That Day
That day.
North of the Flowing Snow Mountain.
A road that should never have existed had been carved through the pure white range.
Where a fluid mix of snow and water once rose and fell without end, the path now lay split open on both sides, frozen hard as stone.
Union soldiers marched through that fissure. Infantry and artillery, supply trucks laden with mana stones, and tracked tow vehicles poured endlessly over the mountains.
The column of troops in white winter gear stretched beyond the horizon.
“Lead elements confirm entry into Imperial territory.”
“Artillery?”
“Through the range as far as the third column.”
“Good.”
The Union officer lowered his binoculars.
Beyond the silent snow peaks, the Empire’s northern plains unfurled.
The border no one had crossed for centuries. The Empire’s impregnable bastion.
Every last shred of that faith would be trampled today beneath tens of thousands of boots.
“All forces, advance.”
Dawn broke.
In the north the Empire had believed safest, the Union’s grand offensive began—and history would record it as one of the Empire’s greatest blunders.
And one person alone stood against that blunder.
Three days after crossing the northern range, the column of the Union’s 8th Mountain Division stretched deep into Imperial territory. Sergeant Owen Mercer was walking the frozen road when he saw the communications private just ahead of him, Michael Hale, drop.
The gunshot reached him only after Hale’s face had already buried itself in the snow.
Bang.
A hole punched clean through the center of the helmet.
Mercer looked up. In the middle of the overcast sky hung a single black speck the size of a person.
“…Shit—sky! Everyone take cover!”
A second shot followed.
The soldier carrying the company flag crumpled. The third round tore through an artillery officer’s throat.
The fourth slammed into the cab of a supply truck; the vehicle veered off the road and buried itself in a snowbank.
Men threw themselves under rocks and vehicles. The bullets did not stop.
The woman in the sky shifted position with unhurried grace, hunting every angle that still offered a clear line.
Every time a shot rang out, a man fell. Not a single round missed.
“It’s the Void Step Star! The Void Step Star!”
The moment her name left someone’s lips the formation shattered.
Soldiers scattered in blind panic.
A Star’s name carries terrible weight.
Void Step Star Anke Mauer.
The Imperial Star who had, alone, delayed the northern army’s advance for days now floated overhead.
Mercer yanked the dead Hale’s coat over himself. The hope that a corpse would hide him lasted only a heartbeat.
Bang.
The round punched through Hale’s back and buried itself in the snow beside Mercer’s cheek. Hot blood ran down his face.
A small voice drifted down from the sky.
“There you are.”
The muzzle swung toward Mercer. The trigger was pulled.
…?
Even though the trigger had been squeezed, no shot sounded.
He was still whole. Still alive.
A man in a gray officer’s greatcoat stepped out onto the snowfield.
The bullet that had been flying toward Mercer hung motionless before his eyes. The warhead, caught in midair, dropped limply into the snow.
Stagnation Star Ethan Ward.
The Union’s eighth Star.
His Unique Magic: any flow that entered his range simply ceased to flow.
“Take the wounded and fall back.”
Major Ethan Ward, Stagnation Star, looked up at the sky.
Mauer immediately swung her rifle and fired. Three rounds streaked for Ward’s head and chest; all three stopped dead just short of his body.
“That magic… so you’re the child who stopped the snow mountain.”
“You delayed us three whole days.”
“Sorry. It’s going to take a little longer. Heh.”
Mauer kicked off empty air and shot sideways. She dove, circled behind Ward, and fired again.
The bullet froze in front of his nape.
Ward reached out, but Mauer was already gone. Hundreds of snowflakes hung perfectly still in the space she had just occupied.
The duel between the two Stars lasted until the sun stood high overhead.
Mauer never stopped changing altitude and angle as she fired. Ward caught every bullet and sealed off every path she left behind her, one by one.
Zones of frozen snow and halted rounds multiplied across the sky.
The routes open to Mauer shrank steadily.
When she twisted left, a wall of motionless flakes blocked her. When she dropped, unmoving air seized her uniform.
Even so she kept killing Union soldiers.
While Ward stopped her bullets she shot men from another angle; when he moved to shield the troops she turned her rifle on him at once.
The longer the fight dragged on, the worse both of them looked.
Mauer’s left arm was soaked in blood; her winter gear hung in tatters.
Ward’s lips had gone pale; blood from his nose ran down his chin and dripped away.
“Could you… please back off a little?”
“Mm. No.”
“Are you going to pay my overtime?”
Mauer dropped low, a blue barrier flaring in front of her.
The finishing move.
A rapid string of rounds froze in front of Ward. The last one did not stop.
She was not the only one who had gambled everything.
Stagnation Star Ethan Ward allowed a single bullet through in exchange for freezing the mana flow beneath Void Step Star Anke Mauer’s left foot.
The invisible foothold vanished. Her stance collapsed. She tried to form a new platform under her right foot, but Ward’s second spell struck her torso first.
Mauer hung motionless in the air.
Not a strand of hair moved, not a fold of her uniform. Only her eyes, looking down at the ground, narrowed slightly.
“Using a method like this…”
“I have you.”
Ward opened his fingers.
The hold released and Mauer plummeted.
A blue barrier tried to form just before she hit the ground, but it never finished.
She tumbled down the snow-covered slope again and again, then vanished into a ravine inside Imperial territory.
No movement came from the impact site.
Ward stared into the ravine for a long moment before his knees gave way. Medics rushed in to check his wounds.
“…No pursuit teams. A Star is not something you can handle. First reorganize the column and resume the march. We must seize the northern plains before Imperial forces can gather.”
Ward issued the orders to his officers.
Only after every last shot had fallen silent did Sergeant Mercer crawl out from under Hale’s body.
Surviving soldiers rose from beneath rocks and vehicles; it seemed Mercer had not been the only coward.
The sky without a Star recovered its peace.
At the same hour, on the eastern edge of the World Tree Alliance, outskirts of Montclair.
Alchemy Star Rusalka de Vaucouleurs left the Imperial envoy standing at her door while she brewed tea.
Herbs hung upside-down from the ceiling; glass bottles and metal instruments crowded every shelf and table.
The Imperial envoy refused to give up. He waited for hours for the Alchemy Star to open the door.
“Hah… persistent little thing.”
At last she opened it, grumbling.
She greeted her guest with a cup of tea in hand, but Imperial Colonel Dietrich Werner did not touch the cup.
“Union forces have crossed the northern range.”
“I know. And?”
“……”
“So what do you want me to do about it?”
Alchemy Star Rusalka de Vaucouleurs was one of the Ancient Stars who had once served the Empire as an alchemist.
Now she was one of the leaders of the World Tree Alliance; the Empire hoped to tug on old ties and drag the Alliance into the war.
There was just one problem…
“Get lost.”
“Please stop the Union army.”
“What about those fake Stars you people are so proud of?”
“…Lieutenant Anke Mauer was wounded and her whereabouts remain unconfirmed.”
“Unfortunately I can’t move the Alliance by myself.”
Rusalka’s words were true.
The World Tree Alliance had originally been a collection of small, powerless nations; it possessed no single true leader.
Every matter, large or small, was decided by vote, and Rusalka was merely one of the many chieftains who held voting rights.
Rusalka alone could decide nothing.
“…Then move yourself.”
“Boy, do you even understand what you just said?”
“Yes.”
“No. You don’t. You understand nothing. The Ancient Stars made a pact with one another, and that pact must be kept. I cannot break it.”
Imperial envoy Dietrich Werner refused to yield.
“Even so, I beg you…”
“Shut your mouth.”
“…!”
Dietrich Werner’s mouth sealed shut. It simply vanished.
He breathed calmly through his nose and stared at the Alchemy Star with eyes gone huge.
An incomprehensible mystery—a fragment of the mythic magic wielded by the Ancient Stars. Magic that no longer existed.
Snap!
She flicked her fingers and Dietrich Werner’s mouth returned to its proper place.
“Hah… hah…”
“I’m not even a proper mage and I can do this much. What kind of magic do you think a real mage can handle?”
“……”
“If one Ancient Star breaks the pact and moves, the other Ancient Stars who have kept their neutrality will move as well. Can you handle it if the Gold Ore Star or the Musician starts walking?”
Dietrich Werner kept his mouth shut and bowed his head deeply.
“…I apologize.”
“If you understand, get out of my sight.”
“Yes.”
The day the World Tree Alliance received word of the Empire’s situation, the Alliance chieftains gathered in one place.
They voted.
Whose side would they take? Which Star was falling?
And whose flesh looked more appetizing.