At the Brink (3)
The Holy Order's army—the Valkyries, seven hundred thousand strong—had formed a defensive line along the borders of Zaive, Molten, and Bornai.
Those three kingdoms were the gateway to the central continent; if even one fell, the army of Hell would keep pushing south and eventually seize the planet's largest continent whole.
'Even with the drafted forces from each nation combined, it's only two million. Pathetically insufficient against Hell's army.'
Amy of the Valkyrie 2nd Corps was preparing to meet the enemy on the Molten Kingdom's current border.
'Can we hold them?'
Intelligence said ten million of Hell's forces were heading for Kashan's capital.
The remaining forty million fanned out like a sector and streamed south without end, due to reach the border within forty-eight hours.
Amy stared at the desert horizon, silvered by moonlight.
Given the worst battle the Order now faced, it was no surprise that Shirone came to her mind.
'Is he all right?'
She had endured merciless training to go from a cadet at the Valkyrie Officer Academy to a battalion commander of a mage unit.
The ideal of saving the world had gradually faded under the agonizing grind of that training.
What kept her going was the desire to grow stronger—to meet Shirone.
'You'll be beyond that horizon.' If she could break through the forty million troops pouring south at that terrifying speed, Shirone would be there.
"You look lost in thought." She turned at the voice; the 2nd Corps commander, Luda Garcia, had come up behind her with his hands clasped behind his back.
"Sir—loyalty!" Amy snapped a salute, but Garcia didn't return it. He only looked toward the horizon.
Understanding what that meant, Amy lowered her hand and spoke softly.
"Master."
The world's greatest flame mage.
He had taken Amy as his disciple to repay a debt owed to Shirone in South Aymond.
'Even getting this far is a miracle.' Garcia's view of Amy had changed considerably since he first met her.
Because the cadets resisted strongly, he had allowed anyone who wanted to study under him to do so.
Six months later, Amy was the only one left at Garcia's side.
'If we can just survive this hell, I don't care about going mad.' That had been her thought.
Garcia had seen her through it and had confirmed her depths.
He had seen everything about Amy—the raw, animalistic, unfiltered side where reason had no place.
'She's strong.'
He remembered when Amy, unable to control her flames, fell into the mud with smoke rising from her body.
Her training clothes had burned away in an instant; she writhed like an insect, hands trapped between her legs.
Garcia had almost given up on her.
"Do you still have any shame left? If you have the energy for that, focus on recovering. If you pass out here, you'll die."
"Ugh… ugh…"
As Garcia approached, Amy instinctively flinched and backed away.
"There's nowhere to run. One step left. If you can't control the flames, this time your life will burn away."
"Wah! Waaaah!"
Garcia—capable of producing flames of extreme heat—heard Amy's sobbing.
'Shirone, am I doing this right?'
From their conversations he learned Amy wanted to grow strong to meet Shirone too.
'I don't fully understand. But one thing is certain: you cannot meet him like this.' Only a very small number of people in the world could withstand the hells of this life on their own.
'I should save this child for his sake…' Yet Amy had become special to him.
He had put her through nearly a year of training so extreme that even he had thought it impossible.
'One more time. Once more and then—'
He had thought there was nothing left but to kill her.
"Sorry. Die."
As the flame-lit hand prepared to strike, Amy cried out between sobs.
"Shirone. Shirone…"
Garcia didn't send the flames because he wanted to spare her; he didn't throw them because this was his last courtesy—he would have killed her otherwise.
"Do you want to meet him? If you dream of a final reunion before you die, I'll stop here."
If she had broken already, it would have been murder.
"I will meet Shirone."
Amy staggered to her feet.
"I will meet him—no matter what."
The blood-red blaze flared fiercely, and the tears in her eyes evaporated in an instant.
Watching that, Garcia reached out his hand.
"Hellfire."
A massive fire erupted across the training ground and then, in an instant, died away.
Garcia looked back at Amy.
When she had entered the academy she had been clumsy, but she had become a woman.
'No wonder the barracks got turned upside down.'
Her natural beauty aside, the composed air she'd earned from surviving hellish training stirred the curiosity of men.
"You're popular, huh."
Amy laughed brightly.
"Haha! Well, it's the army. They'll fawn over a woman just for wearing a skirt."
Garcia snorted.
"I see. Must've been tough."
Her relatively low rank probably made the subordinates comfortable approaching her.
'Who knows how many will die in this war. Ranks will shoot up with achievements.'
That, of course, assumed they could stop Hell's army.
"By the way, Master, what brings you here…?"
"I figured you might be here. Were you missing someone beyond the horizon?"
Amy's face flushed.
"Ah, well…"
"You might meet them. If we win this war."
Her eyes glittered.
"Be proud. Whatever happens, remember what you've accomplished so far."
Because the chain of command was so wide, this might be the last time Garcia saw Amy.
"Yes. We will win."
Garcia ruffled her hair affectionately, and Amy smiled.
"Oh, and it'll be announced tomorrow, but your unit will receive new military equipment. It's a trial run, so test it out."
"New equipment?"
"The Order changed vendors. It's a new company—seems they specialize in magical armaments."
Amy frowned.
"But to change equipment with a war right on the doorstep…"
"It's unusual. But it also suggests the performance is good. Make sure it gets distributed properly to your troops."
If the gear was good, that was fine, but most such deals were collusions between politicians and businessmen.
"What company is it?"
"Nade Ordnance. Come to think of it, your homeland is Tormia, right? Seems the company's from there."
"Nade? Nade Ordnance?"
"Why? Do you know them?"
"Well… I thought it might be someone I know."
"Since it's run by a mage, that's possible. I heard the CEO is very young. Probably around your age."
Amy couldn't shake the thought that Nade might be the person she knew.
'That guy's making war machines?'
By nature he didn't seem like the sort, but given the special circumstances of a war with the demon race, it was plausible.
If the performance proved itself, the company would grow faster than anything else.
'He really is clever.'
Of course he wasn't doing it just for money.
With Iruki active in the Order's military department, he, too, was fighting hard.
'To meet Shirone.'
She wasn't fighting alone.
Satisfied by the sight of Amy smiling, Garcia turned away.
"Make sure you survive, Amy."
"Yes." Her master said the same.
A sheet of paper stamped with the grand heading "Resolution" was passed around the soldiers under the 2nd Corps' mage battalion.
It was an order from the corps commander—write down your wish before the war to strengthen your will to live.
Well-intentioned, but for low-ranking soldiers it was just a tiresome event they'd rather skip for a nap.
"Damn it! I'm about to die and you want a wish? Might as well tell us to write a will."
"You do what you're told. They say units that write good resolutions get special morale performances."
"Yeah, sure. What famous beauties are going to come to this battlefield? Besides, I'm the battalion commander—I don't care who comes."
The mages of Amy's 2nd Company all indicated their agreement with a silence.
"Heh, a wish, huh. If it's something I want to do before I die, there's one thing."
Corporal Berick scribbled something on his resolution.
"Pitch a tent with our battalion commander and stay up all night…"
The comrade beside him read it and his eyes went wide.
"You idiot! If you write that you'll get confined! What if the officers read it?"
"Write it and throw it away. Damn! If we can't even write that, what kind of resolution is this?"
"Tch—"
The company, taut with the stress before battle, erupted into commotion over Berick's sheet.
"Puhahaha! This could be published! Sergeant, read what Berick wrote."
The resolutions circulated back to Berick, and at that moment the barracks tent flap opened.
"Soldiers—attention!"
They straightened instinctively, but the men went pale when they saw Amy.
'Damn, I'm totally busted.'
Amy looked over the troops.
"What's so funny? Is something good happening?"
The squad leader snapped.
"Nothing!"
"Nothing my foot. I thought you were writing resolutions. What's your wish?"
Amy stepped among the resolutions laid out and peered around.
Only Berick had hastily crumpled his paper and tucked it behind him, sweating cold.
"What is it? Let me see."
"It's nothing."
Berick shook his head as hard as he could, which only made them more curious.
Amy suppressed a smile.
"You discriminating because I'm a female commander? That's a little hurtful." She could guess the men's jokes well enough.
"No! Not at all! Battalion commander, please believe me."
"All right. I'll read it, assuming it's a joke. Hand it over."
Forced by the commander's order, Berick handed over the crumpled resolution.
His veteran hands trembled.
"Hmm, let's see. A wish, and you want to stay in a tent with the battalion commander…"
Amy's face heated as she read it.
As the men glanced nervously at their superior, faces full of fear, Amy sighed.
"Phew."
She shot Berick a thinly open-eyed look.
Berick's shoulders shook.
'Better to kill me! This embarrassment will drive me crazy!'
Confinement? Add sexual harassment on top of insubordination and he might face worse.
"Well, imagination's free."
Amy rolled the paper into a tube and handed it back. Berick looked up, touched by the mercy.
"Battalion commander—"
"I'll let it slide because I know it's a joke. Corporal, even if it's a wish, write something doable."
The tension broke and the men burst into laughter.
"Sorry, hehe."
As Amy reached for the resolution, she raised her hand.
"And—"
The rolled paper smacked Berick lightly on the head.
"Choose your words properly. Do you think I'm a piece of fruit? Huh? A fruit?"
"Ack! Sorry! Ack!"
The men roared with laughter, and even the grim-faced platoon leader snorted.
That ended it.
"All right, everyone—attention."
The military bearing snapped back to solemnity.
"Orders have come down. Starting tomorrow our unit will receive new supplies. Types of issue are—"