The Saga of Tanya The Evil, Vol. 8: In Omnia Paratus

by Carlo Zen

  “Help Lieutenant Serebryakov out! Three volleys of supporting fire!”

  Tanya commands her two companies’ worth of subordinates to fire simultaneously, and they all shoot in a group.

  “Enemy spotted! They’re still fine!”

  “Get out of there, Lieutenant! Three volleys of explosion formulas! Prioritize suppression!”

  “The enemy’s accelerating!”

  “Drop a formula on their head! Block their path!”

  It’s difficult to believe, but that isn’t enough, either. This mage has been fine after sustaining multiple direct hits—they must have an incredibly thick defensive shell and protective film.

  And somehow, they’re still so fast! They must be using a different model than the Federation Army. Quick, tough enemies are the worst. And if they’re skilled enough that Serebryakov is having trouble subduing them, they’re heinous in the extreme. I can’t just ignore them, but it’s vexing that the options for dealing with them are so limited.

  Tanya glances at the Elinium Type 95 she brought as backup and frets. I don’t want to use it, but I might have to.

  The question of how far one’s own mental health should be chipped away at in order to preserve human resources is an ethical dilemma that managers and employers face constantly.

  It’s a troublesome matter for Tanya, too.

  Considering the communications costs she would no doubt incur if she lost her adjutant, some measure of sacrifice must be worthwhile.

  “O Lord, banish this enemy of the divine in your holy name and bring tranquility to the world.”

  Having uttered that irritating mantra overflowing with purity, Tanya manifests an optical sniping formula with unbelievable casting speed. Surely, one would be enough to rip apart the Federation’s new models, but she manifests multiple overlapping formulas before finally firing.

  First, what should have been a gotcha…misses.

  “I miss—No, they dodged?!”

  Tanya had been confident in her precision and power, so she feels betrayed. Elinium Type 95, are you just a piece of junk that eats away at my mind without even getting results?!

  “…O Lord, may my enemy plummet to the earth. By your might, let the land be at peace!”

  With her irritation mixed into her tone, she manifests an even more precise and powerful formula. This one is on course to strike a direct hit.

  And it does.

  Or it should have.

  “Ridiculous! That was a direct hit!”

  And yet, Tanya’s shaking her head mainly in confusion.

  Before her eyes is a scene that forces her to fundamentally doubt whether she really scored a direct hit on the enemy or not.

  It was a sniper formula specifically using an anti-mana sniping round. It should have gone through a defensive shell like a knife through butter.

  It would have blasted through even a Type 97 defensive shell, for sure. But this thing just repelled a direct hit?

  “How strong can you be? Even if you wanna joke about it, there are limits!” Tanya spits. But in her head, she has already given up tackling this opponent alone. The only concerns are to save Serebryakov and then hightail it out of there.

  She doesn’t have even one spare second to waste on tiny efforts.

  “Saturation attack! Spatial detonation! Take the enemy out with carbon monoxide poisoning!”

  “She’ll get caught up in it!”

  Loath to take the time to explain to a panicked Weiss, Tanya calls her adjutant up on the radio and gives it to her straight.

  “As long as it’s not a direct hit, you’re fine, right?! Visha, you can hear me, right?! Outta the way!”

  “Hold o—U-understood!!”

  As soon as Serebryakov’s consent came through, Tanya started moving.

  “Explosion formulas—burn up the oxygen. Less power, more area of effect. We’re going to wreck the enemy’s lungs.”

  The two companies beginning to manifest formulas with zero hesitation are the very pinnacle of closely regulated violence.

  “Fire!”

  Two companies’ worth of explosion formulas fired simultaneously—and aimed solely at oxygen.

  “Lieutenant Serebryakov! You’re alive, right?!”

  “I-I-I’m all right. Somehow, yes.”

  She has visual confirmation that Serebryakov, who had shifted to withdrawing, is safe, so that must show some sort of concern, right? What they call aftercare.

  “Lieutenant Serebryakov, now withdrawing!”

  “Then there’s no need to hold back anymore—good. Use explosion formulas as a smoke screen and mix in sniper formulas as the actual attacks. This time we’ll get them…”

  “The enemy mage is withdrawing!”

  Sometime later, Tanya would come to regret not giving the order to fire and taking their life. But in this moment, at least, she is eager to move on, so she counts repelling the enemy as an acceptable achievement.

  “Shall we pursue?”

  “We’re breaking off! Who has time to waste chasing a retreating enemy?”

  “Understood.”

  Weiss’s awkward grin must mean that even he asked only out of formality; Tanya smiles wryly, rounds the troops up, and begins accelerating to break away from the Federation Army.

  “Glad you’re safe, Lieutenant.”

  “Thank you, ma’am. That said, I would have rather you spared me from getting caught up in that attack.”

  “What choice did we have?”

  “What is that supposed to mean?” Serebryakov puffs her cheeks out in a pout, which is surely a sign that she’s feeling better.

  Then Weiss, who had been flying some ways from the formation, comes over.

  “Way to make it back, Lieutenant.”

  “Thank for earlier, Major… That enemy was…a real handful.”

  “Yeah, I saw. What was that? They had a defensive shell as hard as the Federation’s new models. I can’t believe it could repel optical sniper formulas.”

  “And go so fast at the same time. Honestly, it makes no sense.”

  Her vice commander smiles wryly in response to her adjutant’s sighing and grumbling. If only they could tease First Lieutenant Grantz, then it would be business as usual.

  Okay, okay. Tanya shifts gears. Having confirmed a new, pain-in-the-neck threat, she needs to consider how to deal with it—that’s only fair.

  “Major Weiss, would you be able to take that thing out?”

  “…I think it’d be an awfully hard fight.” Catching on right away that she meant that mage, her vice commander waves a white flag.

  It’s because he’s capable of viewing a power disparity objectively that his reply sends a chill up Tanya’s spine.

  Even Weiss, arguably a seasoned veteran, doubts he can win. This enemy is trouble, no question.

  “I might be able to keep up and not get shot. But to actually down that one, I really don’t know. It would probably be too difficult on my own.”

  “Right? I have no interest in fighting them, either.”

  It would be a game of chicken involving either managing to scratch their defensive shell or running out of energy. Definitely not the kind of thing you’d do on purpose for fun.

  “Between this and the way the Federation troops are qualitatively improving, we just can’t catch a break.”

  “…Speaking of quality, are they planning on coming after us? Perhaps they’ve also improved their tactical decision-making skills?”

  Weiss inquires about the enemy’s attitude, seemingly having his memory jogged by Tanya’s grumbling.

  “They will. I’m sure of that.”

  “Because of this crazy, reckless advance?”

  Tanya bursts out laughing in spite of herself. “Major Weiss, that’s putting it a bit too simply.”

  “By which you mean?”

  “They’re basically hunting dogs.”

  At least, they aren’t plain guard dogs. They’re war hounds, trained and vicious. There’s no wa
y they’ll be satisfied with baring their fangs and barking a bit.

  “Even if we just suppose they’re hunting dogs for a moment—would they turn back when their prey is right in front of them? A cowardly hunting dog who doesn’t even try to dig their teeth in misses the point entirely. They’re coming.”

  “You don’t think they might take some time to consider their tactics?”

  “Do you really think they’re capable of changing their plan on the fly? I sure don’t.”

  Just looking at the formation is enough to tell. If it’s made up of Federation and Commonwealth troops, that’s a multinational unit. In other words, a celebration of diversity! Of course, Tanya won’t full-out dismiss the possibility it was an error. One facet of the truth is that rejecting diversity results in deadlocks.

  But respecting diversity is an adjustment that takes time.

  “It all comes down to time. If the enemy commanders are capable, they’ll try to improve the situation by forcing through the plan that was set in advance rather than wasting time bouncing ideas around.”

  No matter how capable and sincere an individual is, bringing the communication cost down to zero is impossible. The time and energy involved in confirming and deciding on things you already know is considerable. Changing plans is a virtual nightmare.

  Even in peacetime Japan, far removed from the ravages of war, communication costs can’t be escaped. On the contrary, they were almost excessive. Remembering my time as an employee for a company that had recently undergone a merger and working on joint teams with members from various departments illustrates that concept quite clearly.

  A brain made of multiple departments boots up slowly, but changing its mind takes even longer.

  To comment on the cruel reality…war, in the end, is about instantaneous decisiveness. As long as quick and dirty is a shortcut to victory compared to slow and tidy, an organ of state-sanctioned violence with a clear, consolidated chain of command will be useful.

  Which is why a logical enemy would rather choose the barbaric option than hesitate. Sadly, Tanya is incapable of supposing that the enemy is illogical.

  “An enemy unit that has been ordered to chase us down as hunting dogs wouldn’t be able to withstand the political ramifications of turning back now. They don’t have a choice.”

  “Even so, they’re awfully stubborn. You’d think if we’ve already gotten this far, they could just turn around.”

  “I completely agree. They’re persistent as stalkers. Makes me sick.”

  And so by accelerating, accelerating some more, and engaging in some evasive maneuvers, the 203rd Aerial Mage Battalion succeeds in shaking off the enemy.

  We’re lucky that at this point, the enemy doesn’t break away and insist on charging after us.

  After scanning the area on high alert and determining that there are no enemies present, Tanya adjusts their flight path toward the unit’s actual destination, the vicinity of the friendly HQ.

  Then they fly in a straight line, mana signals suppressed.

  Thankfully, perhaps because the enemy lost them, there are no further obstacles. They make great time and reach visual range of the rear of the enemy unit their fellow troops are fighting.

  “I see them! Twelve o’clock! It’s our troops!”

  “Lieutenant, radio the position! Major, get ready to assist with anti-surface strikes. We’ll get behind the enemy they’re facing and—” Before she can say, Kick their asses, her senses interrupt. Bits of gleaming ill will she’s seen before.

  Argh, these sons of bitches.

  “A ton of magic radiation?!”

  Detecting it immediately, Tanya sounds the alarm.

  “Abort the charge! Break!”

  It’s them, the jerks who have been following us from behind all this time. Is it an ambush? Did they guess where we were headed? Probably the latter. So they must have taken a stab at where we would show up after we lost them.

  What a splendid inference, or should I say appropriate. Either way, it’s more obnoxious than I can stand.

  Enemy mages always show up behind you at the worst times.

  If this were a civilized world, we could put this matter to bed in court, but this is the eastern front, and this violent space is hard to call civilized even on the best of days, so we have no choice but to save ourselves. How I miss peace and order.

  “Prepare for combat!” Irritation in her voice as she shouts the order, Tanya initiates erratic evasive maneuvers. She’s aware that this will mess up the formation and slow down the unit’s advance considerably.

  But no matter how much she tries to understand and accept it, the opportunity cost always stings.

  If we hadn’t been bothered by these guys, who knows what kind of productive activities we could have gotten up to! They may not be Commies themselves, but a multinational unit that supports Commies is even worse.

  “Tsk, they’re obstinate to the point of perversion… Deploy optical deception formulas to confuse them and prepare for a firefight!”

  Due to their speed, the unit of mages that appears to be from the Commonwealth is enough of a handful on its own. If the enemy surface units have recovered from their shock, what point is there even of attacking from behind…? Behind?

  “Hmm? …That’s perfect!” I just remembered something.

  I have a company on the ground, don’t I?

  We can use that to strike the enemy’s rear.

  “Lieutenant Grantz, it’s me.”

  “Colonel?!”

  He must be in combat on the ground. His background music is a mixture of heavy machine gun fire and reverberating explosions. It sounds like a pretty fierce fight, but Tanya prioritizes her own needs and gives the order. “We’re in the process of luring the enemy out so we can annihilate them. After we pass overhead, kick the enemy in the pants.”

  “Yes, ma’am! But, uh, what about my escort mission?”

  Ah yes, using them now could put General von Zettour and the others in danger. Personally, Tanya would like to use them for her own safety, but endangering her superior officer would be the same as endangering her own position, so it is a tricky option.

  Just as she is wondering what to do, she is saved from her conflict by the lieutenant general himself hopping on the radio. “I don’t mind. Go ahead.”

  The level, detached way he spoke might have moved Tanya to tears if he wasn’t the one who had forced this nearly impossible task on her in the first place.

  “…I appreciate it. Now then, I hope you’ll watch our art unfold.”

  “I’ll enjoy it.”

  If your superior is watching, there’s nothing to do but give it your all. Even failure at a parlor trick can end up cursing you later on.

  “They’re so intent on playing tag that they’ve forgotten to look where they’re going. Let’s remind them that the world is 3-D, not 2-D!”

  We’ve been fighting as two companies this whole time, so surely the enemy assumes we’re two companies.

  “01 to all units! Three volleys! Suppress the enemy!”

  Formula bullets sparkle, manifested explosion formulas roar, and not wanting to be shown up by the splattering red liquid, Tanya raises her voice again. “O Lord, O Lord, bestow on us shining honor, the iron hammer of providence, and peace and order!”

  “Follow the colonel! Prepare for hand-to-hand combat!”

  “Supporting fire before the charge!”

  When we hold the enemy down and come at them like we mean to confront them head-on, they fire back to intercept. They probably believe without a doubt that a frontal clash is imminent.

  At a glance, it appears both sides will collide with all their might.

  But that isn’t the case.

  “Charge! Charge!”

  The only one capable of imagining a company would suddenly fly up from the ground to interrupt the fight is the one who gave the order.

  “Now! Close in for the pincer!”

  The company, led by Grantz, char
ges up from their position on the ground and into what is quickly becoming a melee.

  They return the favor with a rear attack, and the balance of power leans back in our direction.

  If you’re focusing every last bit of your energy forward right when you get stabbed in the back, it doesn’t matter what kind of hero you are; it will be impossible to maintain formation. As a result, the doggedly resisting enemy mage unit, too, finds itself in disarray.

  That said, at the moment where they wavered between simple chaos and total collapse, the enemy commander must have tightened the reins. They begin to withdraw with some semblance of unit cohesion.

  “The enemy mages are pulling back!”

  Serebryakov’s joyful news brings a slight smile to Tanya’s cheeks. It feels just like getting rid of a stalker. As someone who has experienced being tailed by a degenerate, how could I not feel happy?

  “01 to all units! No pursuit! Fix your formations—hurry!”

  As they regroup, Tanya doesn’t forget to praise the key player. As a superior officer, she keeps in mind how important it is to be considerate.

  “Magnificent job, Lieutenant Grantz!”

  “Not at all. I appreciate the help.”

  “That’s the job. It goes both ways.”

  “I can’t argue with that.”

  He smiles, and she claps him on the shoulder; when she judges she’s adequately closed the distance between them, she gives him an excessively demanding order.

  “You’re going back to the ground to support the general.”

  One must never neglect self-preservation. If she carelessly keeps the escort tied up in the sky, the deputy director of the Service Corps in the General Staff might die an honorable death in battle on the ground, which would result in the brilliant career of Lieutenant Colonel Tanya von Degurechaff dying a dishonorable death in battle.

  “Company, on me! We’re descending!”

  Her subordinate gallantly zooms off. After leaving General von Zettour in his capable hands, Tanya retasks her unit to provide ground support to drive off the remaining enemies.

  “All units, switch gears and get ready to help our troops on the ground! We’re providing air support! Get into anti–surface strike formation!”