Deal (5)

Meditation was, quite literally, meditation.

A time to sit, quiet the mind, and reflect upon oneself.

That didn't make it easy, of course. I had the absurd ability to turn back time, but I still had more than enough things that could stress me out.

The protagonist's party, including Leo and Claire, was excessively diligent, but that wasn't really something worth stressing over. Physically exhausting, sure. And they worked so hard that whatever I predicted would get wrecked in short order. But honestly, those were enjoyable miscalculations.

Wasn't that the case? If Leo had turned out to be far more vicious than I expected, or if one of the protagonists was secretly a regressor as well and was ruining the "original story" I had in mind... Well, I was an outsider myself, an extraneous existence that had drifted in. Someone who loved the original story might easily think I was the one ruining it on a whim. Still, there was a massive difference between viewing the ruination from the ruiner's perspective and from any other vantage point.

When I did it, it was romance; when someone else did it, it was an affair... Mm, that comparison might not fit perfectly.

What I meant was, the harm I suffered because the protagonists were so protagonist-like wasn't really harm at all. It was just how things were always supposed to go.

The stress, for me, came from two places: when "the story proceeded too much according to the original," and when "the story somehow didn't seem to be following the original at all."

First, when the story proceeded too much according to the original.

Based on everything I'd experienced so far, it looked like the protagonist Leo would manage to clear every single side quest. He would probably move with such diligence even outside the playable portions that the story would roll along on its original tracks.

From the perspective of someone who loved the original, that ought to be a good thing.

But if things went exactly according to the original, there were members of the protagonist's party who would inevitably die.

Not only the heroines. The male party members could absolutely die, and the girls those male party members liked could absolutely die as well. No matter how powerful the protagonist became, he couldn't be everywhere at once, spread across the vast empire, so he couldn't possibly prevent every single moment of tragedy.

And there were characters who were "guaranteed" to die.

Claire.

Now that I had effectively taken Claire's place, it might have been me. Could turning back time really serve as a means to avert that death? Was there some enforcement mechanism in the world that would ensure one of us, or both of us, died regardless? I had turned back time before, but I had never actually died. What came after death? Would I simply move to yet another world, live on as some other character?

What's more, this world didn't just follow the original script mindlessly. It was maddeningly inconsistent, a mix of game-like elements and brutally realistic details.

In the game, whether you got shot, stabbed, crushed by a giant's hand dropping from the sky, or blasted by a laser from another dimension, you didn't die as long as your HP hadn't dropped to zero. Even if you did fall in battle with zero HP, that wasn't registered as actual death, and you'd appear perfectly fine in cutscenes. The only penalty was losing access to that character in combat.

Yet there were countless scenes that contradicted that logic between gameplay and cutscenes. Characters who, in gameplay, merely collapsed after taking an attack that obviously should have killed them would, in cutscenes, simply die because they were shot in the chest ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠or run through the belly. In the game, you could call it a gameplay convention or dramatic license. But in reality?

Did that mean that, over the course of that immense narrative, the protagonist's party must never be struck by a single bullet or blade, had to dodge every desperate swipe from any beast they faced, and could never step inside the radius of any hostile spell?

... But then, Mia Crowfield, undeniably one of the most important characters in the story, had nearly been hit by a bear's magic. Though I'd turned back time right before it happened.

Was even that simply because I had been present, causing the outcome to deviate? Or was I myself the enforcement mechanism, bound to save everyone and see things through to the end?

During what was, by my reckoning, over three hundred consecutive days of meditation, I'd pondered those questions endlessly.

By repeatedly turning back time, I could sit in meditation without eating, sleeping, or washing, which was rather convenient in several ways.

Especially for sorting through my thoughts.

Since, until then, I'd never truly had the chance to think about any of this.

*

"......."

Before my eyes stretched a battlefield. The faint scent of gunpowder lingered, as if fighting had taken place not long ago, and from the no-man's-land between the trenches came a smell like something burning.

Artillery shells had clearly fallen repeatedly. Large craters pocked the ground here and there, each filled with a soft accumulation of snow.

The battlefield itself was overwhelmingly advantageous for the Imperial Army. The enemy had dug trenches and fortified the surrounding area, but the Imperial Army had completely encircled that fortress, trenches and all.

The enemy had no tanks. The Imperial Army did.

Fighter aircraft as well.

But hauling armored equipment like that beyond the border was a politically complicated matter. The Riklant Republic had requested the Empire's support, but they were somewhat reluctant to allow such "cutting-edge equipment" to march past their borders.

From ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠what I'd heard, the very fact that the Imperial Army was crossing the border at all was only permitted under heavy restrictions, after Riklant couldn't withstand the Empire's political pressure over how "our side suffered damage because you failed to properly subdue the border warlords. What do you intend to do about it?"

"There are plenty of them."

Jennifer observed the fortress through her binoculars. A concrete bunker built quite solidly was visible. It was a fair distance away—small even through the lenses.

"But not enough to break through our defensive line."

Because soldiers would keep dying the whole way getting there.

"They don't have machine guns. But they've been lashing together multiple barrels and using them as stand-ins. A lot of our troops died to those during the early offensives. The rate of fire isn't equal to a proper machine gun, but several bullets flying at you in quick succession is still several bullets flying at you."

Assault rifles and the like hadn't been developed yet. Even the machine gun was among the newest weapons, and it was terribly heavy. At the very least, not the kind of thing you could carry around and fire on the move.

"Well, can you do it?"

"......."

I stayed still, saying nothing, until Jennifer stared at me intently and asked again.

"Or, have you already done it?"

"I've succeeded seven times."

Of course, it had required an enormous number of retries.

This was a problem on an entirely different scale from infiltrating the count's estate. The no-man's-land between here and those trenches was very long. The moment I became visible, bullets would fly at me.

To avoid getting killed, I had to cross without being spotted at all.

The fact that dusk was already darkening the sky was a factor ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠in my favor.

No matter how much of a standoff was ongoing, human alertness didn't stay razor-sharp for hours on end. Along parts of the sprawling front line, there were soldiers dozing off, or soldiers getting excited because their shift was nearly over and bedtime was approaching.

It took an agonizingly long time to locate such a spot, but I managed to find one eventually.

Once I was inside the trenches, the advantage was overwhelmingly mine. As long as I had bullets, I could put down one enemy per shot. Whether it was sheer luck on my part or the fact that it was dark and the enemy was a chaotic, panicking mass, not a single person managed to land a clean headshot on me.

Dodge, hide, shoot.

I didn't have a suppressor to muffle the gunshots. Even with a modern suppressor, you could only soften the sound a little; the moment you fired, the enemy would notice.

All I could do was plunge the enemy's situation into greater chaos.

I tossed grenades I'd brought in bulk into every single room I passed between trench sections, doing my best to cover as much ground inside the trench network as possible.

Mounting Marmaros on my shotgun had proven genuinely effective. The intense flame erupting from the muzzle alone was enough to terrify the enemy into paralysis. Even without a giant fuel tank strapped to my back, I was able to turn the enemy position into a complete disaster zone.

Submachine gun, shotgun, revolver. I advanced continuously, picking up another weapon whenever I exhausted the ammunition in whichever gun I was carrying, and eventually I found the ammunition depot deep inside the base.

On top of that, by that point the Imperial Army had begun its own assault.

Seeing the gunfights and explosions erupting inside the enemy position, the Imperial Army had evidently judged that moment to be the perfect opportunity to attack.

Amid the simultaneous assault from inside and out—

BOOM!

A colossal sound shook the earth. For an instant, I heard nothing at all.

When I came to, I was lying on the ground. I must have blacked out for a few seconds. My back and shoulders screamed in agony. I forced myself alert as quickly as possible and pushed myself upright, only to see enemy soldiers standing around with dazed expressions.

I followed their gazes and saw a brilliantly blazing fire. Smoke blacker than the black sky was billowing upward in thick plumes. There were several more enormous explosions.

... The ammunition depot had gone up.

One of the grenades I'd tossed in haphazardly must have gotten lucky and detonated it.

The sound of gunfire outside the trenches drew steadily closer.

Waaaaah—

A roar from the Imperial soldiers reached my ears, a noise almost like a triumphant battle cry.

One by one, the mercenaries dropped to their knees and raised their hands above their heads. Their faces showed they knew it was over.

Every one of them stared ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠at me as though I were something terrifying.

Without a word, I climbed up out of the trench and looked toward where the bunker had once stood.

The bunker had exploded from within and was half-collapsed. Even if anyone had been inside the remaining half, they wouldn't have come through unscathed.

And even if they had, they would be captured or shot dead by the Imperial soldiers swarming in en masse.

That was my first success.