by Carlo Zen
“You’re free to shoot them with bullets or blow them up with spells.”
They won’t even have a chance as we slaughter them from the sky unopposed. It’ll be an even bigger turkey shoot than the one in the Marianas. The only question will be how great a victory we can achieve.
“Troops, we’re going to teach these invaders a lesson—with an iron hammer.”
Which is why she makes a fist and brings it satisfyingly down on an imaginary Dacian Army as she shouts to crush them. Beat them into a pulp! Her enthusiasm makes her intention clear to all present.
It was a savage proclamation that the Imperial Army’s advanced forces would literally pulverize the Dacian Army vanguard. The result is a given, so she commands them to go out and make it happen.
“One last thing. I haven’t received any confirmation of this, but our target practice should retaliate…in theory. I don’t think any of you are stupid enough to get shot down, but keep an eye out. Okay, we’re restarting the live-fire exercise. Gentlemen, let the games begin.”
This is a manhunt, in a way—literally. A sport.
Or a story to give the legendary knight Don Quixote a run for his money. After all, our enemy is a bunch of anachronistic heroes from a bygone era challenging a terrifying modern monster.
Leaving the rear personnel and the handful of officers visiting from the General Staff Office to man the garrison, Tanya leads the battalion, setting off as the fastest responding unit in the Imperial Army. Their target is the Dacian Army’s vanguard, three divisions or so that have crossed the border and started the war. The fact that everyone is flying in perfect strike formation and remembering their training means that Tanya’s work is already paying off, to her great satisfaction.
Before long, she manages to make contact with the evacuating Imperial Army Border Patrol units. Receiving the latest about the enemy from them, Tanya is convinced.
Without a doubt, whatever strategy the Dacian Army has in mind is some kind of medieval relic. Moments later, making minute adjustments to their course and preparing for their attack runs as they rush ahead, the battalion sees a writhing mass of humans on the horizon.
How kind of them to wear brightly colored uniforms and pack together in dense formations. Their outdated military doctrine doesn’t take magic strikes or aerial bombardment into consideration. They are at once splendid prey and a wasted mountain of human resources. What a pathetic nation. To have so much human capital but be entirely incapable of putting it to good use.
Anyhow, it’s the Imperial Army’s job to blow these youths away. So I’ll leave the condolences for the sorrow of the widows and elderly to the Principality of Dacia’s foolish government.
“Aconitum 01 to all hands. This operation is a go! Teach those fools the definition of war!”
The battalion is using an incredibly obvious, textbook tactic for aerial mages facing ground forces, where three of the four companies attack from three different directions. That leaves one company leftover, which is a great problem to have. Normally, the enemy would have direct support, and I’d send that company to fight for control of the air, but…if you can believe it, today they are simply extras.
“Company commanders, I’m expecting you to follow your orders and show me good results!”
“““Understood!”””
I could save them as backup, but things are going so smoothly it hardly seems like I need them. The companies on the attack aren’t even attracting any anti–air fire with their tight maneuvers. All the enemy ground troops can seem to do is panic as my mages lay waste to them from the sky. If all I do is watch, people might start saying I get paid to stand around.
“I’m stumped, Lieutenant. There’s nothing for us to do.”
It’s not as if I’m pro-war or a workaholic, but I do worry what other people will think if I’m the only one not being productive while everyone else is working. It has been two months since the battalion was formed, and it’s clear to Tanya that the General Staff is keeping a close eye on how they are doing. There’s a strong need to take aggressive actions and achieve appropriate results.
“…I was bracing myself for a difficult battle.”
“You’re nervous about three measly divisions on a reckless, half-baked rampage? That doesn’t sound like a veteran of the Rhine front.”
“I mean, Major…it’s three divisions. I don’t mean to be presumptuous, but your sense of these things is…a little, er…never mind.”
Ahh. I realize that Lieutenant Serebryakov is at least a little bit right. I should use my words properly. This Dacian unit does consider itself to be three divisions.
Is my adjutant’s hesitance a sign of her apprehensions regarding my lax use of specialized vocabulary? …That has to be it, without a doubt. I guess it’s my mistake for taking a post-structuralist lightly. It’s very dangerous when phenomena are evaluated based on words. I’ve got to deconstruct this and remedy my error.
“…Sorry, Lieutenant Serebryakov. It seems you’re right.”
“Er, ma’am?”
“Yes, technically, I should have said it’s a fifty-thousand-man mob on a reckless rampage. If you don’t properly define your terms, of course you’ll invite misunderstanding. Honestly, what was I thinking…?”
It appears Lieutenant Serebryakov and the others were expecting the fight to be a bit tougher. Their ability to brace themselves for a harrowing battle against a mighty enemy shows good mettle, but it was my mistake to label the enemy forces “divisions.” Tanya can only show remorse for making her subordinates think the Dacian Army is a serious military power.
This conflict will be this world’s first world war. For most soldiers, it will be their first experience with many things, including the menace of aerial fighting power. They’re so caught up in two-dimensional warfare that they have yet to understand the value of the sky when battles become three-dimensional.
“Okay. We should participate, too. Command Company, follow me. Let’s poke at their leaders.”
That’s why she wonders how this battle against opponents with no presence in the air could be any more one-sided. Lieutenant Serebryakov and the others’ worries are starting to seem a little amusing. The point of this battle is simple. All they have to do is reap the heads of the enemy soldiers. Then they’ll transition to blowing any remnants of the enemy forces to literal smithereens.
“On me! On me!”
We swoop down and drop formula-fixed anti-surface grenades. The goal with these is to scatter shrapnel, so they explode above the enemy soldiers. The fools aren’t even wearing iron helmets, so their heads turn into pincushions. But we don’t have time to watch; the company preps formulas, locates optimal locations, then opens fire with full power.
We blow away the tightly packed infantry, and the surface devolves into total chaos as soldiers run in all directions trying to avoid the blasts. There is some sporadic return fire, but for infantry rifles to pierce our defensive shells, they would need to wear them down with a dense barrage.
This battlefield, devoid of the harsh sound of heavy machine-gun fire, is a horrible place for the infantry, forced to use nothing but their basic firearms in rudimentary anti-air tactics, but for those of us who can fly, there’s nothing better.
“The Dacian Army is dragging their feet. They’re too slow. All companies, give me an update.”
“Everything’s fine, Major.”
“No problems here.”
“This really is a live-fire exercise.”
“It’s weird. I was sure we were the ones being attacked, but…”
This is such a letdown. The scene below is so absurd that I nearly wonder if we mixed up offensive and defensive roles somehow. Those Entente Alliance numbskulls crossed the border without intending to fight, but once battle was joined, they took it seriously and fought almost too passionately.
The Principality, on the other hand, has plenty of motivation and declared war from their end, but they just have no idea what war
even is.
“This really is strange. Did they think they could hit us and we wouldn’t hit them back?”
“Seriously, these poor half-wits.”
Even in a fistfight, you expect some retaliation after punching someone. Of course, when two nations’ instruments of violence clash, you should be able to maintain a minimum of dignity, despite the foolish quarrel, with artillery. These guys need to take a tip from Frederick the Great.
I’m stuck waging a war against these idiots, so clearly I’m the one who has it the hardest. Of course, ever since the evil Being X interfered with my ultra-ordinary working adult life, I haven’t been optimistic about my fate even once…
“By the way, what’s that? What are they doing?”
As Tanya finishes communicating with the companies, she adjusts her altitude to prepare for another attack run when she notices some kind of organized movement beginning on the ground. According to Imperial Army textbook, the expected enemy response to this situation would be to have their soldiers spread out and begin anti–air fire in areas designated by their commanders.
But rather than putting space between one another, they are starting to form densely packed squares.
“Are they panicking?”
True, becoming isolated on a battlefield is a terrifying prospect. My adjutant’s understanding of the situation is perhaps the most realistic…but from what I can see, officer-looking types are actually commanding them to form up in those ranks.
“…It doesn’t seem to be confusion. I think they’re making an infantry square…”
“But that’s so stupid…! The age of cavalry is over!”
Yes, just as Lieutenant Serebryakov’s astonished remark would suggest, we are conducting not a cavalry charge but magic ground attacks. The correct response is spreading out to minimize casualties, and it’s honestly hard to imagine that there are soldiers in this day and age who would form an infantry square under the belief it would achieve anything. Even a civilian should be able to tell that bunching up would be dangerous.
“How far back in time are they living? Is this some kind of mistake?”
Or maybe another power has given them some sort of new doctrine or technology? But as those unlikely scenarios flit across Tanya’s mind, the simplest solution is to quit worrying and attack to observe their reaction.
A moment later, however, she instinctively explodes at the scene unfolding in front of her. “Weiss!! Why are you running away?!”
She can’t believe her eyes. Confronted with an enemy infantry square, Lieutenant Weiss’s company has hastily changed course.
The Dacian troops are all packed together. They’re doing nothing but holding their positions and bravely waiting for the moment they get blown up, the poor bastards. The pain of being such a badly misused human resource would have evaporated in an instant.
Conscious that she is practically quaking with anger, Tanya screams, “Hey! Why are you reversing?! Why are you breaking attack formation?!”
“Major!!”
But the scene has made Tanya so furious that Lieutenant Serebryakov’s startled shout has no effect.
Weiss’s company was in position to make their assault, but then they hastily turned away from the enemy as if they were scared. As far as Tanya could tell, there was no evidence of a counterattack that could warrant such a move.
Her suspicion that they are fleeing before the enemy—the worst explanation possible—rapidly eclipses any other thoughts. Her men are spreading out and pulling back in the face of such flaccid defense? The sheer spinelessness astounds her.
Unaware that her teeth are grinding, she doesn’t even hide the fact that she’s lost her temper. “Lieutenant, go get the vice commander! If he resists, you can shoot him!”
“Y-yes, ma’am.”
I order Serebryakov to grab Lieutenant Weiss by the scruff of his neck and drag him over on the double, but at the same time, a sinking sense of betrayal takes over. I thought he was going to be a good vice commander. I thought he was a great subordinate. So how—HOW?!—could he be deserting now? This is ludicrous. The fact that the vice commander of the 203rd Aerial Mage Battalion fled before this rabble will be a blot on my career that will haunt me for the rest of my life.
I at least want to sublimate my rage rather than waste it on chewing him out, so I seal a compound explosion formula inside a magic bullet. Thanking the archaic mind-set that had the Dacian Army still struggling to maintain ranks, I fire. The shot lands right where I aimed, in the center of the enemy formation, and detonates.
Seriously, this is the easiest fight. It can’t even be counted as one of the Lord’s trials; it’s ridiculous.
“Major, here’s Lieutenant Weiss.” Lieutenant Serebryakov makes her report as efficiently as possible, as if to avoid conflict.
Tanya proceeds matter-of-factly, not because she interpreted the gesture favorably but more because it simply didn’t register. “Thanks. Take my company. Continue the attack.”
“Yes, ma’am!”
Even the continuing verbal exchange is irritating. Having rather irresponsibly entrusted her company to Serebryakov, Tanya closes in on Weiss as if she’s going to bite him, openly livid. He has no idea why the commander has suddenly called him over.
“All right, Lieutenant, if you have an excuse, you’d better give it to me before I shoot you.”
“M-Major von Degurechaff, what exactly do I need an excuse for?”
“You’re suspected of fleeing before the enemy, Lieutenant. If you need an explanation, maybe we should grill you in a court-martial!”
Weiss still hasn’t figured out why he was called over. Of course he doesn’t. After all, he can’t recall making any mistakes. But it isn’t normal for the battalion commander’s adjutant to take a position to shoot him down as if he were an actual enemy and summon him “immediately.”
“Major! My men and I would never abandon our duty…”
This is precisely the moment he realizes he’s stepped on a huge land mine, despite not understanding why. What did I do? Still, he can sincerely swear that he only intended to fulfill his duty. His conscience vis-à-vis God and his fatherland is clean.
And that’s why he dares to argue against his superior officer, who looks ghastly enough to be a furious vampire.
“Then tell me, Lieutenant, why you drew back and spread out just moments ago? Why did you turn around?”
“What?”
“Explain why you turned tail and scattered in the face of the enemy!”
But the shouts raining down on him didn’t take his defense into account at all; on the contrary, the anger and murderous hostility only increased.
“Ma’am. The enemy infantry assumed an anti–air formation, so I played it by the book and pulled my unit back to the edge of their range and ordered containment fire on the enemy unit.”
“Book? What book?”
“The Twenty-Second Aerial Magic Combat Field Manual.”
His response is dead serious. From Weiss’s perspective, he skillfully acted according to his training in the Eastern Army Group and made the right call. But I want to teach him via actual combat that referring to the manual for every operation is nonsensical. Really, there’s a limit to what the manual even covers.
That’s why it takes me a minute to remember… Ah, right, it was recommended in the section about anti-surface strikes to avoid anti–air positions…but after recalling it, Tanya’s face twists up in disgust.
“Wait a minute. Look over there! That’s enemy infantry! Do you not understand that I ordered you to attack immediately?!”
“Yes, they were in a close-ranks firing position, so I ordered my company to avoid them.”
It’s just— It’s just a bunch of infantry standing close together! she wants to scream, but Weiss’s explanation was straight out of the textbook.
“Lieutenant, let me make this clear. If we have any mages who would get shot down by that, I will kill them before the enemy has a chance.
”
“But, Major—”
“Listen up, Mr. Common Sense, I’ll explain this only once. Do you really think bolt-action infantry rifles firing at the edge of their effective range can pierce a mage’s defensive shell?!”
It’s not as if you’re heavy cavalry about to get dashed against a tercio with their pikes and muskets. The utter stupidity! The lethality of our sidearms alone is enough to render their infantry square defense useless. The point proves itself when you look at the current Rhine front or the amusing nastiness in the Far East between Akitsushima and the Federation.
Hence Tanya’s difficulty grasping the notion of her subordinate who had been trained with completely outdated doctrine. If the infantry has gathered together to commit suicide, why not assist them? But apparently, that’s difficult to comprehend for someone who has never experienced actual combat. Especially since live ammunition doesn’t get used on the exercise range, the sight of all those barrels pointing at them from a dense infantry formation tends to elicit a conditioned reaction to reverse course; the longer someone has been serving and training, the stronger that tendency.
“I’ll give you a chance to clear your name. Try shooting a formula straight into the middle of that formation.”
“Huh?”
“…After me. I’ll give you an example.”
With that, Tanya loads a magic bullet into her rifle and maneuvers neatly down to attack the middle of the long formation. If his superior officer is going to rush the enemy, Weiss has no room to argue; all he can do is follow. He’s grimly determined as he hastily swoops after her to perform what he’s sure is a desperate, reckless charge.
“…You blew them away.”
“There are no words. Now do your duty!”
He casts the formula directly in the middle, according to his training. They even have time to watch scraps of flesh scatter in all directions. Whether the enemy could defend or not, surely, they have some way of countering—is what most of the Imperial Army troops think. As Weiss is definitely in that camp, seeing Dacian soldiers, who went to the trouble of bunching up with no plan, get blown apart is an utterly novel sight, even on a battlefield.