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Annette looked up at the soldier, her eyes wide. He had been there the entire time, watching over the prisoners.
Nicolo said angrily, slapping his hand away.
“What? All of a sudden.”
“In the morning... there’s a commotion...”
“Before that, quickly...”
The two argued for a while. Only after another soldier intervened and helped restrain Nicolo did Nicolo spit and leave the church.
The soldier looked at Annette with a slightly disturbed expression, then sighed briefly. The soldier who had belatedly stopped Nicolo also shook his head and returned to his seat.
Annette, who had been standing there in a daze, immediately came to her senses and grabbed him.
“The child─”
Annette's lips trembled. It had been too long since she'd learned Frances, and she was not used to speaking it.
“Just a child.”
She pointed to the sleeping child and then to the door. The soldier's expression became troubled, as if her intentions were being conveyed.
“I’m sorry, but I... can’t... Elliot... tell you...”
He waved his hand and explained at length. It seemed to imply that he had no authority. But Annette refused to give up and clung to him.
“Please. It’s difficult.”
"Sorry."
The soldier forcibly pulled Annette away. Annette staggered and collapsed, her face blank. Was there really, really no other way?
“Just give up.”
At that moment, a crackling voice came from beside her. Annette turned her head. It was the friendly sniper she had treated earlier.
He leaned against the wall with his face all puffed out and spoke slowly.
“Anyway... we’re all going to die. Those bastards have no intention of saving us.”
Annette had also vaguely guessed at this. But she couldn't bring herself to tell anyone, so she kept it a secret.
Before Annette could respond, the crowd began to stir.
“What...? They have no intention of saving us?”
“What does that mean? Are they going to kill us?”
“Then, the, then what should we do?”
“Be quiet over there!”
Soldier Frances shouted, but the people were already gripped by the fear of death.
The child woke up, rubbing his eyes at the commotion. His sleepy face stared blankly around.
“Everyone, we have to get out now!”
“If you move like that...!”
“What are you doing... sit down!”
A man jumped to his feet and began to run frantically toward the entrance. A Frances soldier, armed with a rifle, stopped him.
“Go back now!”
“Please let me out.”
“Go back and sit down!”
“I’m going to kill you all, damn it! Get out of the way...!”
The man shoved Private Frances around as if he were nothing. The commotion drew other soldiers in, one by one. A scuffle ensued.
Bang!
Gunshots echoed through the chapel.
For a moment, time seemed to have stopped. Not even the slightest breath could be heard.
The man's body, which had been standing still for a moment, sank down. Soon, he collapsed onto the cold floor.
A hissing sound came from somewhere. Blood flowed from beneath the fallen man's body. Annette hurriedly covered the child's eyes, preventing him from seeing this scene.
“This man... suddenly...”
“...Anyway... it doesn’t matter.”
The soldier who shot the man, Private Frances, scratched his head and left the building. The other soldiers, one by one, turned and returned to their positions.
Only an empty silence hung over the chapel.
The nurse who had accompanied Annette approached, trembling, and checked the man's pulse. She turned around and slowly shook her head.
Before dawn, the thing she was afraid of began to happen.
The Frances soldiers' previously regular movement path changed. Outside, military vehicles seemed to be moving more frequently than usual.
Those tasked with guarding the prisoners were also leaving the church building one by one. People watched them with a mixture of bewilderment and fear.
Finally, the two soldiers remaining in the chapel pointed their guns at the prisoners. They all crouched, gasping for breath.
But they didn't pull the trigger; instead retreating. Just before that, one of the soldiers' eyes met Annette's.
The soldier, who looked quite young, had a look of fear on his face. They took their last steps out of the building.
Thud.
The chapel door closed. There was a rattling noise outside for a moment, then complete silence.
"Uh...?"
“What, what is it?”
People were murmuring. But even after waiting for a long time, the Frances soldiers did not come back.
Someone cautiously rose from his seat and approached the door. He turned the handle and pulled. But there was only a rattling sound, and the door didn't open.
Rattling.
Rattling.
He pulled the door a few more times, but to no avail. After a moment of silence, a trembling voice emerged.
“Is this... locked...?”
“It’s locked?”
“Did they lock the door?”
“What, what does that mean?”
People sitting huddled together in a corner rose one by one. A few more tried to open the door, but all failed.
It was still quiet outside.
Annette's pupils fluttered as she sensed something strange. She scanned the entrance, the walls, and the ceiling in turn.
“There’s a strange smell...”
Annette slowly opened her mouth.
“It smells strange.”
Everyone turned to look at her. Annette couldn't bring herself to continue speaking, so she just moved her lips. The shape of her mouth spoke silently.
The smell of burning...
For a brief moment, deathly silence flowed.
The smell was getting stronger. Only then did the people realize it, and a shiver of shock filled the room.
Someone muttered in a daze.
“Oh my, this is crazy...”
The Frances soldiers were trying to burn this place down.
With the prisoners.
Annette abruptly rose from her seat. The child sitting next to the old man looked up at her with an anxious expression.
Annette ran to the door, pounding it furiously with both fists, shouting.
“Open this door!”
She cried out desperately to the Frances soldiers still outside.
"Open the door! Or at least let the child out! Can't you hear me? Just the child! Please! "
Boom!
“Elliot Sydow! Captain Sydow! Please open the door!”
Bang bang bang!
"This is what humans do! Open this door now!"
Bang bang bang bang bang!
“You all are crazy!”
Annette kept knocking on the door, but there was no answer. Boom. A reddened fist slammed the door one last time, then fell limply.
She sobbed, her head against the door.
“You all are crazy...”
The church door rattled repeatedly. Inside, the prisoners' cries and screams were pouring out.
The flames gradually consumed the building, starting from the top. The sound of burning echoed with the din of the battlefield.
“Is this... correct?”
Private Frances stumbled, leaned against a tree, and then slid down. He was the last young soldier to make eye contact with Annette.
“Is this right, is this right... I just can’t... There’s a child inside...”
The soldier shook his head in pain. His shoulders trembled as if they had been splashed with cold water.
“Even people who are not soldiers... no, even if they are soldiers...”
“Max, wake up.”
His superior blurted out. The young soldier looked up at his superior with tear-filled eyes.
"It can't be helped. Have you forgotten how many of your comrades died? Some of them must have been involved, and even if they weren't, there are too many who witnessed what we did. We don't have time to sort them all out."
“Ha, but...”
“Get up and get moving. We need to get moving quickly.”
The young soldier gasped for breath and let out a labored groan. Even closing his eyes, the afterimage wouldn't go away.
He had the illusion that the piano melody the woman had played earlier was mixed with the crackling sound of a burning flame.
That beautiful melody...
From beneath the soldier's bowed head, a suppressed sob leaked out. He roughly wiped away the tears, then stood up, his gun resting on the ground.
But soon the soldier collapsed again. He covered his face with one hand and groaned in pain.
A long wind blew from the far end of the city.
Elliot was smoking a cigar, watching the church building begin to be engulfed in flames. A soldier carrying luggage asked him.
“Captain, aren’t you going?”
“You go first. I’ll clean up and go last.”
“Oh, yes. I understand.”
Elliot inhaled the smoke until his cheeks hollowed, then exhaled. He repeated this several times, then narrowed his eyes slightly.
He muttered, throwing away his unsmoked cigar.
“...It doesn’t taste good.”
The next morning, reinforcements arrived in Huntingham via the Hutson River. The goal was to recapture the city.
The enemy was trapped between the front and rear by the Padanian forces resisting on the inner defensive line and reinforcements coming from the outskirts via the river.
One of Frances's strengths was its exceptional mobility. However, in a city where every building was practically a trench, this was not fully utilized.
Allied forces continued their hand-to-hand combat, exploiting the urban fabric and the rubble of collapsed buildings. They recaptured a third of the occupied territory in just two days.
The city was bombed, and gunfire continued throughout the day. To minimize civilian casualties, Padania ordered evacuations and rescues as soon as it was recaptured.
The recapture operation was progressing successfully. As the front line shifted again, the General Headquarters barracks were also relocated near the central front.
Meanwhile, news reached the commander-in-chief's barracks.
“...Not on the list?”
There was news of the whereabouts of Annette Rosenberg, who had been reported to have joined the evacuation procession from Huntingham Field Hospital.
Nicolo said angrily, slapping his hand away.
“What? All of a sudden.”
“In the morning... there’s a commotion...”
“Before that, quickly...”
The two argued for a while. Only after another soldier intervened and helped restrain Nicolo did Nicolo spit and leave the church.
The soldier looked at Annette with a slightly disturbed expression, then sighed briefly. The soldier who had belatedly stopped Nicolo also shook his head and returned to his seat.
Annette, who had been standing there in a daze, immediately came to her senses and grabbed him.
“The child─”
Annette's lips trembled. It had been too long since she'd learned Frances, and she was not used to speaking it.
“Just a child.”
She pointed to the sleeping child and then to the door. The soldier's expression became troubled, as if her intentions were being conveyed.
“I’m sorry, but I... can’t... Elliot... tell you...”
He waved his hand and explained at length. It seemed to imply that he had no authority. But Annette refused to give up and clung to him.
“Please. It’s difficult.”
"Sorry."
The soldier forcibly pulled Annette away. Annette staggered and collapsed, her face blank. Was there really, really no other way?
“Just give up.”
At that moment, a crackling voice came from beside her. Annette turned her head. It was the friendly sniper she had treated earlier.
He leaned against the wall with his face all puffed out and spoke slowly.
“Anyway... we’re all going to die. Those bastards have no intention of saving us.”
Annette had also vaguely guessed at this. But she couldn't bring herself to tell anyone, so she kept it a secret.
Before Annette could respond, the crowd began to stir.
“What...? They have no intention of saving us?”
“What does that mean? Are they going to kill us?”
“Then, the, then what should we do?”
“Be quiet over there!”
Soldier Frances shouted, but the people were already gripped by the fear of death.
The child woke up, rubbing his eyes at the commotion. His sleepy face stared blankly around.
“Everyone, we have to get out now!”
“If you move like that...!”
“What are you doing... sit down!”
A man jumped to his feet and began to run frantically toward the entrance. A Frances soldier, armed with a rifle, stopped him.
“Go back now!”
“Please let me out.”
“Go back and sit down!”
“I’m going to kill you all, damn it! Get out of the way...!”
The man shoved Private Frances around as if he were nothing. The commotion drew other soldiers in, one by one. A scuffle ensued.
Bang!
Gunshots echoed through the chapel.
For a moment, time seemed to have stopped. Not even the slightest breath could be heard.
The man's body, which had been standing still for a moment, sank down. Soon, he collapsed onto the cold floor.
A hissing sound came from somewhere. Blood flowed from beneath the fallen man's body. Annette hurriedly covered the child's eyes, preventing him from seeing this scene.
“This man... suddenly...”
“...Anyway... it doesn’t matter.”
The soldier who shot the man, Private Frances, scratched his head and left the building. The other soldiers, one by one, turned and returned to their positions.
Only an empty silence hung over the chapel.
The nurse who had accompanied Annette approached, trembling, and checked the man's pulse. She turned around and slowly shook her head.
***
Before dawn, the thing she was afraid of began to happen.
The Frances soldiers' previously regular movement path changed. Outside, military vehicles seemed to be moving more frequently than usual.
Those tasked with guarding the prisoners were also leaving the church building one by one. People watched them with a mixture of bewilderment and fear.
Finally, the two soldiers remaining in the chapel pointed their guns at the prisoners. They all crouched, gasping for breath.
But they didn't pull the trigger; instead retreating. Just before that, one of the soldiers' eyes met Annette's.
The soldier, who looked quite young, had a look of fear on his face. They took their last steps out of the building.
Thud.
The chapel door closed. There was a rattling noise outside for a moment, then complete silence.
"Uh...?"
“What, what is it?”
People were murmuring. But even after waiting for a long time, the Frances soldiers did not come back.
Someone cautiously rose from his seat and approached the door. He turned the handle and pulled. But there was only a rattling sound, and the door didn't open.
Rattling.
Rattling.
He pulled the door a few more times, but to no avail. After a moment of silence, a trembling voice emerged.
“Is this... locked...?”
“It’s locked?”
“Did they lock the door?”
“What, what does that mean?”
People sitting huddled together in a corner rose one by one. A few more tried to open the door, but all failed.
It was still quiet outside.
Annette's pupils fluttered as she sensed something strange. She scanned the entrance, the walls, and the ceiling in turn.
“There’s a strange smell...”
Annette slowly opened her mouth.
“It smells strange.”
Everyone turned to look at her. Annette couldn't bring herself to continue speaking, so she just moved her lips. The shape of her mouth spoke silently.
The smell of burning...
For a brief moment, deathly silence flowed.
The smell was getting stronger. Only then did the people realize it, and a shiver of shock filled the room.
Someone muttered in a daze.
“Oh my, this is crazy...”
The Frances soldiers were trying to burn this place down.
With the prisoners.
Annette abruptly rose from her seat. The child sitting next to the old man looked up at her with an anxious expression.
Annette ran to the door, pounding it furiously with both fists, shouting.
“Open this door!”
She cried out desperately to the Frances soldiers still outside.
"Open the door! Or at least let the child out! Can't you hear me? Just the child! Please! "
Boom!
“Elliot Sydow! Captain Sydow! Please open the door!”
Bang bang bang!
"This is what humans do! Open this door now!"
Bang bang bang bang bang!
“You all are crazy!”
Annette kept knocking on the door, but there was no answer. Boom. A reddened fist slammed the door one last time, then fell limply.
She sobbed, her head against the door.
“You all are crazy...”
***
The church door rattled repeatedly. Inside, the prisoners' cries and screams were pouring out.
The flames gradually consumed the building, starting from the top. The sound of burning echoed with the din of the battlefield.
“Is this... correct?”
Private Frances stumbled, leaned against a tree, and then slid down. He was the last young soldier to make eye contact with Annette.
“Is this right, is this right... I just can’t... There’s a child inside...”
The soldier shook his head in pain. His shoulders trembled as if they had been splashed with cold water.
“Even people who are not soldiers... no, even if they are soldiers...”
“Max, wake up.”
His superior blurted out. The young soldier looked up at his superior with tear-filled eyes.
"It can't be helped. Have you forgotten how many of your comrades died? Some of them must have been involved, and even if they weren't, there are too many who witnessed what we did. We don't have time to sort them all out."
“Ha, but...”
“Get up and get moving. We need to get moving quickly.”
The young soldier gasped for breath and let out a labored groan. Even closing his eyes, the afterimage wouldn't go away.
He had the illusion that the piano melody the woman had played earlier was mixed with the crackling sound of a burning flame.
That beautiful melody...
From beneath the soldier's bowed head, a suppressed sob leaked out. He roughly wiped away the tears, then stood up, his gun resting on the ground.
But soon the soldier collapsed again. He covered his face with one hand and groaned in pain.
A long wind blew from the far end of the city.
Elliot was smoking a cigar, watching the church building begin to be engulfed in flames. A soldier carrying luggage asked him.
“Captain, aren’t you going?”
“You go first. I’ll clean up and go last.”
“Oh, yes. I understand.”
Elliot inhaled the smoke until his cheeks hollowed, then exhaled. He repeated this several times, then narrowed his eyes slightly.
He muttered, throwing away his unsmoked cigar.
“...It doesn’t taste good.”
***
The next morning, reinforcements arrived in Huntingham via the Hutson River. The goal was to recapture the city.
The enemy was trapped between the front and rear by the Padanian forces resisting on the inner defensive line and reinforcements coming from the outskirts via the river.
One of Frances's strengths was its exceptional mobility. However, in a city where every building was practically a trench, this was not fully utilized.
Allied forces continued their hand-to-hand combat, exploiting the urban fabric and the rubble of collapsed buildings. They recaptured a third of the occupied territory in just two days.
The city was bombed, and gunfire continued throughout the day. To minimize civilian casualties, Padania ordered evacuations and rescues as soon as it was recaptured.
The recapture operation was progressing successfully. As the front line shifted again, the General Headquarters barracks were also relocated near the central front.
Meanwhile, news reached the commander-in-chief's barracks.
“...Not on the list?”
There was news of the whereabouts of Annette Rosenberg, who had been reported to have joined the evacuation procession from Huntingham Field Hospital.
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