Unleashing Firepower Is Always Fun!
The joint exercise that kicked off at precisely 10:00 a.m. on May 29th deliberately left the number and scale of participating ships unspecified.
Unusually, not only the press corps but even the Defense Public Relations Agency had been barred from covering it.
The exercise was taking place on the open sea XXX kilometers south of Marado. Prior notice had been given to neighboring countries, and the plan called for the ships to enter a disputed exclusive economic zone because of “mechanical malfunction, officer error, and evasive maneuvers to avoid unidentified floating objects.”
On the stern deck of the vessel scheduled to suffer that “problem,” two officers were speaking in careful undertones.
“A prearranged mistake, huh. Looks like we’ll be seeing Chinese and Japanese planes today.”
The sergeant in charge of the officer who would be making the “mistake” pulled a small notebook from his inner pocket. The black-suited gentlemen who had visited the night before had handed it over with instructions to pass it to a certain lieutenant the next day. Inside were the handwritten notes for calculating a course by dead reckoning during the planned temporary blackout.
The lieutenant who hurriedly accepted the notebook pressed a finger to his lips.
“The enlisted men can hear you, Sergeant.”
But the sergeant only waved a dismissive hand, as if it were nothing.
“They already know, sir. Everyone’s heard that the Seoul mage is coming this time.”
“…Ugh.”
The lieutenant fought a wave of dizziness at the sheer level of security. No matter how many times he tried to get used to the proud flavor of K-communications security, it never quite stuck.
“Besides, the other side’s probably already caught on to some extent.”
In fact, Japanese and Chinese patrol aircraft were already circling more than 160 kilometers from the exercise area. The distance was still too great for anything beyond track monitoring, but the unusual situation had already raised alert levels.
“I’d better get back to the bridge. Hang in there, Lieutenant.”
“Yes, sir.”
The lieutenant cast a brief glance over the warships crowding the open sea behind them, then headed inside as well.
“…A mage.”
For a moment he recalled the woman who had flown in from the hatch of a surfaced submarine. She had touched down lightly on the helicopter landing pad, where loose personnel had been casually controlled… and with her navy uniform, she had looked more like a student on a field trip than any kind of mage.
Two enlisted men clomped past in safety boots, carrying a box of fluorescent tubes.
“I just heard the Seoul mage is going to show us some magic.”
“They’re not even trying to hide it? Still, I’m curious.”
“…Hold up a second.”
He hadn’t called them over for failing to salute inside the ship during an exercise.
“Ah—Loyalty! Corporal Park Yu-jin! Do you need something, sir?”
The soldier set the box down and snapped a crisp salute. The lieutenant stepped closer.
“The mage is going to use magic?”
“Yes, sir, that’s correct.”
Was it because he was a maintenance man who wandered all over the ship?
“About twenty minutes from now, sir. They’re doing it on the forecastle deck.”
There was no need for a separate intelligence network when a single enlisted man already knew everything. The lieutenant could only press a hand to his forehead at the state of K-information security.
“Are you going to watch, sir?”
“I’m curious, that’s all.”
The soldier let out a small sigh and pointed at the box of fluorescent tubes on the deck.
“I’d like to see it too, but the electrical system’s acting up, so I’m hauling parts. Probably won’t get to watch the magic…”
Remembering the planned blackout, the lieutenant felt a private pang of sympathy for the man.
And perhaps the soldier’s words had been the trigger.
—Ziiing, crackle-crackle
“…Huh?”
The corridor plunged into darkness in an instant.
“What the—? Blackout?”
“Flashlights! Find the flashlights first!”
The lieutenant flicked on his phone’s flashlight and sprinted for the bridge. He hadn’t checked the exact time of the scheduled mechanical failure, and the lack of preparation forced him to hurry. He nearly tripped on stairs and coamings more than once, but after years aboard the same ship he reached the bridge in short order.
“Navigation systems are all dead, sir.”
—Click, click
The first thing the lieutenant saw on the bridge was a petty officer whose face was flushed with excitement as he personally switched off equipment that still had power.
“Hah… hah… Never thought I’d get to turn these off with my own hands…”
“Petty Officer, wipe the drool off your chin.”
“Ahaha, the radar just went dark too? We’re in real trouble now~”
The other officers were no better.
“Aigoo~ aigoo~ Of all days, right in the middle of a big exercise~”
Even the captain who dragged out a paper chart from somewhere and spread it open showed not the slightest hint of actual panic.
“By the captain’s order, bridge access is restricted. Yong-ju.”
“Yes, sir!”
The two enlisted men who closed the bridge hatch and took up positions outside moved with the smooth competence of men who already knew the chaos was planned.
“….”
Seated in the spot with the best view out the windows, the uniformed mage was calmly sipping coffee from a mug.
So that was where the mage who had come aboard had disappeared to.
“Ugh, bitter.”
Ah. Not so calm after all.
“Uh, that’s my coffee. The cocoa’s in the light-green mug.”
“Ah.”
Only when the helmsman offered a different cup did the mage regain any semblance of composure.
Is this going to be okay…?
The helmsman stared down at the mug the mage’s lips had just touched, lost in quiet torment. The lieutenant watched him for a moment, then gave up thinking about it and took a seat. Whatever the higher-ups were planning, a mere lieutenant didn’t need to know the story. He simply watched the ship begin to move onto an unscheduled course.
The first waters they would approach were Japan’s EEZ. Patrol aircraft and a few patrol ships would no doubt close in response.
The mage kept lighting and extinguishing a small flame above one palm. Sailing across an empty expanse of sea and sky was boring, after all.
The other officers and petty officers either quietly exchanged opinions about the situation or simply stared into space, killing time. Yet the minutes did not drag. The sense of being swept into something large only tightened the tension from the lowest enlisted man to the highest officer.
“Power restored.”
The dim ship brightened again. Exactly fifteen minutes of blackout.
I had jumped at the sudden darkness, but the soldiers moved as if nothing unusual had happened, so I kept my reaction to myself. Watching them deliberately shut down equipment that was still running had already told me something was up, and it seemed I had been right.
“Course change! Port fifteen degrees!”
“Japanese patrol vessel track approaching. Range 95 km, bearing 25 degrees. Patrol aircraft holding at 100 km, altitude 25,000 feet.”
“Lift radio silence and prepare the target vessel.”
“Firepower exercise will proceed as scheduled!”
Everything moved with crisp efficiency.
“Mage, if you’ll follow me this way.”
“Yep.”
We wound through a maze of corridors and compartments before emerging onto the deck. Without the sailors guiding me I would almost certainly have gotten lost.
The place we arrived at was a deck dominated by a proud naval gun and covered in neat rows of square hatches. Were those the missile launchers? I couldn’t remember the exact name, but I knew perfectly well that enormous missiles waited beneath those lids.
I briefly imagined riding one of them out of the silo. Yeah… my backside would probably get pretty hot.
“….”
While I was staring up at the massive gun, a sailor hurried over to explain what I was supposed to do.
“From this point on, Mage, you’ll conduct a magical firepower demonstration. You see that boat over there?”
About three kilometers out? A small craft with a swaying antenna was racing across the water. It was only the size of a car, so I could just make it out.
“Mmm… yes.”
“There’s an orange buoy being towed behind it. That orange buoy is the target.”
Only then did I notice the bright orange disc trailing far behind the toy-like boat—more than a hundred meters back.
“Mmm… yes. I see it.”
“The RC vessel in front is unmanned, but it’s expensive, so please try not to damage it if possible.”
“Got it.”
They would fire the naval gun first, then it would be my turn. The sailor handed me a pair of headphones.
“The noise is extremely loud, so you’ll need to wear these.”
“Okay.”
I slipped the headphones on and was guided behind a structure well clear of the gun. The world went muffled.
Moments later a voice boomed over the ship’s speakers like a broadcast.
—Beeeep
[Naval gun fire commencing.]
The instant I pressed the headphones a little tighter against my ears—
—BOOM-BOOM-BOOM-BOOM-BOOM!
—THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD!
The guns began firing in a steady, thunderous rhythm. It wasn’t a metaphor; the shockwaves literally rattled my ribcage.
“Whoa.”
Spent casings clattered and piled up in a glittering heap on the matting laid out for them. Then the firing stopped.
[Firing complete. Next will be the heavy-weapons demonstration.]
“Your turn, Mage.”
Eh, me?
So “heavy weapons” meant me?
I glanced up at the bridge windows and met the eyes of several watching officers. I gave them a little wave, then was led to stand beside the naval gun. A soldier and an officer equipped with headphones and a radio hurried over.
“Fire however you like. Just try not to damage the unmanned target-towing vessel.”
“Can I fly?”
“Uh, one moment. Checking whether flight is authorized… Ah, okay. Below 500 meters altitude, and don’t stray too far from the fleet.”
The soldier trailing a radio cable (probably a signalman) exchanged a few words and came back with the green light.
If I could fly, I could show them a lot more.
“You may commence free fire whenever ready.”
This was the perfect chance to show people just how strong magic could be—and how much they needed me.
First spell: something safe and reliable. Fireball it is.
I kindled a tiny spark in my palm, layered mana over it, and traced the flight path with a line of intent.
“Path designation. Motion imparted.”
Then I calculated the Fireball template formula and overlaid the attribute onto the spark with mana. Ready.
“Fireball.”
—Fwoooosh
The fireball, launched without accounting for the ship’s motion, was guided by the path designation and slammed into the top of the orange target in a brilliant flare.
—KRA-KOOM!
The explosion dwarfed anything the naval guns had just poured out. The sailors beside me stared in open astonishment.
“Whoa, that looks way stronger than the 76 mm.”
“A five-inch high-explosive would be about that size…”
Without a staff I couldn’t show them anything truly spectacular, but their reactions told me it was time to pull out the real thing and go all-out.
I was going to make them lose their minds over my firepower.
“All right—shall we get serious now?”
—Fwoosh!
I rose into the air above the ship. In an instant the horizon stretched wide and the target shrank to a tiny speck.
I swept a hand through empty space, opened a subspace pocket, and drew out the familiar staff.
A white staff of mana stone, gold, and mithril, crowned with a fist-sized crimson gem—the exclusive weapon of a Hero. Unlike the holy sword the Goddess had bestowed, this one had been forged from the combined strength of humans and other races. It was packed with thousands of offensive spell formulas, and I never brought it out except for real combat. The moment it settled into my grip, I could fully unleash the power I had wielded as a Hero in the other world.
“Multiple spell deployment. Mana limit release.”
—Crackle! Snap!
Blue sparks flared and danced around my body. Savoring the long-absent sense of omnipotence, I leveled the staff at the target buoy.
“Spatial Isolation.”
—CRACK! BOOM!!
I sealed off the space around the target so the shockwaves and blasts wouldn’t damage the warships, then queued the attack spells one after another.
“Explosion.”
—KRAAAAA-BOOM!!
An explosion that flipped the surface of the sea for dozens of meters in every direction erupted, sending a towering spray skyward.
“Energy Throwing.”
—CRACK! BOOM! BOOM!
White lasers followed, literally turning the water upside down. Hydrogen and oxygen separated by the energy detonated in colossal secondary blasts.
“Shockwave. Fire Blast.”
—Fweee! KRA-KOOM-KOOM-KOOM!
The shockwave blasted the steam clear, revealing a massive pillar of fire rising from the spot where the target had once been—now completely erased.
Because the staff’s installed formulas did the heavy lifting, I could pour out high-tier magic that normally demanded vast amounts of mana simply by speaking the activation words.
So I kept firing for a good long while.
“Ahhh, that hits the spot. This is magic.”
In the short span of five minutes I had unleashed spell after spell of pure frontline firepower—each one dazzling and devastating beyond words. The simple pleasure of moving my body again left me feeling oddly refreshed.
“Annihilation-class magic… no. That would wreck the ships.”
Having satisfied both stress relief and the demonstration of my abilities, I returned to the deck.
“Whoa…”
“G-good work, ma’am.”
Everyone wore the same dazed expression. It reminded me of the faces of soldiers who had first encountered me in the other world—the early militia and farmers, the knights and mercenaries of the Great War of Man and Beast, the green recruits in the trenches of the Continental War…
Not joy at seeing their savior, but stunned disbelief at what they had just witnessed, fear of that unreal firepower, and yet a quiet relief that it was on their side.
“I held back the stronger stuff so the ships wouldn’t get wrecked.”
A little swagger, but not a lie. I flashed them a bright grin.