8

A bit short, a skirmish

The Empire, as expected, met the enemy again today on the Blackbird Plains—same as yesterday.

Both sides had spread their forces across the plain, ready to fight at any moment.

The battlefield still bore the heavy marks of yesterday’s clash—scattered wreckage of Abnomyle everywhere. The ground was pitted and uneven, probably harder to fight on than before.

One wrong move, and your feet might catch on a loose part or a hole. Gotta keep an eye out for that.

Thinking that, I’m setting up magic on a gentle slope at the rear of the unit.

“Eld, how’s the machine holding up?”

Batis, standing right beside me, called out.

I answered while checking the monitor.

“Fine. Got the enemy’s formation figured out?”

"Yeah, intel just came down from the front. Enemy squad’s got seven Abnomule units straight ahead—each one’s got an Armunale slung on, one per unit. The two we fought yesterday? They’re sitting back in reserve. Probably ’cause you weren’t out front to draw their fire?"

"Convenient. Means I can cast calm now."

Finished the system check, I glanced outside.

The two armies stared each other down—no sudden moves, no real changes.

So if their squad’s seven strong, and seven Armunales to go with it… might as well aim for those. Would’ve preferred the two from yesterday, but they’re hidden behind the enemy wall—can’t even guess where they are.

So then. This whole fight’s about setting up something favorable. That’s my job.

"Supply units ready?"

I’m good! Tube connection complete. Can pump fuel from the tank anytime.

Alright, let’s test it. Just feed a little in here.

Got it.

Just to be safe, I’ll request a refill for what we’ve used so far. The gauge spikes up right away—full tank.

Good, no issues.

No abnormalities here either.

Then go tell the squad leader we’re ready over here.

Roger that!

One of the soldiers dashes off toward the squad leader.

The rest of the units are already primed—launch order’ll come any second now.

Sights are locked on the four Armunale units leading the Abnomule force. They said they can handle up to four at once, by adjusting the mirror count. But anything beyond that? The physical processors—sensors boards, they call them—probably can’t keep up. Blow up if we push it too far.

So, lock on four units for sure.

"Targeting set, calculation started, solar incidence angle input, focus position set, lens deployed, mirror position set, targeting lock complete."

I watch the meter drop fast—concentrated magical liquid (Hyimagia Liquid)—as I lock on to the four Armunales.

At the same time, an alert blares inside the cockpit.

Physical processor (sensor board) temperature is rising. Still within acceptable limits, but rising sharply enough to trigger the alarm.

Guess locking onto four units really does strain it.

"Pushing you again, I know. But just a little more, okay? We can do this—me and you."

I brush the monitor blinking with the alert.

Then, Commander Jade’s voice cuts through.

"Full force—attack!"

"Armunale, activate!"

In sync with the squad leader’s command, the entire army moves—me too, I unleash the magic.

Around the machine holding the Artifigoj, countless mirrors float into place, catching and focusing the light bent through lenses.

I’m wrapped in a torrent of light—every camera bleeds white.

The focused beams, refracted through lenses and mirrors, stretch out toward the enemy like four blazing spears.

Almost instantly, four hits.

The cockpit lit up—within a heartbeat, the armor burns through, vaporizing the pilot along with the machine.

Four times over.

To the enemy, it must’ve been pure confusion. They’d only know—suddenly, beams of light shot from behind, piercing through the Armunale.

But this isn’t the end.

I nudge the mirror a few millimeters. The beam that was illuminating the enemy shifts horizontally, slicing through the Abnomyle troops surrounding it like a hot knife through butter.

Pure, one-sided slaughter—by light.

The beam moves slow, but the enemy doesn’t understand what’s happening. They freeze in place, unable to react, each unit stuck like a deer in the headlights. And if their commander’s Armunale is down? Even worse.

Their voices are too far away to hear, but the panic’s clear enough.

Fifty-plus Abnomyle units—four commander Armunales—gone before we even started fighting. And now our forces are charging straight in. No wonder they’re rattled.

But this is war.

No mercy.

"Magic ended. Heat dissipation starting. Concentrated mana liquid (Hyimagia Liquid) at thirty percent. Guess we can’t keep fighting like this. Batis!"

"Yo, two units coming in fast from the other side!"

It was the Eight General Knight Kazas and the hedonist Rizet's mechs.

"Wait for the resupply to finish."

"Leave it to me. If Eld can do it, there’s nothing I can’t!"

Batis’s mech drew its sword from the back holder and charged toward the two approaching units.

I watched its back as I stared hard at the fuel gauge, willing the resupply to finish just a little faster.

"Report the damage! What in the blazes happened?!"

Kazas, waiting by the rear of the unit, shouted, voice cracking at the sudden flash and the unit’s collapse.

"Sir, calm down. That was clearly magic."

You can’t be serious—no way my machine could pull off magic like that!

Physical attacks are even more impossible. We’ve gotta find the source and shut it down—next time, we’re done for.

I know that!

Reporting!

A soldier approached, saluting sharply as he looked up at the two machines.

"Enemy attack appears to be thermal magic. All severed ends of the destroyed units were completely burned through."

"Magic... the source?!"

"Likely from a machine in the enemy Abnomyle unit's rear—upraised left arm, iron pillar style!"

"A one-armed one! Not you again!"

"Sir, I’m going!"

Rizet moved the instant she heard Eld had caused this mess.

Kansas boosted her generator output, already channeling magic.

"I’m going too! Not letting you fire that second shot! Units with no casualties keep advancing—push back the enemy! Units that took damage, regroup and follow your commander!"

"Understood!"

Then, using the monitor’s zoom function, I confirm Rizet’s location.

Rizet’s machine was cutting straight through the battlefield, but just past the Abnomüller unit, it was blocked by a machine wielding a greatsword in both arms.

"That’s the guard, then."

I immediately activate magic, aiming for the guard’s feet.

A strike I’ve rarely missed before. This time, I was certain—my aim was true, the leg of that machine connecting with Rizet’s body would be pierced clean through. In fact, I’d even gotten better, thanks to understanding Rizet’s movements—more precise, more targeted.

But, to my surprise, the attack was dodged.

A slight shift of the foot—like he’d known the attack was coming all along.

Seeing that, Kansas instantly realized his own attack patterns had been read.

“Ah… so the shooting pattern’s been analyzed.”

Just as Kansas and the others had studied Eld’s movements, Eld had studied Kansas’s shooting patterns—and was now giving advice to Batis.

“But my weapon isn’t only for long range, you know?”

A small smile curled at the corner of his lips inside the cockpit. Kansas nudged his machine forward.

“Whoa, whoa—didn’t hear that part.”

Batis yelped from the cockpit, watching Kansas charge straight toward him after just one spell.

The damn thing in front of me—just keeping Rizet under control is tough enough—but now Kansas’s charging straight at me? That’s more than I can handle.

“Eld, you still there?!”

“Still here.”

“Wait—something’s coming at us from behind!?”

“Hmm. They’ve figured out my shooting pattern. Guess the Eight Generals weren’t just for show.”

“Can you be impressed later?!”

Swinging his greatsword to push Rizet back, Eld flings a complaint over his shoulder.

“Just half a minute more. Hold on a bit longer.”

“Got it! You’re buying me dinner at the capital’s best restaurant, got it? Yesss!”

He plants his foot hard, swings the sword down.

Rizet sidesteps with a step, swings the axe at the exposed upper body—but the other sword blocks it.

“You’re not half bad, are you?”

“Hah—been grinding my guts out trying to catch up and pass that idiot! Ain’t no ordinary bunch like me, am I!”

“Then entertain me, why don’t you!”

“Squeal all you want!”

Oddly enough, the two fighters, both wielding weapons in either hand, moved with eerie similarity.

Right-hand weapon as the pivot—left one closing the gaps.

Again and again, blades clashed, parried, rebounded.

Meanwhile, Kansas’s machine drew near—alive, breathing. In its hand, a sword it shouldn’t have been holding.

“That’s an Ice Sword…”

“Spot on. Know this, Your Grace? Even now you’re all magic, but back then? They called you a charging boar—full of blunt force, no finesse!”

“Hah—just charge straight ahead? That’s easy enough!”

A light backstep to create space, then intercept Kansas’s rushing Ice Sword as it came in.

In that split second, Rizet came circling in from the left.

Batis activated the magic he’d been hiding, just as planned.

A sharp *pop*—the sword in his left hand shot forward, blazing with speed.

“What?!”

Rizet barely dodged, lunging to avoid the cut. But her chest armor still took a scratch.

“Damn. Missed.”

“Hm. Acceleration magic, huh. Predictable, but effective enough with a zweihander dual-wield.”

“Tch. Packing in tricks like that. You’re a real technician, aren’t you?”

“Told you—gotta make you squeal, didn’t I?”

“Sweat you? Maybe you’re just a little too green for that.”

Once used, it couldn’t be a surprise again. And time-wise, Batis didn’t need to fight long. All he had to do was buy Eld enough time to finish resupplying. So he let loose without holding back—pounding out spell after spell.

Here we go, then!

The swords in both hands swing in time with the acceleration. Batis, using centrifugal force to his advantage, carefully adjusts his balance, as if he might be thrown off the machine entirely, and swings the blades toward two enemy units.

"Rizet, if you don’t dodge properly, you’ll get skewered clean through—watch out."

You know it, don’t you? This is your first real close fight in ages—watch out for the rust, yeah?

The moment Batis’s machine halted, two of them lunged in.

"Damn it, just had to look right at me, didn’t you?"

Batis stepped forward into the attack of the two machines, throwing off their timing, then drove his greatsword into the ground and vaulted over Rizet’s cockpit like a pole vaulter.

Eld’s the kind of move he always makes at Artifigouge.

"Phew, this is bad."

Land with a thud behind Rezett, spinning mid-air to swing the blade.

Rizet shoved the axe into the ground, startled but managing to stop it.

You move just like a one-armed man, don’t you! Getting interesting, isn’t it!

I said it, didn’t I? Keep up, pass them, that’s the way!

Batis, watch out!

Sorry to be a bother, but I’m in a hurry—this way, please.

“Wha—!?”

Batis, completely relaxed toward Kansas thanks to Rizet’s intervention, noticed Eld’s voice and glanced at Kansas’s機体.

I saw the ice spear fly straight at my cockpit—right in my face.

“Shim—”

The ice spear shot past the Rizet machine, whistling straight for the cockpit.

I forced the machine to move—but couldn’t quite dodge in time.

The cockpit shuddered as the armor grated and scraped under violent impact.

“Ghah…”

"Too bad! You weren’t in the mood to play, were you!"

"You bastard!"

Batis barely dodged the ice spear’s direct hit—but his right arm was blown clean off from the shoulder, and he staggered back hard. That’s when Rezett lunged in.

Batis desperately parried Rezett’s axe with just his left arm’s sword, but the impact from the ice spear had damaged the circuits—his movements grew sluggish, clumsy.

"Haha, that’s the end of you!"

Rezett’s axe swung down, severing his left shoulder clean through.

With both arms gone, Batis’s machine stood stiff as a pole, top-heavy and useless.

Then the second axe came down.

"Not gonna end here!"

Batis lunged forward with a single step, slamming his whole body into Rezett.

Rezett sidestepped easily, and as they passed, she split his waist clean open.

The impact sent the machine toppling, skidding across the ground.

“This is it, then.”

With both arms gone, the machine couldn’t even lift itself up.

“Yeah… guess my part’s done.”

“Then go out clean—die!”

Rozett brought the axe down like splitting firewood, aiming straight for the cockpit.

“Leave it to you, Eld.”

“Leave it to me.”

The axe was deflected by Eld’s gunfire.

“Well then, sorry to keep you waiting. Now it’s time for a change of player.”

Rozett stared at the monitor—there, a one-armed machine stood poised, harmonica pistol in hand.