The Sea Breathes

The sea breathes.

War broke out the day after I was discharged.

A preemptive strike by the Holy Kingdom. I never learned the precise reason. What mattered was how my own country responded. The Magic Kingdom's government skipped humanitarian protest and negotiation entirely and declared merciless retaliation instead.

There was no time to collect myself. The draft notice arrived in less than half a day.

"Ah."

Reenlisted one day after joining the reserves.

I'd rather go to graduate school twice.

Complaining wouldn't change a thing. I sighed and checked the notice. Front lines. If I sat still, they'd drag me off to die as cannon fodder.

There was, however, one way out.

I grabbed my coat and set out at once.

"Demand for officers rises right along with wartime needs. If you meet the requirements, commissioning as an officer will serve you better."

"Would it be possible to change branches?"

"Yes, of course."

The air force.

If I wanted to survive, I had to get into the air force no matter what.

I took the booklet listing military specialties and flipped it open. Choosing a path back into the service like items on a restaurant menu filled me with self-loathing, but there was no other way. My life was on the line.

I had a vague awareness the position existed. I'd looked into it back when I was still deciding between enlisted and officer tracks. In the end I'd chosen enlisted for the shorter term of service, but—damn it, who could have seen things turning out like this?

"Can I apply for this specialty?"

"Air Force Magestone Officer, correct? One moment."

The clerk left her desk and returned shortly with a verification tablet.

"Magestone Officer is a specialized post, so you can't apply without meeting the requirements. At minimum it demands a master's degree in magestone studies and a national Second-Class Mage certification. Do you have those?"

"Yes. I do."

"I'll verify your identity. Please place your hand on the slate."

I did as instructed. Personal information cascaded across the screen linked to the magic-stone tablet. Dozens of seconds ticked by.

"Confirmed. You're cleared to enlist as a specialized officer."

A smile spread across my lips.

Whether it was relief, self-mockery, or simply the expression of a man gone mad, I couldn't say.

Either way, the fact that I had to serve a second time remained unchanged.

"Kids, Dad'll be back."

I said goodbye to the pet rocks I kept carefully at home, then reenlisted.

They skipped the provisional induction and basic soldierization phases and put me straight into the officer course. Over two months I studied and drilled tactics, logistics, map reading, and the rest; for specialty training I coasted on my major.

"You're way better than the others. Prior experience?"

"I worked a few defense-industry projects while earning my degree."

"Hey, we've got an ace here. Take care of him."

All told, those two months felt genuinely worthwhile. Best of all, I lived near the capital the entire time I was training—honey this sweet was rare.

Back then I still believed I'd serve out my term in the rear without a single hardship and go home.

But who could have predicted it?

That I'd punch through vanishingly small odds and get posted to the absolute front.

"Welcome to the Eighth Fleet."

A small southern archipelago far from the mainland.

The air wing under the joint naval-air command stationed there was my new duty station.

Of all the air force units in existence, I'd been sent to the one closest to enemy lines.

Luck really is rotten.

The situation was bad, but I decided to think positively. Well—at least I'd jumped ranks by a wide margin. That counted for something.

That said.

"I'm Admiral Abraham Dietz, Supreme Commander of the Southern Combined Command."

A navy admiral greeting a mere second lieutenant on assignment day.

Something about it felt off, but I let it slide. Probably just a commander ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠who looks after his people. I'm getting too paranoid.

"Second Lieutenant Erihi Ronshstein, Air Force. An honor to meet you, sir."

"I hear you're a First-Class Mage."

"That's correct."

"An achievement like that at your age is remarkable. I'll be expecting great things from you."

Up to that point, everything was more or less fine.

Yes. Up to that point.

"Air raid!"

"Everyone into the shelters!"

Less than an hour after reporting for duty, we came under attack by enemy air forces.

I ended up fleeing with Admiral Dietz almost by accident.

I barely managed to still my hammering heart and peered up at the sky through a narrow gap ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠in the shelter. Several dragons wheeled over the base, dropping bombs.

Explosions slammed against my eardrums. Soldiers clutched their heads and staggered, yet the admiral stood ramrod straight, eyes fixed forward.

"Lieutenant, do you know what those are?"

"Dragon riders, sir."

"Sharp eyes. Correct. Very agile, very vicious bastards."

Friendly anti-air guns belched fire, but no one expected more than harassment. The dragon riders slipped the flak net with ease and wheeled away.

Before long they returned with a fresh load.

A second wave of explosions tore through everything at once.

Our side scrambled interceptors. For a moment it looked like they might engage properly—then the dragons spat fire, laid down a smoke screen, and fled into the distance. Only a handful were shot down.

"Dragons can't carry many bombs, which is why they keep coming and going like that. Little gnats. Better than bombers in some ways, but the constant sorties—tch."

The raid finally ended three hours later.

Smoke rose from every corner of the base. A squall that started just in time kept the fires from spreading far, but it couldn't spare us the casualties.

"If you've got free hands, get over here and help!"

"Anyone who can use telekinesis magic? We've got people trapped under here!"

"Urrrgh…"

Watching the medics scramble through the downpour, I couldn't just stand still. On the spot I jury-rigged floating stones and hauled away collapsed debris.

The military surgeons sorted the wounded. The triage tags were almost entirely black. It felt as if I'd seen every corpse I would ever see in a lifetime, all on that single day.

And this was only a harassment-level raid.

By the time the situation was coming under control, what I felt wasn't fear. It was rage. Most of the dead and wounded were my age. What crime had these young people committed?

"Good work."

Admiral Dietz set down a cup of coffee he'd drawn. He looked as much like a drowned rat as I did.

"You worked alongside us as well, sir?"

"You especially. A valuable Magestone Officer thrashing his body like that won't do."

"I don't believe rank or post should matter when it comes to saving lives."

"Hmm."

The admiral gave a bitter smile and sipped his coffee.

"Is it only the post? The rank looks the same too."

"Aren't you the commander of an entire fleet, sir? If anything happened to you, the military would fall into serious chaos."

"In the middle of a war, what army isn't in chaos?"

That ended the conversation for a while. I needed time to sort my thoughts.

"Lieutenant."

"Yes, sir."

"You saw the dragon riders' evasive maneuvers today. Can you make a magic stone that will suppress them effectively?"

"I'll do my utmost."

"Answer only with can or cannot."

"I can."

"A half-measure magic crystal won't cut it. There's one unit in particular that's a real headache—and dealing with them as well… just thinking about it makes my skull ache."

"A famous unit already?"

"There is."

The admiral adjusted his cap and sighed.

"They're called the Valkyries—an ironclad-dragon assault unit composed entirely of women."

"The Valkyries, sir?"

"The elite of the Holy Kingdom's air force, and a unit especially hostile toward ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠mages. If we're ever going to reclaim air superiority, we'll have to fight them sooner or later."

Especially hostile toward mages.

"An execution unit, then."

"Exactly."

A chill ran down my spine. Execution units take no prisoners. Encountering them means death.

"There seems to be a strategic element as well. Most of the mages they've taken out so far have been Second-Class or higher—the capable ones."

"Strange. How do they find the mages?"

"The dragons' pit organs. Some species sense not only heat but mana. The ironclad dragons I just mentioned are a prime example. They're clever enough to report the flow of magical power to their riders."

"So I mustn't let mana leak freely."

"Easier said than done. Especially for someone as softhearted as you—keeping a constant calm is essential."

I steadied my body and mind. And I understood what I had to do.

The moment I settled in, I began developing a new magic stone.

So that more Holy Kingdom dragon riders could be shot down. So that more enemies could be killed. Believing that was the only path to survival.

A month later, I succeeded in synthesizing a garnet variant called Crimson Garnet, and the balance of the war began to shift. The yttrium and aluminum bound ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠into the Crimson Garnet dramatically increased shell velocity.

Optical-system mages lent their aid as well, and a technique was born that guided rays of light to pursue the enemy. I called the magic shells fitted with that technology guided missiles.

In the battle that followed not long after, Crimson Garnet performed brilliantly. The Holy Kingdom's air corps was, quite literally, smashed to pieces.

"Results like this only a month after commissioning—First-Class Mages really are different."

"You flatter me, sir."

"Keep giving it your best."

In recognition of developing that magic stone, I was promoted to first lieutenant. From then on I also began to catch Admiral Dietz's eye.

And so a year passed. Then two.

I made more magic stones and more artifacts.

Our forces advanced along the charts. Corpses piled as high as the front lines we pushed.

For every enemy we killed, our own losses grew worse.

I watched comrades die and received word of friends' deaths.

I faced a senior buried in acrid gunsmoke, poured drinks for classmates hauled up bloated from the water, and raised a memorial for juniors who became cadavers after catching some nameless plague.

By the time my direct superior fell to the Valkyries, I was specially promoted once more—to major. I filled the vacancy he left behind.

"This battle will take air superiority."

At last a large-scale operation was drawn up. Command scraped together every capital ship and every soldier it could find. I was among those forces.

I boarded as the officer overseeing the magic stones used to reinforce the anti-air guns on the admiral's flagship.

Part of me wanted to run. I didn't want to take part in the fighting.

But what choice was there? The military is a place where you do as you're told. There was no other option.

"I find myself missing my daughter's face today."

The admiral murmured.

"By age alone she's your peer, but it's been far too long since I last saw her. She must be a proper young lady by now…"

"You'll be able to see her once the war ends, sir."

"I hope so."

That was the end of the small talk.

We drew near the operational area. The admiral ran his fingers along his baton and spoke.

"From this moment, you and I share life and death. If you die, I die as well. If I survive, you will survive too."

I exchanged salutes with the admiral, then went out on deck and assembled my battalion. Rain thick as bullets hammered us as I gave the order.

"All of you, survive. Hold out today and you'll be home by year's end!"

The men roared with spirit.

That spirit snapped like dry straw the instant the battle began.

Because it wasn't ordinary dragon riders who appeared—it was the Valkyries from the start.

"It's the White Lotus Battalion!"

The White Lotus Battalion was the Holy Kingdom air force's absolute elite, assembled solely from Valkyrie aces with twenty or more kills each.

They slipped the flak net by pure instinct and set fires across the fleet. Spray erupted on every side.

Everyone fought with everything they had, but no one could fully stop Valkyries whose venom had been sharpened by repeated defeat.

In the end the anti-air net was breached.

"Port side hit! Port side hit!"

The flagship took a torpedo strike and began to sink.

"Kill the mages first!"

Three ironclad dragons settled onto the battleship. The women speared resisting mages with holy lances and incinerated with dragonfire anyone who tried to leap into the sea.

Coming down onto a sinking ship just to kill people was inefficient. The Valkyries were moving on religious conviction.

"There's one over there too!"

Three dragons locked eyes on me. My mouth went bone-dry.

Then the ship heeled hard, and the dragon riders lost their balance for a moment.

At the same instant I watched a blood-soaked corpse slide down the incline and drop into the sea.

David.

One of my battalion members—and a junior from the academy. A friend.

The moment I confirmed his corpse, I lost all reason and sprinted for an anti-air gun.

I found a gunner collapsed and bleeding freely from his ears. I offered him a silent prayer, then seized the controls.

I reinforced the shells with the White Phosphor Stone I'd finished only days before. Then I turned the tables on the two who had leveled their holy lances at me.

Thud-thud-thud-thud!

Rounds driven home like spikes blazed furiously even through the downpour.

The two Valkyries screamed, clawing free of safety harnesses and everything else, until they fell from their dragons and broke their necks. Instant death, most likely.

"Daisy! Olivia! No!!"

The remaining Valkyrie fixed me with a killing glare and charged.

"For a mere mage, you dare—!!"

In that split second, her golden irises flashed behind her goggles. They seethed with rage, blazing like the sun.

Playing the victim, you bitch?

I punched magic shells into the neck and wings of the dragon she rode as well.

The ironclad dragon howled and thrashed. Her emotional loss of control gave me the opening I needed.

I was about to aim for her head—to avenge my men—when a wave surged high and tore us apart.

I had been gripping the controls tight enough that I wasn't swept away, but the woman tumbled over the side of the ship along with her critically wounded dragon.

"…Hah."

I was soaked to the bone. The strength drained from my shoulders.

The immediate crisis had passed. But the situation was far from good. The flagship's sinking was beyond anyone's power to stop. Escape was the only solution left.

"Admiral! Where are you! Admiral!"

Raising my voice only buried it under the rain. The downpour grew so fierce I couldn't see an inch ahead. I couldn't even tell where the bridge was, or which end was bow and which was stern.

Which is why finding a small lifeboat felt like a miracle.

The savage beat of dragon wings reached my ears. If I stayed any longer, I would die one way or another—drowned or cut down.

I didn't deliberate long.

I lowered the lifeboat and leapt into the sea.