4
As we headed toward the command center, Monsieur Blois gave me the lowdown on the magi-vehicle.
Honestly, it's just a downgraded version of the Armunale.
Honestly, the Armunale’s running on specially concentrated magic fluid—Magia Liquid—through a unique generator just to keep that massive frame moving. It needs that kind of power. So if it were a smaller, magitech vehicle, even regular, un-concentrated Magia Liquid would be enough.
No need for a concentration process—Armunale runs far cheaper than it does.
Sure, magic carriages are still fancy things—only the upper nobles and rich merchants can afford to use them daily. Seems like horse-drawn carriages are still more common, what with the upkeep, repairs, and all the infrastructure needed to keep the magic ones running.
And even just plain mana fluid—magia liquid—can only be produced in four towns across the Fatal Kingdom, so running out mid-journey wouldn’t be a joke.
People who own magi-cars don’t use them for work so much anymore. Mostly just for fun, driving around like it’s some kind of game.
The engines in these magi-cars? They’re used in all sorts of things—cranes at the Armunale workshop, elevators in the palace, fancy inns, the usual.
Once development costs drop, I bet they’ll spread to bigger towns, too. Ah, if there were investments to be made, I’d be all over that…
While I’m still thinking how to make a quick buck out of this, the magi-car rolls up to the front of the command center.
“Here we are. Bnoi, you’re saved.”
“No, I’ll be returning the magi-car now.”
When the captain and I stepped down from the magi-car, Bnoi turned it around and drove back the way we’d come.
“This is Armunale HQ. If you join the Armunale squad, you’ll be coming here more often. Better remember it—no harm in that.”
“Ah, yes.”
It was a five-story stone building, near the heart of town. Most of the surrounding buildings looked much the same—hard to tell one from another just by sight.
The only thing that marked this place as headquarters was the big flag hanging from the wall and the wooden sign hanging by the entrance.
The sign had a stylized Armunale emblem carved into it, and above it, “Armunale General Command” was written in bold.
“Come on.”
The captain went inside, so I followed.
The ground floor was one big open space, like a company’s front desk.
The captain headed straight for the front desk, talking with the girl there. From a distance, she looked quite pretty. No surprise—she’s the face of the headquarters, after all.
But that smile… was it fake? Or was it real? Right when the captain spoke to her, her smile seemed to brighten even more. Bodwan, captain of the Armunale unit—handsome, strong, and already on the fast track to elite status. Maybe he’s got more fans than I thought.
Speaking of which… is the captain married? I wonder what the marriage rate’s like in the Armunale unit. For Ange’s sake, I’d like to know.
“Sorry to keep you waiting. I’m told I can see the commander right away.”
Seemed like the captain had been checking the commander’s schedule. Ah— the receptionist’s smile had snapped back to normal. Guess that grin was just for Bodwan captain, then.
The captain, clueless as ever, marched straight toward the stairs and started climbing up to the top floor. In a modern building, five stories would almost certainly mean an elevator—but here, even nine floors was no big deal to climb on foot. In fact, elevators were practically unheard of unless a building had ten or more stories. Healthy, I suppose…
Panting just a little, I reached the fifth floor.
The captain didn’t even break a sweat. Should’ve been impressed, I guess.
At the top floor, there were only two doors—one right beside the stairs, and another on the opposite side. Only two rooms in the whole top floor.
The captain walked over to the nearer door and knocked.
Captain Bodowan of the Thirty-First Armunale. I’ve come to report on the mission and discuss something with you.
"Put it in."
Excuse me.
The captain opens the door and steps inside. I'm wondering if I should go in too, when a voice comes from the room.
"Come on in, you back there."
Guess he knew I was here all along. But reading vibes through a door—what kind of expert is that… Anyway, good thing I don’t have to worry about it.
Excuse me.
The room was no bigger than a small conference chamber, hung with lavish furnishings and paintings.
The rug on the floor was so fluffy, stepping on it in shoes felt like a crime.
To my right, a sofa and a table. To the other side, a big desk. Files piled high on it, and a man there, fingers flying like he’s got a hundred things to do. Doesn’t even glance this way. Or maybe he already knows I’m here… no telling what’s going on behind that face.
“Good to see you. Sit on the sofa and wait a moment. Just finishing up these papers. Anyone here!”
“Right here.”
The general’s voice rang out, and from the corner of the room, a door slid open. A maid stepped out.
Right then, my spirits leapt up inside.
A maid! A proper, old-fashioned British-style maid—no skimpy skirts, no silly “cute” nonsense, just pure, simple elegance. But—holy moly—she looks like a dainty Japanese flower girl. That’s cheating.
“Bring them drinks. And my own, please.”
“Understood.”
She bowed once, crisp and quiet, then vanished back through the door.
A proper lady, every move of hers so graceful…
I was still staring at the door, dazed, when Captain Bodwan leaned in and whispered.
“She’s the head commander’s personal maid. Once you join Armunale, each squad gets one or two support maids assigned to them.”
“O-oh, really!? So… that means your squad has one too!?”
“Mm-hmm. This time it was just a short, local mission—she’s been waiting in town. But on long-term assignments like border patrols? Without someone to handle the little things, my life’d be a mess.”
Ah, right—Armunale’s crew’s a tight little bunch. The captain’s the pilot,副長 and Ritz are mechanics, and Bnois is a scout who’s often off-duty. And Carine’s always busy with the mobility matrix—sensing board, whatever you call it. Honestly, I can’t picture Carine doing housework. So they’ve got a support maid to handle the crew’s health and such.
“By the way, the support maids are all real beauties.”
“Yeah, that’s a relief—but seriously, isn’t Armunale all men? How’s that work?”
Throwing a bunch of beauties into that mix? Who knows what’ll happen. Especially after a fight—heard the mood gets real charged, you know?
…Though I doubt they’d expect me to handle that kind of mess.
I’m fine. Our support maids are trained to fight even on the battlefield. While we’ve been studying Armunale, they’ve kept focusing mainly on hand-to-hand combat. Honestly, even if you surrounded them with Armunale members, you couldn’t pin them down.
How elite they must be…
That’s why you don’t need to worry, Eld.
Huh…
Well, that’s different if they’ll accept us, I suppose.
Anyway, joining the Armunale unit means the maids’ll take care of my daily chores. That’s a nice perk.
Just as the commander finished sorting through the paperwork and came over, we started to stand up—then the commander stopped us.
“Don’t mind me. Stay seated.”
When the commander sat down on the opposite sofa, the maid returned just as planned, setting a teacup in front of each of us.
A pleasant aroma rose from the teacups.
"Hmm, looks like we’ve got a strange boy here. Bodwan—does this concern him?"
"Yes. His name is Eld. A boy from the village we visited on this mission."
"Eld, fifteen years old. Pleasure to meet you."
"Morris Levoff, commander of the Armunale unit. Seems like you’ve got your manners down."
He smiled, just a little, like he’d caught me out.
…That’s the part about me hesitating outside the door earlier, isn’t it?
"Still, before we get to him, perhaps it’d be clearer if we report on the mission first? Would that be acceptable?"
"Good enough. Right, there was a report about enemy Armunale showing up, wasn’t there?"
"Yes, I’ll explain step by step."
Captain Bodwan relayed what the village chief and I had said to the Commander. At first, the Commander listened with a serious face, but halfway through, a hard edge crept into his expression.
Then, when I mentioned I’d driven them off, he stared at me like I’d grown a second head. Well, fair enough. A kid from a backwater farm who’d never had proper training, riding an Armunale for the first time and kicking the enemy out—anyone’d think it was a fairy tale.
But I’ve got the machine itself, safely recovered. And a few scraps of the enemy Armunale, too. Evidence? Solid.
When the captain finished, the Commander rubbed his temples and let out a long, slow breath.
"Right. No doubt about it. The enemy was from Du Librepol."
"Yeah, I think so too."
"Du Librepol?"
The unfamiliar name slipped out before I could stop myself.
"Oh, sorry."
"Not a problem. Du Librepol's the only mercenary group that can operate Armunale without relying on any nation. A real pain in the neck—no idea who they are, where they came from. The kingdoms are fed up with them, honestly."
"Such an organization actually exists?"
I knew they weren’t part of the regular army, but I didn’t expect something like this. Wait—no nation dependence means they’ve got their own way to make concentrated mana fluid—Hyimagia Liquid, right?
What kind of crew is that, anyway...
"Anyway, where’s the recovered unit now?"
"In Hangar Three, Third Storage Bay."
"Right. I’ll check it out later."
"Then, about the real reason I called you..."
"Yeah, about this boy here."
Their eyes lock onto me. Military men’s stares—god, they’re heavy. Makes your bones feel like they’re folding in on themselves.
“I’d like to recommend him for the Academy, based on his own wishes.”
“Hm. Your call. No objections, then?”
“Just… the early admission period’s already closed. I was wondering if I could ask the Commander to make an exception. Letting his skills sit idle for half a year? Honestly, that’d be a waste.”
“Ah. So you’re asking if we can make room for him?”
I’d already heard that from the captain.
Admission to the Academy runs from January through early February. Then the exams are held in early March, and decisions are made by mid-March. It’s already late March now—well past the cutoff, and the exam date passed ages ago.
Next入学’s gonna be six months from now, so for the next half-year, I’m stuck here with nothing to do. Not like there’s any hunting grounds around a place like this, and with my pocket empty as a church bell, I’d be lost without a clue.
So the captain’s been begging the commander to squeeze me into the early intake somehow.
Funny thing—anyone with a recommendation from the current Armunale squad leader or three squad members gets the test waived. So if they’d just set a seat aside, that’d be that…
The way Captain Bodwan’s gone to bat for me—what a gem.
“Is this really the kind of talent that makes you go to such lengths?”
The commander’s gaze pierces right through me. I straighten up, don’t move a muscle, just stare back dead ahead, face to face.
This place feels like one where you’ve got to show your nerve. Look away, and you’ve already lost.
“Hm. Good. I’ll secure a spot for you. Have you settled on a place to live yet?”
“No, not yet.”
“Then a dorm’s necessary. I’ll have it ready for you by today. Sette.”
“Yes.”
“Take him to the dorm later. And I’ll write a letter right away—give it to the dorm master.”
“Understood.”
The maid bows and retreats into the inner room.
“That’s the gist of it.”
“Thank you for the consideration.”
“Thank you.”
“Don’t mention it. I want top talent as soon as possible. This is a recommendation from Bodwan, who’s never suggested anyone before. So the expectations on you are high.”
“No problem. I’ll make sure the Armunale is mine yet.”
“Good one. I’m counting on you. Now, wait here a moment—I’ll write a note for the dormitory head. Bodwan and I will head to the storage vault later.”
“Understood.”
In a few minutes, the commander finished writing the letter and handed it to the maid. I followed the maid out of the room.
“The dorm is just near the academy. It’s a bit of a walk, so let’s take a magic carriage.”
“Is that alright? I’ve heard magic carriages aren’t used much in the military.”
It’s not that I’m in a rush. I could walk, if needed.
“No problem at all. It’s my personal vehicle.”
“Seriously…?”
“Yes, seriously.”
Sette giggled sweetly, then led me to a parking area behind the building. A few magic carriages were lined up there.
One of them—a bright red mini-cooper style vehicle—looked like it belonged to Sette.
"Please."
"Oh—sorry."
Sette opens the door for me, caught off guard by my gawking at the car. Feels like VIP treatment—my manners go all wobbly, just from the sheer nerve of it.
I get in, and Sette hops in quick as a wink, fires up the engine. The motions are almost identical to using an Armunale.
The only difference, really, is the hassle of shifting gears. Guess even in this world, automatics aren’t a thing yet.
"Then, we’re off."
"Please."
The car glides forward, slow and steady. We’re on our way to the dorms.
·
After Eld left the room, Major Morris and Captain Bodwan walked together toward the third storage bay.
"Bodwan, you really think that boy’s worth all that fuss?"
"Yes."
“Defeating an Armunale from Du Librepour in your first battle. Sure, that’s impressive—but not impossible, right?”
If you know how to pilot an Armunale, there are always a few each year who can do it, even if they’re few in number.
Those kids have the kind of instinct that lets them hold their own against a teacher’s machine on their very first try. If that’s the case, Morris thought, then Eld’s feat isn’t impossible to repeat.
“True, a skilled one could manage it. But it’s our nation’s machine. A decade-old wreck, barely functional—can you really say it’d hold up that well?”
“Hm. He did say he repaired it himself, didn’t he? Amateur fix, one arm missing, old-style maneuvering calc board—sure, that’s tough. But—”
There’ve gotta be fighters left. The ones chosen to ride Armunale—they’re the kind who’ve got that rare gift, after all.
But Bodwan didn’t issue a recommendation letter to those people.
Yeah, there are folks who can do it—ones who can grasp a machine’s quirks just by nudging it a bit. But the real reason I hold him in such high regard? That’s something else entirely.
“Huh, what’s that?”
Cunning, that’s what it is.
Maurice, the grand commander, frowned, not quite grasping the meaning.
By the time we’d finished talking, we’d reached the third storage bay.
Something about the new unit coming in— the place buzzes with energy.
The commander should know what I meant just by seeing that machine, shouldn’t he?
"Is that so? Then I’ll take a look, shall I?"
The two of them stepped inside the hangar, and Maurice finally understood what Bodwan had meant.
Ah, I see. Definitely clever.
One arm missing, the head shattered.
Every joint already detached, the body reduced to a torso, hanging from a crane.
Still, you can tell.
Eld’s way of fighting. That’s how survivors fight.
Noble soldiers tend to think it’s noble to die cleanly. Rather than live on in shame, they’d rather choose to die—no matter how messy, how filthy—than crawl through the dirt.
The higher the noble, the stronger that tendency. Better to fall on the battlefield than stain the family name, soil the house’s honor.
But that kind of knight? Not welcome in the Armunale unit.
The Armunale unit must survive. Doesn’t matter if it’s dirty, if it’s shameful—none of that matters. They must survive, together with Armunale. Even if they’ve lost, they still have to come back to town.
Otherwise, Armunale’ll be taken by the enemy—turned into a blade driven straight into our homeland.
That’s why the academy drills it into us, day in, day out: survive. But even when you’ve been taught something your whole life, and even when the academy tries to cram it into you in just a few short weeks… well, the old habits still win out on the battlefield.
Which is why Armunale’s academy gathers the best from both commoners and nobles alike. But commoners can’t get their hands on Armunale’s knowledge ahead of time—so by the time they reach the academy, the nobles, who’ve been tutored at home since birth, have already pulled ahead.
That’s why pilots end up mostly nobles.
Which is why someone like Eld is so rare.
A commoner, yet holds deep knowledge of Armunale—has even seen real combat, knows how to survive by any means necessary.
"That’s why I recommended him."
"Hmph. Looks like this year’s students might actually be worth watching."
Before them, the Armunale disassembled piece by piece, and the two of them smiled.