The First Tank Battle

May 23rd.

Inside the Royal Palace of the Polia Kingdom.

“How many tanks can we produce per month with the added expansion?”

“If the expansion goes through, about 250 units per month should be possible.”

At the chancellor’s words, Ian paused to do the math. Two hundred fifty per month—twelve months in a year meant roughly 3,000 units could be produced. It was feasible because they had built out production facilities in advance.

‘Good. If we can sell all of them, we can command a generous price.’

The empires would also need time to develop and build their own production lines. Given their vast populations and resources, they might start mass production quickly. And since they already had tractor factories, converting those would likely yield solid output.

‘The Doicheun Empire probably did just that, didn’t they?’

Their current ability to field several hundred tanks likely came from such measures. In any case, Ian felt events were taking a strange turn. The sudden shift on the battlefield was altering the course of the war.

‘Who would’ve thought Doicheun would concentrate on the Noma Empire?’

It was an unexpected change in theaters. They had even requested to purchase tanks from Polia, which Polia could only welcome. Naturally, unlike before, the Moria and Noma Empires vehemently opposed the sales—but as Ian had said earlier, Polia had to maintain neutrality.

‘We cannot take sides with any one faction.’

If they refused to sell solely to Doicheun, it would amount to joining the coalition in all but name. That would not only shake Polia’s neutrality but potentially erase it altogether.

There was no reason to wade into that muddy battlefield.

‘More importantly, we need to start learning know-how from people who’ve seen combat.’

Because Polia was not participating directly in the war, there were almost no veterans at home. No matter how fine the weapons, without experience they couldn’t be used to full effect. Ian intended to bring in veterans of the Great War.

‘Among the maimed will be officers too—and they’re likely treated poorly. If we pay to bring them here, we can readily obtain the hard-won know-how they’ve accumulated.’

Not just officers—if possible, he would bring ordinary soldiers as well. In most empires, wounded men sent to the rear were rarely managed or cared for. Unless they were wealthy, life would be harsh for those left disabled.

‘They will hold a deep grudge against the states that abandoned them. All the more reason to bring as many as we can.’

Even without fighting, if Polia could accumulate the experience of war, it would be a great help. This was no time to pinch pennies. With that thought, Ian focused as the chancellor spoke again.

“And we’ve finalized a tank-sale contract with the Doicheun Empire. For the first tranche, we will export fifty tanks. Much of this month’s output is already pre-booked, so shipments will begin next month.”

“The situation is taking an odd turn.”

“Heh, indeed. Our tanks being used by both sides to target each other—it’s curious.”

Marquis Norwen, the chancellor, thought it a sight he had never seen in his life, and respect for his king welled up anew. After all, the reason tanks had appeared so quickly was that the king had ordered their development even before the Great War.

‘Truly a ruler who built his base early and seized the throne in one stroke. It’s a blessing His Highness ascended to Polia’s throne.’

“Do Moria and Noma still oppose the sales?”

“They do. Their envoys hound me daily, insisting we must not sell.”

“Ahem. Please endure it a while longer.”

At first Ian had met them himself, but repeated meetings became irksome, so he delegated to the chancellor and kept his distance with polite excuses. He understood their position, but it was maddening to hear those who once called neutrality “only natural” now demand Polia refuse sales.

“By the way, how goes the technology trade with the Magnia Empire?”

“We obtained a number of satisfactory technologies, but the core items remain difficult to purchase.”

Flush with revenue, Ian had decided to spend where it mattered and buy technology—primarily from Magnia—and secured quite a lot. Acquiring such tech independently would have taken years, perhaps more than a decade; money was buying time.

“So triple-mounted naval gun tech is still off-limits for sharing?”

“Yes. Given its military sensitivity, it’s not easy.”

“Then what about turning to the Doicheun Empire? They’re already producing ships mounting triple turrets, aren’t they?”

“Ah—there is that option.”

“Given the wartime situation, it may be even easier to obtain. For them, weapons for immediate use matter more than money.”

If Polia waived payment for a sizable quantity of urgently needed materiel, perhaps they could obtain the triple turrets in exchange.

“I’ll pursue it quickly. I’ll raise it during the next tank-sale negotiations.”

“Do. And if possible, secure other technologies as well.”

“Understood,”

Marquis Norwen replied, and as they were about to continue, knock knock knock—a rap on the office door announced a visitor.

“Your Majesty, Viscount Rubingston requests an audience.”

“Viscount Rubingston?”

“Your Majesty, I shall take my leave. I have a backlog of work.”

“Very well. Show the viscount in.”

As the chancellor rose and departed, Viscount Rubingston entered. He bowed to Ian, who gestured to the sofa opposite; the viscount approached and sat.

“Well then, what is it?”

“Your Majesty, we have detected suspicious activity within the realm.”

“Suspicious? Imperial agents?”

The empires perpetually dispatched intelligence officers into Polia; nothing new there. But Rubingston shook his head gravely.

“It seems different from imperial intelligence services. In fact, one of our own agents went missing after attempting to make contact.”

“Is that true? They dare lay hands on our people on our soil? Who are they!”

Ian clenched his fist, eyes flashing at the affront. Startled, Viscount Rubingston answered carefully.

“We do not yet know their aims or identity. But they clearly infiltrated our kingdom and are searching for something. They were so covert we remained unaware—only by chance did we detect traces, after which we sent an agent…”

“You don’t even know who they are.”

“What are your orders?”

“Find the missing agent and rescue them. And retaliate. Whoever they are, if they come into our kingdom and touch us, they must learn exactly what that means.”

“Understood. However, the building we identified at the time of the disappearance is now empty. They vanished without a trace.”

“Professionals.”

“Yes, they appear to be a well-trained organization with real backing.”

For such activity to appear even inside Polia suggested influence. But Ian would not allow such things to persist in his realm.

“If they’ve reached into the administration, some officials must have taken bribes. Start by finding those vermin.”

Though he had rooted out corruption after taking the throne, it seemed some officials had resumed graft as time passed. Despite the stern examples set, forgetfulness—or greed—had led them back to bribery.

“We’ll have to purge them again.”

Ian’s words signaled another sweeping anti-corruption campaign. Viscount Rubingston agreed; reports had begun to reach him of officials quietly taking money to push through illicit administrative approvals.

“I’ll conduct a thorough sweep and bring you a full report.”

“See to it.”

With that, Rubingston broadened his use of the secret police, the Mauter, to locate the missing operative. They were already searching, but the king’s order put the matter first, and more agents moved at once.

A safe house somewhere in Pullea, capital of the Polia Kingdom.

“Has the bastard still not talked?”

“No, even under torture he won’t speak. We broke his fingers, tore out his nails, and rubbed in salt—only groans.”

“Since when were these Mauter dogs so tight-lipped?”

“Maybe the one we nabbed is unusually tough?”

“Mm, perhaps. If nothing else works, use drugs—or mental magic—to extract the information.”

“Understood.”

Physical torture had failed, so they would resort to mind-clouding drugs or mental magic to pry out answers. With measures like that, he thought, no one could hold out. It wasn’t as if royal agents underwent elite training to build resistance to drugs and mind-magic—or so he believed.

When one man left, the navy-haired middle-aged leader spoke to the one remaining.

“They’re looking for us now, yes?”

“Yes. The number of searchers in the area has increased beyond previous levels. They’re hunting us with their eyes on fire.”

“Hm. Is the one we caught an important figure?”

He spoke as if it made no sense, and the other tilted his head, equally puzzled.

“He doesn’t seem it—but he could be hiding his status, so we must make him talk. In any case, we should stop sending observers. We might leave a trail.”

“Agreed. By the way, hasn’t the Polia Kingdom changed too much?”

“It has. It wasn’t like this before.”

What they meant was that their room to maneuver inside Polia had narrowed. Even paying bribes had become difficult this time; most officials simply wouldn’t take them.

“That young king is the cause, no doubt. Pretty impressive for a green pup.”

“Hence his seizure of the throne. Frankly, I still don’t understand how King Ian secretly gathered men like Count Dimentis and so many others to his side and took the crown by force. I still can’t see how it was possible.”

The navy-haired leader nodded in agreement.

“I wonder the same. There were no open clashes, and no visible patron behind it—how could such alliances form? It’s baffling.”

“I suspect King Ian has a hidden backer.”

“Surely. That’s why he took it.”

“Yes—that thing must be hidden somewhere in this country.”

“Judging by the circumstances, it wasn’t the Magnia Empire that took it—it had to be the Polia Kingdom.”

They had led fleets to the Marin Archipelago, and considering the island where goblins had appeared, the odds were high that Polia had seized the “object” they sought. Hence their presence here.

“Most likely it’s hidden in the royal palace, yes?”

“Could be. Most treasures are said to be kept in the palace’s treasure vault.”

“Infiltrating that will be no small task.”

Penetrating the palace, guarded ironclad by the royal guards, was never easy anywhere—but Polia’s royal citadel was notorious. Far more guards protected it now than in the past.

Even so, they had no choice. They had to obtain “it.” By any means necessary—even extreme ones.

“First, use the black market to buy a palace map. There must be a gap somewhere.”

“I’ll see it done.”

On the black market, most things could be procured; there was a good chance old palace maps existed. Such items would be ruinously expensive, but their organization had no trouble spending that kind of money.

The next day.

“What? Neither drugs nor mental magic work?”

The navy-haired leader wore disbelief. They had dosed the Mauter agent and assaulted him with mind-magic, yet he not only refused to speak—he displayed strong resistance.

“Is he really that important? Or are the Mauter who trained him really that formidable?”

The sophistication of the counter-resistance only deepened his suspicions. Perhaps this country truly had a hidden patron even they did not know about.