Very Wrong Reincarnation: Isekai with Game Nation

Vol. 2 Chapter 19

April 25, Federation Era, ECC 725
33rd Panzer Division HQ

At the occupied Alhambra Kingdom's field, just south of the devastated Rattua Kingdom. Over a hundred tanks, supply trucks, and rows of tents stretched across the open expanse, now transformed into a battlefield and staging ground for Cignus’s next major offensive. This was the frontline for the attack on Aloa Kingdom, one of the last untouched countries in the region. Though "untouched" was a generous term—repeated airstrikes had left Kashim's territories in shambles, and their forces battered and scattered.

General Olbrant, commander of the panzer division, sat under the shade of a command tent, scowling at the latest reports. He studied the maps spread before him, his expression darkening as he heard about Kashim’s latest move. “What are these idiots doing?” he muttered.

The reports were almost laughable. Kashim had launched a desperate offensive, attempting to push back the advancing Cignus forces. Their attack was short-lived, crushed within hours after getting spotted by recon planes. The federal airforce, with a 300-strong strike force, had bombed the Kashim counteroffensive forces mercilessly for two days straight, obliterating any semblance of organization. With Cignus firmly holding air supremacy and Kashim lacking the ability to even mount an effective anti-air defense, the so-called offensive had devolved into another massacre.

Thirteen countries had already fallen under Cignus occupation. In just 24 days, the campaign had claimed over 2 million lives, with millions more missing or displaced. The sheer scale of destruction was staggering, as Cignus advanced across an area the size of modern-day Germany, over 300,000 square kilometers. Yet, Olbrant was keenly aware of the challenges that lay ahead.

“Our greatest problem isn’t resistance,” he said aloud, addressing his adjutant. “It’s logistics. We're burning through ammunition and fuel faster than we can resupply. The deeper we go, the far stretched we become away from logistics.”

The adjutant nodded grimly. “And there’s the matter of survivors. We’ve been too fast. The federal army, guards, and conscripts of border guards are supposed to sweep and clear behind us, but they’re lagging. Entire settlements are only left half-destroyed, allowing survivors to scatter and regroup.”

Airstrikes helped mitigate this, but even the airforce was feeling the strain. With only 800 aircraft available to cover the vast frontlines.

Then came the newest piece of intelligence, delivered with a photograph from a recon plane. “Surprisingly,” the adjutant said, a wry smile on his face, “Kashim has deployed tanks.”

Olbrant picked up the photo and examined it. The grainy image showed a clunky, outdated tank with long tracks, a stubby cannon protruding from its hull, and sponson guns jutting awkwardly from the sides. The design resembled a relic from a bygone era, like a Mark V from the Great War. He raised an eyebrow.

“This... this is idiocy,” he said, tossing the photograph onto the table. “Is this meant to be morale booster? Or are they truly that desperate? Declaring the location of their armored force with massive troop concentration while lacking anti-air capabilities is beyond stupidity. Do they forget that we’ve had slowpoke bombers flying unescorted in their skies for weeks?”

The adjutant chuckled. “It’s still a blessing, isn’t it, General? At least they’ve got enough fight left in them to keep trying instead of just running away.”

Olbrant gave a dry laugh. It was true. Kashim’s forces—and their allies from neighboring states—had become a running joke among Cignus’s ranks. Their resistance was token at best, and their attempts at fighting back only provided amusement. In three weeks of relentless campaigning, Kashim and its allies had managed to inflict just 700 fatalities on Cignus forces, half of those being poorly armed conscripts. Fewer than 5,000 Cignus troops had been wounded.