Codegease: Air and Land Warfare 1946

"However, this time is different from the past. We may be facing an enemy we have never encountered before, and weapons and equipment we have never encountered before. In other words, our seemingly invincible legion may not be able to dominate the battlefield in that world. Therefore, we must proceed with caution!"

"The Camelot Gate was completed under my supervision, so I feel it's necessary to explain something to you all." Schneizel rose from his seat and stood up. "After the 'Eternal Protocol' successfully used the Camelot Gate to travel to another world for the first time, they collected samples of this unknown world near the portal on the other side. The environment there is almost identical to the world we live in; the sky, oxygen, water, and the substances that make up the earth are all the same."

“However, our luck doesn’t seem to be very good.” The prince let out a long sigh. “The view on the other side of the portal looks like an abandoned city. Our personnel lingered near the portal for a quarter of an hour, and apart from some birds that looked like crows, no creatures bothered us. In other words, we have not yet been able to make any contact with the civilization of this other world.”

"Then I ask you all, when you encountered things you'd never seen before on the battlefield, what did you do? What were your fates? What mistakes did you make?"

Schneizel's words were like a bucket of cold water, instantly silencing the previously noisy conference room.

General Marendor, who had spoken first, now scratched his head, recalling a battle with the EU a few months earlier: he encountered a new type of artillery, and due to his arrogance at the approach of victory, he fell into an enemy ambush, his vehicle reduced to a blazing inferno. If it weren't for his old subordinates risking their lives to pull him out of the jammed cockpit, who knows which knight would be laying flowers on his tombstone by now.

“I agree with Your Highness’s opinion,” Duke Saslais, sitting on the other side, raised his hand in agreement. “My idea is that we can first organize several of our troops together as our vanguard, sacrificing a small number of soldiers to find out the strength of those enemies in the other world. If they cannot fight us, then we can launch a massive attack and crush them with one heavy blow. And if we really don’t have the ability to fight, then even if we cannot withdraw our troops in time, we will not suffer too much loss.”

“But,” Baron Holt spoke again, “our situation isn’t exactly looking good. Our elite troops haven’t fully recovered, and the cannon fodder probably haven’t even had a chance to thoroughly understand the enemy before being reduced to a wrecked, defeated army. And if the cannon fodder becomes prisoners and reveals all our resources, wouldn’t our expedition, which could have proceeded smoothly, be completely wasted?”

"Yes, it would be perfect if a unit with some combat experience, whose losses are not a big deal, could be sent to serve as the vanguard."

The meeting room suddenly fell silent, with only a few murmurs remaining.

"Uh..." Seeing that no one reacted, Odysseus, who was chairing the meeting, couldn't help but speak up. "Well, can't anyone find a suitable candidate?"

The eldest prince, who had never been skilled in military affairs, couldn't help but show a troubled expression. However, he keenly noticed that Duke Saslais, who had spoken earlier, was not lost in thought like everyone else. Instead, he was leisurely looking back and forth at the people in front of him, looking quite confident.

“Since no one has any ideas,” the Duke suddenly said, turning his gaze to a seat in the corner of the conference room. “Caronville, could you perhaps put down the ‘plate’ you’re holding?”

With a single sentence, everyone's gaze, following the Duke, instantly converged on the handsome-looking officer. Like a student caught behaving in class, he awkwardly placed his tablet on the table.

"Um... here..." He didn't even look up—perhaps because he didn't dare to look the Duke in the eye—and uttered his first sound in the conference room.

"I apologize, Your Grace, but my adjutant has sent word that a bunch of greenhorns in the camp are fighting with the knights again, and they've destroyed our only water tower. They might be gone tonight..."

"Lieutenant Colonel! This is a military meeting, don't bring up trivial family matters here!" The Duke suddenly lost his temper and roared loudly. It seemed that this was not the first time such a situation had occurred between the two.

"Alright, Your Excellency, please don't be angry." Baron Holt once again acted as a peacemaker. "Well then, young man, since the Duke has brought you before us, may I ask which unit has been honored to fall under your command?"

Upon seeing this, Caronville sat up.

"I am Thakus Caronville, the newly formed commander of the Merica Training Regiment of the 11th District of the 45th Army. Please give me your guidance."

The mere mention of the name "Merica Training Corps" elicited a cold sneer from the crowd. Everyone knew that this unit was recently formed from soldiers who had defected from the EU and the Chinese Federation, colonial refugees intending to join the army, and a large group of death row inmates. The difference between them and a prisoner-of-war camp was that their camp had no soldiers monitoring them.

"Wow! A warden of a bunch of thugs! No wonder he tore down his own water tower!" Maren, upon hearing this, immediately became amused, his face lighting up with excitement. "Speaking of which, Lieutenant Colonel, your men must have killed far more people than we have on the battlefield, right? Because you guys shoot us in the back, don't you? Hahaha!"

"Ha ha ha ha!--"

The major general's sarcastic and defamatory joke did indeed tickle the funny bone of many people in the room.

“Well then, Your Excellency Major General.” Caronville’s expression remained unchanged. Instead, he casually swiped a few times on the computer screen and turned it toward the Major General.

"You haven't forgotten this old subordinate, have you?" The screen displayed a photo of a military officer.

"Ah, Kari, my old subordinate, I know he's your adjutant now! What's wrong?" The major general's face instantly went from sunny to cloudy. "I know! A while ago, I was ordered by the higher-ups to improve the combat effectiveness of you guys who are supposed to be cannon fodder, so they sent a lot of our veteran troops to give you a boost."

"So?" Caronville tilted his head and raised an eyebrow at the major general.

"Let me tell you, you brat!" The lieutenant colonel was about to say something, but the general cut him off. "A rotten orange is a rotten orange! Don't think that just because you have a teacher, you can be on equal footing with us! And let me warn you one last time, don't use Colonel Kari's personal safety as a bargaining chip when you're doing business with me. If I find out you've framed him, you can expect to be heading to the execution ground!"

After saying that, the major general slammed his hand on the armrest of his chair, as if he had endless rage for anyone who did not belong to the empire.

“Thank you for your trouble, sir.” Caronville breathed a sigh of relief, seemingly unfazed. “Have you forgotten that there was another sentence following that order: After the reserve army’s training is completed, those who participated in the training can voluntarily apply to return to their original units. In other words, if this role as the vanguard is our regiment’s assessment, rest assured, whether or not you want the colonel to come back and report to you is entirely up to you.”

"If I see him come back in a body bag, you'd better pray I don't cause you any trouble!" Although the major general's tone was still quite angry, it was clear that he seemed to have accepted this nonchalant reply.

"Then, Your Grace," Guilford asked Duke Sassler, taking advantage of a rare lull in their argument, "can you really guarantee that this regiment is loyal to Britannia? After all, with so many unstable factors, what if they defect on the battlefield..."

“Oh, you can’t say that!” The Duke shook his head. “Although they may seem disorganized, I dare say they won’t do any better than your regular troops! The training regiment has been established for so long, and all they do is fight and brawl every now and then…”

"Ah, of course, this is also related to those pure-blooded knights." The Duke seemed to realize he had said something wrong and quickly raised his hand to add, "At other times, I have basically not received any news of these soldiers doing anything outrageous such as desertion, being late, returning late, or leaking secrets. If I remember correctly, in the last daily training assessment, their average score was even higher than the standard line. Doesn't that make some of your front-line units look bad?"

The Duke praised the Duke, his proud smile evident on his face.

"So, Your Excellency, how many combat personnel does the training regiment have? And what about its equipment?"

“Well…” Caronville interjected again, “There aren’t many personnel, just over 1600. The number of mechs is less than one-eighth of our beds, so we can only train in shifts. The assault guns and armored vehicles are still sufficient…”

"Huh? How can such a force lead the charge?" The crowd immediately began to discuss among themselves.

“No, that’s enough…” Schneizel suddenly spoke up, “Does anyone know how many foreign troops like the Merica Training Corps are left in Area 11?”

“I know that. I participated in the reorganization and training of these units,” the lieutenant colonel continued. “Besides my subordinates, Area 11 also has 16 foreign service units of varying sizes, totaling over 8,000 personnel, among which…”

The soldiers were quite surprised as they watched Caronville's incessant ramblings, especially General Malen, with whom he had just argued.

"This kid..." the major general thought anxiously, "What's his background...?"

"OK, that's all." After saying that, Caronville looked at everyone with a relaxed expression, casually poked the tablet on the table, and started playing with it like a spinning top.

"Hmm, very good." His Highness seemed quite satisfied with this scene. "Then, gentlemen, I will now announce..."

He glanced at Odysseus, only to see the First Prince pause for a moment, then raise his hand somewhat helplessly, signaling him to continue.

"The vanguard of the expeditionary force will be composed of all non-Brittanian troops from District 11, with Lieutenant Colonel Thacus Caronville as the commander-in-chief. Starting today, these troops will be stationed near the Shinjuku concentration camp outside the Tokyo Concession for three days of integration training. At 7:00 AM four days later, they will assemble fully armed at the City Hall parade ground for a pledge ceremony, and then immediately proceed to the New World to begin the battle!"

"Furthermore, orders have been sent to the 37th Army Group on Sakhalin Island and the troops in the Ryukyu Islands to transfer the foreign troops formed in the last three months to the 11th District in three days as an emergency reserve supplement to the vanguard army and to handle the initial and subsequent preparation work! The other main Imperial forces in the 11th District will remain at their original locations and stand by at any time!"

"I now declare the meeting adjourned!!!"

After he finished speaking, everyone stood up and shouted in unison.

"Yes, your highness!"

……

"Hey, Sehir, do you really think the world can be at peace?"

"I don't know. Perhaps it's because we cherish peace that we prepare for war..."

Section 3, Chapter 3: New Footprints on the Mottled Ruins

The three short days passed in the blink of an eye, like traffic flowing on a highway or bullets flying in a shooting range.

The fourth day, the parade ground behind the city hall.

Britannian flags flew gracefully along the surrounding city walls, fluttering in the morning sea breeze above the parade ground. Soldiers, standing in neat formation, head held high, exuded confidence and triumph, like a victorious army. Vehicles and mechs, similarly arranged like ancient Roman phalanxes, stood proudly with their cannons raised high, their massive bodies unwavering, their steel surfaces gleaming in the morning sun.

At the very front of the formation, beneath the Gate of Camelot, a mech stood silently, a machine gun in its right hand and a cloak made of the Imperial flag draped over its left shoulder. Karonville, already in his pilot's uniform, sat reclining in the open cockpit, sunlight caressing his handsome yet slightly weary face, as if trying to listen to his innermost thoughts.

He kept his head down, not glancing at the sky or the reviewing stand, not caring about the arrival of the prince. He tilted his head, his gaze fixed on the rows of control panels in the driver's seat.

……

Three tall figures were strolling leisurely in the passageway leading from the city hall to the reviewing stand.

"Your Highness Schneizel, do you really trust these soldiers who aren't even second-class citizens? And that pretty boy playing on the computer during the meeting?" The figure on the right spoke first.

“Never judge a book by its cover, Marendor.” Schneizel’s voice came from the middle figure. “A true warrior is not necessarily revealed by his appearance. Sometimes, you have to go to the battlefield to find out.”

"Speaking of which, Your Highness, have you issued any battle plans for Caronville? Although as his superior, I don't deny his capabilities, he is still somewhat inexperienced..."

"When did you learn to worry about your prized subordinate, Sassler?" The prince smiled at the duke on his left. "You probably don't know, but after the meeting that day, he came to me and 'Eternal Agreement' demanding the survey records of the environment around the otherworld landing site. I also heard that the day before yesterday, he went to the logistics department and the supply department of Area 11 and caused a little trouble over supplies and equipment."

"So my attitude is that although I can't be sure he'll be promoted after this battle, I can tell he won't let these soldiers die in vain."

"As expected of someone I personally promoted, good lad." The Duke's lips curled up again.

With a muffled thud, the gate at the end of the passage was opened by two royal guards, and Prince Schneizel, General Malen, and Duke Sasler stepped onto the reviewing stand as the sun rose.

Like a cheetah that has caught the wind, Caronville grabbed the megaphone and stood up abruptly.

"salute!--"

Almost simultaneously, the soldiers on the parade ground all suddenly brought their heels together, raised their chests, and held their rifles, which were tightly gripped at their waists with the muzzles pointing upwards and the butts downwards, upright at their hearts. They slightly raised their chins and looked directly at His Highness the Prince on the reviewing stand.

The sudden, resounding halt, like a heavy hammer blow, shook the earth beneath their feet, surged up the colossus before the Gate of Camelot, and pounded against the surrounding city walls, as if waking the entire city hall from its slumber.

“Very good…” The prince was clearly very satisfied with the scene before him. He raised his right hand in return to the soldiers in the parade ground.

"Ceremony complete!" Caronville's loud voice rang out again, and every soldier immediately returned to their more relaxed stance.

"Soldiers!" The prince addressed the high-spirited phalanx, speaking into the microphone.

"It is an honor that you will serve as the vanguard of the Imperial Expeditionary Force to conquer another world! I am very pleased with your courage and fearlessness in the face of powerful enemies!" This is a massive cloud drive (over 10,000 books) compiling the latest popular books from Feilu's online rankings and other Feilu and Hedgehog Cat novel resources.

This book is for exchange and learning purposes only. The copyright belongs to the original author and publisher. If you like it, please support the original version.

"You all have your own unspeakable difficulties—yes, originally none of you were subjects of the Britannian Empire; you were all enemies of the Empire. But now, you have made your own decisions, choosing to abandon past views and animosities, and stand together under a new banner, ready to prove to your former comrades and compatriots that it was a huge mistake for them to oppose the Empire on the battlefield!"

"And that is precisely why we have treated you with such coldness due to misunderstandings, doubting your abilities, your loyalty, your status as soldiers, as warriors who have risked their lives, and even your very existence! But clearly, you are not a rabble! You have endured humiliation and hardship, proving yourselves in the army, waiting to make those who belittled and slandered you look at you with new eyes, waiting to create a new future for yourselves! And that day has finally arrived, today! You will be the new focus of the empire's attention!"

"Warriors of the Empire! Prepare to pull the trigger! Rage your steel steeds! Crush any maggots who dare to take up arms against you! The time has come to serve the Empire!"

"Yes! your highness!——"

"Your Highness!" Caronville shouted, still standing on his mech. "Troops are ready! Please give the orders!"

"Set off!--"

As soon as the words were spoken, the soldiers who had been standing quietly in the parade ground immediately began to busy themselves. Rifles clicked crisply as they were cocked, and armored vehicle crews and mech pilots entered their compartments one after another to start their vehicles. Soon, the parade ground transformed into a roaring hive, silencing any timid or weak voices.

While the soldiers were busy, the machines behind the Gate of Camelot were quickly surrounded by staff. Then, just like a few days before, there was a flash of lightning and a strong storm, and the other world inside the gate once again appeared in everyone's sight.

"The vanguard of the Empire!" Caronville, already seated in his mech, turned on the mech's loudspeaker, turned the vehicle towards the formation behind him, and forcefully swung the massive arm behind him.

"go ahead!--"

……

The clouds in the sky had not yet dispersed, and the sun had already faintly peeked out from the rooftops in the distance.

Everything is the same as it was a few months ago; the gray fog still occupies the mornings here, wandering among the ruins, which is its paradise.

"Mom, hurry up!"

On the wide, cratered road, a mother and child strolled one after the other in this rather eerie place.

The little boy was full of innocent liveliness, with short golden hair, wearing a slightly tattered short-sleeved shirt and overalls, and gray shoes stepping on the stones beside the crater. Every now and then he would bend down, pick up a stone, draw circles on the ground, or throw it from his hand to a place he couldn't reach.

Behind them, the mother, wearing a dress, followed slowly behind the boy, carrying two books in her arms, her steps slow and firm on the mottled pavement. She looked around, surveying her once beautiful home, now covered in gravel and broken walls, and glanced occasionally at her child, who was hopping and skipping among the stones.

Her eyes were filled with sorrow, and the ground beneath her feet was all too familiar to her—the once wide and beautiful Charlottenburg Street, the place where she learned to ride a bicycle as a child. And now, still in this place, it had become so small that it could no longer even accommodate a bicycle wheel, and the once lush green trees along the roadside were now mostly twisted and withered after the war.

Looking back down the street she had come from, the sun still hadn't shone its light on her footprints. She seemed to be waiting for someone who had walked with her, or perhaps she could hear someone calling her name from not far behind.

"Mom!" The child who had been playing with stones came running back from the front, holding something in his hand.

"Mommy! Look! A gem!" The child raised his right arm, holding a shiny object between his fingers. As he waved his little hand, it faintly emitted a small, fleeting glimmer of light.

The child ran to his mother, who was already kneeling down and looking at him, and handed her the gemstone in her outstretched right hand. It was a diamond ring, almost completely broken, lying quietly in his mother's calloused and scarred palm, like a butterfly just emerging from its cocoon, dazzling and radiant.

The mother didn't say anything, but smiled and reached out her other hand to touch her son's head.

"Ralph, what do you want to be when you grow up?"

The child suddenly grabbed a book that her mother had placed on her lap and held it up high with the cover facing her mother.

"I want to become a big Luca! To protect Mom!"

Luca, the tall knight in the storybook his mother bought for him, was an unusually tall knight in armor who robbed the rich to help the poor. He was the boy's most admired character. Even in his sleep, he could still vaguely recite Luca's favorite phrases.

The mother's smile widened, her smile radiating happiness, as if her son's brief words were the most precious gift she had ever received.

She picked up her son, leaned him against her, and continued walking in that direction—a little further on, and she would see the Brandenburg Gate.

But as soon as she took a step, three figures, each carrying a rifle, emerged like ghosts from the mist ahead. She frowned, then quietly put the child back on the ground, straightened up, and calmly continued walking forward. The child quickly ran to a pile of stones and resumed playing, still engrossed in his game.

Her gaze was fixed on a large tree by the roadside that had long been blown down by artillery shells. Avoiding the gaze of the three uninvited guests, she glanced at the three soldiers out of the corner of her eye—they were so close that she could see that their clothes looked rather sloppy.

Gradually, the green military uniform and helmet, the Coca-Cola bottle in his hand, the mouth tilted to the side and chewing randomly—with chewing gum inside, exuding a strong Yankee Boy vibe—came into the mother's eyes.

Two of them, with cigarettes dangling from their lips and heads tilted like cats peeking into a mouse hole, were "admiring" the approaching beauty with their arms around each other's shoulders. They would occasionally exchange glances, like thieves plotting something.

However, compared to the two beggars, the soldier standing tall and straight handed the Coke bottle to his companion after seeing her, then left the other two and walked straight towards his mother.

Normally, when faced with these soldiers who weren't doing their jobs properly, my mother would simply ignore them and walk past them—of course, if she were forcibly stopped, that would lead to other unpleasant outcomes. But this time, the soldier walking towards her had a steady and firm gait, like a company employee rushing to work. He not only politely spat out his chewing gum beforehand but also pulled out several things that looked like registration forms from his pocket.

"Hello, madam, do you speak English?" the soldier asked in broken German.

“I won’t understand if you speak German.” The mother stopped with a slight smile and spoke a fairly fluent English word to the polite soldier.

"Okay, then I have a question I'd like to ask you. Could you perhaps take up a little of your playtime with your child?"

"Go ahead."