Saint Frien
Saint Frien
Private Rubelt stared straight ahead, gasping for breath.
Not far away, the ground was scorched and stained a dark red.
To make matters worse, the wreckage of shells lay scattered everywhere.
'...Shelling?'
Ironically, it was only upon seeing the traces of the shelling that Rubelt realized he had been attacked.
'Then what should I do now...'
The mind of the rookie Rubelt went blank, like a sheet of white paper.
He had been taught in training to immediately return fire or move to the nearest cover when ambushed, but he couldn't bring himself to do it.
But the human heart was a complex thing.
There was no way Rubelt, a mere rookie, could execute his training as taught.
Right now, just clinging to his chaotic mind was all he could manage.
"Ugh...!"
Just then, he felt pain in his leg.
Rubelt instinctively lowered his gaze and was horrified.
'My leg! My leg is...!'
One of his legs was gone.
The high-velocity shell fragments had shredded it.
He hadn't realized it until he looked, but the moment he confirmed his leg was missing, a searing pain coursed through him.
"Grrrk...!"
Rubelt, barely suppressing a scream, looked around.
"Leg! My leg is gone! Hrrk! Fuck! My fucking leg! You sons of bitches! You Republic cocksucking bastards!"
Rubelt, who had been cursing wildly, was about to cry for help when he stopped and closed his mouth.
Because he saw his comrades fallen nearby, bearing even more grievous wounds.
Their conditions were so terrible that losing only a leg seemed like a blessing.
"...Hey. Hey!"
No answer came when he called.
They seemed to be barely breathing.
At that, a sudden fear washed over him.
'Soon, I too...'
Tears streamed down his face as he thought he would die just like the soldiers around him.
'No. I don't want to die like this...!'
He wasn't unaware that stepping onto the battlefield always meant risking death.
He hadn't volunteered for the front lines believing he would only ever fight winning battles.
But he hadn't been prepared to die such a futile death.
He had wanted to fight bravely, so that others would recognize his death.
Not a dog's death like this.
'But, but...'
Reality was more horrific than he had imagined.
"Dammmit..."
As he sobbed, gritting his teeth, a raindrop fell from the sky onto the back of his hand.
Then another, and a third.
The rain, growing increasingly heavy, soon began to blanket everything in all directions.
At first, Rubelt paid it no mind, but as the rain began to pour fiercely, he slowly raised his head.
'...It was clearly sunny just a moment ago?'
Staring blankly at the rain falling from the ashen sky, Rubelt noticed something strange.
'The rain... is black.'
The falling rain was not colorless, but colored.
As if it knew its own reason for having to fall here.
Just as he wondered what this was all about, a hymn sounded from not far away.
The song praising the existence of God was so beautiful that he unconsciously found himself listening closely.
'Strange things keep happening... Has my time to die finally come?'
Rubelt slowly closed his eyes, but the singing continued to reach him.
The rain also fell without ceasing, and his breathing began to stabilize.
It was utterly peaceful.
He no longer felt any pain.
'...Pain?'
Feeling a vague sense of wonder at that, Rubelt opened his eyes.
And he witnessed a miracle.
"How... can this be?"
The leg that had clearly been blown off by shellfire had grown back, perfectly intact.
Wondering if it was a hallucination, Rubelt tried moving the leg and was astonished.
'It is my leg. My leg...!'
A feeling of ecstasy flooded his heart.
Rising unsteadily to his feet in the joy of having survived, Rubelt instinctively turned his head toward the source of the song.
And he could see her.
Captain Frien, advancing while singing with both hands clasped before her chest.
Behind her head, an ink-black halo had formed, radiating outward in all directions.
As he watched the scene blankly, a murmur came from beside him.
"...It's the Saintess."
It was a soldier who had been gasping for breath, as if about to die from the shelling.
The soldier clenched his fist, tears of emotion streaming down his face.
"It's the Saintess! The Saintess is protecting us!"
The soldier's cry quickly spread.
One by one, the wounded who rose to their feet hoisted their weapons and shouted fanatically.
"Ahh! God is with us!"
"The division commander has sent the Saintess to us!"
"Long live Major General Daniel! Long live the Saintess!"
"This is a holy war! Let's annihilate the demon bastards of the Republic!"
Voices tinged with madness echoed from all over.
Among them, Rubelt also drew his rifle and gripped it tightly.
Though Rubelt was an atheist, he could be certain at this moment.
That God existed, and Captain Frien was God's proxy.
"Let's go! At the demon bastards of the Republic!"
"Bloody vengeance upon them!"
The soldiers, their bodies restored, rushed forward, each declaring they would repay what had been done.
'The Saintess is watching over us.'
Rubelt also whispered to himself, then kicked off the ground alongside the soldiers.
"Let's kill the demon bastards!"
With a cry tinged by madness.
*
"The enemy resistance is beyond expectations! They absolutely refuse to back down!"
At the operations officer's report, Republican Major Kurebe, who was with the reserve force, frowned.
In truth, the report was meaningless.
Because he could see with his own eyes that the Imperial troops were pushing all the way to where the reserves were stationed.
"Rather, our forces are the ones being pushed back! It would be advisable to order a retreat...!"
"Shut up!"
Kurebe snapped at his operations officer and then scowled.
"We executed an ambush with nearly twice the numbers of the Imperials who came out on reconnaissance in force! If we retreat in defeat, do you think the division commander will let me keep breathing?"
"Then what should we..."
"We annihilate them here! They've been shelled, so their damage won't be light either!"
The operations officer thought retreating was the correct choice, but unable to ignore the order, he nodded.
And so, while the operations officer relayed Kurebe's command, the Imperial troops struck the reserve force's formation.
But no matter how he looked at it, their numbers bore no resemblance to a battalion that had just been shelled.
'What? How is everyone so unharmed...'
Kurebe, who could not understand, witnessed the black rain falling from the sky, following the Imperial troops' movements.
Lifting his binoculars to check the phenomenon in detail, Kurebe could not help but be bewildered.
For an Imperial soldier struck by a bullet would collapse to the ground, then a few seconds later, rise again without incident and continue fighting.
'What in the world is this...'
Kurebe, who had been appalled by the absurd phenomenon, realized through observation that this mysterious regeneration ability was not invincible.
'...They die if shot in the head.'
Soldiers shot in the head did not rise again, even if their bodies regenerated.
'It doesn't seem to resurrect the dead. And besides...'
Among the Imperial soldiers charging recklessly, an officer who was singing caught his eye.
'The cause of this bizarre sorcery seems to be that woman.'
He couldn't afford to keep standing there in shock.
War was no joke.
His judgment made, Kurebe turned to his radioman.
"Bring the flamethrower soldiers."
"...You mean the flamethrower soldiers?"
"Yes. Once that woman gets close to the trench..."
Kurebe's eyes narrowed sharply.
"I will snuff her out personally."
*
The Imperial assault continued, but the Republican battalion reserve steadily held their defense.
They used the trench as a natural fortress, unleashing gunfire and shelling whenever the Imperials approached.
However, because the Imperials wouldn't die unless shot in the head, the line was inevitably pushed back little by little.
Amidst the chaos, Major Kurebe did not fall back, but instead advanced.
A flamethrower soldier followed behind Kurebe.
"Major. Do you really intend to go inside?"
"Yes. There is no other way to finish them off."
At the tone full of conviction, the flamethrower soldier closed his mouth.
For he could not, as a soldier, say no when his battalion commander was risking danger to advance into the battlefield.
And so, keeping their heads down and moving between trenches on a battlefield where bullets rained down, Kurebe and the flamethrower soldier managed to position themselves on Frien's flank.
Kurebe, poking his head out from the trench, drew the rifle he had brought.
'That woman will be the same, I suppose—if shot in the head, she will die.'
He couldn't be sure, but for now, it was the most certain method they had.
After taking a deep breath, Kurebe aimed at Frien and pulled the trigger.
The bullet, propelled by the exploding gunpowder, flew straight toward Frien's head.
But.
Tiing─
The bullet was deflected right before it touched Frien's head.
A black curtain shimmered and faded around it.
'...A mana shield? Has she concentrated mana around her head?'
He felt he understood the principle, but it still didn't make sense.
No matter how much mana was concentrated in one spot, it shouldn't be able to deflect a bullet so easily.
While Kurebe was flustered, Frien stopped singing and slowly turned her head.
Their eyes met, and Kurebe felt as though his body had frozen solid on the spot.
For there wasn't a trace of emotion in Frien's eyes.
It was as if she regarded all creation as worthless, like carrying out a mundane daily routine.
Frien moved toward Kurebe, who was reeling under the oppressive force.
Breathing roughly under the unknown oppressive force, Kurebe turned to the flamethrower soldier.
"This is a chance! Burn that woman with fire! Quickly!"
No matter how formidable her regenerative power, she clearly had no way to withstand a flamethrower.
The flamethrower soldier seemed to think so too, nodding and watching as Frien approached.
The moment Frien came within range, the flamethrower soldier stood up in the trench and pulled the nozzle's trigger.
Fwoooosh─
Flames shot out from the flamethrower, enveloping Frien in an instant.
Seeing Frien consumed by the fire, Kurebe inwardly cheered.
For he thought they could now kill that monster.
But that thought was nothing but arrogance.
"...Huh?"
A black figure was walking through the fiercely roaring flames.
As if to say the flames could do her no harm whatsoever.
Witnessing that sight, the flamethrower soldier pulled the nozzle trigger even harder.
"Die! I said, die! Just die, please!"
The flamethrower soldier screamed and pulled the nozzle trigger, but Frien did not stop walking.
As the distance gradually closed, the flamethrower soldier could see it.
The sight of Frien's skin endlessly regenerating within the flames.
Even as she felt the searing pain, Frien did not scream once; instead, her burned skin continuously reverted to its original state.
Because of that, the terrified flamethrower soldier let go of the nozzle trigger.
For he had instinctively realized he could not kill Frien.
"Ah. Ahh..."
Frien approached the stumbling flamethrower soldier, scattering the remnants of the fire.
Staring at the flamethrower soldier with emotionless eyes, Frien slowly reached out her hand.
"P-please, spare..."
The flamethrower soldier begged for his life, but it did not reach Frien.
For Frien drew a dagger from the flamethrower soldier's chest and swung it without a moment's hesitation.
Chwaak─
His throat cut, the flamethrower soldier choked out blood and collapsed to his knees.
Frien looked down at the flamethrower soldier, then bent over.
She then pulled a pistol from the soldier's holster.
Major Kurebe, who had been watching this from the side, spoke, unable to hide his bewilderment.
"You..."
His eyes trembled in dismay.
"...What the hell are you?"
But no answer came.
For Frien, having risen to her feet, only aimed the muzzle at Kurebe's forehead.
The next moment.
Tak─
A single gunshot announced the end of the battle.