Compatibility with Corporal Hanna

Red dots began appearing at the edge of the Minimap.

"Eleven o'clock... three of them, Lieutenant. Looks like an orc patrol."

The words came from Hanna at the same moment. The instant the platoon heard them, they dropped low and vanished behind the brush and trees.

Three red dots were crawling slowly toward our position on the Minimap. I read their path of movement with precision and picked out the optimal ambush point.

With ragged breathing, the orcs came into view. Completely oblivious to us, they brushed past a mere few meters ahead. Only after their red dots had vanished entirely from the Minimap did I signal the advance again.

We pressed forward for about an hour like that. The sun had yet to rise, but the fog was beginning to lift. Suddenly Hanna stopped dead in her tracks and grabbed my arm.

"Lieutenant... it's ahead of us. The energy is wrong. It doesn't feel... alive."

The Minimap showed nothing in the direction she pointed. A clean, empty stretch with not a single soldier on it. But her expression was grave. Trusting her, I halted the platoon with a hand signal.

"What does it feel like?"

"It's like... mana like rotten pus is crouched under the ground. It isn't moving at all, but the moment someone steps on it, I feel like it'll burst out."

I activated my skill immediately, sweeping the ground she had indicated.

Status Analysis.

The moment I confirmed it, a cold sweat ran down my spine. This was... a landmine.

"That was a close call..."

I gave Hanna's head a gentle pat.

"Good work, Hanna."

"...Thank you, sir."

At my touch, a faint blush spread across her face.

This combination is pretty good, isn't it...?

I marveled inwardly. A genuine synergy was at work.

My Minimap was superb at detecting living, moving threats — physical dangers, in other words. For tracking a patrol's route or sniffing out an enemy ambush, it was near perfect.

But against threats that weren't alive, it was useless. Traps that operated on magical principles like the 'Putrid Mire' before us, or even simple ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠mechanical booby traps, never registered as red dots on my Minimap. And I couldn't exactly spam Status Analysis on every suspicious patch of ground we crossed, either.

And that blind spot was exactly what Hanna was covering — flawlessly.

I signaled the platoon to bypass the area. Pale-faced, the soldiers detoured around the trap they had very nearly stepped on a moment ago. Cold sweat poured down their backs.

"Wh-what the hell was that...? One more step, and..."

Private Hans, walking at the rear, whispered to the soldier beside him, his face drained white. His legs were still trembling.

"No idea, damn it... if we'd just stepped on it... I don't even want to imagine."

The veteran next to him muttered the same, swallowing hard. He checked the ground at his feet over and ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠over, moving forward as carefully as a man walking on thin ice. Soon whispers were spreading through the whole platoon.

"How the hell does the Lieutenant spot that stuff with the naked eye? I looked and looked, and it was just dirt to me."

"His situational awareness is freakishly good. Come to think of it, back during the Ashen Forest scouting mission, he saw footprints that just cut off and called it a spatial trap on the spot, didn't he?"

"Told you he's different somehow. Hey, did you hear that rumor? That the Lieutenant can read people's minds."

"Aw, that's just a rumor. Though now that I think about it... it might not be total nonsense after all."

The speculation fed on itself, topic after topic. At the head of the column, Sergeant Gunter growled as he reformed the formation, his face hard.

"Cut the chatter and keep your heads in the game, you bastards! If it weren't for the Lieutenant's orders, every last one of you would already be orc fertilizer!"

Only at that bark did the platoon shut their mouths.

After that, we brushed up against the orc perimeter several more times, but 3rd Platoon slipped past them all without breaking stride. With Hanna's Mana Sense layered over my Minimap, punching through that level of defense was child's play.

"...Lieutenant, there's a faint flow of mana up in the tree at two o'clock. Similar to the watch-spell we saw before."

"Got it. Everyone, from here we detour seventy meters and loop around behind it."

"...Take the right path. On the left... I can feel a trap that'll collapse if stepped on."

"Everyone, hug the right side. Kill the footsteps."

Hanna and my teamwork was precise to the millimeter, without a single error. The soldiers who had started out half in doubt now had all they could do just to keep from gaping.

"Unbelievable... there was one there too?"

"No way. How does anyone even figure that out?"

"Corporal Meyer whispers something to him, and the Lieutenant immediately pins down the location..."

"...What on earth are they even saying to each other?"

"It's just uncanny. How does he know what's buried under the ground and what's hiding up in the trees?"

As the miracle of slipping through the enemy's watch net repeated itself, the soldiers' talk naturally converged on a single question.

"I'm telling you... the key is Corporal Meyer."

One of the soldiers, catching his breath, ventured cautiously. The others nodded as if they'd been waiting for someone to say it.

"I think so too. No matter how amazing the Lieutenant is, nobody can see underground traps and magic with the naked eye. But every time he and the Corporal whisper something to each other, a path opens up."

"So does that mean the Corporal has some kind of special ability? Like, eagle-sharp eyesight, or a beast's sense of smell...?"

At Hans's guess, another soldier shook his head.

"It's beyond that level. This time she found a magic alarm system. That's... a whole different realm, isn't it?"

"Magic...?"

At that word, every mouth went silent at once. In the Empire, magic was the exclusive domain of priests, mages, and their like. The idea that an ordinary infantryman — a corporal, no less — possessed an ability connected to magic was almost impossible to imagine.

"Don't tell me... it's not that thing that senses mana, is it? I read about it in the field manual. A talent that maybe one in a million people ever has..."

Something very close to the right answer slipped out of someone's mouth. At that instant, Corporal Kurt — who had been listening silently without joining the conversation — stepped in.

"That's enough."

Everyone flinched at his low, cold voice.

"Have you lot forgotten how terrifying the punishment for leaking military secrets is? If Corporal Meyer really does have an ability that rare, that's a first-class secret to be managed directly under the Regimental Commander. It's not a subject for grunts like us to go flapping our mouths about."

Kurt's eyes glinted like a snake's.

"There's exactly one thing we need ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠to know: that our Lieutenant is using that incredible ability at a hundred and twenty percent to keep every one of us alive. Our job is to shut up and follow the Lieutenant's orders. Don't fill your heads with useless speculation. Keep it up, and your actual heads might go flying."

He was right. The soldiers exchanged glances and clamped their mouths shut. Instinctively, they understood that further guessing was dangerous.

The conversation ended there, but the platoon's thoughts had converged on a single point. No matter how extraordinary Corporal Hanna Meyer's ability might be, what truly mattered was the existence of Max Jäger — the man who saw straight through it, commanded it to perfection, and led them to victory.

Their eyes had changed now. It was more than fear or mere obedience toward me — it was trust. The conviction that as long as they followed that man's back, they wouldn't die a dog's death on this battlefield.

"Lieutenant — it's just beyond that ridge!"

Hanna called out as we went. I nodded. I had already confirmed it on the Minimap.

We climbed the ridge she had indicated with careful, deliberate steps, ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠then looked down. In that moment, everyone held their breath. An astonishing sight spread out before us.

It was a vast basin, open so wide it was hard to believe we were still in a forest. At its center sprawled an enormous encampment, studded with dozens of barracks and weapon racks.

"Good God..."

"That's... all orcs? They're swarming everywhere..."

"...Is this real, sir? I've never seen this many orcs in my life."

"...That's because you're a Private, Hans."

The platoon members murmured in disbelief at the sight before their eyes.

Then Hanna spoke to me.

"...Lieutenant. The largest barracks. That's where the strongest energy is concentrated."

What she pointed to was at the very rear of the encampment — a barracks twice the size of the others, bristling with crude, sloppily planted flags. There was no doubt about it: that was the enemy command post.

The original plan was to raid it and then fire the signal flare. But now I found myself re-examining the entire operation.

Damn it, their numbers are way beyond the estimate.

I pulled out my binoculars and began sweeping the encampment below. The soldiers had been right. Orcs swarmed across the entire basin, and the number of red dots on the Minimap had to be well over a hundred. Even a full company charging them head-on couldn't have guaranteed the outcome.

Continuing the operation as planned was suicide. Even if we somehow managed to silently take out the command post, the moment we fired that flare we were finished. There was no way to stop hundreds of orcs pouring in from every direction.

Should I order a retreat?

While I hesitated, Hanna spoke to me once more.

"Lieutenant, I sense something strange from over there. It's like... a dead space."

...A dead space?

I immediately swung my binoculars toward the spot she indicated. It was a corner of the encampment where wooden crates were piled up like a mountain. The orc soldiers seemed to deliberately avoid going anywhere near it.

What on earth is that... Status Analysis.

I focused my skill on the crate pile.