nice that she had such a knowledgeable teacher.

---

Marcel pitied Tanya. She spent so much of her time with him that the other cadets and staff were starting to avoid her. She was becoming an outcast simply because she interacted with him.

It was a shame for someone as talented as her. She was a quick learner, with a thirst for knowledge to match. He saw the thesis she wrote on standardisation for shipping and depots, all beyond his expertise. She absorbed whatever he could teach her in moments and could come up with questions that stumped even him. A prodigy, the type that he was mistaken as. Unlike her, he was no genius, he just had a longer time to refine his knowledge.

What was most flattering was her interest in the Vultures, instead of fear and hatred, she viewed them with awe. She wanted to know how they fought, how they were organised. It would seem she really wanted to be a Flight Mage.

He probably shouldn't tell his mother that. It'd only make her worry.



St Gertrude Orphanage
19th April 1922


Amelia Fortin looked at the letter her son wrote. It was disappointing to hear that Tanya still wasn't coming back, but at least she was doing well.

The nun had gotten so attached to Tanya since the day she first saw the child on the doorsteps. Tanya looked so much like Marcel when he was young, Amelie started taking care of her as a means to forget about Marcel's departure.

When he came back, she was over the moon. Even though he couldn't stay with her anymore, he would constantly write. Amelie always told herself that one day she would have introduced Tanya as his 'sister' after she stopped feeling guilty for having replaced him. But when Tanya also left, it brought back that hole in her heart.

She had done all she could to keep Tanya by her side. Spoiling her as much as she could. But it was obvious now that she had only been treating the girl as a replacement.

Her attachment to both of them had been her world, but they had to leave the nest eventually, she had to let them go. Mages grow up so fast.

Only through a coincidence or perhaps the will of God, did Marcel meet Tanya and he was in the position to take care of her outside the orphanage. Her son would guide her daughter, that was all she could ask for.

She had no right to wish for more. She didn't deserve to desire anything else.

For now, Amelie Fortin will have to live without them. One day she'd make things right, for both her children.



Officer Cadet School, Berun
23rd May 1922


William looked at the Sabre he had been handed. He was an Officer now, a proper Second Lieutenant. It felt like just yesterday the same thing was happening to Viktoriya. It was a shame that celebrating with the rest of the class wasn't possible anymore.

He was just about to leave when a voice interrupted him, "Just where do you think you're going? Not even going to say goodbye?"

That voice… could it be?

William couldn't believe his ears, he turned around to look at the source. Marcel von Bastion. The Terror of Ceska and the best teacher William Walter ever had.

"I didn't think you'd come. I thought you wouldn't forgive me for leaving you to fend for yourself."

Giving an indignant huff, the lecturer replied. "Oh please. As if I have anything to fear. I had to see the last of my class off."

"You actually picked up another student? She's even younger than Viktoriya. Couldn't believe my eyes when I first saw her."

"She's a better Mage than you, you better practice more on your own. You'll need it."

"Maybe I'll see you again some day. Maybe we could grab a meal," laughed William as he turned to leave.

"I'll hold you to it."



Train to Berun
August 1922


Erich von Lehrgen fumbled for his indigestion medicine. Just his luck to be sent back to the one place full of monsters. Just his luck to be in personnel.

His task this time was even worse, he was to appraise the first classers as they led their juniors. One of which was the Devil herself. Who knows what monstrous lessons the Wraith had taught her since he last saw them.

Were she not so brutally effective and competent, Erich would have had her removed from the school already. But she had long since caught the eye of the higher ups, it was no longer his call.

If only the Germanian Army was more discriminating of the talent they took in. Letting the Wraith teach was bad enough, now he had to deal with that little Devil too.



Officer Cadet School Mage Wing, Berun
14th August 1922


Major von Lehrgen looked down at the square, as Cadet Degurechaff was giving her speech.

"To all of you that made it through the narrow gates to the Glorious Mage Academy, Congratulations. I am your upperclassman instructor Tanya Degurechaff."

A mature opening to a speech, one that wouldn't normally be of note, if the one who said it wasn't just nine.

"To put it frankly, our Empire is in a difficult position. So I have to demand the best from you. My job is disease prevention, removing the plague of incompetence from the army," she continued, pacing back and forth the podium.

"I am giving the incompetent amongst you forty-eight hours to quit quietly. If you take too long, I'd be forced to weed the ranks myself. Welcome to hell, rookies."

If the speech had come from a veteran, no one would have batted an eye. But this was a little girl. No, a devil that looked like a little girl. The Wraith's favorite student. The future of the Germanian Empire was dark. And his stomach was in pain yet again.

---

Marcel looked in shock as the scene unfolded. Who taught her to speak like that? The whole school would be blaming him for this event, that much was obvious. At least his reputation had long since hit rock bottom.

Another prayer for the future. Hopefully this threat of hers wouldn't be taken seriously. There was no reason a nine year old would need to have a reputation as bad as his was.

---

"Greetings, Major."

Tanya saluted Major von Lehrgen. She had managed to catch him after her speech to the new Cadets. She had missed her chance making a connection the first time he had come to the institute.

Major von Lehrgen was one of the important names in her journal, her past self had even labelled him a friend of her cause. Someone she could trust, someone with her interests in mind.

There was no sense in letting this chance go to waste as well. She would need many allies in the future.

Besides, who else could she submit her ideas for improving the military's efficiency to?

---

Fear. That was the first emotion he felt when the Cadet spoke to him. He had somehow gotten her attention.

Steadying his breath and clutching his stomach, Erich replied, "At ease, Cadet. Is there anything you need?"

"Major! I have been informed that you would be able to pass on some ideas to the general staff. I have some data and ideas for improving the efficiency of the Military. Can you get this to General Zettour? I understand that it's a little ludicrous for me to ask this of you, but this is important. It's for the future of our Empire."

The future? How foreboding. The Devil has plans for the future.

"Why not pass it through the hands of your Lecturer? Wouldn't he be a much better choice?"

"I respect him very much, but it seems like that isn't the case for most of the Germanian Military. If he was the one that submitted it, they may outright reject it without looking. However, you are different, you're well respected. They might actually consider my suggestions if you were to deliver them."

"I see, I'll give them a look through. If they are worth submitting, I'll have it delivered."

Normally, Lehrgen would have asked her to submit it through the standard channels. But this time, he had the chance to intercept her ideas and shut down the problematic ones.

The Devil needed to be stopped.



Germanian Military Personnel Department
14th August 1922


Erich von Lehrgen grasped at his hairs in agony. There was no feasible reason for him to reject Cadet Degurechaff's proposals. They were all impressive, some would even solve long known issues in logistics and supply.

His caveat was the fact that the girl seemed to think of humans as resources. Her suggestions all revolved around using them to their utmost efficiency, no man to be wasted.

It would be unethical for him to reject any of it just because it was suggested by her. None of them seem innately monstrous, much less threatening to take lives. In fact it seemed like she was actively trying to save them, in her own twisted way.

Despite all that, Erich just couldn't put his mind at ease. Was he missing some important detail? Just why was he so hostile to the Girl or even the Wraith at that matter. Was he being irrational? Why was his stomach pain getting worse?



Officer Cadet School Mage Wing, Berun
26th August 1922


"Another appraisal? So fast? There's been nothing special these days," mumbled Marcel as he looked at the visitor.

"The General staff are very interested to see how this current batch of cadets are doing," replied Major Erich von Lehrgen, his frown betraying his real thoughts on the matter.

"I see. We do have a prodigy here, after all…"

Much to his relief, besides her speech, Tanya had done little to draw negative attention to herself. She was doing well as a mock commander, it even felt like she had been doing it for years.

From the third floor, he looked down at the square to monitor her progress. Just a roll call, nothing interesting.

At least that was what he thought. In just a moment, his fantasy of peace would be shattered.

"Que diable?"

---

Tanya Degurechaff grabbed the fool by his hair, Mage blade around her other hand, "Stay still, I'm just checking if you have a Brain. If you struggle too much, I may cut too deep."

The Cadet screamed in terror, begging for someone to stop her.

A cry for help that was answered by a hand wrapping around her arm, restricting her movement.

It was lecturer von Bastion, mirroring a scene from the past, "What the hell are you doing, Degurechaff? Stop this right now!"

"Sir! The existence of his Brain came into doubt when he decided to insult his superior and disobey orders. As the health of a subordinate is a commander's responsibility, I decided to search for his Brain."

"I have to remind you that execution for disobedience of orders is only performed during wartime and only if the subordinate's disobedience will lead to worse consequences. What you are doing is an offence!"

Her voice wavered as she heard what he had to say, "But, but Sir- My apologies. I am ashamed of my unbecoming conduct."

She was distraught, she was just following what was written in her journal. Now Captain von Bastion's opinion of her has dropped. She had made a mistake, and she might even have lost an important ally.

---

Major von Lehrgen looked in horror at the scene. It was just like the first time he saw the Wraith. First it was the Wraith attacking a fellow educator. This time it was the Devil that was threatening to kill a fellow cadet. Another piercing pain in his gut, she was dangerous.

His feet had frozen in place the moment he saw the event happen. Then he watched as the Wraith jumped from the third floor just to stop her.

A thousand thoughts raced through Eric's mind.

Just what happened? Was that rampage something the Wraith had taught her? But why was he so shocked when it happened? Why did he stop her? Was that all by her own decision?

Just what was he supposed to think?

---

Marcel was a failure of a teacher, a failure of a brother. An absolute garbage role model.

He had failed to teach her properly, someone like him becoming her mentor must have given her a skewed sense of right and wrong. She had basically repeated what he had done a year prior.

Just when he thought his reputation had already hit rock bottom, it fell further. He really shouldn't have been so confident that he could teach the child, no matter how mature she seemed. How was he supposed to explain himself to his mother?

"Some big brother I am."



Joint Exercise Mage Training Grounds, Germania
14th September 1922


Petra von Stahl had always thought her Commander unfazeable. Marcel von Bastion was a confident man and despite her best efforts, a much better leader than she is.

So it came to her as a surprise when he started complaining about an unruly student. She hadn't thought he would care so much about the actions of a single student.

"Which one's the troublemaker?" asked the Heiress, looking down at the Germanian Cadets.

"Take a guess, she's a commander," replied Marcel, unwilling to point them out.

Looking for her target, Petra gasped in disbelief, "There's no way… that tiny one over there? She sticks out even from here!"

"Her name's Tanya Degurechaff. She's nine."

Hering that, Petra's eyes went wide as she protested, "You can't be serious. Those Germanians must be crazy! She's just a little girl!"

"One that almost cut open another Cadet's skull… I'm a failure as an educator," corrected Marcel, slumping further, "and a horrible brother."

A single word in Marcel's complaint caught Petra's attention. Perhaps one that seemed like an insignificant detail to him, but truly challenged what she thought she knew about him.

"What did you just say? Did you just say brother?"

"Oh great. Now I have to explain to you too."

---

Tanya looked at her 'subordinates' and frowned. They had been much more cooperative since the incident, but still failed to hit the standards she wanted.

They still couldn't accept the fact that she was only nine. How could they expect to become proper officers if they couldn't even follow orders from their superiors?

Turning around, she saw Lecturer von Bastion speaking to a woman in an Ostero-Ungarian uniform. Tanya noticed the woman looking in her direction a few times, perhaps they were talking about her.

Lecturer von Bastion hadn't really said much about the incident and honestly nothing had really changed. They still had their extra classes. But she knew her 'outburst' had given him a negative impression of her, one that she needed to remove.

Now, how was she going to do that?



Officer Cadet School Mage Wing, Berun
15th September 1922


It impressed Marcel that the Germanians hadn't sent him back to Wien yet. After Tanya's rampage, he thought that they would ship him straight back.

But apparently they were all now more afraid of the girl than they were of him. They were afraid that if he left, no one would be able to stop her. A small consolation to him and a massive blow to his self-confidence.

All the better, he supposed. Now he had time to fix his mistakes before she graduated. There was a lot of work to be done. Perhaps common sense wasn't so common after all.

Marcel prepared a letter to the one person that might be able to help him on that matter.



Zolka Café, Berun
24th September 1922


Tanya was surprised that the lecturer von Bastion would look for her first, usually she was the one that initiated their interactions. She was even more surprised when he brought her over to a café, calling it an outing.

Tugging at the civilian outfit she had been requested to wear, several thoughts flowed through her mind. This must be some sort of trade. She'd been taking advantage of his goodwill and now that his opinion of her had fallen, he wanted to review whether she was a wasted investment.

As they sat on the round table, she noticed that he wasn't sitting across from her. He had left a third seat empty, like he had made space for another person.

"A milk tea with no sugar for me, and a black coffee with no sugar for the lady. Do you want something to eat, Degurechaff?"

"Just the coffee is fine," she replied, hoping to not be even more indebted.

"One breakfast set each, then. We'll be here for a while. Besides, you could afford to put on some weight. You're almost considered underweight."

This devil! Just how far had he planned this? She couldn't reject his 'kind' offer.

"Why are you treating me to a meal?" she probed.

"Can't a teacher reward his favorite student for her impressive performance? It was impressive how you completed that Joint Exercise, way beyond what would be expected of someone of your age. Captain von Stahl couldn't stop talking about how much better you were compared to the rest of your batch."

"That's not it. Aren't you still mad about the mess I made? That's why you brought me out of the school, you want to say something and you don't want them to know."

"Haha, you're even sharper than Schicklgruber, you saw right through me! Yes I'm still mad, mad at both you and myself. Forgiveness would be given out in time. But, it's not about that. Today's break is something I'm doing for Sister Amelie. I owe her a lot, so I'm paying it back through you."

"Sister Amelie, you like her don't you?"

"I do, she's one of the most important people in my life."

"So when are you going to marry her?"

Suddenly there was tea everywhere, Marcel had done a spit take.

"Firstly, she's over twice my age-"

Cutting off his fallacious reasoning, Tanya rebutted, "I don't see how that changes anything. Both of you like each other so much, marriage is practical. She doesn't deserve to be left hanging. Make up your mind."

"Degurechaff, don't cut me off like that. Sometimes I feel like you run on an entirely different set of logic. I realise that I'll have to say it straight when dealing with you, so I'll be direct. Amelie Fortin is my mother. My birth name is Marcel Fortin."

Her face flushed red upon hearing his rebuttal, she had made a fool of herself yet again.

An awkward silence hung in the air, broken only by the ring of the bell. Hoping to escape the situation, Tanya turned her head to look at the cause of the sound.

It was the subject of the conversation herself, Sister Amelie, dressed up for the occasion.

As Marcel straightened up, he spoke to regain her attention, "I'm glad she didn't hear that. Let's just forget about it, Tanya."

Gathering her thoughts just as the nun sat down, Tanya spoke up, "It's been a while, hasn't it? How have you been, Sister Amelie?"

"Marcel, Tanya. I-", said the nun, choking up, "Sorry I wasn't enough. Marcel, sorry I've been making you do so much for me even though I haven't done anything for you. Tanya, I wish you didn't put yourself in such a dangerous place."

Holding his mother's hands, Marcel consoled her, "That's not true, Maman. I'm thankful for the ten years you spent caring for me. I should be the one apologising. Sorry for being ungrateful. You gave up so much to care for me. I am disappointed it took me so long to understand."

The scene was getting to her, Tanya tried to pride herself as someone who was practical and rational, someone who wouldn't let her emotions get the better of her. But the two people here were important to her, one took care of her back in the orphanage and the other her mentor at the school. Perhaps just once would be fine.

Going in close to hug sister Amelie, Tanya explained, "I am sorry I left, but this is something I have to do. This is where I'm needed. I'm sorry I can't explain more, but I need you to understand."

"I see… I suppose it really is true that Mages spread their wings early. Even if I disapprove of this, I can't actually stop you. I'm just a… caretaker after all. So take care of yourself, you're a very smart girl."

Tanya felt a twinge of sadness in the word 'caretaker', the nun was struggling to say it. Tanya wanted to tell Sister Amelie that she had been more than that, she had gone beyond just taking care of her. Despite the overindulgent way the nun had taken care of her, there was little Tanya would complain about.

But she choked on her words, she wasn't ready to say it. Instead answering with, "I will, thank you."

She doubled down on her conviction to win the war. It was the best she could do for Sister Amelie.

"Happy Birthday, Tanya."



Officer Cadet School, Berun
23th November 1922


"Congratulations and condolences on getting to participate in this special exercise," commented Marcel as he looked at all the equipment Tanya was packing into her field pack.

"Condolences? Isn't it a good thing?" Tanya asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Oh it's definitely a good thing for your evaluation results. But by the look of things, it will be very physically intensive."

"I'm sure there's nothing to worry about. It's just one night."

"Good luck on your first proper outfield mission."



Confidential Location
December 1922


Tanya looked at the infantry section that she was supposed to guide to the objective. Hopefully they knew how to follow instructions, her results depended on it.

"Keep low and ensure you maintain distance from each other. Follow me and make sure you don't lose sight of the person in front of you, sound off if you're unable to keep up."

---

Sergeant Lehmann I squinted his eyes in the dark forest, trying to get a good look at the small silhouette that was giving him orders. If the orders weren't so detailed, he would have thought that the higher ups had sent a child to lead them. Guess talent really did come in all shapes and sizes.

"Roger, we'll follow your lead," he replied as the temporary leader of the section.

One by one the infanteers made their way through the darkness of the forest, trying to avoid their 'enemy', following the mysterious small figure that had been sent to lead them.

Suddenly, she stopped and raised her hand, "We're almost there, but there's a lot of guards. I need you to follow the plan exactly."

She's already gotten them this far, she knows what she's doing.

"Alright, run us through your plan."



Officer Cadet School
18th February 1923


Reading the evaluation Tanya had received from her mission filled Marcel with both a sense of pride and sadness. Her time here was nearing its end, he would no longer be able to oversee her as much as he used to.

As a Soldier, she was one in a million, the pride of the army even. Seeing his best student almost ready to graduate made him proud beyond words.

But if he looked at her as his sister, it only made him more worried. She had made too much of a name for herself, she would probably never be free. She was very much like him in that regard, their lives would be tied to the Military.

Hopefully the rumours of War on the horizon remained just that. Rumours.

Marcel couldn't stand thinking what would happen if war actually broke out.



Germanian Military Personnel Department
14th April 1923


Erich von Lehrgen swallowed another pill as he walked through the halls of the school once more. Every visit only made his indigestion worse, why did they send him over so often?

The Devil had been making great strides in impressing the general staff. Despite everything, there was little doubt that she was the best of her batch.

This girl, nearing ten years of age, had surpassed classmates twice her age. Erich didn't know whether to laugh or cry.

The Devil had gotten too much of a foothold and there was little more he could do but to reject her application into war college.

He couldn't let her gain even more power. She must not be allowed anywhere near the command structure, lest she use it for her own malicious purposes. It was one thing to use her suggestions, it was another entirely to let her have control. He couldn't just leave her be.

The Devil will be sent to Norden. Where she will not be able to do anything worse.



Norden, Germania
10th June 1923


Marcel looked at the snow capped mountains in awe. Norden was a beautiful place. This was the last step in his sister's military training, it was time for Tanya's deployment training. She would be graduating if all went well. Hopefully he had managed to teach her enough common sense since then.

Once this was all over, he'd probably return to Wien. He'd definitely overstayed his welcome in Berun. Marcel had already filed for the Ostero-Ungarian Military to take him back.

All she had to do was order Artillery for a live firing exercise. Nothing to it, she'd make a fine Artillery Spotter, even if it's not the role she actually wanted. All the better, she would be safer than a Combat Mage.

Nothing could ruin this wonderful day.

---

So what do you guys think of Tanya's school days?



It's fine if you wish to discuss older chapter in this thread, but you're always invited to do so in my discord server instead.

 

[DualWing]

A Three Front War

Norden, Germania
10th June 1923


Norden was a nice place, as the Northernmost point of the Germanian Empire, from rolling emerald hills to sapphire gulfs, its beauty was unmatched.

It was within this beautiful landscape that the Germanian Artillery training grounds lay, where the Artillery Mages went for their final training. Where Warrant Officer Tanya Degurechaff will become a proper Mage.

"Angle of incline, fifty-two degrees. Angle of rotation sixteen degrees left. Ready… and fire!" shouted the Mage as she looked at the target through her binoculars.

The artillery gun below her boomed to life, sending a shell towards the target.

"Hit!" announced Tanya as the target lit up in an explosion.

A voice spoke up from her radio set to confirm her success, "Well done, Fairy 8. Take a pause while we set up the next target."

However, instead of taking a break as requested, Tanya continued looking through her binoculars, this time towards the north.

Soon, the Legadonians will be marching to their deaths. And the Great War will begin.

---

Lieutenant Colonel Anson Sue knew he shouldn't be here, there was no reason for Legadonia to be attacking Germania.

'A test for domestic propaganda use,' Command had said.

Those politicians knew nothing but the numbers on the papers, never understanding that each one was a soldier that would never see another day.

The Germanian military had not let their fangs dull since their defeat five years ago. They were raring for a victory and now they had new prey in their sights. What was supposed to be a large-scale border crossing had turned into a one-sided beatdown as the superior Imperial troops quickly responded to the operation. The Legadonians were paying in blood for their infraction.

Their communications cut, and their army in disarray, the Alliance's troops were forced to retreat. All Anson could do was cover for them till they made it to safety. To do so, they needed to take out the Observer Mages.

Flying solo and unconcealed, they would be easy targets.

Or so he thought.

---

Ridiculous. A single Artillery Spotter against a company of Legadonian Combat Mages was only worth a single promotion? If they were going to make her deal with such odds, they should have at least promoted her twice.

Loading ammunition into her rifle, Second Lieutenant Tanya Degurechaff thought about her journal; it was right about the Legadonians. Despite how poorly Lecturer von Bastion had evaluated the chances for a Legadonian success, they were still foolishly attacking.

Once again, Being X had made his move. The next step to her future was here and all she needed to do was to survive while showing the Legadonians the folly of their actions. Hopefully she wouldn't even have to detonate her Orb this time.



The moment her communications gave out, she dumped her now useless radio pack. Enemy Mages would be swarming on her location at any moment, she needed to be prepared. Taking a deep breath, she began casting spells. First a Mental enhancement spell to improve her reaction speed and a body reinforcement spell to deal with the recoil of her oversized rifle. Finally, a cloaking spell to get the drop on the enemy. She'd be on her own for a while.

---

Anson's eyes darted around, there should be a Germanian Mage here, but he couldn't find anything. They were so close, yet somehow evaded detection.

A flash caught his eye as one of his men suddenly started falling, shot from behind. Then one more met the same fate just as he turned. They were under attack, but couldn't even locate their enemy.

Even as he consulted the mana detector, a third joined the number of fatalities. Three deaths and not one of them had seen the Mage, it was almost as if they were being haunted by a Phantom.

What kind of training were the Germanians putting their Mages through that an artillery spotter could overpower some of Legadonia's best? He needed to respond to this monstrous tactic before he lost more of his men.

"Group up, overlapping shields! " he ordered, they were being pushed on the defensive by a singular enemy. What should have been a fast attack turning into a game of cat and mouse against an unseen Mage.

Based on the shots bouncing off their shields, it seemed like they were still the prey.

---

Having fired a few shots at the defensive formation, Tanya could tell her rounds weren't going to be enough to pierce their shields. She couldn't enchant her shots any further lest the lightshow the magic circles gave off attracted their attention. Now that the Legadonians have grouped up, she no longer held the advantage.

Worse still was the fact that her spells were taking a toll on her mana reserves. She couldn't maintain her spells much longer. Maybe she could use some help after all.

---

Marcel rushed down the stairs of the observation tower and out the front door.

The idiot Legadonians were actually attacking! Right when his sister was having her training. Her live firing test became a real attack on an alliance convoy. Tanya's hypothetical situation had really come true.

The Germanians in their vigilance had already counterattacked. Even now he could hear the explosions of Artillery shelling foolish Infantry.

Spotting a panicking Mage, Marcel made a request, "Hand me your Orb and your Rifle! Now!"

Only after the Lecturer took flight did the soldier realise what he had done. He had armed the Wraith in a battlefield.

Marcel raced through the chilly skies, finally noticing the wind blowing through his hair, it seemed like he had forgotten to get a helmet. What an oversight, he would need to be much more careful.

He was reaching her last known location. She should be still holding up, he was her mentor after all.

A prayer from the ever faithful, "Oh Lord who art in Heaven, give me the strength to strike down those who seek to harm my family!"

---

Anson looked at his men. Being driven into a defensive position was already taking a toll on the Company, yet things only got worse as a second mana signature appeared. This one moved faster than they were ready for, invisible like the other.

"Enemy signature coming in at five O'clock! Homing rounds! Fire in that general direction!" ordered the Lieutenant Colonel.

Most of the rounds went wide as the target evaded mid-air but the few that did hit revealed a golden shield. Their new enemy had overpowered their defence and come too close. As the last vestige of his camouflage spell faded, the newcomer commenced his own attack.

"Boujour!" said the Mage, giving the entire company a good look at his face and the wretched smile he wore.

Instead of firing a shot, with his enchanted bayonet and tore through shields and flesh in a charge. This brutal attack had instantly killed one of Anson's men and grievously maimed another.

"Et au revoir!" mocked the Mage as he turned midair, ready for his next attack.

Just one attack had broken his men's formation. Just moments before they could regroup to safety, their still unseen enemy felled a distracted Mage.

The regrouped company evaluated the second Mage now that he was no longer cloaked. He didn't even have any equipment besides his weapon. The Germanians were looking down on them. With their pride wounded, they set their sides upon him, forgetting that there were two enemies.

That change in target proved to be their undoing, the few shots that hit bounced uselessly off his golden shield, leaving them open to more flanking attacks, one of which gained purchase and felled the previously injured Mage.

A company of twelve reduced to six. Anson had no choice but to call for a retreat. The Legadonian army had bitten off more than they could chew, two Mages had halved his company. What could an entire Battalion do to their entire army?

---

Marcel squinted his left eye, finding it troublesome to aim. He had gotten too used to his trench gun, too used to fighting in close range. Giving up on trying to aim the rifle, he opted to use brute force to open the formation.

With a taunt to keep the Legadonian's attention off Tanya, Marcel made himself the distraction. With absolute confidence that his shield could handle the shots, he didn't activate his cloaking again, giving Tanya the opening she needed to strike down more stragglers.

No one was going to harm his sister today.

---

Tanya breathed a sigh of relief as her saviour came into view. She had expended too much mana, barely able to fly. Lecturer von Bastion had come just in time. Yet another favour she owed him.

All she could do was mutter her thanks, before she blacked out.



Norden, Germania
15th June 1923


Tanya woke up to the sensation of light filtering through her eyelids, she found herself in a medical bed, her body sore from over-exertion. Looking to her right, she saw her Hero asleep, slumped in a chair. Marcel von Bastion had gone to save her, against all doctrine, against all logic. No matter how much Sister Amelie cared for her, there was no practical reason for him to risk his life for just another orphan. She had always thought of him like herself, putting logic before emotions, yet he had done the unthinkable.

Her journal had never once mentioned him, not as the competent lecturer, nor the Mage that had put his own life in danger to come to her aid. For some reason, she had seen fit to blow herself up to escape the Legadonians in her previous life. Exactly how accurate was the journal? What other important details could have been omitted?

Whilst she was deep in her reflection, he woke up, "Yaww… Oh, you're finally awake. You've been asleep for nearly a week. How are you feeling?"

"Very sore, never been in so much pain before," she complained.

"That must be the physical exhaustion then. It must have been hard to shoot the gun. Good job, by the way. You fended off those Legadonians pretty well on your own. Made an Ace out of yourself too, five kills."

"Does that make me as good as the Wraith?" joked Tanya.

"Better, I'd say. I was fifteen when I became an Ace and I still can't remember what happened that night. You're smarter than me too, you'll become a Flight Mage that surpasses me."

Smarter? That was unlikely, she just had the advantage of knowing the future, that's all.

Wanting to know his reasoning, she asked, "Is that why you came to save me? Was it to protect my potential or was it for sister Amelie?"

"I did it to protect you, not your potential. You're one of my special students, you truly wanted to learn from me. As for whether it was because of my mother? Perhaps, you're basically family to me. So don't make light of it, I broke the law for you. I wasn't allowed to use any Orbs within Norden. I have to go back to Osterreich soon, it took so much begging to get them to let me at least have this conversation with you."

Tanya's thoughts lingered on the word 'family'.

Her interactions with him had paid off, he came to save her to his own detriment. But why did she feel guilty about treating it like a transaction? Was it because of his sincerity, because he wanted nothing in return? Was it something else?

"Thank you and I'm sorry."

"You're welcome and congratulations on getting that medal."

There was a hint of distaste on his last word. It wasn't jealousy, nor was it directed at her. But it was obvious enough, the man who would so often control his words had let slip his feelings. He didn't like the medal.

Tanya knew what the medal he was talking about. The Silver Wings Assault Badge. For the feat of a single Mage taking on and routing a Company, much like the first recorded appearance of the Wraith himself.

It would seem like even in this life, it was meant to be hers. With its existence, she would finally have the respect she deserved. Another step to her future successes. This time, it was thanks to the guidance of her Mentor.

Tanya sighed as she remembered what the next step entailed. More dresses. Hopefully she could deal with the propaganda shoots that were soon to come.



Train to Berun
20th June 1923


Major von Lehrgen looked in horror at the news, horrified that the Devil had somehow become one of the few living recipients of the Silver Wings. The youngest one at that. The Wraith had taught her too well, he had created a killing machine. What should have been the most peaceful place to send her had become a battlefield.

The moniker the Germanian Command had made for her was "Argent", nothing special, but what worried him was the nickname the soldiers gave her, the "Spectre". A testament to how deep an impression the Ostero-Ungarian Mage had left in Germania.

News that gave him a throbbing headache. Closing his eyes, he prepared to sleep it off.

Unfortunately, his rest was interrupted by an uninvited guest. Speak of the devil, or in this case, the Wraith.

"Hello Major, it's been a while since we've talked. I apologize for our interactions," began the Mage, trying to make peace.

"Yes… Captain. Is there anything you would like to speak about?"

"It's about my si- about Lieutenant Degurechaff, I can't look after her anymore. I have to return to Wien. With the beginnings of a war, I'll probably have to put my company back together. You look like a man with high morals, can I ask you to check up on her whenever possible? Just to make sure she doesn't go overboard, like back in the school. I know this is a lot to ask, but I don't know who else I can trust with this."

Just what was this monster planning, asking him to keep her in check? Not that it mattered, Erich had already planned to do what he could to stop any of her plots.

"I'll see what I can do, Captain. But I have to warn you that I won't be near her very often."

"No matter, thank you anyways. One last thing, what were you reading about, before I interrupted you?"

"Second Lieutenant Degurechaff's Medal ceremony. Something you're proud of, I assume? She's being lauded as a hero already."

"Shit."



St Gertrude Orphanage
20th June 1923


Amelie Fortin couldn't believe what she was reading, the Legadonians attempted an invasion in Norden? And now her little girl was a Flight Mage Ace? A Silver Wings recipient?

Amelie's heart twisted further. Not… Not again.

This wasn't what she meant when she asked Marcel to take care of her! He was supposed to keep her out of danger, not help her become a killer!

He was going to get a sternly worded letter soon enough.



Germanian Military Propaganda Headquarters
1st July 1923


"Hold still, Argent," requested the photographer, as he took yet another picture.

It was unbearable. For the past week Tanya had been paraded from photoshoot to photoshoot. She had worn more dresses in a week than she had in the rest of her admittedly short life.

Why couldn't she wear a ceremonial uniform instead of a dress. Sister Amelie had shown her a few images of Marcel in ceremonial attire, proof that propaganda could work without dresses. It would have been infinitely better if she could do the same. It was annoying that the department was stuck with the antiquated paradigm that girls had to be in dresses.

She told herself she had to endure, that it was necessary for her plan to succeed. But each shoot felt like an even bigger waste of time than the last. Just how many more pictures of her did they need?

"Thank you for your patience. We're done for today."

For today. That makes it the sixth time this week. So much for being a "hero", she was more like a doll. Tanya sighed as she made her way to the changing room.

---

Walking through the halls, Lieutenant Colonel von Lehrgen looked through the documents he had been handed.

It was nice, not having to worry about the Devil. The General staff had decided to treat her as a propaganda tool instead of sending her to fight. If all went well, he'd be on his way without even running into her.

As he made his way to the front door, he saw one of the propaganda models. A girl in a red dress. Trying to be nice, he gave her a smile, getting a shock when he realised who it was. Tanya Dergurechaff, almost unrecognisable.

As she noticed him, she hid her face and sped up, running into one of the dressing rooms. Was she tearing up?

A surreal sight. The Devil defeated by a dress.

---

Tanya wanted to end it all. Lieutenant Colonel von Lehrgen had seen her in the dress. Her pride was never going to recover.

"Curse you Being X!"



Wien, Capital of Osterreich-Ungar
July 1923



Foreign minister Nagy Henrik looked at his Kaiser pace round the room. A feeling of tension hung in the room as the ministers discussed the issue amongst themselves.

Some claimed the alliance had been too hasty, forgetting the toasts they had made during the celebrations. Others wanted to make good on the alliance with the Germanians to increase Osterreich-Ungar's influence over Germania.

"I have enough trouble with the Ildoans gathering on my border, I do not need the Germanians breathing down my neck too!" bemoaned Karl the First.

"Legadonia is too far north for us to effectively fight. We should focus on keeping the Ildoans off our lands. We can only afford to send a few divisions to hold their garrisons while they send their own troops to fight in the North," advised the Minister of Military Affairs.

"What's the point of keeping them off our land when they dominate our seas? We have to buy ships from Jugoslavija just to defend our sea routes in peacetime," complained the trade minister.

"Let the Germanians deal with the Legadonians on their own! It's not like they're struggling, they've already advanced so much in just a month. They don't need any of our troops to mobilise," added the minister of civilian administration.

Suddenly all eyes were on him, waiting for what he had to say. Deep down, Herik thought to himself, perhaps he should retire soon, politics was a minefield. His promotion was a curse.



Ministry of Military Affairs, Osterreich
16 July 1923


Marcel von Bastion looked at the mirror as he adjusted his uniform. It had been a good while since he wore the dark blue of Osterreich-Ungar. Touching his collar, he was reminded that he wasn't just a Captain anymore, the three bronze stars had been replaced by a single silver one.

Major von Bastion looked at his latest orders, chuckling to himself, "Commander of an entire Battalion, now I have to lead three more companies. Petra, are you sure the Mages you suggested are up to the task? Your best student isn't here."

"Are you seriously doubting my ability at this juncture? Every last one was trained by me and has high magical aptitude and capacity. There are no better Mages in all of our Empire, barring Sarika. She's a special case, you definitely don't want to be her commander," replied Petra.

"She's that bad? You make her sound like a liability."

"She doesn't work well with being commanded, she's too self-important for that. Her talent only inflates her sense of self-worth."

Trying to hold in his laughter, Marcel quickly changed the subject, "I'll take your word for it. Any luck with the Vultures?"

"I've almost got everyone. The only person I couldn't contact was Nikolai, not even Katya knows where he is right now."

"That's fine then, he'll show up. Didn't think everyone would be interested in rejoining, I was sure that at least Adolphus would rather have stayed a painter."

"Well, perhaps you don't know your Vultures well enough, quite a bunch of battle maniacs we are."

"Can't wait to see my second family again, it's been too long."



Elenium Labs, Germania
20th July 1923


Johann von Brandt flipped through the profiles for Orb Testers once again. There weren't any that fit his requirements from both Osterreich-Ungar and Germania. All the good Mages had been mobilised for the war efforts.

Where was he to find someone of Katya's calibre? There wasn't a single Ace tester that wasn't being recalled.

Johann von Brandt sighed aloud, lamenting the onset of another war, cursing the fact that the War was getting in the way of his research.

From the other side of the workspace, a deranged voice shouted out, "We must have her! She's the only one that can do it!"

Looking for the source of the commotion, Doctor von Brandt found his Germanian counterpart waving a propaganda poster. A poster of a little girl in a red dress.

"This is ridiculous. You can't just pick someone in a poster, you don't even know who she is!"

"She's an Ace with the Silver Wings! She is exactly what we need, with her we can make the Quad-Cored Orb!" continued an elated Doctor von Schugel, seemingly more stable than usual.

An Ace? No matter how Johann looked at it, she was just a little girl. The idea of a girl her age to be a living recipient of the Silver Wings was preposterous.

"We haven't even perfected the Dual-Cored technology yet! Stop it with your obsession! At least make a Tri-Cored Orb first!"

"Yes! Yes! That's it! That is the next step of the will of God!"

"Why can't you just do things normally?" sighed the exasperated Scientist.



Flight Mage Training Grounds, Osterreich
18 August 1923


Marcel faced his gathered forty-seven, silently laughing at the idea of repeating the past, "According to Captain von Stahl, you are the best of the best! The greatest Mages our Empire has ever seen! I have gathered you here because I have faith in her judgement, I trust that you are all Mages that can strike down their targets! Mages that can win a War! Those of you that have flown with me know what I expect and those who haven't will learn soon enough! Do you understand?"

"Yes Sir!" they replied in unison, old and new Mages united under the same banner. A grinning skull upon a crimson field.

"Welcome to the Phantom Battalion! May we strike fear into the hearts of those who dare raise their weapons against us! May we crush those who seek to destroy what we love! Phantome sterben nie!"

"Phantome sterben nie!" repeated his Battalion.

Marcel smiled at their newly adopted name. They were the Vultures no longer, they were now the Phantoms through and through. They had adopted the names the Germanians had once called them, it was only fair. Marcel had gotten used to being called the Wraith, he wouldn't change it for anything else.

For his family! Both past and present!



Elenium Labs, Germania
14th September 1923


Tanya looked around the lab, from the pristine machinery, to the testing grounds covered in scorch marks. This was where the greatest of Magical technological advances would be made… and where the most Cursed one would be too.

She had been reassigned to Orb testing upon the request of the heads of engineering upon the departure of their previous testers. As far as she had been briefed, she would be working on a joint project between the two nations.

"Nice to meet you, Lieutenant Degurechaff. It still feels so strange, seeing an ace your age," greeted Doctor von Brandt as he circled around Tanya, evaluating her.

"So why me?" asked Tanya, slightly curious to the reasoning behind her freedom from being a propaganda showpiece.

"Honestly, it was just because we needed an Ace that hadn't been mobilised yet. But after looking at your profile, I have to say that it's very impressive," replied the Ostero-Ungarian Scientist.

"Well, I'll take it. It's more freeing than wearing a dress and having my picture taken all day. After all, I'm more of a Mage than a model."

"Well, I think you'll do just fine considering you've been trained by Marcel. What a small world, my previous tester flew under him too."

"You must mean Lieutenant Morozova then, Major von Bastion talks about his company very often. I'll do my best to live up to your expectations."

Suddenly the door burst open as another scientist burst in.

"Is she here?" asked the overly excited man.

"This is Doctor von Schugel, creator of the Type-51," introduced Johann von Brandt.

"Praise the Lord! We can begin testing now!" proclaimed the zealot.

Tanya could have sworn she heard Dr von Brandt whisper something rude in response to that remark. It seems they had the same dislike for fanaticism.

"No time to waste, let's get to testing shall we?" Doctor von Brandt said aloud, changing his tune in a flash.

---

Tanya looked at the silver cased prototype, the first joint creation of Elinium Arms and Drachenhertz Magitech. With its Triple-Core layout, the Drachen Type-80 was undoubtedly a wonder of science.

Yet it wasn't exactly what Tanya was expecting. According to her journal, she was to be cursed with a Quad-Core Orb. Perhaps this was yet another of Being X's plots to weaken her. In that case, she would just have to operate on the assumption that the DT-80 would be similarly cursed.

"Lieutenant Degurechaff, keep the Orb far from your body and don't grip it too tightly. Now, please activate it and try for ten percent usage. Don't be afraid to throw it if it threatens to overload," announced Doctor von Brandt. Quite an ominous set of instructions.

Following the instructions, Tanya began channeling mana into the Orb. Slowly, the prototype began to click, then hum and finally whirl. Everything was going fine until it began to spark. As fast as she could, Tanya threw the Orb with all her might and took cover.

It looks like she had other things to worry about besides the Orb being cursed. She was going to be here for quite a while.



Roma, Capital of Ildoa
September 1923


The Ildoan ambassador gave a tired yawn. If only Bianco was still here. Damned family emergency. He could really do with a cup of coffee right now.

The Legadonian was a pain in the ass, constantly pushing for the Ildoans and Francois to join the fray.

"We have an alliance! You have to come to our aid now!" ranted the Legadonian.

"Our alliance required all of us to be on the same page. So why did you attack without coordinating with us?" sneered his Francois counterpart.

"The Ostero-Ungarians have not made their move either, there is little we Ildoans can do to aid you right now," added the Ildoan.

"It was a necessary political move! We weren't expecting them to be able to mobilise such a powerful force within a day! They don't even look like they were weakened by their previous war!"

With a dismissive grunt, the Francois representative replied, "All the more reason for your people to take care of the problem they caused. We'll mobilise once we're ready."

"And we'll make our move once the Ostero-Ungarians send some of their troops up north. Just hold on tight and try not to march any more men into artillery training grounds," snorted the Ildoan, "Not even the Ostero-Ungarians were dumb enough to do that!"

"As untrustworthy as ever."



Elenium Labs
24th September 1923


Tanya wiped the soot off her face as she coughed at all the smoke in the testing area. Yet another Orb turned into dust.

As calmly as one could be after watching their pride turn into smoke, Doctor von Brandt spoke over the comms, "Let's call it a day, I'll need some time to review the data anyways. Have a good rest, Lieutenant."

"No! We are so close! Just a little more and we will be blessed!" Doctor von Schugel ranted.

Tanya couldn't help but compare the two scientists, from the collected Johann von Brandt, to the raving Adelheid von Schugel. They were like Night and Day, it was hard to imagine that they were working together in creating something as Beautiful as Computational Orbs.

Schugel was an unlikable zealot, he could never stand being wrong, never accept that it was his creation that was faulty. He had to blame the tester.

This made working with Brandt so much more pleasant, the man knew what he was doing and would always put safety foremost. It gave her a sense of security working for him.

Having taken a shower to remove all traces of the failed experiment from her body, Tanya made her way to her quarters, almost ready to clock out for the night. Yet before she could crash on her bed, she noticed a package on the desk.

"To Tanya, from Amelie. Keep yourself warm in tough times."

Opening it up, she found something quite familiar. The coat from all those years ago. It seemed like she had forgotten quite a number of things behind when she had hastily left the orphanage.

Putting it on to see if it still fit, Tanya found that it was much less loose, yet it still had the same feeling of warmth, outside and in.

As she examined the coat, she noticed the tear that had been left behind. That was right… there were always going to be people who would try and take what was rightfully hers.

She wasn't going to let that happen again. No one was going to take her peaceful life away from her. Not the Legadonians, not the Francois and definitely not Being X!



Western Garrison, Österreich-Ungar
18 October 1923


Marcel walked around the room, occasionally stopping to adjust his new legs, "It's really nice of Doctor von Brandt to send us these upgraded prosthetics before we get sent off. Mine were getting worn out."

"Really timely of him. My hand overheated yesterday," added Katya, flexing her upgraded hand, "I kind of miss being his tester. Do you think he's made a Tri-Core Orb yet?"

"According to his letter, he's trying. Huh, I didn't know Tanya was testing for him. Well, she'll be safer there than anywhere on the battlefield."

"Stop showing off your ehancements! Take pity on us mere humans!" complained Felix as he ironed his new uniform.

"I'll have Doctor von Brandt replace whatever part you lose once that tragic baking accident happens," retorted the Major.

"Oh right! Speaking of baking… I hear someone didn't go home after our last meeting…" probed Petra, trying to get some information.

Katya smiled, wanting in on the gossip, "That's right. How's life with Katalin? I hear she's been working in your family bakery for the past two years!"

All eyes slowly turned on the bakers, hoping for answers. They may be harden warriors, but they all had a little interest in talking about love.

Katalin shook her head, trying to hide her blush, "Can we change the subject? It's kind of embarrassing…"

"Surely being engaged to me isn't that bad! Why can't we just say it like it is?" Felix answered nonchalantly.

"Well, I guess I know what to do with this bottle of wine!" announced Adolphus, out a bottle from his pack.

They were soldiers heading to war, death was always at their heels. As such, it was only right that they celebrated every little event they could. Tonight they live life to the fullest!



Elenium Labs, Germania
23rd October 1923


Tanya gripped the prototype as she began to lose altitude, it was slowly heating up. The prototype seemed to be working fine before she took off, only when she hit 8000 feet did it begin to falter, the cores had become desynchronised. The safety mechanism had failed to deploy and she was beginning to freefall.

Perhaps being X thought that constantly putting her life in danger until she prayed would get her to change her tune. If he did, she had to applaud his naivety. She had become prepared for uncertain dangers. Doctor von Brandt himself always ensured that she would have two parachutes before liftoff. Even if they failed, she would have a spare Type-51 on her. She wouldn't let the Devil get any hold over her.

As she began to fall, Tanya pulled the cord of her parachute. In a split second, her rapid fall turned into a gentle descent. The slow glide down gave her plenty of time to appreciate the view.

"What went wrong this time, Lieutenant?" Doctor von Brandt asked upon her landing.

"The Orb overloaded at around 8000 feet and one of the cores broke. The safety mechanism also stopped working, I had to cut off the mana flow and vent the stored mana to stop it from exploding."

"A whole load of failures. How do I get all three cores to function properly?"

Trying her best to console the scientist, Tanya stood on the tip of her toes to pat his shoulder, "I'm afraid that that's outside my expertise. All I can provide is feedback. Best of luck, Doctor."

---

Johann looked at the Orb, it lasted much longer than before, they had even managed to get it to fly!

He knew he was at the brink of a breakthrough, if only Schugel would be more helpful. His advice to pray for it to work would hardly have been a sensible course of action. Back to the drawing board, he just needed to stabilise the device.



Western and Central Europa
November 1923


Everyone likes to believe that they are the hero. The Francois Republic was one such entity, they declared war upon the Germanian Empire, framing themselves as heroes coming to the aid of their bullied ally to the north.

In a swift attack, they targeted the lowlands industrial area of the Empire, hoping to cripple their enemy before the fighting even begun. Yet as if they had been lying in wait, the Western Imperial forces faced them head on, quickly putting an end to the charge. Slowly but surely, the fighting devolved into trench warfare as neither side refused to budge. The once peaceful snow-covered fields turned into a crater marked grey no man's land.

The beginning of a long engagement.

Now under attack from two fronts, the Germanian Empire called upon her southern sister for assistance. In response, the Ostero-Ungarians hesitantly began sending trains northwards.

As the Ildoans watched the Ostero-Ungarian's northward mobilisation, they struck, hoping to catch the southern Empire unaware. Yet as their tired troops reached the alpine peaks, they realised that they had been tricked. The Alpine fortifications were heavily manned by well rested troops. The Ostero-Ungarians had been waiting.

Faster than their upward climb, the Ildoans were sent retreating downwards as the Ostero-Ungarian Mages established their superiority over the Alpine air.

Historians would forever remember these days as the beginning of the Great War. A War that shook the Continent to its very core.

As for Tanya? Well, it was just the beginning of an illustrious military career.



Space Beyond Mortal Comprehension
Time Beyond Mortal Understanding


Kysll could feel the world fall back into chaos as the war truly began. A searing pain spread through him as if to remind him that he was failing at the one task he was required to do.

Some of the greatest Mortal Nations were embroiled in the war and perhaps even more would soon follow. How could mortals stand to be so violent?

How could he possibly end this war anytime soon?



Western Front, Germania
22nd November 1923


Second Lieutenant Serebryakova looked out of the trenches at the Francois lines, then at her platoon. They were already tired, barely holding on. Unlike her, this was their first time seeing action.

"Commander, I heard you were a veteran… but how are you still in such good shape? We've been in combat non stop," asked one of her subordinates, trying to catch his breath.

Viktoriya couldn't answer that question. How was she supposed to tell them that she felt most at peace on the battlefield? Even Erya couldn't wrap her head around that idea. It was a surreal feeling, for a girl to be so enthralled by the sight of a battlefield.

"I'm not sure. Anyways, we have time for a short break, get something to eat or drink. We'll be moving out again soon."

The War was already taking a toll on the Mages as they served as the keystone of every mission. Hopefully the promised reinforcements came soon.

Taking a bite out of a boiled potato, Viktoriya couldn't help but exclaim how good it tasted. Much to the confusion of her subordinates.

---

Sergeant Erik Lehmann held his breath as he aimed his rifle. With the pull of the trigger, another Republican soldier met their maker.

For once in his life he wasn't the one fearfully crawling in the trenches. The Francois Mages weren't even remotely as terrifying as the Phantoms were. They didn't have anything close to the Flame Witch after all.

Their Mages weren't as tough as those on the Germanian side, but there were some heavily armed Mages riding on mechanical horses. Watching them get blown up for being such large targets gave Erik a morale boost.

Ducking back down in the trenches, he lit a cigarette. If he was going to be spending quite a while here, he might as well make himself comfortable.

If only the food here wasn't so bad, he might actually be able to last a year! A man could only dream.



Ildoan Front, Osterreich-Ungar
26th November 1923


"And that makes me an Ace of Aces!" laughed Katya as she finally confirmed her fiftieth Mage kill.

"Took you long enough! You're a few years too slow!" joked Felix.

"Please be careful. I know that they're not as tough as a Germanian Mage, but that doesn't mean they aren't dangerous," requested Marcel as he tried to keep his Battalion in check.

The Phantoms were having the time of their lives, rampaging to their heart's content. With the knowledge that they had aerial supremacy, they took to the skies, crushing the well trained but poorly equipped Ildoan Mages.

The Ildoans had trained their Mages in accordance to Albish standards, a fact that should have made them a threat. The only issue was that due to logistical oversights, they did not have standardised equipment. A problem that led to an inability to properly participate in aerial combat. It was honestly a shame that the Phantoms couldn't even utilise their famous hit-and-run tactics.

With the Ostero-Ungarian Mages dominating the sky, the Ildoan Mountain infantry had become sitting ducks. Tired from their mountainous treks and unable to fight back with their mess of unstandardised equipment, they had little success in their upwards charge.

As their enemy foolishly tried to climb, the Ostero-Ungarian defenders waited for them from their fortifications. Holding a defensive line instead of advancing, they forced the Ildoans to come to them. No Ildoan will pass the mountains.

The General staff had estimated that Ildoan bombers would be the greatest threat to this strategy and they bombarded the trenches and fortifications. Unfortunately for them, with the Type-51s provided by the Germanians, the Phantoms had gained the ability to consistently strike down their high flying foes. The sky was no longer the limit to these elite Mages.

Their enemies had once again underestimated them, a fatal mistake. Just because they had a long history of losing wars didn't mean that they would repeat it. The Two Empire War should have proven as much. Osterreich-Ungar would only get stronger.

Long live the Kaiser!



Imperial Shooting Range, Berun
9th December 1923


Princess Marianne had very little interest in most sports that the Nobility took part in. Yet there was one that held her attention, shooting.

Even as a child, she had an inordinate love for the rifle, she would beg her father to take her along whenever he went hunting. And who was he to deny his only daughter what she wished for?

As the years went past Marianne grew ever closer to her gun, ever so often visiting the shooting range. Even after the birth of both her brothers she would still accompany the Kaiser when he went hunting.

Yet there was a few things her father would never give her. First was her claim to the Throne and second was allowing to marry the one she wished.

She had suggested the marriage as part of solidifying the Alliance between the two Empires. An idea that Kaiser Frederick would not stand for, how could he let that upstart Monarch from the south have his daughter?

It was regrettable her father was so against the idea of her solidifying the alliance through marriage. There were so many things she could do if she joined forces with Kaiser Karl. Why couldn't anyone understand her love?

Marianne pulled the trigger and hit her target right in the bullseye.

She could crush Otto and reclaim her birthright.

As she was reloading her rifle for her second round, she was interrupted by one of her 'eyes'.

"Your Highness! The crown prince has announced that he would be making a trip to the Western Front!"

"Otto managed to convince father to let him visit the Western front?" asked Princess Marianne incredulously. Her younger brother was once again getting in her way.

"The Crown Prince is trying to improve his reputation with the people," answered her informant.

"Father would never let me do the same. There's only so much popularity to be gained by investing my own funds into the war effort. I am so sick of Otto! Why can't he just let me have what is rightfully mine?" lamented the Princess as she tried to figure out her next step.

"I need to convince father to let me marry Karl!"



Western Front, Germania
20th December 1923


Getting off the transport and lugging her oversized field pack, Tanya struggled to the command tent. They were treating her inhumanely, letting one of her size suffer like this.

She would have liked working with Doctor von Brandt longer, despite the dangers she had been put through. It was unfortunate that the Orb test had ended prematurely, but the higher-ups had decided that it was time to field test the prototype. The device they had given her was functional but unrefined and she was expected to note down any possible improvements that could be made during testing.

The DT-80 Orb was a mystery. It was very much just an advanced Orb, nothing like the weapon of mass destruction that was described in her journal, the Type-95. Even though she had evaded Being X's ploys to force her to pray, she still ended up with an Orb that had unknown qualities. All she knew was that it was unlikely to blow up in her hands again, but whether it would be detrimental to her mind? She had no clue. Her first course of action would be to get a more reliable Orb as a backup.

Considering the many differences she had experienced from what was stated in the journal, she couldn't help but wonder just how different was this world compared to the one of the past?

Yet there was no time to think about that, she had to prove her worth for the next step. She needed to get into war college. She needed to bring the 203rd together.

The fate of the Empire depended on it.

---

So what do you guys think about the politics of the different Nations? How about your thoughts on Princess Marianne?

I honestly wanted to reference the weird Ex:1 manga chapter during the propaganda scene, but I held off.

It's fine if you wish to discuss older chapter in this thread, but you're always invited to do so in my discord server instead.

 

[DualWing]

All Quiet in the West

Western Front, Germania
22nd December 1923


Tanya reviewed her journal while in her tent, occasionally tugging at the loose threads of her sweater.

Making allies was an important thing no matter where you work, even more so when your profession requires you to dance with death on a daily basis.

Consulting her journal, Tanya could only identify two people who she could consider likely allies.

First was her current Company Commander, First Lieutenant Ihlen Schwazkopf of the 205th Assault Mage Company. As described in her journal, he was a superior that understood the importance of talent, someone Tanya would happily work under. He was capable if a bit orthodox and by the book.

Getting along with her superior was simple enough, Tanya just had to show her professionalism. He was also one to make jokes, even in tough times, but perhaps the best part of the deal was that he didn't really care about her negative reputation as a Student of the Wraith either.

The Second was Second Lieutenant Viktoriya Serebryakova. She was very much different from what the journal had described. It was true that she would meet Viktoriya for the first time on this very battlefield, but she was not a Corporal nor new to war; she was a fellow Platoon Commander of the 205th and a veteran from the Two Empire War.

Yet if there was one thing that remained unchanged, it would be the fact that Lieutenant Serebryakova was still easy to befriend, with her amiable personality. They got along really well, Viktoriya even asked her to do away with the formalities and just call her Visha.

But perhaps the best part of their friendship was the coffee. Somehow, on this desolate and cold frontline, Visha had the resources to make the most Heavenly cup of coffee. No wonder her past self wrote so highly of her skills.

On the other hand, Tanya's subordinates were… inexperienced, to say the least. Cadets fresh out of the corps. Harald von Vist and Kurst von Walhorf were volunteers, while Frida Stein was a conscript.

The moment she saw the pair of Nobles, she knew what she was dealing with. She had seen plenty of those like them during her time as an Officer Cadet. Glory hounds, a drain upon the Empire's resources unless she could reform them.

"I see we have a pair of volunteers in our midst. I hope you didn't expect to be treated as heroes for volunteering to fight for our beloved Nation. I have no time to entertain any delusions of grandeur you may have and the Fatherland doesn't have the resources to keep feeding the useless. I expect you to do your best without the need for recognition."

The look of contempt in their eyes as she gave her speech didn't give her much hope for improvement. But perhaps their defiance could still be beaten out of them before they got anyone killed.

"As for you, Corporal Stein, you have my respect for fulfilling your obligations, stick with me and I'll do my best to keep you safe."

"Yes Ma'am!" replied the conscript.

"Now does anyone know how to make coffee?"

Silence. It seemed like she'd have to continue to subsist on Lieutenant Serebryakova's kindness instead. She'd need a good cup of coffee before she got on to writing her letters to Amelie and Major von Bastion.

---

Frida sat at the campfire, trying to figure out a way to make her rations marginally more edible.

A sudden shout from the tents almost caused her to drop her can of beans. As she regained her composure, she realised the cause, it was her fellow platoonmates.

"That fucking brat thinks she can just order us around because she's a higher rank? Does she even know who she's talking to?" complained Kurst, throwing his cap on the ground.

"Careful now. She may look like just a kid, but she's apparently pretty well known for her violent personality. I heard she tried to kill one of her underclassmen," answered Harald, taking a seat at the fire.

Angrily picking up his cap, Kurst joined his platoon mates at the fire, "I know who she is! Everyone knows who she is. The Wraith's best student, youngest living recipient of the Silver Wings and the fucking Spectre!"

"What do you mean? Surely she can't be that bad? She's a Hero!" Frida asked, unaware her commander had such a reputation.

"Don't be fooled by what the higher ups say, she's a monster just like her teacher!"



Elenium Labs, Germania
29th December 1923


"Why did you send such a blessed tester away? How can we create the Divine instrument now?" questioned Adelheid von Schugel, holding up his plans for a Quad-Core Orb.

Johann von Brandt retorted angrily, "You know why! I couldn't keep letting you put her in danger! Why were you disabling the safety systems of the prototypes?"

"Only when she faces true danger and opens her heart to The Lord can she truly aid in the creation of a divine artifact!" answered the crazed man.

Doctor von Brandt had no clue what new madness his colleague was spouting, but there wasn't a single doubt within his mind. Adelheid von Schugel was just a madman.

Throughout the entire testing process for the DT-80, Doctor von Schugel had been almost religiously sabotaging the safety features of the Orb in his still unexplained obsession. Time and time again, he had put Tanya in danger.

Yet despite all the evidence he provided on the Germanian Scientist's obsessive mental state, the higher ups refused to do anything. They were unwilling to punish the creator of the Type-51.

Johann had to take matters into his own hands. While he couldn't keep Schugel from tinkering with the Orb, he would always try to repair any damage before a test. Occasionally some damage would skip his notice, but that was where the extra parachutes and spare Orbs came in. A fact that Degurechaff seemed to appreciate.

It was honestly a relief when the Orb passed the threshold and was considered functional. Using all the remaining resources at his disposal, including both his and Major von Bastion's reputations, he finally convinced the Germanian command that the prototype was ready for a field test.

Working with Doctor von Schugel was stressing him out, his hair was already turning white. Working with that madman was going to be the death of him!



Ildoan Front, Osterreich-Ungar
31st December 1923


Marcel shivered as he held the letter opener, trying to weather the cold of the Mountains. Even now, he hadn't gotten used to chilly climates. Gingerly he opened the first of his two letters, the one from his mother.

While the letter was short, it held much emotional weight. His mother was checking up on his health, asking if he was eating well. Without a single mention of Tanya's impressive entry into the world of Aerial Combat, it seemed like she was no longer mad. Perhaps this was a sign that Tanya was also writing to her.

Marcel opened the second letter, this one straight from the western front, penned by Tanya herself. He chuckled to himself as he learnt that there wasn't a single line asking about how he was doing. Even now, Tanya still treated him like a teacher, her letter was full of ideas waiting for his review.

As usual it took him a while to properly decipher the strategies that lay in her diagrams and her words. None of them were inherently useful for his current situation, but they definitely couldn't be ignored.

It was honestly a little surprising that the Ostero-Ungarian mail services were still able to deliver letters to and from Germania. In the previous war, even the internal mail system had broken down.

Finally ready to write, Marcel quelled his shivering with a warming spell. With pen in hand, he wrote about his experiences in the frigid Highlands and his occasional forays into the aims below. Soon enough, the letters were filled with his many successes and none of his failures. What good was writing a letter if it only served to worry them further?

As he gave the letters one last read through, a head of red hair popped into the tent. It was Katya, back from her smoke break, "Major, what are you up to?"

"Writing to my family before the war gets too bad. It is new year's eve, after all," he replied, sealing the letters.

"Two letters? Must be that little sister of yours. Hmm. I would love to have a younger sister."

"Maman took care of Tanya as best she could. She's very smart and one hell of a Mage, pretty much my most talented student. Yet hearing that she's serving on the Rhine front…" answered Marcel, trailing off at the thought.

"You still worry about her."

"I don't want to. But no matter how much of a prodigy she is… she's still in one of the most dangerous places in the world."

"I'm sure if she's even half as good as you make out to be, she'll do fine. Join us for Hugo's birthday celebration, the rest of the Phantoms are waiting."

"Right, may the Lord protect her."



Western Front, Germania
2nd January 1924


Sergeant Lehmann covered his ears as he tried in vain to fall back asleep. Even when out of the trenches, he was unable to get a good rest. If he had his way, he'd have all the artillery silenced.

Why couldn't things stay as calm as they were just a few days ago? The unofficial truce for Christmas and the New Year was probably the best he had slept. But now that the celebratory mood was gone, the carnage had returned.

As for the 'Hero Mage' from Norden? Erik Lehmann didn't think much of her either. Whether they called her the Argent or the Spectre, she was probably going to end up like the rest of Germania's so called 'Heroes', unless the girl really lives up to her name as 'The Wraith's favourite student'.
Perhaps then, he might actually hope she ends the war as fast as he did the last one.



St Gertrude Orphanage
10th January 1924


Sister Amelia read through the recent letters she received from both her children. It was good to hear that they were doing well, even if she couldn't see them.

It was already a painful feeling to have to see them both fighting in a war. Knowing that both of them would have spent their childhood fighting wars that shouldn't have concerned them was even more painful.

At least they were both capable and could take care of themselves. Or that was what she told herself.



Western Front, Germania
13th January 1924


Frida scrubbed as hard as she could, hoping to get any remnants of blood off her skin. While her body worked on the monotonous task of hygiene, her mind drifted off to thoughts on her Platoon.

Frida had never been good at making friends. Ever since she was a child she had difficulty bonding with other kids, they could never understand her love for theatre, they didn't like it when she acted out her favourite roles.

Even now, she couldn't socialise with her platoonmates, even after all their life and death experiences together. Harald and Kurst still looked down on her. They didn't like that Lieutenant Degurechaff would slow down whenever she couldn't keep up, they saw her as a burden.

Finally done with washing blood off herself, Frida crashed onto her bed and prepared to shut her eyes. She didn't want to see another corpse, but even if she couldn't see the deaths, she could certainly hear it, feel it. Gunshots, explosions, screams of pain.

Clearing out the enemies that made it into the trenches was hard enough. She only managed to kill two Francois soldiers the first time, screaming the moment blood splattered on her face. Her Platoon commander ended up doing all the work. While she was puking her guts out in stress, Lieutenant Degurechaff complimented her on managing to stay alive.

Frida could still remember her exact words, 'War is terrible, isn't it? That's good, then fewer people will want it.'

Turning her head across the tent, Frida looked at her already sleeping commander all huddled up in her oversized coat. It was only in times like this that Frida could pretend Lieutenant Degurechaff was just a normal girl.

It was such a sad thought, that a ten year old girl could be so at home on a battlefield. There was something wrong about that, no matter what the propaganda said, no matter how sensible she acted.



The Alps
14th January 1924


The Ildoan soldier looked at the carnage around him, from burning corpses of once brave Ildoan men to shattered bombers once thought too high for a Mage to intercept.

He shivered, not just from the cold, but also in fear of what was coming soon. He knew what was going to come next, another charge upwards to their deaths. The Flight Mages that Ildoa was so proud of were being utterly crushed by invisible Mages! Like apparitions, the Mages would only leave a trail of corpses before disappearing again.

Their morale couldn't be lower. They had to brave the cold as their supplies dwindled. They had to follow the orders of foolish commanders, making suicidal charge upon suicidal charge against an unmoving enemy.

The Ostero-Ungarians didn't try to capture any ground after an Ildoan retreat. They would sit in their fortifications, mocking them every time they returned. Any ground gained through luck was quickly lost as the Mages would focus their firepower in reclaiming their ground.

The army that once outnumbered their enemies three to one was taking immeasurable losses. They couldn't possibly hold on for any longer. Their enemies ruled the mountains and he probably wasn't going home alive.



Western Front, Germania
17th February 1924


"I have no use for soldiers who can't follow orders! If you want to die a hero, I'll have you sent somewhere else!" screamed Lieutenant Degurechaff.

"You can't just expect us to hide and shoot our enemies in the back! Fighting like cowards!" replied Corporal von Walhorf.

"Would you rather go head to head with a full company of Mages? Three times our numbers? I didn't think you were that suicidal!"

"Don't think just because you had the Wraith backing you back then, you can throw your weight around now!" accused the Corporal.

"The Wraith? Yes he mentored me. Let me tell you the story about the only time I angered him. I had tried to forcefully correct a disobedient fool with violence. He stopped me," her grip tightened around the hilt of her Sabre, pulling it slightly out of its scabbard, "and told me that execution for disobedience was a wartime punishment."

The Corporal's eyes jumped between the Lieutenant's face and her sword finally realising what she was implying.

However she sheathed the blade, "But he also taught me that every soldier has a place in the military. Yours will be far away from here, where you can't cause any deaths but your own. You can go die a hero there."

Turning to her two remaining subordinates, she continued, "How about you, Corporal von Vist? I hear you've also voiced your dissatisfaction with me. Perhaps you want to join him as well?"

With her threat, the platoon of four was reduced to just two.

---

Second Lieutenant Serebryakova looked at her colleague from afar, shocked by her willingness to threaten her subordinates. She hadn't expected such a young girl to have the ability to be so aggressive.

When they first met, Viktoriya felt a connection. Perhaps it was the fact that both of them had enlisted at a young age. The feeling Tanya gave was very much like the pull the battlefield had on her, a sort of comfort in war. Quickly, the two of them had become fast friends, with Tanya quickly taking to calling her Visha.

It was honestly terrifying that Lieutenant Degurechaff was so efficient, so mature. Almost nothing she did seemed to fit her stature. Was it because the Wraith was her mentor?

Viktoriya was glad that she hadn't met the Wraith during her time at Officer Cadet School. Instead she had the much less threatening Lecturer von Bastion.

Although she still occasionally felt the pain in her ribs whenever she thought about the Ostero-Ungarian Ace, she didn't hold a grudge. It wasn't personal after all, it was just... War.

Would the Wraith feel the same way? Surely someone as monstrous as that would want vengeance.



Space Beyond Mortal Comprehension
Time Beyond Mortal Understanding


Kysll winced as yet another crack formed on his arm. With more Nations entering the fray, the War was only going to get worse. The souls of the many soldiers were already lining up for their reincarnation, adding to his workload.

He was stressed beyond measure with no one else to blame, he had brought it upon himself. If only he had been able to prevent this war.



Ildoan Front, Osterreich-Ungar
28th March 1924


"What I wouldn't give to be deployed somewhere warmer. Why do the Ildoans keep insisting on charging up the mountains?" complained Felix while huddled in layers upon layers of blankets.

"We've insulted their pride and they are willing to sacrifice their men to get it back. A poor investment, if you ask me," added Antonia while she crept closer to the heater.

"And they're making all of us pay for it! I'd kill a thousand more of them if it'd get me out of the mountains," declared Katalin as she rubbed her hands together.

"Spoken like someone who's never run through the snow during a Rus winter. This is nothing," mocked Katya, dressed lighter than the others.

"Can all of you just shut up? I don't want to hear anything more about the weather!" demanded Petra, the chill doing nothing to cool her temper.

"Why? Is the cold ruining your Noble complexion?" asked Marcel, walking in with military orders in hand, "In that case, I have good news for all of you. Pack your equipment, we're being redeployed to the Adriatic, we have a Navy to terrorise."

In unison everyone in the tent exclaimed, "Praise the Lord!"



Western Front, Germania
3rd April 1924


Crown Prince Otto had never been on a battlefield before. Sure, he had participated in plenty of military exercises before, but those were in the comfort of Berun.

It was only when his boots sunk into the mud that he realised he was perhaps a little too spontaneous in his trip. He thought he had mentally prepared himself for what he was seeing, but he was wrong. He wasn't prepared to see the injured and he certainly wasn't prepared to see the dead.

But there was little that could be changed now, he had come here to raise the morale of the troops and so he would. What better way than a walk through the trenches and a photo op with some of the soldiers? Surely he would be in safe hands under the protection of the best of the Germanian Military, their Mages were unparalleled after all.

He should have a picture taken with one of their Aces while he was at it. What did they call her? The Spectre?

---

Tanya looked at her latest orders incredulously. She could read every word written down individually, but she didn't understand the whole thing. Were they seriously relegating her to babysitting the Crown Prince? Even on the battlefield she couldn't escape being treated as a piece of propaganda.

With a sigh, she called for her wingman, "Corporal Stein, I have bad news and horrible news. Which do you want to hear first?"

"Can I pretend that there's no news and go back to having breakfast?" asked Frida, unwilling to look her commander in the eye.

"Unfortunately not. This concerns you," laughed Tanya, taking the comment as a joke.

"The bad news first," sighed Frida.

"This will be our toughest job yet."

"How big is the enemy force?"

"That's the horrible news. We're not fighting anyone, we just have to protect the Crown Prince!"

"What?"

---

Otto looked at his entourage of Mages, there were half a dozen of them. It would have been quite reassuring if one of them wasn't a literal child. He had certainly heard that the Ace was a prodigy, but he wasn't expecting her to be a child genius.

Was the situation at the front so bad that they had to use child soldiers already? From what he had learnt, they were supposed to be doing well. Perhaps he shouldn't have sent away his guards that quickly.

The diminutive Ace stepped forward and bowed, "Greetings, Your Highness. We Mages of the 205th Company will be your guards for your time here at the headquarters."

"A pleasure, but I want to see the trenches," he plainly told them his simple request.

Otto realised something was up the moment the Mages winced in unison. As he looked back at the Spectre, he swore he saw her face quickly change from a frown of annoyance into a forced smile.

"Are you sure? It's much better if you stayed with field command."

"I have to raise the morale of the troops! I can't do that effectively when I'm hiding in the back far from the suffering Germanian men!"

Once more a frown formed on the girl's face, "Not with that cap. If you're taking a stroll on the trenches you're going to wear a helmet. Corporal Stein, get His Royal Highness the cleanest helmet you can find."

As he watches the Corporal run off, Otto conceded, "Very well, I'm not unreasonable. Marianne did tell me to stay safe."

"That's good advice. Try not to make yourself look too important, Your Highness. We don't want any Francois snipers getting any funny ideas," continued the Ace before she looked at her fellow Second Lieutenant, "Visha, thanks again for assisting with the aerial lookout."

"No problem, I'm always ready to help," replied the Brunette.

Otto watched in awe as four of the Mages took off, fading into the sky. Looking back to the ground he saw the Corporal running back with a less than new helmet.

"You cannot be serious."

---

Tanya couldn't help but feel nervous. Every vein in her body was screaming that this was a bad idea. She didn't need to be told what would happen if she messed this up. Forget going to War College, she'd be rotting away in a cell forever.

She looked up at the sky searching for any movement from Francois Mages. Confident that there were no looming threats at the moment, she looked back at the Crown Prince as he tried his hardest not to wave at the soldiers in the trenches. How could someone be so nonchalant about the looming threat upon his life?

Just as she was about to resume her lookout, she heard the unmistakable sound of metal grinding against metal. In a single moment, the Crown Prince had fallen backwards.

Jumping into action and bringing up her shield, Tanya alerted her fellow Mages, "Possible Sniper! High alert!"

As Frida moved in to cover her back, she checked on the dazed Prince. There was a shallow mark on his helmet, a bullet had grazed it. The Crown Prince was unharmed, if a bit muddy.

Tanya breathed a sigh of relief, it was a good thing she asked him to wear a helmet.

"I think I should go home," croaked the Royal, wiping the mud off his face.

"Frida, support his other side. We're going to fly as fast as we can to field command," ordered Tanya, taking charge of the situation.

"Roger. Excuse me, Your Highness," replied the Corporal as she put herself under his right arm.

"We'll be taking off now, Your Highness," Tanya informed.

---

Being in the air was something Otto had always wanted, perhaps he would have enjoyed the flight more if his mind wasn't in such disarray.

There were too many thoughts in his mind. Marianne was right, he shouldn't have come here, it was far too dangerous. Despite her somewhat rude manner of speech, the Spectre had saved his life, he should reward her for getting him to wear a helmet.

But first, he should definitely go back to Berun.



Imperial Palace, Berun, Capital of Germania
6th April 1924


Marianne gripped the letter in anger, it was a simple task. All the idiot had to do was take one shot and he failed! With that chance wasted it was going to be a long time before Otto let his guard down again.

"Your Highness, the Crown Prince has arrived," announced her retainer.

With a sigh, the Princess threw the letter into the fireplace and headed for the hall to 'welcome' her brother home. She hadn't even made it through the doorway before Otto embraced her.

"Otto, you're not a child anymore. You're old enough to get married already," exclaimed Marianne exasperatedly while she tried to slide out of the hug.

Hugging his sister tighter, the Crown Prince began to tear up, "Marianne, I should have listened to you. You were right, you're always right."

"Oh dear, what happened?" she asked, feigning ignorance.

As Otto recounted every detail of his unfortunate trip to the Western Front, Marianne couldn't help but be impressed by the talented Mage that had foiled her plan.

Perhaps she should reward the girl with a trip off the frontlines so that the mistake wouldn't be repeated again.



Adriatic Sea
9th April 1924


While the Ostero-Ungarian ground troops were making progress against their foe through the south plains, the same could not be said for their naval counterparts.

The Ildoans had a much stronger naval presence than the Osterreich-Ungar. With their more numerous fleet, they blockaded the Southern Dragon's fleets within the Adriatic.

The Ostero-Ungarians soon found the entirety of their maritime trade broken. There was no other way to call the situation besides a crisis. With their lagging Naval innovation, it was thanks to their recent acquisitions from Germania and Jugoslavija that they could even protect their coasts.

However, they did have one advantage over their Western neighbour, they had superior Mages. Advancements in Magical Combat Doctrine had greatly improved their effectiveness. The Naval Mages outclassed their enemies with their advanced training and technological edge. Their outward successes gave the Ostero-Ungarian Navy hope that the blockade would be breached soon. Even more so now that high command has sent their problem solvers over.

---

"These orders are preposterous. They cannot be expecting me to singlehandedly overturn the advantage the Regia Marina has. I know I may have done some ridiculous things in the past, but we're still humans," lamented Marcel as he rested his head on the table.

Petra looked at the map of the Adriatic, frowning as much as her superior, "That's certainly true. Naval Warfare is very different from regular Warfare, Mages can't sink an entire warship after all, we still need to rely on our own ships for those. If only we could just win the War by taking Roma."

Suddenly, Marcel sat up, "What was that last part?"

"If only we could win the War by taking Roma?" answered the confused Noble woman.

"You are a genius!" shouted Marcel as he gave Petra a hug, "I know what to do next!"

"Major, that's very unprofessional of you," frowned Katya, her face darker than he had ever seen.

"Haha, sorry," laughed Marcel.

"Please don't do that ever again," sighed Petra as she looked at the fuming redhead.



Western Front, Germania
19th April 1924


"Company, I have bad news. The 205th is expected to reinforce the 403rd Mage Company while they push back against two Francois Mage Companies. However we have additionally been tasked with assisting the Artillery spotters of their attached unit," briefed Lieutenant Schwarzkopf, before looking at Tanya, "Do you think you can lead a platoon to clear out the Francois Company?"

"We have a chance, but we must strike fast and hard. Inexperienced Mages should stay out of this fight."

"Best to leave your Wingman behind then," replied the Company Commander, taking her advice seriously.

Seeing her Wingman take a deep breath, Tanya understood just how much Frida wanted to join her.

"Frida has kept up with me since the beginning. She is by no means inexperienced, I just need two more Mages."

"Since you believe in her so much, I won't stop you. I'll have Sergeant Schones' squad to fill in the missing slots."

Tanya turned to Frida, who was still speechless with joy, "I promised I'll always have your back didn't I? You didn't think I'd leave you behind after we've come so far together, did you?

---

"Damn it! We had them in retreat, why are we the ones being pushed back now?" cursed a Francois Mage.

"Shut up and keep firing! We need to take out the Artillery spotters to cover the infantry retreat!" replied the second.

"I can't spot the last one! Authorise the use of explosive Formulas! We can't take them out like this!"

"Enemy Mana signatures incoming! Four Mages from two O'clock! Prepare for interception fire!"

---

"The Observer Mages are under fire from two companies, that's a bit much for a single platoon to deal with isn't it?" worried the veteran Sergeant.

"Perhaps if we used conventional means, but I've been taught by the very best mage at asymmetrical warfare," replied the Lieutenant.

"We really are following in the footsteps of the Wraith, huh."

"Prepare for a cloaked entry, each pair will engage three platoons, one at a time. Make sure you waste no time in ending them! Some of the Observer Mages are still alive and putting up a fight, we have to make their efforts worthwhile!

---

"They're almost on us, but I don't see them! Is the sensor faulty?"

"Shoot in that direction, make sure there's nothing!"

The volley of four rounds missed the pair of split Germanian Mages, failing to reveal them. In retaliation, the Lieutenant and her Corporal sniped one Francois Mage each, halving their strength swiftly.

"Merdé! Where are they?"

The Republican Mages' blind shots had no effect. Like before, retaliatory fire ended their struggle. Only then did their enemies reveal themselves.

---

"That's the first platoon, Corporal! Reload and prepare for the second strike!" ordered Lieutenant Degurechaff as she uncloaked.

"Roger, Commander!"

Frida didn't exactly like flying all these high risk missions, but even she could tell that flying with Lieutenant Degurechaff had taught her much. Frida found that in the few short months she had become a capable Mage of her own. Her shots became steadier and her manoeuvres even swifter. Being the Wingman of an Ace of Aces had made her a competent Mage.

Swift attacks from the flank tore the second enemy platoon to shreds. It was a good thing that Francois Mages weren't as well trained as Legadonian ones, even if they were more numerous. They made great training targets for testing out aerial strategies.

The pair prepared to cloak for their final engagement, only to be interrupted by a transmission.

"This is Artillery Observer Second Lieutenant William Walter confirming that the Francois Mage Platoon on my position has been neutralised."

---

Artillery Observer Second Lieutenant Walter paused for a breath as he cut the communications. He couldn't quite believe that he had survived that ordeal.

His classes with Lecturer von Bastion had quite literally saved his life. What could have been certain death turned into an intense workout.

William knew that he had made the right choice with learning from the worst Mage in Germanian history.

---

As the last enemy Mage fled, Lieutenant Serebryakova looked at the Artillery beat down on the remainder of the fleeing Republican troops, each volley becoming more and more accurate. Lieutenant Degurechaff had succeeded.

A single Platoon taking out two companies, successfully completing their mission. She really was like the Wraith, turning over seemingly impossible odds.

---

20th April 1924


"Here's your cup of coffee, Tanya," smiled Visha as she took a seat next to her fellow Platoon Commander.

"Thanks, your coffee always makes me feel alive after a mission," the younger Mage smiled back.

"That was one hell of a battle too. It was honestly quite a close call, the Wraith must have taught you well."

"Well, he's probably the best teacher to be teaching Magic. He had so many spells no one else could teach."

"That reminds me of the additional courses I took back in the Officer Cadet School. I wonder what happened to-" replied Visha before being interrupted by a third Mage sitting down.

"Thanks for the backup yesterday, Degurechaff. I didn't realise you were serving as a Combat Mage, much less as an Ace! I was expecting you to join me as a fellow Artillery Spotter, instead I hear about you saving the Crown Prince!" laughed William as he patted the girl on the back.

"William, you're acquainted with Tanya?" asked Visha.

"Of course! She's a fellow 'special courser' after all! We're basically fellow students since all three of us were taught by the Wraith!"

Visha sat in shocked silence as the final piece clicked into place. Lecturer von Bastion was the Wraith.

"I didn't know that. I hope he doesn't hold a grudge about his eye."



Adriatic Sea
22nd April 1924


"Phantom 09, report! What is the condition of the priority target?"

"Southwest of your current position, Major. The RN Roma is currently disengaging from combat with the First Fleet. It has taken damage to its armaments. No danger of sinking just yet," answered Nikolai, living up to his title of Reconnaissance Mage.

Being an older generation ship, the Roma that would have normally been kept within the confines of the port had been brought out to maintain control over the Adriatic while the newer ships were tied up at the blockade. A mistake the Ildoans will regret for years to come.

"Wraith and Banshee Companies, on me! We have a ship to board! Wisp Company, disable any enemy vessel that gets close, whatever method you wish." ordered Marcel, "And Reaper Company, take out those Marine Mages! Don't let them get close to the ship!"

---

The Ildoan Captain cursed his luck, those cowardly Francois have failed him. They left his fleet to fend for themselves when the Ostero-Ungarians Mages showed up. An alliance of convenience indeed, a few damaged Republican vessels and they were nowhere to be seen.

He knew the so-called Phantoms had boarded his ship. All he could do was listen to reports, with little power to stop them, they swiftly overpowered the crew and overcame the internal defences, even preventing all attempts to scuttle the ship. They wanted it captured intact and it was only a matter of time before they made it to the bridge.

---

Marcel let off a shot from his shotgun, the metal pellets clearing up the guards between him and his final objective.

Signalling to his detachment, he readied them, "Last door! Impact spell! Prepare for breaching! Three! Two! One!"

The Major let off a spell enhanced kick. First came the groan of metal being bent out of shape, then gunshots as the Phantoms took out the last defenders.

"Bonjour, Captain. Do we have your surrender?" asked Major von Bastion.



Republican Army Command, Francois Republic
22nd April 1924


The Rhine had turned into a graveyard of Francois Aces. Heroes turned into fertiliser. Unknown Germanian Mages becoming Aces after feasting on their remains. An unacceptable situation that had to be changed through careful planning.

"We will be reviewing what footage of the 106th and 107th Reconnaissance Mage Companies took before their untimely end," explained the presenter, "The two companies were tasked with suppressing Observation Mages when they were intercepted."

He continued, "Unfortunately, from the few orbs we managed to recover, most of them showed quite literally nothing."

"What do you mean by that?" demanded a staff member.

"They were killed before they saw their enemy. Very likely a group of long distance sniping elites. One of which is probably the Ace of Aces known as the Devil of Rhine."

"What information do we have on this Mage? Weren't the 106th and 107th trained specifically to take down Germanian Aces?" questioned another member of the staff.

"An unknown mage, we haven't found any conclusive data to identify them. Their engagement method seems to be to engage our Mages from long distance, too far to spot."

"What do you mean by 'seems'? You mean to say we don't actually know how our Mages are being killed at all?"

"According to Field Intelligence, all we know is that once in a while even their regular Mages can beat our Aces. Additionally, there are the unverifiable rumours of invisible Mages. We have nothing else, we're fighting blind."

"Just what have the Germanians been up to?"



Port Pula, Osterreich-Ungar
24th April 1924


Capturing the ship named after the Capital of Ildoa had done wonders in bolstering the morale of the Ostero-Ungarian Navy, and crushed that of their Ildoan counterpart.

Refitting the ship with new armaments and flying the Imperial naval flag high, yet refusing to rename the Vessel would further draw the ire of the Ildoans. An unforgivable insult, a mark on the pride of Ildoa itself. A message that the foolish Kingdom had bitten off more than they could chew trying to fight an Empire.

Unfortunately, it would be several more months before the SMS Roma would be ready to sail. The engineers would be working overtime just to fix the internal damage the boarding party created.



Germanian Military Personnel Department
29th April 1924


Lieutenant Colonel von Lehrgen's hands shook as he saw the documents in his hands. It was Lieutenant Degurechaff again.

He had tried so hard to keep her away from the battlefield, but time and time again she had gotten the approval to move up by people much more important than him. First was Doctor von Brandt, authorising her for a field test of some prototype.

This time? This time she had gotten three recommendations to War College. First was her superior, something Lehrgen expected. But the other two? Never in a million years. By saving Crown Prince Otto, she had impressed both him and Princess Marianne.

There was nothing he could do to stop her from climbing up even further. The Devil had made too much of a name for herself.



Western Front, Germania
3rd May 1924


Tanya smiled to herself. It was finally here, her acceptance letter into War College. Her abilities had pulled her through.

After her extensive tests, it could be concluded that the DT-80 was just an ordinary Orb, at the cutting edge of technology, but untouched by Being X. No longer needed for the time being, she had it sent back to Dr von Brandt for further testing.

Saying goodbye to Visha had been hard. The Lieutenant had no interest in joining her for further education. If only they had more time together. Tanya was going to miss her coffee sorely. Perhaps she would join the 203rd when the time came.

Frida on the other hand? She was excited to say goodbye, clutching her acceptance letter to the Officer Cadet Course. It was nice to see that she was so excited to increase her potential.

One more step into the future as foretold. She had a General to meet and an Empire to save.

---

What a chapter where absolutely nothing special happened huh? No Royal shenanigans, no funny Naval business. Just plain quiet war. What do you think about this boring chapter?


It's fine if you wish to discuss older chapter in this thread, but you're always invited to do so in my discord server instead.