Deus lo Vult

by Carlo Zen

  You could propose that it might be possible to duplicate the results if they lost control of the mana and then adjusted accordingly…but that was a conclusion. It was impossible to make conclusions about these results. They simply couldn’t be duplicated. This was like seeing a lightning strike that just happened to carve a splendid sculpture and then trying to re-create it with human hands.

  “So the rampaging mana stabilized itself. Basically, it was a miraculous coincidence.”

  The fact that Chief Engineer Schugel noted in the experiment report “We owe our success to the power of God” showed the extent of that miracle. Something that was by all rights impossible had occurred, and it just happened to do so beyond the reach of human understanding.

  Even Chief Engineer Schugel, who created Type 95, had given up on continuing development, saying, “Going any further would be blasphemy, an insolent act in defiance of God.” Even the hard-core techies concluded that you probably had to be chosen by God or something to use that computation orb, which goes to show how hard it had to be.

  “So what does that mean?”

  “We’re currently using something we don’t understand without understanding it, and it hasn’t been easy.”

  In other words, that was about all they knew. Whether unraveling the principle behind the orb or reproducing it, a vast amount of time and effort would be required, and on top of that, their probability of success wasn’t worth betting on no matter how they calculated it.

  “It might be better to just glorify Lieutenant Degurechaff as a hero.”

  “…I agree. That could help us out in a bigger way.”

  Fortunately, Second Lieutenant Degurechaff had earned her Silver Wings Assault Badge at quite a young—frankly, tender—age. Praising her abilities for publicity would be much easier than trying to show off the flawed orb.

  CADET CORPS DORMITORY

  I, Viktoriya Ivanovna Serebryakov, am an early riser.

  “Visha! Get up, Visha!”

  “Urgh, morning, Elya.”

  Technically, that’s because my gorgeous friend always wakes me up. The ever-kind Elya is taller than me, and she has curves in all the right places even though she’s so thin. Not only that, but she also doesn’t get low blood pressure in the morning—she’s always full of pep.

  I’m only a centimeter shorter than her and just as slim! God is just so unfair. Elya and I have the same lifestyle, so I really don’t get why certain parts of her body are so much more developed than mine.

  Anyone fresh out of the Cadet Corps wants to stay sound asleep in their warm beds as long as they can. That’s because one of the only fun things about cadet school is staying up all night chatting with your dorm buddies. Elya is one of the girls who really loves it. I go to bed before her pretty often.

  But then she always gets up earlier. How does that make sense? I guess it’s just one of those differences between people. I can’t do anything about it no matter how hard I try.

  I probably sound like I hate my good-natured friend, but really, I don’t.

  In general, joining the Cadet Corps is voluntary, but anyone eligible to become a mage is basically forced to enlist and thrown into the fray. So this unlucky cadet was bound by the strictest rules and continually chewed out by demon drill sergeants. Of course I blamed God at the time, but I couldn’t stay mad when I’d met such a great friend.

  Sadly, my time with my good buddy is scheduled to end today. It hasn’t sunk in yet, but today, we’ll be assigned to our respective combat units. I hope we end up together, but that’s probably too much to hope for.

  It’s less like we’re wearing our uniforms and more like our uniforms are wearing us, but we’re still real soldiers. For whatever reason, fate gave us magical potential.

  And so, we’ve become Imperial Army mages, pride of the Reich. Well, technically, we’re newbies. Before I knew it, I was tossed into the dormitory of the Western Army Group as a reinforcement for the Rhine Front.

  My duty as a soldier is to serve indefatigably in the west as a shield for the beloved fatherland at this critical juncture…or something. I’m an imperial subject, too, I guess, so I do think maybe I should fight for my great country, but it doesn’t feel quite right. Maybe that’s only natural since I was born in lovely snow-white Moskva. Well, the hazy remnants of my memory are just a torrent of red, which isn’t very fun. My parents turned to relatives for help, we thankfully managed to escape the country, and that’s my story. I was too young to really remember much, but I might be lacking qualifications compared to imperial soldiers actually born here.

  That said, I’m so grateful to my aunt and uncle for taking me in. I’m second grateful to God for giving me my daily bread.

  “Let’s eat!”

  Our diet here is different from the rear, but I already got used to the less-than-fresh veggies and the canned goods you tend to find at the NCO mess halls near the front. On the first day, I cried because the food tasted about as awful as combat rations, but lately I’ve been enjoying it just fine.

  “Visha, did you hear that the platoon you’re assigned to is getting a new leader?”

  Mealtime is fun since we get to chat. Given the circumstances, it’s no wonder we’re interested in discussing our assignments.

  “Really? Isn’t this kind of a weird time to add a new platoon leader?”

  “It’s definitely true!”

  “Elya, calm down.”

  Of course, so much of the chatter is gossip. I heard that once you get to be a vet, you can catch wind of your own assignment and your buddies’, and I bet it’s true. But as you might imagine, mages fresh out of the Cadet Corps, mere NCOs, can’t tell right from left in the army.

  Still, I’m interested in my assignment, and my friend has an uncanny ability to overhear things.

  “But seriously? We’re supposed to be reinforcements. Would they really make a whole new platoon on the front lines?”

  “Logically, no, but this has to be true, Visha. I heard personnel officers talking about it!”

  I do wonder where Elya just happened to hear all this news. It isn’t like they’re elementary school teachers chatting about their classes; would officers from Personnel really discuss assignments in front of other people? …I shouldn’t overthink it.

  “Elya…sometimes I wonder if you’re a ninja from the Far East.”

  “Ha-ha-ha-ha-ha. A woman has her secrets, Miss Serebryakov.”

  “Well, whatever. So do you know where this new platoon will be deployed?”

  “Oh, so…it’s not a new platoon but a replacement for one that got wiped out. You’ll be okay, though. Supposedly the leader is a veteran with Silver Wings.”

  For a second, I don’t understand what she said. I’m normally easygoing, but when I come to my senses, I’m so shocked that I can’t help a knee-jerk reaction.

  “Silver Wings…? You mean the Silver Wings Assault Badge?!”

  “Wow, your eyes are like saucers.”

  “What?!”

  “Visha, your faces are always so funny.”

  I’ll have to thank her later for keeping her burst of laughter quiet so we don’t draw attention from the other diners. But wow, someone who is still alive got the Silver Wings Assault Badge… An awesome imperial soldier? More like an awesome human being.

  “You must know about your own assignment, too, right?”

  “Yup. I’ll be supporting the artillery as part of an observation squad. Of course, I’ll be making tea in the back!”

  “Hey…you never know what’ll happen if you’re not careful.”

  That said, the news that my friend will be somewhere safe makes me envious, but I’m still relieved.

  “Uh-oh, if we keep lollygagging like this, our time’ll be up. Chow down, Visha!”

  “Yeah, you’re right… Hey, where’d my caramel go?”

  “Oh, you hadn’t eaten it yet, so I helped you.”

  Yes, this maddening mischief maker is my precious friend.

>   (A FEW DAYS EARLIER) IMPERIAL CAPITAL

  “Reassignment?”

  I’m being transferred away from the technology research department and from being treated like a guinea pig as the dedicated tester of the Type 95 computation orb. Magic Second Lieutenant Tanya Degurechaff has longed for this notice—waiting out days that felt like years—and is pleased as punch to accept. Her application must have finally, finally been approved. My mind will be freed. I’ll leave this place and head to the new posting immediately.

  “Yes, a reassignment. Guess the brass isn’t about to let an ace just hang around. You’re going to be leader of Third Platoon in the 205th Assault Mage Company.”

  Considering resources are so low that even the instructor unit has to join the battle, there’s nothing I can do about ending up on the front lines. Actually, as someone fresh out of the academy, leading a platoon, even in the thick of battle, is much better than getting abused as a guinea pig.

  Finally, I’ll apparently have subordinates. Now I can delegate tasks I would have had to handle alone in the past. And in the worst-case scenario, although I’d lose favor with the higher-ups, using them as human shields is a possibility. I mostly hope they aren’t incompetent, but either way, this is cause for celebration.

  “And congratulations, Lieutenant. It’s not much compared to the Silver Wings, but in recognition of your recent achievements, we have decided to award you the Aerial Assault Badge.”

  “Thank you, sir.” Tanya gives a cheerful salute and a smile that makes her look like the little girl she is.

  In high spirits, I return to the dormitory and set about packing luggage. Of course, soldiers don’t have many personal belongings to begin with. Even though she’s biologically female, Tanya feels that clean and neat is good enough for clothes. In fact, her uniforms are the only clothing she has. Since none of the existing sizes fit, she just has to apply for a clothing allowance and get them made to order.

  It takes less than an hour to pack my officer travel bag. I briskly tell the manager of the dormitory, where I was staying during my temporary assignment, about the transfer; show him my orders; and thank him for taking care of me while I lived there. With that, my moving preparations are complete.

  Then I head straight for my designated unit. These are frontline orders. They require me to forgo annoying social obligations like farewell parties and take up my position as quickly as possible. Hence, after receiving permission to fly from the Air Defense Identification Zone, I immediately take my bag and race across the sky toward the assigned rendezvous point.

  Fortunately, though the army is facing a crisis, this is still only moving between bases in the rear. The short flight ends without incident, and less than two hours after my departure, I arrive and present myself to my new company commander.

  “Magic Second Lieutenant Tanya Degurechaff, leader of Third Platoon of the 205th Assault Mage Company, reporting for duty.”

  “Thanks for coming, Lieutenant. First, allow me to welcome you. I am company commander, First Lieutenant Ihlen Schwarkopf.” He confirms that I’ve arrived as ordered and completes assignment procedures as he welcomes me. While keeping things businesslike in adherence to military regulations, we casually appraise each other. We’re both soldiers, and soldiers don’t get to choose their allies. Thus, it’s logical to assume that they won’t last long on the battlefield if they don’t at least get to know each other.

  “Commander Schwarkopf, sir, pleased to be serving under you.”

  “Great. Let’s get to it, Lieutenant Degurechaff. Do you have any experience leading a platoon?”

  One thing that makes Tanya happy at a glance is that her commanding officer appears to be an extremely orthodox mage. He is a first lieutenant. Judging from his age, he has probably served a decent amount of time. And from the medals he’s wearing, it’s easy to gather that he has a wealth of combat experience.

  The decorations commending his participation in several minor conflicts, especially, provide a certain level of assurance. So my first impression is that he isn’t an inept superior, which would be scarier than the enemy. Since I can’t choose my commanding officer, if he ends up being like the legendary soldier who ruined the Burma-Imphal front, I may decide to take action and mourn the ensuing “unfortunate accident.”

  “This will be my first time, sir.”

  Schwarkopf is also observing Degurechaff. He can’t deny being a bit puzzled to see a little girl appear before his desk in the company command office. All he has heard from above is that they would send him a mage from an instructor unit at Central who has combat experience on the northern front.

  Schwarkopf figured they would give him a seasoned veteran. It’s safe to assume that a second lieutenant from an instructor unit would have worked up from noncommissioned officer status, and a veteran should be reliable in any situation. Plus, as a recipient of the Silver Wings Assault Badge, whoever the brass sent would have to be a capable soldier with a wealth of combat experience. That’s why when Schwarkopf laid eyes on this kid younger than his daughter announcing her arrival with a perfect salute, he wonders what he’ll do with the difficult platoon. His original intent to give her the command had relied on his expectation that she would be a veteran…

  “…Lieutenant, I’ll be frank.”

  If the records don’t lie and there isn’t any mistake, the second lieutenant waiting at attention for him to speak is a significant asset who has splendidly distinguished herself in battle, and she had been dispatched to deal with the worsening situation on the western front. But being a great athlete is different from being a great coach, and Schwarkopf fears this situation is similar.

  “The 205th Assault Mage Company is meant to have three platoons, but during the early days of the war, our numbers dropped to less than two, and we’ve been operating undermanned ever since.”

  To replace the lost men, a new platoon leader and fresh members have been assigned to the company. Schwarkopf knows he can’t complain, even if every member of the platoon is a raw recruit, but that’s precisely why he hoped the leader would be an experienced veteran.

  “…Can you command a platoon of recruits straight out of the Cadet Corps?”

  To cast the situation as it currently stands in a pessimistic light, the platoon will consist of a child leading greenhorns. It would be not only ineffective but also deadweight—worse than deadweight. Needless to say, if the Empire’s forces could simultaneously babysit and wage war, they wouldn’t be having such a hard time.

  He asks the question partially out of doubt; whether an immediate change in personnel is necessary or not will depend on her answer.

  Degurechaff’s response is simple. “Please give me the order.” She keeps her reply short and speaks in an even, matter-of-fact tone. Yet her eyes shine back at Schwarkopf with nearly arrogant pride, rejecting his misgivings about her ability. “I will give you results.”

  Her reply also shows her unfaltering self-confidence. It surpasses his expectations. The first step toward trust is believing that if this combat veteran says, “Give me the order,” the order will be carried out.

  “Well, you’ve got the Silver Wings Assault Badge. I’m expecting a lot out of you!”

  “Yes, sir!”

  A living recipient of the Silver Wings Assault Badge from the instructor unit is worthy of that much trust.

  Tanya, for her part, surmises that Schwarkopf only accepted her response because of the decoration she’s wearing. In other words, the entire worth of Second Lieutenant Tanya Degurechaff can be summed up by the badge.

  In that sense, she’s truly grateful to have received the Silver Wings. Apart from the “White Silver” moniker that comes with it (which I never wanted in the first place and am more than eager to get rid of), and the sanity checks it forces onto me, nothing about my current situation is harmful, and I have a good reputation.

  Well, I should probably welcome this. Beneath the face of a soldier, Tanya is calculating. Goodwill and
praise are better than hostility and insult, at least.

  “All right. I’ll go ahead and explain the situation.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Having gotten more or less good impressions, they decide for the present to trust each other enough that they can focus on their respective jobs. Next, it’s time for work.

  “As you know, the Great Army’s main forces are urgently being reorganized and assembled.”

  The Empire has fallen into disorder in the immediate aftermath of the François Republic’s surprise attack, but overall, it mostly held its own in the early battles. That doesn’t change the fact that the troops are under pressure, but the national defense policy calls for interior lines strategy. In that sense, though it’s true the Western Army Group has received reinforcements from remaining units at Central, they have completely fulfilled their duty of delaying the enemy.

  “While that is the case…it will take some time to reach the western front.”

  There’s only one problem: The reserves and standing troops, who are supposed to be the counterblow, have all been invested in the north. The top General Staff members wanted to resolve the Norden issue with one push, but the original national defense plan is falling apart.

  “All the Western Army Group can do is hope they arrive soon, but we have to assume it will take a while.”

  Originally, the plan called for Central to send three divisions within twenty-four hours of mobilization orders, including one Imperial Guard division as vanguard, and within seventy-two hours, seven more divisions to follow. Within a week or so, the Great Army itself would invest an overwhelming force—twenty divisions of their dignified regular troops and enough reserves for sixty divisions.

  That’s why the Western Army Group never imagined a need to slow down the enemy on their own for a month. And of course, since they don’t have the reinforcements from the plan, even if they only fight to delay, they’ll have to do it in a way that minimizes their casualties.

  The only plan the Western Army Group has prepared is a defensive battle limited to large-scale resistance.