CHAPTER - IV

JANUARY 7, UNIFIED YEAR 1928, THE FEDERATION

In preparing for Operation Rising Dawn, Federation officials had racked their brains trying to come up with ways to "somehow neutralize the Empire's defensive strategies." The main issue that presented itself was the "stronghold," or "strongpoint," tactics the Empire practiced.

Based on the assumption that breakthroughs could and would occur, rather than attempt to preserve the breached defensive line, the stronghold method instead focused on having units stationed along the line hold positions constructed in advance. Naturally, hunkering down in a strategic position near the front, after their line had been broken, meant being surrounded. But the imperials were willing to resign themselves to that as necessary.

A change in perspective. Instead of thinking of it as being surrounded, why not think of it as an opportunity to tie the enemy down?

In other words, all they needed to do was hold out until reinforcements came to relieve them. In a way, it was like being under siege. Strongpoints might seem like a last resort measure on the part of the Empire, since it didn't possess the reserves necessary for elastic defense across all fronts. However, it was in fact highly troubling, as ignoring the strongholds and advancing would result in being threatened from the rear. If instead they played into the enemy's hand, they would become bogged down in attacking fortified positions. The Federation had been tearing their hair out, trying to figure out a way to quickly neutralize an enemy who had hunkered down in this way.

Even if their defensive line was weak in places, with fortified positions

such as these, it was relatively durable. Close attacks with infantry would swell casualties, and even heavy artillery would require significant time and steel while the supply situation remained uncertain. And if they dawdled, the Imperial Army, vicious as that charlatan Zettour, was sure to counterattack.

Thus, although neutralizing these strongpoints was a major issue… General Kutuz, who had taken the lead in the formulation of Rising Dawn, had found a simple solution. One that didn't require engaging.

If the Empire's field army could threaten units that broke through—i.e. the advancing first echelon and their logistic routes—all that needed to be done was to have separate units ready, apart from the first echelon, to bottle up the enemy inside their own strongholds.

In other words, two separate forces. One for advancing, and one for encircling the enemy. An Egg of Columbus solution. Comprehensive deployment of a massive force in the correct way and with appropriate timing. That was all it took for Operation Rising Dawn to become the key to crushing the Imperial defenses that had proven so resilient.

General Kutuz's style may not have been the most inventive, but his initiatives were backed by strong logic that firmly married theory with reality and endeavored to be immune to any artful trickery.

The Federation, however, was a nation of ideas.

In response to the suggestion that a problem could just be dealt with later, there was the suggestion: "But what if we could deal with it immediately instead?" And the next question after that was "And how do we make that happen?"

In other words, if they could just pave over the enemy's strongpoints instead, it'd be even better.

As ideas went, the concept was clear. The answer was that they would need "a can opener capable of opening up enemy fortifications." The next response? "Well then, let's invent the necessary can opener."

The research soon followed.

In the process, their attention was drawn to Imperial tactics. Namely, the practice of mages moving via tank desant.

Originally, they thought it was simply a way to hide mana signatures during movements, for the sake of surprise, but the Federation discovered another advantage that not even the original implementors, the Imperial

Army, were aware of. That is to say, the use of such tactics as a revolutionary method for attacking strongpoints.

When attacking a strongpoint with an armored unit, if the mechanized unit was to be formed entirely with magical aptitude, they discovered it would theoretically be possible to conquer these points using infantry that were both armored and yet mobile.

Of course, scraping together a whole brigade with magical aptitude would be difficult, so as a test…the 1st Mechanized Mage Experimental Regiment went into the field with the hope that they could serve as that can opener.

General Kutuz's honest opinion was that they should just leave the encircled troops be, but being sensitive to internal matters of balance, he knew better than to share such a pointless opinion. After all, he could see that the party was already on board. And he was well aware of what happened when you opposed plans that higher-ups had taken a liking to.

If the plan you opposed succeeded, that would naturally result in losing face. But that was actually the better outcome. What would really be terrible is for the plan you opposed to fail. The higher-ups would see that as your smugly foretelling their downfall. Nothing could be worse.

Using your specialist position to flatly reject each and every one of the relatively harmless notions of the amateurs was like reserving a one-way ticket to the gulags. Moderately opposing only the truly disastrous notions was more than enough. Or at least, that was General Kutuz's approach.

Thus, the 1st Mechanized Mage Experimental Regiment, which had captured both the interest and approval of the party center, soon appeared on the eastern front.

New, ambitious, and inventive. An arrangement that might have easily become the de facto standard. However…

…that day, immediately before the start of Rising Dawn, something highly unfortunate occurred.

A lizard appeared in the Federation's path. One that breathed fire. Its name: Salamander—the fire-breathing pride of the Empire.

After increasing his altitude and briefly searching for the enemy, First

Lieutenant Grantz returns, a look of surprise on his face. Flying abreast of Tanya, he reports what he has found.

"I sensed something straight ahead! It's weak, but it matches our projected target location. Position has been acquired!"

"You sensed them? From this distance?! You're sure?"

"It's the area that was reported! I'm pretty sure it must be them!"

For our own part, we were avoiding using even radio. Considering how careful we were not to give ourselves away, I assumed the enemy would take at least as much care.

I hesitate for a moment, and then make up my mind.

As much as I hate to repeatedly leak our mana signal just to scout, I purposely fly up abruptly, gaining altitude and orienting myself toward the suspicious region in question, searching for any signatures in the area, just to be safe.

"Unbelievable."

I sense it straight ahead. There is no other word to describe it. A mana signature. Honestly, the fact that we can pick it up at this distance… For me, who is ever conscious of keeping my signal as hidden as possible and who is constantly crawling at low altitudes to avoid emitting a powerful flight formula signature, the idea of leaking such a massive signature, like the enemy is doing now, is completely alien.

Unless this is some sort of strategy on their part, the enemy is being woefully happy-go-lucky.

"Major Weiss! You search as well, just to be sure!"

"Roger," Major Weiss responds in admirable fashion, immediately gaining altitude. Hmm? His face shows surprise. And then Huh? A look of worry. No way, he seems to mutter as he descends once more.

"I sensed them, just as Lieutenant Grantz reported." "I can't believe you both doubted me! How rude!"

"Sorry!" I shout back to First Lieutenant Grantz, before turning to ask Weiss a question. "What do you think, Major? Any ideas?"

"I find it hard to believe the enemy could be this bad at covering their magic… Maybe they're trying to lure us out?"

Hmm? I furrow my eyebrows in response. As with the Type 105s, Major Weiss has continually proven himself to be an idea man. If a possibility occurs to him that I've missed, it would behoove me to hear him out.

"Hold on, Major! You mean you think it could be a diversion, a trap, deception?!"

"They're just so exposed!"

Hmph. Tanya folds her arms. During yesterday's officer recon, as well, she seriously considered the possibility that the mana signal they'd picked up had been a trap. That turned out not be the case…but there's no guarantee this time might not be different. Underestimating your enemy is a dangerous mistake.

"What's the saying…? Pride cometh?"

Underestimating the enemy isn't just a mistake; it's a bold first step down a steep slope. I'd rather not stumble headfirst into enemy crosshairs just because I overestimated my own skills or the proficiency of my troops.

Caution—the ability to imagine the worst, even to the point of cowardice—is an admirable trait.

"Major Weiss, wait a second! I'll double-check!"

Honestly, I do not like repeatedly gaining altitude like this. When you stare into the abyss, the abyss also… Well no, I guess that doesn't really apply here. But if we can pick up their mana signal, then we can assume they can probably pick ours up as well.

If we're hoping to surprise them, it would obviously be better to leave them be. But I'd rather we wind up doing a shock attack than stick our heads into a trap. I climb and search for a signal in the distance once more.

Although it is far, there undoubtedly appears to be a signal leaking. It is a proper signal, not like what they got from the Type 105s or those piss- poor Federation mages from before.

A leaking signal, plain and simple. There is no other way to describe it.

"Yes… There doesn't seem to be any explanation for it other than that they are amateurs."

Or if it is a trap, that would also make sense. It isn't entirely impossible that they might be leaking their signal on purpose. As I lower my altitude and rejoin ranks, Major Weiss is waiting with a questioning look on his face. He flies abreast without speaking, but I know what he is thinking. I just shrug.

"So you think it is a decoy?"

In response, Major Weiss nods emphatically.

"We did the same thing in Ildoa! Lured the enemy out by pretending to

be rookies and then ambushed them!"

I grimace, remembering they had, in fact, done something similar back in Ildoa when hunting that Unified States mage regiment. Would the enemy do the same? It is good that her men have a healthy sense of caution. But I've noticed before that Major Weiss can sometimes be sensible, or perhaps pessimistic, in misplaced ways, and he has a habit of overestimating the enemy.

"If they were trying to lure us out, I doubt they would let us know they're combat ready by going through the trouble of putting up defensive shells."

Exactly. The enemy's mana signature would be too shabby as camouflage or a decoy. If they just failed to cover their magic and accidentally revealed their location, that might be one thing, but as decoys go, leaking a signal showing themselves to be combat ready doesn't seem particularly well-thought-out.

Naturally, that could all be more deception to lure us like a moth to the flame. Intentionally meant to confound our judgment. It's not impossible.

However…

"If it was a decoy, what would it even be a decoy for in the first place?" I say with conviction, almost certain by this point.

As with Operation Bolo, which the US Air Force carried out in Vietnam, the strategy of disguising your forces as something else to lure out an enemy is not unheard of. But in general, such tactics are for luring out a target enemy as part of a cunning game of cat and mouse, using sophisticated camouflage.

"What are you arguing? That this amateur mana signature is a disguise for just a mere skirmish?"

"The Federation Army are not amateurs. They are extremely dangerous."

"I agree entirely. The Federation army are not amateurs and are extremely dangerous. But that is the Federation Army as a whole. When it comes to the quality of their mage units, there is little room for dispute."

Our encounter with those mages from the other day, who didn't even have shells, made that exceptionally clear. As an organization, the Federation Army may be fearsome, but at the individual level, they are often frail.

However, Major Weiss, who usually does not challenge Tanya's words to such a degree, seems to have become a staunch figure of opposition today.

"Lieutenant Colonel, failing to respect our enemies is dangerous. They are a mechanized unit, and not just a regiment—a whole brigade. And based on signal alone, the mages appear to be a battalion as well. If it is a trap, we'll be flying straight into the lion's mouth."

I furrow my brow as my subordinate speaks, his face serious and anxious. It is precisely because I rate him so highly as a soldier that I'm confounded to see such a difference of opinion at such a crucial moment.

"Don't you see? Overestimating the enemy is just as dangerous.

Something that can only lead to lost opportunities for victory."

"I understand what you are saying, Colonel—very well. But something about this theater seems strange to me…"

"The east always smells suspicious. I agree with you wholeheartedly in that regard."

But this time is different. The Federation Army's cunning, their exquisite intricacy as an instrument of violence, is more often at the strategic rather than the tactical level.

"Putting aside tactical and strategic cunning, to do something this exposed and obvious at the tactical level? I don't the Federation is the type for such shabby camouflage."

"On principle, that is absolutely correct, but…"

"Either way, once we take a pass, we'll know for sure. If there is a trap, then we'll just have to gnaw our way through."

As the rambling conversation carries on, I'm keenly reminded once more of the ills of being shuttled about in such a hectic fashion, deploying first to Ildoa, and then the capital, and now back to the east.

After fighting on the front lines for a certain period of time, you need time to fall back and regroup. In the end, even the most powerful unit is just an assembly of individuals. Once their energy wanes, vital combat strength will be lost.

For those who say a unit is strongest when it's always fighting, maybe they should try facing an equal foe head-on for themselves, one that is well rested, after they themselves have already fought for ninety hours without sleep or rest. The respectable unit is usually the one that has been shored up

with the proper rest and training. And the 203rd, what is essentially Tanya's own child, is no exception, as lamentable as it is.

The same is true for this difference of opinion with Major Weiss. What's needed is some proper time in the rear, adjusting, before deployment to the battlefield.

"On the surface, things appear okay, but deep down, the roots have rotted much more than they appear…"

"Colonel? What do you mean?"

"Don't worry, it's nothing, Major Weiss. Please prepare for battle." Major Weiss nods but looks puzzled.

Tanya, of course, is aware that the command was unnecessary. For aerial mages, preparing for battle is simple and clear. In the worst-case scenario, all they need is their orbs, their rifles, and some formulas.

However. As an expert in magical warfare, Tanya adds one more point.

The truly crucial point when it comes to mages is implementation.

Maximum effort on the battlefield, rooted in familiarity with specs and careful consideration of the expected environment, is indispensable.

"Sorry, I mean mental preparation."

"Ahh," Tanya continues. "You are too serious, Major. You make things too complicated, you know that?"

"This again…?"

"Instead of seeing malice in every shadow, what if sometimes the enemy is just incompetent? Above all else, we must never forget the big picture."

Conversation finished, they continue flying. Before long, the distance has shrunk enough to pick up the enemy's signal even while at a low altitude. That is where the enemy is, make no mistake about it. The fact that we can detect the enemy's mana signature vaguely now, without even searching, means we must be in close proximity.

As they approach, the 203rd Aerial Mage Battalion naturally begins to increase altitude, flying in pairs, with the prospect of air-to-air combat on their minds. It has become a habit. Mages, by their nature, hate to get pinned down from above.

Even well-trained mages tend to think of contour flight paths as something only driven by necessity. When in contact with an enemy, in the end, even I prefer to gain altitude whenever possible. No reason to pull back on their reins now.

"Moving in. Maintain speed and course, and climb to six thousand in preparation for combat."

The battalion responds with striking speed.

"Climb to six thousand and maintain both course and speed! And stay in formation!"

Repeating the orders, there is no disarray in their ranks as they rise. Not a thread is out of place when it comes to combat maneuvers. Speed, spacing, and most crucial of all, coordination, all thoroughly maintained.

As they gain altitude, however, a vague thrill begins to take hold.

"Keep your magic under wraps as much as possible. But prioritize detection of the enemy."

"Roger," comes the admirable response.

All that is left now is to identify a good point for entering combat as they continue to scout the enemy situation…or at least, that is how the process would usually go. This time, however, circumstances are somewhat different. Or rather, strangely enough, there does not seem to be any need to go out of our way to detect the enemy's situation.

First Lieutenant Grantz, who is positioned slightly ahead as if to advance, shrugs as if exasperated, the usual tension of battle absent.

"It certainly makes our jobs easy when the enemy leaks their signal this clearly."

Tanya furrows her brow slightly, realizing that most of the battalion are nodding in agreement with Grantz. Accurately assessing the enemy is good, but there is a fine line between mocking their weakness and carelessness.

I hesitate whether to correct him, but officers have their own face to maintain, and besides, in terms of order, a commander must think carefully before purposely scolding a first lieutenant in public immediately before battle.

Tanya is still wondering whether to say anything once they get back, when the problem is taken out of her hands by Major Weiss, who responds to her hesitation immediately. To my surprise, he flies forward quickly, casually speaking to First Lieutenant Grantz in an almost joking manner.

"Wise men learn from the faults of others, Grantz." As Grantz's face grows tense, Weiss nods, delivering the appropriate caution there on the spot. "Let's focus on keeping our own magic under wraps. It's important we play it safe."

Weiss noticed the problem and handled it on the spot. All while effortlessly preserving the first lieutenant's face. And rather than grow defensive at being rebuked in this way, Grantz nods in response, appearing to take the correction in humble fashion.

"Roger that, Major Weiss!"

Similarly, Grantz's somewhat mischievous response does much to dispel the tension of the moment. He shows no sign of shrinking or feeling resentment at being corrected. This is the meaning of a positive atmosphere. Tanya quietly adds good personal skills to her mental appraisal of Major Weiss.

Not to brag, but as a superior officer who always takes special care of my staff, he must have learned that from watching me. Seeing your employees grow is an amazing feeling. After all, as the one in charge of their education, as they grow, my value and security grow as well. And as a professional, it is always pleasant to catch a glimpse of one's own professional hand at work and to bathe in the open air of communication that has been fostered in a department you lead.

While Tanya's breast continues to swell with pride over this new discovery, however, she also mulls over the current situation. Apparently, we don't need to scout the enemy's situation. But do we have enough breathing room, then, to widen the scope and scout for other enemies? Yes, likely. But should we also consider the possibility that, under the circumstances, such efforts would be wasted?

Yes, they would almost certainly be so.

Still, there is something to say for the cautious view. Major Weiss only just suggested it, after all. Tanya decides that emphasizing safety is the consistent approach in this instance.

"Major Weiss, change of plans! Let's search for enemies!" "Huh? What do you mean?!"

"I'm taking your opinion under advisement, Major. Let's consider the possibility that the enemy could have other troops waiting in ambush! I know we're on the verge of conducting a strike, but let's scout the area first!"

A look of pleasure appears on Major Weiss's face at hearing that Tanya has taken his worries on board.

"Thank you!" he says with an artful salute.

"Not at all," Tanya says, waving her hand. Since we've already located our target and have the breathing room for an assault instead of a surprise attack, extra caution is within acceptable costs.

Sometimes, the difference between putting off operations too long in search of information and thus missing out on chances for victory, on the one hand, and enduring the cost time to appropriately grasp information about the enemy, on the other, can be paper-thin. But we can certainly manage a quick scan of the surroundings.

As we are three companies, we disperse into three groups and begin scouting the area near where the enemy brigade has already been confirmed. Assuming the enemy may be attempting an ambush, we even look for surface camouflage such as what First Lieutenant Tospan has pulled off. Working in small groups, we pour over the surface with our eyes, with some of the soldiers even alighting onto the snow to look around. By the time an all clear has been given, some have gone so far as to dig into the snow, thinking a whole unbroken field of snow might be a disguise.

In the end, it all turns out to be for nothing.

There are literally no enemies waiting in ambush. The whole battalion just spent its time fumbling about in the snow for no reason. The conclusion is clear. There is absolutely zero possibility that the enemy has laid a devious trap for us.

Major Weiss is the serious type. After advocating for caution, he likely feels mortified. At the moment, his face appears so stern that even I sympathize.

While we are assembling once more, Major Weiss suddenly bows his head, a look on his face as if he just can't hold back any longer.

"I'm just… I'm sorry."

The measure of any boss truly shows in those moments when they are apologized to by a subordinate. That's what I think. If that subordinate bungled something or took an inappropriate action, then it should be dealt with accordingly. But if the action was reasonable and could be justified according to what was foreseeable, and if she herself had previously agreed with that reasoning, Tanya could hardly sanction shifting blame to that employee based solely on outcome.

"Don't be ridiculous, Major." "But all that effort…"

"I was the one who decided to scout the area. You are not responsible for mistaking the situation. Your opinion was reasonable. It was I who decided to adopt your opinion; I am the one who is responsible. It was not your fault. Do you understand?"

It is true elsewhere as it is in the army, but when authority is powerful, one must take special care to avoid unnecessarily demoralizing one's subordinates. Nothing could be worse than surrounding oneself with yes- men.

"Humility is a virtue in my opinion, but instead of wasting your time apologizing to me over nonsense like this, I'd rather you go out there, get some results, and then strut around all full of yourself."

Having finished motivating Weiss, Tanya mobilizes the unit toward their target, closing the distance as they prepare to attack.

Tanya would have almost preferred to get a response from the enemy. There is none, however. They seem to be completely oblivious. Maybe the mana signature is too close, causing their enemy's seeking capabilities not to function correctly?

The enemy is inactive either way. And there are no signs of reinforcements nearby. The initiative remains in our court, and we are in position to attack at any time. We had already been preparing for an assault before searching the area, so we are in ideal formation.

After preparations are in order, Tanya reaches for her long-range radio. "This is Salamander 01 to HQ, please acknowledge."

"This is HQ, reading loud and clear," the voice on the other end of the line says, acknowledging receipt.

It must be nice to sit in the rear taking calls. With a twinge of envy, Tanya begins to describe the scene before her.

"Regarding the matter forwarded by eastern forces, Salamander 01 has confirmed what appears to be a brigade, not a regiment, of mechanized mages."

"Salamander 01, we are not able to detect an enemy mage unit signal from here. Please report on enemy situation."

Hmm? I begin to feel doubtful. We are not that far from front lines, and the enemy is leaking their signal as plain as day, but the control center can't detect them? With the superior equipment they supposedly have? Tanya breaks out into a cold sweat, worried they may have mistaken their target.

She immediately requests confirmation.

"HQ, please confirm our location. Are we in the correct location?" "Salamander 01, we are picking up your signal. Enemy mage signature

in your current area is not clear."

Ah. Maybe Control just lacks the skill. That could explain it. "When you say 'not clear'…are there bogeys?"

"There is too much noise for a clear determination. Salamander 01, please report on enemy situation."

"Roger," Tanya says, answering the HQ controller. Internally, I curse the officer for their incompetence, but naturally, my sense of professional self- control prevents me from saying that part out loud.

"Visual confirmation is still in progress. As expected, enemy is a mechanized unit of brigade size at most. Judging from mana signature, they may be accompanied by a company of what appear to be mages. This is the enemy force in question, correct?"

"HQ confirms. Is removal possible?" the person on the other end says.

Tanya's ears don't grasp the meaning of what he has said.

"Salamander 01 to HQ. Your previous question was unclear. 'Is removal possible?' Please clarify."

"This is HQ to Salamander 01. Can your unit attempt an attack against the bandit without additional support? If a lone attack is possible, please proceed."

Tanya can't help but blanch at the controller's question. Is an unsupported attack possible? What in the hell is that supposed to mean?! I doubt my ears. General Staff sent us here to attack the unit, then Eastern Command requested the same, and now some controller sitting on their ass back at Command has the nerve to ask if we can handle such a big job all by our widdle selves?!

Do they have no idea what kind of unit I lead?

"Salamander 01 to HQ. Officer, how long have you served?" "Huh?"

"I get the feeling you're a rookie. You should watch how you talk about me and my troops," she says, admonishing the controller with a huff and a sigh.

Selling oneself short is unacceptable. Skills must be demonstrated. A good company man must always deliver a clear message in regard to their

skills and act in a way that avoids inappropriate undervaluation. "My unit are not amateurs."

"H…huh…?"

Tanya sighs again, seeing that the foolish rookie still doesn't understand. Once upon a time, the Empire was full of control staff who were professional and expected professional work. Diligent and faithful. The notion of something like this would have been unthinkable. But now? To think that the day would come when Tanya would doubt a controller's very

intelligence!

Unbelievable. The way things are going, Tanya feels like she might scream, but she manages to rein in her fury. Sucking her teeth, she forces herself to speak to the controller as if he is simple.

"Listen. Of all the… Of all the notions. For some rookie, who can't even fly, to question whether we, elite mages, who have survived aerial battles even in the west, can handle an attack on our own?"

We have battled giants. Sacrificed blood, sweat, and tears to overcome, to compensate for, and to create parity in the face of unbelievable odds.

The Imperial mage division's motto may as well be attack on sight. In her very first battle, Tanya and many others were ordered to delay a full company. The controller on the radio gave the order without even batting an eye.

Naturally, retreat is permitted when necessary…but after so many years of being expected to be the Empire's vicious hound, forever aggressive and daring, it is infuriating to suddenly be asked, Little doggy, do you think you can bark?

Absolutely absurd.

"Prepare to see for yourself. We are the spearhead. We are the perfect instrument of violence!"

I will not allow our many achievements to be diminished. Evaluations must be accurate. No common whelp who doesn't even know the meaning of the word achievement is going to worry about us.

Reliability and achievements must be taken seriously. Tanya's unshakable opinion—her conviction, her pride as a good and ordinary citizen living in the merit-based economy—demands it. As someone who prides myself on being kind and upright, this is the minimum for humans who engage in business with other humans.

To be ridiculed like this on the battlefield? Is there no justice, no credit where credit is due?!

"Just the other day, we broke through AA fire from the Unified States in Ildoa. We were reared in battle; the enemy's screams were our lullabies! And you think these stumbling fledglings will give us trouble? You honestly believe that horseshit?!"

Tanya pauses for a beat and then hisses mockingly.

"What a laugh! The first real knee-slapper of the new year! You must think we're a joke! But allow me to deliver a correction now in blood and steel."

"A…correction…?"

"Yes, we will physically remove the cause of one of Command's headaches for you by force. I expect to see extra rations as an apology. Salamander 01, out."

With that, I sign off, having failed rather spectacularly to control my temper. I must have made quite a scene. Major Weiss, who ought to have been waiting quietly by her side, ventures reluctantly to speak, a look of hesitation on his face.

"What did Command say, Colonel?" he asks, looking worried. Tanya shrugs and laughs, as if to indicate it is nothing.

"Eastern Command's fine young controller appears to be worried over whether we can make an attempt against the enemy."

"Attempt…?"

"Yes, Major. They are worried for us. Over our fitness for engaging the enemy. It seems they do not think very highly of us at all. Unbelievable," Tanya says, narrowing her eyes and pointing toward the enemy. "Against that! Disgraceful!"

Major Weiss blinks twice, cocks his head, and deftly arches his brows before turning his binoculars toward the enemy to whom Tanya is pointing.

"Against that?"

"Yes, against that, Major."

"You've got to be kidding," Major Weiss says, removing the binoculars from in front his face and squinting. A heavily equipped Federation column awaits below. In terms of size, they look to be a brigade at most.

As far as can be seen, this ground force appears to be of moderate skill, at least. Their attention to disguise is decent, and despite marching through

snow, their ranks remain in surprisingly good order. The spacing between units is also within acceptable standards. As simple, mechanized infantry go, they are of a decent level. An impression, however, that is completely ruined by their accompanying mage unit.

Their leaking mana signal has completely ruined the mechanized unit's attempts at camouflage. On top of that, they have exposed the locations of the commander, communications, and other high-value targets, which of course suggests that the mechanized unit lacks sufficient experience in combining with mage units.

This is a classic example of two powerful forces being combined to create synergy, but instead, they hold the other back and lead to a decrease in their value or total force.

"They make for tempting prey. I want to just eat them up. Even if I thought they were a decoy, I'd have to actually see a hunter in their midst before I would pass up on such easy pickings."

The Federation unit is practically a sitting duck. Definitely not the type of enemy that a fine warrior would be proud to face. However, prey is prey. In the end, rather than valor and glory and battles to the death against grand and imposing enemies, I would much rather wipe the floor with easy pickings.

This is war, after all. If I'm going to risk my life, I'd prefer it be easy. "Major Weiss, prepare for a ground attack. Let's take out the enemy

mages from above before they can get to interception altitude."

Tanya quickly relates the usual preparations. Waiting for a response, she turns her eyes toward Major Weiss, who looks slightly perplexed.

"Major Weiss? What's wrong?"

I notice Major Weiss staring off into space as he flies, as if his mind is somewhere else. After a moment, Tanya seems to understand.

"Hello? Major Weiss? I get that you're shocked over what that controller said, but come back to us," Tanya says, trying to snap her distracted subordinate out of it.

"E…excuse me. It was just so unexpected. What were you saying…?

Take them out from above while keeping our magic completely covered?" "That is not what I said."

"So then an air raid, like standard aerial mages? A one-sided ground strike?"

"Yes. What good are aerial mages if they don't fly, Major? I want to see a classic, textbook ground strike. Finish off the mages before they can take off. They're sitting ducks, remember?"

"Understood! They're still living in two dimensions. Let's introduce them to the three-dimensional age!"

Though Major Weiss's statement is impudent, it is eminently reasonable. Pure professionals, the 203rd Aerial Mage Battalion begins maneuvering at full speed, prepared to educate these amateurs. The enemy does not detect us until just moments before contact, allowing us to strike the Federation Army unit from above in what is fortunately almost a complete surprise attack.

For practical purposes, the battle has been decided. Altitude is everything. Any enemy mages who attempt to lift off from the ground will be easy marks. And with no environmental cover, those who flee in confusion on the ground will be shot like dogs from above instead, one after another. The outcome is already settled.

"The battle is ours."

I ready myself. It is now or never for the enemy. They should be lifting off any moment now…any moment now…

"Huh?"

Without thinking, Tanya peers into her binoculars and desperately searches around, not understanding what is happening. Eventually, she is forced to recognize the truth: that the enemy mages are not, in fact, lifting off.

"They're facing certain annihilation, and they're not even going to bother taking off?"

It seems unthinkable. Tanya had been so focused on preemptively batting down the enemy once they attempt to rise in a panic, the notion that they might not lift off at all never even occurred to her.

"You're kidding?! They really aren't going to fly?!"

In aerial mage battles, altitude is usually the deciding factor. Considering just how much of a tactical advantage the Elinium Type 97, capable of combat altitudes of eight thousand, has proven itself to have against enemies who can only reach altitudes of six thousand on average, it would not be an exaggeration to say that allowing an enemy mage to get on your tail is an almost primal fear.

And yet as Tanya stares down at the enemy, which seems to be getting into position in response to their attack, she sees what appears to be mages scrambling back and forth on the ground, intermixed with fleeing infantry. Tanya furrows her brow. This doesn't make sense.

"What are they doing?"

Has the enemy intentionally chosen not to take off?

No, even if their commander ordered them not to fly, at least a few would certainly lift off under these circumstances. Could order in the Federation Army really be this ironclad? Are humans even capable of such discipline? And if the enemy is so disciplined, why are they scrambling on the ground in disarray? It doesn't add up.

Any enemy that could fly would. And then suddenly, a crucial possibility dawns on me.

I mutter aloud, "Maybe it's not that they won't fly. Maybe it's that they

can't."

A small difference, but there are many instances out there where a small difference means all the world. Not mages who won't fly. Mages who can't fly.

Fully ground-based mages! Realizing what I'm seeing, I immediately doff my cap to the Federation's ingenuity. This is a tangible paradigm shift.

"I've got to hand it to them. That's smart… Damn smart."

Depending on how they're used, nonflying mages might make for unprecedentedly superior infantry.

With their defensive shells up, they would likely be able to ignore rifle fire, already making them ideal as assault infantry. And they could easily produce about as much firepower as light machine guns or grenades. With good enough computation orbs, they could even field firepower and armor equivalent to a tank while still remaining infantry-size and thus being much more concealable.

In irregular warfare, they would pose a particular threat.

Why didn't I think of this? It's mortifying! What a brilliant change in mindset. Like the Egg of Columbus.

The enemy, however, lacks experience in aerial mage combat. That is why they are leaking mana signals… In other words, they are still groping in the dark. Meaning they have discovered this before the idea has even hatched.

Naturally, the ability to fly allows aerial mages to seize the advantage. Currently, these ground mages are no more than sitting ducks and, even in future, might not pose much of a threat against their aerial counterparts. But this is war. Total war. There is no reason for nonflying mages to go out of their way to engage flying ones.

In fact, there's no reason to expect it at all. Why should the enemy proactively fight in an arena where they are at a disadvantage? Tanya holds no such distorted and self-interested principles. Fighting fair and square means availing yourself of any and all methods you can fairly and squarely use while limiting your own losses. That's the real principle at play.

"The enemy is smart… Mages are still mages, even on the ground. The Federation has hit upon an ingenious idea."

Tanya, however, turns her thought back to the battlefield at hand. The long-term, bird's-eye view of things can wait. There are times when battle commanders need to focus completely on what is happening before them. And this is one of those times.

"Time to crush them. Now, let's see… How should we go about this?"

The Federation troops are like fish on the chopping block. They have no idea what is coming. While I'm still considering how to best dispatch them, I suddenly realize they would make the perfect target for live-fire training.

Such opportunities are few and far between these days.

Since we've already gone to the trouble of scouting the area in case this unit was a decoy, we know there is no risk of encountering immediate enemy reinforcements. They're as isolated as they can be, and their coordination is inconsistent.

They must have assumed they're hidden from signature detection because they've been sticking to the ground. They're purposely trying not to stand out. Hence how isolated and unusual they seem. That's their mistake, but their reasoning at least is beginning to click into place.

"Everybody, listen! The enemy may not be able to fly! Assume these are ground units only! Don't bother with air-to-air tactics and focus solely on ground strikes instead! Assume the enemy's AA may be relatively powerful!"

If there is no need to worry about air superiority, the strike can be pushed forward a phase. Any chance to avoid unnecessary work is always welcome. Tanya switches tracks.

"First Lieutenant Grantz, First Lieutenant Wüstemann, I'll leave it up to you. Mow down the enemies on the ground using First Lieutenant Wüstemann's company as the main axis."

"What? My…my unit?" says Wüstemann, the youngest officer in the battalion, a blank look of confusion arising on his face as he is taken by surprise.

"First Lieutenant Wüstemann, are you surprised that your unit should lead the way?"

"Well, it's just…"

"You all are nearly first-rate now. Let's see you prove your worth." Tanya changes her tone. "No, I am already well aware of your worth, First Lieutenant Wüstemann. So don't prove it to me. Prove it to yourselves. Show yourself that you can do this."

A quick glance reveals courage in his face. "Roger!"

"Good," Tanya says kindly, before repeating her orders. "Assume ground-strike formation and hammer them until it's done. And expect enemy AA fire. Remember, don't overestimate your protective films; focus on keeping shells up as well."

"Leave it to us!" First Lieutenant Wüstemann shouts enthusiastically.

Tanya nods magnanimously.

However, the orders are for both officers, not just First Lieutenant Wüstemann. Tanya flashes a surreptitious glance at First Lieutenant Grantz as well, letting him casually know that she expects him to keep an eye on things.

"First Lieutenant Grantz, you're on support. Understand? I don't expect any enemies to take to the sky, but if they do, respond appropriately in support of First Lieutenant Wüstemann's unit."

"Of course."

"Good," Tanya says with a nod. However, her subordinate still seems to have reservations.

"But…if the enemy can't fly, aren't we just picking on weaklings? This feels kind of wrong."

A rather bold opinion for First Lieutenant Grantz. The weakness of the enemy seems to have loosened his lips. Tanya decides a light roasting is in order.

"What commendable spirit, First Lieutenant. Just to be fair and square, you can go pick on some powerful enemies instead. Once we're done here, I'll give you your own private mission of glory. We can send you into Federation territory to take on a garrisoned battalion of aerial mages. How does that sound?"

First Lieutenant Grantz flinches, realizing that he brought this on himself, but Tanya just grins back affectionately. Enough for her subordinate to realize it is too late to take it back now.

"Lieutenant Colonel, that's… I'm sorry, that isn't what I meant…"

"No, Lieutenant, you're right. This enemy barely qualifies as a warm-up. I agree entirely. Anytime you wish, just let me know. It doesn't have to be today. I will make the arrangements immediately."

"Your…thoughtfulness is welcome, but…"

Tanya's subordinate begs for mercy, his face tense. Tanya responds with a grin.

"No need to be so shy, First Lieutenant Grantz! I'll give you exactly what you wish! Isn't that wonderful?"

"I… It's an honor."

You see? Tanya is the kind of commanding officer who values the opinions of her troops. She flashes another grin, delivering the coup de grâce.

"Yes, I'm just glad that you're glad, Lieutenant. The very next opportunity we have, I'll be sure to fully exploit your newfound eagerness, but as for today, focus on supporting Lieutenant Wüstemann, if you don't mind."

With that, the first lieutenant trudges away. Tanya's second-in-command shouts after him as well, a look of exasperation on his face.

"Come on, Lieutenant…"

"Sorry," First Lieutenant Grantz says, bowing his head commendably to Major Weiss as well. But Grantz isn't a bad officer. He can just be rather childish.

Major Weiss understands this as well. With a brief frown, he smacks First Lieutenant Grantz on the shoulder.

"Next time, think before you speak." "Yes, Major."

Aftercare and conclusion. That's Major Weiss, always playing the good

cop.

"Although…," I mutter with a pause. Why should I be the bad cop? I may not be the most affectionate educator, but I do take pride in conducting myself in a way that could be described at least as benevolent.

Such thoughts can wait for later.

"Instructions for all battalion members. Following your commanders' leads, split into companies and destroy the enemy mechanized mage unit. And be prepared for the possibility of enemy reinforcements. That means time is of the essence. Let's take care of them quickly, like always!"

After receiving orders, each company springs into action with satisfying speed. First Lieutenant Wüstemann, despite leading a unit with replacements, shows no particular deficiencies in comparison with the rest.

Thinking everything looks fine, Tanya notices the worried look on Major Weiss's face.

"Are you sure this is all right?"

"You mean placing Lieutenant Wüstemann's company out in front?" "Yes," Major Weiss says, to which Tanya nods, as if annoyed.

"The point is the first pass. Honestly, Federation units are durable…but what I'm looking for is to get a grip on how strong the mages working in combination with this enemy mechanized unit are," she explains. "In other words, I'm interested in seeing if they can oppose a unit that, while elite, is not Named. I figured Lieutenant Wüstemann's men would serve as a decent stand-in for a standard unit."

"I see…so it's recon in force."

"Yes," Tanya says but goes on to correct the major.

"I'm also fully aware of the worth of Lieutenant Wüstemann and his men. They are very nearly first-rate. So if they wind up being too skilled and routing the enemy easily, that is just as acceptable."

Tanya glances questioningly toward Major Weiss to see if he understands, but the major needs hear no more. He nods quietly before mustering his own unit. As Tanya shrugs in annoyed relief, First Lieutenant Serebryakov comes abreast, approaching tight into Tanya's pocket.

The only reason Tanya is able to talk to her officers in such a leisurely fashion is because her wingman has been keeping an eye out. Such a solid and dependable adjutant is a rare treasure.

"Thank you as always, Lieutenant Serebryakov."

"Colonel?"

"Never mind, it's nothing.

"Now then," I say, readying my rifle in preparation for the start of combat. As she does so, her adjutant, who is monitoring things from Tanya's side, reports on what she sees.

"Wüstemann's unit has commenced their incursion. They're conducting themselves admirably."

Just as First Lieutenant Serebryakov says, the attacking company is doing an impressive job. The speed with which they assume attack formation. The way they maintain pairing. The timing of their ground attacks. If I could find one complaint, it would likely be that their attack is too textbook and not responsive enough. But it is better to pick an appropriate form and stick to it than to crumble to pieces.

Tactically speaking, everything is within acceptable parameters.

As Tanya watches on, the aerial mages break off and rake the tanks on the ground with explosion formulas. Their maneuvers are top-notch as they attack, with multiple pairs constantly coordinating so they never all come from the same angle. The enemy on the ground is likely having a difficult time picking out a target to shoot back at. If enemy rounds can't even graze our protective films, let alone our defensive shells, it should certainly cut down on magic consumption.

"As aerial mages go, not bad."

From my point of view, they're decent. Not bad at all. In other words, according to current Imperial wartime standards, these erstwhile replacements have undoubtedly reached the level of honored veterans.

"See that, Serebryakov? What do you think?" "They seem pretty impressive to me."

"Indeed. An example of how the combination of combat experience and training changes people, I suppose."

I get a little emotional seeing subordinates I've trained in action, but on the battlefield, the time for such sentimentality is short. Mixed in with the sound of explosive formulas being hurtled at the ground, I hear some sort of strange atmospherics over the radio.

The enemy must be in serious disarray. Our attack appears to be going swimmingly. Of course, these enemies are not the type to be wiped out with a single explosive formula, like the last ones… We're fortunate to be able to

harass such capable units while they remain on the ground. As I'm thinking this, my adjutant, who is still flying nearby, speaks up.

"The attack is going well."

"Maybe too well, if you ask me. I was expecting at least a little kickback."

"The Empire does have a bit of a head start when it comes to mage combat, after all."

"A bit?" I clutch my sides in amusement. How unlike the first lieutenant. "It's not like you to misread that situation like that, Lieutenant."

"Hmm?"

"A bit of a head start? The gap between us is a half century long!"

Huh? A look of confusion appears on my adjutant's face, but she quickly turns her attention back to the skirmish, reporting on what she finds.

"I'm picking up an increase in communications from the Federation unit. They're probably requesting relief."

"Very likely," I respond.

"Like us, the enemy will do what is natural. Nothing surprising there.

Now then, this is where the race against the clock begins…"

Reminded again that time is short, I consider our options. I've already confirmed the skill level of my subordinates. What now? Should we add to our success by also crushing the reinforcements, who are likely on the way?

No, no, the order from above was to attempt a single strike. Recon in force or not, I doubt they want us to gradually expand the scope of the battle to the point that we are taking on reinforcements. The original mission is to figure out the enemy disposition.

"Yes, no more, no less."

We've already achieved our goal. There's no point in forcing my men into repeated battles right now. The proper thing to do is to wrap things up fast and head home at the appointed time, before running into unnecessary overtime.

"All right, everyone, let's mop up any remaining enemies quickly! Let's go," I say, waving to my adjutant as I shout into the radio.

"01 to Major Weiss! Have your unit prepare for an intercept, just in case! Everyone else, light them up! Follow Lieutenant Wüstemann's lead!"

"Roger!"

"Roger!"

"Roger!"

Channeling magic into their computation orbs, the other companies, which have been on standby, commence an assault run as ordered. Usually, our approach is to float like a butterfly, sting like a bee. But I notice that the antiair fire from the ground remains sparse.

"It's pretty scant…"

We've gotten used to facing fairly heavy antiair fire in recent memory, but today seems to be an exception. The confused enemy ground troops don't seem to have the wherewithal to point any heavy machine guns our way.

"Hmm?"

I stare down at the Type 97 Computation Orb in my hand. The fact that it has a dual core means that, depending on how you handle it, it's capable of doing some of the same things a Type 95 can. More importantly, it is gentler on the user's spirit. Essentially, a sustainable orb. Maybe not green, but at least clean.

To repeat, as this is very important, from the user's point of view, the Type 97s are extremely clean and sustainable masterwork orbs.

Meaning it would be to our immense advantage to expand the range of what is possible with these orbs.

"Okay, let's try something new."

Extra power means we have a little extra leeway for some trial and error.

During our last recon sortie, I criticized this approach as impractical, but there is value in reappraising whether or not it can be pulled off during a ground strike such as this.

"01 to all members. 01 to all members. Spatial detonation alert in effect, repeat, spatial detonation alert in effect. All friendly units are to leave the area of effect."

In response to Tanya's warning, the Imperial mages promptly turn about and begin to evacuate the target zone at high speed. I chuckle to myself as the enemies below simultaneously regroup, mistakenly thinking that we've given up the attack. No one down there seems to have realized that I'm setting up a fixed turret.

Now that we've secured our safety for the time being, I pump a massive amount of magic into my Type 97 Computation Orb, as if to test its limits, even dipping into my reserves. Although on the verge of overload, the cores

just barely succeed in simultaneously running both a flight formula and a ground-attack spatial detonation formula.

Unfortunately, it's still not possible to drop formulas while maneuvering for combat and randomly evading at combat speed, but that isn't particularly different from the Type 95.

Because spatial detonation–type formulas must be used in a fashion similar to fixed turrets, their strategic practicality on the battlefield is generally limited. But if you could ignore those restrictions—say, in a situation where antiair fire is limited…

As soon as the warning was given, the attacking Imperial mages turned tail like terrified rabbits, knowing what was coming. I release the incredible destructive force toward the ground.

The result is like a thermobaric bomb. A miniature sun appears on the ground, leaving what can only be described as tattered remains in its wake. Our task is complete.

I order my troops to clean up any remaining enemies before calling Command again on my long-range radio.

"HQ, HQ. This is Salamander 01. We have destroyed the enemy mechanized unit."

"Any losses, Salamander 01?" the somewhat worried voice over the line says, annoying me all over again.

Were it the kind of worry one feels for a friend or loved one, I might have thanked them for their concern… Unfortunately, this voice is practically dripping with the type of worry that is born out of a lack of faith. That's why I use deliberately bombastic words in my response.

"We are aerial mages of the Empire. There is no enemy who can resist us. I repeat. We are aerial mages of the Empire. There is no enemy who can resist us. Over."

I cut off communications somewhat arbitrarily with a small sigh. The quality of controllers has certainly gone downhill these days. Remaining calm and collected used to be their specialty. Who would have expected to see such professionals replaced by whining rookies? What kind of a way is that for backline personnel to act, sitting back there in relative safety as they are?

First, those enemy rookies scrambling on the ground, and now this kind of green behavior from our own controllers… Battlefield or not, I'm

tempted to throw my head back and cry. I look up suddenly. "What is it, Major Weiss?"

"I like the sound of that phrase. What is it, Major Weiss? I hope I get to say it myself someday."

"In the mood for some bragging yourself, Major?"

"You're one to speak, Colonel. That was some very big talk with Control."

"True," I say with a nod, grateful for such a thoughtful second-in- command. I was the one shooting off at the mouth, after all.

"I just hate to be undervalued." These are my plain, unvarnished feelings. "Here on the front line, you and I produce results. Regardless of what some rookie back in the rear has to say about it."

"I see. Thank you for explaining. Let's hope they understand as well." "Exactly," I say, smiling at Major Weiss.

"Now that our job is done, there is no reason for us to hang around here.

Let's hurry and head back."

On the way back, something occurred to me. What I have to report to General Zettour is serious, but will I be able to fully convey the chill I felt shoot down my spine while out on the battlefield?

"The Federation is aiming to weaponize mages in a totally new way."

The enemy seems to be moving toward fully deploying mages as ground troops. The more I think about it, the more I see it as a clear, urgent, and serious threat.

Once you remove the need to teach flight navigation, very little training beyond infantry combat drills is required. Even with orbs and formulas, learning even just one provides ample strength.

In other words, the Federation will be able to insert mages into combat in extremely short time frames. If, for instance, they are able to refine that possibility in the future to the point of having troops with the same level of aptitude as aerial mages—even if these troops are simply used as expendable, more robust infantry, with not only defensive shells but protective films as well, the defense of each individual soldier would increase by leaps and bounds.

Plus, the addition of something like explosion formulas for modest attack power or optical formulas for squad-level fire support would go a long way to increasing the capabilities of mechanized infantry units.

It is a completely different idea from the Empire's approach, where mages are expected to specialize in all fields as dedicated aerial troops capable of multiple roles. But make no mistake, it is strategically sound.

Most importantly, they would be able to train mages quickly. And comparatively easily as well, and in greater numbers than the Empire… Although honestly, whether they can achieve those numbers in real-life conditions is doubtful.

But if they could, it would be a serious threat.

After all, even if we attempt to oppose them with quality, the Empire simply doesn't have enough mages. In truth, the Empire's notion of using mages as capable Swiss Army knives is too brash to begin with.

The Empire's method of rearing mages obviously can't be forced. Anyone can tell that much. I glance over and see Major Weiss naturally maintaining his unit's formation, which looks broken but is well coordinated. First Lieutenant Wüstemann and his men, meanwhile, are flying in neatly formed ranks. The former is the type that's written about in textbooks, while the latter is the type that reads from them.

So far, the Empire has striven for the former. But that is an impossible standard to hope for in times of war.

Not that there is anything particularly wrong with First Lieutenant Wüstemann. He works very hard in his own way. But as far as I know, by the standards of magic first lieutenants from before the war, First Lieutenant Wüstemann's formation seem hopelessly crude.

However, in truth, that crudeness comes down to the Imperial Army's insistence that their mages do absolutely anything and everything. There is no doubt that if someone said to him, Don't fly, deploy your shells, and instead of being a full powerhouse, stick to just one formula against the enemy, then they would have done a much more admirable job than those Federation soldiers from earlier.

In terms of strength, we are still on top.

But this isn't a sports match where everyone plays in teams with equal numbers. In war, anything goes. Regardless of the difference in power between different weapons in a vacuum, being outnumbered is a massive

handicap.

Under the present circumstances, the Federation's approach might be the optimal solution.

In addition to this apprehension, I'm keenly aware that we don't have any countermeasures for this. The Empire has made enemies of the entire world. We can scrabble as much as we like, but our base manpower just doesn't compare to the combined superpowers.

It's simple arithmetic.

The fact that we have maintained a better kill ratio is only a slight advantage. The end is bound to come eventually. The only thing that can postpone that inevitability is to quickly train new recruits, but… I suddenly shake my head mid-thought.

"I am thinking too far ahead."

It is unfair for HR to change evaluation standards based on feeling and circumstance. No matter what, personnel evaluations must be fitting. As a company man, this is irrefutable common sense. The current sad state of reality, more than anything—where war has been allowed to undermine such foundational norms—fills me with unease.

Surely, this is another way for Being X's vulgar schemes to work its hooks into my internal sense of value and ethics. Resisting that is my duty. As a fair and appropriate appraiser, as a person, I cannot help but strive to fulfill my duty to identify what truly matters and to circulate fair evaluations of my subordinate employees.

All the more reason. I address one of those subordinates now in a familiar tone.

"Very good job, Lieutenant Wüstemann." "Thank you, Colonel. You honor me."

"You did well. I noticed in Ildoa as well, but you keep improving. Being surrounded by so many old veterans, it must be easy to compare yourself to others, but it all comes down to repetition and determination. Keep raising my expectations, Lieutenant."

Performance evaluations must be shared appropriately with the employee in question.

I understand that when you sense exceptionalism and see growth, a real boss must be unstinting in recognizing that. I have my own convictions, after all, when it comes to human resource management.

"Show a little pride, Lieutenant. You've proven yourself today." "I feel a little embarrassed hearing that from you, Colonel…"

"An achievement is an achievement. Some self-confidence is in order."

A faint hint of that confidence appears in First Lieutenant Wüstemann's face now. As I spot it, I say the words I assume he wants to hear.

"I'll be counting on you next time."

"Yes, ma'am," First Lieutenant Wüstemann shouts loudly. "Thank you…Colonel."

"Counting on you and the abilities of your squad. When we get back, allow me to get you a drink. What's your poison?"

"Anything distilled is fine in my opinion."

"I believe we've got some schnapps. I'll hunt it down later." "Thank you!"

"Of course," I say, waving my hand as I walk away from First Lieutenant Wüstemann's formation before beckoning over First Lieutenant Grantz. Fortunately, he catches the hint and comes over immediately.

"The Federation force from earlier…?" I ask lightly. "What should we call them? A mechanized mage unit? What was your impression of them, Lieutenant Grantz, now that you've actually fought them?"

"They were a solid unit. Honestly, I was surprised. The skill level of the mages was a bit rough, but…"

"Yes? It's fine, you can continue."

"…even though they couldn't fly, as mages, their defense was obviously a lot stronger than normal infantry," the young first lieutenant says, displaying surprising powers of perception. "They were no problem for us, but…they could prove to be pretty tough for friendly infantry or mages of a normal level.

"This is just my own opinion," First Lieutenant Grantz says, reaching his conclusion.

"…But units like that could become a real threat. Even subpar mages can muster firepower to match a light machine gun. That would make them a dangerous enemy for regular infantry. With enough numbers, they might pose a very big threat."

"A fitting opinion. And what about our side? How should our forces oppose them? This is an excellent opportunity. I would like to hear your opinion."

First Lieutenant Grantz thinks for a moment before speaking.

"Well, seeing as they are a ground target… If we think of defensive shells as essentially armor, I wonder if maybe we should respond like we would to tanks."

"Specifically? Would you send tanks?"

"If we're trying to avoid getting close, then mortars maybe. Since the enemy can't fly, if we shelled them with everything we've got as soon as we pick up their mana signature, that would do the trick, I think."

As I weigh this response, I'm not sure how to respond. Obviously, there is logic in what he says. In the end, firepower would solve their ailment. His answer is also mostly correct when it comes to the roles of each army. The approach of taking out the enemy before they could get close is generally fine as well. However, there is one point that my subordinate has overlooked.

"I'll have to ask Captain Meybert when we get back." "Huh?"

"About remaining munitions. I'm sure he can break down the numbers."

As we return to their garrison, First Lieutenant Tospan comes out to greet them, a smile of satisfaction on his face at a job well done. He has been doing excellent work getting their base into order. For a field camp, that is.

"I barely recognized the place, Lieutenant. Do you plan for concrete as well?"

"Yes. I was able to get them to allot us some concrete intended for fortifications, just in case."

"Of course," I say, nodding. "In line with General Zettour's defensive maintenance plans."

Full-scale planning is dubious; much of it remains a general outline at best, but in terms of fieldwork, the Empire has been fervent, even planning for materials. Excellent. I nod approvingly. It's better to have defensive installations than to not. Those pretentious fools who balked at the idea of digging holes have likely long since perished.

And fortifications are fortifications, after all, even when those fortifications are shabby fieldwork. Even when it barely amounts to more

than makeshift plugging of holes in drafty sleeping quarters. "Thank you, Lieutenant Tospan. Keep up the good work."

"Yes, Colonel," my subordinate says. Leaving him behind, I gather my magic officers and head over to see Captain Meybert, who has been left in command in my absence. Arriving at the command center, I'm shocked to discover that the drafts have been plugged up completely!

Inside the literally now-warmer command center, I smile in relief. Although, the face of Captain Meybert, who has been left in charge in her absence, is not exactly toasty and cheerful. However, hot cocoa, indispensable and welcoming, awaits in the simple, bare-bones command room. Apparently somehow provided for by the captain himself.

"Well!"

"I figured, since it was a winter flight."

Sensible and considerate. my appraisal of the artillery commander immediately skyrockets.

"Thank you, Captain."

"Don't mind if I do," the officers say, greedy hands quickly thrusting out from all directions. It does not take long for the provided cocoa to disappear into their stomachs.

"You could have at least savored it a little," Captain Meybert grumbles with a smile, earning his reputation as a decent fellow. Incidentally, when asked how he had managed to suddenly get his hands on cocoa, the captain grins wryly.

"It was shared from Eastern Command. A former schoolmate of mine is in their quartermaster unit. An old buddy."

"Excellent. Shortcuts are always welcome."

Several questioning glances soon turn Captain Meybert's way, wondering if we can expect more of such treatment in the future. In response, the captain, serious artillery commander that he is, shakes his head sadly.

"I doubt it. But I'll see what I can do."

"Too bad," they all say, breaking the ice. Afterward, Captain Meybert deftly reports on what followed in their absence. But of course, it was all cocoa levels of peace and quiet back at base. Honestly, he is just informing Tanya of what she already knows: that First Lieutenant Tospan was industrious in carrying out fieldwork, carefully digging holes in the ground

and patching up holes in the walls.

As an officer with extensive field experience, Captain Meybert is actually far more interested in the new troops encountered by Tanya and the others.

"Now then, onto the main topic. What were those new troops like?" "The main topic, is it, Captain?"

"It involves grasping the enemy's current situation. Obviously, that is very important. Besides, from an artillery point of view, if enemy mechanized units begin incorporating magic and deploying defensive shells…how can I not worry?"

Hmph. I grimace, ceding the truth in what he says.

Sharing information with the unit is very important. As is the after- action review. And perhaps a non-magic officer's perspective would be warranted.

"To put it bluntly, as a lone unit, they weren't much. It was like attacking an isolated mechanized infantry brigade. In terms of outcome, striking them with a full mage battalion was likely overkill, if anything."

"And…when they're not a lone unit?"

"Honestly, I don't know, Captain Meybert," I say, verbalizing my uncertainty. "By our standards, they were shockingly weak. The fact that their mana signature leaked badly enough to give away the location of the entire mechanized unit is an obvious shortcoming. On top of that, if the combination was functioning, it would be a threat. But at the moment, where it is canceling out the advantages of both sides? Could it be a threat? It is hard to say."

"Hmm." Captain Meybert appears lost in thought for a moment. However, First Lieutenant Grantz, who is standing next to him, interrupts, apparently having an idea. Yes, but…

"…We do something similar. Especially when advancing in areas where we need to keep our magic completely sealed. We've made pretty good use of vehicles, including Captain Ahrens's tanks."

"Yes," I agree. It isn't just tank desant tactics. Mages are quite frequently moved using other methods, including airborne deployment from transports.

"Lieutenant Colonel, First Lieutenant Grantz has a point. Keeping surprise attacks in mind, if the enemy refines this method, it could become a

very dangerous tactic, couldn't it?" Major Weiss asks, a sense of urgency in his voice.

My adjutant nods, also in agreement.

"I think the major is right to worry. Like First Lieutenant Grantz, I know very well how tremendous the surprise factor can be when waiting until we are right on top of an enemy to manifest a signature."

First Lieutenant Grantz seems pleased with himself. Like Major Weiss and First Lieutenant Serebryakov, I, too, have no major disagreement with what Grantz has said.

"As a simple way to weaponize unseasoned soldiers with magical aptitude, tactically speaking, it could be an outsized threat if they focus on surprise. However…"

As someone who has built a career as an aerial mage, I can't help but wonder: In the end, wouldn't repeat strikes by aerial mages almost always be superior? In fact, while the tactical advantages of stealth are unmistakable, for regular forces, wouldn't the strategic advantages be far more underwhelming?

"To put it plainly," I mutter. "For better or worse, your opinions are those of veteran mages. With veterans, such an application might be practical, but what about with new soldiers who can't even fly?"

A card that can conveniently be used by anyone is the strongest. But the value changes when that card can only be used by a select few. If the card is a wild card, perfect for all situations, then certainly, that would be powerful. But if your hand is full of cards that are only powerful in certain settings, then you would actually be powerless against changes in circumstance and environment.

"The Empire may be overly balanced in favor of aerial mage tactics, and there is probably some sense in weaponizing mages who cannot fly by attaching them to ground troops and using them as powerful infantry that remain hidden until use. But enough for ground-based mages to justify their cost?" I ask doubtfully.

However, Captain Meybert, who rose up the ranks of artillery gunners, shares a surprising piece of information.

"Colonel, with respect, you know there is past precedent for such use?" "Precedent? I'm sorry, I'm not familiar…"

"I've been restudying infantry manuals regulations on my own. Out of

private interest, I was looking into prior texts, but…the expectation was once that mages would be used as powerful ground troops."

"How, specifically, were they to be used?"

"As an armored fist. Like walking heavy cavalry. Calling them tanks would be a little much, but the idea was to use them like mobile strongholds, equipped with light field guns, in support of infantry."

"Interesting," First Lieutenant Grantz says, striking his hands together with a laugh. "Mobile light artillery! Of course, the idea would be to use the firepower of mages like light artillery! Now that you mention it, mage shells and films would also provide defense… They really would function like strongholds." First Lieutenant Grantz finishes with a grimace. "I did something similar when guarding General Zettour. I can sort of picture what Captain Meybert is describing."

"Go on, Lieutenant. Do you think that sort of use would be advantageous in this day for regular forces?"

"For guarding VIPs, probably…but for just guarding infantry, maybe against small arms, but I can't imagine they would make for much of a bulwark against heavy weaponry."

Major Weiss is next to respond.

"Even the Federation's more durable defensive shells could be broken easily with focused optical formula fire. Like Grantz said, it would be impressive if they stood up against even one such shot."

"True," I say, agreeing with Major Weiss before turning my eyes toward Captain Meybert.

"They're right, Captain. When it comes to regular forces, it seems like a mage's place is in the skies. After all, that's what allows for drop tactics and strong point control…"

There is a look of recognition on Captain Meybert's face. His expression changes to a frown.

"You mean like in Ildoa?" "Yes, that as well."

Tanya and the others shrug. They were put through some serious shit out on the Ildoan front. "Enough reminiscing, however," I say, getting the conversation back on track. "In the end, to us, as an aerial mage battalion, they didn't feel like much of a threat. But ground troops have their own perspective. Without mages, opposing them at the unit level might be

difficult."

"Extremely difficult," Captain Meybert answers honestly. "I faced close combat against an enemy mage unit without mage support before, at harbor, and let me tell you, it was rough."

"Of course, when that guest from Command came to visit."

"Yes," Captain Meybert says, his face looking as if he has swallowed something bitter. He continues, "This Kampfgruppe is fortunate when it comes to having ways to handle mages. Most are very familiar with what mages can do. But…for a unit of new recruits? In systematic close combat with mages?"

It's obvious to them all that the situation would be difficult. As their boss, Tanya voices an unpleasant hypothesis.

"Okay then, for argument's sake, let's consider the worst-case possibility. That there is sufficient probability that the enemy will use these mage units to spearhead a breakthrough."

Once they have all accepted the possibility, I ask my next question.

"Well? In that event, would our overall defensive line be able to hold against such an assault?"

The look on their faces, as displeasure gives way to grimness, is a sight worth seeing. Just then, First Lieutenant Wüstemann, who has been standing back hesitantly, raises his hand. Tanya turns her eyes toward him questioningly, and he begins to speak.

"I know we should consider that possibility first…but wouldn't the quickest way to handle that be counterstriking with aerial mages? I mean, an eye for an eye, and a tooth for a tooth, right?"

"True," everyone agrees.

"There aren't enough mages, though, Lieutenant."

"Yes, Colonel. But I imagine we would resort to artillery fire in the end."

Against enemy warships, allied warships. Against enemy fighter planes, allied fighter planes. And against enemy mages, allied mages. And if that doesn't suffice, bring in the cannons. Demolish all problems through firepower.

However, Captain Meybert now mentions their financial straits.

"Just like with mages, we don't have enough. If we had a surplus of shells, Lieutenant Wüstemann would have a good point, but…"

"…We don't?"

"Exactly," the artillery commander says with an uncomfortable nod. "While you were gone, I tried negotiating with Command, even hitting up the quartermasters, but when it comes to ammo and fuel, there's nothing to be had but empty promises. It seems the usual allotment has all been diverted to the Ildoan front…"

Meybert managed to wring even cocoa out of the quartermasters, but when it came to shells, the answer was zero. The sad state of their ammo reserves. The absolutely deplorable state of supplies.

But of course, those gathered in the command post understand how things have gotten this way. The lavish splurge on the southern Ildoan front was drawn from future expenses in the east. The unprecedented abundance of support, the scale of supplies, so rare these days, and the thorough insertion of combat forces achieved in Ildoa came from the supplemental— at times, even basic—supplies, as well as replacement personnel, that should have gone to the east. Even planes were diverted—anything and everything.

No one can create something from nothing. And General Zettour is no exception. The east was forced to make a corresponding sacrifice, plain and simple.

What if they need to fortify their line quickly, the grace period of the spring mud season notwithstanding? They would prove to be brittle pushovers against the Federation's inevitable counterattack.

In which case, instead of lamenting over this uncertainty, they need to find a way to make ends meet. She sighs.

"No mages, no shells, no nothing. First Lieutenant Wüstemann, there is no point in wishing for what we do not have. We'll just have to figure something out with what we do."

Surely, no one could disagree with that. It is painfully obvious, however, that the road ahead will be harsh. After all, we can hardly fill a dearth in gunpowder and fuel with pure idealism. And if anyone out there thinks that they could, everyone on the front lines would unite in agreement that the person is welcome to go out there in their place and try.

The real problem is that all things are squandered in war. Which is why Tanya I believe only fools wage unwinnable wars. Fools. Deep down, that's what I think these people are.

As a business-minded person, however, I must consider remedial measures. After giving it some thought, I share my thoughts.

"Ammo, we can likely expect to be replenished. For mages, the attrition is too severe."

Mages are reliant on the quality of the individual! Training is difficult, and replenishment is terrible. There is little we can expect on that front. But shells can be mass-produced!

"It is because we keep insisting on surviving, though," Tanya mutters, "that they keep working us so hard. We are scarce pawns. There are plenty of venerable superior officers, like General Zettour, in the upper ranks. But when it comes to our unit, I am the most veteran magic officer, and the next after me is First Lieutenant Serebryakov. I'd laugh if it weren't so sad."

It wasn't always like that.

"On the Rhine front, Visha and I were both just petty second lieutenants, bottom-rung mages! There were plenty of people above us."

"I remember," my adjutant says, her cheeks relaxing into a smile.

"We were thrown onto the Rhine front straight out of Cadet Corps. The superior officer at the time was an imposing platoon leader with a vaguely veteran air about him."

Yes, and the lieutenant colonel… I glare at Lieutenant Grantz as a look of reminiscence begins to appear on his face. Then I let out a sigh.

"War drags on too long. We—those like us—are like living fossils at this point."

A peaceful job transfer may be out of the question, but I would like a change of post. Or at the very least, reduced working hours.

But these are idle complaints. Ones that I can do nothing about and thus are hardly productive. If complaining has a purpose, that is one thing, but complaining for complaint's sake—that is only a waste of time.

In war, there is no luxury more hateful than the squandering of time.

Though simple, the postmission briefing is already complete. So there is no reason to force my subordinates into unnecessary overtime. Time is a limited commodity that should be respected, regardless of whom that time belongs to. I wrap up the discussion.

"Captain Meybert, let's finish up for now. I'll leave you in charge of command until next shift. My men and I need some rest after our flight."

"Leave it to me."

"Keep it up," I respond, before dismissing my subordinate officers with a smile that is benevolence itself. Good work, everyone. Your time is yours

—snatch some sleep if you like."

Waving my hand, I briskly putter toward the barn, which now serves as our makeshift cafeteria, for a light snack. It seems the other magic officers, however, have the same thought. Well, look at that, a meal all together. Receiving rewarmed stew and bread from the duty officer, they sit down in a circle inside the shabby barn.

Obviously, it is nothing fancy or officer class. The cutlery is field issue, and the food has been reheated. The fact that there are hot beverages, even, is a luxury, though the beverages are hardly piping hot.

"How long ago was it now when we were eating dinner in the capital?" my adjutant mutters. I just laugh.

"Why, it was just the other day, during our half holiday! If I opened up my wallet now, I bet I'd find the big fat receipt from all the food you'd eaten…"

"You would not! General Staff gave you a ticket for that!" "See, you do remember!" the others interject.

Embarrassed, First Lieutenant Serebryakov quickly scarfs down her bread. "You know, this bread is actually pretty good," she says, grinning and feigning innocence.

I grimace and decide to let her off easy, having already escaped the brunt of pursuit.

"What about you, First Lieutenant Wüstemann? Did you enjoy your time in the capital after so long?"

"I know it's the job, but I was stuck doing paperwork…," he says somewhat accusatorily. I shrug.

"Well, I believe I ensured you had at least a measure of free time."

"Yes, thankfully, I was able to visit my family for the first time in ages. Honestly, I never thought I'd see myself using my orb for a personal flight home…"

"You have Lieutenant Serebryakov to thank for that. She did a wonderful job of arranging for detached orderly duty just as everyone was ready to visit home."

"Well, I say this as someone who got her work done ahead of time, but…it's the least I could do," First Lieutenant Serebryakov says with a

laugh, ever the go-getter.

"You're quite the veteran, Lieutenant Serebryakov… Quick with your work and skilled in combats. Brains and beauty, as they say," First Lieutenant Wüstemann replies.

Really? First Lieutenant Serebryakov seems to feel a sense of pride at his words, but Weiss, Grantz, and I, who have known First Lieutenant Serebryakov for longer, look a little confused.

It's true, Visha is very reliable. But…

"Brains and beauty?" First Lieutenant Grantz says in a tone of disbelief, finishing my thought. He quickly changes his tune, however, when he catches First Lieutenant Serebryakov glaring straight at him.

"Yes, Lieutenant Serebryakov's amazing skills in combat and exemplary figure is an inspiration to us all!"

"That's better."

"Better" my ass! And besides, why is he letting a little stare intimidate him? Weiss and I sigh at Grantz's behavior.

"Back in the day, this is what was expected of any adjutant, First Lieutenant Wüstemann."

"Seriously?!"

"Yes," I say, lecturing the young fledgling.

"First Lieutenant Grantz, do you remember getting the runaround from General Zettour?"

"Yeah, after my promotion, I was worn ragged."

In response to the serious young first lieutenant's words, another male first lieutenant, once young and ambitious in his own right, exhales slowly.

"Speaking as someone who experiences my own fair share of runaround, anyone capable of doing my adjutant's job has my unqualified respect. For some reason, though, when it comes to Visha…"

"She's been my wingman ever since the Rhine. It's probably just easier when you're close like this."

I grimace as I hear a thwip, thwip noise coming from my side—the sound of First Lieutenant Serebryakov whipping her head back and forth. Obviously, she must be nodding her head to say yes, but there is no need to be so enthusiastic about it!

"Why, Visha! I had no idea you found the job so easy!" "What? Huh… That is… I mean…"

I smile gently. I know it must be embarrassing for a subordinate to admit their job is easy.

"Relax, Lieutenant Serebryakov. You should be proud to serve as an adjutant to a superior officer who is as eminently laid-back and free from caprice as I am!"

"Umm, Colonel?"

"What is it, Major Weiss?"

"When you say, 'eminently laid-back'…eminent in comparison to what?"

"Why, isn't it obvious?" I say, answering my subordinate with a nod. Yes, I have been blessed with deeds of valor. But inside, I am as standard as they come. Just another ordinary cog. It is painful to call oneself ordinary, but if there is one thing that is commendable about me, I suppose it is that I am too diligent."

"I suppose that comes with being in the army for so long," Major Weiss says shortly, looking rather stunned.

I'm rather impressed by his words. It's true. When someone spends as much time as she has in an organization that demands uniformity—such as the military, where even their education is carried out internally—then of course it makes sense that they will tend to become molded into the standardized type for that organization.

Yes, a keen insight. I decide to praise his powers of discernment.

"You may be right, Major Weiss. In that sense, I may indeed be considered the organizational standard. Well, the past standard, that is."

"I see," Major Weiss says, a perplexed look appearing on his face. He begins to speak somewhat hesitantly. In that case, Colonel, if you are the past standard, then…how far exactly has today's standard fallen, would you say?"

"Let's see, Lieutenant Serebryakov and I were treated like a couple eggs, yet to be hatches. So less than eggs now, I suppose?"

Major Weiss's next words seem almost resigned. He has a pensive look on his face.

"…How is this war going to play out?" he says, before looking down quietly.

I understand what he is asking and try to be as truthful as I can be in confirming his fears.

"A total war that drags on too long." "Which means…"

"You already know what that means, Major. At some point, we will reach a limit, if things keep going on as they are."

She can't go so far as to openly suggest the Empire's defeat. "A battle of endurance."

"No, nothing so admirable," I mutter, shrugging. "Colonel?"

"What is it, Lieutenant Serebryakov?" "Do you think we will win…?"

A direct question. The barn falls quiet as the other officers, who should have still been shoveling stew into their mouth, glance out of the corners of their eyes, awaiting my answer.

But there is only one answer I can give.

"Are you saying you think we will lose…?" "No, but…"

…will we win? I hold my hand up to stop her before she can continue. "Can one country win against the entire world?"

"Well…"

"Stop asking foolish questions. I have my position to think about."

There are things that can't be said out loud. But of course, that is not something most people can be satisfied with.

"So it's true?" First Lieutenant Grantz says, his tone casual and yet determined. He is staring straight at me.

"Colonel…"

…please tell us your answer. But before he can finish the question, I'm already speaking.

"Wretched situation notwithstanding, going any further along these lines would be impudent. At our pay grade, all we need worry about is defeating the enemy in front of our noses. The affairs of worlds and nations are beyond our purview."

"But!"

First Lieutenant Grantz remains stubborn as always, like a dog with a bone. Hold on. I think for a moment. Perhaps First Lieutenant Grantz has absorbed some of the mutterings of General Zettour in his time. If so, then her answer is clear.

"To a patriot, the answer is obvious."

I now know the right words. When on a sinking ship, your choice of words is of utmost importance, after all.

"If we do not fight, we cannot survive. So that is what we must do. Fight and survive! We haven't lost yet, but if you let fatalism take hold, you lose yourselves to the festering in your hearts!"

"Colonel, thank you…!"

"It's nothing," I say, shrugging. But it was a close call. The other magic officers were nearly at the core of the matter. But it is too early to speak of defeat. Conditions are not ready for the idea to be out in the open. At this stage, it is best to avoid the spread of any kind of talk that would be interpreted as defeatism.

It is important to face reality directly, but I understand an unfortunate truth. Those capable of looking at reality head-on can take necessary measures. That is indisputable. But sad though it might be, when the majority of people are still not capable of embracing that truth, then the strong ones, the ones who are capable of facing it first, are often those forced to become sacrificial lambs.

Tanya knows this. Even when the neighbor's house is burning, not everyone can recognize how far the fire has grown and reach for the hose.

Thus, a true manager's role is to help their subordinates see the signposts, and fortunately, I pride myself at being an expert in this.

"Victory depends on how much we can recover before the enemy's counteroffensive."

In response to my words, my subordinate officers begin calculating schedules in their head. The Kampfgruppe burned through a significant amount of resources and personnel in Ildoa. While there has already been a partial replenishment of those human resources, most of these replacements are new recruits. How far can training progress in the two to three months of grace likely afforded us?

Right now, these rookies are deadweight, not even fit to serve as meat shields, but all soldiers are like that at first. The nature of an organization is that is allows such people to be utilized and trained, building up to greater things. In other words, new recruits are and always will be the future.

Time permitting.

This is what helps us rise to tough times in the future.

-x-X-x-

[Image]

-x-X-x-

However, what Tanya and the others do not know at this moment is that, often, what makes tough times so tough is that they do not happen at the time and place of your choosing.