Reich Marshal of the Belkan Reich

Chapter 21: For greed, for the greater good

"God fucking damn it!" General Alban flips the table, and for a good reason. "If only I weren't so blind, so incompetent! The signs were there, the hints were provided! Yet, I was too stupid to understand!" Alban rages, his hand reaching for his service pistol.

"General, please calm down!" Fortunately, his aides step forward and stop him from making a grave mistake. "There's no way you could have known they will use our own ship against us, sir. It's not your fault!"

Alban is infuriated, thousands of lives were lost in the span of a few days, and for what, another empty trench line. While the Belkans successfully retreated to their last line of defense with moderate damage, Alban's army is now on its last leg. The sudden intervention from what was once their destroyer, Vauquelin, had cost them valuable time to intercept the retreating enemy. Thus the Belkans retain much more in terms of an effective fighting force, they also create another buffer zone, the same as before. This means Alban once again has to clear buildings by buildings, street by street, a process he now has no time nor the manpower to pay for. 

He is honest to God, stuck, as his effective combat strength is now down to less than half of the 80000 men that entered Arash. They still outnumbered the enemy's 404th Division, true. It's just that what he has are demoralized conscripts while they have battle-hardened soldiers. Coupling with the out-of-this-world tactics that they have been employing, safe to say that they are truly deserving of the nickname: Ghost Division.

Facing this insurmountable enemy, Alban comes face to face with a crippling truth that the choices he made, the sacrifices they endured, all of them are for naught. With such a disastrous result, Alban's military career is effectively over. He will be stripped of his rank and probably be killed in a dark corner, somewhere, either by the Minister's people or the disgruntled citizens. Losses like this aren't taken too kindly by the affected people. In hindsight, it's a miracle he isn't having a mutiny at hand right now. It goes to say that Alban knows his stuff, damn well at that, it's just that he drew the short straw this time.

Sitting down on the chair, his legs stepping on the important documents that are not littering the ground, Alban rests his face in the palms of his hands. He is tired, mentally and physically. Too many young men's lives were lost because of him, he can vividly recall some of their faces too. That fact isn't helping whatsoever in lifting up his spirit, rather, it plunges his morale further down the darkest pit.

The aides, not knowing what to do seeing their General like that, starts rearranging the furniture and documents that were displaced. One of them goes out of the war room to grab a glass of water for the General, then places it on a drinking table near him. Just in time for him to hear Alban mutters.

"...burn it."

Confused, the aide leans in to ask. "Did you just say something, General?"

Alban lifts up his face, revealing his bloodshot eyes, with grim determination, he says in a chilling voice. "Burn Arash to the ground! That's the only way to end this menace!" He stands up, shouting. "If we can't have this city, so too they cannot!"

"General! That's not going to work!" A Colonel retorted. "That's madness you're speaking of! We are sent here to take the city back, not razing it to the ground like barbarians!"

"Then what the fuck are we supposed to do?! We can't beat them with our meager force, nor we can outlast them in terms of supply. Either option ended in the Belkans and the Reformists taking control of the city for good. Which is the failure condition of this operation we are having. So unless you all have a genius plan to pull out your asses, burning the city is our only option. It's the final solution that we have to take, lest our enemy has this vital city in their possession." Alban's analysis stumped the officers and aides. Yet, they understand his supposed lunacy as they too see it as the last viable choice.

Having no other idea to contribute, the war room descended into a claustrophobic silence. If this goes on, they may actually have to see the plan through. A fact many of them are uncomfortable with since who wants to see their bloodied efforts, just going down the drain like that? Not to mention the dishonorable act will be the talk for years to come, and they will be no different than death row convicts.

Fortunately for them, before they commit to anything, an interruption occurs as a Sergeant heads inside the room to announce. "General Alban, sir, we have... guests?"

Alban snaps. "Why the fuck is that a question, son?"

The Sergeant fumbles while scratching his head. "About that, sir... They are civilians that just arrived in a caravan, full of supplies, and they told me to pass on a few words. Sir, if I may?"

Alban frowns as he immediately notices something fishy. "Well, go on. Say it out loud for us to hear."

"Yes, General. The leader of the caravan said that he is offering to help us. Help us in killing the enemy General, was what they were saying."

Alban snarks. "Say what now!?" The other officers also seem to be in disbelief. It doesn't take a genius to find out that the whole situation reeks of clandestine activities. 

"Sir, I think it's more apt to hear what they have to say for us." An aide interjected. "We have nothing to lose anyway."

Alban scratches his beard, it's just like the aide said, nothing left to lose so why hesitate? He sighs before telling the Sergeant. "Vet their leader for weapons, then bring him here to talk to us and under armed escorts."

The Sergeant salutes. "Yes, General!" He heads out with hastened steps, leaving the officers alone, pondering on the new development.

"What do you think?" Alban posed the question, his hand resting on the glass of water his aide prepared.

A Captain gives his thought. "The enemy has control of the sky, they can even see in the dark. Yet, this supposed caravan completely evaded their patrols and managed to reach us, with supply to boot. If this is not a warning sign, I don't know what is."

"That's true," The Colonel that called Alban a madman added. "not to mention they arrived at such a coincidental time. I would assume that they were waiting for us to be on our last leg before making an offer we can't refuse."

"I second that." Many nodded at the Colonel's words.

Alban too is of the same mind. "So we all know that the guy that's about to arrive is full of dark shits. The question now is, should we follow through with the offer they're proposing? Personally, I am much again cooperating with people on that side of thing, yet we have little options."

Everybody in the room understands the underlying meaning of Alban's words. Dealing with the spies and undercover agents is like dealing with the Devil himself. As you may never know when they will write you off the book, literally. If razing a city can at least put them on the front page of history for performing a strategic decision, albeit a dark one, then working with the agents can potentially erase or vilify you. To put it bluntly, they hate working with a spy as all of them despite the dishonorable way they work, and the risk of associating with them.

Seeing that they all either have unwilling or uncomfortable looks, Alban let out a rueful sigh. "It seems like we share the same sentiment. Still, let us listen to their talk first before deciding on anything, as I know my proposal before is utmost unsettling for you all, also."

They nod before committing themselves to a short break, ordering tea and whatever is left for light snacks. It's nighttime so they need some refreshment to clear up their mood. Soon enough, footsteps are heard outside the room, and appearing at the doorway is the Sergeant from before.

"Sir, the guest has arrived." The Sergeant leads a blonde hair man into the room, flanked by two soldiers.

Alban gazes at the man, noticing the blue eyes and when coupling with that blonde hair of his, he knows the guest is clearly of Aryan descent. He's a damn Belkan. Standing up, he and a few other officers are pulling out their pistols and revolvers. "Tell me one good reason why we can't blast that goldy head off your shoulders, damn demon spawn!"

The Belkan gives out a disarming smile, his hands raise in a surrender gesture. "Let's all cool down a bit, shall we? I assure you I am here with good intentions in mind. If it is of any help, I am of a different faction than the General that's leading the Belkan Division you have been fighting."

His words succeed in lightening the mood if only a little bit. Alban scoffs before kicking a chair out for the Belkan to sit on, he too sits down with a gruff look. Though the others still rest a hand on their weapons, in case the Belkan bastard does something stupid. Letting out a wry smile at this, the Belkan thinks to himself that the negotiation may be harder than he initially thought, all thanks to the handiworks of the 404th.

He sits down and then introduces himself, deciding to ignore the stern gazes of the numerous Ustians in the room. "I'm Leopold Fitz, a field operative of the Belka Bureau of Intelligence. I have arrived with an offer to help you win this gruesome battle."

Alban slams the table. "I couldn't care less what shithole you dug yourself out of so get to the point!"

Agent Fitz obliges. "Ok then, I will keep this short. With the recent victories of the 404th Division, led by the Imperial Reich Princess of Belka herself, some people have grown restless about her. Here, I serve one of those people to remove her from the board. To do that, I will need your help."

Fitz's words allow Alban and his cohort to get a glimpse of Belka's factional struggle. "Fucking backstage politics..." One of them utters a complaint.

"As expected, you lot of spies always have a hidden blade. Though now you learn to backstab the one you're serving, just to further your agenda." Alban said grimly. 

Though he hates the Princess of Belka to the bone, he does respect her for her feats of war, even though they're on different sides of the spectrum. Yet to see a talented person being conspired against by their own countrymen, a feeling of disgust swelled in Alban's heart.

Fitz dismisses the aggressive wording from Alban, he speaks up about his plan. "Just hear me out, General. I've come bearing precious supplies for your army, enough for one last huzzah. We also bring some special devices that can obstruct the vision of the 404th scouts. They're the same ones we used to infiltrate Arash. With those, you can get your army damn near the 404th without being spotted, surprising the defenders. All we are asking of you is to make the battle as flashy as possible, pulling the enemy main force away from the 404th main camp. This will allow us to get closer to the Imperial Princess, close enough for us to get a clean shot at her. If we succeed, you stand a higher chance of turning the table around, General Alban. I urge you to consider this matter carefully." Finishing his words, Fitz leans back on the chair.

Alban endures the disgusting feeling inside him to ponder. There are two choices presented before him: One is to ignore the offer and burn the city, meaning mission failure for both parties involved in the conflict. The second is to discard his honor and take up on the offer, yet they stand a chance to turn the tide in their favor. They still outnumber the 404th, after all, and if the Belkan's words are to be trusted. They can use the devices to one-up the 404th at their own game. That's at the premise that the Belkan traitorous agents can cut the head of the snake. 

Seeing that Alban is lost in his thoughts, Fitz capitalizes on the opportunity, knowing that the General is willing to give the offer a chance. "General, you and your men sacrificed a lot just to get here, don't let it be in vain. If you turn back from Arash now, the city will truly be lost, you people branded as failures, a disgrace to the current regime. Yet we're here to help you make everything worth it. We will disguise as soldiers under your command. We will go behind the enemy line and kill the enemy General. Thus you can seize the chance and the payback you deserve. Reward and recognition from our actions will be yours to take. After all, the world sees you as the ones directing us to do the job. Imagine this, after a glorious weeks-long battle, you've defeated the unbeatable Belkan division and claimed the life of its sole Princess. The bravery you and your men showed will be sung in praises for years to come. The living and the fallen alike will forever immortalize as heroes of your nation. Not to mention the fact that this victory will ensure the sovereignty of your country, preventing it from falling into a protracted civil war."

It takes some work but Fitz has successfully strokes the ego of the people in the room. Unlike before, many are now envisioning the prospect that Fitz has said. It will be a lie if they say they're not interested in it. Alban notices the shift in his subordinates' moods. Yet he can't really blame them, as they've been offering hope and profits from the Belkan in front of him. It's like a sinker suddenly receives a lifebuoy, they will hang onto it for dear life. He snickers mentally, they've been against his plan of razing the city, yet they are seriously contemplating working with a traitor.

Alban relents as he notices the willingness to cooperate with the Belkan oozing out of his subordinates. Gone were the men talking about not being barbarians and lunatics.  "Truly, human greed is the caused of everything wrong in the world." His words signified the defeat of his codes of honor. Even he is tempted by the offer, after all, no one wants to be on the losing side of history.

"Fine, we're willing to discuss this matter more in-depth. "

Fitz smiles, the first phase is a success, thankfully. "I am glad, General. I promise you all won't regret working with us." Thus the real talk can finally begin.

--------------------------------------------------

In the dark of the night, the subject of the ongoing discussion is now standing on a balcony, embracing the night wind. Yuki is standing there, waiting for the arrival of a messenger. A cawing is heard in the sky, having noticed it, Yuki turns around to make sure Bryn is fully asleep before holding her left hand out. A crow then proceeds to land on her outstretched hand, its eyes carry a hint of intelligence.

"Took you long enough." Yuki pats the head of the crow, making it ruffles its feather in response. Then, a feminine voice comes out from the beak of the crow.

"I'm sorry for the delay, Princess. The pawn decided to delay his arrival to ensure the greatest chance of success in his negotiation with the enemy."

Yuki accepts the apology from the crow. "I see, I presume the man has it handled?"

"Yes, Princess. He and the Ustian General is now in the talk of setting up the attempt on your life. I have no doubt he can bend the conversation according to your wish."

"That's high praise coming from you, Agent." Yuki chuckled. She continues to pat the crow, making it squirms comfortably.

"He has been trained well, Princess. The lives and freedom of his loved ones are also in our hands. I can assure you of his loyalty."

Yuki nods. "I trust in your capability to keep him in line. Now, are the Cognition Interference devices ready?"

"The pawn is in the process of distributing them for the Ustians to use, Princess. With them, the Ustians can mask their movement long enough, even hiding from your Night Witches for a while. The Ustians will be tricked into attacking your Division, for sure."

"Good, we are prepared to receive their last huzzah. Even with me gone, Bryn will still be able to take command of the situation, keeping it under control till reinforcement arrives. Speaking of reinforcement, how are they?"

" General Belladonna's vanguard is more than a day out while the fleet headed by Admiral Donitz is of the same timetable. When the time arrives, they can coordinate with the armored groups at White Rock to hit the Ustian from all sides. Thus eliminating this army from the face of the Earth."

"That's great to hear. Bryn only needs to hold out for another day then. Now, as confirmation, run the plan through me once again."

"Yes, Princess. Tomorrow at 9 am, a surprise attack will be launched on the Belkan defense line. Yet, as a standing order will be given before that, the surprise will be short-lived. Utilizing the attack, Belkan traitors will infiltrate our backline, wearing Ustian equipment. They will set an ambush, waiting for you to come out. Now, to investigate the sudden appearance of the enemy on the frontline, you will be moving out under escorts. Your route coincides with the ambush location. Adeline, having hidden near the site long ago, will be taking the first shot, incapacitating you. After that, you will be put under stricter protection, spoiling further attempts on your life. Yet, to keep up the ruse, the pawn will spur the traitors into attacking your escorts to no avail. Providing you with the just cause you need when the traitors are finally apprehended. We can assure there's at least one still alive by having the pawn surrender to your escort."

Agent pauses before continuing.

"Princess, are you sure about this? Even though the pawn and his group of traitors aren't the ones taking the shot, said task will be fallen to Adeline, and there's still a risk of everything going wrong. This is the last chance to consider the matter, Princess."

Yuki sighs. "It's well worth the risk, Agent. Belkan as of now has too many corrupted elements. By letting the pawn, and by proxy the wood elves, take the fall for my assassination Coupling with the previously recorded pieces of evidence, I will have the justification I need to clean up our nation in one fell swoop. And if you're afraid of me losing my life, as if Adeline will ever let that happen. She's a damn good shooter and you know that."

"I see. Then what about Brynhyldr, can she be trusted to lead the division to victory? After all, you will be shot in front of her eyes. The emotional trauma may prove too much for her to bear."

Yuki smiles, fully confident in the Valkyrie she has chosen. "Brynhyldr has more than enough experience when dealing with losses on the battlefield. As I'm not truly dead, merely incapacitated, she will be able to keep her cool and deal with the task I delegated to her. Capturing or eliminating the traitors and preventing the fall of Arash on her own. Though I have no doubt the aftermath will be a bit of a pain to clean up, needing to deal with my mothers and all that. It's a bit of a dreadful prospect, I have to admit. Anyway, I digress. Anything else you need to report?"

"None so far, your Highness." The crow shook its head.

Yuki lets out a light smile, giving the crow her thanks. "You and the rest of the Einherjars have worked hard. Once everything is over, I will talk to Yggdrasil to have you rewarded later. I only ask to bear with my selfishness for a while later, all to ensure the prosperity of this nation and Yggdrasil herself."

The crow stands a bit straighter before replying. "It's fine, Princess. We all live to serve you and Yggdrasil, your words are our commandment and we will stop at nothing to have them fulfilled."

Nodding to her trusted subordinate's words, Yuki says. "You can go now, I will leave the situation back home for you and the rest to handle. Make sure that none of the rats escape our grasp."

"It will be done, Princess." After saying her pieces, the crow takes off to the sky. Yuki presumes it's to keep her eyes on the pawn, making sure he wouldn't try anything that deviates from the plan.

Shaking her head, Yuki heads inside to see Bryn is draped in a fluffy blanket, still soundly asleep. Yuki offers her apology in her heart for tomorrow will be a stressful day for the faithful Valkyrie. Yet, all of this is for the greater good, and she hopes Bryn will understand her motives.

Yuki gets on the bed lightly, in fear of stirring Bryn awakes. Laying next to the woman that offered up her soul to her, Yuki hugs the lady before drifting into a deep sleep.

It will be a long day tomorrow, for all of them.

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