UCT Ch 7

A week had passed since the bombing of Campton. Marianne sat in the reception room, her face hardened. The bright, clear weather and the chirping of birds grated on her ears.

Last Monday at 4 p.m., the northeastern industrial city of Campton was attacked by Arque bombers. The factory producing bearings was completely burned down, and the nearby army base was utterly destroyed beyond recovery. But the most devastating damage was to the civilians. Although the bombing had primarily targeted the factory and military base, civilian casualties were also significant. Countless citizens lost their lives and their homes.

‘This is Arque’s threat.’

A demand to immediately withdraw the declaration of war and sign a truce. Arque was outwardly proclaiming that it had no intention of waging war against Bringerton and that it wished to establish a non-aggression pact. But that so-called non-aggression pact contained terms tantamount to surrender. It was nothing more than a well-packaged poison.

‘Bastard.’

Marianne silently cursed Arque’s Emperor, Dietrich.

Through the wide-open doors, a small-statured man entered. Marianne unconsciously furrowed her brows.

Following the bombing of Campton, Moibridge had taken full responsibility and resigned along with his cabinet. The new cabinet was now led by the newly appointed Prime Minister, Norman Ulrich.

“Your Majesty.”

“…How is the newly formed cabinet?”

“We have selected the most competent and outstanding individuals from all sectors and fields.”

Marianne cast a distrustful gaze at the Prime Minister. To be frank, she did not like him. He was cross-eyed and had poor vision; his face, narrow and shrewd-looking, failed to inspire confidence. Even his way of thinking was displeasing to her. The aristocracy and the royal court were abuzz with criticism, branding him a radical.

Prime Minister Ulrich, unsteady in his steps, stood before the Queen and removed his hat, offering his respects.

“Let’s get straight to the point, Your Majesty.”

“That would be best.”

‘At least he’s not one for formalities.’

Marianne inwardly scoffed.

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The Prime Minister and the Queen sat diagonally from each other—a relic of an old tradition dictating that commoners should not directly face the monarch.

Bringerton had long established a constitutional monarchy, reducing class discrimination to some extent. However, that did not mean that aristocratic privilege had disappeared entirely.

Compared to Arque, where nobility and inborn status were worshipped, Bringerton was relatively better. Yet, whether in politics or economics, the nobility still dominated the upper echelons.

Prime Minister Ulrich was the first commoner to hold the position in Bringerton’s history.

‘…Even so, for a commoner to become Prime Minister in such a time of crisis…’

Marianne could see right through the aristocrats’ scheme—they intended to make him the scapegoat. She could only sneer at their ploy.

The Prime Minister blinked slowly and spoke.

“According to intelligence reports, Arque is expected to gain substantial control over Juom soon. Their next target will be our country. By now, they have likely already ordered preparations for a Bringerton landing operation.”

Between Arque and Bringerton lay the ‘Blood Sea,’ famed for its deep crimson waters.

‘They intend to cross that sea and land on our shores.’

Marianne’s mouth went dry. She could easily picture it—hundreds of thousands of enemy troops gathering like a black tide, anchoring along Bringerton’s crimson coast.

Shaken, Marianne pressed the Prime Minister, who remained composed.

“Then what must we do? Prime Minister, as you can see, I am no expert in military matters.”

“…Before launching a landing operation, the enemy will first attempt to secure air superiority. Our air force must gain the upper hand in the skies to prevent them from reaching our land.”

“Can we stop them?” “…We will do our best.”

“‘Doing our best’ is meaningless.”

“Your Majesty.”

The Prime Minister blinked slowly, fixing his gaze on Marianne. Though his eyes were misaligned, his determination was unmistakable.

“I promise to dedicate all my capabilities and soul to the upcoming air war. This isn’t just talk; I pledge my life on it.”

“…”

“There will be multiple bombings in this capital soon. The palace of Your Majesty will be a target too.”

Now, the question was directed at Marianne. The Prime Minister was determined to fight to the end. What about the king? Was she willing to join the resistance? Was she prepared to pay the price? The Prime Minister was speaking as a representative of the people.

Marianne bit her lower lip and answered quietly.

“I won’t avoid it.”

She didn’t want to think of any other answer.

But, can I bear the sacrifices of the people here? If those worn out by suffering demand surrender, what should I do? Marianne didn’t know. She had lost many loved ones in the last war.

She had to watch the people she loved killing others they loved.

She was scared. The fear she felt was very tangible, close enough to touch.

“Please tell me what I should do.”

The Prime Minister nodded slowly.

“We desperately need the support of the Etherea Federation now.”

The Etherea Federation. A superpower located on the new continent, formed by an alliance of four nations.

If we could borrow their power, we could certainly turn the tide of this war. The problem was the Federation’s policy of ‘non-interference.’ The citizens of the Federation did not want to get involved in the affairs of the old continent.

“While the Bringerton Air Force holds off the enemy, please persuade the Federation, Your Majesty. Show them your iron will to fight the enemy to the end.”

Marianne nodded. She knew that was the only way for now.

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— Bringerton Eastern Plains, Lowland.

A 3-ton truck was racing across the paved road of the plains, carrying volunteers for the Auxiliary Air Force.

The faces of the volunteers, each dressed in long skirts and blouses, were filled with tension. Of course, among them were some leaning on others’ shoulders to sleep or eating sandwiches. Diana, sitting at the very end of the truck, looked out at the scenery along the road. The summer sky of Bringerton was clear and pure.

‘The air and wind are different here from Arke.’

Flying a plane would surely make the difference in climate clear.

‘I don’t know if I can really fly though.’

The Auxiliary Air Force. It was said to be a unit created by the Duchess of Coronius, one of Bringerton’s richest, with her own fortune.

If assigned to transport duties, she might get to fly a plane. That is, if the advertisement’s claims were true. Even that would be quite revolutionary. For someone like Diana to fly was unprecedented.

There were female air force members, but they were usually cadets from noble academies or those with substantial experience. The chances of a commoner like Diana, with no official flight record, piloting a fighter, even for transport duties, were slim.

‘But I want to do something. I should do my best with any task.’

She wanted to believe it wasn’t a wrong choice. She sought peace of mind by doing her best. Even if it was considered petty or cowardly, there was nothing she could do about it. Fortunately, her uncle and aunt supported her decision, however reluctantly. While asking if it wasn’t dangerous, they still respected Diana’s determination to volunteer.

‘…I was ready to run away if they kept opposing it.’

Diana recalled the moment of farewell with the two of them and gave a faint smile.

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“If that’s what you want, there’s nothing I can do about it.”

Two days after Diana had decided to join the Auxiliary Air Force, Uncle Ben responded like that. She expected a long persuasion, but his surprisingly quick consent caught her off guard.

However, his deeply bloodshot eyes showed how much he had agonized over his answer. Aunt Gilda’s face, with a patch on one cheek, was also heavy with concern. She spoke with a voice full of tears.

“Diana, I know this is late, but Ben and I have been very worried about you.”

“About me?”

Diana looked at them with slight confusion. No matter how she thought about it, there was no reason for them to worry about her. Diana had been healthy since she fainted at twelve and had never caused any trouble. Her childhood was uneventful. What was there to worry about? Uncle Ben’s heavy words hit her like a rock.

“You never talked about what you wanted or desired. You never even asked for birthday presents. At first, it was admirable, but at some point, I felt like we hadn’t provided a safe enough environment for you.”

Hearing this, Diana’s lips trembled slightly. She had always thought she lived brightly, but perhaps the shadow of her past life hadn’t completely vanished. And Uncle Ben, as her closest guardian, had managed to discern this darkness.

“But seeing your determination in your eyes now, honestly, it relieves me.”

“Uncle.”

“Go and come back safely. See the world, protect people. Our good Diana. Just promise this uncle that you won’t do anything too dangerous.”

“…”

When Diana didn’t respond, Uncle Ben pulled her into a tight hug. Aunt Gilda gently stroked her hair from behind.

Diana rested her forehead on her uncle’s shoulder. Being held in his strong, broad embrace, she felt like she might cry. Many words bubbled up to her throat, but none she could say to them. She could only swallow her sobs.

‘Uncle, I’m not good.’

‘I am, I am…’

Diana could only murmur one word while forcing her emotions down.

“…I’ll be back.”

She wanted to leave all the baggage of her past life on the battlefield and return truly light-hearted. And then, she would sincerely thank both of them