by Carlo Zen
Copyright
The Saga of Tanya the Evil, Vol. 3
Carlo Zen
Translation by Emily Balistrieri Cover art by Shinobu Shinotsuki This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is coincidental.
YOJO SENKI Vol. 3 The Finest Hour ©Carlo Zen 2014
First published in Japan in 2014 by KADOKAWA CORPORATION, Tokyo.
English translation rights arranged with KADOKAWA CORPORATION, Tokyo, through TUTTLE-MORI AGENCY, INC., Tokyo.
English translation © 2018 by Yen Press, LLC
Yen Press, LLC supports the right to free expression and the value of copyright. The purpose of copyright is to encourage writers and artists to produce the creative works that enrich our culture.
The scanning, uploading, and distribution of this book without permission is a theft of the author's intellectual property. If you would like permission to use material from the book (other than for review purposes), please contact the publisher. Thank you for your support of the author's rights.
Yen On
1290 Avenue of the Americas
New York, NY 10104
Visit us at yenpress.com
facebook.com/yenpress
twitter.com/yenpress
yenpress.tumblr.com
instagram.com/yenpress
First Yen On Edition: July 2018
Yen On is an imprint of Yen Press, LLC.
The Yen On name and logo are trademarks of Yen Press, LLC.
The publisher is not responsible for websites (or their content) that are not owned by the publisher.
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data Names: Zen, Carlo, author. | Shinotsuki, Shinobu, illustrator. | Balistrieri, Emily, translator. | Steinbach, Kevin, translator.
Title: Saga of Tanya the evil / Carlo Zen ; illustration by Shinobu Shinotsuki ; translation by Emily Balistrieri, Kevin Steinbach Other titles: Yōjo Senki. English Description: First Yen On edition. | New York : Yen ON, 2017-- Identifiers: LCCN 2017044721 | ISBN 9780316512442 (v. 1 : pbk.) | ISBN 9780316512466 (v. 2 : pbk.) | ISBN 9780316512480 (v. 3 : pbk.) Classification: LCC PL878.E6 Y6513 2017 | DDC 895.63/6---dc23
LC record available at https://lccn.loc.gov/2017044721
ISBNs: 978-0-316512480 (paperback) 978-0-316-56057-3 (ebook) E3-20180627-JV-PC
Contents
Cover
Insert
Title Page
Copyright
Chapter I: Open Sesame
Chapter II: The Intervention, Which Was Too Late
Chapter III: Operation Ark
Chapter IV: How to Use Victory
Chapter V: Internal Affairs
Chapter VI: The Southern Campaign
Appendixes: Mapped Outline of History
Afterword
Yen Newsletter
[chapter] I Open Sesame
MAY 24, UNIFIED YEAR 1925, ARKANSAS, UNIFIED STATES
In the gently streaming Arkansas sunlight, she raced over to her beloved grandma and presented a bag of bright red apples.
"Hey, Grandma, where should I put these apples the neighbors gave us?"
"Dear me, Mary, more apples? Carlos's wife must like you."
Smiling serenely, the old woman slowly began to rise from her easy chair. Her granddaughter was kind enough to offer a hand. Noticing her natural consideration, the elderly woman thanked God the girl had been raised to be kind and thoughtful.
The neighbors were proud of their harvest, and her granddaughter beamed like the sun after receiving a bag. Though the girl was staying with family, this was still a foreign country to her. Despite leaving her father behind to come live in a new and unknown place, she had won over even the most difficult people with that sunny smile.
She was a strong child, old enough that she wasn't oblivious to the events happening around her. She did everything she could to cheer up the whole household. The old woman was proud of her for that but, by the same token, found her circumstances so sad.
Thus, it was with mixed feelings that the grandmother eagerly stood and endeavored to keep the mood light by suggesting they bake an apple pie together. Her inability to do anything but worry about the miserable state of the conflict only fueled her frustration.
If only this cruel war would just end... The old woman sighed discreetly so Mary wouldn't notice and slowly headed for the kitchen. Catching a glimpse of her grieving daughter glued to the radio and newspaper in the sitting room, Mary's grandmother wiped tears from her eyes.
Ever since they had received notice about the death of her son-in-law Anson, the Entente Alliance soldier who had come to ask for her daughter's hand in marriage, Mary's mother had seemed listless, like her mind was elsewhere.
Anson had been a stubborn man, and the two of them had come to blows more than once, but for some reason in the end, they got along just fine. Now, the photograph of the happy couple merely served as a reminder that Anson was gone. The old woman could only lament her thoughtlessness in neglecting to put it away.
She knew that due to the physical distance between the Unified States and the Entente Alliance, as well as the immense confusion at the scene of the fighting, news wouldn't arrive very quickly. But at some point, she must have let her guard down. She was anxious for news of the war, but she never imagined that Anson would be killed.
And that was why she still kept recalling the day the death notice arrived and how stunned she had been.
A notice? For us?
It came on a tranquil, sunny day exactly like this one.
The old woman's daughter had finally started to smile again, seeming to have relaxed after returning to her hometown, while her granddaughter rushed around the foreign land giddy with curiosity. The old woman watched over them with a smile.
The bad news struck right as she was inviting the girls in for three o'clock tea.
Suddenly, a car flying the Entente Alliance flag pulled up, and an official from the embassy climbed out. When her daughter went to greet the man in her place, to spare her bad back, the old woman regretted that she didn't speak up and say, "Let me go. I'd like to talk with a visitor now and then, too."
If she had, she could have even taken the envelope he offered with a strained expression, his hands shaking, and hidden it away somewhere.
"Oh God! No!"
But instead, when she and Mary heard the screams and paused their tea preparations to rush for the doorway, they saw her daughter crumpled on the ground in tears and men in black whose faces said they couldn't bear to stand there any longer.
In retrospect, the old woman felt like a fool for blithely making tea at that moment.
Solemnly silent visitors in black? They were basically dressed for mourning, weren't they?
The reason for their visit should have been obvious.
DEATH NOTICE.
She hadn't even considered the possibility when she pulled the paper from her daughter's trembling hands, but the moment she read the single line printed on the front, time froze.
Her daughter still hadn't recovered from the shock.
Not only that, time is probably still frozen for her at exactly that moment.
After that, her daughter began listening obsessively to news broadcasts about the war, answering both Mary's encouragements and the old woman's consolations with the same hollow smile.
Tidying up the utensils in the kitchen, the old woman would think to herself.
How the war would surely end at some point. Apparently, from what she heard in the news, the Empire was retreating. She wasn't exactly sure what was going on, but...everyone whispered that the war seemed like it would end soo
n, so that's what she wished for. All she could do was hope. If it's going to end, then I hope it ends soon.
Perhaps the reason her daughter was tuning in to the broadcasts with a nearly religious devotion was that she hoped God would bring righteous judgment down on the Empire for taking her husband away.
Of course, revenge would only be empty and sad. At her age, the old woman knew that sorrows of the past could eventually be overcome. But for her daughter and granddaughter, the shock was still too great, so until the pain became dull and faded, she would endure it with them.
"All right, Mary, let's make this apple pie."
"Okay!"
MAY, UNIFIED YEAR 1925
Operations should be launched with a clear purpose and objective.
On that point, the General Staff praised Operation Schrecken und Ehrfurcht ("Shock and Awe") as a plan that embodied these ideals. Two major generals, Zettour and Rudersdorf, had drafted it.
The intentions of their proposal were plain and unambiguous.
By conducting radical but straightforward attacks that directly targeted enemy headquarters, it would be possible to knock out the opposing forces' chain of command, ultimately leading to the collapse of the enemy's lines.
That was it. One unit would be dispatched to complete one objective; it possessed the simple logic of two plus two equals four.
The reasoning behind it was obvious. A decapitated army cannot wage war.
Even a student at the academy would be able to grasp the intent immediately. After all, the strategy amounted to slicing off the enemy's head---neutralizing the command capabilities that were critical for a modern army.
However, the nature of the plan caused various staffers to raise serious doubts from the very beginning.
Naturally, the headquarters were considered incredibly important. Any army would establish their field command in friendly territory far beyond the reach of their enemies.
Common sense dictated that the Republic's headquarters on the Rhine front would be heavily defended. This foregone conclusion was confirmed with a reconnaissance in force at the cost of a great many lives.
Unless they could find a way past the enemy's dense interception screen and deal with any forces scrambled for defense, there was little hope of success. The majority of the General Staff had taken that into account and judged that if they were wholly prepared to dispassionately sustain losses in order to achieve a breakthrough, they would lose an entire brigade of aerial mages in the process.
So when the aim and execution of Operation Schrecken und Ehrfurcht were revealed, many staffers thought that anyone who would give such orders had to be crazy. There were even those who openly opposed the operation, claiming it was a joke that would accomplish nothing but recklessly send soldiers to their deaths.
Of course, none of the realists on staff objected to the operation's intended purpose. If it was possible to destroy the enemy chain of command by penetrating their lines and storming their headquarters, it didn't matter what sacrifices needed to be made. Assuming a reasonable chance of success, any number of casualties was acceptable.
Despite the appeal of undertaking bold ventures with no regard for the price, the staffers rejected the proposal due to the slim chances involved. Wagering their valuable troops on an operation with such a small probability of success was an unthinkable outrage under ordinary circumstances.
If chances were good, then sure, some losses could be ignored. Did it matter how high the returns would be if the likelihood of victory was impossibly low? Was this the operation they were pinning the success of the breakthrough on? If that was truly the case, every officer would have been forced to bitterly admit that they were done for.
Deep down, most officers on the General Staff privately believed that if it were possible to strike at the enemy headquarters directly, the Rhine front wouldn't have become a stalemate in the first place.
Such a meritless plan would normally be tossed in the waste bin and forgotten...but this particular proposal was drafted and jointly signed by none other than the generals Zettour and Rudersdorf.
At first, the staff were puzzled when they realized the two authorities on large-scale maneuver warfare seemed to be proposing the operation as a practical move. They reluctantly reviewed the document, and only upon an intensive reading did it dawn on them that the absurd plan was worthy of serious consideration.
In the end, loath as the other staffers were to admit it...they begrudgingly acknowledged that the operation might be possible. It all depended on committing the veteran 203rd Aerial Mage Battalion led by Major Tanya von Degurechaff, whose alias was in the process of shifting from the elegant "White Silver" to the more awe-striking and fearsome "Rusted Silver." They would also require supplemental acceleration devices that allowed the user to climb to altitudes where interception was impossible and gave them the speed to outrun any pursuers.
On paper, at least, the specs of the supplemental acceleration device, combined with the unit's accumulated achievements, made the proposal attractive enough to warrant discussion.
But even with all those cards assembled, the planners still hesitated---Zettour and Rudersdorf were suggesting, of all things, to dovetail Schrecken und Ehrfurcht ("Shock and Awe") with their next major plan, Operation Lock Pick. Claiming that there was no hope of pulling off Operation Lock Pick without the success of Operation Schrecken und Ehrfurcht invited particularly intense debate.
It was no small dispute. After all, having made their wager on Operation Lock Pick, the General Staff had already crossed the dangerous bridge of withdrawing troops from the Rhine front, a move that would normally be unthinkable. They were long past the Rubicon. It wasn't easy for them to maintain composure while listening to claims that their initial wager was now at the mercy of this gamble of an operation.
A fountain of objections erupted internally, and the debates that raged both in and out of conference rooms split the General Staff right in half. Calling the plan controversial didn't do it justice.
With officers grabbing one another by the lapels in fierce disagreement and cursing their peers as stubborn fools, the state of affairs was wild enough that it was more like a wrestling match than anything. It was plain to see how chaotic the internal strife had grown after multiple officers were officially reported to have "taken a tumble."
But in the end, the General Staff decided that the fundamental aim of attacking the enemy headquarters directly had a lot of promise. After all, even if they didn't manage to take it out completely, the attempt alone would still cause a great deal of confusion.
It might be a quixotic one-way charge, but the Republican Army would need to seriously take into account the threat of a capable aerial mage unit conducting a raid ever after, and that was huge.
They could expect this result even if the attack failed. In other words, if the Imperial Army carried out just a single decapitation strike, the Republicans would have to be constantly on guard against another. They would have to station more of their precious few forces in the rear to guard the critical Rhine front headquarters.
It was a reasonable interpretation of the situation. Even in the sense of "trying is better than not," making a real effort didn't seem like a poor idea, either. At the very least, they would tie up additional enemy troops in the rear.
Some of the officers even added another thought in the back of their minds: Major von Degurechaff might actually be able to wring out even better results.
That said, no one could deny it was a risky operation. At worst, they would be sending their elite troops on a futile mission and could lose every single one. Of course, even if the attack force was wiped out, the threat would remain. It was a steep price to pay for a threat, though.
On top of that, the unit they planned to send in was the irreplaceable pet project that the General Staff kept close at hand---a quick response unit with a wealth of combat experience.
The 203rd Aerial Mage Battalion had been initially formed as an
experiment, but it was currently serving as the General Staff's proverbial workhorse, consistently surpassing expectations on every battlefield. Its less flashy but nevertheless vital contributions in the field of testing new tactics and assessing new weapons couldn't be ignored, either.
This wasn't the sort of unit that could be duplicated overnight, and yet it was precisely thanks to their elite capabilities that anyone expected them to succeed. After struggling with that contradiction, the General Staff eventually settled on dispatching a company. That took into account both the amount of troops they were comfortable deploying and the number of troops necessary for success.
Once the size of the force was locked down, the Empire's intricate war machine became fully operational.
Twelve members of the 203rd Aerial Mage Battalion were promptly selected and transported to a launch base in the rear as the strike force that would utilize the supplemental acceleration device (code name V-1) to carry out the attack behind enemy lines.
The participants received technical briefings from the engineers as well as intelligence on enemy territory. All preparations for their combat mission were completed without delay.
However, the test run Major von Degurechaff petitioned for was denied due to secrecy concerns. It was an unavoidable decision, since the whole point of the operation was a sneak attack; from a counterespionage viewpoint, the General Staff couldn't allow it.
Of course, making an attempt with no practice was risky. The General Staff Office received many misgivings and doubts over this decision. Since the chances of success depended entirely on whether or not their unit could use the element of surprise, the mission's clandestine nature was emphasized to the point of suppressing any dissent. Ultimately, even Major von Degurechaff had to acknowledge the need for counterintelligence, though she did so reluctantly.
The team carried out piloting exercises in the hangar, but there were no actual launches with any equipment. In exchange, maintenance on the supplemental acceleration devices was performed with extra care at Major von Degurechaff's request.
