Posts from The Empire of Reimia (3) Auto-translated

To the right and down on the grid.

Camouflage and Grell Eliatris's well-thought-out tactics allowed the second squad to reach the location of the Darkrian artillery without major problems; all that remained was to destroy it or, at least, temporarily prevent further fire on the Empire's forces and civilians, thereby opening up the possibility for both to flee south, away from pursuit.
— Hey, Lieutenant de Leer, — Ed Abracks casually addressed his commander, standing behind the snow-covered trees, and nodded in the direction of the enemy commander.
He was a handsome man, appearing to be 25-30 years old, with blue eyes and long, golden hair tied back in a high ponytail. He was dressed in white and blue robes, and seemed to radiate noble radiance, which for some reason began to greatly irritate Virion.
— So, this is Krait Braidenwilde, — Grell quietly explained, well-versed in much useful and useless information, — he is not only a count, but also the commander-in-chief of the Darkrian armed forces; only the Duke himself is above him. It's strange that he's here.
— It doesn't matter. We have a good opportunity to strike a significant blow to the enemy's forces and morale. — Virion de Leer was pleased with the opportunity that had presented itself to him and his squad. Now he could leave his mark on history and thereby raise the prestige of his family. — Grell, Teddy, Ed, put the enemy forces in a state of confusion; Visenia, you are in charge of destroying the infantry; Meteos, Reila, Selena — destroy the artillery or those who operate it. I will take care of the commander. — Having made sure that his subordinates understood the plan of action, he began the attack. — Forward!
Grell's trick worked: the enemy infantry stood like fools and could not understand what was happening while they were burned by fire, struck by lightning, and pierced by ice spears. Meteos, Reila, and Selena effectively suppressed the enemy artillery fire. Virion de Leer drew his blade in order to strike down the commander-in-chief and rushed towards him with the intention of killing him... De Leer's sword cracked in half, and then his head flew off his shoulders. Krait Braidenwilde wiped the blood of the young lieutenant from his katana and put it back in its scabbard.
— Everyone, focus! — His loud, but graceful command, brought the Darkrian soldiers out of a state of panic. — Squad 5, E8! — The Darkrian soldiers flanked Grell, Teddy, and Ed from behind and mercilessly shot them from automatic weapons. — Private Wart, F25! — A bullet fired from a sniper rifle hits Visenia between the eyes, and she falls onto the snow, filling the white canvas beneath her with red paint. — Squad 2, A3! — Heavy infantry surrounded Meteos, Reila, and Selena, and began to fire at them from machine guns. Meteos shielded the girls with his body and paid for it with his life, but allowed them to launch a counterattack. Selena shot down two infantrymen, but she herself absorbed so much lead that it was incompatible with life. Reila shot one enemy in the head, jumped on another, threw a grenade into his bag, and pushed off him with her feet. A moment later, an explosion followed, and Reila herself hid behind a tree, catching her breath. She was the last one left alive, and she didn't know what to do next. Her thoughts were interrupted by a jump, which she made following her own instincts — a moment later, the trunk of the tree behind which she was hiding was split by a furious blow from the two-handed sword of an unnamed Darkrian warrior. But even that luck was not enough for her — a second swordsman, who was behind her, impaled her on his two-handed sword.
___
Meanwhile, Xenomia, Linnea, and Latro rested in the infirmary along with the other patients. While they were in such a helpless state, soldiers in Imperial uniforms began to enter the room, among them was Sergeant Nanako, whom, however, few people knew here. One of those who entered, judging by the insignia on his uniform, was a lieutenant.
— You'll pay for this, Rinzai dogs! — he declared loudly, and then began to methodically kill the defenseless patients with the help of his comrades.
— I'm sorry, darling, — Nanako said to Xenomia when her turn came, — nothing personal.
The sounds of a machine gun burst were heard, and a moment later Nanako fell on Xenomia, vomiting blood on her. Then her eyes went out. The arrival of Gilbert and the other members of the fourth squad came at just the right time for the survivors, and soon the problem was resolved.
___
Major Nails received information that the third squad had successfully broken through the encirclement, and the path to retreat was open. She organized the survivors for the most effective performance of the task facing their battalion and remained with a small number of soldiers to cover the rear. When the civilians and the main forces finally managed to escape the enemy's pursuit, the major and her subordinates were cut off from the rest, and they had no choice but to fall in battle. Noticing the Darkrian commander, she decided to use the last moments of her life for the good of her homeland, intending to take the enemy leader with her. She gathered her will and, cutting down one Darkrian after another, tirelessly reduced the distance between herself and Krait Braidenwilde.
— Haa! — The major jumped on him with inhuman speed and... fell onto the cold snow. The commander's blade cut the woman in half from the groin to the top of her head before she could reach him.
— What a pathetic display of courage, — the blond man sighed heavily, — first one, now the second, like monkeys.
— Sir, if you please... — A young adjutant waited for the commander-in-chief to nod and continued. — In my opinion, our opponent showed himself more than worthy, and such a feat deserves respect! Sir!... Besides... if you allow me to be absolutely honest...
— I allow it.
— Don't you think that the use of such methods is inconsistent with the Darkrian code of honor? Poisoning. Using traitors in the enemy ranks. The destruction of an entire city. Surrounding a defenseless enemy and destroying its forces along with civilians who have nothing to do with the war... In my humble opinion, we should have met the enemy in a fair fight.
— In wartime, such sentiments are not only absurd, but also extremely harmful. And it is because of such absurdity that we find ourselves in such an unenviable position as we are now.
— Sir?
— In our time, playing a defensive war is a fool's errand, doomed to failure. We should have occupied the north of the Empire in the early days of the war, while we still had the opportunity, but instead, we allowed the Imperial forces under the command of Realgar Muscari to set foot on our land. If we had not carried out today's counterattack, then in a few months the capital of the duchy itself would have been under threat. What is the point of a code of honor when following it means the annihilation of our forces and the loss of sovereignty?

Today's battle was a great victory for Darkria. Krait Braidenwilde left several battalions to defend this position, and he himself headed to the main forces of the duchy, intending to encircle Realgar Muscari.

Meanwhile, Xenomia, Linnea, and Lattro rested in the infirmary along with the other patients. While they were in such a helpless state, soldiers in imperial uniforms began to enter the room, among them was Sergeant Nanako, whom, however, few people here knew. One of the newcomers, judging by the insignia on his uniform, was a lieutenant.
“You deserve this, dogs of Rynze!” he declared loudly, and then began methodically killing the defenseless patients with the help of his comrades.

Despite the war raging around them, Miya, though feeling ashamed of herself, simply slept, lacking the strength to stay awake. It felt like sleeping at such a time was another betrayal of her friends, who were trying their best, but what could she do...
However, the sound of footsteps and screams nearby quickly shattered Xenomia's sleep.
"How? Already here, so fast? But why, how? And shouldn't we have guards? Are they alive? Is anyone... Alive?!"
With eyes full of horror, the girl watched as the patients were killed. And then she realized that she was standing in the front row, next to this insane woman. Strangely, this brought her more relief – perhaps, if the guards were still alive, at least Xenomia's death would prevent someone else from dying. There was also Linnea, Lattro... What would have happened if they had started with them?
"No... No... Wait... Think."
The infiltrator approached the next patient. Thoughts raced through her mind.
"I also... I still want to live!"
A shot rang out.
"I don't have enough strength for a full-fledged battle. But I don't need that. I need a moment."
Nanako is walking towards Xenomia.
"Two moments! Throw the blanket over her to disorient her, and then hit her with an uppercut! I'm not... Helpless... I just need to hold on for these two moments with adrenaline..."
Miya tightly gripped the edge of the blanket.

“I’m sorry, dear,” Nanako said to Xenomia when it was her turn, “nothing personal.”

"You're wrong!" Xenomia thought, barely holding back tears. "War is personal!!! Right now!"
And a burst of automatic gunfire followed from behind.
Only later, as Xenomia's consciousness calmed down, did she realize that the plan was foolish. Even if she had managed to throw the blanket before the shot, even if she had the strength to jump up, the other soldiers would have immediately shot her, intercepting her. And even if not, where would she get the strength to strike with these weak, disease-ridden hands?
Nanako's blood, surprisingly, did not cause disgust; instead, she felt pity for the woman who had been so beautiful but ended her life in such a terrible way, committing the most heinous crime, and would never be able to make amends, if she could. At the same time, this was a kind of comfort. It wasn't her, Xenomia's, blood. And not Lattro's, and not Linnea's...
Her heart was still pounding, her eyes were blurry, and she felt very sleepy again.
“Gilbert... I owe you... Thank you...”

is that all?

/I guess Imir was supposed to resurrect you... Thankfully, we didn't lose anyone else.
It was tough, though. We thought there were two snipers there (each with three shots), but there were more, and that's why the blockade didn't work.../

Is that all?

Revan, in response to the question "Is everything alright with Moriner?", replied, "His first woman died." So, I suppose he survived.

Added 3 hours 24 minutes ago
Despite her heavy thoughts, weakness eventually took its toll, and Linnea fell into a deep sleep. However, for her, this only meant that she had moved from the nightmare of reality into a nightmare created by her subconscious, based on current events. A nightmare in which she helplessly watched as her friends died one by one, calling out to her for help, while she just stood there. She stood and watched. Until, finally, she was left alone, surrounded by Darkirian soldiers. An automatic burst of fire rang out, seemingly riddled with the body of the Reimi girl, then a bright light followed, and... and Neya found herself in a hospital bed, once again in the role of an observer. Only now, people in Imperial uniforms were fighting each other, and there were no Darkirians nearby. On one side were her comrades from the academy, members of the fourth squad. On the other side were strangers standing over the patients they had killed, a disgrace to the Reimi army. Like bags of trash, members of the second group fell to the ground one after another. Someone else, in Linnea's place, might have called this a gruesome scene. But the girl herself, strangely, did not experience any particular negative emotions about what was happening. On the contrary, she was even glad that there were a few fewer scumbags in the world.

Initially, the prospects in the battle looked bleak, and Parphinora prepared herself for the fact that she would die in this battle – along with everyone else. Strangely, this thought did not cause her fear. Perhaps, the years of training of her family had an effect – a noble should not be afraid of death if it is for the good of the empire, and a follower of Alarion should not be afraid of death if it helps him save his soul from filth and vice. Fleetingly, she thought that she would truly regret not her classmates – although she bore the burden of responsibility for their lives. She would only regret Imir. Imir... Parphinora sighed.
But today, she was not destined to die. At some point in the battle, the situation completely turned in their favor, and they managed to brilliantly complete their task without any losses. This filled the girl's heart with joy. They managed to achieve at least some victory. They saved the wounded and civilians, and they saved themselves. Yes, they will have to retreat, and for a strategist of the grand game, this is a defeat – but it is her personal victory.
But the joy was short-lived. Soon, news arrived that Squad 2 had completed its task – but paid the highest price for it. Although Parphinora herself did not have much love for its members – Imir told her at one of their meetings what they had done to him – she still felt a painful pang in her chest. Was it her fault? Her miscalculation as a commander? After some analysis, she decided that no. Squad 2 was one of the strongest in her company, and if they were destroyed, then any other squad would be destroyed. And she could not send additional forces for this task.
Then came information about the traitors, about the enemy spies who tried to kill the sick. Not only was the murder of the sick and wounded a cruel and almost pointless act – something she would not have expected from the Dark Elves – but the thought that no one noticed the seeds of the impending backstab made her worry. Did no one notice anything suspicious? Alarion taught her to keep her mind free from vice, to maintain purity of thought within herself – but could her subordinates not even notice the impurity around them? For some reason, she remembered Yaspis. Yes, many condemned her for this decision, and Parphinora herself sometimes thought that she had done wrong. But if any of her soldiers had shown such vigilance, perhaps their situation today would not be so desperate.
But the main and final blow was the news of the death of Major Neils. Only after this did Parphinora realize – today they lost. And their defeat was crushing. The flank that they were supposed to defend completely collapsed, and the army of General Muscari could now be surrounded. After the death of the major, Parphinora became the next commander of the remaining forces of the battalion. The first thing to do was to inform headquarters about what had happened, so the aristocrat asked herself – what means of communication were at her disposal?...

/Back in action. Requesting a brief summary; I'll be fully engaged in a couple of hours./

In short: Linnea and Xenomia are poisoned and lying in the infirmary. Latro has frostbite and is in the infirmary. The town we were supposed to guard has been completely destroyed; we retreated and are continuing to retreat (?). Squad two (class two) has been completely destroyed, and our commanding major has been killed. We are currently trying to figure out what to do next.

Brief summary:
Moriner lost his virginity.
Scouts were ambushed by Darklings and retreated; Latro covered their retreat, miraculously survived, and ended up in the infirmary.
Neya and Miya were poisoned as a result of a Darkling sabotage and also ended up in the infirmary.
Illit was destroyed by Darkling forces; Major Niels' battalion and the city's inhabitants were surrounded by the enemy.
The first squad was sent to protect civilians.
The second squad was sent to suppress Darkling artillery.
The third squad was sent to break through the encirclement.
The fourth squad was sent to protect the sick.
The fifth squad was sent to support the main forces of the battalion.
You can find out how it all ended in Revan's latest post.

/We didn't get poisoned, we just have a stomach bug and are lying down.../

The reorganization of the empire's forces on the northern front took longer than desired, but fortunately, due to certain circumstances, the situation was not as dire as expected. At the same time, things in Major Neils' battalion, which was temporarily commanded by First Lieutenant Parphinora von Flexia, were as follows:
- Thanks to Fizalis, who was sent to the front by the imperial government, the lives of Linnea, Xenomia, and other soldiers infected with parasites were saved, and nothing prevented them from continuing their service. Unfortunately, this affliction did not pass for them without a trace, and they will have to live with a number of gastrointestinal diseases that, however, do not pose a threat to their lives.
- Again, thanks to Fizalis, Latro recovered and could continue fighting for the empire. Due to severe frostbite, however, he lost his little finger and ring finger on his left hand.
March 15th
Major Estella Zidreich was appointed commander of the remaining forces from Major Neils' battalion, as well as the arriving reinforcements. At today's meeting, she informed the subordinate officers of all the necessary information for continuing the operation.

— ... Despite the disrupted supply line, Brigadier General Realgar Muscari managed to defeat the main enemy forces hindering the further advance of our army and occupy a small town called Brute. However, it is too early to rejoice: as far as we know, the resources of the 12th Army Corps are running out, so we need to resume the supply of ammunition and food as soon as possible; otherwise, we risk losing the entire composition of the main forces of the 12th Corps. It is important to note that the victory of our forces in the northeast was largely due to the absence of the Supreme Commander of the Darkiirian armed forces during the climax of the battle. As far as we know, a few days after the Illit Battle, Count Krait Braidenwilde was recalled back to the capital to report to the Duke for the atrocities he had committed. As a result, instead of uniting with the other forces and crushing the 12th Corps, as he planned, the Supreme Commander went straight to the capital along with all the forces available to him at that time. You already know what happened next.
According to information received from recent news, Krait Braidenwilde carried out a military coup and placed the Duke of Darkiria under house arrest. This became possible not least because a significant part of the forces at his disposal were gathered from subjects of his own county. In another situation, the Darkiirians would certainly have revolted against the illegal regime, but in the current situation, they probably preferred a dictator to imperial invaders.
Having finished with this somewhat good, somewhat bad news, she turned to those who had been involved with the Reima Military Academy.
- On March 9, Maya Nothaft and Gengoro, acting on their own initiative, invaded the residence of Count Krait Braidenwilde with the intention of eliminating him, but both fell in battle. This information has no strategic significance, but I deemed it necessary to inform you of this, given that they were both teachers and students at the academy where you studied. — She gave them a few moments for this information to sink in. — Now, if you have any questions, we will proceed to the final part of today's meeting.

-No questions, ma'am.

The news about the complete annihilation of the second battalion wasn't entirely unexpected; it would have been foolish to hope that none of her comrades would die in the war, but still, Linnea didn't take it well. In comparison, the illnesses caused by parasites seemed like a minor issue. She couldn't help but emphasize the tragedy that Wizenia, who had clearly expressed her reluctance to fight, was the first of her friends to die. And now, even if all the others return from the war safe and sound, the atmosphere of the literary club will irrevocably change – without the young witch's stories, her embarrassed reactions, and the awkward things she said, it won't be the same. With great effort, Neya suppressed the rising sadness and anger day after day, preventing them from turning into a desire for revenge. Such a path leads nowhere and only results in new tragedies. They must win this war, and to do that, they need to keep a cool head.

Initially, Moriner assumed he would be assigned to wait peacefully for the results of the operation to break through the encirclement and destroy the Darkiir artillery, but, as it turned out, the command decided that he could be useful directly on the battlefield. There was no hope for a special assignment – the enemy still didn't differentiate between military and civilians. But retreating in the face of danger, citing his position, would be a low and unworthy act in the difficult circumstances. No, he had to be with his unit, just as he was during combat training exercises, working together to overcome obstacles and move forward, no matter what. The only difference was that the price for a mistake was now much higher. The young journalist clearly understood the orders given to him. Bullets whistled overhead and shells exploded, the snow, blackened by dirt and blood, crunched coldly under his wet feet, and the roar of cannon and tank fire merged into a single, heart-wrenching cacophony of horror and death. Under the cover of a tank, sinking to his shins in the snowdrifts, not really understanding what was happening, he hurried forward, following Azarina. Suddenly, the combat vehicle in front shuddered from a terrible blow, slowed down for a moment, as if trying to overcome its own pain, and then, with effort, moved forward again. Another explosion, a flash of bright light, momentarily illuminating their frightened faces, a rain of metal fragments and chunks of snow mixed with earth. In the next second, bullets whistled from all sides. Some of them hit Azarina, but she continued to run confidently forward, as if nothing had happened. Moriner's soul froze in horror, but his body automatically decided to move forward. The first volleys of shots hit the magic shield directly – with a kind of ringing echo, the distorted bullets fell on the snow under his feet. But then the sound of shattering glass was heard – the spell had exhausted its power and dissipated into the air, leaving the journalist without any protection. Time seemed to slow down for him, giving him a chance to fully enjoy the feeling of his own helplessness. He knew he wouldn't make it, but he couldn't do anything about it. "Maybe I can distract them, even if only for a short time?" The targeted fire from Darkiir snipers hit its mark this time. Moriner heard the familiar whistle again, and then felt the bullets, easily piercing the light armor, pierce his flesh. Making an involuntary, moaning sound, the journalist collapsed onto the dirty snow. His consciousness quickly faded. He came to his senses a little later, when the outcome of the battle was already practically decided. Someone dragged him away from the deadly dangerous spot. Imir, who was nearby, was casting healing spells on other wounded soldiers. For the umpteenth time in the last year, the journalist tried to get up and examine his own wounds. The fresh northern wind cleared his head a little. In the distance, bright lights were visible, and pillars of black smoke rose into the sky. Were those Illit, enemy artillery, what was the fate of the civilians and the wounded – all these questions brought him back to life. Yes, fate had undoubtedly given him a little more time to suffer in this terrible world. For a moment, Moriner even regretted that he hadn't died. Soon, they were again ordered to retreat, and through pain and fatigue, he followed the remnants of the battalion. In vain, looking at the faces of the soldiers, he hoped to see a glimmer of hope – their faces, like his own, were darker than night and expressed nothing good. Their escape seemed to last for an eternity, and the enemy did not give up, intending to mercilessly destroy all the survivors. The news that they had finally broken out of the encirclement was received by Moriner with exceptional delight. But soon, completely different news, relayed in the hastily constructed camp, again darkened the general mood. No matter how much he prepared for the harsh realities of war, in reality they still exceeded all possible expectations. The journalist was not familiar with the other members of the first-year class, but he still felt as if, with their death, he himself had lost something close and familiar. Nothing would ever be the same again. And another unpleasant thought continued to torment him more than the pain from his wounds – he would have to write about all this, not only reliving all the horrors of that January night, but also presenting them in a positive light. The very thought of this chilled the young man's soul, but he firmly decided not to deviate from the chosen path. At least in memory of those who fell in Illit.