Aftermath Is Always Harder

It's always the aftermath that's the harder part of any battle.

Victory, in the end, was only half the job. The city streets were choked with burning tanks and the rubble of collapsed buildings, and acrid smoke curled up everywhere, blotting out the sky.

Still, there was one small silver lining: the bombardment and fighting had turned the city into an even more tangled labyrinth — and for the defenders, that was actually good news.

"Second Company! Don't just stand around gawking — start digging! Punch holes through the ground-floor walls of the buildings so we can nest the gun barrels inside!"

I directed the scene personally as I passed through.

"Gunter! Whip those boys into shape however you have to. We finish before sundown — no exceptions!"

"Yes, sir! Leave it to me! Hey, you worthless bastards! Didn't you hear the Company Commander?! Grab a pickaxe and MOVE!"

My destination was the entrance of an underground bunker where a makeshift aid station had been set up.

"AAAAGH! Save me! My leg... my leg, please!"

"Stay calm! We're stopping the bleeding!"

The smell of blood hit me the moment I stepped inside. The cramped space was packed wall-to-wall with wounded soldiers.

And in the very center of that chaos stood a medic in a blood-soaked white coat.

Honey-gold hair braided over one shoulder, intelligent brown eyes, and a voluptuous figure that not even the stained coat could hide. A beauty.

Captain Elise von Kleist.

"More gauze! Get me more! I need to clamp this vessel first!"

Status Analysis.

Dead tired and running on fumes. Far too many casualties for a single army doctor to handle alone.

"Nnnghhh...! Kkh, khugh!"

Right on cue.

"He's in shock! Hold ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠his head so he doesn't bite his tongue!"

A simple cot in the corner. The soldier lying there had rolled his eyes back, and his whole body was thrashing like a landed fish.

Elise lunged for him at once. She tried to press down on his shoulders, but she was no match for the raw strength of a full-grown man in a frenzy.

"I can't—! He's too strong...! Sedative! Does anyone have a sedative?!"

Thud.

I closed the distance without hesitation and pinned the soldier's chest down with one hand.

"C-Captain Jaeger?!"

Elise jumped at my sudden appearance.

"Step aside. I've got this."

Touch of Attunement.

Reattaching torn flesh or stitching severed blood vessels was beyond it, of course.

But the true essence of this skill was bioenergetic attunement.

Just as it had stabilized Seraphina's Mana Overload, it could calm a nervous system raging with pain — like an anesthetic injection.

"Huaaah... hah..."

The soldier who had been thrashing like a wild beast went limp as a rag doll.

"Huh...?"

Elise's eyes went round.

"Wh-what did you just—"

"Looks like he's passed out from the shock. Now, Captain — hurry!"

Instead of explaining, I urged her on.

"Ah— yes! Right!"

Elise snapped back to herself and threw herself onto the patient. Precise, practiced hands. She clamped the ruptured vessel with forceps and brought the bleeding under control with the ease of long routine.

"Whew..."

Only then did she let her tension go and turn to look at me.

"Lieutenant Jaeger... no, I suppose it's Captain now? You just saved my life back there. I knew you could command a ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠battle, but I had no idea you had such a knack for handling patients, too..."

"You flatter me. It worked only because your surgical skill was flawless."

I smiled wryly and pressed on.

"How are things holding up here?"

Elise answered with a bitter smile.

"I wish. It's... truly terrible. We're out of anesthetics, short on bandages. At this rate, half of them may die of shock."

I glanced around briefly. Moaning soldiers. Manpower and supplies in desperately short supply. A little morale management seemed called for.

Charming Speechcraft.

"Don't worry. I've just issued orders to secure a new supply line. And..."

I said it evenly.

"We won. We wiped out their vanguard. Dozens of their tanks are scrap metal now. Reinforcements will be here from the ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠rear any time."

"...Is that really true?"

"Have you ever caught me in a lie?"

Truthfully, there was no telling when — or whether — reinforcements would come. But right now, even a crutch of hope was a medicine worth prescribing.

"We... we won?"

"We made it... we actually made it..."

The moaning died down, and life began to creep back into the soldiers' eyes. Elise's expression brightened considerably as well.

"I should have known... Captain Jaeger is remarkable. You don't just treat the battlefield — you treat people's hearts, too."

"The treating is your job, Captain. I only dispensed the sugar coating."

I flashed a grin and gave her shoulder a friendly pat.

"...Yes. I'll do my best."

Then Elise's gaze followed my hand — and slid, quite suddenly, from my shoulder down along my arm. Her eyes wavered.

"Hold on, Captain."

Her stare locked onto the vicinity of my shoulder. In an instant, her expression hardened.

"Your arm... you're wounded."

"Huh?"

Only then did I turn my head to check my left shoulder.

"Ah."

Through the torn uniform, blood was seeping out in a dark red stain. A shard of metal was embedded quite deep. Apparently shrapnel from the anti-aircraft gun position we'd built earlier.

So that was why my left arm had been feeling oddly stiff. Between the adrenaline and the skill, I hadn't even noticed.

"Come here and sit down. Right now."

All traces of her earlier gentleness gone, Elise all but shoved me into a folding chair.

Snip.

She took up a pair of scissors and cut away my uniform sleeve without ceremony.

The exposed wound was ugly. A chunk of metal the size of a fingertip was buried deep in the muscle.

"The fragment's embedded. It has to come out, and it needs suturing..."

Elise bit her lip and looked around.

"The anesthetic's all gone. That last dose was the final one..."

"Doesn't matter. Just pull it out."

"Wh-what? But it's deep, you could go into shock—"

"There's no time, Captain Elise. The wounded are still pouring in outside. I can't have you wasting it on one arm of mine."

I deliberately put on a grim, resolute face.

"...Understood. I'll finish as quickly as I can."

Seeing my expression, Elise matched it with one of her own and picked up the forceps and scalpel.

I quietly closed my eyes.

Touch of ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠Attunement.

Rustle. Scrape.

I could feel Elise's forceps digging into flesh, hunting for the fragment. But there was almost no pain.

What caught my attention instead was how the skill itself had changed.

...Huh?

At Lv.1, it had been a crude, blunt sense of mana being tuned. Now that same sensation was startlingly sharp.

Come to think of it, I'd never actually used Touch of Attunement on myself before. Well — I had, but never since it hit Lv.2.

The faint current flowing through my own body — the flow of mana — came through in vivid detail. The raging torrent of pain erupting from my shoulder was being dammed up perfectly.

If I work with this a little more...

It felt as though, given the chance, I might be able to effect something fundamental in the currents running through me.

But there was no room for deep concentration.

Scrape. Pop.

I cracked one eye open.

Right in front of my nose, my own flesh was being torn open, forceps rifling through the wound.

Deeper than I thought.

Not that the skill made it hurt any less nothing — but with the wound gaping and weeping, trying to multitask some feat of introspection was pushing it.

Instead, I simply watched, deadpan, as blood welled up from my shoulder.

Clang!

At last Elise flung the bloodied forceps into a metal tray. At their tip: a clot of blood tangled around a jagged sliver of steel.

"...Got it out."

Her voice was full of disbelief.

"Are you... really all right? We carved into raw flesh with no anesthetic at all, and you didn't make a single sound."

It was the kind of pain that would have knocked most men out cold or sent them leaping off the table. I answered, perfectly composed.

"Your hands are so gentle, Captain, I hardly felt a thing."

"I-is that so..."

A faint flush of embarrassment spread across Elise's face.

"......I'll suture it now. It'll sting a little."

"Go ahead."

The suturing was over in no time. The sensation of bare flesh being stitched shut didn't faze me this time either.

"...All done. Don't strain that arm for a while, understand?"

"Understood. Thank you, Captain."

After one final sweep of the makeshift aid station, I climbed out of the underground bunker.

Before long, Master Sergeant Gunter came sprinting up, face caked in dirt, and reported.

"Company Commander! First and Third Platoons are in position! Anti-tank mines are laid out along the forward two hundred meters, done and buried!"

"Good work. And the men?"

"Told them to grab a bit of shut-eye. No telling when those bastards come charging in again."

"Nicely done. Get some rest yourself."

I clapped Gunter on the shoulder and headed for my temporary quarters on the ground floor of a half-collapsed hotel.

The moment I stepped inside the building, the tension drained out of my body. I barely managed to steady my swaying legs with Touch of Attunement. Even so, a deep, stubborn exhaustion pressed down on me from head to toe.

My mouth tasted bitter.

Even holding Rosenheim was nothing but a stay of execution. The front line had already collapsed, and the enemy's main force remained fully intact. They could hit us again tomorrow — no, within hours — and nothing about it would be strange.

One miracle is all you get.

There was no guarantee that the 88mm anti-aircraft gun trick would work twice. If I wanted to survive, I needed something more certain.

My gaze drifted, unbidden, to my left arm — to that strange, vivid sensation I'd felt during the treatment.

Perhaps that was the one variable I had left.

Clenching and unclenching my fist, I walked down the dark corridor.

Ding!

Time to settle the accounts.