The dawn brought with it a new lineup of tanks in Carolus Rex. With the arrival of German reinforcements, the squadron commanders left their previous vehicles behind to take control of their new war machines.
Freya took the Tiger H1, a symbol of power and resilience.
Astrid kept the Panther A, a mix of speed and firepower.
Gudrun took command of a Panzer IV H, a versatile and reliable tank.
And I... now had the King Tiger (Tiger II P) in my hands, the colossus of the battlefield.
The old tanks were reassigned to new crews within the academy. After all, each unit needed to keep growing and refining their skills.
I leaned against the side of the King Tiger, watching the sun reflect off the worn paint of the armored beast. Though these tanks were powerful, they still needed work—repairs, adjustments, and of course, the Carolus Rex insignia on their camouflage.
It was then that I remembered Maho Nishizumi's letter.
Reaching into my jacket pocket, I pulled out the envelope bearing the Kuromorimine seal. I carefully opened it and unfolded the letter inside.
"Erik,
I hope these tanks prove useful to Carolus Rex. Originally, they weren't part of our standard lineup, but the crews that used them recently graduated, and the academy decided to retire them to make room for newer models. I figured it was a better idea to send them to you rather than let them collect dust in a warehouse."
"I'll be watching. Don't disappoint me."
"By the way... I can't wait to repeat what happened that night."
My eyes stopped at the last line for a moment.
Erik: Did Maho... really write this? —I murmured to myself.
I couldn't picture her expression while doing so. Her serious and disciplined face didn't match a phrase like that. Despite what we shared that night, Maho Nishizumi had always been the image of a cold and calculating commander.
A sigh escaped my lips as I tucked the letter away again.
Freya and Astrid approached, noticing my pensive expression.
Freya: Something interesting?
Astrid: Tsk. Don't tell me it's another love confession.
Erik: Nothing like that. —I said with a half-smile. Just an explanation of why we received these tanks.
Freya: And?
Erik: Their previous owners graduated, so they decided to replace them with new models and sent these to us instead of store them.
Astrid: Heh, good for us then.
Freya: Yeah. But before we start making plans with them...
Erik: Yes, I know. First, we need to repair them and adapt them to our style.
Both nodded, but Astrid's mischievous look told me she had something else in mind.
Astrid: After that, how about a little duel to see who handles their new tank the best?
Erik: Tsk. You're still on that?
Astrid: Of course. —She said with a confident smile. If you're going to pilot the King Tiger, you better prove you're worthy of it.
Freya: Oh, that sounds fun.
Erik: You won't stand a chance…
Freya and Astrid exchanged knowing smirks. They knew that, duel or not, our competition never truly ended.
And that, deep down, was what made Carolus Rex strong.
Erik: I can say I like how they compete in a healthy way, though their fights remind me of something that happened in BC Freedom…
I glanced at Astrid and Freya, who kept exchanging challenging looks with smug smiles. It was a constant competition, but they never crossed the line into hostility… well, not too much.
Erik: Is this something Marie experienced?
Astrid: Marie?
Freya: Hmph. Maybe, though I doubt she had our style. —She recalled encountering a commander like that in the tournament—
I didn't respond. After all, Marie's leadership was different—more focused on subtle manipulation rather than direct rivalry. Here, in Carolus Rex, competition was a fire that fueled growth.
With the new tanks in position, all crews were assigned to their respective armored vehicles. The King Tiger, being an enormous and demanding machine, required two new crew members in addition to Yrsa (gunner) and Ingrid (driver).
Sigrún (Loader) – A short-haired, athletic-built girl. She has a quiet but determined attitude, focusing solely on her task without distractions.
Edda (Radio Operator) – A sharp-eyed redhead, always alert. Her specialty is efficient and quick communication, ensuring that orders are transmitted without delay.
Erik: These tanks aren't just bigger and heavier —I said, leaning against the King Tiger— They completely change how we play.
Gudrun nodded, crossing her arms.
Gudrun: The Panzer IV H is more agile, but it still has decent armor, and these extra armor plates give it a nice look and distinguish it from other Panzers.
Astrid slapped the side of the Panther A.
Astrid: This one's fast and hits hard, but it's still not a heavy tank.
Erik: I think you underestimate its gun and sloped armor…
Freya smirked with confidence.
Freya: The Tiger H1 is already a monster on its own. I don't even want to imagine what you'll do with the King Tiger.
Everyone's eyes were on me. I shrugged.
Erik: I still need to fully understand it. If we face medium tanks, I can keep my distance. But against something like an IS-2, that's another story.
Freya: Well, that's where we come in.
A general nod passed through the group. For the first time, we felt like a complete team.
The Tiger H1, Panther A, Panzer IV H, and King Tiger roamed the training grounds for hours, occasionally firing at steel silhouettes set up as targets.
Engines roared, treads crushed the dirt, and little by little, each of us began to grasp the capabilities of our new weapons.
As the sun dipped below the horizon, we decided to call it a day. The tanks were returned to the storage area, which had recently been expanded to accommodate our new acquisitions—though it would soon need another expansion unless we sold some Strv m/38s.
While the others handled closing the gates and cleaning up, I lingered for a moment in front of the King Tiger, placing a hand on its cold armor.
There was something unsettling about this…
Erik: I died without ever unlocking it in War Thunder…
That damn game. Everything I knew about the King Tiger came from surface-level information and fighting against it, but I had never piloted it myself. I had no idea about its exact specifications, its weak points, or its true capabilities.
I remembered that its sides were its biggest weakness, like any other tank, but I wasn't sure if I should angle it like the Tiger H1.
Erik: Tsk… I'll have to work hard on this.
I took a deep breath. I wasn't going to let my lack of prior experience hold me back. This tank was mine now, and I would make it a vital part of Carolus Rex at all costs.
However, another thought crossed my mind.
The IS-2…
One of my favorites in War Thunder, a beast that combined armor and firepower. Pravda had several in their arsenal… if I could get at least one, Carolus Rex's combat capability would increase dramatically.
And if I was going to think big…
Why limit myself to the tanks in the series?
After all, Kuromorimine had a Maus, a tank that only made it to the prototype stage with two units built. If they managed to obtain it, what was stopping me from acquiring tanks that only remained on paper?
Erik: Could I get the second Maus if I ask Maho? Even if it's just the blueprints…
The idea of getting an IS-3 also crossed my mind. Technically, it was a 1945 design. It wasn't certain if it had seen combat in World War II, but that didn't matter much. If it wasn't allowed in official Sensha-dō tournaments, the IS-2 would suffice.
Either way, the goal was clear: Carolus Rex couldn't rely solely on light tanks. I had to do whatever was necessary to build a force capable of matching any opponent. But for now… I needed to rest, so I headed straight to the mansion.
I stopped thinking about it as I arrived at the mansion. Despite its size, it had no servants. More than a family home, it served as a dormitory and meeting hall for the academy.
The twilight filtered through the windows, casting long shadows across the wooden floor. The dim light illuminated the couch where Astrid and Freya slept peacefully. Gudrun, as always, was focused on her handheld console, her face glowing from the screen's light.
Without making a sound, I headed to my room. I softly closed the door and let myself fall onto the bed.
But as I stared at the ceiling…
A memory surfaced.
My death.
For an instant, I relived the moment my heart failed. A sharp pain shot through my chest, my breathing turned erratic, the strength drained from my limbs. I wanted to get up, but my body wouldn't respond. Everything went dark.
That was when I started thinking about my past life again.
About how, due to my mother's demands, I had reached a breaking point.
About how I had become intolerant of people, unable to stand incompetence or mediocrity.
My depression took control. And yes, I admit that it was stupid to let myself be defeated by it, that I should have been stronger and gotten back up. I was just starting my treatment with antidepressants and other medication prescribed by my psychiatrist. I was already beginning to fix my life and correct my mistakes… but death came before I could truly become a normal person again.
Erik: Now that I think about it, it's sad…
My mother had gone through a necessary divorce because of the abuse she suffered from my father, so I never knew him. That's why, when I arrived in this world, I was confused by the way my new mother treated me—and by the fact that I even had a father.
Was my life miserable? I wouldn't say that. I wasn't born into poverty, and I wasn't abused that badly. I guess I don't even know where to place myself.
My mother would call me useless, a mistake. And when she got angry, she would hit me with a stick or pull my hair. My grandmother tried to intervene, but my mother would beat her too, which filled me with sadness. The sound of the stick cracking against my skin still echoed in my mind. It wasn't the pain that affected me the most—it was the coldness and hatred in her eyes.
Eventually, since my mother was like that, I spent more time with my grandmother. But before long, she passed away, and I was left alone with my mother. Every day, I was insulted whenever I didn't meet her expectations. Even when I got high grades, if they weren't perfect, the stick would come down on me. Until finally, I reached my breaking point—I took my savings and stole some of my grandmother's jewelry to escape.
I tried to get a job, but my intolerance and fear of people made it impossible. I ended up becoming a NEET.
Years passed until I snapped out of it and told myself I was becoming exactly what I didn't want to be—an useless failure. So I mustered all my courage, went outside, and sought help from a psychologist, who then referred me to a psychiatrist. I started taking my medication, got a stable job, and was fixing my life… but then, due to an outburst of anger and too many energy drinks, I threw all that effort away.
I lay in bed and stared at the ceiling. I had gained so much… but why did I still feel this emptiness?
Erik: I had already decided to change. I was trying my best. So why did I die just when I was fixing my life?
A lump formed in my throat. I shouldn't dwell on it. I shouldn't let it drag me down again. But I couldn't help it.
Tears started to fall, and I drifted off to sleep in that devastated state of mind.