Cohorts (2)
“Well then, shall we start with introductions?”
Second Lieutenant Hess gave the order, and Ralph—lowest in seniority—went first.
“Private First Class Ralph Schwartz. Assigned as messenger and communications assistant.”
“…Corporal Chloe Winterland. Sniper.”
Second Lieutenant Eriich Hess seemed to catch the subtle tension between us and asked casually,
“Hmm. Do you two already know each other?”
“Training camp cohort.”
“We don’t know each other.”
Our answers overlapped.
Hess looked between us with interest; Ralph wore an aggrieved expression.
…What do you want me to say? Until recently I didn’t even know that guy’s name was Ralph Schwartz!
That counts as not knowing each other, doesn’t it?
“Good. You two seem close.”
“Sir?”
“Talking back already—you adapt fast.”
Eriich Hess grinned and clapped both of us on the shoulder.
The physical contact was mildly unpleasant, but I didn’t let it show. Acting in this body was getting close to perfect.
Clap!
Hess struck his palms together.
“Introductions over. Gear up. We move to the front in ten minutes.”
“Yes, sir.”
“War doesn’t wait for us. I like how quick you are.”
Is this man serious?
Two soldiers just returned to the line today, and we’re charging the front immediately?
Sob… how tragic.
About ten minutes later, Hess gave the signal with clockwork precision.
“All right—move out!”
A jolt.
Almost the instant the signal dropped, goosebumps raced over my entire body.
Wait—artillery.
Boom!
Not even toward the front, but close enough: the sound of a shell landing.
Dirt sprayed and stuck in my hair. Damn it—I’d only just fixed it!
A girl’s hair is a nightmare to manage! Does artillery have no consideration?!
Anyway… what was that sensation just now?
I was certain the shell would fall before I even heard it…?
I checked the pools of mana beneath my diaphragm for a moment. No sign that mana had moved.
If it had, blood would already be streaming from my nose and mouth.
I didn’t cast magic. Mana didn’t stir. So how did I know? I sensed the shell before it landed.
The likeliest candidate is still D Magic…
Coincidence?
As if. I’m not some dense isekai protagonist who shrugs off anomalies.
Definitely not magic use, and not mana movement either. Both would have been close enough for Sergeant Misty to sense, and there were no symptoms.
I sank into thought as we advanced along the communication trench toward the front.
The column had Hess and Sergeant Kern at the head, Sergeant Vogel and Corporal Bremer in the middle, Private First Class Josephine and Ralph with me and Sergeant Misty at the rear.
Corporal Roth kept a little distance, scanning the surroundings.
A moment ago they’d looked like a ragtag bunch; once formed up, the shape was almost respectable.
“Halt.”
Hess raised a fist. The whole column pressed flat against the trench wall in an instant.
A few seconds later an explosion slammed into the bend ahead—one shell.
Dirt and splinters of wood poured into the communication trench.
“Move again.”
Stop, go, stop, go. After several repetitions we finally reached the forward assembly trench.
Boom!
That one was ours.
The sector where the Skyburst Star and the Construction Star were locked in combat lay several blocks north of here, so that was something, at least.
No explosives raining from the sky, no trench standing up out of the earth and walking this way, right?
Ordinary shells and machine guns—I’ll take it.
Good grief.
At last Hess spread a map against the trench wall.
“The entire 9th Company switches to the offensive today. Our platoon’s objective: enter through the central breach, seize Sector Three of the enemy outpost trench and the entrance to the connecting trench.”
“Yes, sir.”
“The moment the barrage lifts to the rear, we charge. First squad frontal, second squad the right-hand connecting trench.”
“Understood.”
“Vogel?”
“Leave it to me.”
“Bremer and Schwartz—run the telephone wire. If it breaks, Schwartz, you run.”
“Yes, sir!”
“Sergeant Misty and Corporal Winterland—eliminate the machine-gunners and observers.”
“Understood.”
He used full rank and name only for Misty and me. Still keeping psychological distance, then.
I need to get accepted as one of the platoon soon.
For the farming of attention and heat!
Sergeant Misty caught my shoulder lightly and gave me a look.
“Use of D Magic is not authorized.”
“Understood.”
Why the suspicious face even after I answered? I really didn’t do anything this time!
Hess checked his pocket watch. Imperial artillery points began shifting gradually rearward.
And at last, gaps opened in the barrage.
Gaps that men would fill.
Tweeeee!
At someone’s whistle, Hess stepped onto the ladder and vaulted out of the trench.
A faint blue light spread ahead.
B Magic.
A translucent barrier unfurled at a slanted angle.
Incoming rounds struck the membrane with a rapid patter. Blue sparks leapt.
“Forward!”
Hess was first into no-man’s-land. An officer leading with nothing but a barrier—third-tier, maybe?
Either way, I used him as a shield.
Sergeant Kern bellowed at once.
“Fuck! Don’t clump behind the barrier! Spread out! Want one shell to wipe the lot of you?!”
At his shout the line fanned left and right. Mud seized our boots; every step sank us to the ankles.
I glanced sideways. A strange broth of mud and corpses.
Something squelched underfoot; I abandoned checking it before my stomach turned.
Thud.
A rifleman on the right went down. The round had punched through his neck. Blood poured.
Private First Class Josephine started toward him; Kern caught her arm.
“Stay cold.”
“…Yes, sir.”
“We open the breach first.”
Josephine clenched her teeth, heaving chest and all, and fell back into formation.
The next moment, the Union trench showed a meaningful response.
Ratatatat!
Hess’s barrier shuddered; hairline cracks spidered across it.
…Found you.
I smiled.
Between collapsed sandbags and steel plate—a small firing slit.
I brought the muzzle to bear at once.
“Front right, machine-gun nest.”
“Confirmed. Range three-twenty. Fire authorized.”
Through the plate I could see a Union soldier’s face. Bare eyes, no magic, and still this clear—I was almost proud of myself.
I squeezed the trigger.
Crack!
A neat hole opened in the gunner’s head.
The machine gun tried to move again. The assistant beside him had shoved the corpse aside and grabbed the grips.
Clack—spent casing ejected.
I held my breath for the second shot.
Crack!
Second gunner down.
Crack!
Beside us, Corporal Roth’s rifle cracked. A third man who had been holding the ammo belt dropped.
…Impressive. He hit a soldier I couldn’t even see from my angle.
“Forward!”
Hess shouted again.
I looked front. The situation was bad. Even after the barrage, more than half the wire remained.
Sergeant Vogel crawled out under the barrier and shoved a long charge beneath the wire.
“Down!”
Boom!
Wire and clods of earth sprayed in every direction.
A razor-sharp strand whipped out and laid open one soldier’s cheek in a long gash.
A path opened.
Kern shoved men forward by the back.
Once everyone was into the trench, we were last through the gap.
Ah.
I felt something.
The same sensation that had warned me of the shell a moment ago.
Left.
I ducked on pure reflex.
Ralph beside me copied the motion for no reason at all.
Boom!
An explosion— a turret detonated on the flank.
Hess flung up a barrier in time to take the blast head-on, but he couldn’t stop the shrapnel flying every way.
Several fragments scythed through the space where our heads had been a second earlier. Ralph staggered and put a hand on my shoulder.
“You hit?”
“I’m not. Your speech just got casual again.”
“S-sorry.”
“Just move.”
We were both caked in mud.
We could still walk, so… probably fine.
Hess shifted the B Magic forward again.
Clang!
A single round shattered the barrier.
Durability limit?
Mana exhaustion?
Blood ran from Hess’s nose. He wiped it on his sleeve at once, drew his pistol, and began covering fire.
“Grenades!”
Grenadiers pulled pins; black lumps arced into the Union trench.
Three seconds later, screams rose from the far side.
“In!”
The Union trench zigzagged its earth walls into bends. Even after taking the first sector you still had to fight through several corners to reach the next.
A vicious design—combat at every turn.
The Imperial answer was simple.
Stop before the bend. Throw grenades. Throw more. Keep throwing.
Throw until the screaming stops and the trench goes quiet… then enter.
Once inside, riflemen shot or bayoneted the dead.
A long time passed that way.
We kept clearing sectors. Tedious repetition. I saw human corpses more times than I could count.
My head felt numb.
The expression on a dying face was always the same.
…It was fun at first. I’m getting sick of it.
I reloaded mechanically.
Bolt up—clack—draw back. Eject the casing, push forward, down. Squeeze the trigger.
Bolt again…
How long?
My ears weren’t working well.
“Sector Three secured! Swing the machine gun and block the bend!”
“Yes, sir!”
“Bremer—connection?!”
“Connecting now!”
We shoved corpses aside and sealed the entrance. Restacked collapsed sandbags and began the work of occupation.
Crackle.
The field telephone, charged with a mana stone, broadcast static.
“Company HQ, this is Second Platoon. Sector Three secured. Do you read?”
“…Second Platoon? Second Platoon, respond. Second Platoon.”
I looked slowly around.
Ralph Schwartz was a communications man; he should be by the phone.
Lucky him.
Inhale, exhale…
I sucked on the inhaler and dropped onto the mud.
I looked beside the telephone.
…?
Someone’s hand was on the phone. A familiar hand. The one that had rudely touched my shoulder.
The other hand was pressing a wound in his side. Dark red blood had dried between the fingers.
Shell fragments were embedded in his coat and back.
“…Ralph?”
Crackle.
The line was still open. Second Lieutenant Eriich Hess did not spare Ralph Schwartz’s corpse so much as a glance.
Ah.
So this is the kind of place it is.
Sergeant Misty shook me.
“Snap out of it.”
“Ah…”
“Are you all right?”
“Yes.”
Well. I don’t particularly feel anything.
Urgh.
Nausea rose.
Will it be like this when I die too?
A future where no one pays me any attention—isn’t that too cruel?
I hate that.
I absolutely hate that.
I’m going to die surrounded by people, in the middle of attention and gazes.
I want many people to mourn me after I’m gone. I want them to shed tears for me. I want them never to forget me.
I will never end up like Ralph Schwartz. I don’t want to die that cheaply.
I…
My hands were trembling. I still felt like vomiting. My head spun.
Ah. I understood.
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