Operation Bern River Crossing
Countless orcs were chewed up and spat out by overwhelming firepower. It was, quite literally, a one-sided slaughter.
And yet, even amid that carnage, one orc refused to fall back.
"NNNRAAAAAAGH!"
It was Zagros. True to his title of Great Chieftain, he flaunted his colossal bulk as he hurled himself at the lead tank.
Name:Zagros Blackdust
Status:Last Ditch Effort
The distance finally closed. Zagros reached the tank at last, and with a shriek of fury, brought his axe down on the lead vehicle's frontal armor.
CLANG-!
Sparks flew. But the sound he'd expected — the rending of cardboard — never came.
Instead, a stinging jolt shot up both of the orc's massive arms, and his teeth rattled at the scream of metal.
The axe blade had gone dull. The Empire's steel remained cold.
"……?"
The moment Zagros stared, dumbfounded, at the axe he had swung—
"Run it over."
Wheeeeeeng!
The lead tank's engine roared to life.
GRUNCHHH-!
"GAAAAAAGH!"
The hulking machine simply drove forward, shoving the orc beneath its steel treads.
Name:Zagros Blackdust
Status:DECEASED
Thus did the ambition of the Great Chieftain of the Ashen Forest get crushed under first-gear torque and smeared across the road like flattened gum.
"Cleanup's done."
I set down the radio handset. The red dots that had packed the Minimap flickered gray and vanished in an instant.
"……Colonel. Did those things actually believe they could smash a tank just now?"
Hannah asked under her breath.
"In this world, some things are better left unknown—but there are others you have to know, or you die."
I raised the radio again and gave the order.
"No time to rest. All vehicles, move out immediately."
There was no moment to savor victory. The entire battlegroup began to move once more.
GRUMBLE-RUMBLE!
Before long, the drivers and tank commanders started sensing something strange.
"Huh? She feels lighter than usual, doesn't she?"
"The RPM's not climbing, but we're picking up speed anyway?"
Naturally. I glanced over the terrain map in the corner of my Minimap. The battle had marked the end of the uphill stretch that had been plaguing us all day.
In other words, the ground beneath us now was a long, gentle downhill slope running all the way to the forest's edge.
From here on, it's an acceleration zone.
I looked out the window. Between the dense trees, tanks smeared thick with blood and gore were gliding faster and faster, as if down a slide.
[kzzt— Hammer One, this is Steel Rose.]
"Report."
[1st Company in the lead has broken 35 kilometers per hour. No engine overheating. Fuel consumption running at least fifteen percent better than projected.]
Frederica's voice carried a note of genuine awe.
[I can hardly believe it... this kind of mobility over terrain like this. We've cut at least six hours off our original transit estimate.]
"Six hours, huh."
I checked my wristwatch.
Four in the afternoon.
At this pace, we could cross the forest overnight and reach the Bern River — the exit — before the first light of dawn.
[We'll maintain speed. Hammer One, out.]
The transmission cut off.
Rumble, rrrumble-!
With a roar that shook the very earth, the Jäger Battlegroup kept rolling.
So we ran, without so much as a glance back, for hours.
Night fell before we knew it.
"Battlegroup, temporary halt at current position. Maintenance and refueling."
Grrrrumble, clank.
At my command, the long column of armor ground slowly to a stop.
I opened the hatch of the command vehicle and drank in the cold night air. The brackish stench of iron and the bite of burning diesel washed over me all at once.
"Colonel, your coffee."
Hannah had appeared at my side without a sound, holding out a steaming mug. I took it and asked,
"Thanks. Anything on the perimeter?"
"No significant magical signatures within one kilometer. The stragglers who fled this afternoon appear to have gone to ground deep in the forest."
Hannah reported crisply. I took a sip of coffee and picked up the radio.
"All units, report. 1st Battalion first."
Click.
[1st Battalion Commander here. Infantry dismounted, security perimeter established. Casualties minor. Ammunition expenditure acceptable.]
Seraphina's voice was as composed as ever. Erika reported next.
[3rd Company Commander Erika von Stahlberg here. Rear guard reports all clear.]
"Next, the armored battalion."
[Steel Rose here. Three tanks adjusting their track slack. Topping up coolant on the overheated engines. All combat-capable within thirty minutes.]
"They're slick from all that blood and gore — slipping's only natural. Tell them not to forget to clean the air intakes, unless they'd rather spend the whole drive breathing the smell of roasting meat."
[Understood.]
"Good. Issue chocolate to the men. We move in thirty minutes."
Dawn began to break.
After a forced march that hadn't stopped all night, the soldiers were already worn down to the last thread.
Crammed into the narrow cargo beds, they bounced and jolted across the Ashen Forest's rough ground — bodies slamming against steel frames with every rut in the road, chins clipping the helmet of the man beside them.
"Ugh...!"
"Hey, Hans. You alright?"
"...Think I'm gonna puke. I'd rather get off and fight another round with the orcs than do this."
"Don't say crazy things — drink some water. Bite your tongue and you'll regret it."
The soldiers stared at each other through bleary eyes. In the space where the adrenaline had drained away, crushing exhaustion and a deep chill were moving in.
"......Hey. What was that thing back there?"
"What? You saw another tree spirit or something?"
"No, up in the sky. Just now... wasn't that a Republic recon plane?"
"No way. Probably some bird of prey."
"You think? Something black circled right over our heads before it flew off..."
"Zip it, all of you!"
That was when Gunter bellowed.
"If you've got the strength to flap your jaws, use it to clean your weapons one more time! You whined that the mud had wrung you dry pushing those trucks, but apparently there's plenty left over for talking nonsense, eh?"
"N-no, Sergeant! We were just worried, is all..."
"Save your worrying for the day you get your discharge papers! If the Colonel says move, we march into a pit of hellfire if we have to. Eyes open, and keep them on the road ahead!"
At Gunter's roar, the cargo bed fell silent as the grave once more.
I watched the scene through the rearview mirror, then looked away.
And at that very moment, the radio crackled to life again.
[kzzt— Lead tank, visual contact. Straight ahead... I see light.]
Before long, our field of view opened up all at once.
A massive ribbon of water slashed across the end of the forest — the churning sweep of the Bern River.
This river was one of the reasons the Republic could afford to relax, calling the Ashen Forest a fortress granted by nature itself.
[Colonel. River width approximately eighty meters. Current is fast, riverbed is soft mud. Tank fording is impossible. The enemy does not appear to have noticed us yet.]
Frederica's report.
Instead of answering, I slowly checked the Minimap.
They're asleep. Their watch is still loose.
Across the river, the red dots blinked with lazy indifference. Judging by their movement, it hadn't even crossed their minds that we might be here.
"Where's our artillery?"
[Still en route. The follow-up artillery battalion needs at least two hours to arrive.]
"Hmm... we don't have time to wait."
I shook my head and pulled my eyes from the Minimap. Two hours would be enough for them to wake up, wash their faces, and finish morning calisthenics. The advantage of surprise would be gone.
"Then we use what's already here."
[...You mean the tank guns, Colonel?]
"That, among other things."
I spun the radio channel.
"Major Hermann — is the Acht Acht ready?"
[Kzz-kzzt. Yes, sir! Laying was finished an age ago. The barrels are practically itching, I'd say.]
The excited voice of Hermann, the Air Force flak battery commander, came through.
"Good. Targets are the pillboxes across the river. Make sure they can't so much as lift their heads."
[Just leave it to me!]
I switched back to Frederica.
"Major, deploy the tank battalion in a firing line along the bank. Shove your barrels right in their faces."
[...You're ordering direct fire on the bunkers across the river? Without infantry support for the crossing?]
"That's right. The bombers will wake them up from above. While they're still too dazed to think, we cross."
[...Roger. Tank battalion — deploy!]
GRUMBLE-RUMBLE-!
The brush along the riverbank was crushed flat, and dozens of tanks lined up in a row facing the water. Between them, the long barrels of the 88mm anti-aircraft guns leveled horizontally — not at the sky, but at the bunkers on the far bank.
Amid the shreds of dawn mist and smoke-shell fog, the barrels flickered in and out of view, again and again.
"Not yet."
I drew a breath. The river wind was cold.
"The fog. The moment it lifts — that's the day those men die."
And then.
Hsssssss...
As if by some solemn pact, the chill wind off the river began peeling away the thick blanket of mist, slowly, layer by layer.
And on the far bank, a Republic sentry — who had been idly smoking a cigarette and scratching his belly — felt his eyes nearly split wide open.
What was reflected in them was the sight of dozens of tanks and the black barrels of 88mm guns, every preparation complete, already aimed directly at him.
The cigarette between his lips dropped, clack, to the ground.
Name:Louis
Affiliation:Republic Army, 2nd Corps — Bern River Garrison
Rank:Private First Class
Status:Bewilderment — desperate to believe his eyes were lying
"Fire."
The instant the word left my lips, dozens of muzzles belched flame as one.
BOOOM-! KRA-KRAKOOM!
The earth lurched, and the river shuddered into waves.
Eighty meters. To tanks and 88s, that was point-blank range in all but name.
FWOOOOSH—
The time it took for the 88mm hypervelocity armor-piercing rounds and the tank guns' high-explosive shells to cross the river was the blink of an eye.
And the concrete bunkers on the far bank were crushed like blocks of tofu. Their thick outer walls dented inward in an instant, then — unable to contain the pressure within — burst back out in explosion.
GRUNCHHH!
The spot where the sentry had stood was already erased without a trace. All that remained was a scattering of powdered concrete and drifting red mist.
[Hahaha! Did you see that! That's the 88mm for you! Concrete, my ass!]
Hermann's voice came crackling over the radio, but I calmly kept watch on the battlefield.
First strike was a success. But...
As the dust settled, I could see the survivors moving. Even in the chaos, some were sprinting for the bunkers, some scrambling for their machine guns. There were quick ones among them.
We had to suppress them — and fast.