Sovereign

“Male militarism has consumed the world. They are no mere puppets or disposable cannon fodders – but armies. Armies that are ready to dismantle the order we have painstakingly created and enforced. Armies that are ready to turn back our hard-won rights centuries away. Armies that we would have to stop – as one."

- Princess Yumi Kawasaki of the Asanai Empire during the Mandate of Nations Crisis Conference.

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West of Halia

Grand Duchy of Ludendorf

Royalist Frontlines

14th Light Mech Division ‘Wachsam’

The LSS Mechs were a deadly predator on the frontlines. Or at least in urban frontlines – here, in the more flat and open fields of the towns in the western outskirts of Halia, the story was different.

Three LSS Mechs burned beside the road as attached mechanized infantry platoons advanced forward. Throughout the battlefield, dozens after dozens of ruined, burning slags of LSS Mechs littered the body-filled frontlines. It was as if the advance left a trail of its casualties behind, with entire LSS Squadrons wiped out on the battlefield.

“Goddess dammit!”

One of the Royalist Captains exclaimed as he took cover beside his remaining squad members behind a wreck of what was once an IFV.

This one was from the earlier assaults of the 15th Mechanized, it seemed, as the IFV bore that Division’s insignia on the side of its turret.

Beside him, one of the radio operators called wildly for artillery support.

“Fire-Control Unit Five, hostiles at grid Zeta-Bravo-Zero-Two…” The radio operator called out closely as he kept his head down, his voice almost shaking as he recited the coordinates to the radio.

The officer shook his head as he peeked at the frontlines ahead of him. Streaks of gunfire bursts kept his head close to the cover that the wreck provided, yet he tried his best to see what was happening ahead of them.

Indeed, it was awful. His battalion had been tasked to assault a critical area beside the town of Richt, which had been occupied by Putschist forces for weeks already. The town itself was initially a site of heavy combat between Royalist and Putschist forces before its full capture. Much like other towns and settlements west of Halia, Richt exchanged hands nearly a dozen times, utterly demolishing it in the process. It was supposed to resemble a small city from a distance, yet from what the captain sees, the entire damned town was practically rubble.

Ruined buildings, ruined homes, ruined landscape, it was as if hell had rained on the land – as he could see swarms of crater after crater that littered the approach to their target.

“Captain!”

“Lieutenant?”

The younger officer dropped beside him. It seemed that he had dashed toward him for what could only be described as a hellish run. Sweat ran through his face, as he breathed extremely shallow breaths, his voice tired as he reported to him.

“1st and 3rd Platoon is down. Our armored support has gone up ahead. We’re pinned here.”

“Is that so?”

“Yes, sir.”

Another artillery strike dropped just a few hundred meters ahead of them. The captain stared for a split second at one of his soldiers, who fired his rifle wildly in the direction of the Putschist from the cover of one of the ruined LSS Mechs.

“Are they not sending more here?”

“HQ said they are. The 18th Light Mech Regiment is moving close to support us. They want that hill to be ours within these few hours.”

And indeed, that was the importance of their target. Beside Richt was a slightly elevated position that ran beside a highway. The area held multiple residential noble estates, which were now turned into fortified mini fortresses that complemented the hastily constructed trench lines that the Putschists constructed near it.

Thus, the hill stronghold held fire control over the road that would be used by the main column of the 14th Light Mech Division, which was going to be the main spearhead of the Royalist advance toward the town of Lowarth. Destroying or capturing the position was thus one of the objectives of the 14th, as they could not pass through the road without taking heavy casualties from the Putschists’ elevated positions.

Which led to the current quagmire they had faced – the advance up to the hill was utterly devastating.

At the front, the initial LSS Mech Regiment that led the first advance had been staunchly repulsed. While they hadn’t sustained extreme casualties, the intensity of the Putschist resistance forced them to fall back.

Still, they had stayed near the base of the hill, firing their main guns at the enemy while the mechanized infantry battalions attached to the 14th advanced instead – which was where Captain Gulliver was assigned. Gamma Company, his own company, advanced slowly behind the Bravo and Theta Companies of the 182nd Mechanized Brigade. Their M8 IFVs accompanied them up the hill, but most of their M3 APCs were forced to be left behind, and his troops were dismounted before the assault.

Most of his men were also dismounted from their IFVs, although they had advanced closely behind them.

Even so, the casualties had been horrendous. Machine gun fire, anti-tank missiles, rockets, and precision artillery that the Putschist employed devastated squad after squad of his company. Even his eight IFVs had now been reduced to a mere five, one of which was behind them, tracks disabled earlier by a mine.

Still, its twenty-millimeter autocannons fired burst after burst at their target – a noble mansion that was occupied by the enemy. Which was also their main target.

“Lieutenant.”

“Yes, Captain?”

“Send the 2nd and 4th platoon on that tree line over there. And concentrate our four IFVs there. We’ll try to do a concentrated breakthrough and disable those positions.”

He pointed at a group of distant Putschist troops that were manning three firing positions – their machine gun fire keeping his 1st and 3rd Platoon suppressed. If he could suppress or force them off, he would be able to evacuate his platoons and regroup for another assault.

“Roger that Captain!”

Still, he needed more artillery support.

…

“Right now, our forces are advancing through the two pincers that we have planned. The Putschists are reacting as expected, and their heavy artillery and air assets are now fully engaged in stopping our advance.”

The maps of the frontline in front of Amelie had changed slightly to favor her. Her three spearhead divisions seemed to be breaking through the first trench lines erected by the Putschists, which was great – were it not for the casualty numbers displayed on the screens.

23 LSS Mechs Destroyed, 12 Disabled.

18 Löwe Tanks Destroyed, 32 Disabled.

45 M8 Infantry Fighting Vehicles destroyed, 9 Disabled.

13 M3 Armored Personnel Carriers destroyed, 5 Disabled.

345 Confirmed KIA, 846 Confirmed WIA, 68 MIA.

And it had only been a few hours.

It started at 6:00 AM. It’s just 11:44 AM. It seems like the initial breakthrough would truly be difficult. Goddess bless these men’s souls…

“I see. Have we at least broken through their first lines? I can see that they have taken quite some territories…”

Colonel Kleist, who had already at this point truly become her “Situation Officer” who kept her briefed on the current frontline events, replied with a slightly disappointed tone. Unfortunately for him, giving such a nice report to Her Majesty was impossible, as the situation had not fully gone to their side’s advantage. While they had made generous advances through the multiple Putschist trench lines, there were more layers to grind through just in the first defense line.

Layers where they would have to bleed further and further.

“Unfortunately, no, Your Majesty.”

“Then all those casualties…”

“They died serving the correct side, Your Majesty. What we shall do now is ensure that their sacrifices won't be in vain."

His quick, dismissive tone subtly stunned her. She had always wondered how men could be so callous, dismissive, and almost apathetic at the pain their gender had constantly suffered.

Sometimes, they almost were the same as the conservative aristocratic women that she knew. The same types would merely blink as if nothing happened in the face of the deaths and atrocities they had committed.

"Major…"

"Necessary sacrifices had always been a part of us men, Your Majesty. If you think these men are spending their lives in vain, please cease that. They are paying because they believe in you."

In my reforms. My promises. The dream I showed them…

A dream now on cinders. A dream I hadn't fulfilled.

Yet…

"Men today are fighting for many causes, Your Majesty. I fight because I believe you are the right person to change everything for the better. The Putschists fight because they think Heindhöff would be better. Yet all are the same - we are all fighting for a cause."

"But what if I failed? What if…all this blood…"

"Please don't fall into the same pessimism that we fell on."

When she looked up at him, his expression had changed from his clinical nonchalance to one of darkness. As if he had warned her of something grave - something that may have led to all of these.

What it was, she didn't know…but his words…

"What do you mean by that?"

"The darkness and evil of the Men's Rights Movement, a movement supposed to represent our centuries-old struggle to gain our rights…had long rooted from that."

"Pessimism?"

"A natural result of being beaten and battered again and again, a gateway for the worst ideologies. Ideologies that were molded in the minds of those who do not see the possibility of human good. Of change. The belief that women - would never grant us rights. Thus justifying extreme methods."

"That sounds oddly familiar."

"The ORP barely believes in the possibility of men having rights. The NRF refuses to believe we would even have a chance - unless we terrorize women. Then who do we men have left that could promise us change? That could rally us to a brighter future. When we do not even believe in our own side?"

"You mean…men do not believe in the cause?"

He looked away and sighed.

"How can you believe the Liberals, the Republicans, the ORP, and all the moderates when they have failed to bring change after decades? How can you believe the NRF, the extremists, and the militarists, if all of their solutions involved war and pain?"

"Then…why die for me?"

"...It's easy for many men to die for the NRF, who believe in total change. But so too for you - a woman, who seems serious for change."

"Is that…so? But the ORP? They always seemed to have massive support. I've always thought men are only loyal to me because I made a coalition with them."

He chuckled.

"The ORP are a bunch of crooks. Crooks that are the only thing that looks 'sane' in the many faces of the Male Rights Movement. Men rallied and still rallied behind them because they were the least shitty option. But now that you have appeared, a true reformist that shines a light in the darkness, however faint it is, we cling to you - even if we have to fight our fellow brothers."

And it still never made sense to her since this war began. She was a woman. A Queen. She thought they hated her. She thought they despised her.

Yet they rallied behind her. Defended her. Spilled blood for her. Even her loyalist officers always acted with initiative for her - and tainted their hands with the blood of their fellow men, just to support her.

Was this how desperate men had become? That they would die for her - a woman, a Queen, a matriarch, in the search for their rights, merely for their disillusionment with their cause?

"There is no side that would give us rights without making us pay blood. But at least, you, Your Majesty, are a reformer that gives hope to even the most pessimistic of minds. They are dying for you - the new face of egalitarianism. Not an angry, bitter, raving, hate-filled man. But an idealistic Queen."

…But still. I cannot sacrifice them like this. I refuse…I refuse. If I win this war, I need it to be a win for those who believe in me.

If deaths were to be inevitable, however, then the best she could do.

Was not to make the lives lost in vain.

I will win this war, and grant them their rights.