Battle for the High Ground - 4
After completing my fifth flight, I returned to the Limpid Fairy’s hangar. Even at a rate of barely more than one shot per minute, the barrel had heated to a glowing red. My only weapon, the anti-Aindium sniper rifle, was a brutish thing that demanded a full minute of cooldown at minimum, and the price of ignoring that limit appeared at once. The overheated gun was bad enough, but the backlash from overtaxing my mana was truly frightening. A warm trickle seemed to slide down my face; when I wiped my nose with a sleeve, the fabric came away sticky with blood.
I grabbed tissues from the small compartment Unit One indicated and stuffed them against my nose. Once the barrel had cooled back to its dull gray, I collected the nearly empty magazine.
“I know. But I can’t just stay hidden here forever.”
Thanks to the advice I had given Rendel, the seniors were moving fast. It looked like we had saved the one who had nearly become the first casualty, yet the crisis was far from over. The last situation I had confirmed showed more than ten enemy Aindiums on the outskirts of Alov City and another group already advancing on the academy. I relayed the enemies’ positions and predicted destinations to Senior Lan. Rendel and Carson split off toward the school and the city respectively. I had planned to remain hidden in the air and continue providing sniper support, but the task proved far more difficult than expected.
For one thing, the mana consumption was enormous. Aindiums ran on fuel as a baseline, but special maneuvers drew directly on the pilot’s mana. Flying, maintaining optical camouflage, and sniping—if performed separately, Lewina’s reserves could have handled them. Performing all three at once, however, exceeded what her body could endure. I managed to eliminate the first two targets without much trouble, but after that even the Fairy’s assistance could not steady my aim. The reticle kept drifting; friendly-fire incidents were a real possibility. Several times I lowered the rifle altogether. I had expended more than twenty rounds, yet scored fewer than five effective hits. Had my marksmanship been sharper or my mana control more refined, I could have done far more.
The mana cost of simply staying aloft was negligible, but the slightest movement under optical camouflage strained both body and mind. When firing angles vanished or enemies took cover, I had no choice but to reposition, yet even those minor shifts felt crushing. After firing a few shots, the recoil made it nearly impossible to maintain camouflage. It was like a strong child hovering in midair and trying to fire a full-sized sniper rifle. No matter how impressive the Limpid Fairy’s output, it could not fully negate the recoil caused by its own mass. Unless a weapon designed specifically for the Limpid existed, the problem would remain.
So I shifted my focus from support fire to feeding the others precise location data. Still, there were moments when a sniper shot was required; even if I could not score a clean hit, I could at least keep the enemy suppressed.
My nosebleed had finally stopped. I reached for the flight control, but Unit One moved to block me.
“Fine. I won’t fire the rifle. That should be okay, right?”
“Then flying serves no purpose.”
I had zero interest in personally discovering how quickly an unshielded Nimust-class would be shot down while hovering in plain sight.
“No choice, then.”
Having a machine that performed too well could be its own problem. I climbed out of the Limpid Fairy, left Meister Carol’s laboratory, and entered the external hangar built into the cliff face. There I boarded the Black Fairy. Its performance was lower than the Limpid’s, but the strain on my body would be correspondingly lighter. I could not fly and snipe in the Black Fairy, yet the cliff was high enough. At the very least I could guard the school grounds visible from this vantage.
“Senior Lan. Aerial support is going to be difficult now. My body is reaching its limit.”
“Huu. Understood. I’ll stay on the cliff. Call me the moment anything happens.”
The Black Fairy’s maximum flight altitude was only a little over a hundred meters, and it lacked optical camouflage. Still, no one would expect a sniper to be perched on the ridge behind the academy. A firing position had already been prepared on the cliff, complete with a mount and camouflage netting that gave clear lines of sight to the school entrance and training field without blind spots. I secured the rifle on the mount and loaded the remaining rounds. Only three bullets left. They would have to be saved for an enemy the seniors could not handle or for a truly decisive moment.
Before long the enemy began to appear, one after another. The faculty members who had remained on campus met them with their own Aindiums, but their numbers were woefully insufficient.
“Hostiles have entered the academy grounds. How close is Senior Rendel?”
Listening to Lan urge Rendel onward, I slipped my finger inside the trigger guard. The instant someone fell into danger, I would fire. I would keep the final round in reserve until the absolute last moment.
A handful of faculty who could pilot Aindiums had set up cover at the training-field entrance and were returning fire, but they were on the verge of being overrun. The enemy outnumbered them more than two to one, and the attackers were using regular army-grade machines that far outclassed the academy’s training models.
When the faculty began to fall one after another, the enemy consolidated and attempted a single-point breakthrough. The hastily erected barricades were shattered by grenades. The Aindium that had been sheltering behind them was disabled in seconds, and the defensive line collapsed into chaos.
The only one still able to fight effectively was Lieutenant Colonel Bernard, the student guidance officer. If he fell, the academy would lie completely defenseless. Several enemy units were already slipping past him toward the buildings. The colonel took a calculated risk, stepping out from cover to lay down suppressing fire.
A harsh rattle of automatic weapons answered him. He stomped the accelerator and barely slipped out of the kill zone, but no suitable cover remained nearby. Staring down the muzzles trained on him, the colonel clenched his eyes shut.
BOOM!
A sniper round screamed in from nowhere and blew one enemy Aindium apart. The rest scattered left and right, taking shelter from the direction of the shot. In the brief lull that followed, Lieutenant Colonel Bernard retreated while shielding the faculty members who had already ejected from their disabled machines. A withdrawal order had come from the headmaster.
At last the second-year cadets began to arrive in force to clear the academy of intruders. Rendel’s White Fang took the lead, advancing while pouring suppressing fire into the backs of the enemy. The moment one foe tried to raise its shield, Rendel’s accelerated blade took the arm instead. The next strike destroyed the machine’s neck and limbs, dropping it in a heap. Rendel never even glanced back before charging the next opponent.
“Got it.”
The classmates who had arrived with him naturally fell into a formation that supported Rendel. Senior Lan’s overall coordination played a part, but everyone present had teamed with Rendel at least once before and already knew the most effective approach.
Rendel’s skill had grown dramatically since last year—so much that it was hard to understand why his grades had been slipping. Even his linear acceleration alone made him nearly untouchable at close range. Now he could change direction freely while accelerating and smoothly control his speed. He no longer relied solely on his blade, either; he employed the assault rifle he had always carried, and even drew on bare-handed combat techniques he had rarely used before. Quite a few of his classmates noticed that Rendel’s fighting style had changed. Glad he was on their side, they pulled their triggers with renewed vigor.
When more than half their number fell without managing to stop the rampaging Rendel, the enemy scattered and began to flee. They did not head toward the school or the city. Rendel guessed they were making for whatever submersible had brought them and was about to give chase when a trembling voice came over the CT Club auxiliary channel.
“What? Luna, evacuate right now!”
“Luna!”
At her words Rendel clenched his teeth and wheeled the White Fang toward the rear path behind the academy.
“Enemies are coming from behind the school. Once the city is cleared, tell everyone to regroup at the academy.”
“I’m not going to fight. I’ll be right back.”
With a burst of acceleration he shot toward the hill. All he had to do was rescue Luna and withdraw. Then he could link up with Carson and Muri once they finished clearing the city and drive the enemy back together—
BOOM!
The distant explosion tightened Rendel’s chest with dread. Smoke was already rising beyond the forest that concealed Fairy’s Hill.