86--EIGHTY-SIX

Volume 4. Chapter 1: Duty Calls
86 – Eighty-Six

The stench of death lingered over the joint headquarters of the Federacy’s Western Front. The last operation had cost the Federacy hundreds of thousands of lives—four corps and over sixty percent of their total forces. Even transport vehicles couldn’t keep up with the removal of the deceased, temporarily turning the base into a morgue.

“The Eighty-Six strike force.”

Though spring had arrived, the air felt unnaturally cold as Major General Richard Altner, commander of the 177th Armored Division and the Republic of San Magnolia’s Expeditionary Unit, spoke the name of the unit.

“An autonomous mobile strike force piloting Reginleifs to suppress key Legion positions. Essentially, a foreign unit composed of the Eighty-Six... So, will they finally get to greet their queen?”

He surveyed the soon-to-be office of this “queen,” the foreign officer from the former Republic of San Magnolia, before turning his gaze to the person across from him. The aroma of substitute coffee wafted between them.

“What do you think? Will they manage?”

“I have no doubts about their combat potential.”

A cold smile appeared on the composed face of Commodore Willem Ehrenfried, the Western Front Army Chief of Staff, whose pale complexion was characteristic of noble birth.

“Most of the Eighty-Six we’ve taken under our protection are what they call callsign bearers. Veterans who’ve spent years fighting in the Eighty-Sixth Sector, despite a survival rate of less than one in ten. They’re far superior even to our soldiers who’ve undergone standard combat training. From a tactical standpoint, it would be unthinkable not to use them.”

Even though it was just substitute coffee, it was brewed properly and elegantly served in porcelain cups. Enjoying the floral aroma of the hot drink, Willem continued:

“And we now have a good grasp of the Reginleifs’ practical application. Their mobility allows them to match even Legion Wolves at full speed. Thanks to the Eighty-Six, the Legion won’t be getting their hands on our precious operators anymore.”

“Willem, I was asking whether the Eighty-Six can manage psychologically,” Major General Altner interjected.

He placed his coffee cup back on its saucer with a soft clink of porcelain.

“They know no peace, have no homeland, and nothing to defend on this battlefield... Do you really believe they can become the Federacy’s sword, despite the constant friction with our own troops whenever they’re stationed together?”

The first group of Eighty-Six accidentally rescued by the Federacy was a prime example. Though they were shown peaceful lives, they couldn’t—or perhaps wouldn’t—accept them. Their reckless determination to plunge into battles with near-zero survival odds struck fear into the Federacy soldiers. Despite their numerous accomplishments, which far exceeded those of the Federacy army, they were scornfully referred to as “monsters raised by the Republic.”

One thing Willem knew for sure: dragging those who had grown up on the battlefield into a peaceful life would only confuse them, make them doubt, and eventually suffocate them.

“Good hunting dogs need a fierce temperament. A good master, Richard, knows how to aim that temperament at their enemies.”

His aristocratic phrasing, which seemed to deny the humanity of others, drew a sharp glance from Major General Altner. In response, the Chief of Staff shrugged gracefully.

“Of course, if they fail to adjust to peaceful life, we’ll all face trouble after the war... as will they. No one wants ex-soldiers turning to crime when there are no battles left to fight, do they?”

Major General Altner raised an eyebrow.

“Surprising, Willem. I thought you’d say something like, ‘The solution is to give each of them a bullet.’”

“Well, you’d have to account for the cost of fuel to burn the bodies, the psychological toll on the executioners, not to mention the paperwork to cover up the disappearances, and the bribes for everyone involved. And even with those expenses, it would eventually come to light… just like the Republic.”

After the operation to destroy Morpho, the survival of not only the United Kingdom, the Alliance, and the Republic but also other nations had been confirmed. Soon, everyone would learn of the atrocities committed by the Republic, where the Eighty-Six—known there as the Colorata—had been an oppressed minority.

The Republic’s treatment of the Eighty-Six would go down as one of the most heinous acts in recorded history. Its stained reputation would endure for decades… assuming humanity survived that long.

“Compared to all that trouble, helping them adjust to civilian life and enrolling them in a special officer academy is a far more efficient solution. We’d gain squads of young men and women with brilliant futures ahead of them... Besides...”

Willem’s smile vanished as he locked eyes with the Major General.

“After defeating Morpho and liberating the Republic, people may be celebrating, but the reality is that the war situation continues to deteriorate. The heavy losses have severely reduced the Western Front’s military capability, meaning taxes will have to rise. We need to make use of our war dogs now, while their spears are pointed at the Legion... Otherwise, the Eighty-Six might distance themselves entirely.”

†

She had seen this nightmare countless times.

On the edge of a nameless wasteland, beyond scorched and barren battlefields, a handful of skeletons, bleached by the sun, fought against a tide of metal monsters. Without supplies or support, the skeletons, worn down by the overwhelming enemy numbers, fell one by one.

The last one, a melee specialist, was surrounded by Dinosauria and torn apart. His broken high-frequency blade stabbed into the ground like a gravestone. The tragedy didn’t end there—when the Legion tore off the cockpit lantern, it revealed the blood-soaked interior. The mangled body of the Processor inside hung limp, like a rag doll. The dead were given no honor. Their bodies were ripped apart, and their heads taken.

Lena didn’t know his face. The figure in the desert camouflage uniform being pulled from the cockpit had no face.

From beginning to end, all she could do was watch. Her voice would never reach them. She couldn’t fire a single shot to support them. She could only bear witness to their horrific fate.

How many times had she woken in the middle of the night screaming his name? How many times had she activated the Para-RAID, desperately trying to connect, only to have her heart shattered again?

She had never seen the end, so she couldn’t know for sure, but this was reality. His fate must have been far worse than she could imagine. The thought alone sent a shiver down her spine.

But now, she would never see that dream again.

Federacy of Giad’s Western Front Joint Headquarters.

This was where Lena woke up that morning. She adjusted her uniform with care, buttoning up her crisp blouse, donning a black jacket, and affixing her insignia and holster. She even adjusted her cap and tucked aside her single red strand of hair. Her every move was filled with the resolve of a knight preparing for battle.

She stared into her reflection, her silver eyes matching the color of her hair. Her black uniform expressed mourning for her fallen subordinates, while the red strand symbolized the blood they had shed. Staring back at her was the fierce face of the Bloody Queen, stained with those very colors.

A knock on the door broke the morning silence just as she tightened her tie.

“Colonel?”

Lena smiled. She hadn’t seen his face… not until yesterday. But she would never forget his voice. Over the past two years, it had been a gentle support for her. His calm, steady tone and clear diction had comforted her. Now that voice was right beside her, and she would never have to see that nightmare again.@@novelbin@@

“I’m awake. Please, come in.”

There was a brief, almost hesitant pause. Then the door softly opened, and Shin stepped inside.

His black Onyx hair and crimson Pyrope eyes stood out. She had learned only yesterday that his older brother, Rei, had the opposite coloring. The steel-blue Federacy uniform seemed to suit him naturally. His slender frame and pale face matched the mental image she had formed of him from his voice, but his hardened physique was proof of years spent on the battlefield.

“Colonel, the transport will arrive at the base at 8:25. Please be ready by then.”

“Understood,” Lena replied shortly. She turned, glanced back into his crimson eyes that reflected her dark silhouette, and nodded. “I’m ready… Let’s go.”

Recently constructed, the Rustkammer Base—“Armory”—stood in Wolf’s Land, an uninhabited region bordering the former Empire and manufacturing territories. For the Eighty-Six strike force, now new to Lena, this was their main base of operations.

It was a vast installation surrounded by forests stretching westward from a nearby highland. A river separated the base from a nearby town nestled in the shadow of old fortress ruins, just a short walk away.

The barracks housed approximately ten thousand Processors and a support staff large enough for an entire battalion, along with nearly a thousand other personnel and multiple hangars for Reginleifs. There was also a runway for transport planes and a training ground spanning several sections of the base.

The base had been deliberately placed near the town not only for logistical convenience but also to help reintegrate the Eighty-Six into society. Having spent their childhoods on the battlefield, they needed a chance to acclimate to peaceful environments. The Eighty-Six who had been sheltered six months earlier were still attending a special officer academy, while the senior four—Raiden, Theo, Anju, and Kurena—had returned to the barracks under the guise of handling paperwork. This left Shin as Lena’s sole escort.

As the sun beat down mercilessly on the airfield, Shin offered to carry her luggage and the cat carrier.

“Let me take those.”

“Oh, it’s fine. They’re not heavy.”

Shin ignored her protests, took her belongings without a word, and began walking ahead. Considering it would be rude to wrest them back after his insistence, Lena reluctantly allowed it this time.