Deus lo Vult

by Carlo Zen

  “Will you pass up the chance to break free of this encirclement, if only partially?”

  “If we could weaken the Entente Alliance, we would be able to concentrate more on the east. And to the west, we could mount a somewhat less tense line of defense against Albion, François.”

  But they continued their arguments one after the other with no end in sight. The debate stemmed from the General Staff’s inescapable desire to seize this opportunity; they could finally break free of their stalemated country’s defense strategy. If we act now—if we act right now, for the first time since the founding of the Empire—we could resolve our military problems in one fell swoop.

  “Fortunately, none of the powerhouses show any indications of mobilizing. I believe that if we act now, we can eliminate the root of the Empire’s problems.”

  They had no way of knowing whether or not this decision was for the best—at least not at this point in time.

  [chapter] II The Elinium Type 95 Computation Orb

  AIRSPACE OVER KRUSKOS ARMY AIR CORPS TESTING LAB

  The skies above the Kruskos Army Air Corps Testing Lab, southwest of imperial capital Berun, are noisy as always.

  Orb and scepter once brought about miracles that were recorded only in lore. Now, thanks to scientific investigation of these myths, it has become possible to replicate those marvels, and thus modern magicology was born. The field discovered a method for changing the world through the use of computation orbs. In a physical world bound by three dimensions, the technology actualizes phenomena by applying the appropriate amount of stimulus to the right location. To give a simple example, you can flick the flint wheel of a lighter with your hand, or you can do it with the power of magic. Once you understand the mechanics, it’s possible to reproduce any number of magical wonders. Yes, magic has become a technology.

  Naturally, the principles of the fundamental elements, such as mana and interference formulas, are still not very well understood. Magic engineering was pushed to achieve remarkable progress in order to secure military advantages and established as an academic field following a decisive breakthrough in the Empire. By combining mana with an analog arithmetic unit, they created computation orbs. Unlike in the age of legends, it’s clear what locations, methods, and degrees of power are required to cast magic.

  The quintessence of this technology would probably be its practical application in aviation formulas that allow a mage to levitate without a vehicle. By generating propulsion, it thrusts the operator into the air and keeps them balanced. If they feel like it, mages can mimic witches riding on broomsticks. Rifles with fixed bayonets are more convenient than scepters as focuses for casting. Well, firearms are also good for shooting battle formulas in long-range combat.

  In any case, engineers replicated miracles with technology. An extremely wide range of militaristic applications was also recognized. The importance of the orbs had been widely acknowledged for a long time, which is why the technology race between the world powers grew so fierce.

  As the pioneer in the field, the Empire naturally participated in that race.

  It’s a day with clear skies but strong winds. My current altitude is four thousand and climbing. Roughly half of the scheduled tests for the day are done. My situation is more favorable than last time, when I nearly died after my parachute failed to open due to humidity, but I’m not in the mood for this—especially not under such demanding conditions where a slight lapse in concentration could cause the computations to fail and the orb’s engine to catch fire.

  Fighting to keep my face from twitching, I cautiously maintain a cruising ground speed according to the plan. As long as I keep clearing tests without incident, I have to keep going. And that means ascending.

  Yes, I have to continue climbing using the “new model”: an absolutely unreliable, horribly flawed prototype orb.

  Is this the joy of holding the world in your hands? The access to the world’s laws that the orb symbolizes is an elaborate operation that demands finesse. Under orders to oversee that process—using something that has no tolerance requires the utmost care—Tanya is getting her hand ripped to shreds.

  If it weren’t for advances in medical science, she would be stuck spending her life with only her left arm.

  Holding an unreliable orb isn’t much different from holding a grenade. The end result is obvious. That’s why Second Lieutenant Degurechaff is so loath to be doing this. She heaves an inward sigh as she flies.

  “The engine exploded! It’s on fire! Abort the test! Abort the test!”

  Yet another day of piercing shouts from Control and Tanya’s agonizing groans echoing across the sky.

  How did I wind up in this mess? It goes back to when I was ordered to the rear after getting injured in the north.

  Second Lieutenant Tanya Degurechaff was still recovering at the time, and she considered where she would be reinstated a matter of life and death. She had fought hard, creating something of a war record for herself, and even received a medal… That could be beneficial for my future promotion, but it entailed the delicate problem of potentially trapping Tanya on the front lines.

  “I’ll review it now.”

  So when I received an envelope and opened it, the thought running through my mind was I just hope they don’t redeploy me to the front. But my fears turned out to be unfounded. The envelope contained a document from Personnel with undated orders for domestic service. In other words, the orders weren’t official, but they would take effect once dated and signed by a superior officer. This was the so-called informal job offer by army standards.

  “Rejoice. It’s unofficial notice of your domestic assignment with the combat instructor unit, along with a request that you be lent out to headquarters as technology inspection personnel.”

  In sum, the proposal wasn’t bad. In fact, it was rather ideal: a domestic position that was, for all intents and purposes, rear service. But the instructor unit and tester positions were still associated with a strong career path. She could tell they held her in high regard.

  Most importantly, getting assigned to the domestic combat instructor unit had many benefits. As the Imperial Army’s most elite group, not only were its members given the best equipment, but it was also a holy land for combat research. The unit was a great place for me to hone her skills—an excellent environment for improving the chances of survival as much as possible. Even if Tanya had to teach, it was a perfect position from which to steal other people’s techniques. To top it off, an attachment to the instructor unit would be no stain on her record.

  The vague temporary transfer request to serve as technology inspection personnel for headquarters wasn’t so bad, either. Headquarters was practically the epitome of rear services. As long as I was a tech verifier there, I could hide out in the rear behind the excuse of conducting tests.

  If there was anything to nitpick about, it would be that a position in the Railroad Department or General Staff was even more preferable due to the low probabilities of accidents in both. But it was such a minor difference, the compromise seemed more than acceptable.

  “I intend to respect your wishes as much as possible, but is it safe to assume there are no objections?”

  Perhaps the commander respected Tanya’s wishes as a matter of form, but in reality, the decision had already been made. There was no expectation that she would reject the offer. It would be inexcusable to turn down the positions after they had been served up on a silver platter. The only three options were “yes,” “oui,” or “ja.”

  “Yes, I have no complaints. I humbly accept my deployment orders.”

  “Excellent. You will test a new model at Supply and Logistics Headquarters. As a formality, you will transfer there from the instructor unit,” the commander said before scribbling my acceptance onto the document. He proceeded to sign off on the orders and hand them back; on paper, my transfer was complete at that point. How efficient. Perhaps the whole “unofficial notice” was a formality in its own right.
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br />   “Nonetheless, I’m sure you must have some things you want to ask. Permission for questions granted.”

  I always love a sensible superior. He deserved my admiration.

  “I appreciate it. In that case, first I’d like to ask why you went to the effort of assigning me to the instructor unit.”

  Normally, wouldn’t a position at headquarters be good enough? I couldn’t help but wonder.

  Of course, I was more than happy to have a career in the instructor unit, but I was keen to figure out the politics and circumstances that led to Personnel giving Tanya not one but two great positions. I didn’t want to accidentally step in a pile of trouble later and take a nasty spill. But the answer to Tanya’s question was quite simple, if exasperating.

  “Ace or not, sending a child to the front is bad for optics.”

  …I knew the brass were a bit slow, but it took them that long to catch on? I’m technically a child. Meaning I should be cared for. Apparently, the bigwigs had finally woken up and smelled common sense.

  “So you’re telling an ace to go be a decoration in the rear?”

  Obviously, showing too much enthusiasm over getting away from the front lines would be bad, but I needed to confirm the situation. If things were going the way I hoped, I would be set with optimum conditions for her survival plan. Wonderful. Truly wunderbar. Right then, I felt as though I could reach an understanding with all the people of the world. I was so thrilled behind Tanya’s cool expression that it made me worried that I might get strange ideas.

  “What a novel opinion, Lieutenant. It never would have occurred to me.”

  With those words, Tanya was confident her predictions were on the mark. I didn’t know what the higher-ups were after, but at least the superior officer before her hadn’t denied her conjecture. That meant she was probably in the clear. The safety of service in the rear was truly wonderful.

  “Do excuse me.”

  “The higher-ups think highly of you. That’s why they’ve made you a position in charge of developing the new model.”

  Actually, it was within the realm of common consideration from Personnel to assign a capable mage back from the front to instruction or tech development. In that sense, it was a plausible reason for transferring a young soldier from the front. Probably anyone in the army would accept it without issue.

  I’d caught a break, but still, what was this about a new model? I doubted they would use Tanya as a guinea pig, but at least it would be reassuring to know what kind of technology she would be inspecting.

  “May I inquire about the new model?”

  If he said it was confidential, I would simply have to back down. Still, I needed a certain level of preparedness. You take far less damage when you have warning before you get hit, as opposed to a punch out of the blue. In order to personally brace for what was coming, I wanted to know what Tanya was getting into.

  Not to mention I was terribly curious.

  “Hmm, I was only told it’s a prototype computation orb.”

  “I see. Thank you.”

  All of those things wound up to be undeniably true. Tanya is in the safety of the rear conducting various tests on a new computation orb. Her commander never told a single lie. But neither did he mention that the orb is as unreliable as an Italian “Red Devil.”9

  And that’s why I’m suffering like this now.

  At twelve thousand feet in airspace southwest of imperial capital Berun, I’ve already broken the maximum operating altitude for existing computation orbs. Without an orb specially outfitted for the single-minded pursuit of record altitudes, operating this high up shouldn’t be possible. The oxygen concentration is distressing, and if that isn’t bad enough, my body temperature is seriously low.

  Taking so much time to acclimate at 6,800 has come back to bite me. Humans aren’t designed to survive for this long so high up.

  “Lieutenant Degurechaff, are you conscious? Lieutenant Degurechaff?”

  With a heavy head and a leaden, sluggish body from the low oxygen level, even just responding to Control over the radio seems like a horrible bother. Even dressed for the cold, I can only conduct experiments at this altitude carrying an oxygen tank, an aerial radio, and an emergency parachute.

  A single thought fills Tanya’s mind: Whoever thought it’s a good idea to send an unprotected human this high should come see what it’s like for themselves.

  “More or less, but I won’t last long. Frankly, I’ve concluded that it’s impossible to go any higher unprotected.”

  It’s a good 21.6 degrees colder than on the ground. Oxygen concentration is just under 63 percent. Whether or not someone can temporarily withstand this altitude for air combat maneuvering is unclear, but it’s a space that’s definitely not for humans. The typical computation orb has a maximum operating altitude of six thousand feet in the first place. Any higher and it can’t produce the propulsion necessary to break free of gravity.

  This is why Tanya estimates that mages have roughly the same level of air superiority as an assault helicopter. In fact, the gap in altitude has even convinced the Empire that combat between mages and aircraft is unrealistic. The barrier it presents is that insurmountable.

  Of course, if the concern is purely altitude, and I have a special orb designed for reaching record-breaking heights, things might be different; however, what Tanya is currently testing isn’t a specialized tool for exceptional climbing ability but a military tool positioned as the “new model,” created in the pursuit of versatility.

  But even though the new model, Elinium Arms Type 95 computation orb prototype, is intended for the army, it’s creating ludicrous propulsion that usually isn’t even possible. The actual method it uses to do that is extremely simple and cliché. It follows the usual engine development scheme: If one is too weak, use two. If two won’t cut it, use four.

  In the end, minus the “tech research” stamp to indicate that it is indeed a prototype, the orb doesn’t look all that different from any other. Design-wise, it’s still a spherical hunk of machinery the size of a conventional orb, packed with countless gadgets.

  But what really matters is on the inside.

  “Worst of all, this absolutely guzzles mana. Its magic conversion efficiency sucks.”

  Instead of gasoline, computation orbs use mana; a piece of gear with four engines would consume four times the usual amount of mana. But expanding a human’s mana reserve isn’t as easy as installing more fuel tanks, which means the operator will get exhausted much more quickly. Maybe this prototype has revolutionary capabilities according to its specs, but the practicality of an orb that demands the impossible and leaves the mage extraordinarily fatigued is questionable. Not only does it consume four times the mana of a conventional orb, but it’s also hounded by the technical problem of synchronizing its four cores.

  Since the developers have successfully miniaturized the cores, the orb itself is barely any bigger than its peers. Surprisingly, it maintains the same compact size of regular orbs and can fit in a mage’s pocket despite the contents. It’s very easy to handle.

  I have to respect the technology that allowed the researchers to shrink down the cores to such an astonishing degree, but as the one using the orb, all I can comment on is how unbearable it is. Miniaturizing a delicate device means losing whatever tolerances the original had. If tuning the quad-core synchronized activation isn’t bad enough, the shrunken orb cores make for an unreliable system with poor stability.

  So while the mana consumption for this new model should be four times the norm in theory, it actually needed considerably more. Including mana leakage, even a conservative estimate puts the expenditure at six times the usual. While the fact that I’m not used to being this high is probably a major factor, the altitude test alone invariably leaves me feeling horrendously drained, as though I’ve exhausted all my energy in air combat maneuvers. As I rapidly become more fatigued, it’s also getting harder and harder to breathe.

  But upon receiving Tanya
’s bone-weary report, the radio spits back an engineer’s utterly uncaring voice. “Lieutenant, can’t you climb a bit higher? Theoretically, you should be able to get to eighteen thousand.”

  The curse damn mad scientist echoes silently in Tanya’s heart as she scowls instinctively at the command plane carrying the evil mastermind on the radio. I can only imagine how refreshing it would be to shoot it down. Tanya heaves a sigh as she fights the truly tempting urge.

  The voice belongs to Adelheid von Schugel. He is the chief engineer overseeing the prototype, as well as a bona fide mad scientist. It frustrates me that I have to restrain myself from shooting him down because it would only create more problems and resolve none. All Tanya can do is lament life’s absurdity. Getting stuck testing this engineer’s invention is a prime example of that.

  “Dr. von Schugel, please don’t be unreasonable.”

  For a person to climb any higher, they would need heated, not just insulated, clothing. And based on my experience in actual combat, the orb would be rendered impractical the moment I needed to fly with an oxygen tank strapped to my back. It’s obvious that it would only take a single shot to the air supply to give everyone besides Tanya a pretty exciting show.

  Let’s assume a mage uses a formula to generate air and could withstand this upper realm without heated clothing or an oxygen tank. If that output depends on the computation orb, it would make the already inefficient device burn through mana even faster. The possibility of sustained combat operations is exceedingly doubtful with the anticipated level of magic consumption compared to existing orbs, and due to issues such as low oxygen concentration, there’s a high risk of losing consciousness during maneuvers.

  Thus, a parachute is critical, and while that’s fine for conducting flight trials in our own territory, an immobile, barely conscious mage lugging around a parachute is a sitting duck in combat. Even if the operator did reach the ground, their safety wouldn’t be guaranteed. If they landed in enemy territory, they were sure to be taken prisoner.