Plus Ultra

by Carlo Zen

  It was precisely for that reason, due to their quick sagacity, that they sensed they were facing a crisis. Even if all the stories had been exaggerated, this was an imperial Named. And the reinforcements consisted of a battalion—very likely an augmented battalion. Even taking the simplest view, it was a battalion-scale attack. There was no cause for optimism.

  “So what if that Named can blow up a whole company instantaneously? There’s no way the bastard can take two battalions, right?”

  Still, a wishful hope existed somewhere in their minds. Let’s just say, hypothetically, that there was a Named who could fight against a company. Even so, numbers can overwhelm strength—so they still had a chance. If she had been alone, she probably wouldn’t have been such a problem.

  “But we can’t ignore the battalion. They must be highly trained if they’re coming in that fast.”

  “Meanwhile, we have numbers, but we’re a composite unit… Could be tough.”

  Purely from a numbers standpoint, the new enemy battalion was a grave threat. There was no doubting the fact that a fresh battalion would be a hard fight for two tired battalions. Conversely, you could say a hard fight was as difficult as it would get. That was what they were thinking.

  “So the Republic, the Commonwealth, and the Entente Alliance all have different combat doctrines, huh?”

  What the Commonwealth men were most worried about was the possibility that even if they all joined forces, they wouldn’t be able to cooperate well. The Republic and the Commonwealth were secretly fighting together, but as long as there was intelligence they couldn’t share, there would be major losses.

  The Republic (to whom the Entente Alliance had cried and who was now asking for help itself) and the Commonwealth (which was gathering intelligence for war with the Empire on its mind) had gotten very out of step. Today they were extra conscious of that fact.

  “If our coordination gets disrupted, we might have to split up.”

  No matter what the Republic and Entente Alliance did, the Commonwealth was loath to give up its neutral status; even when it did join a war, it did so with caution.

  The Republic and Entente Alliance would bad-mouth the Commonwealth, saying it had a tendency to conserve power or that it only fought to test a new weapon in actual combat. But were those really insults? The officers had to wonder. The state wanted to keep casualties to a minimum.

  “It will take some time, but a reorganized battalion might be able to come help.”

  Naturally, the Commonwealth’s voluntary army—full of soldiers who signed themselves up—didn’t want to break through if it meant a high number of casualties. After all, they had to buy the indispensable time for their home country to switch over to the wartime system. Though they had numerical superiority, never for a moment did they want to fight head-to-head on a battlefield where a Named was coming to meet them.

  And when she had an Imperial Army unit as backup, it was time to start considering withdrawal, but they couldn’t ignore the fact that they had sacrificed so much to disrupt enemy logistics.

  “I guess in the worst case, we’ll smash the position using just the bombers?”

  So accomplishing the minimum goal would depend on the bombers.

  They were bombing a fuel depot. Even a small number of successful attacks could get them great results. And if they failed, the planes they were leasing to the Entente Alliance were old models that the Commonwealth wouldn’t use anyway—something they thought but couldn’t say.

  “I’m against that. If fighter planes intercepted, we’re liable to sustain more damage than we can brush off.”

  “Can’t high-speed bombers shake them off?”

  “The Republic already tried it and got burned, so I’m against it.”

  “In that case, we need to eliminate the enemy mages somehow.”

  “We stand a lot to gain from that. I guess we have no choice.”

  They pretended to worry about the bombers for appearances. Really, they just had to make remarks for the record. After all, everyone knew the “high-speed” bombers they had provided moved dirt slow.

  “The issue is the ability of the Named and the unknown battalion. It would be great if the bombers could take care of them…”

  Those were their true feelings on the matter, a boorish hope that the enemy would overexert themselves attending to the bombers.

  At that moment, fate played a trick on them.

  They had taken over a simple, hidden Entente Alliance Army control center used for observing the front line over twenty kilometers ahead and giving direction. But they had forgotten something. They had forgotten that twenty kilometers was not much distance at all to a mage.

  “What? For real?! There’s no mistake?!”

  Suddenly the CP officer on control duty jumped up, turned pale, and shouted into the radio. A moment later, a number of other officers stood with equally bloodless faces.

  “This is α Battalion! This is urgent! What the—?! Recommend taking shelter!”

  “Kill the power! We’re getting traced!”

  Everyone was shouting at practically the same time.

  “I’m getting a strong mana signal from the Named! She’s rapidly deploying a magic bombardment formula!” Then the controller started shrieking, and the panic escalated.

  We’re getting traced? A warning to take shelter from α Battalion…? A strong mana signal?

  “What? She can’t hit us from there!”

  “Take shelter! Take shelter!”

  A few of the officers kicked aside the idiots who instinctively denied the necessity of the warning, ran for the dugout, and were blown away a moment later.

  ALTITUDE 9,500, IN THE WAR ZONE AHEAD OF THE SUPPLY DEPOT

  “With his glory like the morning sun, he illuminates the darkness. He is born! Praise the Lord!”

  A converging magic bombardment formula.

  Magic bombardment has the penetration and destructive power of a 28 cm gun. The seven-layer control equation that created it scatters and disappears. For an instant, the battlefield shines with a great light, and then the sound of impact roars through the air.

  “Collapse of surveillance waves confirmed. Elimination of enemy observation unit complete.” At the same time, a noise-heavy report of the effects comes in from her observer, Lieutenant Serebryakov. “Splendid, Major,” she adds, and Tanya has to agree.

  She rarely registers the satisfaction of an attack, but this time she feels it. It goes without saying that she hit her target. And it had to be quite a blow to them. In any case, this fundamental part of any mage battle, eliminating the enemy observation personnel, had gone quite smoothly.

  The victims were either amateurs, or they were awfully confident in their dugouts, but they had been putting out powerful surveillance waves like crazy, so they had been discovered right away. Compared to the Republican Army, which was mainly a passive receiver of waves, they were quite easy to find.

  Apparently, the Entente Alliance’s army continues to be qualitatively inferior. You wouldn’t normally actively emit surveillance waves unless you were at a distance in a control unit where you could easily escape, or at least a surface surveillance train.

  How dumb are they to blithely observe from a fixed position?

  That’s Tanya’s judgment coming from experience. It seems luck is with her. She balls her little hands up and enjoys it.

  “Enemy transmissions dramatically increased. Multiple calls from mages confirmed. You must have hit their Combat Direction Center.”

  The report from her subordinate observer only deepens her belief. She has definitely, without a doubt, blown away the enemy controllers. Knowing the implications of that, she triumphantly raises her rifle and crows.

  Even just looking from a distance, she is satisfied to see the enemy formations begin to waver—an indication of the shock they just received.

  “Okay, we definitely got them, right? Then let’s move in.”

  Normally, engaging the enemy
in an airspace of their choosing with a numerically inferior force is out of the question. I would stubbornly refuse. But once the enemy’s head is blown off, that’s a different story. A conservative description of the units fighting in the air would be chaos. The job of maintaining discipline and turning this into organized combat is too big for their frontline commander to handle.

  No matter how outstanding the commander, once combat devolves into a brawl, it’s impossible to keep an eye on the entire situation. There are limits to how much a commander can monitor their unit while engaged in dogfighting. On that point, Tanya is thankful for the Imperial Army’s combat doctrine. Its mission-oriented beliefs mean that if an officer has good subordinates, they don’t need to hold their hands and show them how to shoot.

  Of course, the 203rd Aerial Mage Battalion is receiving a minimum of direction, including navigation support, from Norden Control. A war without Control is just a crude dogfight between isolated mages.

  After all, without Control to keep the necessary order, you’re left with individual mages flying around. Power that can’t be harnessed isn’t much of a threat.

  “Pixie 01 to all hands. Enemy Control has been eliminated.”

  We are lucky the linchpin of the enemy command scheme gave away its position. You never know till you try, so she had thrown out the bombardment and blown them away with ease…apparently.

  Now the enemy is no longer units but a mob of individuals. Mages without their CP are like a pack of Don Quixotes each fighting their own battles.

  “Pixie 01 to CP. Send the status of the enemies you spotted.”

  “CP, roger. The remaining enemies are flying at 6,500 feet. Looks like the vanguard is about a reserve regiment’s worth. Two companies guarding them. They also have bombers. No sign of reinforcements.”

  The situation is exactly what it looks like. The only enemies who can engage with us right now are the disheveled troops directly before us. Normally, enemy control would have any number of options how to proceed, like sending the escorts ahead to shore up the disordered vanguard.

  But now none of them know what to do—they’re panicking. Entente Alliance and Republican mages, I’ve noticed, have a tendency to be overly specialized in group combat.

  The mages of our Imperial Army’s pride, the 203rd Aerial Mage Battalion, who somehow cheerfully survived their hellish training, should be able to overpower them. At the very least, they probably won’t hold me back, so I can use them as a shield with no problems.

  And this time we also have the wonderful addition of enemy bombers. If I take them down, I can expect a raise and other perks, according to air force regulations.

  Ah, this really is great. Tanya unconsciously gives her lips a vulgar lick.

  For once, she’s in a situation that is virtually blue ocean. It has to be her efforts day after day that have created such a blessed environment. As in Dacia, fate, or the law of cause and effect or whatever, is finally on my side. I’m willing to stick with the hypothesis that Being X is evil, but I’m in a good enough mood to argue that a benevolent entity might exist.

  “First, Second, and Third Companies, hunt the two enemy vanguard battalions. Fourth Company, with me.”

  We aren’t lacking a necessary cause to act. I’m the commander of the battalion, the one who leads.

  To put it bluntly, my attitude is more or less Maybe I’ll end up fighting myself at some point. I can push the annoying job of dealing with enemy units onto my underlings.

  Or rather, that’s what they’re there for. I want my subordinates to give it their all so I can think about more important things.

  The Imperial Army General Staff has invested a lot in these guys. It’s not my money, but it is taxpayers’ money, so I’ve done my best to put it to wise use. I don’t want to do anything that would make me look inept, and though taxes are a sort of evil, I’d like to atone for it by using the funds in a meaningful way.

  For that reason, I need to show that the investment was worth their while. Most of all, I don’t want to be branded all talk and sent to the front lines as punishment. So I’ll leverage my position and make my subordinates do the tough stuff.

  There’s a right man for every job, you know. Since they like war so much, I’m sure they’ll be happy to do it. I intend to make my way to the rear with a record of discovering and recommending talent. This is the ideal win-win scenario. It’s fair to call it truly wonderful.

  “Fourth Company, we’re going to strike the escorts and the bombers. After that, we’ll go around the back of the other fight and pincer those two battalions.”

  For the time being, I take Fourth Company as my escort and initiate maneuvers to take the rear. I want to avoid any danger spots, so under the pretense of a detour, I put off some fighting. First, I want to see how they do against my subordinates. If the enemy seems stronger than expected, I’ll abort the roundabout sneak attack and head back to assist the rest of the troops. My insurance is all in place.

  “That’s it for the battle plan. That said, gentlemen…”

  The Northern Army Group is watching, so I need to show them this frontline commander’s fighting spirit.

  This’ll make us look like an army.

  A resolute commander with a loud voice and an offensive mind-set will silence any meaningless criticism.

  Just look at the loudmouth Tsuji. He indiscriminately ground down talent, caused a catastrophe, and still got promoted.

  “Though your job is to stop them, you don’t have to wait for me by any means. I don’t mind at all if you defeat them.”

  If things get bad, I’ll use the Tsuji doctrine to protect myself. For better or worse, after World War II, that guy brilliantly managed to avoid war crime prosecution. Even if I can’t imitate his shameless nerve, there are still things I can learn from him.

  He could have been a corporate warrior who would have forever been waging internal company battles with his demonic drive for promotion. Well, I don’t actually want to be that kind of person. This world is rather impossible for good citizens like me—I have shame and a conscience.

  “Also, when we get back, whichever company gets the worst results will have their commander treat the rest of us to a party. I ordered some twenty-five-year-old wine, so fight hard if you don’t want to go bankrupt!”

  Thus, I came up with an elegant way to get around socialization expenditures. Associating with one’s subordinates is part of a boss’s job, but I hate getting my expenses audited for no reason. Take that guy, for example. Tsuji was really picky about inspecting for improper spending. He would find people’s weaknesses that way.

  What you can learn from that is that armies and companies aren’t so different from one another. Improper spending on entertainment will affect your future career. So I’ll use my subordinates’ money—just below the threshold of power harassment.

  Furthermore, though in society it’s generally accepted that children aren’t allowed to drink wine, if one of my brothers-in-arms offered me some, and I can’t refuse, perhaps the army would look the other way. The thought that I might finally get to have wine brings tears to my eyes.

  ““““Understood!””””

  “Good. Now then, gentlemen. Do your duty for the emperor and the fatherland.”

  I don’t have a lick of love or respect for the emperor, and as for the fatherland, I just hope I get benefits commensurate with the taxes I pay. But the state does give me my soldier’s pension and other various allowances. Then again, this place sadly seems to be in the strategic position Germany was in during the First World War…

  Ahh, what a tragedy. I feel like I’m at a company guaranteed to go bankrupt. Or like an employee who is going to be worn down to nothing at an office with abhorrent working conditions. There’s no way to win here.

  I’d like to submit my voluntary resignation and transfer to a better company. In the worst case, I would even be ready to bring a labor suit.

  But betraying the army during a wa
r would come with all sorts of troublesome issues. Who would trust a whistle-blower like that? Even if they promise freedom of belief, nobody would want to take on a hard-core leftist activist in a million years.

  Thinking logically, only an idiot would risk betrayal if the returns aren’t guaranteed to be worth it. What’s more, it would be difficult to protect myself when I’ve already done so much killing in this war.

  My position is somewhat like a sniper’s. If the war ends and I can be safely demobilized, that’s great, but on the off chance I find myself having to surrender, there’s a good chance I’d be shot on the spot. In a word, I’m buying my enemy’s enmity at limit up.

  “Let’s teach those Entente Alliance mopes and the rest of them a lesson. They don’t get it when you only put it in words.”

  Actually, I tried to get them to surrender once, and I couldn’t get through to them at all. Hideously enough, they’re people without a shred of economic sense. If they like war so much, they should just split their country in half and fight among themselves.

  But apparently, the Republic and the Entente Alliance are really into involving others. Talk about a pain in the neck. They’re beyond saving if they ignore the balance between public matters and personal freedom by causing other folks trouble. I’d like them to think a bit about what a nuisance they are to the average person.

  “We’re gonna bring an iron hammer down on them from the heavens. They’re about to learn how powerless they really are.” If we can’t leisurely attack them from high in the sky, I won’t be able to take this.

  For now, we have the bandwidth to spare, but this really isn’t good for my heart.

  The only time I’m thankful for this little body is when the enemy is aiming at it and having trouble hitting. A wise man once said, “They call bullets slugs because they pack a punch.” Well, I don’t want to get shot.

  “First, Second, and Third Companies, go on ahead. We’ll go around and strike from behind.”

  That’s why into the most risky situations—with the greatest potential for achievement—I send the volunteers.