Chapter 1

Chapter 1

The scars of the World War still lingered here and there.

In the height of summer, I had come on a trip to a rural town in Austin near the border.

It was a place that seemed to gather all the best parts of the countryside, with none of the noisy clamor of the city or the factory smoke that blanketed the sky.

The air was clear, the local wine delicious, and the town overflowed with the vitality of its people.

I was visiting this town on a sightseeing trip during my long vacation.

In the previous World War, this town had apparently been the site of the most brutal battles.

If you walked just a little way out of town, they said you could still find empty shell casings scattered everywhere.

Now that peace had come, I wanted to feel the remnants of the World War that had claimed so many lives with my own skin.

"Ah, if you're looking for the battlefield ruins, just keep straight down this road."

"Thank you."

Guided by a local, I made my way toward the plains that had been the stage of the World War. After walking along the well-maintained path for about thirty minutes, I saw the battlefield ruins I'd been seeking.

......The air in that place was clearly different.

Among the sparse weeds, rotting wood jutted out like stakes.

The black soil, trampled flat, had been dug up haphazardly in places as if by moles.

The soil around here should have been yellow earth containing sulfur, so why was only this battlefield cursed black soil?

I felt the malice of history, as if hinting at the tragedy that had unfolded here.

"So this is what's left of the trench."

Though overwhelmed by the unique atmosphere, I walked a little through the overturned clumps of black soil.

In this hole once called a trench, a great many soldiers had once hidden.

Looking closely, I could see the shape of army boots imprinted on the wood stakes driven into the ground. They were the traces of someone planting their feet and meeting the enemy.

My heart pounded at those footprints. I felt as though I could sense the breath of the heroic dead who had fallen on this battlefield.

"......Alright."

Even now, they say that if you dig up the soil around here, you can unearth bones and belongings.

More than ten thousand soldiers went missing on this battlefield, and not all of their bones or belongings have been found.

I began digging in the soil nearby with the shovel I had brought.

If you happen to find belongings on the battlefield, you have to report them to the police.

And it's usually history maniacs like me who turn those belongings in to the police.

This poor rural town has no budget to collect the heroic dead's belongings.

Collecting the belongings proceeds thanks to maniacs drawn by the romance of the battlefield, longing to feel the breath of those who fought here.

"Hm, I hit something."

As one of those maniacs myself, I had hauled the heavy shovel all the way to the ruins, intending to volunteer in the collection effort.

What was buried under this black soil? And what feelings had been poured into whatever lay buried?

My breath slightly ragged, I threw myself into the excavation.

"......Hm."

After digging through the trench ruins for several hours, just as I was thinking I should break for lunch, my shovel struck something.

I hurriedly dug with my bare hands and uncovered something black and leathery. A belonging.

I felt my heartbeat quicken.

From there I carefully dug away the soil around the belonging little by little.

This belonging would be delivered to someone in the bereaved family. I had to dig it up as cleanly as possible so as not to disrespect its owner.

It took a full hour, but I dug the black, gleaming belonging out without damaging it.

"A notebook."

The black gleam had been the cover of a notebook.

The paper was quite old, but protected by the leather cover and seemed to be in good condition.

......Most likely, this was from the time of the war.

"......"

I swallowed hard and slowly, carefully opened the cover.

It made an unpleasant crinkling sound, but opened without tearing.

I could read it. The notebook was a diary written in neat, easy-to-read Austinese.

Several photographs, carefully folded, had faded with time.

For a moment, I felt as though I met the eyes of the expressionless girl in the photos.

I felt my heart thump.

This had to contain the tracks of someone who had raced across the battlefield.

Everything I had wanted to see, everything I had wanted to know, was here.

Forgetting myself, I sat down right there and opened to the first page under the blazing sun.

First, a single sentence written inside the front cover seized my eyes.

To my dear Touri Noel. I do not ask for much—only that you come home safely.

——Noel Orphanage, Director Isaac Fen

***

I intend to make this diary my belonging.

I'm sorry to Director Isaac, who gave me those kind words, but I simply cannot believe I will survive this battlefield.

And so, to whoever finds this diary after my death, I would be grateful if you could deliver it to Director Isaac at Noel Orphanage. Please grant this small wish of the deceased.

I also intend to pour into this diary the anguish and emotions I can no longer contain, so I would appreciate it if you did not show it to others.

......Well, this may come suddenly, but do you know the game genre called FPS? I imagine you've never heard the term.

Whether dream or reality, I had memories of a previous life. They were memories of a far future, a world with a peaceful, advanced civilization.

FPS is the general term for first-person shooting games that were popular in that future world. They were mainly war-themed games where you fought with guns in a virtual world.

A first-person perspective is very difficult.

Depending on your equipment your field of view gets worse, you get motion sickness, and above all if someone circles into your blind spot you can't react.

So it's not uncommon to be running along and suddenly die for no reason.

Yet that's also what makes it fun—there's the thrill of slipping into your opponent's blind spot and killing them unfairly.

In games like that, I was a god.

Superior enemy-spotting, aim that defied common sense, reflexes that responded in split-second shootouts, and above all the ability to read my opponent's mind.

Holding all these to a high standard, I became the world champion of a certain battle-royale game.

I even got corporate sponsors and became a pro.

In peaceful Japan, I was just another game addict.

In a world of war, as long as I held a gun and fought, I was invincible.

In a two-dimensional world, that is.

War in a game is just play.

When the fight ends you can trash-talk the people you shot and laugh together.

"——raaah!"

"Guh."

But in real war—

A soldier stabbed in the neck spews black blood and foam from nose and mouth and never speaks again.

"Hey, kid! Quit spacing out—we're charging!"

"Huh? Ah—yes!"

The platoon leader—a young man almost the same age as me in my previous life—stabbed the attacking soldier to death.

Then he barked orders to those around him and charged bravely into enemy territory.

My mission was to follow him; all I could do was run after the platoon leader's back.

"We're taking this hill! Follow me!!"

Amid the roars and death-cries, the stench of feces and rotting flesh, I splashed through something wet and unidentifiable.

That day, going to war for the first time, I ran up the hill that had been enemy territory, covered in someone's bodily fluids and fat.

Fifty-eight meters. That was the distance we earned today in the war.

A distance we advanced by trampling the lives of many over and over, forward and back.

About eight hundred. That was the number of comrades sacrificed today.

Eight hundred people died for the front line to advance fifty-eight meters.

Human life becomes distance.

Distance is territory. In other words, today our nation's border advanced fifty-eight meters.

"Gahaha! Great victory, eh, kid?"

"......Congratulations. It was thanks to the platoon leader's courage and command."

"Good thing your first battle was under Garback's command. I'll use you up efficiently to the last drop, so rest assured and die!"

I am a medic assigned to the front lines of the western front——the war front with this neighboring country, effective today.

Ha, hahaha.

"I'll earn at least one meter with your life!"

"I intend to fulfill my duties splendidly for the sake of the nation."

"Don't worry. When you die, I'll make sure to properly deliver tales of your bravery to your bereaved family."

Ah. This is insane.

Allow me to introduce myself once more.

I am Touri Noel. Touri is my first name, Noel is my surname.

In my previous life, I was an FPS addict in Japan.

In this life, my gender changed, and I became a girl.

By the way, the name Touri was given to me by the director of the orphanage, and Noel is the name of the place where the orphanage is located.

My parents were apparently killed in a bombardment after being caught up in the war.

However, while the village was being engulfed in the flames of war, there was a villager who happened to find me still alive and carried me all the way to Noel.

And so I was taken in by the Noel Orphanage, which is why I bear the surname Noel.

However, life at the Noel Orphanage was by no means prosperous.

Due to the war, the number of orphans like myself increased, and the orphanage's finances became extremely strained.

We grew wheat and vegetables, picked dandelion leaves which were a local specialty, and solicited donations just to barely make ends meet.

Given such financial circumstances, I was advised to start working once I turned fifteen and became an adult.

"You...... have an aptitude for healing magic."

"Eh, really?"

"I'm sure you'll shine once polished. Would you consider volunteering for the military?"

Austinians are obligated to undergo conscription examination upon reaching adulthood.

However, women are rarely drafted, and I should have had nothing to do with military service,

"Even if you don't volunteer, if you have aptitude for healing magic, you'll eventually be drafted. Better to volunteer and receive various preferential treatments."

"......"

"Volunteers get higher pay, and the orphanage receives subsidies too."

Whether fortunate or unfortunate, I apparently had the rare talent for healing magic.

I ended up volunteering for the military, with hardly any choice in the matter.

"Director, thank you for everything you've done for me."

"......Touri, don't overdo it. If you're injured, don't hesitate to come back, okay?"

However, to be honest, I didn't really mind volunteering.

Because based on my gaming achievements in my previous life, I had confidence that I could become an excellent soldier.

Moreover, unlike my previous life, in this country one never knows when they might lose their life.

In that case,

"When the war ends, I'll come back here again."

"Touri......"

"Director Isaac. Please take care of yourself."

When a soldier dies, a "condolence payment" is issued, and that money is delivered to the bereaved family.

If I designated Director Isaac as the recipient of that condolence payment, even if I died on the battlefield, I could contribute to the orphanage.

I owe a great debt to the Noel Orphanage.

If my life could end at any moment, I wanted to use it in a way that would benefit the orphanage.

Incidentally, this year, two people from the orphanage volunteered for the military.

Myself, and a mischievous boy named Barney Noel.

Barney was the same age as me, and had been my childhood friend since we were little.

He had said that even if he went to the front lines, he would definitely come to see me.

Having an acquaintance on the battlefield was incredibly reassuring.

However.

That same boy was apparently caught in the enemy's bombardment magic during the earlier offensive, burned to a crisp, and died.

Since we shared the Noel surname, I was allowed to view his corpse as if I were family.

The boy who had been talking with a smile just yesterday was lying dead with a pained expression, his body swollen, eyes wide open.

The death of my only acquaintance in the military, my childhood friend, was extremely painful.

Tell me it's a lie.

"Yesterday suddenly became real combat, what terrible luck. The day after yesterday, even the enemy will need to catch their breath."

"......Yes."

The day after being suddenly sent to the battlefield.

Without even time to mourn Barney's death, I was called by Captain Garback and given an orientation.

"Alright. Apparently you can use healing magic. For now, stay behind me and......"

"I can't use it."

"......Huh?"

At this point, I realized that the captain had a major misunderstanding.

While I had indeed been identified as having aptitude for healing magic, I had yet to learn how to use it.

I was only told to learn on the spot, received no training whatsoever, and was sent straight to the front lines.

"......Then what can you do, little girl?"

"I can't do anything."

"Then why the hell did you come here?"

It's not like I wanted to come.

I was sent to the battlefield with virtually no choice in the matter.

Well, if I said that, I'd probably get punched, so I didn't.

"I'll contribute to the country in whatever way I can, even if I can't do anything."

"Ha! You've got guts at least, little girl. Don't get cocky!"

"......Guh!!"

I got punched anyway.

"Right now you're a nuisance, a piece of trash, a parasite wasting food. I'll introduce you to a veteran medic, so hurry up and learn your damn skills!"

"Thank you very much."

This is a cruel world. Is this what real war is like?

Since this is a rather fantasy-heavy world, I thought war would be more cheerful.

Like Hero's magic BOOM! Or Dragon Breath FWOOOSH!

"Then follow me. Don't step on the corpses around here, they're crawling with maggots."

"......I'll be careful."

There weren't any heroes or anything like that. War was the same as in my previous life, just humans brutally killing each other.

Even in a fantasy world, war seems to be a dirty, muddy affair.

"You're the newbie assigned to Garback's unit. My condolences."

"......"

The person I was brought to by the captain with a "Go learn" was a kind-looking older sister in military uniform.

She was a beautiful woman with big breasts, and charming tear-marks under her eyes.

"My name is Gail. My rank is Medical Lieutenant, and I'm the head of this Medical Unit."

"Nice to meet you. I'm Private Second Class Touri."

"Nice to meet you too."

When I responded to her introduction with a salute, Gail returned a smile.

It was such a beautiful smile that it made me want to sigh involuntarily.

"That idiot......ahem, all he can think about is charging, so it must be tough for those who have to work with him."

"No, I've just been assigned, so..."

"Oh, I see. Well, you'll understand soon enough."

Gail, possessor of such stunning beauty, glanced at Captain Garback's retreating figure as he dumped my education on her,

"Garback is excellent as an assault trooper. The thrill of killing enemies outweighs his fear of being killed. He charges into enemy lines without hesitation, and is so ferocious that he achieves considerable results."

She began venting her complaints about him with a troubled expression.

"However, he's also notorious for using his subordinates as shields. The moment he thinks he's overextended, he lops them off like a lizard's tail and is the first to run."

"......"

"And he does it without the slightest guilt. That bastard Garback seems to believe losing his men costs less than losing himself."

As I fumbled for a reply to this sudden bad-mouthing of my superior (Garback), she kept right on talking.

"Still, let me make one thing clear: even a stupid order must be obeyed absolutely. Garback shows no mercy to anyone who disobeys."

"Understood."

"They say if you're executed for defying an order, your family won't even get the condolence payment. So if you're going to die anyway, you might as well die following that idiot's orders."

By that logic, it's practically guaranteed I'll be dead before long.

I'd hoped that by coming to the battlefield I could make at least some use of the FPS skills I'd honed in my previous life...

But every action a soldier takes depends entirely on a superior's orders.

There's almost no chance to act on my own judgment.

"Well then, try to stay alive as long as you can. I'm counting on you from now on."

From everything Gail said, it sounds I've wound up under the worst possible type of superior.

War in a game was so much fun; real war is hell.

Because this world has half-baked fantasy elements, I realize now I was a little too optimistic.

Ahh, I hate myself for volunteering to be a soldier. I should've thrown away all shame and run, without worrying about the orphanage's finances.

But since I'm already in hell, there's nothing I can do. All I can manage is to struggle to survive even one day longer.

"Um, [Heal]! Like this?"

"My, you're quite good."

In the three days since I was assigned to the western front, no major battles had taken place except on the first day.

During that time I, along with several other new recruits, received lectures from Medical Lieutenant Gail.

"Congratulations. With this you're officially a medic."

"Thank you very much."

The lieutenant's lessons were easy to follow, and every rookie medic in our group learned to use recovery magic.

Apparently, once you can use recovery magic in any form, you're recognized as a medic.

Even if, like mine right now, it's only fake recovery magic good for nothing more than healing scrapes.

"There are only a few dozen medics attached to this entire front. In other words, on this vast front line, soldiers who can use recovery magic are just a handful."

"Yes, ma'am."

"You five are an extremely valuable asset. Do your best."

This batch of rookie medics, myself included, totals five.

Nearly a hundred thousand Austinian soldiers are deployed on this front.

Medics make up roughly 0.04 to 0.05 percent of all troops.

Users of recovery magic are exceedingly precious.

"Touri, you have a slightly larger mana pool. So if you work at it, you should be able to cast recovery magic twice."

"Twice..."

My ○○mi seems to have enough mana for two shots. For a dedicated caster, that feels terribly inadequate.

Yet here in front of me, Medical Lieutenant Gail has already used recovery magic four or five times during this single lecture.

"Yes, that's an excellent figure for a rookie."

"For a rookie..."

"Mana can be trained. Survive, rack up experience, and the number of times you can cast will steadily rise. If you can manage more than ten, you may even be transferred to a rear-echelon unit as a first-rate caster."

I see—so the low number is simply because I'm still low-level.

And as a reward for increasing my mana, I get to move to a safer place.

...Isn't that backwards?

"Um, pardon me, but wouldn't it be more efficient to train us healers in the rear first, then send us to the front once we can cast more times...?"

"We don't have the time, space, or facilities to train medics leisurely in the rear. This country's on its last legs; we have no choice but to ship even girls who can barely be called soldiers straight to the front."

I wanted to protest that precious healers should be protected, but clearly there's no leeway for that.

The war's gone on for over ten years. All the best soldiers and instructors must have already died.

That's probably why such an idiotic policy is allowed to stand.

"Ah, that's right. Touri, I'll also teach you the [Shield] spell."

"[Shield], ma'am?"

"Yes. If you're going to follow that Garback around, you'll need some way to protect yourself on the fly. Technically it's a spell for armored troops, but medics often learn it too."

"Anyone interested, gather around Touri," the head of the Medical Unit said, clearing her throat with a small cough.

I'm extremely interested. My odds of survival seem directly linked to that spell.

"This [Shield] deploys a mana barrier."

"A barrier?"

"It'll block light attack spells and thrown objects, but not bombardment magic or bullets."

Where the lieutenant pointed her palm, a thin violet plate like glass appeared.

When I touched it, it felt like a fairly sturdy sheet.

"This can save your life—and your comrades'—in a pinch."

"Ooh..."

"Touri has to learn it, but the rest of you may practice too if you're interested."

Definitely looks useful.

In my previous life's game, I think there was a similar skill; over there it stopped bullets and everything else.

Advice from a veteran medic is truly invaluable.

I'll master every technique she teaches and steel myself for Garback's insane demands.

"How long are you maggots going to sleep!!?"

The fourth day since my assignment to the western front.

"This platoon has just been ordered to launch an assault on enemy territory! Prepare at once!"

"Roger!"

Woken before sunrise by Captain Garback's roar, I staggered out of bed.

My brain barely functions right after waking; apparently we're sortieing immediately.

Ugh... sleeping on the ground has left my whole body sore. I miss the orphanage beds.

"Captain Garback... eh, right now!?"

"You idiot! You dare talk back to an order!?"

I hurriedly changed and began checking my gear, while the rookie private—Salsa, I think—got slugged for mouthing off.

Ah, why step on a landmine on purpose?

"It's not that, sir, it's just that if you'd told us beforehand instead of right before—"

"You there—spy, are you!? Why should I explain vital operations to you ahead of time!"

"I-I'm sorry! That hurts, please stop hitting me!"

Exactly. Low-ranking soldiers like us can't expect to be briefed on when we'll sortie.

That's how it is—a sudden order to move out.

"Mariu's Marine lead squad, three men, ready!"

"Allen recon team, two men, ready!"

"Private Second Class Touri the medic, ready!"

"P-Private Salsa, ready!"

"Good."

This so-called Garback squad is a ten-man unit under Sergeant Garback.

At present it's below full strength because three soldiers were KIA four days ago.

Since then, Private Salsa has been added on the captain's request, bringing us to eight.

Incidentally, Private Salsa is a fresh arrival who reached the front only four days ago—my classmate, so to speak.

"Mariu's team takes point. Allen's team waits beside me. Touri and Salsa, right behind me."

"Understood, Captain."

The soldiers replied to Captain Garback's command with fierce voices.

Having spent the past three days training under Medical Lieutenant Gail, I haven't even exchanged greetings with the rest of Garback's squad.

Now I'm being thrown into a life-or-death team operation with people I've barely spoken to. It's terrifying.

Then again, maybe it's better we didn't get friendly.

The odds that everyone here will live to see tonight are slim.

"Oh, as expected of the Magic Cannon Corps. Hardly any work left for us, huh?"

Today's assault began with long-range bombardment by the Magic Cannon Corps.

Over several hours they steadily burned away the enemy's trenches and earthworks.

This is the standard tactic of the world: before infantry assault, bombardment magic softens up the target and kills enemy troops.

The longer the preparation bombardment, the fewer enemies remain.

That way the territory can be secured with lighter losses.

"Impressive."

"The real stars of war are those guys, frustrating as it is. A sneaky long-range blast from them inflicts far more damage than us charging like mad and lopping heads."

"Then why don't they shell every day?"

"Simple—those big spells burn through huge piles of magic stones. If they shelled daily, no budget could keep up."

Plus, the platoon leader continued.

"If the enemy reads the attack and abandons the targeted position, we take a huge loss. Unless we're sure they're still there, we can't do it."

"I see—very instructive."

"Good. Five minutes after the bombardment ends we charge. Our objective is to advance to the riverbank; if possible, coordinate with other units and secure the river."

With that declaration the platoon leader bared a ferocious grin and drew the bayonet at his hip.

"Now, the slaughter begins. Let's turn these rotten-hearted invaders into dog shit."

With those words Garback's squad charged the enemy position.

The result was a debacle.

"Platoon leader! Flames roared up from nowhere—"

"Goddammit!"

What we ran into was a burned-out, empty enemy position not a single corpse in sight.

The platoon leader looked puzzled, then, hearing allies scream all around, frantically ordered retreat.

"Fall back! Concentrated bombardment's coming! HQ, what the hell are you doing!"

"H-help, I'm dying—burning!"

"Then burn to death on your own, Salsa! Laggard!"

Sudden flames erupted from apparently bare ground, rolling Private Second Class Salsa in agony.

Probably an installed magic circle—a trap.

Step on it and you're crisply roasted, like a magical landmine.

Laying such traps in advance proves the enemy knew today's offensive was coming.

"Keep rolling hard on the ground! I'll smother the flames with dirt!"

"H-hot! Hurry, hurry!"

"Hup!"

I couldn't abandon a classmate, so I scooped dirt to help extinguish the fire.

Then we ran together toward the platoon leaders already starting to pull back.

"Ah—my leg!"

"Understood. Wait a moment."

But Salsa couldn't stand and collapsed.

His feet were swollen like balloons—no condition for walking.

"[Heal]... [Heal]..."

"Ah—haa—ah..."

"I layered casts; even my poor magic should help a little."

A healing spell barely stronger than a charm.

Repeating it slightly reduced the swelling in Salsa's feet.

Still badly injured, and I can only cast twice in a row.

"If you can't run, I'm sorry—I'll have to leave you."

"Ugh..."

"I don't have the strength to carry you."

"Got it. I'll run—don't leave me!"

Teeth clenched, Salsa rose on probably still-throbbing legs and started running again.

Once I saw that, I resumed the retreat at full speed.

Enemy bombardment magic had apparently begun; explosions and death cries rang everywhere.

"Hah—hah—hah! We're gonna die, really!"

"Yes—pray the shells don't come our way."

We ran.

We chased the veteran soldiers who had long since vanished ahead, racing in terror from the blasts.

All around, explosions and roaring flames—presumably enemy attacks—rose in every direction.

One direct hit and we'd be finished.

"...hah...hah..."

I've never had much stamina.

In my past life I was a game-addicted couch potato; in this one a bookworm holed up in the orphanage library.

How long have we been running?

Thanks to adrenaline I'm still on my feet, but normally I'd have passed out long ago.

"I don't wanna die, I haven't paid Mom back yet!"

"If you've breath to scream, keep running."

Salsa was surprisingly energetic: in pain but still able to scream and run.

Every breath I take tastes of blood.

"Uaaaaaaaaaah!"

Running hundreds of meters beside the endlessly noisy Salsa.

Incredibly, we reached our rearmost line without taking a direct hit.

Here enemy shells shouldn't reach.

"..."

"Huh? H-hey! Touri!?"

Right after crossing the goal I remembered nothing.

I was told I'd lost consciousness.

And that Salsa had carried me to the medical station.

"You idiot!!"

After I woke up.

Summoned by the platoon leader, I was greeted with an iron-fist reprisal.

"Why did you use healing magic without my permission? Why did you ignore my retreat order and rescue Salsa!?"

"I'm sorry."

Apparently rescuing Salsa and delaying retreat was treated as insubordination.

That wasn't my intent, but saying more would be unwise.

"Soft spot for a classmate? How much trouble did you cause everyone!?"

"...I don't know."

"Then let me explain. By sheer luck, both you and I made it back without being hit. Very lucky, eh?"

"Yes, extremely lucky."

The instant I answered, a dull impact struck my belly.

The platoon leader had punched me.

"—ghh!"

"Imagine—just suppose—I'd been hit by shellfire. Then you, arriving late, pass me by."

"Y...es—"

"At that moment, would you have had any mana left to save me?"

Slap after slap struck my cheeks.

Finally, face twisted in disgust, the platoon leader kicked me hard.

"That's what you did. For a maggot-grade rookie you endangered my life."

"I'm truly sorry."

"Using healing magic requires a superior's permission! Using it without my say-so is unforgivable!"

"I'm sorry."

"Your heals are meant for me alone! Why else did I bother requesting a medic! To let me push deeper into enemy lines and end this war!"

The platoon leader's punishment was brutal.

My uniform was torn from the violence, and the side peeking through was red and swollen.

The pain was so intense I could barely answer.

"This is punishment. You will skip lunch today. Then stand at attention in front of my tent until the sun goes down."

"......Yes"

That was the penalty imposed on me.

After noon, when the sky began to redden.

While I stood there, my face covered in bruises, Salsa spoke to me.

"Sorry, man, really sorry."

"This is my own fault. You have no reason to feel guilty."

Honestly, I think Captain Garback's corporal punishment is wrong. Beating a subordinate to the point it could hinder tomorrow's combat is nothing but inefficient.

Still, on reflection, needing a superior's permission to use healing magic is only natural.

I was at fault for neglecting to confirm that and acting on my own.

"But if you hadn't saved me, I'd......"

"You would have died, abandoned by the platoon leader. Don't agonize over my punishment, but please feel the debt of having your life saved."

"O-of course!"

Salsa looked at me as though gazing at a goddess.

This might be slightly awkward.

"If you truly feel that debt, could you share a bit of your supper? I'm starving."

"...Uh, sure."

"That'll clear the debt."

"Cheap price for a life debt..."

Honestly, I don't plan to get too close to him.

After all, ten to one he'll die soon.

We haven't really operated together yet, but he's careless, can't read the room, and doesn't look like the kind of excellent soldier who'll survive to the end.

And I'm the type who takes heavy damage when someone I'm close to dies.

If I'm going to be hurt anyway, it's better not to get close from the start.

I have no need for affection.

"Well, fine. Skip lunch and of course you're hungry."

"Thank you. I have to stay standing until sunset."

"Right. I was just called by the platoon leader myself. See you."

With that, Salsa saluted me and entered the platoon leader's tent.

This distance is about right for comrades.

Not too friendly, yet not hostile.

We'll coordinate in battle, but speak little in private.

For this short time, I think I can manage with Salsa.

"You idiot, moron, trash! Die, damn it!! If you're so eager to throw away that life I saved, I'll finish you myself right now!!"

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry────"

A few minutes later.

He stood in front of the tent with injuries worse than mine.

"......"

"......"

Salsa's face was swollen, bleeding in places. Black liquid dripped from his nose, and his right arm... looks broken.

This has clearly gone beyond guidance. He'll need healing magic and won't be fit for combat for days.

No matter how I look at it, it's inefficient.

"Damn, it hurts..."

"Um. What did you do, Private Second Class Salsa?"

"Forgot the noon briefing..."

"Sigh."

Still, this man is something else.

Does the platoon leader judge that only this much beating can correct him?

"Hey, this really hurts. Touri, could you, like, secretly use a little healing magic?"

"The reason I was scolded was for using magic without permission. If I use it again while being punished for that, the platoon leader will strangle me."

"......Right."

Is this man really remorseful? Or is he trying to drag me back into the storm of corporal punishment?

Even if I could use it, I'd use it on myself first. I'm badly hurt too.

"Also. Sorry, Touri. I was told to skip supper..."

"......"

It's been one week since I was assigned to the western front.

I'm still alive today, by sheer luck.

Unreliable peers and a violent superior give me plenty of trouble, but for the sake of my hometown orphanage I'll keep doing my best.

Yesterday, a senior from the medical unit told me about the recent battle situation.

This western front I was assigned to is the front line of the ten-year East-West War between our nation "Austin" and the enemy nation "Sabot Federation".

At the start of the war, they fought back and forth along the Tahl River that bordered Sabot Federation.

But the front was gradually pushed back, and now the entire Tahl River basin is under enemy occupation.

No wonder. Our forces total one hundred thousand, while the enemy has an estimated one hundred eighty thousand. We can't win.

Still, the Austin Army hasn't given up and is eyeing recapture of the Tahl River.

The assault four days ago was aimed at retaking the Tahl River.

But the plan was either leaked or predicted. The enemy positions we bombarded were empty, and our Magic Cannon Corps' bombardment hit nothing.

Worse, infantry units like Captain Garback's squad suffered heavy losses and fled in panic.

As a result, the positions and supplies we abandoned were taken by the enemy, and the front was forced back more than a hundred meters.

The Tahl River grows ever more distant.

Now we're frantically digging new trenches along the fallback line.

Trenches are vital. After the line moves, the infantry spends all day digging with shovels.

One part life-or-death combat, nine parts life-or-death construction work.

That is the daily life of a frontline soldier.

"It's time to get up. Prepare quickly."

"Ugh... Touri? Morning."

A low-ranking soldier's morning starts early.

At 0500, as the sky starts to lighten, we have the squad's daily briefing, so we must be up, check our gear, and be ready to sortie at any time before then.

There's no convenient alarm, so late sleepers are woken by comrades or the night watch.

My sleep is shallow from stress, so I wake when the surroundings stir, sparing me that trouble.

"I'm already ready. If Salsa is late, I'll share the blame, so please prepare quickly."

"O-okay."

Whether we sortie that day is announced at the briefing.

If we show up late and it's an immediate sortie, we're finished.

A low-ranking soldier like me sleeps in a trench echoing with bombardment.

The medical unit barracks are in the rear, but since I belong to Captain Garback's squad I must sleep on the front line.

Captain Garback has his own tent, but junior soldiers get no such luxury.

Men and women alike sleep packed together in a long dugout.

"You change clothes fast, Touri."

"If I don't change first thing, everyone will see."

This is the foremost trench; there's no consideration for women.

We change alongside the men, and the latrine is unisex.

Rumor says female soldiers are groped or even assaulted while sleeping.

Rape is of course against regulations, and reporting it brings severe punishment.

Even consensual sex is a grave crime, since pregnancy removes a soldier from the front.

"Private Second Class Touri, ready."

"Private Second Class Salsa, ready."

"Good, commence briefing."

Sergeant Garback is arrogant and violent, but I hear he's extremely strict about military regulations.

So if something like that happened to me, Medical Lieutenant Gail said I could definitely count on proper punishment being handed down.

If it's in line with military law, Sergeant Garback will kill a subordinate without a second thought.

Thanks to that, none of the members of Garback's squad have ever been treated in a way that even hints at sexual harassment.

"Order to Private Second Class Touri the medic. Today you will act under the command of Medical Lieutenant Gail."

"Acknowledged. I repeat the order: from this moment until 0500 tomorrow, I will act under the command of Medical Lieutenant Gail."

"Very well."

Today's assignment was to assist Medical Lieutenant Gail.

Normally medics set up a field hospital in army tents at the very rear of the front—–a rear base out of reach of artillery fire—and treat the wounded there.

Almost all medics work there. Even medics attached to infantry squads like me get pulled to help at the field hospital on days with no fighting.

The work counts as training for a medic, it's safe because it's in the very rear, and everyone in the medical unit—including Medical Lieutenant Gail—is kind, so it's the best.

You could call it a special privilege of the medical unit that you don't have to take part in the brutal physical labor of digging holes all day.

Salsa next to me is quietly grumbling, "Hole-digging again today..."

And then I found something out recently.

Captain Garback is allowed to stay in a tent in the safe rear, but... that's because he's one of this front's "Aces."

I thought it was odd that Captain Garback, though a newbie himself, was allowed to attach medics to his unit and have his own tent...

Apparently all those perks were rights he earned through his own achievements.

"That's why no one blames him for being so reckless. When he says, 'If you've got complaints, bring back a bigger achievement than mine,' everyone shuts up."

"Well, I mean, having an excellent superior right above you is reassuring."

"He's just an idiot. He keeps charging in assaults that treat his own life and his comrades' lives like trash, and he's only alive out of dumb luck."

He uses his comrades as decoys and abandons them to die—Medical Lieutenant Gail made a disgusted face.

"All the credit for the dead subordinates goes to Garback. He repeats reckless charges, and when it gets dangerous he abandons his men to gain achievements. ...He might be a good assault trooper, but he's the worst commander ever."

"Um, Medical Lieutenant Gail, maybe you shouldn't say things like that."

"Ah, right. Sorry."

She looked like she'd keep bad-mouthing Garback forever, so I gently steered her away.

I don't have a very good impression of Garback either, but I still think it's not right for the medical lieutenant to bad-mouth other soldiers to their subordinates.

"I just get emotional whenever the subject turns to Garback. He killed my little brother."

"......"

"I still remember it. The day they handed me just my brother's dog tag and told me he'd died in action. Garback smiled at me and said, 'Thanks to your brother, we advanced twenty meters into their territory.'"

"That's... that's..."

"Later I heard it was just Garback's mistake, and my brother had to clean up after it. Garback's squad got carried away and pushed too far, then abandoned my little brother and retreated."

As she told the story, Medical Lieutenant Gail looked absolutely terrifying.

"When the higher-ups approved his request to send medics to his squad, I argued against it with everything I had... but the top brass said yes. Sorry, you drew the short straw."

"No, following orders is what soldiers do."

"Right. If there's anything I can do to help, let me know. Do your best."

So that's why Medical Lieutenant Gail is so critical of Garback.

I definitely don't want to die cleaning up the platoon leader's mistakes.

But right now it looks like Private Second Class Salsa has higher priority than me as decoy material. They wouldn't waste a precious healer so easily.

So as long as he stays alive, I can probably say I'm safe.

Hang in there, Salsa.

Today I spent the whole day working as a medic at the field hospital.

Though as a rookie I'm not much use as a combat asset yet.

So I'm getting guidance from seniors and helping out with the other rookie medics.

"Your mana handling is weak! Do it like—wham! Pow! Like that!"

"Respectfully, senpai, could you be a little more specific?"

"Like, you know, do the Guts Pose and—"

After getting guidance from all sorts of seniors, I realized how clear Medical Lieutenant Gail's lectures had been.

It seems explaining the key points of healing magic in theory is very hard.

Most seniors only give pretty vague advice.

But almost all the seniors agree on one thing:

"With healing magic, once you've done a lot of cases you'll gradually get it."

Learn by doing, not by studying, I guess.

At the field hospital there's no shortage of demand for healing magic.

They assigned me relatively lightly wounded soldiers and let me practice.

I've only been learning magic for a week, but I feel my spells are more effective than the first time I cast healing magic.

It seems it's true that experience makes you better.

It's fun to feel yourself leveling up like this. I wish we could keep doing this forever without any assault operations.

"We're taking back the position we lost last time. Garback's squad, move out!"

The next day we were given another sortie order.

As expected, now that we're on the front lines, living in peace is just a dream.

"The enemy probably hasn't finished fortifying the position they took last time. Right now they're likely organizing supplies and reinforcing the trench at full speed. We'll bombard them, then assault and overrun."

"Understood."

The plan is the same as last time: the Magic Cannon Corps bombards, then we assault and overrun.

...The memory of last time's failure flashed through my mind, and I felt a little uneasy.

"Private Second Class Salsa, Private Second Class Touri the medic. You two, stick behind me again."

"Yes, platoon leader."

"If you disobey orders again I'll execute you on the spot. Keep that in mind."

"Understood."

The platoon leader drove the point home to me after last time's blunder.

If I'm executed for insubordination the money won't reach the orphanage.

...It's depressing, but even if I'm given a dangerous order I won't resist—I'll quietly die.

"All right, let's go! I'll show you Garback-style assault!"

Even though we're about to go fight, the platoon leader is all smiles. He looks like he couldn't be happier about getting to kill people.

His joy at killing enemies outweighs his fear of being killed himself.

"I'll turn those foreign scumbags into filthy mincemeat!"

...If you stay on the battlefield long enough, does everyone end up like this?

There's no end in sight for this war.

They say our country has been repeating this war of positions on this front for ten years already.

I heard this from a senior medic.

Around the Tahl River, the ground used to be lush grassland and soft brown earth.

But now almost everything here has turned to black soil.

The reason is simple.

When the iron content in the soil rises, the color turns black.

That's how much blood has been spilled on this land—enough to change the color of the soil.

"......"

Today I'll run across the plain with bullets flying, treading on pitch-black soil.

The soil I'm stepping on now might have once been part of someone's precious family.

Iron gathered from every corner of our country will be scattered on this land again today.

Simply being alive on this battlefield is an unbelievable stroke of luck.

I don't want to die. I don't want to become iron soaking this dreary soil.

With that single thought I desperately chase the platoon leader's back.

"Charge!!!!"

After the Magic Cannon Corps shelled for about five hours, Captain Garback gave the order to assault.

I wasn't given an order to attack the enemy.

I was only told to jump out of the trench at the signal, run full speed across the plain where enemy bullets were flying, and reach the next trench.

"Touri, don't leave my rear! Salsa, protect Touri with your life if you have to!"

"Roger that."

"Yes, sir!"

It seems the platoon leader doesn't expect Salsa or me to count as combat strength.

I'm just a healer, and Salsa is apparently nothing more than a meat shield to protect me.

Salsa seems somewhat aware of that, but—

"Repeating orders! Even if it costs me my life, I'll protect Private Second Class Touri the medic!"

"That's the spirit! Since you said it, carry it through."

For some reason, I felt Salsa was unusually fired up. Treated like a sacrificial pawn, yet why so motivated?

Well, if that enthusiasm keeps me guarded, I couldn't ask for more.

Besides, judging from the platoon leader's wording, Private Second Class Salsa's life is apparently cheaper than mine.

I felt a little relieved.

Today's assault operation seemed to be a success.

Unlike three days ago, charred enemy corpses lay everywhere, and the acrid stench of burnt human flesh and iron hit my nose hard.

"Gahaha, looks like the enemy didn't expect us to attack again so soon. Send the surviving pests off to the afterlife!"

Captain Garback burst into the enemy lines with a hearty laugh.

Gunfire rang from every direction; on a battlefield of explosions and blood spray, he looked as joyful as a fish in water.

"...he's—fast."

"We'll up our speed, Salsa, so the platoon leader doesn't leave us behind."

Captain Garback kept charging ahead of everyone else.

Even sprinting at full tilt, we fell further and further behind.

"Chestooo!! Become the rust on my blade!"

Dragged along in his wake, I screamed inwardly, Please stop this reckless charge!

The platoon leader left the covering squad behind and plunged alone into the hail of bullets.

That single-minded advance looked like nothing less than a death wish.

Yet, oddly enough, the safest place on the battlefield was right behind the captain who spearheaded the assault.

"Why aren't the bullets hitting him?!"

"...He's cutting them, the bullets."

Right—how could I forget?

We've been stuck in this filthy war so long it slipped my mind: this is a sword-and-magic fantasy world.

Captain Garback is a swordsman—skilled enough to slice bullets out of the air.

"Why is the captain—cutting bullets while running—still faster than us?!"

"I—I don't know...!"

The captain's combat could only be called devastating.

He leapt into enemy trenches and mowed them down in sprays of blood.

Salsa and I merely followed like goldfish dung, barely keeping up.

Even that was only possible because Captain Garback paused every so often to lop off enemy heads.

"Oi, rookies, I'm leaving you behind! If you don't want to die, stick to my rear!"

"R-roger!"

I never thought I'd see a real person cut bullets from the air with a sword.

Until now I'd thought Garback was nothing but a crude, arrogant excuse for a superior...

Yet even Medical Lieutenant Gail, who detests him, admits he's an excellent assault trooper.

Twisted as it sounds, Captain Garback is an 'Ace'.

"Captain! You've pushed too far ahead; we'll lose contact with the other units!"

"Huh? Again? Pathetic."

But his bad habit was exactly as Medical Lieutenant Gail had warned:

He loves charging so much that, left unchecked, he'll slash ahead without regard for anyone else.

A glance back showed our allies still fighting dozens of meters behind.

We'd clearly pushed too far ahead.

"Hah...! Hah... Captain, sir. I propose we prioritize securing this position over further advance..."

"Tch... Fine. You lot look beat; guess it's time."

Our squad had no doubt been on the verge of isolation.

Realizing this, the captain's face soured, but he sighed and halted the advance.

"Right, assemble! This squad will hold this trench and support the allied advance."

"Roger!"

Almost the moment the order was given, squad members appeared around us.

Unlike Salsa and me, drenched in sweat, the veterans still looked composed.

They had steadily fought their way up behind the captain.

As expected of seasoned warriors.

"Captain, sir. Permission to report."

"What is it? Spit it out."

"Private First Class Gray of my unit has taken a bullet to the thigh. Continued bleeding could be fatal; I request medic assistance."

Following his words, I noticed a young soldier supported on another's shoulder, face contorted in pain.

The captain frowned thoughtfully, then turned to me.

"Mm. Touri, you can use healing magic twice, right?"

"Yes."

"Good. Treat Gray's wound; you're cleared for one healing spell if needed."

"Understood. Then, Gray-dono, please show me the injury."

At last—ordinary medic work!

Standing is exhausting after the day's strain, yet frontline treatment is exactly why I'm here.

I'll do it carefully and with spirit.

"All right, we'll secure the perimeter. While supporting the other squads' advance, we'll guard Touri and Gray."

"Y-yes, sir!"

So Captain Garback actually allows his men healing magic.

He'd said only I could use it, but maybe he's more flexible than he seems.

Perhaps because combat's done for today.

"There's a hematoma in your thigh. I'll drain the blood; it'll hurt a bit."

"...Ugh! Thanks, Touri-chan. Let's go on a date next time."

"Confirmed removal of the clot. Now I'll cast [Heal]."

"Wish I got some kind of reaction..."

Gray turned out to be a rather flippant man.

Speaking to me for the first time, he was overly familiar. A date on the battlefield—where would we go?

Yet beneath that casual tone he had a well-trained body; clearly a veteran.

"Treatment complete. I'll issue oral rehydration; drink it promptly. If you notice blood in your urine within twenty-four hours, report to me or another medic."

"Got it. Thanks... Ow, ow."

"I'm sorry; my skill couldn't fully heal you."

"No worries—stopping the bleeding's enough. Honestly thought I'd die."

After draining the blood, disinfecting, and closing Gray's thigh with magic, I wrapped it in bandages.

His pallor suggested heavy blood loss, so I gave him water as well.

"Bleeding's stopped. Unless he's shot again, Gray-dono's life is secure."

"Got it. I'll be careful."

"Done? Then Gray joins the support. Touri, hide in the trench."

After that, I holed up in the trench as ordered.

I'm unarmed; my pack holds only medical supplies, so I can't fight anyway.

"Garback squad, thanks for leading!"

"You're late, idiots!"

Fortunately, allies caught up quickly and we linked up, securing the enemy trench.

Captain Garback flattened himself against the trench wall, keeping watch.

"Combat over! All units, hand over to the rear and maintain this position!"

Soon another squad arrived to relieve us, ending today's battle.

On this day, we succeeded in advancing thirty-one meters.

We didn't take back everything we'd lost in the last enemy offensive, but it felt like payback.

"Gahaha, a great victory. Today our squad lost only one man, advanced thirty-one meters! Haven't seen such an efficient advance in ages."

Captain Garback let out a laugh that sounded truly delighted.

"If the other squads had moved up a little faster, we could've wiped out our earlier losses entirely—such a waste. If I'd just had ten more men..."

...After the battle, hearing the captain's words, I looked around again.

Then I noticed. Only seven members of Garback's squad were here.

One was missing.

"Captain, let's do that at least."

"Oh, right. Ah—Scout Rindel's life became the cornerstone of our victory. The thirty-one meters we advanced are the crystallization of Rindel's life."

"......"

"Everyone—salute the brave scout Rindel."

For a few seconds we saluted Scout Rindel, not even knowing where he lay dead.

I heard he'd been a rookie on the front less than a year, got so focused on keeping up with the captain's charge that he let his guard down, and took a bullet straight through the head.

"Right, then—let's head back and have a drink. I'll sneak some ale out of the warehouse again as a reward."

"Thank you very much, Captain!"

"Gahaha, appreciate it."

Yet not a single person here mourned Rindel's death.

Garback laughed in high spirits, and the other squad members looked cheerful too.

"Salsa, Touri. You maggots somehow stayed alive—special permission to sit with us."

"...Honored. Thank you for the consideration."

"In return, prepare some kind of act, got it?"

How can they be so cheerful when someone has just died?

...No, that's right. This is a battlefield.

Death is surely nothing unusual here.

"...You okay? You're pale, Touri."

"No problem. You look like the blood's drained from your face, Salsa."

"I'm fine. I'm fine."

What did Scout Rindel look like? What was his personality?

I knew nothing about him. A stranger's death should have nothing to do with me.

Yet why does this nausea well up inside me?

"Hey, Touri. Why are those guys laughing?"

"Probably because we achieved our tactical objectives in today's battle."

"I see. Yeah."

I have to endure. Living cheek-by-jowl with death is the everyday life of this 'battlefield' we stand in.

Scout Rindel died, but his sacrifice has clearly become our nation's gain.

So I must smile too.

"Oi, newbies. Don't stand around—hand the strongpoint over to the following squad and pull back."

"Y-yes, sir!"

"Oh, you've got that gloomy look. Happens to all rookies when a comrade dies. Don't worry."

While I fought back the nausea, Private First Class Gray—whom I'd just treated—called to me in concern.

Apparently I'd been so dazed I'd almost been left behind by the squad. I have to shape up.

"Apologies, Private First Class Gray. We'll begin withdrawal at once."

"Mm-hmm. Even stone-faced Touri-chan can make that expression. Pretty cute."

"I'm ashamed of my own immaturity."

Seems my reaction to a comrade's death was all too obvious.

I guess my face gives everything away.

Will this make me the captain's next target for education?

"I envy you for being able to show that expression. We gave up on that long ago."

"So... comrades dying really is normal, Gray-senpai?"

"Yeah. We're assault troops on the front line—dying in battle is everyday stuff. I've no guarantee I'll be alive tomorrow either."

Gray-senpai's face held more concern for us than anger.

Like a parent comforting a child frightened by a nightmare, his eyes were almost tender.

"But think—where do you suppose this war is headed?"

"Headed, sir?"

"Yeah, the goal."

He gave a weary smile, shrugged, and went on.

"For ten years we've been fighting here. Pushing and pulling the line like a tug-of-war, endlessly."

"...I deeply respect all you seniors have done."

"Spare me. Do you two have any idea how this war could end?"

Try thinking from the enemy's side too.

Private First Class Gray asked Salsa and me.

"We're pushed back a bit now, but we can still fight. If we conscript every young man left in the home country, we can last another ten years."

"......"

"Same for the enemy. They should still have plenty of reserves."

That might be true. My healing aptitude meant I couldn't refuse conscription, but most of my orphanage friends went into civilian jobs instead of the military.

The only other one who joined the army at the same time—Barney—did so voluntarily, not by draft.

In other words, the homeland still holds people who could be conscripted.

The state needs a certain workforce to keep running, so they're not drafting them yet.

"Trench warfare gives the defender an absolute advantage. The side holed up in the trench shoots at the attackers. In that setup the attackers always take heavier losses."

"That's certainly true."

"The Magic Cannon Corps do their best, but bombardment alone can't wipe out every soldier in the trenches. The enemy use [Shield] and anti-air magic to survive the shelling and strike back when we charge."

Just as Gray-senpai said, normal fighting favors the defenders in the trenches.

That's why we spend so much time having the Magic Cannon Corps soften them up.

"The war will drag on another ten years. Do you think an assault trooper in a place with no guarantee of tomorrow can survive ten years?"

"All we can do is pray to God or try our hardest."

"Impossible. We're going to die here—it's already decided."

Giving up means exactly that.

Gray-senpai gave a lonely smile.

"Death is the goal. It's salvation from God, a reward for doing our best so far—permission to be released."

"...But if we broke through the enemy line and took their capital—"

"Impossible. War has changed. Unlike the days when cavalry ruled, guns and explosives are everywhere. Trench warfare has become the norm."

"......"

"Trench warfare has no end. Even when pushed back, the enemy just digs new holes and sets up rifles—an instant strongpoint. You can't blitz to their capital anymore."

You get it by now, right? Gray-san went on.

"The dead have reached the goal. They're the lucky ones who escaped this hell ahead of us. Rindel's probably over there right now, having a grand banquet with comrades who went before."

"Is that... your view of life and death, Gray-san?"

"I have to think that, or I couldn't keep being an assault trooper. For us, death is salvation—a right granted by God."

"...Uh. But I—I still don't want to die."

"Of course. You and Touri-chan are far too inexperienced to be that resigned. But the day will come when you'll understand."

Private First Class Gray patted Salsa on the head,

"Eventually you'll envy the ones who got to die."

With that, he closed the conversation.

After Gray-senpai scolded us for staring blankly, Salsa and I walked side by side toward the captain's tent.

"'Envy the ones who get to die'? I don't get it."

"Agreed, Private Second Class Salsa."

Once we return to our base, Captain Garback will apparently hold a banquet (?).

Gray-senpai says the captain gets fifty percent more unreasonable when drunk, so we mustn't be late.

"I don't wanna die. I don't want to rot in this lonely place, become maggot-ridden scraps of meat."

"I'd rather not either."

"But... If I stay on the battlefield a long time, will I start thinking like that too? Will I end up seeking salvation in death?"

"Who knows? That depends on your own view of life and death, doesn't it?"

Salsa-kun seems to be deeply pondering what Gray-senpai said earlier.

Indeed, the expression on our senior's face as he lectured us had been so calm it hardly seemed sane.

"Private First Class Gray is probably just too kind."

"Kind?"

I felt I'd caught a glimpse of his true nature in those words.

Gray-dono must originally be a very gentle sort of man.

"What's so kind about seeking salvation in death?"

"Well, it could simply be a way to distract himself from his own fear of dying."

Death is salvation.

If he truly believed such a twisted idea, Gray-senpai would've committed suicide long ago—anything else would be strange.

After saying something like that to us, he must still be terrified of dying.

But more than that—

"What else is there?"

"Gray-senpai probably couldn't stay sane unless he believed his dead comrades had found salvation in the afterlife, don't you think?"

I couldn't help but feel that way.

"Number One Salsa, strip and dance for us!"

"Get lost, Boke-nasu!!"

The battlefield is hell.

To endure such a cruel environment, you can't stay sane.

The same was true even at a drinking party.

"Who wants to see a naked man?! I'll kill you, Salsa!!"

"I-I'm sorry! I'm sorry!!"

"Rookies can't do anything right."

The front line, still in an uproar long after the day's rare victory.

In Captain Garback's hand when he finally appeared were rare battlefield luxuries: alcohol and sweets.

In the Austin Army, assault units get leave the night a charge succeeds.

And it's customary to hold a banquet with that leave and raise a ruckus.

"No booze for the boring ones. If you don't want a bullet up your ass, shut up and sit down."

"I'm sorry!!"

Garback's squad held a banquet like any other, and the captain chugged a stiff drink at the start and was in high spirits.

Then Touri and I were ordered to "do something funny right now"; panicked, Salsa started stripping for a naked dance and got punched.

So even in this world they have naked comedy acts.

"Damn rookies can't even do a proper act! You making fun of me?!"

"My apologies."

Terrifyingly, forcing party tricks on us seems to be an official order from a superior.

If I refuse, two counts of insubordination will get me executed.

I refuse to be executed for such a stupid order. I want to believe it's a joke.

"Ahahaha. You might think it's an absurd demand, but this isn't just our squad—it's a tradition in plenty of others."

"Though our captain here is a bit strict about the quality of the act."

"If you piss me off, I'll beat you to a pulp and bury you."

True, I've heard that entertaining the party is a rookie's duty. It was the same in my previous life.

Yet in that previous life I never once attended this sort of drinking party.

...So, what should I do now?

"Hey, what're you staring at, brat?"

"Um, judging from what you said earlier, should I... strip and dance?"

If Salsa's naked dance had been accepted, the next naked dancer would be me, a woman.

If told to choose between execution and a naked dance, I'll dance—but honestly I'd rather be spared.

I wish Salsa had read the room a little better.

"Don't need you, flat-chested runt! Who'd enjoy looking at a kid's body? I'll kill you!"

"My apologies."

After the captain yelled at me, I actually felt a little relieved.

He'd shouted in the spirit of "men don't strip," so I thought I'd be forced into a naked act after all.

Judging by his phrasing, it looks like the weird demands will pass me by.

"Still, if you've got no act I'll let Touri off, but Salsa, do something funny."

"...Since I'd rather not strip, would a ventriloquism routine suffice?"

"Oh? What's this, brat? You've got something?"

In a place with no props, the list of possible acts is short.

Fortunately, the sisters at the orphanage once taught me a trick, so I'll use that to get through this.

"Kon-kon, I'm a fox. Wan-wan, I'm a dog."

"Hey, ventriloquism? That's pretty good."

"Kon-kon, wan-wan."

While making fox and dog shapes with my fingers, I barked without moving my lips.

How nostalgic—I used to play like this with the orphanage kids.

Normally you'd use puppets, but with nothing on hand I used my hands instead.

"Whoa, you're dexterous. The voices change, and your mouth doesn't move at all."

"Touri-chan's animal impressions are so cute, Captain. I think she's a keeper."

"Wan-wan, then I'll sing a song like this—wan."

"Huh, you can even sing like that?"

I'm actually pretty confident in this act.

Before enlisting, I seriously considered making a living as a traveling performer with this ventriloquism.

""Release the li-i-ight, our home-e-land...""

"Hey, I'm hearing two voices at once."

""The pro-o-otection of our mighty, peerle-e-ess ancesto-o-ors...""

"Hold on, Touri-chan's started a one-person chorus!"

"Awesome, she's harmonizing with ventriloquism! Gahahaha!"

Using ventriloquism, I sang the famous Austin army song solo, switching timbres to create a round.

After long practice at the orphanage, I learned to change my voice and sing in two parts at once.

With that act I earned the nickname "Touri the Ventriloquist," and the orphanage always applauded wildly.

"That's all. Thank you for your indulgence."

"All right, well done. Here's your reward—still a kid, so no booze, have some chocolate!"

"Your praise is more than I deserve, Captain."

"I always reward talent properly—gahahaha!"

Fortunately, I managed not to offend the captain.

On the contrary, he roared with laughter and patted my head in high good humor.

Ah, thank goodness. The saying "art saves lives" is really true.

"Touri... you betrayed me..."

"What betrayal?"

Salsa looked at me resentfully as I stuffed chocolate into my cheeks.

If anything, I'm the one who was nearly betrayed—forced into a naked dance because of you.

"So, Salsa. What are you going to do?"

"...I'll just strip and..."

"Drop the naked act or I'll kill you."

After that, he kept saying stupid things and ended up assigned endless reps of push-ups, squats, sit-ups... etc., collapsing halfway through the party.

On the battlefield, the custom is to crush rookies not with precious liquor but with physical exhaustion.

If I'd had no act and refused to strip, I'd have met the same fate.

"..."

"Captain. Permission to massage Salsa so he can move tomorrow."

"Do as you like."

At this rate, he'll probably be too sore to move tomorrow.

As the one responsible for squad health, I suppose I'll give Salsa a massage and some cooling care.

After all, he is my precious meat shield.

"Awake, Private Second Class Salsa?"

"W-What is it, in the middle of the night..."

It was still the dead of night, long before sunrise.

The rustling around me got noisy and woke me from sleep.

"Yawn... Good work this late at night, everyone. Is it a mission?"

"G-Geez, even Touri-chan woke up..."

"......?"

When I lifted my head, several squad members including Gray-senpai were shaking the drowsy-faced Salsa awake.

Time was late, 2 a.m.; the trench campfires had gone out and every soldier was fast asleep.

"Private Second Class Touri the medic, awake. Awaiting orders."

"Ah..."

I'd jumped up thinking someone was wounded or we'd gotten night-operation orders, but...

The seniors, Gray included, all wore "we screwed up" faces.

Come to think of it, I hadn't actually been woken up.

Was it a secret mission just for Private Second Class Salsa?

"Um, a night raid? Should I check the gear right now?"

"Ah, no, not that. It's not a mission."

"Then what do you need?"

"...Ah. Um, Private First Class Gray, explain to her."

"You dump it on me here!? ...Well, whatever."

The seniors I'd asked looked somehow flustered.

...This atmosphere isn't from some operation. I was starting to guess.

"Well, our platoon leader's brutal on rookies. Salsa's stressed too, so we thought we'd let him blow off a little steam."

"Just me? Even Touri's pretty..."

"Come on, Salsa, read the room. You're a guy, right? That kind of thing builds up, yeah?"

"...Ah."

Once it was put that way, Salsa cottoned on.

So it's that direction. Male bonding, as they say.

"Ah, I get it. Uh, so..."

"......"

The air turned terribly awkward.

Touching female soldiers breaks regulations. But when you're always risking your life, instinct flares and libido skyrockets, or so I've heard.

They must need an outlet. Surely they're hiding naughty photos or books somewhere.

"...I don't know what you're talking about, so if you have no business with me I'll go back to sleep."

"S-Sorry, Touri."

"Don't oversleep tomorrow, Salsa."

Oh no, I messed up. My waking up made things horribly awkward.

I'll pretend I didn't notice and go back to sleep.

"Well, if you're up anyway, wanna come too, Touri-chan?"

"Gah!?"

Just as I'd settled back into bed, Gray-senpai's words made me choke.

What is this man saying?

"W-Wait, senpai?"

"Well, you already figured it out. Not interested in the adult world?"

He invited me with a perfectly innocent face.

Inviting a girl to look at dirty books—what is he thinking?

That would be nothing but excruciating.

"N-No, I'll pass—"

"Other medic girls peddle their services too, for pocket money."

Medics selling themselves.

At those words I spun around and shot upright.

"W-What do you mean by that, Private First Class Gray-dono?"

"There's hardly any girls on the front, right? Girls from the nearby town come regularly to sell their bodies, and some female medics and engineers join in—"

"W-Wait, what about regulations? I believe that's against military law."

"Yeah. Only the act that can cause pregnancy is banned. Mouth or hands are legal. And guys with guys are fine too."

"Huh!?"

My expectations had been naive.

I'd figured they'd just gather at night to look at dirty magazines.

But these guys were planning something far more graphic.

"Captain Garback turns a blind eye to buying. Tried to invite him once and got punched."

"Rumor has it even current Medical Lieutenant Gail used to sell herself."

"That sexy one? Man, I envy the guys back then."

"......"

I don't want to hear this.

I don't want to believe such rumors about the lieutenant I respect so much.

Sure, Gail is stunning, but if it's true it's quite a shock.

"Ah—seniors, Touri looks troubled, so let's drop it."

"Yeah, not something to tell a girl. Sorry for the weird talk."

"I-it's fine... Just please don't bring up such topics to me again."

"She's younger, only fifteen. Hold off on the dirty talk for now, guys."

Salsa-kun looked out for me and covered for me. Good job.

Men say the army makes you crude, but I hadn't expected this level of tactlessness.

Who casually asks a girl, "Wanna prostitute yourself?"

"Sorry, sorry. Touri-chan's always stone-faced, so I thought she'd just say 'I don't mind.'"

"How exactly do you see me..."

I stopped smiling because battle stress stole my laughter.

At the orphanage I used to laugh normally.

"Well, seniors, let's go, let's go. Touri, get some rest."

"All right, I'll take you up on that."

"All right, time to go all out for the first time in ages!"

"Let's have fun!"

"Ahahaha..."

I watched the seniors walk off wearing vulgar grins—and Salsa with his forced smile—with exasperation.

Salsa-kun, please don't let these crude seniors rub off on you.

If my only classmate started daily dirty jokes, I'd surely fall ill.

"...Yawn."

Irritated at the sleep I'd pointlessly lost, I surrendered again to deep drowsiness.

Ah, the earth is cold tonight too.

"Sniff, sniff... I can never get married now."

"......"

Next morning.

When I woke, Salsa-kun was already up, his eyes red and swollen from crying.

While clutching his backside.

"...Um, seniors, what exactly did you do to Salsa?"

"Ah, ahahahaha. Last night, Gray tricked Salsa, got him to charge into the male-love room stark naked."

"I thought he'd come right back out, but it looks like he got caught good and proper, and then just......"

"Don't remind me!!"

......Ah, I see.

"It's all right, Private Second Class Salsa. No matter what you may have done, I will never judge you."

"Touri's eyes are gentler than ever before!? No, I kept the final line intact!"

And that is why Salsa-kun has been clutching his rear since a while ago.

I hear the army has plenty of that sort, so he must have been quite popular as a youngster.

"Well, cheer up, Salsa. Right? Next time I'll treat you properly."

"We went way too far last night. Sorry."

"I'll never trust my seniors again!"

And so, the first victory party since arriving on the battlefield ended with Salsa-kun carrying deep emotional scars.

On nights of great victories like yesterday, soldiers often head out for nighttime fun to let off steam.

There are many who say they keep living just for these small pleasures.

"......By the way, Salsa, how many people did you......?"

"I didn't go all the way with anyone, they only touched me! My chastity is intact!"

With tears in his eyes, he kept insisting on his own innocence in a strong tone.

Personally, I'd feel more at ease if Salsa-kun could just awaken to men after this.

"My body is still pure!"

"......Right. It must have been hard."

"Your eyes are still gentle!?"

Madness truly swirls across the battlefield.

That was the day I felt it keenly.

"......It's raining."

"Oi, it's started to rain!"

Changes in the weather are extremely important on the battlefield.

"Hey, I've fetched the cotton sheet. Everyone gather round."

"Let's build a roof~"

Take rain, for example. Ordinarily it is a blessing for crops and a precious chance for us, who have no secure rivers, to replenish drinking water.

"Don't we have umbrellas or raincoats or anything?"

"You get those when you get promoted, rookie."

For front-line infantry, rain is the worst possible enemy.

"He-choo!!"

Still before dawn. Our squad had been sleeping in the trench, but we woke to the cold plopping sensation.

It was rain.

"Oi, Salsa, nail down the far corner of the sheet."

"Y-yes, sir."

When it rains, each squad fetches the large piece of cotton cloth issued one per squad.

Then we drape the cotton cloth over the trench to make a temporary roof.

We infantry wait out the rain under that roof.

"The trick is to build the roof at an angle. Know why, Salsa?"

"Um, so the water doesn't pool......?"

"Correct. If you make it flat, water drips from the center. You have to set the lowest point at a drainage ditch and build a system to carry the water away."

Rain basically works against infantry.

First, heavy rain turns the ground to mud, making advance difficult.

Moreover, firearms that use gunpowder are more likely to malfunction.

Supposedly the rifles issued to infantry are advertised as fully waterproof......

Yet if you use them in the rain, they fairly often get damp and stop firing.

"On the other hand, the enemy's in the same boat. So fighting in the rain isn't really recommended."

"Then does that mean no sortie today?"

"Nah. Even if rifles are useless, weapons that don't rely on gunpowder—bows, swords—work fine in the rain. We even have waterproof grenades. So it's not unheard-of to launch a surprise attack in the rain."

"But in the end, bows lose range and accuracy, and they slip, so they say it's better not to fight in the rain."

For that reason, battles rarely break out on rainy days.

The attackers have a harder time gaining distance and can't use gunpowder, so the defenders are even more advantaged.

Which means there's a good chance we'll be working at the field hospital today.

"Then I wish it would rain forever."

"......Idiot. You don't get it because it's still warm, but rain is our worst enemy."

The veterans grumbled back at Salsa's flippant remark, faces bitter.

Honestly, I'd been thinking the same thing as Salsa—wishing it would just keep raining.

"Worst enemy, huh. Worse than enemy soldiers shooting at us from the trench?"

"Yeah, we can charge those guys with the captain and manage something. Rain is the one thing we can't do anything about."

The veteran said he feared rain more than enemies pointing rifles at him.

I thought it was some kind of joke, but that veteran's face was perfectly serious.

"Before I was assigned here, I was in the defense unit."

"The defense unit?"

"Yeah. Guys still trembling in the front-line trenches, holding the line."

That middle-aged soldier with the terribly grim look—Scout Allen—told me and Salsa about his experience.

"Rain took three toes and five comrades from me."

"Rain did?"

The defense unit is assigned the brutal job of holing up in the very front trench and simply waiting for the enemy.

As an assault unit, our job is to advance, kill the enemy in the trench ahead, and secure the strongpoint.

The defense unit's job is to stay in the trench and repel the enemy assault units.

Because our roles differ, our equipment and troop composition are very different.

Assault infantry are issued firearms as a priority, and the unit is composed of recon scouts who scout the enemy trench ahead of the advance, grenadiers who can suppress enemy trenches from long range—high-attack, high-suppression roles.

They excel at taking the offensive, and when friendly defensive lines are breached they sometimes serve as rapid-response troops for support.

So they set up bases behind the battlefield to allow flexible movement.

And although Garback's squad doesn't have one now, most assault units are assigned grenadiers.

Grenadiers are troops who hurl small explosives like grenades into enemy trenches or fire them from special rifles.

Because they can efficiently kill enemies in trenches from long range, they're a very powerful role.

Garback's squad used to have a grenadier, but once a rookie grenadier misjudged Captain Garback's advance speed and dropped a grenade into the enemy trench right after the captain charged in, causing a disaster.

Since then, Garback has refused to include grenadiers in his squad. No one will tell us what happened to that rookie.

On the other hand, defensive infantry are issued armor as a priority, and the unit is composed of armored troops who can use [Shield], medics who can treat on the front line, engineers who string barbed wire—roles specialized for base defense.

Defense units have a lower death rate than assault units, and because front-line treatment is so important, they sometimes include medics.

Defense units are among the most brutal assignments—forced to live in constant terror of bombardment while remaining on guard against enemy raids.

Because the job is so harsh, they get more leave than assault troops. On this front, defense units get a rest day every three days.

On rest days you're safe from regulations as long as you don't break military law. You can play cards with comrades, or go buy women for fun. Recreational supplies are issued fairly preferentially.

"But even with all those perks, defense units have the highest rate of going insane."

"......I bet."

Assault troops have time to brace themselves before an attack.

And if the briefing doesn't mention anything, you know there won't be a battle and can relax.

Defense units don't have that luxury. Once on duty, you have to stay hushed on the front line, cowering from bombardment until shift change.

The stress is unimaginable; losing your mind and being sent to the rear isn't rare.

"Rain during defense duty is the absolute worst. You can't fetch sheets from the front, so when it rains you're basically exposed. Filthy runoff from the latrine floods the ground; everything's soaked in sewage."

"Ugh......"

"That triggers epidemics, and diarrhea from those with stomach bugs flows right past your feet. Your toes are freezing but too filthy to wipe."

"......"

"My unit had an outbreak of bloody diarrhea, and comrades dropped dead from dehydration. Dying of diarrhea is miserable—you get buried in your own filth and can't move."

"Ugh......"

"In winter it freezes so hard your toes necrose. Boots don't help; when the water rises, sewage mixed with diarrhea seeps right into your shoes."

It seemed he hated even recalling it; Allen-senpai ended the story there, his face still drained.

The front-line trenches must be unimaginably filthy. I'm glad I wasn't assigned to defense.

"Assault troops have it good. Sure, the death rate's high, but we can wait out the rain under a roof like this."

"Yeah, that's true...... We're super lucky."

"Well, Touri-chan, if the platoon leader hadn't made his selfish demand you'd still be sleeping in the field-hospital tent."

"Medics aren't combatants in the first place. Never heard of a medic attached to an assault unit."

Ah, so it really is that strange.

No matter how you look at it, it's weird for a medic to be sprinting on the front line.

"So why did the platoon leader even ask for a medic?"

"When Captain Garback took a shell hit the other day and had to pull back wounded, he bitched to the brass that 'if we'd had a medic on the front we could've kept going.'"

"He planned to keep advancing after taking a shell hit, Captain?"

Let's just retreat quietly when it happens, okay?

"The rainy season's about to start. Our sorties and the enemy's attacks will both drop off."

"I sure hope so."

"So learn whatever you can while you can, rookies. Salsa, sooner or later Captain's protection won't cover you either."

"Y-yes, sir."

"First lesson: learn to run in a low stance. Keep your head up bobbing like earlier and you'll die fast."

And so, roused before dawn by the rain, we spent the night listening to our seniors' war stories.

I'd never had the chance to sit and talk with infantry veterans, so it felt fresh.

"Reduce the hit area. Just run with head down and back bent and your profile shrinks ten-to-twenty percent compared to normal running. It's a skill to raise your own survival rate—keep it in mind."

"Like...... this?"

"That's it. It's slower and hard on the hips, but get used to that forward lean. You'll need it if you keep being an assault trooper."

We're still just chicks. Battlefield basics, techniques—there's so much we don't know.

"Briefing time's coming up. Right, let's head to the captain's tent."

"Roger! Thanks a lot!"

"That was educational."

And so, little by little, will we raw chicks become 'soldiers'?

"Touri, you're on field-hospital duty today. Follow Medical Lieutenant Gail's orders until tomorrow."

"Understood."

In the trench, rain pouring down in sheets, that's what Captain Garback told me.

Looks like we're not going on the offensive today.

"The rest of you are on trench-digging detail. The footing's bad because of the rain—watch yourselves."

"Roger!"

Salsa-kun shouted his reply while shivering under the cold rain.

The infantry will now spend the day scooping mud and dirt with shovels in this downpour.

If I had to do civil-engineering work all day with my stamina, I'd definitely die.

......I was glad to be a medic.

"Dismissed. Everyone, to your posts—"

The very moment I sighed in relief inside my mind while trembling in the dripping rain—

—a dull thud.

A heavy rumble like something splitting open echoed from a distant trench.

"......! Enemy attack! All hands, combat positions!"

"Roger!"

In the rain we scrambled into the trench.

Pressing my back against the trench wall, I held my breath. The sticky mud clung to my back.

"Allen, what do you see?"

"Reporting. Approximately five hundred metres north of our position, multiple smoke plumes rising from friendly trenches. Presumed enemy magic-cannon assault."

"Right, we'll ask HQ for orders. Previous orders are rescinded—stand by."

Scout Allen-senpai stuck his head above the trench and relayed the surroundings through his recon scope.

......An enemy offensive.

They said the rain lowers firepower so attacks rarely come, but......

"Orders from HQ. This squad will move north to intercept the enemy."

"R-roger!"

"On arrival we'll operate under Major Lenvel's command."

Major Lenvel commands the central-to-northern stretch of this hundred-kilometre front.

He is Captain Garback's direct superior, a very old veteran who has held command since before the war started.

We'll be fighting under that famed general, though his orders all come through Captain Garback, so it'll be the same as always.

"Celebrate, you bastards! The idiots have come out to play and get minced!"

The captain's face lit up with glee, glaring north with savage eyes.

He couldn't be happier to kill enemy soldiers even without an attack order.

"You lied, senpai! You said the enemy hardly comes in the rain!"

"Well, they came anyway—"

To the north we were heading, layers of explosions were roaring.

The enemy must be shelling the trenches where the Austin Army is hiding.

"To thin the trench defenders they'll bomb for hours. While that happens we'll head north and shore up our rear."

"Yes, sir!"

"Pretty heavy barrage. The front-line trench will probably be abandoned, but they won't break through further."

This shelling is called preparatory bombardment: a tactic of pounding the target area with bombardment magic for hours before an offensive.

Without it, charging intact defenders has no chance of success.

Hence modern offensives consider this preparatory bombardment indispensable.

However, it also has the drawback of announcing to the enemy where the attack will come.

While the bombardment continues, the defense can simply move plenty of soldiers further back.

Even if the front-line defenders are wiped out, the line won't be broken in one go.

That's why the front has remained deadlocked for nearly ten years.

"Orders from the major: we'll set up a defensive line in the third trench."

"Roger!"

Trenches are usually built in multiple layers. If the first trench is overrun, the next is held at the second trench.

If the enemy is pushed back at the first trench it's a complete victory; if the second is lost it's a draw.

With reinforcements arriving during the bombardment, losing the third trench is rare.

"If the defense guys hold the line, we won't even get our turn."

"Lately the enemy charges in huge waves. We'll probably lose up to the second trench again."

"All that distance we advanced, wasted......"

When it comes to building this defensive line, the medic's role is—frankly—nonexistent.

Anyone wounded in the third trench, close to the rear, can be sent straight to the field hospital.

They'll get more precise treatment there than a rookie like me could give, so I'm starting to wonder why I'm here.

Taking up space, I'm more of a hindrance.

"Touri, if anything happens to me you're to risk your life to rescue and treat me. If nothing happens, just cower in the hole and shiver."

"......Yes, Captain."

From the captain's way of speaking, to be blunt, I have no idea why I was brought along.

The only way I can justify my existence is as a safety device to slightly lower the chance the captain might die.

"Enemy assault troops are advancing!"

Several hours later.

After the magic-cannon attack ended, the enemy charged.

From what Scout Allen-senpai could see through his recon scope, the enemy assault density was clearly greater than ours.

That must be what they meant by "relying on numbers."

"Ah—The first trench has already been breached."

"......Tch."

Less than an hour after the assault began, we were told the front line had been broken.

Which means the soldiers who had holed up in the trench were killed or taken prisoner.

"Tch, at least put up some resistance. What do you think the fruits of our suicidal assault are?"

"......"

Captain Garback showed no sign of worrying about the soldiers of the defense unit.

If anything he clicked his tongue and even complained.

"The second trench is about to be breached soon as well. Captain, please prepare yourself."

"What!? Geez, even though it's a charge under the rain this is way too fast. Are the only ones left in our defense unit complete cowards?"

"...rather, it seems the unit directly in front of us is pretty well-trained. They're charging at us with incredible momentum, ahead of the rest of the enemy."

The unit directly in front of us was advancing with tremendous force.

Hearing Allen's report, Captain Garback's eyebrows twitched.

His displeased face suddenly changed, and his lips twisted into a grin.

"Oh? What does the commander look like?"

"A small lancer with long golden hair, charging while wreathed in lightning."

"Oh, that's perfect. That's the enemy general's head."

"Gahaha," the captain laughed in a good mood, snatching the recon scope from Allen.

Then, confirming the enemy's face with his own eyes, he grinned.

"No mistake, it's the Lightning Spear Demon, Kamakiri."

"Kamakiri... is it?"

"An ace, the enemy's. Unlucky bastard, coming all this way to crash into the defensive stronghold where I'm lying in wait."

Captain Garback's eyes rolled menacingly.

Ace. That must mean an existence within the enemy comparable to Captain Garback.

"Precisely because it's raining, that guy's lightning magic will be even more effective."

"That guy charges fast, but he's also quick to decide to retreat. If we don't cripple his mobility—aim for his legs."

"Leave it to me."

"Good, draw him in well. I'll give the signal, the instant I charge out you'll snipe his leg. During that opening I'll lop off his head."

A meritorious deed, the enemy general's head. The captain was itching with obvious delight.

The bad mood from earlier seemed like a lie.

For my part, I felt disheartened to hear that the one leading the charging enemy unit was an ace.

"Today's my lucky day!"

The captain, rejoicing that the enemy coming to kill us is strong, is surely mad.

"Touri, stick only your head out of the trench and don't take your eyes off my back. If anything happens to me, use healing magic without hesitation. Allen, while keeping watch around us, if I'm wounded jump out and rescue me. Mariu, you'll charge Kamakiri to buy time."

""Understood.""

"The rest of you, return fire against the other enemies inside the trench. Don't let a single one set foot inside."

By the captain's order, I ended up sticking my face out of the trench just a little.

A scout would have a recon scope to extend upwards, but I wasn't issued one.

Am I going to get shot sticking my unprotected head above the trench?

"Don't worry, no bullets will fly behind me."

"Yes, I'm counting on you."

Frankly I'm scared, but if it's the captain's orders it can't be helped.

It's the sad reality that dying while following orders is better than being shot for insubordination.

"Captain! The enemy will be charging the main trench any moment now!"

"Alright! Counterattack, ready your rifles!"

With the signal, Captain Garback vigorously scrambled up out of the trench.

The dirt dust kicked up by him got into his mouth, making Salsa-kun grimace and spit.

"......Oh."

As instructed, I stuck my face out of the trench and watched the captain's back.

Captain Garback, still in a forward-leaning stance, was charging straight for the enemy commander.

"────!"

The small golden-haired lancer, Lightning Spear Demon Kamakiri, was cutting through the barbed wire with his prized small lance.

Barbed wire is a barrier made of iron wire. Normally one has to go around or blow it away with grenades.

That he could slash through it in one breath already shows how abnormal the enemy commander is...

"Die, you're my prize!"

Without a sound.

The rain-soaked blade of the captain was sucked into Kamakiri's lower abdomen.

Blood spray danced across the battlefield, and a deep groan of agony roared into the rain.

"────Agh!!"

The enemy ace, startled by the ambush, tried to leap backwards.

Not missing that opening, Captain Garback stepped in and raised his saber high—but—

"Tch."

Immediately after, a high-voltage current that seemed to evaporate the rain enveloped Kamakiri.

The brilliance of it was so intense that even I, watching from afar, was blinded, my vision turning pure white.

"Damned insect, how dare you!"

That must have been some lightning magic the enemy unleashed.

The power was so great I feared Captain Garback had been charred black, but...

At that close range, he had properly dodged the magic.

"Now, support the captain!"

"Fire!"

A few seconds after the captain dodged the magic and took distance, a spray of blood rose from the enemy commander's right thigh.

As ordered, someone had shot Kamakiri in the leg.

"Got you, you bastard!"

"Nice shot, Gray!"

But the enemy was no pushover; despite being shot in the leg Kamakiri retreated at full speed.

Even though Kamakiri's abdomen had been slashed by the captain's blade, and should have been mortally wounded.

"Where do you think you're going, insect! Fire more, take him down here!"

After shouting that, Captain Garback ran toward the golden-haired lancer.

The enemy was fast, but Captain Garback's dash was godlike.

He could easily catch up and lop off the enemy's head.

——He could have, but.

Out of the corner of my eye, something caught my attention.

Far ahead of Captain Garback with his sword ready, someone was firing something into the air with a rifle.

From my FPS game experience, I had a habit of flicking my eyes to the edges of my vision, not just the enemy in front.

Especially when it directly affects my life.

...Grenadier.

The grenadier had definitely just fired something toward the trench we were hiding in.

"Ah—!!"

The only one in the squad to notice, I quietly fell into panic.

What the enemy fired would land in the trench we were hiding in within a second.

When that happened, everyone would die—

"What's wrong Touri, were you shot!?"

"......[Shield]!"

Instantly, I cast a defensive spell at whatever it was.

I acted on my own, there was no time to ask the captain for permission.

"Huh? Wai—Touri?"

"Get down!"

At that moment, I was acting unconsciously.

Looking back now, I can only think my actions were incredibly foolish.

I actually formed a [Shield] spell, with the strength of a thin sheet of glass, against a grenade.

"Grenade incoming—"

If what fell was a 'contact' type, the kind that explodes on impact, I'd have been charred black.

Fortunately, the grenade thrown at us wasn't the impact-triggered type, but the timed type.

"A—a grenade!?"

"Get down!"

I was told later that grenades hurled by hand are mostly impact-triggered, while those shot from a dedicated launcher are usually timed.

It seems this is to prevent accidental detonation when the round is fired.

"I—I deflected it!"

The launched grenade rolled on, shattering my [Shield] from the impact.

With a sinister hiss—shhh—it came to rest a few meters away from me.

I was probably still within the blast radius; at this rate a serious injury was inevitable.

"Reach them in time, [Shield]......!"

Without a moment's pause, I cast the [Shield] spell once more.

A thin, pale-blue barrier unfolded between the rolling grenade and the squad members.

It was a fragile [Shield], unlikely to withstand a point-blank blast, yet far better than doing nothing.

"Touri-chan, that's dangerous!!"

The instant I completed the [Shield], someone tackled me to the ground—most likely Salsa-kun beside me.

I was slammed onto the muddy trench floor and pinned there by Salsa-kun.

A split second later, an ear-splitting blast and a cloud of dirt blacked out my vision,

"......Eh?"

When I came to, every breath scorched my lungs, and a violent shockwave of pain wracked my body.

A few seconds late, I realized that Salsa and I had been engulfed in the flames.

"You useless piece of—!!"

Through the ringing in my ears and splitting headache, I dimly heard Captain Garback's roar in the distance.

"Don't you dare run, you trash! Moron!!"

When I slowly opened my eyes, I was lying on my back at the trench's muddy edge.

Cold rain prickled like needles across my skin.

"You alive, Private Second Class Touri!?"

"Hey, stay with me!"

It seemed the blast had hurled and rolled me several meters away.

Luckily the rain-soaked earth cushioned me, sparing me any fatal wounds......

Both my legs throbbed with searing pain.

"That's a nasty burn. You won't be standing on those. Hey, still conscious?"

"Y-yes. What... happened to me?"

"Your feet are red and swollen, but no other injuries. You're not dying yet, so keep it together."

Gradually the surroundings came into focus. I tasted mud and snot in my mouth and choked.

"Damn it!! That coward ran off!"

As I slowly regained awareness, the captain—face purple with rage—returned to the trench.

It seemed he had failed to bring down the enemy Ace.

"And we took heavy losses! All lightly wounded trash, fall back—fall back!"

"Ah, uh......"

At the captain's order,

"Come on, relax, Touri-chan. It's all right, I'll carry you."

"Th-thank you... very much."

Hoisted onto the nearly unscathed Gray-senpai, I could finally survey the scene.

One soldier swayed with severe burns across half his body; another twitched on the trench floor—Garback's squad was a picture of total devastation.

"W-wait, please. That man needs treatment—"

Among the blast victims, the one convulsing inside the trench was the most critically wounded.

His back was charred black; he spasmed and his breathing grew ragged.

"If we don't treat him right now, he'll—"

"......Yeah. It's too late for him, Touri-chan."

Still, Gray-senpai started walking, carrying me away.

It's not too late at all—while he's breathing there's hope. Proper first aid could still—

"Allen-senpai, show her his face, will you?"

"......Yeah."

Slowly, Allen-senpai turned the prone soldier's face toward me.

Deliberately raising the body so I could see.

"——Salsa-kun?"

The soldier was Salsa.

During the explosion, he had shielded me—pushing me down and taking the full force of the blast at point-blank range.

"......Shrapnel took half his face. No saving him."

"Let him sleep. He did good."

The right side of his face was split open from eye to the back of the head. When his head was lifted, dark red brain matter spilled sluggishly onto the mud.

"Sa...l..."

Before I could finish his name in a daze,

Salsa-kun's body gave a final convulsion and went still forever.

After injuring both legs in last night's fight, I was carried to the field hospital.

Gail came running, her face pale, and I received treatment immediately.

I wasn't a serious case, but as a recovery-magic user my treatment priority was high.

While lightly wounded soldiers queued, I was assigned a bed and fell asleep at once.

......In a post-battle ward reeking of death and groans.

Private Second Class Salsa had fought on the western front for only ten days before dying in battle.

He was just eighteen, fresh out of high school.

The youth who had carried dreams and hopes for the future became a casualty protecting my clumsy self.

His bright future spilled away into a muddy puddle beneath the rain.

Yet such tragedies are commonplace on this western front.

One engagement claims nearly a thousand lives from both sides, most of them newly assigned rookies.

When rookies join the assault units, eighty percent die within half a year.

Only the surviving twenty percent—elite assault troops—earn the right to live hell in the trenches.

Which fate is happier, I honestly cannot say.

Salsa and I were never close enough to call friends.

We had barely spoken; I hardly knew him.

Barney Noel, an orphanage mate who died on day one, was far closer to me.

I knew clumsy, dim-witted Salsa couldn't survive this battlefield.

So I had kept my distance, building a wall around my heart.

——Yet why,

even after a night's sleep, does Salsa's half-missing face still cling to my mind?

His expressionless face, drooling brain matter, convulsing—behind my eyelids it appears and will not fade.

If I relax even slightly, I feel I'll burst into loud sobs.

Had Salsa-kun not pushed me down and shielded me, I would be the one missing half a face.

I never imagined surviving at the cost of another's life would hurt this much.

I was far weaker than I ever believed.

"Looks like your legs have healed, Medic Touri."

The day after surviving that fierce battle, I stared blankly at the empty air.

Until the terrifying-faced captain spoke to me, I kept gazing like a dead fish at Salsa's phantom floating in the void.

"......Captain Garback."

"I have questions for you. Report to my tent at once."

The captain came silently to my bedside and gave the order.

Glaring at me, Captain Garback's face was contorted with fury, his lips trembling.

Several reasons for his anger came to mind.

"Understood."

"Hey! Soldier, that girl still needs rest——"

"Shut up, it's an order from a superior."

Honestly, for some reason I felt grateful to be scolded then.

I felt that if I had just done something a little better, Salsa wouldn't have had to die.

It had to be that way, without a doubt.

"Get up, walk, Touri."

"......Yes."

Feeling half like a wraith, I stood up as urged.

Then I rose on the feet that Gail-san had carefully treated for burns, and followed the platoon leader.

"Hey, Touri, I hate people who never learn more than anything in this world."

"......Yes, Platoon Leader."

The instant I followed him into the platoon leader's tent——

A tremendous impact pierced my cheek, and I sprayed blood from my nose and collapsed onto the ground.

"Just the other day. When you use magic, what did I tell you to do first?"

"To ask Platoon Leader for permission."

As expected, waiting in the platoon leader's tent were fierce scolding and violence.

Captain Garback grabbed the collar of my fallen body and slammed me into the ground.

The impact left me breathless, and with my right heel I felt something shatter with a dull sound.

Using the [Shield] spell without permission. That was the reason for my scolding this time.

"You remembered, so why did you neglect it?"

"Because I'm incompetent."

Right after that answer, the platoon leader's iron fists struck my face, my chest, my stomach.

It was far harsher violence than when I had used healing magic on Salsa-kun on my own judgment.

"Hey, didn't I say? If you disobey orders twice, what happens?"

"......You said you would carry out... an execution."

"So you had the brains to remember my gracious guidance. Then that means you deliberately defied me."

"I have no excuse."

"Die, you little shit!!"

After a point I no longer knew what was being done to me, I only understood that brutal violence was being inflicted.

At this rate I'd die. I'd be beaten to death by Captain Garback.

I grasped that instinctively, yet I had no will left to resist or to beg for my life.

"Die, die, die, you useless brat! If you hate taking my orders so much, I'll let you die in battle next mission so you'll never have to hear them again!"

Before long blood oozed from the platoon leader's fists, and the tent floor was dyed crimson with my coughed-up blood.

I went on all fours and was struck without uttering a word.

"There are plenty of replacements for you!"

The violence continued until my whole body was as limp as salted fish.

Hands, feet, everything visible was covered in bruises. I vomited blood several times, and bones creaked and swelled.

"No food today. Stand in front of my tent at attention without moving."

"......Understood."

"No treatment. Just die like that, trash."

Receiving that order from the platoon leader——

I shakily dragged my broken leg and was made to stand outside the tent as told.

"You really got it rough, Private Second Class Touri the medic."

"......"

"Damn, the platoon leader too...... I get he's frustrated, but this is overkill."

After an hour-long 'guidance' from the platoon leader, waiting outside for me was Scout Allen-senpai.

Seeing my body reduced to rags, he looked terribly apologetic.

"......Excuse me, Senpai."

"What is it, Touri?"

"Um, Senpai, what exactly happened to you?"

Seeing Allen-senpai's face, I was startled.

After all——

"Ah, I got wrecked too. Man that hurts."

"......"

Allen-senpai bore injuries just as severe as mine.

And it seemed he had been beaten before me and made to stand for quite a long time.

"Forgive my rudeness, but did you also, perhaps, commit some insubordination?"

"Nah? I didn't do anything."

"Then did you offend the platoon leader in some way?"

"Well, that's definitely true."

At that moment I felt once more that Captain Garback's violence had gone too far.

Allen-senpai, punished by being made to stand, had injuries so severe he should normally be in the field hospital.

Even if he had offended the captain, inflicting this much violence was too inefficient.

"......I deserved to be beaten. After all, I did nothing."

"Eh?"

"After the captain sortied, perimeter watch was my job as recon. I should've spotted that grenade."

Allen-senpai bit his lip in frustration.

A small drop of blood trickled down his chin.

"If I'd noticed the grenadier, I could've handled it with magic or led evacuation. But until the moment you used a defensive spell, I didn't notice the grenade."

"......It was fired from quite a distance. Maybe from your position it was in a blind spot."

"Even so, I should've sensed it by sound. I was too focused on the fight between Captain Garback and Lightning Spear Demon Kamakiri and slacked on perimeter watch."

"......"

"And so, a green rookie like you spotted the enemy grenade I missed, saving the squad. The captain yelled at me and this is the result."

Allen-senpai taught me what I should have done when I noticed the grenade.

When a grenade is incoming, the correct move is to point out the impact point and give evacuation orders.

Timed grenades have a few seconds delay after landing before exploding.

The lethal blast radius is roughly four to five meters, so if you run and drop immediately you might survive.

"......Just as the captain said. My screw-up killed a promising rookie with a future."

"Th-that's wrong. Salsa-kun shielded me. I was slow to drop."

"Perimeter watch isn't a medic's job, that's not your sin. I'm ashamed for making a fifteen-year-old girl assigned ten days ago do such things."

Allen-senpai's words were laced with indescribable regret.

Was the cold sweat on his cheek from pain, or was it tears?

"If I'd done my job, Salsa wouldn't have died and you wouldn't be battered. Touri, if you hate the captain, hate me instead."

"......I don't hate anyone."

"He's a violent, self-centered psychopath, but the responsibility for this is definitely mine. The captain's fury is justified, and he probably went too far beating you in frustration."

After saying that, Allen-senpai apologized softly.

He truly feels that all responsibility lies with him.

"Hold your head high, Touri. Sure, you may have disobeyed orders, but if you hadn't changed the grenade's path on the spot, casualties would've been worse. It was a Strike Course grenade; half the squad could've died."

"......Really?"

"Absolutely. I saw clearly when your Shield deflected the grenade. Your insubedience definitely saved lives."

Allen-senpai smiled gently for the first time.

"So don't blame yourself."

He told me that.

"......Sun's set. Allen, permission for treatment granted."

"Thank you."

In the end, neither Allen-senpai nor I ate or drank that day and stood the entire time.

My broken leg was swollen dark red, my shattered heel kept throbbing.

Allen-senpai, standing all day, finally received permission for treatment after dark.

"But Touri, you're not done. I'll personally train you plenty."

"......Thank you."

"C-Captain!?"

But it seemed I still hadn't been forgiven.

Perhaps two counts of insubordination were simply too much to stomach.

"I-if you're going to do anything else, please do it to me. The responsibility for this is on me!"

"Shut up, Allen, I'll kill you. Touri, get over here."

Dragging my unmoving leg, I totter after the captain.

Because it is an order.

"Captain! Please wait!"

"Shut up! You'd better get to the field hospital and get treated before tomorrow!"

Allen-senpai tried to come after me, even tumbling over himself.

But he still couldn't move properly and collapsed, unable to get up.

Ignoring Allen-senpai, the captain walked a few minutes away from the tent to the rear and there ordered me to stand at attention.

"All right, time for your lesson, shit brat."

The captain casually picked up a small stone lying nearby.

"Hey!!"

"......Guh!!"

And with force he threw it straight at me.

The stone struck my flank, gouging the flesh and leaving a large wound.

"Don't dodge. This is instruction, got it?"

"......Yes."

Even though I'm already covered in wounds, he keeps on punishing me.

Captain Garback might truly intend to kill me.

Perhaps this is an execution for insubordination.

"Hey, Touri. Why'd you learn a Shield spell in the first place? Who taught you?"

"Medical Lieutenant Gail ordered me to learn it, sir."

"Ah. Makes sense. I get it now."

Captain Garback picked up another stone with a sour look.

Looks like I'm about to get hit again.

"So? What's the point of that trashy spell?"

"It's, um, for defense—"

"I'm asking why you'd waste mana on such a flimsy spell. Fine, then."

Captain Garback glared at me like I was the enemy and said,

"Permission granted to use the [Shield] spell. Show me this 'defense'."

"Gh!"

The instant he spoke, the captain hurled the stone with all his might.

"[Shield]!! ......Agh!"

"What's wrong? Thought you were gonna defend?"

My Shield spell is still incomplete. It can't match the thickness and hardness of Medical Lieutenant Gail's.

The captain's stone pierced my Shield and slammed straight into my broken leg.

"What's the matter? Block it with that fancy defense of yours!"

"Sh-[Shield]! Ouch!"

"You're getting hit every time, you trash! What kind of idiot wastes mana on garbage like that!!"

No matter how many Shields I raised, none of them stopped a single stone the captain threw.

"Have you finally grasped how useless you are, you scrub?!"

I wasn't allowed to dodge, and a fist-sized rock hit me square in the solar plexus, knocking me to the ground.

Sour bile rose; a mouthful of bloody vomit and snot spread across my tongue.

Ah... now I understand what Gray-senpai meant.

Dying would definitely be better than this.

"Y-yes... I'm... useless..."

"Get up, you useless brat! Quit lying around and brace your [Shield]!!"

From the moment I was dragged into this war, my misfortune was sealed.

If I can just die here, maybe that would be best—

"Angled defense, you moron. Hold [Shield] at an angle!"

Eventually the captain stopped pelting me with stones.

To make it easy for me to see, he spread a large [Shield] in the shape of a triangle.

"......Huh?"

"Medical Lieutenant Gail may be a pro at medicine, but she's an amateur when it comes to front-line tactics. If you could use [Shield], why didn't you come to me?"

Captain Garback silently kept the [Shield] in place.

He showed me the shape—its apex facing me, bent into a chevron.

"Try it in this shape, Touri."

"Uh, um... Sh-[Shield]!"

"No good. Not even close."

Bend the Shield into a chevron.

Told so suddenly, I couldn't picture it and failed.

As usual, a flat slab formed in front of me.

"Until you're used to it, picture the Shield jutting from your fingertips."

"From my... fingertips..."

"Then shape the Shield with your palms into the form you want."

Saying that, Captain Garback showed me by forming a triangle with both palms facing outward.

I mimicked him and tried to form the [Shield] in front of my palms.

"Sh-[Shield]! ...Ah!"

"Good. That's it."

Now I too could form a thin triangular [Shield], just like the captain.

...I see. This shape—

"Take this."

Without a moment's pause, Captain Garback hurled a pebble at me.

A full-power throw, just like before.

But when the stone struck the angled [Shield],

the Shield shattered, but the stone ricocheted off in another direction.

"Get it? You're supposed to deflect enemy attacks. You don't take them head-on."

"......"

"If you'd managed to angle your [Shield] like this against that blast, you could've deflected some of the shrapnel. The losses would've been very different."

Captain Garback spoke in a stern voice.

If I had mastered this technique, the casualties would've been fewer.

"So... Private Salsa—"

"With luck, he might've survived."

The world spun; dizziness hit me.

It was so simple. After just a quick lesson from the captain, my [Shield] became far stronger.

If I'd only learned to angle the Shield, that sweet boy Salsa—

"Had you asked me ahead of time for permission to use [Shield] on the fly, I'd have taught you this technique, of course."

"......"

"Now do you understand why you were beaten to a pulp?"

Darkness closed in from the edges of my vision.

That's right. I'd been careless.

I hadn't shared with the captain what I'd learned about the [Shield] spell, because I was still in the middle of learning it from Medical Lieutenant Gail.

Because of that, he—

"Instruction's over. I'll give you permission to receive treatment at the field hospital."

"Y-yes..."

"From now on, I'll allow you to use the [Shield] spell up to twice in emergencies. There won't be time to ask me in the heat of the moment."

Getting beaten was only natural.

I'd been taught the importance of orders from a superior before, yet I'd neglected that and taken the life of a comrade from the same cohort.

"......Next time there won't be one, Touri."

With those words, Garback returned to the tent alone.

"T-Touri-chan!?"

Then, feeling like I was about to vomit, I staggered back to the field hospital.

Between the pain wracking my entire body and the weight of the sin I'd committed, my mind felt like it was going to break.

"......That Garback!! How could he do that to a gravely wounded girl soldier!"

Unable to think of anything else, I let Gail the head of the Medical Unit's shrill scream of rage be my lullaby.

"I've reached my limit! I'm filing a protest as head of the Medical Unit! To send her back wounded after treatment—what the hell is that brute thinking!"

Slowly, I let go of consciousness.

The next day.

Crushed by responsibility for the mess I'd caused, I fell asleep and woke in a field-hospital bed.

Beside me lay Allen-senpai from the same squad.

"......You're awake, Touri-chan."

When I lifted my head, a gentle voice spoke to me.

Turning, I saw the beautiful Gail the head of the Medical Unit, tear-stained but smiling at her desk.

"Good morning, Touri-chan. I'm so glad you're safe—you survived yesterday's hell."

"Yes, Head of the Medical Unit. Good morning."

Apparently Gail had worried about me and come to check on me.

The injuries to my body had almost completely healed without a scar.

She must have treated me herself.

"Now that you're awake, could you get changed right away? The number of casualties has become unbelievable."

"Unbelievable, ma'am?"

"Absolutely unbelievable."

I was told that yesterday's defensive battle had caused considerable losses.

Allied dead alone numbered a thousand; counting the wounded brought the total to about three thousand.

The enemy had apparently poured a great deal of strength into yesterday's offensive.

"I know you just got over your injuries, but we're desperately short-handed. I've already gotten Garback's permission—please help with treatment today."

"Yes, understood. From now until 0500 tomorrow, I place myself under the command of Gail the head of the Medical Unit."

"Thank you. ......Honestly, I wanted you to start last night, but thanks to that idiot's tantrum......"

For just a moment, Gail the head of the Medical Unit wore a terrifying expression.

When a flood of patients is admitted, a medic's duties become extremely busy.

Having slept so soundly at such a difficult time must have angered everyone.

I would have to apologize properly later.

"Just how much less work would we have if Garback weren't here? ......Sigh."

"I'm terribly sorry for the trouble I've caused through my own incompetence."

"It's not your fault, Touri-chan. You're diligent and work hard. Besides, I heard the reason for Garback's punishment—it was because of the [Shield] I taught you, wasn't it? ......I'm sorry."

"Not at all. It was solely because I failed to report. I understand completely that the platoon leader's guidance yesterday was entirely appropriate."

"Hmm...... You're honestly far too earnest for an assault-unit medic."

Hearing my reply, Gail the head of the Medical Unit looked troubled.

What was the matter?

"I may as well tell you since there's no hiding it—I actually requested yesterday that the higher-ups return you to my medical unit."

"Was that because you judged I could no longer endure front-line duty?"

"No. When I sent a medic under Garback, I made him promise—strictly—that no matter what, the medic's life would be protected. Yet you were carried in with severe burns, and that brute himself is badly hurt from his own corporal punishment. The promise was broken."

"......I see."

"The medical unit is short-handed as it is; I absolutely will get you back."

Field-hospital medics are chronically understaffed. When beds are full, the number of recovery spells is never enough.

So, bad as it is for the body, when mana runs out we drink elixirs and cast recovery spells until our spirits are exhausted.

It's the kind of brutal labor that would make even the worst black company of my previous life pale.

"I don't know if it'll pass in one go, but...... I'll make them understand how many soldiers can be saved by adding just one more medic."

Dark bags sat heavily under the eyes of Gail the head of the Medical Unit. She had probably been up all night.

There are only a few dozen medics, and recovery magic is all about numbers.

Even a rookie like me becomes a significant workforce. If I died carelessly it would be a serious problem.

"Well then, since you're awake, go wash your face. The morning rounds of Ward D will start soon—come with me, Touri-chan."

"Understood."

In the end, how I'm used is up to the higher-ups' judgment.

The mistake that killed Salsa-kun yesterday came from my own negligence.

If they decide that sending such a careless brat to the front line is less useful than having her work medical in the rear, that can't be helped.

"......Also, try not to brood too much. You were having nightmares, terribly."

"I'll be careful."

As I left the desk, the head of the Medical Unit gave me a gentle warning. Gail really does observe people well.

To be honest, I was still dragging myself over what happened to Salsa-kun.

Yet for the sake of the patients suffering now, I had to switch my feelings.

If a medic who'd slept plenty made a mistake from lack of focus, there'd be no excuse.

"Touri-chan, your mana capacity has grown more than I expected."

"......Really?"

After joining the morning rounds of Ward D, a senior medic said that to me.

"Touri-chan, you're fifteen, right?"

"Yes, that's right."

"I see—you're still growing. At this rate, you'll be one of our mainstays by next year."

"There's no way I could catch up to you seniors in just one year."

"Well, I won't be here next year."

This senior was what you might call the highly capable type.

Originally a healer researching medicine at university, he had been sent to the front after conscription.

Both his knowledge and recovery magic were excellent; despite being a conscript he had been made head nurse.

"Once my three years of service are up next year, I'm going back to university. If you survive, Touri-chan, why not come to my school?"

"University?"

"Yeah—if you train properly there and master recovery magic, you won't go hungry even after the war ends."

"Thank you for the invitation; I'll definitely consider it."

If I make it back alive. The senior had voiced that thought.

Medics working at field hospitals basically do not die.

Casualties rarely reach the field hospital set at the very rear of the battlefield.

"My own chances of survival aren't very high, though."

"......Well, yeah. I feel for you."

So apart from a funky medic like me assigned to the assault unit, the mortality rate for medics is quite low. Unless deployed with the defense units, they almost never die.

Volunteers can earn rear duty if they distinguish themselves, and conscripts can return home after surviving three years of service.

I hear there are oddballs who actually want to keep being front-line medics forever.

"I just want this war to end quickly. Advancing medicine through research is far better for humanity than cleaning up after slaughter on the front."

"If the higher-ups heard you say that, you'd be in trouble."

"Nah, they wouldn't. It's how I really feel."

So those attached to the medical unit generally have a weak sense of being soldiers.

Most see themselves as civilians forced to work in a danger zone.

"Making healers patch up guys who go off to kill—what a joke."

That's why their values feel very close to those of ordinary citizens.

They're decent people whose sensibilities haven't been poisoned by war.

"Take a look outside the hospital tent—see the soldiers digging holes?"

"Yes, it looks like they're digging trenches again today."

Following the flow of conversation, the senior pointed outside.

There, soldiers with shovels had gathered and were digging a large hole.

It was a common sight on the front lines.

"No point digging trenches behind the field hospital. Those are graves."

"Graves, you say?"

"Yeah, graves for the lucky ones whose bodies were actually recovered. Corpses on a fierce battlefield get left out in the open—those who get buried and burned are the lucky ones."

Now that it's mentioned, the holes do look too round for trenches.

And around the holes, some soldiers were weeping or silently praying.

That really does look like a burial.

"This morning I spotted one of my own patients among them. A guy whose wrist was torn off, carried in screaming."

"......"

"I did the best job I could, carefully re-attached the wrist so it could move like before. He grinned and thanked me. Three days later he died in battle and ended up in that hole."

"Then that was just bad luck..."

"Luck? Don't get it wrong. If the country had just said 'We give up, let's stop,' that life wouldn't have been lost. That guy was killed by the country."

Having said that, the senior looked into the distance at the bodies being thrown into the pit,

"I pray you won't be among the corpses piled up every day."

he murmured.

"......Ah."

And then I—

"Excuse me, senior, may I take a short break?"

"Hmm? Oh, sure, your mana's about spent too. Go refresh yourself a bit."

"Thank you very much."

Near the freshly dug graves I spotted someone.

"Then I'll step away for a while."

That someone was Allen-senpai.

Yesterday, the scout-senpai who'd been thoroughly 'guided' by Captain Garback and laid up in the field hospital.

If he can move again, I should at least greet him.

"......Allen-senpai."

"Oh, Touri, is it?"

As expected of the medical unit's work, almost all the injuries Allen-senpai had taken from last night's 'punishment' were fully healed.

He was holding a shovel and taking part in grave-making.

"Are you feeling better now?"

"Yeah, thanks. Glad to see you're in better shape than I expected too."

Allen-senpai smiled gently at me.

At this rate he should be able to return without problems starting tomorrow.

"......Touri, good timing. That kid's hard to leave alone."

"Good timing, you say?"

"Yeah. Us guys with few rest days don't often get chances to send off comrades like this."

Allen-senpai said that and, with a glance, urged me toward the pile of corpses.

Lying there was—

"Salsa-kun......"

"Yeah, cremation starts now."

The face of my classmate Salsa-kun, peeking out from a haphazard heap of bodies.

"......"

I feel my heartbeat quicken.

His skin was unnaturally pale, his face red-black and burnt, cloth bound around the damaged part of his head to hide it.

......I remember.

At the banquet not long ago, Salsa-kun tried to do a comedic naked dance.

I never disliked that foolish yet somehow gentle personality of his.

"Say, Touri, I've got a nice memory about Salsa."

"About me, you say? Allen-senpai?"

"Yeah. It's nothing big, though."

Soon, all the collected bodies were tossed into the pit, and wildflowers and weeds blooming nearby were laid on top.

A soldier dressed like a priest stepped forward and began the eulogy to pray for their souls.

"The other day when we went out to buy women, he told me. He felt really indebted to you for saving his life."

"Salsa-kun did, to me?"

"Yeah. He'd been saved but couldn't even share his supper with you, so the debt stayed unpaid."

At Allen-senpai's words, I suddenly remembered.

When I first saved his life after he disobeyed orders, he missed the briefing and skipped supper, so I never got anything in return.

"Salsa used to say: 'Next time, I'll protect Touri-chan no matter what, and I'll tell her, "Debt repaid!"'"

"......So that's why he did something so dangerous..."

I never realized Salsa-kun had been thinking such things.

Looking back, when he received the order to be my meat shield, he seemed strangely eager.

Could it be that, in his eagerness to protect me, he overdid it—

"He kept his word. I salute the kid, Salsa."

"For such a reason..."

—and lost his own life?

"......Right, time for silent prayer."

Before long the priest-like soldier chanted the spell, and flames wrapped the entire pit.

The damp stench of burning fat spread around us.

Yet not a single soldier tried to leave the spot.

Corpses become breeding grounds for infectious microbes.

Burning them as much as possible before burial is preferred.

But fuel is precious, so you can't pour it over the bodies.

Using only the body fat and the clothes as fuel, the corpses burn slowly.

"────"

Salsa-kun was quietly enveloped by the fire.

His skin melted away, dripping something black, burning in a quiet flame like a candle.

Salsa-kun wrapped in fire did not look peaceful at all.

Heat opened his mouth, bent his hands, curled his back, contorting his face in a death agony.

"......"

"That's right, that's fine, Touri."

Once it reached that point, I couldn't take it anymore.

No matter how I held back, tears overflowed and wouldn't stop.

"Don't bottle it up. Don't act grown-up when you're still a rookie."

"......"

"Let it out properly, you'll switch gears faster. ...That's why it's the right answer."

I could no longer bear to watch Salsa-kun burn.

My heart is weak. I never thought I was such a fragile person.

"────gh!"

I dropped to my knees, covered my face with my hands, stifling a voiceless cry.

Tears fell in streams, unstoppable.

The droplets reflected the wavering flames.

"A silent prayer for our brave comrades."

And I cried aloud, shamefully.

For four days after Salsa-kun died, I worked in the medical unit instead of returning to the front.

Offensives were launched almost daily since then, turning the field hospital into a living hell.

There was no leeway to leave a single rookie like me idle; Medical Lieutenant Gail negotiated with the platoon leader.

I worked without sleep or rest, but at least I wasn't in mortal danger.

"Ahh~, that helps."

"I'm living for this one cup, y'know."

The senior medics would now and then pull a blue-colored medicine bottle from their pockets and drink it.

When I asked what that medicine was, they told me it was a mana potion.

That's right. In this world, just like a fantasy, there existed an "elixir that restores mana."

Moreover, if you drank this medicine you'd forget fatigue and could keep working energetically no matter how many all-nighters you pulled, or so they said.

......I was given some of that elixir too, and it truly was a mysterious drug that woke me up and made my head spin faster.

The senior medic drank several of those elixirs and worked on with cloudy eyes and a vacant giggle.

This elixir is powerfully effective, but on the other hand it's bad for the body and highly addictive, so you mustn't drink more than one bottle a day.

On the desk of Gail, who had told me that, five of those elixir bottles were rolling around.

......By my previous-life standards it looked like a drug that would violate the law, so I decided not to ask about the ingredients.

"Touri-chan. ......Sorry, but Garback wants you back today."

"Understood."

While I was living those days of grueling work, Captain Garback at the front summoned me for the first time in a while.

If I was being recalled while still so busy, did that mean there would be an offensive today?

I hadn't slept at all these four days and my condition was awful...... but orders are orders.

"I'm sorry; if only I had the authority......"

"No, I have no complaints about the duties I've been given."

It was four in the morning, the sky still dark, the hour when the soldiers were all breathing softly in sleep.

After saluting Medical Lieutenant Gail and parting, I ran to Captain Garback's tent.

If I failed to make it by the original assembly time of five o'clock, I'd be in for punishment, so I ran for all I was worth.

"Private Second Class Touri the medic, reporting for duty!"

"Hmph, so the screw-up showed up. Did you enjoy your cushy rear-echelon job? Get your head back in the game."

"Yes, Captain."

When I somehow reached the assembly point on time, the captain was leaning against the trench wall as usual.

The squad members had finished assembling, and Allen-senpai, now fully healed, was there looking like his old self.

"I'm issuing orders. You infantry dig holes; Touri, you come with me— I'll drill you."

"Yes, Captain."

I'd braced myself for an offensive today, but the captain had the infantry start digging holes.

Looking around at the other nearby units, I didn't feel that tense pre-assault atmosphere.

Since he said he'd "drill me," perhaps it was a continuation of the earlier lecture on [Shield] magic.

Or maybe I'd angered him again and punishment awaited.

I was terrified, but I resolved to obey without resistance.

"Also, Touri, you haven't met the replacements yet. Go greet them."

"Roger."

Prompted by Captain Garback, I looked over the squad and saw faces I didn't recognize.

While I'd been away, the squad had received reinforcements.

"I'm Private Second Class Touri Noel, medic. I'm a rookie who arrived only two weeks ago. I humbly ask for your guidance, seniors."

From the look of it, there were three new faces.

And they were awfully young...... All of them looked the same age as Salsa-kun, or maybe even younger.

"......Private Second Class Naridome."

"I'm Private Second Class Rodley. ......Just like you heard, I'm a scrawny runt."

Two of the newcomers were privates second class—the same rank as Salsa-kun.

Perhaps they were classmates shipped to the front at the same time as me.

"......"

"Huh? What're you staring at, shorty?"

The one named Naridome quickly looked away, while the one named Rodley glared at me in irritation.

One struck me as taciturn and unfriendly, the other as foul-mouthed.

"I am Corporal Verdi. I've been given command authority second only to Sergeant Garback in this squad. My specialty is reconnaissance, and I believe I have a fair bit of knowledge, so if there's anything you don't understand, feel free to ask."

Finally, Corporal Verdi introduced himself—he seemed, well, normal.

Probably a military-academy graduate? Young as he looked, his rank was high.

Corporal is one rank below sergeant. Aside from Captain Garback, no one here outranked him.

I resolved to use polite language with Corporal Verdi without fail.

"Done? Then Touri, come here."

"Yes, Captain."

They are strangers. I must be careful not to grow close.

If I cherish them and they die, I'll be hurt again just like with Salsa-kun.

This time I'll keep my heart at a distance and cultivate the spirit to say "none of my concern" no matter who dies.

"Ten more laps—keep shouting!"

What Captain Garback assigned me was running.

And not just any running—long-distance while carrying the same gear as on the battlefield.

"One, two. One, two."

"Too quiet! Are you panting to seduce me, you lewd brat?!"

"One, two! One, two!!"

"That's it—raise your voice!"

What is this? This is probably infantry training, isn't it?

Of course, I understand the importance of basic training.

I know this effort is vital to my survival rate.

But I'm a medic. Even now, while I'm training, my seniors are frantically treating patients in the rear.

......Frankly, abandoning that work to run fills me only with guilt.

"Ten laps complete!"

"Good. Defense drill next. You may cast [Shield] twice."

"Yes, Captain!"

The instant I finished the quota, Sergeant Garback began hurling stones in rapid succession.

At once I raised my palm outward as I'd been taught.

Since I'm being drilled, I must improve even a little.

"[Shield]"

Just as I learned the other day, I succeeded in forming a chevron-shaped shield.

The captain's stones glanced off the shield and only grazed the edge of my body.

"Deployment speed is good, but the angle's sloppy! Form the shield at a right angle!"

"Yes, Captain!!"

While criticizing, the captain casually kept pelting stones.

As told, I adjusted the angle to make the shield as close to a right angle as possible.

The next volley didn't graze me once.

"Good—back to running! Don't slack yet, the real thing starts now."

"Yes, Captain."

"While you're running I'll throw stones by surprise. In that case, defend with [Shield]. Even while running, never let your guard down!"

"Yes, Captain!"

Still, it feels wrong to say this as someone receiving the training.

If only this drill could be done before sending us to the front......

"Your lack of stamina is slowing the whole unit's pace. You're a sluggish caterpillar."

"Yes—I'm terribly sorry."

"Even on days you work as a medic, you'll run the minimum distance of today's quota. If you have time to spare, have the others throw stones at you. If you train during breaks, no one will complain."

Training after an all-nighter was brutally harsh on my still-immature body.

In the end I couldn't even stand; every muscle screamed and cramped.

Left alone, tomorrow I'd be too sore to move. I have to loosen up later.

"All right. From tomorrow you're back on medic duty. Don't slack."

"Yes—thank you very much."

"In a few weeks even a caterpillar will grow into an ant. If you don't, I'll kill you."

From bits of his talk during training, the captain seemed furious that my slow legs had once forced a halt in the advance.

Until two weeks ago I was a fifteen-year-old brat playing in an orphanage. Of course my stamina is pathetic.

So it seemed the platoon leader wanted to somehow build my stamina, but since Medical Lieutenant Gail had ordered me to work in the medical unit, the chance never came.

Flustered, Captain Garback reached the conclusion that "then you can train while you're on medic duty" and imposed a self-training regimen on me.

"......I'll call you out again and check your progress. Slack off and I'll beat your face into a different shape."

Apparently I'd lost the right to rest during the rare breaks in my busy medic duties.

I understand that front-line duty requires basic stamina. But will my body hold up?

"Ah, what's this, shorty? Eyes like a dead fish."

"......Good, evening. Um, Private Second Class Rodley——sir."

"Worn out just from running? Pathetic."

After finishing training with Captain Garback, I was utterly exhausted.

No words could describe my current state more accurately.

This may be the first time in this life or my previous one that I've used up every ounce of strength and will.

"Excuse me, I'm going on ahead."

"Tch."

Yet tonight I would finally get a full night's sleep for the first time in ages.

Because Captain Garback had ordered me to report for duty at the field hospital at 0500 tomorrow.

In other words, for this night alone I was allowed to sleep soundly.

I'm sorry to the senior medics still on duty, but please let me rest tonight.

Otherwise I really will die.

"Touri-chan, good work—"

"Thank you for your hard work, Gray-senpai."

"You're completely spent. Sergeant Garback's boot camp is brutal, huh."

Gray-senpai, who had been near Private Second Class Rodley, gave me a sympathetic look.

Yes, stamina training after an all-nighter was too much. I can't move a finger.

"It's a bit early, but I'll take my leave to rest."

"Sure, sure. Get to bed early. One of the other rookies already turned in."

I glanced toward the trench and saw the silent private already lying down.

The one who had introduced himself as Naridome.

"......Why, like this...... I, I......"

He curled up facing the trench wall, muttering to himself nonstop.

Even when I tried to greet him, he ignored me completely.

"Um, what about Naridome-san?"

"Ah, new recruits who've seen something terrifying often end up like that. Leave him be."

Gray-senpai, reading my thoughts, gave a dry laugh and explained.

He feels similar to the patient who rampaged in the field hospital the other day.

He's a little scary, so let's keep our distance and sleep.

"Good night then, Gray-senpai."

"Yeah, good night, Touri-chan."

I moved to the far end of the trench and laid my body in a small groove.

"......"

And then, literally like mud, I fell asleep.

"......"

——There, a nostalgic scene spread out before me.

It was the vacant lot next to the orphanage, where I was playing tag with my childhood friends.

In the circle of laughing playmates I could even see Barney.

This had been my everyday life just half a month earlier.

Laughing with the other orphans, playing in a safe square—that was "normal."

Yet that "peace" had been possible only because front-line soldiers risked their lives to hold the enemy back.

I want to go back to that place.

I want to run away from this war, throw everything aside, and return to that orphanage.

I want to drink the warm soup Director made and sleep in a fluffy bed.

"That's no good, Touri."

The next moment, Salsa-kun's death mask flashed through my mind.

His body contorted in agony, charred black as flames wrapped around him—Salsa-kun's figure flashed back and his voice echoed.

Just looking at that half-missing face makes my chest tighten and my heart race.

He risked his life to protect and save me.

Yet because of my flawed [Shield] spell, he lost his life.

Salsa-kun's death is my fault. So I can't leave him behind.

I can't go home alone while leaving him in such a lonely place.

I have to keep going, for Salsa-kun's sake too.

"Trying to take the easy way out alone is unfair."

"——gh!"

So, Salsa-kun, at least in my dreams—

During this brief rest, please let me dream of the warm, happy orphanage.

When I wake, I'll fight with everything I have again tomorrow morning.

So please don't be angry. Don't do something scary like grabbing my collar.

Please, I beg you——

"......hah!"

"gh!?"

The overwhelming sense of wrongness jerked me awake.

The gentle Salsa-kun could never grab my collar and yell at me.

He was a true gentleman, calm and kind.

"Eh? Wha......?"

"Tch."

Which meant someone in reality was grabbing my collar.

Realizing that, I opened my eyes to a man with bloodshot eyes right in front of me.

"Wha—ghmph!"

"Shut up. Stay quiet."

The moment he saw I was awake he clamped a hand over my mouth and started strangling my neck.

"Resist and I'll kill you. Stay still."

In the darkness I can't make out his face clearly.

I gather someone from the squad has attacked me in my sleep.

The man's hand had already slipped under my uniform and was violating my bare skin.

"......"

How careless. To think I didn't wake up until it came to this.

Normally I'd wake the instant I was touched, but tonight I was sleeping deeply.

If I stay quiet and don't resist, I'll be charged with fraternization in violation of military regulations.

Or more likely, he'll kill me to hide the evidence of rape.

"......ow!? Wha—what!?"

"Wh—"

So I spread my legs and kicked, not the man on top of me, but someone sleeping beside me.

If I cried out carelessly I might be killed, so I had to get help as quietly as possible.

I swung the leg I could move freely and woke the person next to me.

"Um... Touri-chan? Wait, what are you doing!?"

From the voice it sounded like Gray-senpai sleeping beside me.

After kicking him several times, Gray-senpai noticed something was wrong.

"Hey, you! Who are you? State your unit!"

"......Whatever, forget it, tch......"

With Gray-senpai's rifle pointed at him, the man reluctantly released my throat.

Soon the others around us woke up and lights were shone on the man.

"——Naridome, you!"

What was revealed under the light was——

the dangerous-feeling newbie who had been muttering something before sleep——Private Second Class Naridome.

"Don't move, Naridome. Touri-chan, come over here."

"Thank you very much."

While Gray-senpai kept his rifle trained on him, the newbie Private Second Class Naridome clicked his tongue and raised both hands.

I crawled across the ground as I was and escaped from under the lecherous man.

......When I got to my feet, I noticed my clothes were quite disheveled.

My shirt had been pulled up to my neck, and my trousers and underwear had been shifted aside.

How deeply had I been asleep?

"Explain what you were doing, Private Second Class Naridome."

"......It's always like this, damn it. ......At least let me have one last sweet memory......"

"Hey, answer properly!"

While straightening my shifted clothes, I moved behind Gray-senpai.

I never thought I'd be looked at that way...... I'd let my guard down.

"Please calm down, Private First Class Gray. It's nighttime—other units will be disturbed."

"Ah, Corporal Verdi——sir."

"For now, I, as your superior, will take charge here. Private First Class Gray, please look after Touri-san."

"......Roger that."

A new-looking, sensible corporal stepped in, as if to restrain the nearly-hysterical Gray-senpai.

After glaring at Private Second Class Naridome, Gray-senpai spread his arms protectively and took one step back from me.

"Then let me ask again. Naridome, what exactly were you doing?"

"......Nothing much."

Laying hands on a female soldier at the front is punished severely. In cases of rape the death penalty is possible.

What Private Second Class Naridome had done to me was a grave felony—even a firing squad wouldn't be out of place.

"Naridome. If you keep refusing to talk, I'll have to restrain you."

"Ah——...... Yeah, yeah, I did it...... I got worked up...... so I touched the girl......"

"You understand that violates military regulations, right?"

"......I only needed to finish it to the end, right......? Even a corporal goes to buy women on days off......"

"Prostitution doesn't break regulations. I'm questioning you about your indecent act toward a female soldier."

"Tch...... I only touched her."

Private Second Class Naridome...... the man who attacked me answered Corporal Verdi's questioning without the slightest shame.

Yet, for some reason, there was no sign of impatience in his eyes.

"Oh, that's right. I was invited, you know, by that girl......"

"Huh?"

"What happened earlier was consensual, yes. Then I'm innocent, right? Um...... what was her name again, Medic-chan?"

What floated in Mr. Naridome's pupils was resignation.

He had been defeated by battlefield terror, given up on surviving, and attacked me as a last bit of fun before hell.

"Medic-chan, you invited me yesterday evening, right? Said we should do something naughty together."

"No such fact exists."

"No, no, you did invite me. Ah, so you set me up. You got me in the mood, let me attack you, and then played the innocent when push came to shove. Lowest of the low."

"Private Second Class Naridome. I confirmed she went straight to sleep after returning from training. False reports are punishable by execution."

"Tch......"

The face of Naridome making excuses no longer looked sane.

He showered me, who had rejected his advances, with as much malice as he could muster, wearing a vulgar grin.

This was definitely not the attitude of someone caught in the act trying to explain himself.

"So testifies Private First Class Gray. Naridome, did you file a false report to a superior?"

"......You were lazing around in the safe rear until yesterday. ......I only touched her a little and she's playing the victim?"

"No excuses, then. I'll restrain you and we'll await the platoon leader's judgment at dawn."

"Ahh, I'm gonna be killed. Because of you I'll be killed."

As Corporal Verdi tied his limbs, he offered no resistance, only glaring at me with eyes full of resentment.

......I didn't think I deserved to be looked at like that.

"If you'd matched my story you wouldn't have died. Ahh, this is the worst...... Hey, how does it feel to kill someone, even though you're a medic?"

"Don't listen to him, Touri-chan. This guy's not right in the head."

"Anyway, it's weird for a woman to come to the front and then complain about being messed with...... Rather, putting women on the front has no meaning except for comfort......"

He kept spitting resentful words at me as if to provoke.

But if I'd gone along with his excuse I would have been punished for seducing a man, so I felt no guilt.

"You murderer...... if you'd understood my intentions this wouldn't have happened......"

"Naridome, you bastard! One more word and I'll shoot you here on the spot!"

"Wha——? You'll execute me without confirming with a superior...... Squad Leader Allen? That's a breach of military law......"

"Touri-chan, don't let it get to you. ......It's all right, you've done nothing wrong."

"Yes. Thank you very much, Gray-senpai."

Both Gray-senpai and Allen-san shielded me rather over-protectively.

Most likely they were worried I was deeply hurt.

Yet at that moment I was, to my own surprise, completely emotionless.

I'd been warned by Medical Lieutenant Gail that "the front has a lot of sexual harassment toward female soldiers," so I was prepared.

In my previous life I'd been male, so while being touched felt disgusting, I could understand it.

Rather than hate the man called Naridome, I felt pity.

"......You murderer."

"......"

His curses only felt like retribution he'd brought on himself.

No matter what resentments Naridome hurled at me, nothing resonated in my heart.

"If I'm killed I'll curse you......! I'll become a vengeful spirit and curse you for life, you murderer!"

"Idiot, killers are the most respected on the front line."

"——!!"

Even with Corporal Verdi holding him and a rifle pointed at him, he kept hurling abuse at me.

Without warning, a giant who had suddenly appeared out of the darkness grabbed his face and shut him up.

......Ah.

"So this is the idiot who disturbed my beauty sleep?"

"P-Platoon Leader——sir......"

"Ah, this is beyond hopeless."

As expected, it was Sergeant Garback.

Whether the platoon leader had woken from the ruckus or from noticing the rape attempt, he descended into the trench in a terrifyingly foul mood.

"G-Good morning, Platoon Leader——sir."

"It's the middle of the night."

"W-well, um. Then, Platoon Leader——sir, may I report the current situation?"

"No need. I heard everything."

Gray-senpai tried to make a timid report, but was silenced with a single roar.

Ah, this is bad. Those are killer's eyes. My previously emotionless heart felt a chill.

The eyes of Platoon Leader Garback just woken from sleep were a hundred times scarier than Naridome's when he'd pinned me down.

"Oi, Naridome."

"It hurts, it huuurts...... let go of my face...... plea——"

"Say your last words. Ten seconds, then I take your head."

"Eeeeek!?"

The platoon leader drew his sword without hesitation.

Ah, he's serious. In the strictly-regulated Garback platoon, doing this would definitely mean execution.

"No way, you can't be serious—what about a court-martial——"

"Those are your last words, then. I'll deliver every syllable to your family."

"Damn you, you bloodthirsty——!!"

Still holding him up with one hand, Sergeant Garback leveled his blade straight at Naridome's neck.

In moments his head would be severed. And I felt no sympathy whatsoever.

"I'll attach a note to your death notice reading 'You burdened your comrades, brought no benefit to the nation, and came to the front simply to die pointlessly.'"

"Stooop——"

Not wanting to watch a person being killed, I quietly turned my face away.

I don't believe he was evil from the start. He was probably warped by this place.

If I had met him not on this battlefield but in an ordinary daily life,

would our relationship have turned out differently...?

"P-please wait, platoon leader. In the present battle situation, wasting soldiers' lives is too costly."

"Hah?"

Yet every squad member simply watched; none tried to stop Sergeant Garback.

Then one man—driven by justice or recklessness—confronted the platoon leader.

"Corporal Verdi, did you say something?"

"Precisely, platoon leader. There's no need to kill him. The attempt ended in failure, and he was cornered."

"Don't care. Regulations are regulations; execution is proper here."

Corporal Verdi——the new superior recently transferred into the squad.

"However, when an attempted violation of military law fails, the immediate superior may commute the sentence at his discretion."

"Why should I commute it?"

"Because we're short of front-line troops. Reforming him serves the army better than killing him."

"A harmful ally is worse than the enemy."

...He calls it an attempt, but from how my clothes are disheveled I'd say a fair bit was touched.

My chest feels sticky too.

"Sergeant, you place too little value on your men's lives. This is his first offense; guide him properly."

"I won't have my back to someone who harms allies. He might shoot me from behind."

"So a man lost to lust once deserves death? If you truly mean to take his head——"

Corporal Verdi barked at Garback.

Honestly, I have no idea where he finds such courage.

Just being glared at by the foul-tempered platoon leader makes my spine freeze.

"I shall report the details to my uncle."

"......"

At those words the platoon leader stopped moving.

...Report to his uncle?

"Lord Lenvel is deeply concerned about our current shortage of forces."

"So?"

"I've heard rumors about you, platoon leader—good ones and bad."

That remark seemed to weigh heavily on Garback; he froze for an instant.

Then he released Naridome's face and turned expressionlessly toward Corporal Verdi.

"If the bad rumors—your continued disregard for your men's lives—prove true, your evaluation will have to be revised accordingly."

"Hmph. So you're my watchdog. How tiresome."

"Executing a subordinate who by the regulations deserves commutation cannot be called anything but disregard for life. Revise your judgment immediately."

Corporal Verdi's words clearly overstepped his station.

He was practically giving orders to Garback.

"...You've said your piece. You'll take full responsibility for his training, right?"

"Of course."

"Next time he screws up, you'll share the punishment. Understood, Verdi?"

"...Yes."

The sergeant's voice then was cold enough to freeze the spine.

Without another word the platoon leader returned to his tent.

"Whew, then let's begin the lecture, Naridome-kun."

In short, he had succeeded—he had stopped that Captain Garback.

"My uncle is Lenvel, commander of this front."

The morning after that spine-chilling incident,

we learned Corporal Verdi's background and why Captain Garback had backed down.

"Sergeant Garback's achievements are outstanding, yet dark rumors say he uses up his men."

"Uh, ah, well..."

"But no soldier in a position to confirm the truth could be found, so I was asked to investigate."

Corporal Verdi had just graduated from the military academy and was assigned to the front this month.

By timing of transfer, he was effectively my classmate.

"In half a year I'll outrank Captain Garback. He can't afford to push me."

His front-line duty was only a step toward becoming a staff officer.

After six months here he'll be promoted and serve as a commander.

"If Sergeant Garback gives any clearly improper orders or punishments, consult me. I can impose appropriate penalties."

"...That would be helpful."

"Naridome-kun, stay with me for a while. I'll give you proper guidance today."

Watching Verdi boast, the seniors wore indescribable expressions.

Honestly, I felt the same.

Could this unreliable youth really control that fearsome Sergeant Garback?

Absolutely impossible.

"Ah—Corporal? Well, take it easy, okay?"

"...? What do you mean?"

The captain had only retreated at the time; I feared an unimaginable retaliation would strike him.

If Naridome repeats his mistake, Verdi will be executed alongside him without hesitation.

"Touri, please forgive him too. It's a bomb every man carries."

"...Um, right."

"We're comrades now—family. Don't shun him; keep close and support him."

Unaware of the seniors' gaze, Verdi beamed as he lectured me.

Were those words to the victim of attempted rape?

...I never planned to get close to anyone, Naridome included.

"Then let's head to the briefing. We mustn't be late."

At first I thought Verdi was normal,

but I realized he too had a few quirks.

"Gray-senpai, sorry for kicking you yesterday. And thank you for helping."

"Hm? No problem. More importantly, were you scared?"

Later,

"No, I wasn't. Your voice gave me strength."

"O-oh really? ...Mm. Could this mean Touri-chan is asking me out——"

"If this keeps up, even Corporal Verdi won't be able to protect you. Take care."

"O-kay."

I made sure to thank Gray-senpai properly.

I don't intend to grow close, but courtesy matters.

After the briefing, Captain Garback ordered me back to the field hospital.

That morning the captain was in a foul mood, glaring as if ready to shoot Verdi and Naridome.

"Another large-scale offensive has begun on the southern front."

"......"

At the field hospital I was greeted by an overwhelming flood of patients spilling from the wards.

No major battle had occurred nearby yesterday; these were transports from the south.

"Sorry to rush you, Touri-chan. Rounds have started—head to Ward D."

"Yes, understood."

The hundred-kilometer front is divided into Northern, Southern, and Central Armies.

The medical unit has set up field hospitals behind each army's rear.

Therefore, casualties from the Southern Army should normally be treated by the southern medical unit, but......

"We're stretched thin ourselves...... but the south sounds even worse."

The Central Medical Command I belong to is the largest in scale.

So when the south or north produce more casualties than they can handle, they're sent here.

"Lately, it feels like the enemy's offensive is getting stronger. ......Touri-chan, please be extra careful, all right?"

"Yes, thank you very much."

A large-scale offensive was launched last night on the southern front, and there were many fatalities.

As a result, our forces suffered heavy losses and were pushed back several dozen meters along the front.

"Touri-chan, try to stay alive just a little longer, okay?"

"......? Yes, I'll do my best."

A war of position where countless human lives are staked as chips that never end.

Why can soldiers treat human life so lightly?

To gain a mere twenty steps, a thousand are sacrificed—no sane person would do this.

"Well then, excuse me. Medical Lieutenant Gail."

"Yes, just a little longer now."

While thinking such things, I steeled myself to save as many of the patients before me as I could—at that moment.

A cursed, ominous voice reached me from behind.

"Just a little more and that devil's wicked deeds will be exposed......"

"......Eh?"

The strange words made me turn around reflexively, but Gail-san only wore a bright smile.

Overwhelmed by that unquestioning smile, I couldn't ask anything and headed to my station.

"......Well, that's how it is."

The field hospital has a surprisingly high number of women for a battlefield.

The medics are half-and-half, and among the nurses women are the majority.

"Ugh, the worst."

"Well, it figures. Those front-line guys only see us women as prey."

So during my free time I consulted the senior women medics and nurses.

The topic, of course, was how to deal with sexual harassment from the unit's men.

"If it's just groping I can endure it, but I draw the line at being killed. Last night I almost died."

"Honestly, I can't stand being touched either. Those front-line guys reek."

"Ugh, gross."

"Can't something be done?"

The senior women responded to my story of last night with less surprise than a knowing "Yeah, that happens."

They've probably had plenty of similar experiences themselves.

"Right, you should get a boyfriend in the squad, a high-ranking one if possible."

"......A boyfriend?"

"Why not try to sweet-talk the platoon leader? If you're the superior's girl, even they'll hesitate."

"Ugh, I don't want a lover who's an assault trooper. They die so fast."

"Exactly, so no lingering ties."

"......"

......That makes some sense, but I still feel resistance to getting a boyfriend.

My previous life's gender makes it hard to see men that way.

If I made Captain Garback my boyfriend? Probably no one would dare touch me.

But imagining that violent man as a lover is impossible. Too scary—no way.

Corporal Verdi...... doesn't seem violent, but he's a bit, well......

"Besides, even if you get a boyfriend, won't the broken newbies just ignore it and attack anyway?"

"Yeah, they might assault you in desperation. Why not ask the brass to keep them away?"

"Or, though it's a bit of a walk, maybe have Touri-chan sleep at the field hospital?"

"That would depend on whether the platoon leader allows it."

Sleeping at the field hospital is absolutely out of the question.

In a sudden defensive battle, who knows how long it would take to reach my post from the hospital?

"Besides, the hospital beds aren't totally safe either. I've been assaulted by a patient while I slept."

"......Eh?"

"Getting groped during exams is everyday stuff. They'll rest a hand on my chest so obviously it's pathetic."

"We let it slide since they're dying anyway...... but it doesn't feel good."

It seems the seniors are completely used to sexual harassment from soldiers.

Oddly, I haven't experienced anything that extreme yet.

"Well, at your age, Touri-chan, only guys with a fetish would make a move."

"You're cute, but your build doesn't exactly scream sex appeal."

"The type guys want as a daughter or little sister. So obedient."

"U-uh, okay......"

......So the reason I've had so little harassment is because my looks are working in my favor.

I'm already the minimum enlistment age of fifteen, and I've always looked younger than my age.

Some might mistake me for a well-developed grade-schooler; even soldiers hesitate.

But if my body matures in a few years, will I start getting harassed too?

"Anyway, watch out for the lolicon who attacked you. Guys like that always repeat it."

"For now, sleep next to someone who can protect you."

"Understood."

Someone who can protect me.

......A slightly flashy Gray-senpai or the calm veteran Allen-senpai came to mind.

From now on I'll ask one of them to let me sleep beside them.

"Well, don't worry. Worst case, if you get pregnant the military will transfer you to the rear before the last month."

"......"

"So if it comes to it, going limp is an option."

Come to think of it, pregnant female soldiers are transferred to the rear.

The nation's population is declining, so pregnant women are treated as precious.

"Has that actually happened before?"

"Yes. Though she miscarried from overwork in the medical corps and killed herself from the shock."

"......"

Well, with these brutal working conditions miscarriage is likely.

I've heard enough unpleasant stories.

"By the way, Touri-chan, do you have a boyfriend back home?"

"Any experience?"

"Ah, no, I......"

"Those on the front get assaulted for real sooner or later. If you've no experience, better to lose it with a decent guy first."

"Within the medical unit, the head nurse is a good catch—his family is super rich!"

And so, without getting much useful advice, the seniors switched to girl talk.

This is the front line of war; luxuries and hobbies are rarely supplied.

Which leaves the women of the medical unit with only one kind of entertainment.

"Actually, there's a grown-up world where you can make money too...... but maybe you're a bit young, Touri-chan?"

"Don't invite her to that. How old do you think this girl is?"

"......"

And so I learned the rumor Gray-senpai mentioned—about medics prostituting themselves—was apparently true.

This person is probably doing it.

"If you're interested, I can introduce you to someone safe."

I had gone to the wrong people for advice.

I truly thought so.

That evening, around dusk.

"Flash report! Enemy offensive on the front! All personnel, assume alert status!"

"......"

At the field hospital, the alarm roared.

Perhaps it's what one would call a relentless offensive, it seems the enemy nation launched another attack today.

"Again!? We don't have any beds left!"

Medical Lieutenant Gail screamed.

Lately the offensives have been far too frequent.

Could the enemy have lost patience and be planning to surge forward all at once?

"Private Second Class Touri the medic! Captain Garback says to return to the unit!"

"Yes, understood."

With the battle now defensive, I've been summoned from the front lines.

Before, Gail handled the negotiations, so when I worked at the hospital I didn't have to sortie—apparently that's no longer the case.

"Touri-chan, don't rush—check your gear thoroughly before you sortie. Either way, the bombardment will last several hours."

"Understood, Medical Lieutenant Gail."

Already, the rumble of explosions could be heard from the distant front.

I'm not sure whether it's a blessing or not, but there's plenty of time until this bombardment ends.

From the field hospital to the front lines, there's more than enough leeway for someone like me to dash over.

"......"

The enemy's offensive is steadily intensifying.

Perhaps the enemy is growing desperate.

They may be pushing recklessly to bring this never-ending war to a close.

If that's so, it could mean that soon the front will be moved to a tidy spot and a cease-fire declared.