4/4 Time: The Railroad, Artery of Industry
The railroad in 4/4 time is the artery of industry. Even the Angras Empire, the most advanced nation on the continent, is still far from modernization. Centralization remains a distant dream for the imperial family, let alone any industrial revolution. To put it bluntly, it was just two years ago that a military revolt broke out over tampering with noble privileges. They're barely dismantling feudalism and inching toward absolute monarchy, nowhere near a modern state. And yet, the magitech train plays a vital role in the empire. Its overwhelming logistics capacity shines even in an empire without mass production infrastructure. With sea routes blockaded by those sea things, reliance on land transport makes it indispensable.
In other words... to the empire's enemies, it's a tantalizing strategic target. But barring outright war, targeting railroads for terrorism is rare. Terrorists usually aim for more symbolic facilities. Honestly, sabotaging an empty rail with barely any guards or onlookers feels a bit... pathetic if you're boasting about it. Gradually accumulating damage is one tactic, sure, but ideologues and heretics don't think that way. Patiently advancing toward a goal bit by bit? If they could, they wouldn't be radicals or extremists—they'd just be called moderate reformers.
So, so-called revolutionaries rarely touch railroads. Except for one: the Great Witch, heretic of heretics. Pious Hag, Benevolent Hag, Humble Hag... and Serene Hag. Great Witches are criminals by nature, the kind that make you wish they'd just stay quiet. But Serene Hag, of all of them, dragged the most incidents in her wake.
A terrorist piloting an ancient civilization's aerial battleship with ultra-high altitude flight and cloaking capabilities, zipping across the world. That's Serene Hag in a nutshell. And the defining trait of her crimes? She doesn't discriminate. No nation, no region. If she needs it, she'll kill or kidnap anyone without hesitation. Or just because she feels like it, right then and there. In short, a total psycho. You wouldn't choose blasphemy and witchcraft in a world with divine power unless you were already unhinged.
With so many attacks, she naturally hits railroads more often. Unlike meticulous planners, she acts on impulse, which is another reason. No other key facilities nearby when she strikes? Railroads are the easiest, most convenient target. But frequent terrorism means more chances to catch her, too. Aerial drops from on high are tricky, but stealthy airships become detectable over attack sites. We've set up perimeters and forced her to flee by the skin of her teeth multiple times.
By now, even she seems to have learned. Instead of dropping ooze directly from her airship, she suspends it midair temporarily. It falls on its own after a delay, and she's long gone. By the time it crashes down, she's put serious distance between us. She's become an even harder mosquito to swat. Sure, compared to her personally rampaging on-site, the damage is reduced... but you can't relax. Every so often, when you've almost forgotten, the main body shows up to wreck havoc.
"...I'll help the crew, so please wait inside for a bit."
Well, there are minimal safety personnel, but as a soldier on duty—not on leave—I should lend a hand in good conscience.
I stood with that thought, but...
"Um, can we... help somehow too?"
"...Beni?"
"Yeah! Me too! Back home, I could hold my own in a fight!"
Beni and Riley couldn't just sit idle. Riley was already on her feet, reaching for the spear laid nearby.
Combat-capable passengers responding to emergencies isn't unusual. In this harsh world, it's tradition even before magitech trains. That's why I, an outsider soldier, could join without special procedures.
"Stay here."
But I shook my head at their offers. No, you're students. More precisely, club members under my supervision. Any scratch on you becomes my responsibility. If we'd been ambushed in a private carriage, maybe, but I couldn't let them fight on a crowded magitech train. No immediate threat forcing self-defense, either.
"It's fine! I can fight!"
But these hot-blooded kids their age wouldn't stay put. Sure enough, Riley's defiant attitude made me pinch my forehead. Beni would comply if I ordered firmly, despite her anxiety. Riley? No expectations there.
"I'm not saying hide. Do what you can here."
"Here?"
I pulled a small notebook from my pocket. The students' eyes filled with curiosity—they realized it wasn't my usual memo pad. Worn cover peeling and faded, stained here and there. I flipped it open quickly and held a page toward Beni. A complex magic circle was drawn there. In fact, every page brimmed with magic circle schematics. A magitech tome, compiling scrolls into one. Technically, each page was a hand-drawn scroll, but the result was the same.
Without Beni-level photographic memory, referencing diagrams for complex spells is always better. Even with practice on performance, it's like bringing sheet music onstage. You don't leisurely unroll scrolls, or your hands stay occupied... So if feasible, use them. That's why I carry this.
I pulled out my regular notebook and scribbled a chant.
"Beni, can you link Red Jade to your internal mana?"
"Pardon? Oh, I've never tried, but in theory... eek?!"
"Looks good."
I nodded at Beni's sudden shiver.
"S-something itchy...?"
"Normal. First links always feel that way."
Unaccustomed to Red Jade, it's ticklish. A bizarre itch you can't pinpoint. New mana paths opening up. Veterans call it "Red Jade hives"... Like a lifelong shaggy head suddenly buzzed bare, exposing sensitive scalp. It improves with repetition, toughening paths. But like scalp under hair, the foreign sensation lingers faintly.
"Chant this...?"
"Start when I signal."
By now, Beni got it. Circle, chant, Red Jade. Cast a spell. I clapped twice with aura-hardened gloves. Two metallic clangs rang out.
"That's the signal. One, two, three—begin. Orc's Curse chant, so don't break the link if it feels off... Rhythm: 'Mother's Embrace, Longing and Sorrow' tempo. Got it?"
"I'll try!"
"If you flub and restart, shout. Surroundings will be frozen by then—infuse mana in your voice."
"Y-yes...!"
Beni nodded gravely, like bearing a heavy duty. She was. Her performance decides our departure time.
"Riley, guard Beni. Should be fine, but better safe."
"You got it!"
"Good. I trust you."
I headed for the door, then turned back. This way's more efficient. Crew's already handling ooze balloons. I flung open the window and leaped down. Train halted, 3-4 meters drop. Even aura-less modern Earth parkour folks could manage.
Right foot and cane hit ground together. No roll—instead, I burst aura on impact, bouncing like a ball. First-class cars are upfront, but locomotive and crew sections are distant. No time to limp.
"Long live His Majesty. Mind if I assist?"
Several awaited at the magitech train's front. Four in suit-based uniforms—emergency safety personnel. Two warriors with long riot shields and curved scimitars. Rear two: mages. One chanted with Magic Tower staff; the other held a large bell and mallet, Six-Aperture Pod chain at waist.
"Of course."
The bell woman replied. Seemed senior. She glanced at my leg and cane but nodded professionally. No modern safety lectures here. In the empire, where trouble brews anytime, everyone pitches in when it hits. That's why even four get band roles assigned.
I glanced back. Passengers disembarked per crew guidance, many from third-class rear. Helpers get compensated, so some join for pay despite risks.
"I'll handle band duties. Focus on your chants."
"Pardon? Oh, yes."
Disappointment tinged her tone. She'd seen my leap, pegged me as skilled despite injury... but volunteering for non-combat rear? Still helpful—she could prioritize magic over bell. But underwhelming vs. "frontline-worthy cripple" hype.
"Then this..."
She offered the instrument, masking regret. But the situation moved first.
A crumpling metal groan. Clear even dozens of meters away. Source: the pitch-black container sprawled ahead on tracks. One wall tore like wet cardboard. Another. Beasts burst free.
Obviously, Ooze Balloons carry ooze. Human-hand mimics tangled in a ball. Featureless lump with animal head, crocodile body. Teratoma-like octopus on four tentacles, shambling forward...
Luckily, just one Anchor-grade.
Ooze, vile sea things. They spotted the train and humans, charging with massive bulk.
"You toppled goblet, come to my side—"
"Share that breath even closer."
⟨ Hong Tower Fireball ⟩
I tossed my cane skyward, snatching the mallet from the rigid crew woman's outstretched hand. Heavy. Blue aura wrapped my forearm, the mallet. As chant ended, sickly yellow flames layered over.
Of course, post-throw. Fully aflame, it left my grip. 2nd Circle ignition spell. Nicknamed Hong Tower Fireball. Aura-boosted strength hurled it with wind roar toward the sea thing.
Aura and mana friction froze ambient sound, sharpening the fireball's path. In slowed perception, I tracked it by eye and ear, clapping twice. Gloved clangs echoed.
Perfectly timed, it smashed the lead teratoma octopus's head. A massive gong rang out.
"Rhythm: A-Type standard."
Mouth needed for chant—minimal info. I snatched my falling cane, aura-kicked ground, and launched forward. Another thud froze the air.