Deus lo Vult

by Carlo Zen

  “…I guess that makes this my own personal war.”

  On a battlefield where my side’s triumph is already assured, I’m currently preparing to die in mortal combat. Well, technically, the enemy’s goal is to provide support for their withdrawing troops by striking at our artillery, not to eliminate me. In other words, shooting me down is probably something along the lines of swatting a pesky fly for the enemy mages.

  It’s truly insulting that my life and career are being endangered while I’m treated as nothing more than a side note. It’s my right to look down on others; no one should be allowed to do that to me. Without a thought about what’s going to come after, I start doping up with one interference formula after the next. Improved reaction time, increased instantaneous strength. Before my brain registers the shooting pain of forcing open the magic circuits, I alleviate it with intracerebral narcotics. Ahhh, I’m getting pumped. My body’s running hot with excitement.

  I wonder if this is how it feels to get high. Now, if the worst case happens and the enemy shoots me down, I’ll be able to escape without collapsing from the pain.

  “What an honor. This is great. Such a wonderful moment. Ahh, this is so, so much fun. I can barely contain myself.”

  “Fairy 08?”

  I’ve been talking to myself intending to be heard, so I’m relieved that the CP seems to pick it up. This way, I have a witness who can testify how eager I am to fight. I’m bursting at the seams with excitement. Even when the world is delightfully spinning, a mage’s brain manages to sustain clear thought. It’s a truly wonderful thing.

  It effectively protects my thought processes from being clouded by drugs or insanity. I’m so lucky to be a mage…though it’s not like I want to be a soldier.

  “I was afraid this job would be boring, but now I’m the star of the battlefield, getting to take on a whole army by myself.”

  There’s absolutely no way I should die out here. The world isn’t fair—far from it—but that’s merely a matter of market failure. The market’s shortcomings have to be corrected.

  As the problem ultimately boils down to cost, I have to raise mine as high as possible. And a marketing strategy is always imperative. I need to put myself out there. Giving it my all, never letting a prime chance to self-promote pass me by. In other words, making the most of every opportunity. If I can manage that, life will become rather enjoyable.

  “I was afraid I’d get lost among our friends and foes in the mayhem of battle, but instead I get to stand in the limelight.”

  It doesn’t make me the least bit happy, and I’m the only one in this airspace. The fact that I can’t even sneak away makes this situation all the worse. Circumstances on the field have left me with painfully few options. That being the case, all I can do is consider how best to please the audience (aka my superior officers) with my performance. Surprisingly, humans can put on quite a show when cornered.

  “So this is what it’s like to feel deeply touched. ‘It’s a good day to die…’ Damn, it really is.”

  I chuck the observer gear. These heavily armed enemy mages are envisioning sluggish ground combat, but we’re going to be dancing instead. Beginning basic fighter maneuvers, I pump myself up with the exhilarating thought. This is nothing more than the accursed best choice out of all the awful options, and as disinclined as I am to take it, the only thing that matters is carrying out my duty and surviving.

  The appearance of fulfilling my mission will suffice. After a respectable dogfight, I can pretend the enemy either got away or shot me down. Then someone else can deal with them. By my calculations, even a group willing to brave the impossible to take out our artillery won’t bother coming after me if I fly off somewhere else.

  Rather than desert in the face of the enemy, my efforts will merely fall short, rendering me unable to continue fighting. It’d be ideal if I could crash-land as close as possible to friendly troops. And it’d be even better if I could slow down those Entente Alliance maggots. After all, time is far more valuable than gold, and the jerks trying to break through are pillaging it. While only a minor consolation, it would also be nice to get some payback. Ergo, I won’t allow anyone to come out the victor in this skirmish. And if anyone did, it would be me.

  I don’t enjoy pain in the slightest, and I have absolutely no desire to get all muddy, but I don’t want to die. There is absolutely no reason I should die anyway. I’ll lap up muddy water if that’s what it takes to survive. Life is a battle in and of itself.

  “…Commander Sue! Enemy reinforcements! A company is coming up fast! And I’m picking up a mage platoon behind them. I suspect they’re reinforcements!”

  God, Oh, God, why? Why does this have to happen?

  “The enemy has breached the Sixteenth Holelstein Division’s defenses!”

  How in the world did it come to this?

  “Colonel Lacamp’s battalion is issuing a distress signal to the strike team! They’re jumping into a fight with a battalion of imperial mages. They say they won’t be able to hold the escape route for long.”

  Where did we go wrong?

  “I know! We don’t have time for this. Can’t we take out the observer mage already?!”

  From his view in the sky, Lieutenant Colonel Sue was forced to acknowledge that the situation of his fatherland’s army, engulfed in flames and collapsing, was only growing worse with each passing second. His face contorted with anger and impatience, but even if he screamed to stop the indirect fire until his voice went hoarse, it wouldn’t improve the situation whatsoever.

  “Our shots are grazing!”

  If his glare could start fires, Lieutenant Colonel Sue would have seared the enemy mage nimbly soaring through the sky until they were burned so badly not even a crisp remained. Agh, how could this happen when we’re flying over Nordland airspace that we know so well? Today everything is putting a sour taste in my mouth, even these familiar skies.

  “Bastard’s got us in a fine position. Fighting over allies is a pain in the ass.”

  The majority of his men were pursuing a single enemy. Sue couldn’t call that mage a coward for doing their best to survive. If he wasn’t personally involved, he would have deeply admired and respected the display of valor and indomitable fighting spirit. As it was, though, they didn’t have time to appreciate the enemy’s bravery.

  Anson Sue’s ears heard only the incessant firing of artillery, and his eyes saw naught but allies blasted to smithereens in the bombardment.

  “…Damn politicians!”

  If asked who was to blame, the reply was indisputable. The lone curse that slipped out of his mouth said it all. Sue wanted to take the fools—those who mocked the Treaty of Londinium, casually ignored it, and then made it part of their election campaign—and stand them up out here. The ones the politicians were throwing into harm’s way were the fatherland’s citizens.

  “Get in close! Prepare to charge!”

  “Commander Sue! Let’s go with the alternative plan and strike the enemy artillery! If you have one squad stay, no matter how fast the mage might be, they should be more than enough to deal with them!”

  “Forget it, Lagarde. Enemy reinforcements are already on their way. We’d get wiped out!”

  For better or for worse, Lieutenant Colonel Sue’s troops had penetrated too deeply into enemy lines. Perhaps if they had come prepared with a few more men, they could have taken the enemy battery by assault. But when they initially broke through, he had to leave several units to hold the breach open. That left him with a group the size of a reinforced platoon.

  “Cunningham, how long until enemy reinforcements arrive?!”

  “The closest formation will be here in 480 seconds! If we don’t hurry, they’ll be on our tail!”

  With imperial units coming to intercept one after the next, even if they risked annihilation to carry out the assault, he couldn’t see how they would survive. Still, he would do what he could with the manpower available to him.

  That was Lieutenant
Colonel Anson Sue’s sound decision as an Entente Alliance soldier, as well as the limit of what he could accomplish given the limited information he had. He was indifferent to military romanticism, so when he figured the enemy batteries would be heavily guarded, he quickly gave up on attacking them.

  But the truth was cruel. The airspace above the batteries was wide open.

  “I know. If we… Damn it! Lagarde?!”

  “Captain?! Captain Lagarde?!”

  “Cunningham, cover him! Lagarde, can you pull up? Lagarde?!”

  Right before his eyes, Captain Lagarde had blindly rushed the enemy mage. His support, unsure how to react, fell out of sync, and the moment they stopped firing for fear of accidentally hitting the captain, the enemy cast a formula. Lagarde had charged under the assumption that support fire would stifle enemy mobility, and now he was too near to veer away.

  “Oh no, you don’t! Cover me.”

  Lagarde was caught by much more than just a shock wave—he took a direct hit from the blast itself. Slightly altering his course wouldn’t have helped. In an instant, his protective film peeled off, and his defensive shell shattered. He made a split-second decision to shield his face with his arms, but it was still only through God’s good grace that he survived.

  “…Break! The bastard was aiming for that! Thor!”

  Sue’s side had superior numbers; they were concentrated on the firing line. But the price they paid for letting go of an enemy after pinning them down was too high.

  “Casualty report!”

  “Two downed, and Captain Lagarde is severely injured.”

  With both arms burned, Lagarde was falling, only dimly conscious through the blood loss and pain. First Lieutenant Thor had been hit by the explosive formula at close range as well when he darted into the line of fire, hoping to cover for his comrade, so practically speaking, he was also no longer combat capable.

  “Grah, they won’t get away with this. Commander, I’ll make a rush at the enemy. Back me up!”

  “Agh, damn it! Cover him!”

  “Hit! Come on, hit!”

  “You’re mine!”

  Amid all of that, Sue was certain he heard, “Gotcha.”

  The voice sounded almost happy—like the laugh of a lunatic.

  “Stop, Baldr! Pull back. That mage is going to…,” Sue began to cry out, but in the very next moment, the imperial mage cast a spell that engulfed everyone around them.

  “A…suicide bombing…?”

  He didn’t want to comprehend such a sight, but he had witnessed it himself.

  “Commander, time’s up! They’re almost on top of us!”

  “…We took out the observer! Pull out!”

  UNIFIED YEAR 1923, IMPERIAL CAPITAL BERUN, IMPERIAL ARMY GENERAL STAFF OFFICE, PERSONNEL DIVISION, SECTION CHIEF OFFICE

  Major von Lergen, part of the team who handled the Imperial Army’s Personnel Division, was smoking as he relaxed a head weary from overwork. His well-defined features, reminiscent of the Junker aristocracy, gave an impression of masculine vitality and intelligence. At the moment, however, they were drawn into a grimace, and he emitted a groan in spite of himself.

  The General Staff’s Achievement Assessment Department of the Personnel Division investigated frontline achievements and suggested the appropriate decorations and bonuses to the top brass. It was a keystone of the Imperial Army’s personnel affairs. The General Staff’s mid-level officers were posted there to build experience as candidates to become the Empire’s future generals. Naturally, the tradition was to choose the best.

  As expected, these individuals were highly regarded for their ability. Lergen proved that the superior officer who designated him chief of decorations had a good eye by successfully processing all the award nominations in a timely manner despite the fierce battles to the north and the ensuing flood of recommendations.

  Lergen unconsciously stopped his pen hand mid-scrawl as he stared at documents from the north regarding recommendations for distinctions and applications for medals and suddenly groaned. It was only natural for his subordinates in the department to send him worried looks that asked, Is something the matter?

  “…I had no idea she was in Norden,” Lergen whispered as he exhaled a puff of smoke, displaying irrefutable unease and disgust in response to the documents.

  The name of the recommended officer printed there was “Magic Second Lieutenant Tanya Degurechaff.” She had graduated from the Imperial Army Military Academy second in her class and encountered a disturbance in Norden after her unit training in the north. She then put up a valiant fight with the Northern Army Group, where her brilliant feat and valuable contribution to the army led the commanding officers on-site to submit a joint recommendation. If Lergen viewed it like all the other papers received by the Achievement Assessment Department, it was truly just another formal document. If anything, it seemed a bit unusual for them to assign an alias.

  Naturally, as a member of Personnel, he had a duty to maintain fairness and objectivity. It wasn’t as though he didn’t appreciate the valuable acts of self-sacrifice Lieutenant Degurechaff took in combat up north. She had completely dedicated herself to a delaying action and tied down an enemy unit. While she ultimately wasn’t able to detain them until reinforcements arrived, she defeated one and possibly two others in a bold move that stopped the enemy assault. Though she ended up literally covered with wounds, she fulfilled her duty and diligently supported her allies the whole time. As large as the Imperial Army was, it was rare to find such commendable acts of self-sacrifice.

  Normally, Lergen would have no cause for hesitation; on the contrary, he would have drawn up the documents to expedite the process for her to receive distinctions. But unfortunately, Lergen had known of Second Lieutenant Tanya Degurechaff ever since she was a first-class student at the military academy. She didn’t exactly leave a good impression on him.

  It happened during one of the many occasions Personnel Division business took him to the academy. That was when he saw it unfold. Small rather than petite, the girl was young enough that it would have been perfectly appropriate for her to still play sweetly with toys. But instead he witnessed the surreal scene of her roaring, brandishing her computation orb and scattering a line of cadets. That was the one and only time that he had ever questioned his eyes.

  Normally, a simple mental note stating She’s a gifted mage who skipped ahead would suffice. In fact, his initial impression was There really are precocious child prodigies out there.

  In spite of sympathetic voices that had reservations about deploying a child whose age hadn’t yet hit double digits to the front lines, the army’s empirical evidence strongly suggested that mages matured early to begin with. In times like these, the authorities were perfectly willing to send grade school boys and girls to the front lines as long as they were talented mages and had volunteered. Of course, the applicants accepted into the military academy didn’t receive special consideration for their assignments. This prodigy had performed within her abilities while demonstrating her devotion to the Empire. Under normal circumstances, that would have been the extent of it. Under normal circumstances. But when he really thought about it, the situation was terrifying.

  This child—this young girl—had yet to reach ten years of age. The thought of her flying around the battlefield like a seasoned soldier was inherently chilling. While Lergen didn’t mean to speak poorly of the academy, he wanted to ask the girl’s instructors whether they had created a killing doll instead of preparing her to become a magic second lieutenant.

  For one thing, typical officer cadets exhibited massive inconsistencies between their actions and words. For all their bravado, newly appointed officers were surprisingly useless. It wasn’t uncommon that all anyone asked from the overly enthusiastic cadets was to not hold back the veteran officers. But Second Lieutenant Degurechaff was a textbook example of “a woman of her word.” Since her days at the academy, she had shown glimpses of surprisingly realistic values.

>   According to the instructors Lergen pumped for information, after learning of the policy for first-class students to instruct second-class students, she proclaimed that she would weed out the incompetent fools. The enthusiasm wasn’t uncommon for first-class students, and so the instructors initially laughed it off as healthy enthusiasm; however, Degurechaff stayed true to her word, to such extremes that it made the blood rush from the instructors’ faces.

  While out on a field training exercise, a second-class student started a minor quarrel and foolishly contradicted First-Class Mentor Tanya Degurechaff’s orders, moronically underestimating her young age and outward appearance. Lergen witnessed the moment she attempted to carry out her duty as his commanding officer and literally moved to execute him on the spot for insubordination, as dictated by military law. That incident marked the moment Lergen felt that out of all the countless Imperial Army magic officers, Tanya Degurechaff was a dangerous one worth remembering.

  Of course, the insubordinate cadet should have been severely punished. Regulations and training formed the very heart of the Empire. If no one heeded them, the foundations of the army would crumble. When an issue concerned fundamental doctrine, standard officer attitude was actually for instructors to take a firm stance.

  In fact, an officer’s pistol historically served as a tool for punishing desertion or insubordination. There was no need to argue that maintaining discipline among one’s subordinates was one of the major duties assigned to an officer.

  But even so. Degurechaff took it too far when she screamed, “If you’re too dim-witted to remember orders, how about I split open your skull and pound them in for you?!” and drew a magic blade on the insubordinate cadet she had pinned down. Lergen was certain he had seen the blade coming down the moment the instructors rushed over and pulled her off. If they hadn’t stopped her, she definitely would have killed the man.

  Perhaps Degurechaff made an outstanding officer on the front, but she was definitely not of sound mind.