The Snowball Effect

Bullets rained down on Rendel’s Aindium like a hailstorm. Since this was a virtual space, Rendel was piloting a standard unit rather than his superior White Fang, which made the fight manageable. If two or three of us could pin him down and give Yui a clear window to bombard him, we should have been able to take him out without too much trouble. That was exactly why I had assumed Rendel would try to ambush Yui first and had been waiting nearby. Unfortunately, Rendel’s Aindium held out until the very last bullet. Yui’s Bivald-class was built with absurdly high durability and massive size, so he had used it as a shield to minimize his exposed surface area.

The Bivald that had taken a direct hit from Rendel’s blade—its head and arm shattered—had also served as a bullet magnet. It was now so badly damaged it couldn’t move. A few stray rounds even reached me behind the line of fire, forcing me to fall back as chunks of the outer plating flew off. These guys were really going all out, even though it was virtual and their own allies were right next to them. That kind of friendly fire would be pure penalty points in front of Rendel or the other seniors.

“No. Not yet.”

While my classmates who had emptied their magazines were reloading, I pulled out my secondary weapon—an SMG—and trained it on Rendel. Having shoved Yui’s Bivald over to use as cover, Rendel moved far more cautiously than he had during the recent real battle. Virtual training was meant to improve pure piloting skill rather than ability usage, so no special powers were allowed here. No matter how good Rendel was, escaping unscathed while surrounded on all sides would be impossible. If I hadn’t been here, he might have taken out Yui and slipped away immediately, but the moment I read his intentions, any chance of an overwhelming victory had vanished.

You’ve improved a lot compared to the original story, but you’re still far from done, Rendel.

While I exchanged fire with him, my reloaded classmates began providing suppressive support. I fell back, reloaded, and caught my breath. My Aindium’s condition was a mess after taking hits from Danger Close and going through an entire firefight. It wasn’t quite as pitiful as Yui’s Bivald, which was currently being used as a meat shield, but it was close.

Yui’s transmission sounded heartbreaking, but there was nothing I could ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠do. My classmates, completely focused on their shootout with Rendel, were doing more harm than good. There was no telling when Yui would be forcibly logged out. I was just about to step in when Rendel moved first.

After using the cover to completely take out one of us, he burst out and pulled something from his waist.

“Grenade, watch out!”

The grenade flew in low and fast—so quickly that my warning was meaningless. The clustered Aindiums of my classmates were blown apart. Geez, those idiots. They should have kept some distance. It was painfully obvious none of them had experienced proper real combat yet. Well, I couldn’t really talk—I’d only done a few long-range snipes myself.

Grik’s decision wasn’t bad. While one Aindium with a broken leg held Rendel’s attention, three others successfully retreated. The problem was the two of us left behind—Yui’s Bivald and me. Yui had essentially become part of the virtual terrain at this point, but I was left standing alone on the opposite side from where my classmates had fled.

Rendel’s Aindium slowly turned in my direction. I flinched without thinking and stepped on the reverse pedal.

Rendel’s voice carried a faint trace of irritation. Was he actually mad that I had pinned him down?

“Yes, that’s me.”

“But it’s fine if it’s me?”

What is this protagonist even saying? That’s some serious main-character syndrome. Of course I knew exactly when and how strong he was supposed to be, what his stats were in the game, what feats he pulled in the anime, and how they differed from reality. But if I had been the real Ruwina, I wouldn’t have paid him any attention at all. Even now I was going through all this trouble just to keep him from straying off the proper protagonist path, yet here he was assuming I was interested in him.

After Rendel’s words, we fell silent for a moment. Then, as if on cue, we both raised our weapons at each other.

“Haa…”

I took off the helmet I was wearing and stepped out of the training pod. On the large screen mounted on the training room’s front wall, the battle was still raging. My one-on-one shootout with Rendel had, of course, ended in my defeat. Since we were using an assault rifle and an SMG respectively, it was as much a matter of weapon choice as skill. I’d have to be satisfied with landing a few hits on him.

“Good work.”

Two people who had already been eliminated were gathered in the training room. Was Yui just going to be left like that? While I watched with my classmates as Rendel sliced through the rest of our friends, Carson and Muri approached.

“So, what was it like fighting Rendel?”

“He really is on another level. No wonder he’s qualified to represent the kingdom. He’s incredibly strong.”

“I figured as much. They say he’s the kind of ace that only appears once every ten years.”

Carson, the hard-working type, didn’t compare himself to the genius Rendel out of inferiority. Instead, he adapted himself to match that standard. He was the perfect candidate for a field commander—someone who supported Rendel while coordinating with other pilots.

“What about the Bivald junior?”

So Muri saw Yui as a Bivald-class pilot. I gave a bitter smile and pointed at the screen.

“She hasn’t been taken out yet. The durability of Bivald-class units is set extremely high in virtual training.”

Muri nodded silently at my words and stared at Yui’s screen. Then she tilted her head and quietly called my name.

“Luna. Did you tell her to do something?”

“…Who knows?”

I hadn’t given Yui any specific orders. I had simply let her know there was something she could do. Even if the timing wasn’t quite right yet.

“Oh.”

While I had looked away from the main screen for a moment, something must have happened. Carson and the others let out sounds of admiration. On the screen, two Aindiums were engaged in close-quarters combat, their blades locked.

“Who is the one currently facing Rendel?”

“Just a moment. Pilot ranked fifth, Mihail Loxide. He’s the same type as Senior Rendel—someone who prefers close combat.”

“Loxide? As in the Loxide family? I see.”

Carson murmured as he watched the Aindium trading blows with Rendel.

“Loxide?”

“The Loxide family. You don’t know them?”

“Ah. The Northern Lions?”

“Yeah. That Loxide.”

If even Senior Muri knew about them, it must be quite a famous house. Come to think of it, Mihail’s face looked familiar. I think he was one of the first-year new students who made a brief appearance in the anime.

“As expected from a knight family. They must train in swordsmanship from a young age.”

“What about Rendel?”

“He learned swordsmanship as a sport.”

While the seniors continued their conversation, Rendel’s blade sliced through empty air. Mihail didn’t miss the opening and thrust his sword forward.

The public opinion on the message board was against Rendel, but deep down I was secretly rooting for him. He had already lost to Line not long ago. If he lost to a junior as well, recovering his mentality would be difficult. And that would only make things harder for me.

Whoosh—

Mihail’s confident strike cut through empty air in vain. Rendel twisted his body with terrifying speed, almost as if he had used acceleration, dodged the blade, then spun once and delivered a powerful slash that cut the Aindium clean in half at the waist.

“The cockpit area got wrecked.”

“Looks like the senior’s mad.”

My classmates whispered among themselves in fear, but to me, Rendel’s thoughts were practically visible. ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠He was thrilled to be fighting a direct junior who also used a sword.

With Mihail’s defeat, the three who had fled earlier were all taken out. Rendel caught his breath for a moment, then headed back up the hill to finish off Yui.

“Luna. Is this the end?”

Senior Muri tugged at my sleeve, looking curious. I gave her a kind smile and whispered.

“Just keep watching, Senior.”

The question that only someone who piloted a Bivald-class and had sharp eyes like Muri would think of would soon be answered. Why Yui had loaded up on so many regular explosives instead of missiles.

The moment Rendel climbed the hill and raised his sword toward Yui’s Bivald—

Kwaaaaang—!!

With a tremendous explosion, all the explosives loaded in Yui’s Bivald detonated at once.

“So you’re saying Rendel lost because of that?”

“…It was a simultaneous elimination.”

The look on Rendel’s face as he made excuses to Lan was quite a sight. The operator and mechanic interviews had ended quickly, so nearly twenty people were now gathered in the training room. I had skipped Carson and Muri’s interviews after Rendel’s. The seniors had said I didn’t need to come, and they had realized during the previous raid that I wasn’t the type to receive orders on the field. After all, I was more of a scout and sniper than a regular infantryman.

All the other classmates had watched Carson’s interview, but Yui had a separate one-on-one interview with Muri in a specially created training server. Yui was definitely getting picked. Muri ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠already seemed to have chosen her as a successor. Mihail would probably get picked too, and maybe one or two more out of the remaining four? From what I heard, they accepted two operators and Neria plus one other mechanic.

“By the way, Luna. Was it your order to make the Bivald self-destruct at the end?”

“Huh? N-No.”

Rendel suddenly spoke to me, so I reflexively denied it. He stared at me with eyes full of suspicion.

“Hmm. Really?”

“I only gave her a hint.”

“A hint?”

“Yes. Since bombardment would be difficult anyway, I told her to make full use of the Bivald’s transport capacity.”

“And that led to self-destruction?”

“Well… in the end, yes.”

“…….”

The expressions on Lan and Rendel’s faces grew a little strange after hearing me. They deliberately spoke at a volume I could hear, exchanging whispers.

“We probably shouldn’t let Luna take command. A self-destruct booby trap?”

“I was thinking the same thing.”

“No, if it were a real battle, I would have obviously prioritized allied survival. And I told her not to use it until everyone else had been taken out.”

“Is that true?”

“Who knows. Luna’s always had ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠a slightly unique way of thinking. Maybe we’ve been too naive…”

As expected of childhood friends, Lan and Rendel were perfectly in sync when it came to teasing me. I once again emphasized how unfairly I was being treated and swore that I would never use self-destruct tactics again in the future.

That’s right. This wasn’t a game—it was reality. Even though it was virtual combat, using strategies I sometimes relied on in games apparently earned me this kind of reaction.

A short while later, all the virtual training interviews were over. We gathered back in the clubroom, and Senior Lan made an announcement to the first-year pilots.

“In our CT Club, and in the Aindium Officer Academy as a whole, pilots are the most important. That’s why we run so many tests. Now we’ll proceed with individual pilot interviews. This is the last one, so please bear with us a little longer.”

“Yes!”

The ones who had performed poorly in the virtual training interviews raised their voices, seeing this as their final chance. However, Yui—who had landed the final blow on Rendel—seemed quite exhausted or nervous. She hunched her shoulders and let out a deep sigh. I gave her back a firm pat.

“Hang in there. I’ll tell you what the seniors like.”

“Really? Thank you so much, Luna.”

“You just need to trust Senior Muri and follow her lead. The fact that you’re already piloting a Bivald-class gives you about eighty points right from the start.”

“You think so?”

“Yeah. And also…”

After giving Yui a few more tips, I left the clubroom. Soon I would find out who my fellow club members would be—the ones I would be working with for the next two years and beyond.