RM Vol 3: For a World without Boundary – Chapter 20-3: Building their powerbases (Part 3)

RM Vol 3: For a World without Boundary – Chapter 20-3: Building their powerbases (Part 3)

"... And I am telling you that the war plan is fucking ludicrous! Even a five-year-old retard can come up with a better response than that!" The Ustian Prime Minister screamed into the phone, his frustration was clear for Dana Elvidge to hear. "We already lost Arash to the Belkans, and by not willing to reinforce the Ardennes, we're leaving the entirety of Northern Ustio wide open!"

Though Dana knocks on the door before stepping in, the Minister only offers a beckoning hand, still busy exchanging flak with the person on the line to care about much else. "Unfavorable terrains? Never favored large operations? Largely impenetrable? Are you daft!? We are not the only countries to have advancements in technology in the span of a few years! Who the fuck knows what sort of witchcraft the Belkans developed now, huh!?"

Shaking her head at the flushed Prime Minister, Dana can only smile wryly at that question. Even she, as an undercover agent, doesn't know just how far has Belkan developed in her years of absence.

"The Maginot Line will be impenetrable as long as special provisions were taken to destroy an invasion force as it emerged from the Ardennes by a pincer attack...?" The Prime Minister suddenly asked back in a subdued voice. It seems that the one on the line is trying to make a counterargument. "Just what the fuck had your mother breastfed you with you piece of numbskull?!"

And apparently, it failed miserably.

"If I don't receive a contingency plan, on my table, in three days, you can consider yourself relive of your duty, shithead!" The Minister then slammed the phone hard, hanging it up before taking a deep breath.

After ten seconds, he turns to Dana, his secretary. "Now with that out of the way, you have something to give me?" His tone is surprisingly mellow unlike before.

Dana nods before stepping forth and handing over a stack of letters with seals. "Everyone on the list has offered their response to your correspondence. I haven't checked the content of specific letters yet but otherwise, they're safe for your eyes only."

The Prime Minister smirks before deftly breaking the seal of one. "Spoken like a spy now. Your skill in shadowy matters is improving day by day." The Minister jested, making Dana roll her eyes. "I need to be, otherwise, it's my head that rolls on the floor. If I recall correctly, my post as a secretary isn't supposed to include any underhanded assignment?"

The Prime Minister responds. "What? Getting cold feet on the brink of greatness?"

Dana answers. "I would had it not been for the pay and insurance package accompanying the job."

The Prime Minister chuckles. "Good! Because we are one step closer to vision!" The Minister then put away the first letter, taking up another one. "Marks my words, Belka is on the rise and everything will crumble beneath its wake."

Seeing the cruel, meaningful smile on the Ustian Prime Minister's face, Dana can only shake her head. "You know, I've worked with you for years already and I still don't know just what the hell is driving your actions. Yet, I work my butt off any day every day for unknown reasons."

The Minster laughs aloud at that. "Would you still stick with me had you know, my friend?"

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"Ram that bastard!" Shouted an Ustian Reformist tank commander before he felt the tank jerk forth, hard. Then, the complete weight of a multi-ton Panzer III M comes crashing down on a Chariot-class Demon, crushing it beneath the mighty Belkan-made treads.

Not stopping there, the tank commander gives the gunner a target to engage. "Gunner, Chariot, 200 meters, traverse left!"

"Identified!" The gunner controlling the 57mm cannon of the tank responded. The man can see that whitish freak of nature barreling toward the walls of the town they're defending.

"Fire!"

Turning to look at his commander, the loader asks. "Of what exactly?"

"Of getting your tank flung away by something above your tonnage." The commander smirked.

"... So the rumor is true?"

Shrugging, the commander responds. "Pretty much. In the beginning, there were only three of us, and our tank was totaled in pretty much the same manner as now. Meaning, it was crashed by something and thrown into the air, rolling a few times here and there. Only back then, it was the plane that was carrying the current Reich Marshal of Belka that kicked us away, not a literal Demon boar or something along the line. But Heaven blessed us on both occasions, aside from taking a few bruises and some broken bones, all of us got out alive. The others are up and are examining our Panzer III wreck with us being the most injured of the bunch. Hence, us being here in the med station." The commander then gestures to his broken arm in a cast.

"... Damn, now that's one thing to tell your kids about." The loader commented before resting his head on the pillow while the commander laughs in agreement.

"Well, that's one positive thing to take out from that mess!"

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Elsewhere, in an extravagantly ornate room. A plump man, garbed in the most luxurious of robes and golden crosses, can be seen spitting out his spits as his words berate the high-ranking officers across his table. "Say it! Say it to the hand of Christ!" The man, easily identified as the Pope of Christianity due to his hard-to-not-notice attire, shouted.

And before the Sardegnian Generals can even fathom the idea of responding, Pope Mussolini of the Sardegnian Papacy has already waved his hands around like flail. "My hand is a rotor blade and your opinion means nothing! I want more units to be funneled into Spain! The heretics must be decimated! And the betrayers to God's Will must be destroyed! Now begone from my sight!"

Leaving behind naught but a short bow, the military men file out of the room, leaving Mussolini to huff a heavy, frustrated breath.

"Perhaps I can be of assistance." Said the voice from a darker corner of the room, unseen by any others prior to her speaking up. Mussolini, however, isn't surprised by the sudden intrusion. "Go on." The Pope said before sitting down heavily, pouring himself a large goblet of wine.

The hidden voice then says. "With the first batch of Crusaders making their stance clear, a new and growing faction has appeared in the Spanish lands. One that upholds the clause of neutrality very well, only participating in defensive maneuvers at most. Those mundane Generals won't be able to utilize or dislodge this faction, not if they want their fragile defense line to hold against the Spanish Coalition's counterattack."

"Suggestion?" Mussolini asked after taking a healthy gulp of wine and placing the goblet on the table.

"We wait. At least, until my next batch of Crusaders is ready. Only this time, they're perfectly servile to us. I've taken... precautions to prevent another happenstance of rebellious Saint."

"Good."

The voice then continues. "With the second batch ready, we will then send them to dismantle the third faction and retrieve Kallen Kaslana. As an S-rank Crusader, she still has her uses. With her being dealt with, the Crusaders will fall into line and the operation to conquer Spain will resume, back on its proper track."

"Then we do as your say, Lady Lyssa." The Pope said before suddenly collapsing on the table like a puppet with its strings cut. Ignoring the sleeping Pope, an ominous chuckle can be heard before fading out of existence.

"No plans survive first contact. But it doesn't mean I can't adapt to sudden changes. Kallen Kaslana, you will support me in my endeavor, by hook or by crook. Ufufufu..."