by Carlo Zen
“Damned Devil of the Rhine!”
“Cut it out. Captain Cagire, who is the Devil of the Rhine?”
“An unknown enemy Named. We can currently identify them only by their magic signature.”
The intelligence officer had paled at the sudden question. If they were only able to identify this enemy by magic signature alone, that meant they knew nothing. This was as good as admitting to the other high-ranking officers present that everyone in Intelligence was incompetent.
They could get the gist of what had happened by analyzing the logs of the computation orbs used in battle. In other words, either the intelligence officers had neglected their duties or nothing had been recorded.
“Did you analyze the logs?” The chief of staff, who was running the meeting, asked the obvious question. Essentially, Are you bastards so inept that you couldn’t even do that much?!
“We’ve inspected seventeen, mainly from recovered orbs of mages who were shot down, and the survivors have all been debriefed.” The response from Intelligence, however, made it clear that they had done a proper job. They were the ones who sent the notice that an unconfirmed mage had inflicted heavy damage.
They formed a special task force and even launched an operation to retrieve the bodies of fallen mages who hadn’t been recovered. As a result of that effort, they were able to recover a number of computation orbs and investigate the wreckage to see if there was any salvageable data.
…But they didn’t find anything useful.
They had a mountain of evidence indicating the mystery mage’s existence, but they had no idea what he was like.
“…So only a magic signature? What does that mean?”
“Almost no one survived an encounter close enough to see him. The majority of people who lived were shot down while they were still outside of firing range.”
Every mage that approached the Devil was hit with enough force to leave them with full-body burns. When the computation orbs were retrieved afterward, the tough outer shells had melted, and their cores were damaged. To inflict that level of damage with conventional weapons, you’d have to pull out either the big guns or a metric ton of explosives.
There was a mage out there who could both eliminate opponents at close quarters with overwhelming firepower and snipe precisely at great distances. This Named had been classified as a strategic-level threat, and although they didn’t know the mage’s identity, they had registered the Devil of the Rhine in their library by magic signature alone.
The “Devil” alias was given out of the hatred and fear of an opponent they couldn’t see. And it had only been two months since the first sighting in this theater. Yes, if the records were correct, the Devil had been deployed just as the Republican Army had attacked, and had already scored more than sixty.
Troops on the front line had even sent an earnest request for a Named extermination squad composed of their own elites.
“Moving on, this is footage recorded by a computation orb moments before it failed. Miraculously, the member of the 106th it belongs to survived.”
The video showed an enemy figure casually evading the volley fire of an entire company. The shots seemed so unlikely to connect that everyone wondered what the soldiers were aiming at. Incredibly, despite the cross fire, the enemy was flying so calmly it looked almost graceful.
“…Is that…dancing?” The movements were so mesmerizing that someone murmured unknowingly.
A spectacular amount of magic glow filled the air, but the enemy dodged its many sources with elegant ease. Irritatingly, not a single shot seemed to hit.
They didn’t know who had come up with the alias, but Devil of the Rhine was very fitting. No ordinary person could weave through a setup like that and fight back without seeming to be in any danger.
“Is that mage too quick for our disciplined fire to land any shots?”
“Could their mobility really be that much better than ours?”
The Republican Army had developed their fire discipline in response to the known superiority of imperial mages. Working as a team, its troops could shoot down the overconfident enemy mages who tended to stick out.
Although it was a doctrine premised on numerical superiority, the Republican Army considered it a solution. It figured there wasn’t a mage in the world who could stay in the air once the barrage began.
“The Devil evaded spatial detonations, too. Most likely after detecting the attack during early targeting and getting out of there with no time to spare.”
“You mean the enemy performed evasive maneuvers in a few seconds or less? Wouldn’t that mean this mage could dodge all guided magic attacks?”
The basic concept in disciplined fire was to use a large volley of guided missiles to severely limit the enemy’s ability to evade and try to get a direct hit. At the same time, the unit would estimate the velocity of their opponent and use exploding formulas along a wide area in their flight path to catch them.
If they couldn’t lock on to or measure their opponent, however, it would be almost impossible to shoot effectively. They fought like a team—organized and continually coordinated. In other words, against an opponent on whom those tactics didn’t work, there were far fewer benefits to fighting in groups, though not zero.
The officers in the meeting gasped as their chests tightened. Not only had the observed mana value of the enemy computation orb gone way past the limit, but the mana was reducing—concentrating—and amplifying. Collisions of mana triggered by overlapping compound interference were creating…multiple glows?!
A single imperial mage had called on enough mana for several casters.
“The observation apparatus also returned a value that was off the scale.”
“Absurd! If that’s the case—”
His comment cut off abruptly. They were all witnessing data that indicated a mana fixation reaction was occurring. The immeasurable profusion of mana denoted a phenomenon that mages and nations had attempted to achieve but finally given up on.
In theory, it was impossible for a cast mana phenomenon to access spatial coordinates. Attempting fixation was madness. Nobody thought it could be done.
“…It can’t be! Impossible!”
The technology officer, who understood the significance better than anyone else, began denying reality, as if he had come unhinged. This was no longer mage technology but something from the realm of myths.
“If ye come to disrespect the fatherland, we shall pray unto God.”
The zoomed-in figure shocked them all. The picture may have been blurry and full of static, but what it showed was unmistakable.
“…It’s a child!”
The mage could still be described as quite young, yet she proclaimed annihilation and doom. Together with the mana reading, her cry was an omen of destruction.
Supposing this god you pray to exists—is it the devil or the god of destruction? Everyone cradled their heads, inspired to cling to the Lord.
“O Lord, save the fatherland. O Lord, grant me the strength to defeat my nation’s enemies.”
However, the sentiments were pure. Her gaze was utterly innocent. Could she really be an enemy mage? She was only looking to God for help.
“Save us from the heathen invasion. O God, grant me the strength to slay our enemies.”
Should we really not be allowed to exist? they wanted to ask. Her gaze was that pious and judging.
“Attention! You are trespassing on the Empire’s territory.”
She spoke with the solemnity of a shrine maiden delivering a divine message.
“We will do our utmost to defend our fatherland, because behind us are people we must protect.”
What she said was backed by a sense of responsibility. It was as if defense was her only duty. And they could feel her fervid desire to protect the ones behind her.
It was to fulfill that duty that she had stood before them.
“Answer me this. Why do you wish to invade the Empire, our homeland?”
“O saints, believe in the blessings of our Lord. Let us be fearless.”
But reality was cruel. Fate was not on their side. Assuming God existed, he was smiling on her.
“Lament not your fate. Oh, the Lord has not forsaken us!”
The converging mana suddenly began to flood the observation apparatus with noise. That meant there was enough mana accumulated to agitate space.
“At the distant end of our journey, let us reach the promised land.”
It was as if her words were both the key and Pandora’s open box. The officers watching stopped thinking entirely as the monitor emitted a dreadful flash. Eventually, the computation orb was damaged, and the video cut off.
“…Dear God, have mercy on our souls.”
O God, is this…what you wanted?
[chpater] IV War College
IMPERIAL WAR COLLEGE ADMISSIONS COMMITTEE
“It’s the appointed time, so I’d like to begin the Imperial War College Admission Committee’s third round of reviews.” An instructor from the war college is leading the meeting, and the row of committee members are all talented key figures in the army. The Empire has a long tradition of investing people and time in the selection of next-generation leaders.
The result is outstanding commanders at every level trained to a high standard of excellence.
“Today we’ll be reviewing candidates up for reexamination.”
For that reason, war college admissions are discussed as a matter linked directly to national strategy and defense. Naturally, they spare no effort to discover the ideal candidates, considering multiple future placement options during the process.
The army values diversity, so the committee holds second and third rounds of review with different members for candidates who don’t pass. It would be a horrible loss for the Empire if an exceptional candidate were dismissed as unfit.
And history has proven that this process is the correct one.
Many people, including distinguished officers of both the army and navy, have become central figures in the armed forces thanks to the multiple stages of assessment. General Möltke the Great is such a fine commander that the reviewer who selected him said the greatest accomplishment of his military life was “discovering the magnificent Möltke the Great,” but he still received severe criticism to the tune of “I can’t imagine this candidate becoming a soldier” and only barely managed to squeak by in the third round.
“As usual, I hope we can make this a lively debate and hear from the perspectives of the front lines, the General Staff, and the war college.”
And the Imperial War College traditionally chooses to downplay the question of how many rounds it takes someone to pass.
Two recent examples are Zettour and Rudersdorf, both selected in the second round. There were apprehensions that the former was “too scholarly and thus not suited to becoming a general,” while the latter, despite being acknowledged as “sharp and dynamic,” was criticized for his “tendency to daydream.” Both of them were accepted after those remarks were made.
Nevertheless, the two of them are now treated as geniuses and entrusted with the future of the army, so much so that they are on the admissions committee. Due to cases like these, it is even said that candidates who pass in the first screening, with its very general standards, won’t amount to very much.
The army is thorough, as evidenced by the way they weed out mere dogmatists and allow people who are dropped in the first round to be accepted in the second or third rounds.
“We’ll start with the request submitted by Major von Lergen from Personnel to reassess a candidate who passed in the first round.”
The Empire is so thorough that a candidate accepted in the first round would normally never be deemed unfit.
That’s why everyone is so confused.
For a moment, no one can help but look at the presiding war college instructor with bafflement. The request is to reassess a candidate who already passed the first round and doesn’t even require a second. What exactly is Major von Lergen trying to say? The war college instructor has to continue the meeting, but he probably doesn’t know himself.
“During the first screening, which is done anonymously to ensure impartiality, the candidate up for review was given a ‘superior’ rating.”
The first screening consists of multiple reviewers examining documents from which all personal information about the candidates has been omitted. The reviewers are given only a list of the candidates’ achievements and evaluations from their academic advisors and Intelligence. That eliminates any bias, which makes it possible to examine the candidates more or less accurately.
Eventually the personal information would be released, and the committee would make the final decision on which officers would advance along the army’s elite track. The screenings have to be strict and fair. Naturally, receiving the best evaluation possible means the candidate lacks nothing, according to the army.
“But the major has objections and has requested a reassessment. We’re holding this review in response to that request.”
The comment indirectly implies that he finds it hard to understand why the reassessment is happening. In all reality, if the request hadn’t come from a section chief in Personnel who was able to investigate candidates in more detail, it would most likely never have gone through.
Previous disputes regarding the suitability of first-round admissions took issue with how ordinary the candidates were. That’s why it’s no surprise the instructor sounds skeptical. Very few officers received “excellent” scores in their anonymous evaluations, much less “superior”—Major von Lergen is raising doubts about the top nominee.
If the candidate were the child of an influential officer or someone with noble connections, it might make more sense to worry about bias. Cases of suspected favoritism are rare, but they are not unheard of.
The candidate in question, however, is the orphan of a soldier. It goes without saying, then, that there are no influential relatives. The ones who made the recommendations had no prior relationship with the candidate; neither were there any ties to factions or nobility. Not only that, all the recommending officers were straitlaced veterans who had achieved much in the field and never caused any problems.
Closing the door on a self-made officer with such outstanding records is not in keeping with the tradition of the military. Everyone turns to Major von Lergen for explanation.
“Major von Lergen, I’m curious to know what criteria informed your decision. Looking at the records, I can only conclude he’s a fantastic candidate.” He sounds somewhat amused, but Brigadier General von Rudersdorf is voicing the question on everyone’s minds: Why? “Given the recommendation from his unit, his standing at the academy, the background check from Intelligence, the military police investigation report, and his achievements, this officer is exceptional. I wonder what the problem is.”
Recommendations for achievement exist to select distinguished officers. Young—fledgling, really—officers are chosen in the hopes that making the best use of the army’s talent will result in many future benefits.
The candidate’s unit recommendation consisted of unreserved praise. Academic records revealed a slight lack of practical training compared to some candidates, but superior combat experience made up for that. In terms of simply fitting the requirements, this officer was worthy of being considered a top candidate. And in fact, the review score was nearly perfect.
Even Intelligence and the military police, who were usually so particular, both came back with the highest praise. How many times had that ever happened?
“Hmm, how to say…? I believe, and I think many of you agree, that he’s one of the most promising candidates we’ve had in recent years—uncommonly good.” In other words, even Brigadier General von Rudersdorf, who prides h
imself being contrary, has a hard time understanding why such a great candidate would be doubted. If the reassessment request hadn’t come from one of the top elites in Personnel, who was known for his intolerance of flaws, everyone would have shouted him down.
“True, the candidate has performed at the highest level in every area, but nevertheless, I find this a difficult one to admit.” Major von Lergen, however, declares that he asked for the reassessment despite acknowledging all the candidate’s strengths.
“He came in second in his class, hasn’t made any trouble for the military police, and according to Intelligence, he’s a patriot. And they guarantee he can uphold confidentiality. He even got a recommendation from his combat unit!”
Naturally, to the committee, Lergen’s objection can only be a joke. To preserve candidate anonymity, decorations and what years they attended the academy were redacted, but this one’s records are such that they practically guarantee an award of Aerial Field Service Badge or better.
After all, a recommendation from a combat unit requires excellence of both character and skills.
“If we drop this candidate, we won’t be able to admit any new students this year.” The solemn comment accurately represents nearly the entire committee’s thoughts. Brilliant is the only word to describe a candidate with such ability, achievements, and evaluations. If they were to throw out this one, they would have to disqualify everyone else as well.
“I’ve decided to make an exception and reveal the identity of the candidate this time. Take a look at this.” Unable to let things go on like this, the chief of general affairs in Personnel hands out the document in question. As a rule, candidates remain anonymous for reviews, but he has the authority to reveal their identities if circumstances warrant it.
He doesn’t know Lergen well, but he wants to at least give him a hand, even if he’s basically doing it in good faith to safeguard the major’s career.
