The Special Response Brigade under Sony Chepelin was now set to transfer the blockade operation of the western port of Fort Morok to another division of the southern corps.
It was only natural.
Nur Ezenner was practically a mouse in a cat’s mouth.
The ongoing supply pressure and the threatening bombardments from Okhraine had been perfect for breaking the morale of the forces trapped in Fort Morok.
One after another, soldiers from the Azoff 1st Regiment were surrendering almost daily after landing in the city.
Some even escaped with detained civilians, hoping for better treatment.
Anyone with even a bit of military knowledge could tell how low the morale had sunk, even a first-year cadet at a military academy would understand.
Yet, there was no reply from Nur Ezenner, who could be considered the de facto leadership.
I couldn’t even fathom what he was thinking anymore.
However, the newly established Landing Command was in dire straits.
“How will we organize our forces? The Landing Command should have at least one division under its command.”
“We are starting from scratch! We need not just a month, but an additional two months!”
Sony Chepelin confidently said a month would suffice, but her staff officers were at their wits’ end.
Their duties were limited to brigade level, but suddenly they were thrust into a command-level situation, which was naturally causing panic.
Their colonel had been promoted to a major general with two more stars, and now they had to form a new landing division under the command of the Landing Command.
The brigade headquarters had become the precursor to the Landing Command, and they needed to manage a larger organization beyond just the Special Response Brigade.
They faced an enormous administrative gap that needed to be filled within days.
They began to exploit the overwhelming personnel authority promised by the regent and the “wartime conditions” as a cheat code.
“First, we need to reorganize the logistics support brigade.”
“We’ll bring in a relatively less important logistics battalion from the western corps. He won’t complain if we give him another star on his collar.”
“Our staff is woefully inadequate.”
“Just promote them! Send out notices to everyone with experience and good judgment to join!”
With limits lifted, the Landing Command started to rapidly absorb talents from the remaining four corps, excluding the southern corps that was to be part of the offensive in this ‘Second Quernen War’ (named by the regent).
Of course, they didn’t solely draw talents from other corps.
This wasn’t StarCraft; pressing M wouldn’t conjure up nonexistent troops.
The command headquarters began luring talents scattered across the brigade battalions by dangling promotions as bait.
The 8th Aerial Mage Infantry Combat Unit couldn’t escape this either.
“Colonel Joseph Lebandovsky.”
“Don’t be too disheartened. You have so many excellent talents around you right now.”
Joseph Lebandovsky, who was one of Sony Chepelin’s closest advisors and most trusted staff members, was someone no one could argue against.
He skipped over the rank of lieutenant colonel and became a colonel, joining the command staff as the head of the operations department of the Landing Command.
“The newly appointed chief of staff, Major Eisen Hoover, is also an outstanding talent. You know how he handled our unit’s dire logistical needs effortlessly.”
“I know Eisen’s abilities well. I’m not worried.”
“I entrust the 8th Aerial Mage Infantry Combat Unit to you, Lieutenant Colonel Enok Revendale.”
And I, too, benefited from this.
From captain to major in seven months.
From major to lieutenant colonel in two months.
“What kind of promotion speed is this?”
Since Sony Chepelin had become a major general, she couldn’t hold dual positions like before.
But with Joseph, who outranked me in both rank and experience, also moving to the command staff, the position of commander of the combat unit became vacant.
Thus, unable to select a commander from experienced staff officers, I naturally took over as the third in command as the commander of the 8th Aerial Mage Infantry Combat Unit.
Given that the concept of a mage infantry combat unit had only recently been recognized in the Ukrainian army, I was effectively the first commander.
“You would have been a colonel by now if you had joined the military three years earlier.”
“That’s quite an exaggeration.”
“I’m serious. Your name has come up as a third candidate for brigade commander. While others might not know, your superior commanders within the same brigade highly appreciate your outstanding skills and abilities.”
Joseph chuckled, lightly tapping my shoulder insignia with its pair of shining silver daisies.
“Thank you for all your hard work. I hope we meet again at a higher place.”
“Thank you for your efforts.”
“Don’t d*e.”
Thus, the father figure who had nurtured the 8th Aerial Mage Infantry Combat Unit left. I watched Joseph depart in the carriage heading towards the command headquarters until the very last moment.
“Now the real work begins.”
The rapid promotions.
While it might seem positive, it also revealed the severe depletion of manpower in the Ukrainian army.
Even in wartime, being promoted from major to lieutenant colonel or from captain to major in such short periods was significant.
Like the United States, which typically downsizes the military after a war and expands it during wartime, this was no small matter.
“Then, we shouldn’t let our combat unit suffer from the same issues.”
Considering our previous achievements and the trust I’ve gained from Major General Sony Chepelin.
If an amphibious assault occurs, we’ll likely be the vanguard, leading the charge to break the spirit of Azoff.
Or, as before, we might be dropped behind enemy lines to cause chaos.
In either case, it would be a high-risk mission compared to regular operations involving thousands or tens of thousands of troops.
“We should start organizing our personnel.”
As the first commander, my initial task was to reorganize the combat unit.
“Excuse me… Are you here?”
A blue eye gleamed through slightly parted hair, revealing a diamond-encrusted rank insignia. Lieutenant Hilton Callia cautiously opened the quiet tent.
Hilton still couldn’t fully grasp that he had become a lieutenant, but he wasn’t alone.
Most of the 8th Aerial Mage Infantry Combat Unit felt the same way.
Even his direct superior, Captain Claude Rain, responded nonchalantly.
“Company commander…?”
“Hilton, is it?”
Inside the tent, where only a single candle flickered, Captain Claude Rain stood up from his seat, placing a large bottle of liquor on the desk while examining a map.
Despite being in civilian clothes with bare arms, he exuded the unmistakable aura of a seasoned field soldier, regardless of whether he was a sergeant or a captain.
“Something wrong?”
“Um… I just came because I felt uneasy.”
“Easily rattled?”
Claude’s eyes narrowed.
Hilton Callia was the bravest and strongest combatant on the battlefield, yet once off the battlefield, he became a docile person.
This stark contrast was something even experienced commander Claude Rain found difficult to adapt to.
“Is it because of Operation Neptune?”
“Yes…”
Neptune.
The name of the sea god worshipped by islanders in ancient times.
Naming the amphibious operation to turn Azoff into a wasteland after the god worshipped in Azoff’s folk religion was a wicked decision by Sony Chepelin.
To strike with the name of the god they worshiped.
But to Claude, it was a fitting name. He was the one most eager to crack open Azoff’s skull.
“Why are you so uneasy? Just follow the plan.”
“I… I’m not sure if this is right.”
Hilton sat down on a makeshift bed in the tent.
“Huh, you were so confident about wiping out Azoff during our first meeting, and now you’re having second thoughts?”
“No… Even now, thinking about Azoff makes my anger boil.”
“Then what’s the problem?”
“I’m afraid of crossing the line.”
Hilton’s rage, built from battles, erupted whenever he thought of those who ruined his childhood.
He broke the necks of those who aimed guns at him and shot down those fleeing with screams, completely cutting off their airways with dark mana.
But this operation was different.
Their blades weren’t just aimed at Azoff’s soldiers.
With the establishment of the Landing Command and the planning of a large-scale amphibious operation, there would surely be innocent civilians among those affected.
“What if I lose control and cross a point of no return?”
Ukraine had always been in a defensive position.
At least until now.
With the invaders landing in Ukraine, Hilton could slaughter them without any guilt.
But Operation Neptune changed everything. It was the first time Ukraine was taking an offensive role in a war.
She was uncertain about what might happen when she lost herself in battle.
The moment she entered combat, Hilton Callia ceased to be Hilton Callia.
She became a naaghaa, a demon devouring the lives of every enemy she encountered on the battlefield.
That’s why she was afraid.
“I’m scared. I’m afraid I might devour those who shouldn’t be devoured.”
She hated Azoff but also pitied them.
Hatred had been passed down for centuries. Azoff invaded Ukraine, and Ukraine repelled Azoff.
Children of both sides grew up with horrific memories, continuing the cycle of hatred.
She didn’t want to be part of that cycle.
If she lost herself and killed everyone indiscriminately, what difference would it make from the killers of Azoff she remembered?
“Hilton.”
A rough hand rested on her trembling shoulder.
“Remember, you have subordinates and superiors who trust you. Never forget that.”
“Claude Company Commander…”
“If it gets too tough, talk to me. I’ll help. I may be useless, but I won’t refuse a request from a valued subordinate.”
Claude’s golden eyes shimmered faintly. Looking into those eyes always brought a sense of peace.
Always leading his soldiers to the frontlines, a beacon of guidance.
“Thank you, Company Commander.”
“Mm.”
Claude Rain nodded and returned to his chair, slumping down.
“By the way.”
“Yes?”
“If you have some free time, how about we have a drink together, Lieutenant?”
Clang.
The transparent glass was already filled with liquor.
“Recently, the unit commander has been busy. It’s better to face things together.”
Claude smiled.
Though his smile was rare, Hilton took the glass immediately.
“Not much time left, but I count on you, Lieutenant.”
“With all my heart, Company Commander.”
Two soldiers entangled in a long history with Azoff forgot their past for a moment and clinked glasses.
Clang.
Operation Neptune.
The remaining time until the Azoff amphibious operation.
D-20.
