Deus lo Vult

by Carlo Zen

  To be honest, mobile defense was tough. I learned very well what a pain it was to combat war junkies, for instance, when I had to fight those Named. If there is a god, he should erase that whole bunch before declaring himself. Any species that enjoys killing its own members is insane.

  In other words, there’s the end of my explanation of why Being X isn’t God. Ahh, what can I do to escape the devil? If the devil roams a godless world, we’re basically in Armageddon, right?

  “If you want to win while minimizing your own losses, then perhaps the Attritional Containment Doctrine? Mages are best for that.”

  “I see. You sure know how to sell it.”

  “My humble thanks, sir.”

  Now I should probably back off a bit. But his reaction’s not bad. He’s hunching slightly to write something on one of his documents, so it doesn’t look like he’s going to press me further. This is great.

  If I can talk my way out of things, perhaps I should consider a career as a negotiator. But my area of expertise is human resources. Going for depth gets you a better salary than breadth, but hmm.

  Maybe I should start planning my life after the war; maybe I should learn a trade. Now that I think of it, I’ll definitely have to earn some qualifications. How can I change jobs when my résumé is, “Mage with a wealth of combat experience. Can handle a fight to the death any time, any place”? Like, what kind of gang are you trying to join?

  Every era has the same issue with finding occupations for ex-soldiers. If Tanya doesn’t invest in herself now, she’ll have trouble later. It’s precisely for that reason that she’s going to the library, to learn about laws so she can earn a legal professional qualification or something similar that will keep her fed in the future.

  “So hypothetically, if you were to use mages as the linchpin of this Attritional Containment Doctrine, how many would you want?”

  …Maybe I shouldn’t be planning my life in one corner of my brain. I answer the question without really considering its aim. “I’m sure a battalion is the right size. It wouldn’t be a huge logistical burden, and it has the minimum force necessary.”

  “Interesting. Well, I’ll think about it. Young people’s opinions are always interesting.”

  “Thank you, sir.”

  Not realizing what just happened is a basic error. Normally, Tanya would definitely feel something was off and try to somehow avoid the incoming trouble. But this time she’s careless. Yes, even though carelessness causes all the most horrible errors in life.

  THE IMPERIAL CAPITAL, AT THE DESK OF THE DEPUTY DIRECTOR OF THE SERVICE CORPS IN THE GENERAL STAFF

  When in doubt, learn from the lessons of the past.

  The military man Zettour has learned so much from history that he’s criticized for being too much like a scholar, but he does it because the strategic principles of the past contain pieces that can still be applied.

  And because Brigadier General von Zettour is so familiar with history, he has a nose for recognizing indescribable yet fundamental change. He has learned from history to sense a shift in the tides. You could call it a feeling that the existing paradigm wouldn’t quite work for dealing with the national defense strategy issues the Empire is currently facing.

  He believed the teachings of history should be used as a guiding light, and they told him change could be coming.

  The difficult-to-grasp question of what will change is a distraction for most imperial soldiers. Given that most of them are expected to deal with the circumstances right in front of them, that’s no surprise. Considering the traditional way of thinking in the Imperial Army, which only cares about how well each individual carries out their missions, Zettour is certainly heretical.

  But regardless of his academic leanings, he has proven himself with outstanding achievements. The Imperial Army is open to welcoming all kinds of people as long as they can demonstrate skill as officers.

  And that’s why Zettour is respected even within the General Staff.

  The sight of him lost in thought at his desk has become a type of featured attraction at the General Staff Office, and no one thinks to interfere. The staffers who work under him are used to seeing him open up a philosophical text and sink deep into thought once his work is done.

  Ever since the war started, they have all been busy with urgent tasks, but now that both the northern and western fronts have stabilized, the lull creates some spare time, so they can finally breathe.

  None of the officers have rested since the war began, so the General Staff officers are finally given a short break as well. The younger staffers dash off in high spirits for the beer hall, where they make liberal use of their salaries because how else will they spend them? The older staffers take off as well, finally getting to spend some relaxing time with their families.

  What both groups have in common is that they take their first vacation in a while and enjoy it to the full.

  But the day they return, they find their superior officer, who clearly hasn’t slept a wink, immobile and staring feverishly at his hastily scribbled notes. The officer who remained on duty tells the puzzled staff that about half a day ago the brigadier general returned from the war college and has been scowling at his notes ever since, as if he has forgotten everything else in the world. Puzzling, indeed.

  “General von Zettour?”

  The field officers can’t bear to see him like this, but even when they try to talk to him, his bloodshot eyes only wander over the notes spread out on his desk. There isn’t any other way for him to process the shock he has received.

  At first, he thought she was just an officer with an interesting, novel idea, and that her proposal, which he had written down, was just another way of looking at things.

  As he thought more about it on his way back to the General Staff Office, he was impressed by her view that the conflict between exterior and interior lines might reach a head.

  But as he continued to ponder these ideas, he understood that his thoughts were beginning to grasp something. Then he realized—that even if he didn’t want to, he had to admit that the notes strewn across his desk contained an inconvenient truth.

  He’s shocked that she can speak so lucidly on the direction the war will take, when even the General Staff is unsure. Where did such an accurate understanding come from? As far as Zettour knew, Brigadier General von Rudersdorf was the one most sharply hinting that the tides of war would change, but even Rudersdorf didn’t seem able to see things as clearly as First Lieutenant Degurechaff had proclaimed them.

  She said that this was a world war, and that total war would be inevitable. Anyone else hearing that would say she was deluded. But he has the feeling she just put into words the changes that the Federation and the Dominion were hinting at. She fully understands the “something” that both Zettour and Rudersdorf were feeling, though they were unable to explain it.

  It’s a borderline delusional plan but strangely persuasive.

  She said it as if she’d already seen it happen. And Zettour has to agree with the analysis and understanding of the situation that provided the foundation for her conviction.

  Suddenly, he realizes that a number of staffers are eyeing him with concern. I can’t make a scene in front of my men, his usual officer values clamor, but he has received such an intellectual shock that he is still reeling from the aftereffects.

  Not in the mood to shrug it off as nothing, he lets his actual feelings slip. “It’s world war, men. Do you really think we’ll go to war against the entire world?”

  “Huh?” The lower-ranking officer’s expression says, What’s gotten into him?

  As awkward looks appear on everyone’s faces, Zettour wants to tell them he can’t believe it either, but that would be more awkward. Besides, his experience and knowledge judge that young brain’s horrific picture of the future to be a valid prediction.

  Yes. Zettour knows the words of this child—who would look more natural cheerfully laughing—can’t be laughed off.

&nbs
p; He heard of that officer, that…little girl, during the war college admissions process. He felt lucky to have run into her on campus, but when he tried to test her in conversation, the result was Pandora’s box.

  “Sorry. I can’t reveal the source, but I want you to consider this possibility.”

  “…It’s an awfully extreme prediction. Radical even…”

  Though he is giving orders, he understands his subordinates’ perplexity far more than he would like. Even he hadn’t considered the possibility of the entire world and the Reich plunging into war, and why should he have?

  How extreme could you get within the bounds of reason? And “radical” was exactly right. But the more he thinks about it, the more horrible the possibilities that flicker across his mind.

  Something like that could never happen. I’ll find a hole in it somewhere, he thinks.

  But, hypothetically—only hypothetically—what if…what if she were right? In that case, the Empire would have to go to war against the world, literally.

  If that happens, it wouldn’t be a bad idea to give her a battalion. If we can’t win unless we go insane, then we’ll just have to do that.

  “…The one thing I didn’t want to be when I grew up was a horrible person.” Suddenly aware of his own thoughts, Zettour is shocked. Send a child to war? That would be the worst sort of shame for a soldier. Yet he was assuming it as a given.

  Ahh…I regret being so incompetent.

  The position of a high-ranking General Staff member in the military is a specialist position. But you can’t only be a specialist. What the Imperial Army’s General Staff seeks are military specialists who are simultaneously generalists with insight into a broad range of related fields.

  Of course, at the very least, you have to understand the combat situations as well as the rear. For that reason, officers on the elite track frequently encounter transfer milestones.

  Major von Lergen, stationed in the hub of this activity—Personnel at the General Staff Office—is used to transfers. After all, from the perspective of his career, as important the role of a section chief in Personnel is, it’s only a milestone on the way to his next position.

  In the Imperial War College Admissions Committee meeting, he showed himself to be keeping an eye on multiple departments, and that was assessed favorably in the General Staff Office—although it was a valuation of his familiarity with other departments as a generalist, not his skepticism of the candidate, which was what he was hoping they would consider.

  In any case, you can never have too many skilled generalists in a war.

  Before long, he’s promoted to lieutenant colonel. And to Lieutenant Colonel von Lergen, who has risen at a quicker pace than usual, they offer a position as a high-ranking staff officer in the Operations Division of the General Staff.

  Although his role isn’t specified, a position under a high-ranking officer where he would get to be involved in the drafting of various overarching plans is proof of the army’s high opinion of him. And right upon reporting for duty, the lieutenant colonel would get a taste of the traditional slave driving.

  The Operations Division is a body at the center of the army within the General Staff. The General Staff building stands in a quiet, prime location in the imperial capital. Its exterior tranquility, appropriate to its accumulated history, belies its awfully hectic interior.

  “Congratulations on your promotion, Colonel von Lergen. We’re glad to have you.”

  “Thank you, General von Rudersdorf.”

  “Well, we’re going to work you like a horse, you know. No matter how many people we get, it’s never enough. Take a seat.”

  Felicitations upon his arrival and promotion. He has taken his orders; gathered up his things; and with his bag in hand, entered Operations, where he is met by the deputy director of the division, General von Rudersdorf, himself. Despite the long strings of hardworking days familiar to every General Staff officer, the general grins energetically and urges him to take a seat so they won’t waste time.

  The moment Lergen sits down, Rudersdorf launches into the topic at hand, as if they really have not a moment to lose.

  “Okay, Colonel. This is sudden, but I’d like you to go straight to the northern front. Here are your orders.”

  Though he knows of the general’s reputation for quick decisions, even Lergen doesn’t expect to be dispatched immediately upon reporting for duty.

  “As you know, the strategic confusion has had serious repercussions on the way things are going up there.”

  But Lergen wears the staff braid, too. It isn’t just a decoration. He instantly adapts his mind-set to the situation and refocuses. In almost no time, he’s listening closely to his superior, leaving no word unnoted.

  “Well, it’s no wonder given we’re suddenly performing a large-scale mobilization for an offensive on a front where we weren’t planning on attacking.”

  Imperial Army is paying a steep price for misjudging the situation. On top of tensions in the west, the massive unexpected deployments of the Great Army are having dire consequences.

  It’s easy to imagine the difficulties the armies in all theaters are facing as a result.

  The strength of interior lines strategy is movement across domestic territory, but it can’t be pulled off without extensive preparation. If conditions deteriorate, they can’t avoid chaos.

  “There’s nothing so atrocious and wasteful for a nation than people who aren’t fulfilling their duties getting paid in positions they aren’t suited for. Naturally, we’ve reshuffled.”

  As a result, most of the General Staff members who advocated for one big push have been dismissed or demoted. Of course, the ones who did their duty without any gross errors didn’t get it quite so bad, but the current mood is definitely favorable for promoting promising talents.

  It can be said that Lergen himself, considering his rapid advancement and important post in the General Staff, is one of those who is benefiting from the situation.

  “It’s ironic that we’re shorthanded, but it does mean we can give a promising officer like you somewhere to flex your muscles. That’s why we’re having you go up north.”

  “So my orders are to gain an understanding of the situation?”

  All things considered, the reason a General Staff member from Operations would be sent to the north would be inspection. Even a new staffer can understand that orders like this under these circumstances mean the higher-ups want data for long-term planning.

  And it’s all according to the basic strategy the Empire traditionally keeps in mind—of breaking through two fronts to the best of their ability. That is, one of the fronts will surely need to be prioritized, and the higher-ups probably want information to decide which one.

  “Exactly. The western front has stabilized, but we still don’t want to be fighting on two fronts for too long.”

  “So we need to decide which one to settle?”

  “Exactly. After you see what’s happening up north, go make observations in the west.” The general nods as if to say, Very well.

  As far as Lergen can tell, his response was satisfactory. “Yes, sir. I’ll go immediately to the north.”

  High-ranking staffers keep a bag packed with a change of clothes next to their desk so they can be ready to follow orders at any time.

  Lergen learned from senior officers, so when he takes his orders, he grabs the bag he faithfully packed according to tradition and walks out the Operations Division door. Of course, he never imagined that his preparations would come in handy so soon.

  “Good. Oh, and, Colonel. Take a look at this on your way up.”

  “What is it?”

  “A paper Zettour passed along. It’s worth a read.”

  “Understood. Then if you’ll excuse me, sir, I’ll be going.”

  Lieutenant Colonel von Lergen leaves straight from there, taking a military vehicle to the station. He boards a train bound for the north, which departs not too much later. He sits in the first
-class compartment reserved for high-ranking soldiers, takes out the paper, and reads the title: “Predictions on the Shape and Direction of the Current War.”

  For a moment, he remembers the Deputy Director of the Service Corps Brigadier General von Zettour’s scholarly face, and the title brings back fond memories of the texts accompanying lectures on the history of war. Zettour’s habit of deep thought is famous enough that Lergen has heard of it.

  So perhaps it makes an intriguing point, and that’s why General von Rudersdorf read it and recommended it to me. That is Lergen’s interpretation, but as he reads, his eyes glaze over.

  Not only that. As he reads further, his expression grows confused. It’s the emotional disturbance of fear and astonishment. He can’t help his shock, as if he has just been whacked in the head.

  “What…is this?”

  Is this…? “The Current War”? Wait, is this kind of war even possible? his mind murmurs, profoundly doubtful.

  …It is. The answer comes from his professional consciousness.

  As far as Lergen knows, Zettour isn’t the type of officer to go around shouting wild nonsense. On the contrary, he is rather restrained. It’s the General Staff’s common view that reality should be analyzed and understood. That scholarly yet realistic officer is warning them of a world that is, simply put, one of global war. Outrageous. How happy he would be if he could just laugh it off.

  But Lergen, head in his hands, moaning in spite of himself, is forced to confront reality. These kinds of strategy papers always entail furious debate; as a member of the General Staff, he’s aware what a dilemma exterior lines versus interior lines is.

  Naturally, he understands how world war is possible if the parties faced with the Empire’s interior lines strategy were to discuss how to beat it.

  “In that case…this is saying that the current war will inevitably develop into a global conflict?”

  The Empire would be under siege. The problem of its fragile national defense environment, stemming from political factors, gives those in charge of it a never-ending headache. It’s why they are still concerned about national defense despite having a military superior to those of nearby powers.