by Carlo Zen
“A miracle?”
“Give glory to the Lord and bear witness to his miracles.”
Everything that transpires is like a living nightmare. Ultimately, I’m cursed, I have a horrible time, and in the end I finally—finally—get released after we finish collecting a certain amount of data. I don’t care where I go as long as it isn’t there. I just want to get away.
As if to grant my wish, the Republic to the west goes out of its way to declare war. Just the notice I’ve been waiting for. It arrives right as I’m about to despair for the world. My mind is saved.
But I guess the easy life is hard to come by.
[chapter] III The Watch/Guard on the Rhine
THE RHINE FRONT
The sky over the Rhine Front… Among the mages soaring through it is Magic Second Lieutenant Tanya Degurechaff. If anything separates her from the others, it’s that she’s been ordered to fly solo.
Why was I given such orders?
Because the higher-ups are idiots.
And so I’m flying around the front lines alone.
The whole sad story of how I was sent here can be told in three sentences. Perhaps this is unexpected for the Empire. But as someone hastily selected for deployment due to the higher-ups’ lack of foresight, I can’t really let it go as simply “an unanticipated turn of events.”
I’ve learned from my experience against the Entente Alliance on the northern front that there’s no cover in the sky. Clouds are about the closest thing you can get. And as for defense, mages are lucky they’re tough.
But just because I’m resilient doesn’t mean I’m immortal. If someone asks me to stand in front of a high-penetration sniper rifle or a machine gun with a caliber that breaks the scale, my answer will be a flat no. Solo assignments are worse for mages than any other branch of the military. Nevertheless, the brass ordered Tanya to fly alone in hopes of drawing out a strategic delay.
How can a lowly second lieutenant possibly dodge the order? All I can do is adhere to my employer’s regulations like a salaryman. I want to weep for the lack of such a noble concept—a soldier’s right to refuse. As for my aerial combat maneuvers, my diligent training in the academy earned me the ACM Skill Badge. Whining that I can’t fly isn’t a valid tactic at this point.
And so, no matter how loath she was to go, Tanya nevertheless scrambled to fly ahead of the land forces. She would serve as airborne early warning and a scout for the forward warning line. Western Army Group’s Control Center gave her the call sign “Hawkeye.” It was certainly preferable to “Fairy.”
“Hawkeye 03 to Command Post. Please respond.”
Hawkeye 03 is my temporary call sign as a member of the early warning team. With eyes like a hawk, my job is to fly ahead to search for enemies and notify the advancing troops if I find any. Other than that, I’m supposed to maintain a fixed distance from the approaching enemy and continue gathering intelligence. Depending on the situation, my duties might eventually include taking on the role of forward air controller to guide direct support groups.
Unfortunately, though, I have to admit this job is tougher than I thought it would be. I didn’t realize I’d have to work so hard just to contact the controller of the area I’ve been assigned to.
“…Hawkeye 03 to Command Post. Please respond.”
Ever since the surprise attack, radio communications have been growing more and more chaotic. With that in mind, perhaps I’m lucky that ground control eventually connects to one of Tanya’s repeated—and exasperated—calls.
“This is Seventh Provisional Field Command. Call sign Lizard 08. Reception is poor but not a problem. Hawkeye 03, send your traffic.”
Basically every single type of unit targeting land forces wants to take out the enemy’s eyes in the sky—aerial mages—first thing. The situation is essentially the same as the one I experienced on my mission in Norden. If an army fails to secure air and magic supremacy, it’s akin to losing their ability to see. Lone magic officers are preyed upon more than any other unit of the military.
In a military operation, the first course of action is generally to eliminate interference, not that you can afford to neglect anything.
“Roger, Lizard 08. I can hear you on my end as well. Commencing support mission now.”
“Thanks, Hawkeye 03. Glad to have you! We’ve been needing another pair of eyes.”
And that makes what’s coming next even worse. Now I have to kill the excitement of troops who are sincerely thrilled to finally get decent support.
“Hawkeye 03 to Lizard 08. Sorry to say this so soon, but don’t expect much help from me after all. I’ve picked up a large group approaching fast from up ahead.”
As a solo mage under enemy assault, it’s out of my hands. If I get attacked the moment I arrive, then I have to defend myself before I can provide intelligence support.
Personally speaking, Tanya feels no desire to take pointless risks out of some desire to sacrifice herself for the greater good. She focuses as much as she possibly can on ensuring her safety. Anyway, if it’s necessary to fly solo, then the moment enemy detection is confirmed, fleeing becomes the name of the game.
So although I hate to draw attention, I gain altitude using the power of the Type 95 computation orb, which has been issued to me for field tests. As always, I take advantage of my acceleration abilities and ascend to a certain point, where I can quickly dart up and out of range of any hostile enemy aircraft sent after me. At the same time, in anticipation of anti–air fire from the ground, I form the best protective film I can beneath me; a single hit would probably be all I can take.
The altitude I choose for my survival is eight thousand feet. That’s the upper limit for combat operations, which were made possible by the protection of the Lord and Type 95. According to the mad scientist, this is the fruit of a miraculous collaboration between the hands of God and man, but the details of how this technological innovation was accomplished are immensely unpleasant for a certain free-spirited individual. Not only is this device cursed, but the most vexing part of all is that Tanya has no hope of escaping the duty of being its dedicated tester, since she’s the only one who can operate it.
Well, there are other ways to look at the situation; someone might describe it as being “in the care of providence” or “blessed,” but Tanya adamantly refuses to think of it in that light. There are reasons for that I don’t even want to talk about.
In a manga I read a long time ago, a member of a crime syndicate whispered that secrets make a woman beautiful, but that’s an unmitigated lie. The more Tanya uses this orb, the deeper it engraves this “faith” or whatever in her mind. With no choice but to praise the Lord, I’m dying for my inner self to be free again.
Well, before I start to think about this stuff too much, I should at least do the job before me. It’s time to get down to business. This is what it means to be hounded by reality until you lose your inner freedom.
“An approximately company-sized group of mages is rapidly approaching from three o’clock.”
Tanya conveys what she can observe of the enemy to ground control as she gains altitude, all the while grinding her teeth and vehemently cursing the ineptitude of the higher-ups in her head.
Tanya was out here with a target on her back due to their failure to notice the François Republic’s attack coming from the west. Their gravest error was committing forces to trample the Entente Alliance in earnest. They had faithfully followed the theories of force concentration, pursuing battle in their desire for ever greater military achievement. Some even had delusions of annexation, it seemed.
Thanks to that, they left their own country unguarded, stupidly inviting an invasion from the west. I can’t help but laugh.
Normally, according to the Empire’s defense plan, it’s fine for the north to just focus on delaying operations. The Northern Army Group is responsible for the northeastern front; lately, there’s been an argument that they should support the Eastern Army Group against the Empir
e’s primary potential enemy, the Federation. If each individual army group was prioritizing defense, reinforcements would be only sporadically available, and they would have no hope of achieving total victory.
As such, the General Staff had apparently schemed to take advantage of the unanticipated large-scale invasion and cut down the Entente Alliance with a single stroke by mobilizing reserves on a grand scale.
Mobilizing so many troops, however, rapidly altered the situation. “The art of war is of vital importance to the state,” but the Empire’s foolhardy mobilization showed poor judgment at a time when established national strategy called for caution; whether it liked it or not, its actions had provoked the surrounding countries.
In the same way the Empire hoped to proactively take out the Entente Alliance to gain future national defense advantages, the François Republic decided to take advantage of the opening and launch a preemptive strike of its own. Only an idiot could say they didn’t see it coming.
To the Empire, the mobilization was surely meant to address the problems between it and the Entente Alliance. The neighboring nations are nervous about the Empire’s ever-present interest in increasing its military might, however, and consider the prospect of a break in the encirclement terrifying. Not to mention that François Republic, to the west, is unable to overlook the Empire’s overall goal. The long-smoldering border disputes and territorial issues between the two have erupted into localized wars on multiple occasions in the past.
The chains binding the cornered Empire are beginning to loosen, and what if the master isn’t home because he’s out trying to pry them off? Fully aware of the gap between its own military strength and that of its potential enemy, the François Republic believed that it could not miss this opportunity.
Ironically, it did the exact opposite of the Empire, with its huge debate about whether or not to break from the existing military strategy. In the François Republic, they had no choice but to go on the offensive to ensure the effectiveness of their own strategy.
“I’ve also got a battalion-sized ground unit at one o’clock. Also, multiple unidentified aircraft are approaching fast.”
That’s how Tanya has ended up flying, forced to use this new orb she doesn’t even want, while facing swarms of incoming hostile mages.
“Lizard 08, roger. Take immediate evasive action.”
The relationship between the Empire and the François Republic is such that they both have a fairly good idea of the cards in each other’s hand. Naturally, the François Republic can predict that the Empire will confront the encirclement via interior lines. As a result, its defense strategy focuses tightly on how to defeat the interior lines strategy of its potential enemy.
The solution is quite simple. Before the Empire completes its large-scale mobilization, the Republic’s core standing army would storm and subdue the Empire’s western region, the source of a great deal of its industry and military power. That would drastically cut down the Empire’s war potential. The Republic’s strategy also includes taking action if the Empire invades a third nation.
Strictly speaking, the Republic’s position gives it no choice but to frame all its actions as responses to the Empire. If the leaders let the situation be, they would eventually have to contend with an Empire free of northeastern pressure. As such, they have to act now, while they can still gain the upper hand.
Oh, I get it. From a purely historical perspective, it’s possible to say the northern front will be decided in one blow. It would really only take a second. Anyone with common sense, even an amateur, could clearly see that the war is going to end soon.
The Entente Alliance’s resistance wouldn’t amount to anything, and it would be forced to surrender to the Empire. That snapshot of the future is too realistic for the analysis to be flawed, but a specialist would have told you it wasn’t quite right. A few months is a bit fast for a country to fall into ruin, but strategically, it’s also far too long to have your main forces tied up.
In a few weeks, mobilization would be complete, and the troops would be able to march in great numbers. Under those circumstances, an offensive would become a seductive option for the François Republic. It’s akin to the Empire’s conviction that it could use the Northern theater to break the fetters that had kept it bound to their defensive policy for years. The François Republic is equally confident that, with this one move, it can eliminate a significant threat that has been plaguing its fatherland’s national defense for so long.
The Empire is prioritizing victory in the Northern theater. In other words, the higher-ups are insisting this is a strategic decision… Really, they either foolishly failed to foresee this scenario, or it did occur to them and they underestimated the probability.
The war has been recklessly directed in the first place. The stupid radio stations and newspapers were celebrating the sweeping victory on the Northern theater with dreck like, “This is the Empire’s secret plan to avoid a multifront war, and the roar of artillery heralds the birth of a new order,” and now, thanks to the sudden attack, they’re slinging daily propaganda about the diabolical François Republic. But the people on the front lines don’t care about propaganda; that’s only good for making jokes about the brass to kill time in the trenches. They want to yell, If you can afford to broadcast propaganda all the way to the front, get more men and supplies over here. They’re the ones in trouble if the higher-ups keep arguing about causes and ideals instead of facing reality.
“It looks like the vanguard mages have spotted me. They’re still coming up fast.”
Reality is cruel but also simple. The forces in the Western theater are basically a punching bag until the main forces return. The Empire has reached the limit of its resources. The proof is the special deployment of the instructor squad from the forces at home and the evaluation unit that assesses the practicality of preproduction models.
Really, the instruction and research-oriented units are meant to improve the overall quality of the army from the rear, not to fight on the front. Sending them in is usually a taboo that only a nation nearing its end would violate. Of course, these units are universally skilled, which makes them great problem solvers. And that’s why, with the nation in a panic over the unexpected development, Tanya got thrown from a homefront research lab to the front lines.
“Lizard 08 to Hawkeye 03. We’ll send reinforcements immediately.”
“Hawkeye 03 to Lizard 08. I’d appreciate it, but I won’t hold my breath,” Tanya acknowledges as she promptly begins to withdraw. She’s allowed to run this time. No need to tough it out.
“Leaving this airspace.”
“Hawkeye 03, good luck!”
Out on the battlefield, incoming reinforcements might seem like a ray of hope, but I know all too well from both personal experience and history that more often than not, they don’t make it in time. It’s the epitome of stupidity to count on unreliable backup and risk one’s life with wishful thinking, so I give my undivided attention to retreating.
“Hawkeye 03, roger.”
The hand I’ve been dealt is discouraging, but I know I need to confront reality, even if it makes me reluctant enough to pull a face. The impatience and conflict in Tanya’s blue eyes resemble that of a philosopher yearning to explore the wisdom of mankind; the groan that slips from her adorable mouth in that immature voice, her indignation at the unfairness of the situation, embodies the innocence of a child.
“…Ugh…”
Tanya Degurechaff’s worries are quite simple. She’s angry that the duties dumped on her exceed her pay grade, and she’s distressed by her evil workplace that fails to comply with safety regulations. She would accept the existence of unions, and she wishes with all her heart for the creation of labor laws.
Part of the issue is my personal conflict with the army’s goal-oriented rationale. Armies generally supply aviation personnel with high-calorie diets as a means to relieve fatigue and maintain the concentration necessary for withstanding consecutive days
of intense combat, and that’s great. In the Empire, too, mages and pilots have to be provided high-calorie diets.
But I’m not so sure I want them to make me take Pervitin. And “hesitant” doesn’t even begin to describe how I feel about my orb as a trump card. The fruit of the collaboration between Being X and the mad scientist could poison my sharp mind in a manner far more insidious than any drug. Really, I should have gotten rid of it.
That’s how desperately I don’t want to use Type 95. I really hate the idea of relying on that damned computation orb steeped in the grace of God. But what if I need it to survive? Truly the ultimate choice.
This was supposed to be a day like any other for the 228th Reconnaissance Mage Company commanded by First Lieutenant Michel Hosman. The François Republic Army had successfully conducted a surprise attack, and this company was its forward-most advance guard. Even if the “surprise” was beginning to wear off in places and the mission was transitioning to assault, the spearhead’s duties didn’t change.
Crush the Imperial Army’s eyes as it attempts to recover from the chaos, and cut off their communications while you’re at it. Their duty was to isolate the enemy and prevent the formation of an organized line of resistance, which would help later troops widen the breach. It was the same assignment these veterans and First Lieutenant Hosman had received the previous day. Yet on a real battlefield, unlike in war films or novels, there was no foreshadowing what would come next.
“Golf 01 to CP. I’ve encountered an enemy sentinel.”
“CP, roger. We think it’s local direct support. Upon elimination, continue searching for the enemy’s main forces.”
Luck isn’t on this guy’s side. That was First Lieutenant Hosman’s impression. After all, this sentinel was up against a whole company of mages, and it was Hosman’s company, the vanguard for an entire army. It was obviously not a fair fight. That was why the enemy mage had been focused on running ever since detecting the company’s approach.