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Chapter Text

Sensha-dō.

Also called Panzerfahren. Tankery. A unique sport that combines tradition, dexterity, and the power of steel, in the past, Sensha-dō was only practiced by elite girls' schools—a discipline upheld as an art of elegance in armored combat, World War-era tanks were used not for warfare, but as symbols of honor and perseverance.

But times have changed.

In recent decades, enthusiasm for Sensha-dō has increased drastically. Tournaments have grown larger, tank reconstruction technology has advanced, and the public has begun to demand openness. Public pressure and the desire to embrace the spirit of sportsmanship finally forced the World Sensha-dō Federation to open a new gate: the men's division.

Now, Sensha-dō no longer belongs only to girls in graceful uniforms.

Now, the roar of Maybach engines and 75mm guns also echoes from the training grounds of young men.

In a world long accustomed to seeing polite girls command Panther and Sherman tanks with gentle smiles, a new generation has arrived—stubborn, spirited, and hungry for recognition. For them, Sensha-dō is not just a sport, but a way of life.

And among the teenage boys who have just stepped onto this field of steel stands an ordinary youth from a nearly unknown school…

But he—and his tank crew—will write a new chapter in the history of Sensha-dō.

Illyzyan Elles

A slender young man with short black hair and dark eyes that seemed to absorb the light around him. His left eye was covered by a eyepatch, while his right eye reflected a sharpness uncommon for someone his age. Beneath that gaze, faint dark circles could be seen—not from illness, but from long nights more often spent reading books than sleeping.

He one of the few students who entered Teutonic Boys’ Academy through a scholarship route—a prestigious old school better known for its strict doctrine, Germanic discipline, and long history in the military education of boys.

This year, Illyzyan entered his first year of junior high. New. Strange. Yet, something about him caught the attention of the seniors and coaches earlier than it should have. Perhaps it was his calm demeanor. Or maybe it was his sense of humor, which appeared at the wrong moments but still managed to make a tank crew laugh even in tense situations. It could also be the way he spoke about tank tactics with such fluency, as if he had experienced them himself.

But one thing was certain:

Illyzyan Elles was not just a new kid. He was an anomaly.

And that anomaly would soon sit in the cramped compartment of an old steel panzer—heading into his first battle that would determine whether the name Elles would be remembered… or forgotten forever.

Chapter Text

Thin smoke still curled from the muzzle of the short 7.5cm KwK 37 as Illyzyan took a deep breath, his face shadowed in the dark compartment of the StuG III Ausf. D. His hands still trembled from the shock of the previous explosion, while beside him, their commander’s body lay unconscious, his helmet slipping to cover part of his face.

Outside, the dense pine forest served as the last refuge for the Teutonic Boys’ Sensha-dō Team. Only three panzer remained—and they were already indirectly surrounded.

Outside, the dense pine forest served as the last refuge for the Teutonic Boys’ Sensha-dō Team. Only three panzer remained—and they were already indirectly surrounded.

"Eight... and just the three of us." Illyzyan gritted his teeth. "Not funny at all."

Through the periscope, he observed the enemy formation’s movements: a heavy KV-1 at the center, T-34-85s spreading to the left and right, and two SU-100s sneaking in from behind. They were slow, but relentless—advancing like a steel tsunami.

Illyzyan pressed the internal intercom button, a faint voice responding in his headset.

Illyzyan: "StuG III to Oberkommandant, this is Elles. Commander is unconscious. Holding position, light forest cover. Requesting permission to take command for this vehicle. Over."

A few seconds of silence. Then a calm, deep voice came through the headset—Oberkommandant Felix, a second-year senior from the junior high school, now leading from the Panzer IV Ausf. J.

Felix (intercom): "Permission granted. Don’t act recklessly, Elles. Panzer III carries our flag. We can’t afford to lose here."

Pause

Felix (intercom): "What’s your plan?"

Illyzyan turned to the driver and loader inside the StuG, their faces still tense. He took another deep breath, then pressed the intercom connection button.

Illyzyan: "We’ll hunt. One against eight. We can’t run, but they can be blinded. I need the Panzer IV to guard the right side of the Panzer III. We’ll make the KV-1 advance alone, then cut off their formation from the flanks. I’ll draw their attention with smoke shells. If I fail—consider it bait."

A brief pause, a flat tone, then with almost a lighthearted note:

Illyzyan: "You always call me stupid. It’s time I prove I’m reckless too."

Felix: "Tch... Don’t die, Elles. Orders received. Hope the old StuG III Ausf. D can speak loud today."

Illyzyan grinned. "Loader, prepare AP (armor-piercing). We’re sending a greeting to that KV-1."

From behind the forest foliage, the short barrel of the StuG III Ausf. D slowly aimed at the gap between two tree trunks. The diesel engine hummed low. The enemy was getting closer—700 meters… 600…

Illyzyan in his mind: "They have armor. We have tactics. Let’s dance, Rodina Boys' Academy."

Inside the cramped and sweltering space, the tension was almost palpable. The scent of oil, hot metal, and sweat mixed into one.

Krutz, the loader, held the AP shell in both hands. His eyes were fixed sharply on Illyzyan, who now stood at the commander’s position, one hand gripping the radio headset.

Krutz: "Elles... I know you're the best gunner in our class, but being a commander is a whole different thing. Are you sure this plan isn’t just slow suicide?"

Illyzyan didn’t answer right away. He simply stared out through the periscope—watching as the enemy KV-1 drew closer, its silhouette like a steel monster.

Satō, the driver, leaned back against his seat and stared at the ceiling of the tank, then spoke in a low but sharp voice.

Satō: "This is just a sport, man. Just an interschool match. Teutonic and Rodina may be rivals for decade, but this isn’t a real war. Why are you acting like… like you’re dead set on winning no matter what?"

Illyzyan remained silent for a few seconds. Then he exhaled, lowered his head briefly, and replied in a flat tone—yet sharp, like a round already chambered and locked.

Illyzyan: "I have my own reasons to take this seriously. You don’t need to know everything… just trust me with this StuG. We’re not the fastest tank. We’re not the strongest. But we can be the sneakiest."

He then looked at them one by one, his voice calmer as he continued.

Illyzyan: "If you want to back out, I won’t blame you. But if you’re in… make sure we give them a reason to remember Teutonic today."

Krutz and Satō exchanged glances. A moment of silence. Then Krutz raised the shell and knocked twice—hard—on the steel wall of the tank, a signal.

Krutz: "Heh… damn it. Alright then, Captain Reckless. AP loaded in the chamber. Just point us in the right direction—and make sure you stay awake ‘til we’re done."

Satō: "If I get blown up, I’m haunting you in the dorm. But fine. Life’s too short to fight half-hearted."

Illyzyan gave a faint smile, then returned to the headset, pressing the comm button to the Panzer IV.

Illyzyan (radio): "Oberkommandant, StuG III ready to move. We’ll begin the feint in 30 seconds. Prepare cover for the Panzer III."

A brief pause.

Illyzyan: "We will be the shadow behind the trees."

From the outside, the short barrel of the StuG slowly turned to the right. Target: the gap between the KV-1 and the left flank of the T-34s. Distance: 600 meters and closing.

Illyzyan (to the crew): "Satō, battle position. Krutz, ready to load another round. Remember—one shot is all we need to make history… or end up as next week’s training horror story."

The StuG’s engine growled lowly, and the old beast began to roll out from the shadows of the trees—in silence, in courage, in the mad plan of a one-eyed boy forcing the world to see him.

In the Spectator Stands.

The sharp silhouette of a woman in her late thirties appeared graceful and composed in the front row of the spectator stands. Her black hair flowed neatly back like a river of ink, her face devoid of excess expression. She sat upright, both hands folded over a dark formal skirt. In front of her, a massive screen broadcast the training match between Teutonic Boys’ Academy and Rodina Boys’ Academy.

Shiho Nishizumi.

That name alone was enough to make many school principals, academy directors, and educational policymakers stand at attention when mentioned. The head of the Nishizumi Clan, bearer of the orthodox Sensha-dō legacy, and holder of a vast network of influence in the world of this sport.

To Shiho's right sat her eldest daughter, Maho Nishizumi, calmly observing the Teutonic tanks’ maneuvers on the screen with a serious gaze. On her left, the youngest, Miho Nishizumi—still in sixth grade—was more preoccupied with adjusting the bandage on her Bokko Bear doll than paying attention to the match.

Shiho (without shifting her gaze): "Old… heavy… too much reliance on outdated machines. Teutonic won’t last another decade if they keep this up."

The cold voice came out emotionlessly, as if she were stating a scientific fact. Maho, who was around the same age as Illyzyan, turned slightly but said nothing. She was already used to her mother's harsh assessments.

Maho: "But the boy leading that StuG… he’s not from the upper class."

Shiho’s brow furrowed slightly. She focused her attention on one corner of the screen—an infrared camera feed showing the StuG III Ausf. D creeping slowly through bushes and tree cover. The image was blurry, but clear enough to see that the vehicle was now operating outside the formation.

Shiho: "Illyzyan Elles."

The name was spoken more as a confirmation to herself than a question.

She already knew that name.

She had already received the report: full scholarship, suspicious psychological test results, an unusual level of involvement in the school’s military tactics club, strong academic scores. Illyzyan wasn’t just any name. In fact, it was all too familiar—especially in relation to a certain personal intelligence report she had received a week ago.

Behind the scenes, Shiho hadn’t come to this match merely as a guest of honor. She had come to evaluate. Teutonic, an old school steeped in tradition, would become part of the Nishizumi family—if it proved worthy. If not, she would have no hesitation in letting it die a natural death.

Yet something in the way that old tank moved—slowly… deliberately…—made Shiho’s eyes narrow slightly.

Shiho: "He's interesting."

Maho (softly): "Will you still buy his school, Mother?"

Shiho:"If that boy survives... maybe I’ll offer something more than just an acquisition."

Miho giggled as her Bokko Bear fell to the floor, unaware of how pivotal this moment was for the future of an academy, a clan, and a boy who was now betting his life against eight tanks ahead of him.

Battlefield – Foot of the Mountain.

Thin steam wafted from the engine vents as the StuG III Ausf. D slowly emerged from the shadow of the trees, cutting through narrow gaps between dark tree trunks and moss-covered ground. The daylight was muted by clouds, leaving behind a gray atmosphere that made everything feel heavier—and more real.

In the distance, the silhouette of a KV-1 led the enemy formation, like a moving fortress, followed by the T-34-85s and SU-100s scattered in a tough, confident formation. Eight Soviet tanks, a complete unit. An enemy that should have been impossible to face with just three old vehicles from Teutonic Boys' Academy.

Yet, from within the trembling steel belly of the StuG, came a voice that was unwavering.

Illyzyan (calm yet firm): "StuG III… Krutz, Satō… Let’s go."

He took a deep breath, holding back the surge of adrenaline rising within him.

Illyzyan: "Keep moving forward… and end this match… in glory."

For a moment, silence enveloped them—then the voice rang out, thunderous.

Illyzyan (loudly, with passion): "PANZER!  VORWÄRTS!"

Satō slammed the gas pedal, the old engine roaring like a dragon awakening from a long slumber. The StuG III burst out of the forest at full speed. No way back.

Krutz swiftly prepared an AP (Armor Piercing) round, and Illyzyan’s hand was already on the trigger. Through the periscope, he saw the T-34-85 on the left slightly opening a gap in its formation—a small mistake, but a fatal one.

Illyzyan (coldly):"Distance 700 meters… left flank… T-34. I see the gap. Ready to fire."

Krutz: "AP loaded! Ready!"

Illyzyan: "Target locked."

Satō: "Hold on tight. We’re going to shake!"

BANG!!!

The blast of the 7.5cm KwK 37 gun was deafening. The shockwave rattled the entire body of the StuG. The projectile shot straight, striking the side of the T-34-85 precisely between the first and second wheels.

The T-34 lurched to the side, smoke billowing from its turret. The match sensors registered a ‘fatal damage’ warning. The elimination marker flashed on the monitor, and a white flag emerged from the T-34-85.

Match Commentator (over the loudspeaker): "HIT CONFIRMED! Rodina's T-34 eliminated by Teutonic's StuG III! A clean shot!"

Maho Nishizumi leaned forward, her eyes narrowing. Shiho simply stared sharply at the screen, silent but clearly… watching.

Miho: "Ooooh! That one blew up!"

Illyzyan didn’t celebrate. He immediately pressed the internal communication button.

Illyzyan: "Keep moving forward. We’ll use a broken formation. Lead them into a narrow path. One down… seven to go."

The StuG III made a sharp turn, entering a rocky area with a narrow yet advantageous firing angle. Behind it, the Panzer IV began to press towards the right, trying to draw the attention of the SU-100. Meanwhile, the Panzer III with the flag began to pull back, protected by Illyzyan’s left flank.

The battlefield began to shift.

What was once a siege...

Now turned into a hunt.

Rodina Boys' Academy – KV-1 (Tank Leading).

A small tremor was felt even inside the KV-1 cabin.

The KV-1 commander, Leonid Varlamov, a second-year Rodina student known for his discipline and cold demeanor, furrowed his brows as an unexpected report crackled through the radio.

Radio Operator (panicked): "T-34 unit 2 hit! Elimination confirmed! From the southeast, direct fire!"

Leonid replied calmly yet sharply, his voice hoarse with restrained anger, thought for a couple of seconds: “From where? This was supposed to be dead ground. Who fired that shot?”

Loader: “It was a StuG III! The old variant… Ausf. D!”

KV-1 Gun Operator: “StuG III?! In open terrain? That’s impossible!”

Leonid tapped his helmet thoughtfully, his mind racing. He realized at once: they had underestimated their opponent.

Leonid (flat yet cold): “That’s not an ordinary StuG… Their commander just bared his fangs.”

Rodina Tactical Command Tent – Beside the Spectator Field.

Inside the command tent with tactical screens and open radio channels, Rodina’s Senior Trainer, Boris Alekseyev, rose from his chair. His face was stern, eyes sharp as he stared at the digital map where a tank symbol blinked—one T-34 had just been lost.

Boris (standing, holding back anger): “StuG III?! They dared a frontal assault? Foolish… or brilliant.”

A young tactical staff member spoke nervously.

Staff: “Sir, it was a high-precision shot. Over 600 meters with a 7.5cm KwK 37 cannon. No warning at all.”

Boris (staring at the screen): “Illyzyan Elles… that name isn’t unfamiliar. According to the report, he’s the scholarship student from Teutonic.” He recalled the student file he had briefly seen before the match. A young face with dark eyes and an eyepatch. “Still a first-year,” he thought. “And already commanding that old panzer like he was born from steel.”

Boris: “Increase the pressure. Order the SU-100s units to spread out, find firing angles. Don’t let them play cat and mouse. Kill that StuG now!”

Inside the one of SU-100 – Left Flank of Rodina Formation.

SU-100 Commander, Dmitry Sokolov, wiped the sweat from his forehead. He was still young, also just a first-year, and the pressure was starting to set in.

Dmitry: “We’re being watched… they know our gaps. Don’t be reckless. Focus on the thermal. They will strike again.”

Gunner: "But, Commander… it’s just a StuG III Ausf D. We can destroy it with one shot.”

Dmitry (angrily): “And we can be destroyed too if we underestimate them. Did you see that T-34?! Focus!”

**Spectator Stands – Shiho Nishizumi**

From the stands, Shiho observed Rodina’s nervousness through the aerial camera feed.

A faint smile—barely visible—appeared at the corner of her lips.

Shiho (in her mind): “So that’s it… the boy isn’t just talented, he knows when to bite. Hmph… interesting.”

Maho: “They’re starting to panic.”

Miho (still playing with her bokko bear): “Onee-chan, those Soviet tanks are all flustered, huh?”

Intercom Radio – Teutonic Boys’ Academy Team Frequency.

The radio crackled, followed by Illyzyan’s calm yet firm voice, controlling the situation from the StuG III now in the most dangerous position.

Illyzyan: “Oberkommandant, this is Elles. This is your chance to fall back and protect our flagged Panzer III.”

Illyzyan: “If our flagged panzer is eliminated… we all lose. I’ve opened the path. Let us hunt… and strike them.”

Panzer IV Ausf. J – Team Commander, 3rd-Year Middle School Senior, Felix Hagen. Felix listened with clenched teeth. Sweat trickled down his face, and the communication radio shifted slightly. He knew exactly what Illyzyan’s words meant. They had few options—and this might be their only way out.

Felix (over the radio, heavy): "Elles… do you realize this means leaving you and two junior crew members to face a still-intact Soviet formation?"

Illyzyan (flat but full of conviction): "I realize, Commander. But we don’t need a miracle… just one precise shot at a time."

Felix: "...Are you sure you can do this?"

Illyzyan (firmly): "I have no right to be sure. I’ll just do it."

A few seconds of silence filled the air. Then Felix’s voice came through, quiet but steady.

Felix: "Alright… Panzer IV pulling back to the northwest sector. We’ll escort the Panzer III out of the firing line."

Felix (with a changed tone, full of respect): "Elles… make us proud."

Illyzyan (exhales slowly): "Gladly, Oberkommandant."

Inside the StuG III, Krutz and Satō exchanged glances—no jokes, no complaints. Only the growing weight of responsibility. But also, trust.

Satō: "So we’re really becoming hunters now?"

Krutz (with a slight grin): "First-years challenging Rodina seniors? This could go in the school’s history book…"

Illyzyan: "Will we end up as a glorious part of history? Or just a bunch of crazy first-years?"

Illyzyan (in his heart): "And this... this will be the foundation of a new school. A school that won’t be sold off cheaply."

The StuG III’s engine roared once more, steel tracks grinding against the wet earth. They began to arc toward the enemy’s spreading flank.

StuG III Ausf. D – Behind the forest at the foot of the hill.

Illyzyan glanced at the side of the cabin. The original commander of the StuG III was still lying unconscious in his seat. His breath was steady, but his eyes were tightly closed.

With the trigger in his grip and the radio headset attached to his head, Illyzyan exhaled. He was no longer just a gunner. He was the commander.

Illyzyan (calmly, to his crew): "Panzer IV and Panzer III have retreated... so the job of protecting the VIP is now complete. We will truly hunt now."

Krutz (loader): "Seven enemies left. Including those SU-100s that can destroy us with a single shot..."

Satō: "But we have one advantage: we know they don’t know our real position yet."

Illyzyan: "Exactly. They think we’re still behind the trees. But we’ll sneak around to the left side of their formation. Krutz, prepare the AP shells. We’ll target the flank."

Krutz: "AP ready!"

The StuG III moved slowly, its steel wheels crushing the damp ground and tree roots. The forest provided natural cover—the shadows of the leaves dampening the silhouette of the armored vehicle.

Illyzyan peeked through the periscope. He spotted the silhouette of a SU-100 shifting toward the formation—heading back to their original position. Just as he had suspected.

Illyzyan: "Stop. Elevation... two degrees. Angle to the right... four degrees. Target: SU-100, rear."

Illyzyan held his breath for a moment. Then—

Illyzyan: "Fire."

The roar split the air. The 7.5cm KwK 37 shell shot forward, striking the rear hull of the SU-100. A simulated explosion erupted, white smoke billowing up— the elimination logo flashed on the competition screen.

Rodina Boys' Academy – a SU-100 Eliminated – 6 tanks remaining.