Report, Lieutenant Stahlberg

"Report, Lieutenant Stahlberg."

Bang!

Klaus's sniper rifle roared, and the bullet punched squarely between the eyes of the horned-helmet orc commanding the enemy ranks. As the hulking brute toppled, a momentary crack split the orcs' solid shield wall — and I did not let that gap go to waste.

"Assault! Hit their flank!"

At my command, the 3rd Platoon surged forward as one, advancing and spraying their rifles at anything that moved the instant they found cover.

Rat-ta-ta-ta-ta!

It was as if fire were raining down from the sky itself. We held the high ground on the orcs' flank, and the bastards were packed together without a scrap ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠of cover — perfect targets, every last one of them.

"Graaagh! The ridge! It's an ambush from the ridge!"

"Turn the shields! Bullets are coming from this side!"

"Lord Gortus has fallen!"

The orcs, who had been pounding the 2nd Platoon without a care in the world, were caught completely off guard. Their shield wall's flank was utterly defenseless. Nothing stopped our bullets — they punched through tough hide, tearing into flesh and bone, and the orcs went down screaming one after another.

"Wh-what the…? …Max?"

Erika stared at us in a daze, as if she couldn't believe her own eyes.

"…It's the 3rd Platoon! Lieutenant Jaeger!"

Someone among the despairing soldiers shouted it, and that cry was oil thrown on a dying ember.

"We're… alive…! We made it…!"

"Reinforcements! Reinforcements are here!"

Hope began to kindle again in the soldiers' eyes. I looked down on it all and bellowed at Erika.

"Pull yourself together, Lieutenant Stahlberg! Do you want to watch every one of your men die?! This is your chance to counterattack — take it!"

"Ugh…! Damn it all!"

My shout snapped her back to her senses, and she bit down hard on her lip. Her face flushed scarlet — shame, apparently, even in a crisis — but at least she had the sense to start reorganizing the 2nd Platoon.

"All of you, snap out of it! How long are you going to crouch there like rats?! Check the enemy closing in and fire properly!"

Her orders were quick and precise. From the collapsing defensive line of the 2nd Platoon, intermittent fire began to spark anew. But morale, once broken, does not return easily. Most of the soldiers were still paralyzed with fear, unable to respond properly.

"Aaah… there are too many of them…!"

"Magazine! My magazine's empty!"

Soldiers huddled behind cover without daring to raise ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠their heads. Soldiers trembling so badly they couldn't seat a fresh magazine. Despite Erika's shouting, the 2nd Platoon was still shaking with terror.

This won't do.

From the ridge, I took in the whole battlefield at a glance. Simple fire support wasn't going to be enough. First, I had to rebuild their morale.

Charming Speechcraft.

I threw my voice across the field.

"Heads up, 2nd Platoon!"

Ring—

"You are the Empire's finest soldiers! Are you seriously going to kneel before a pack of pig-faced orcs?! Are you going to stand by and watch your comrades bleed out beside you!"

"If you don't fight here and now, you'll wear the tag of deserter for the rest of your lives! Is that how you want to be remembered — as the beaten?!"

My voice, charged with the skill's power, burrowed into the ears of the 2nd Platoon. The focus slowly returned to the eyes of soldiers who had been shaking with fear. It wasn't overwhelming — but it was enough.

The soldiers began rising to their feet one by one, scooping their dropped magazines out of the dirt and slamming them back into their rifles.

"That's… right… I can't die like this…."

"We're not… we're not the beaten…!"

"I'll kill every last one of those pig bastards…!"

Clack! Magazines seated home. The men of the 2nd Platoon steadied themselves, gripped their weapons anew, and leveled their muzzles at the enemy once more. Then they roared.

"For the Empire!"

"They killed our brothers! No mercy!"

"Wh-what…?! How?!"

Erika stared, dumbfounded, her gaze darting between her own men and me. A platoon that mere seconds ago had been spiraling in uncontrollable panic had transformed, at a single shout from me, into an entirely different unit.

Status Analysis.

A sliver of awe. Is there any phrase in existence that suits Erika less? I snorted inwardly. And she wasted no time seizing the moment, beginning to issue her own commands.

"The 3rd Platoon has drawn their eyes! Pick your shots at the gaps! There are axe-throwers out there, so use your cover properly!"

Following her orders, the soldiers ducked behind fallen trees and rocks and resumed their fight against the flood of charging orcs.

Rat-ta-ta-ta-ta!

The 2nd Platoon's machine gunner squeezed his trigger. The riflemen wasted no rounds, firing carefully from braced positions, and the hail of bullets carved precisely into every gap in the orc line.

The tide turned in an instant. Having lost their commander and caught in a crossfire from two directions, the orcs could resist no longer and began scattering to the winds.

"They're running!"

"After them! Leave not a single one alive!"

Erika and the 2nd Platoon screamed as they poured out of their trenches. From the hilltop, we looked down on the spectacle and mercilessly hammered bullets into the backs of the fleeing bastards.

When the last orc fell, the tension drained away as if it had all been a lie. The surviving soldiers of the 2nd Platoon slumped where they stood or clutched one another, heaving sighs of relief.

"…We lived. Did we… actually survive?"

One soldier murmured in a hollow voice, and the comrade beside him hauled him up with a curse.

"Damn right we did. If the 3rd Platoon hadn't shown up, we'd be orc chow by now. Did you see that? The moment Lieutenant Jaeger appeared, it was over just like that—"

"Quiet! Check the casualties and tend to the wounded!"

Erika's voice cracked as she shouted. But even while watching their commander's mood, the soldiers kept sneaking glances toward the 3rd Platoon — where my men were cheerfully reloading their magazines.

"Easy work, that. Would've been over ages ago with our Lieutenant's command."

Sergeant Gunter boomed loudly, and Erika's shoulders flinched. She whipped her head around to glare at him, but when she spotted me standing calmly behind him, no words came out. Instead — call it redirection — she took her frustration out on the innocent men of the 2nd Platoon.

"Stop standing around gawking! Casualty check first, then set up a perimeter! The battle isn't over yet!"

The 2nd Platoon jumped and sprang into motion.

Watching them, I quietly gave my own order.

"3rd Platoon, maintain overwatch and support the evacuation of the 2nd Platoon's wounded."

"Yes, sir!"

And so the battle ended.

By the time the gunfire from the east, too, had fallen silent, the first light of dawn was breaking over the Ashen Forest. Across the battlefield — thick with smoke, cordite, and the reek of blood — nothing remained but rows upon rows of orc corpses.

The moment we returned to garrison, an assembly order went out to every officer. The location: the Company Command Tent. I brushed the worst of the dirt off myself and headed over.

The air inside the command tent was heavy with the gunpowder stench and dirt of the recent battle — and with a taut, breathless tension that sat poorly with victory. The platoon leaders who had arrived before me already stood at their stations: Lieutenant Walter and Lieutenant Franz, faces frozen, mouths shut.

Erika, especially, was in a state. Hair hanging in a wild tangle, combat fatigues torn and scorched in a dozen places, she stood with both fists clenched hard behind her back and her head bowed low. She was doing her best to look composed, ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠but her shoulders trembled faintly.

……

Once I had taken my place, Serafina — who had been standing with her back to us before the operations map — turned slowly. Her gaze swept over us once, then settled on Erika.

"Lieutenant Stahlberg. Your report first."

"…The 2nd Platoon hereby reports the results of the western ridge defense operation."

Erika answered in a raw, ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠cracked voice.

"We engaged and repelled numerous enemy remnants. However… we sustained friendly casualties. Two dead, five severely wounded, eight lightly wounded. Ammunition expended: seventy percent, based on individual weapons."

While her report continued, I quietly activated my skill.

Status Analysis.

Humiliation at having incurred a debt, hm. A very Erika status window. The report went on.

"…Had the 3rd Platoon's support not arrived, there is a high probability that our defensive line would have collapsed. End of report."

Erika finished in a voice that seemed to shrink into the floor. For a moment, silence filled the tent. Serafina said nothing, only regarding her steadily — and under that soundless gaze, Erika's shoulders hunched lower still.

"So it would appear, Lieutenant Stahlberg, that your error in judgment placed your entire platoon in mortal danger."

Serafina finally spoke, and her words were as cold as her voice.

"You could have withdrawn in good order and preserved your strength. Why didn't you? Was it that pointless pride of yours again?"

"……I apologize."

"It isn't me you owe an apology to. It's the men you sent to their graves."

The words drove into Erika like ice picks, and she bit her lip until it was on the verge of bleeding. Then Serafina's gaze shifted to me.

"Lieutenant Jaeger."

"Yes, Captain."

"Report."

I began at once.