Reich Marshal of the Belkan Reich

Author notes: Chapter edited by Private Ko-xan.

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*BANG BANG BANG*

" Ya serious? Argh...! Damn it, my head is killing me..." I let out a frustrated groan. With my vision blurred, I did a quick self-diagnosis. I just noticed my head was bleeding when a female voice rang out.

" Instructor! She's awake!"

" Let me check her, you go to the others." A calm but authoritative female voice replied. I could at least make out the sound of staggering footsteps fading away amidst my ringing ears, thankfully.

" Hold still, you got grazed by a shell earlier. Let me heal your wound first." I felt a soothing sensation on my forehead as my vision started regaining its clarity. Soon after, my hearing returned, much to my gratefulness since the ringing sound was annoying.

" My gratitude, Instructor." I thanked my benefactor. Now that I could take a closer look at her, I must admit she's a beauty that could tip a castle.

With a quick search of my memory, I recalled that the one before me was my teacher. She called herself Bryn, and she is my Combat Instructor at Asgard Academy. As one of the pureblood Valkyrie descendants, she inherited their trademark silvery-white hair and hourglass body. No one knows her age though she looks like someone in her mid-twenties, which is in my strike range.

" It's good that you're all right. Our nation cannot afford to lose you right now." She nodded to herself, seeing that I had come to. Her mystifying blue eyes still keeping a close check on my condition, however.

" It's a bit early to say that, Instructor... How are we looking?" I scanned the surroundings. I'm inside a spacious, even borderline luxurious transport aircraft. Though, it has lost its shine after repetitive attacks from the Ustian aircraft. " Are the other cadets ok?"

" We incurred casualties, half of them." Instructor Bryn said with a grave tone.

" ... Damn it." I shook my head to numb the feeling of loss, and to jolt my memory. According to the script, I should be in a Condor, a lightly armed, four-engine transport aircraft, bound for a frontline airbase. As cadets of an Officer Academy, we were heading there to accrue field experience. The Academy sent two Bf-109s as escorts, and thanks to my identity, two more pairs joined midway for a total of six fighter craft. It was fine and all until an ambush from the Ustians got a jump on us.

The first to be hit was our Condor with half of my class either dead or incapacitated. Next was our two academy 109s, with little to no combat experience, those seniors didn't last long. Fortunately, the Air Force squadron managed to hold out till now.

" But things will get worse..."

" What do you mean?" Instructor Bryn asked when she heard my muttering. Right at that moment, the Condor took multiple hits along the fuselage, piercing and injuring the unfortunate ones. Thanks to my instinct, I duck below those that could leave me with fatal injuries. Still...

" This body is too underpowered." Even though I dodged most of them, I was still in the line of fire of three more. With cold sweat on my back, I couldn't help but complain about the motor skill of this body.

" Danger!" I was swept up in a warm embrace by Instructor Bryn. With her body shielding me, she deployed a golden barrier that nullified the incoming danger. I said 'nullified' as in a sudden deceleration of the bullets that touched the barrier, to the point that they fell harmlessly on the floor. It is unwise to use a block-type barrier as the bullets may ricochet and hit something else in this aircraft.

" You saved me again, Instructor." I appreciated being held in your bosom but duty calls. " I think the cockpit also got hit, we need to check it."

" Don't push yourself, I can go along." Still maintaining the embrace, Instructor Bryn calmly replied.

" I know how to handle an aircraft this size, let me go with you." I wiggled myself out of her arms and struggled to stand up. Knowing I wouldn't take no for an answer, my Instructor steadied my body and guided me to the cockpit. The moment the cockpit door was opened, our faces turned grim.

The pilot was dead, and the co-pilot was heavily injured. I wasted no time moving the dead pilot out of the seat, his body crumpled on the floor with flood flowing out of his missing head... Yikes. Anyways, I quickly took control of the aircraft as the co-pilot passed out in relief. Instructor Bryn was performing first-aid on him while I was checking the damage the Condor incurred.

Let's see: Engines 1 and 3 were shot to scrap with engine 4 sputtering in and out of service. We were leaking fuel while flying and the control surfaces weren't very responsive. Long-range comm was busted, also. In short, we're fucked.

" This scrap bucket can't stay up in the air for long, Instructor. We need to touch it down somewhere." I informed Instructor Bryn, who just sat down on the co-pilot seat.

" Can we make it to a nearby airfield?" With a deep frown, my instructor asked. To which I shook my head and grabbed the bloody headpiece that belonged to the deceased pilot. It's gross but I've been through worse, so I put it on and contacted our escort.

" This is Franka 1 to friendly escorts," Franka 1 is the callsign of this Condor. " we took intensive damage across all systems, no long-range comm, unable to maintain altitude, requesting immediate information on any flat terrain in the region ASAP."

A transmission came in a few seconds later.

" Franka 1, this is Rigel 1 off to your port side." A gray Bf-109 with blue and yellow stripes on the tail flew to the left of the Condor. " Enemy contacts were taken care of, I will now contact HQ for a secured crash zone."

Looking out the window, I nodded at the friendly pilot. " You have my gratitude, Flight Lead."

" Save it for when you make it out alive, boss." Accompanied by a raspy laugh, Rigel 1 replied.

I returned my attention to the onboard instruments. The stick sure was heavy for me alone though I think I could manage for the rest of the trip.

" While I never fly a craft of this size, I do have experience flying smaller ones. I'm sure I can be of help to you." Instructor Bryn took control of the co-pilot stick, I could feel my burden lessen.

I flipped some switches, pressed a few buttons, then dumped the fuel tanks of Engine 1 and 3. " Thanks, Instructor." Didn't forget to give her my gratitude in the process.

" Smart," She complimented with the tip of her lips curved upward, very charming indeed. " It will lessen the chance of us exploding into a fiery fireball when we land."

It felt good to be praised by beauty, I couldn't help but show a grin.

" This is Rigel 1, we have two locations in mind that can improve your chance of getting through this predicament. They're all on the same bearing with one further away from the other. The furthest one is a patch of farmlands near our forward air base while the closer one is a field that has been an active battlefield for days now. Though I doubt you can fly to the farmlands with all the holes I'm seeing from here."

" Guide us to the field, Rigel 1. Hopefully, the guys on the ground can stage a rescue later." Oh, how I wished for a safe landing in friendly territory. It was clearly not possible, however, so out of the frying pan and into the fire. Story of my life.

" Try to follow my tail then. Rigel 2 to 4 will cover you and they'll make sure no more surprise parties will be held for you. HQ will inform the guys on the ground and the Air Force will be on standby if you survive till the morrow down there. "

" A gladdening thing to hear, Franka 1 out." I heaved a deep sigh, my hair was uncomfortable thanks to the bloody headpiece and my body wasn't in tip-top shape. I really needed a smoke.

" Tired?" I glance at Instructor Bryn, trying to make myself comfortable on the chair to no avail.

" Yes." No point in lying. " This really wasn't what I have in mind for a field excursion."

" We truly did not anticipate things would turn out this bad. Just goes to say the enemy wants to remove you badly." Instructor Bryn shook her head with an exasperated smile.

" Freaking Princess of Iron and Blood, huh?" I laughed out loud at the title that was granted to me by the being that brought me here in the first place.

" Yes, all because they fear that you will grow too much, that's why they staged such an ambush. I would say they have half-succeed already."

" You know what, I'm done playing nice."

" What do you mean?"

" You will see Instructor... You will see."

" ... Fine, I await your elaboration. But please, stop calling me Instructor. You can call me Bryn."

" In- Bryn," Oops, caught me in time. " I don't think I can call you like that with people around though."

" I don't mind and to be honest, I'm tired of people looking at me like I'm the most cold-blooded drill sergeant ever. I need a bit of warmth sometimes, you know?" Was she suggesting something now, I wonder? " Heck I would be happier if you stop being stiff like you were before. The current you feel like a proper living person."

Yikes, almost blew my cover there. "As I said, I'm done being the nice girl. Being shot at gives me things to mull over."

" Hahaha, yeah... That's a legit reason to have."

We kept on bantering for a while with me being surprised at how sociable Bryn was, while she said that my current behavior suits her preferences a lot more. As for what her preferences were, I couldn't ask because engine 4 died while we were talking... Fuck!!!

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" -leph... Aleph... ALEPH!" I woke up with a start and a ringing head. Hurriedly checking my surroundings, I regained my bearing and noticed the situation I was in. The ringing also faded after I took a few deep breaths.

I'm Aleph Morrick, First Lieutenant of the Belkan Army, Commander of the 7th Motorized Infantry " Bloody Seventh", serving under the Kruger Division... Shit, General Kruger and most of the leaders of the subsidiary units were killed in that blasted barrage. I barely survived because I arrived late due to a field report. We took a devastating hit, at this rate the frontline will collapse due to the lack of leadership.

" Sigh..." No use in crying now.

" Thanks for pulling me out of that pile of rubble, Corporal." Thankfully I could live for just a while longer.

" You're welcome, Aleph, sir... What should we do now, sir?" With a look at the young man's grim face, I understood. Words must have reached the other groups already.

" ... What can we do but fight?" It's not like we have a choice. " The Time of Demons is closing in on us, once it arrives it will be a long period of ceasefire for the entire world. With all the losses we incurred fighting over this piece of land, we cannot afford to lose it otherwise it will be impossible to take it back after the Time of Demons."

" ... Say no more, sir. After we brought you to the field hospital, the guys outside sorted out their thoughts and decided to follow your order, whatever it may be." The Corporal calmly informed. I couldn't help but appreciate the fact that I have such great souls under my leadership.

" Give me a SITREP first, I want to know our status." The Corporal listed out all the things that happened during my short coma. It was not good at all. No comm with HQ, so we had to rely on runners to deliver messages. But the battlefield is a dangerous place so our runners could only reach the nearest groups to us, not the further ones on different parts of the frontline.

We have established contacts with the 13th Recon platoon, with their armored cars armed with 20mm autocannon, it's doubtful they will be usable in direct engagement.

The 88th Artillery Squad though is a different story. They're armed with 150mm field guns so they sure can put the hurt on an enemy assault. We just need to maintain good communication with them to improve our odds here.

They shall not pass our line, those damn Ustians!

My thoughts were cut short when a soldier came into my resting quarter.

" Report! Multiple aircraft spotted to our South!"

" Origin?"

" Unknown!"

" Follow me out! Have all hands prepare for an air-raid!"

" Sir, yes sir!"

Running along the trenches, our defensive position, and a relic from the time of the Great War, I quickly arrived at an observation post, tucked behind some greenery that has an excellent view of the sky.

" Sergeant, SITREP!" I ordered the anti-air chief.

" Sir, the aircraft is ours! Five of them with one being heavily damaged." He then gave me the viewing scope and pointed me at the approaching air group. " The damaged one should be a Condor, they're regularly tasked with transporting VIPs, and with one being that badly hurt. The situation up there isn't very good, sir."

" So are we, Sergeant. So are we... Wait... Bollocks, all hands prepare for combat! I want Mortars and Grenadiers prepped for a smoke barrage! Runners, contact the 88th! Tell them to be prepared for fire support call-in, VIPs in danger-"

" Sir! The Ustians are attacking us!" Another soldier barged into the OP and reported.

" God fucking damn it, give me a break! Carried out my previous orders, pronto! I want all available combatants, on the frontline, now!"

" Sir, if it's not too late to ask. What the hell is going on?" The previous Sergeant, Erwin, grabbed a Kar98k and followed me outside.

" That Condor is going for a crash landing at the field in front of us. The same fucking field that's about to be overrun by the Ustian tanks."

" Well, bollocks indeed..."

" Indeed it is, Sergeant. Indeed it is..."