Do Your Own Revolution

#065

“What are you saying? The Colonel… What happened?”

At the Westraine Republic Army base.

In response to the trembling voice, an Armored Infantry soldier who returned from the battlefield held out something.

“I’m sorry… I’m sorry…! All I could bring back were the Battalion Commander’s belongings…!”

“Ah, aah…!”

A half-melted red armor plate and the dog tags that had hung around his neck.

When she saw Klaus’s name engraved on them, Elena, who had been his adjutant, received them with trembling hands.

“No… No…! This can’t be…!”

Her superior, Colonel Klaus Medvedev, was not supposed to die like this.

‘The current Westraine is wrong. The remnants from before the revolution are running rampant in this country built by revolution. I want to change such a republic.’

A man who would reform the republic wielding absolute power and save the suffering and exploited people.

He was supposed to be the one who would eliminate the former nobles sitting in the central party’s high seats and the pigs who colluded with them, creating a true republic…!

‘So Elena, will you follow me?’

She remembered the Colonel asking her that while looking at her.

That hand that held hers and begged her to come along.

That smile that only she had seen from a man who seemed as firm as steel.

Tears flowed down her face as she gritted her teeth.

Sadness, anger, resentment.

Her face, mixed with all of those emotions, had become something that could no longer be called human.

“I’ll kill…!”

She recalled the contents of the battle report.

The imperial dog who stole the Colonel’s future and her own future.

She remembered that detestable name that crushed the hero who would save the republic before he could even bloom his potential.

“Eugene… Lorentz…!”

Blood seeped from her hand that tightly gripped the dog tags.

The other battalion members who received the report of the Colonel’s death probably felt the same way as her.

***

“…What.”

An unfamiliar ceiling.

No, not an unfamiliar ceiling.

Looking carefully, it’s our unit’s barracks tent. Why has my vision become so blurry?

I got up from my spot feeling a debilitating exhaustion that made my whole body feel like it would break apart.

I had laid down to catch a quick nap after returning, but it seems I fell asleep.

What time is it now? How long did I sleep?

“Eugene. You were asleep for two days.”

The one who said that was Irene, who was watching me from the side of the bed.

“…Two days?”

“Yes. Two days.”

My mind went blank.

With work piled up like a mountain starting from the battle achievement report, did I sleep for two straight days in the meantime?

Ah, this stupid body of mine.

It seems the recoil from using the magic bullet hit me quite hard.

It wasn’t this bad when I was fighting with Claude.

Is it a condition issue?

“You’re pushing yourself too hard, Eugene. I don’t like it when Eugene is having a hard time.”

“I have to push through even if it’s hard. I don’t even have time to rest like this…”

I thought I’d be fine after sleeping for a day, but I unexpectedly wasted time.

I need to manage the wounded, check the supply system, and select new non-commissioned officers.

Just as I was saying that and trying to get up.

Irene, with a pouty expression, pressed down on both my shoulders.

“Irene? What are you doing?”

“Don’t get up. You’re still hurt.”

“No, I mean, this isn’t the time to…”

What the hell.

I tried to use my strength to get up several times, but Irene’s hands holding me down didn’t budge at all.

This is strange? I’m definitely a trained soldier, right?

I can’t overpower her with strength? Really?

“…Why are you suddenly acting like this?”

Finally submitting to Irene’s strength, I relaxed my body and asked.

“We haven’t had time to meet like this lately. I’m bored.”

“Aah…”

Good for you. Having time to be bored.

I’m dying from being so busy.

Thinking that, I patted Irene’s head.

“Alright. I’ll rest a bit.”

“Hehe!”

Since I’m caught anyway, might as well catch my breath for a moment.

Irene must know my position too, so she’ll probably let me go after we stay stuck together like this for a while.

Thinking that, I asked Irene.

“Come to think of it, where’s Rennie? Wasn’t she with you?”

“Your friend called her, so she’s working over the~re. Something about imprint… extraction? Exchange? Something like that.”

Hearing Irene’s words, I smiled with satisfaction.

‘Indeed, it was good to bring her.’

The ‘magic bullet’ used by the Revolutionary Army and Special Magical Power Unit is something that forcibly injects magical power into imprints by exploding containers filled with magical power.

And the biggest drawback of such magic bullets is that they overload the magic imprint.

Due to the principle of flowing more than the standard amount of magical power in a short time, excessive use could break the imprint.

‘Although it’s still in the initial stages, we’ve got the basics set up.’

The corrupted seven stroke magic imprint of Elcidore that becomes the original for the Special Unit’s magic imprint.

And the refined monster cores being procured from various directions under Keiren’s leadership.

Finally, imprint specialists not affiliated with noble houses like Otto and Rennie.

As a result of gathering all of those, the Special Magical Power Unit was operating as I had initially thought.

Standardization of magic imprints, specification, and mass production.

Maintaining combat power by extracting magic imprints overloaded by magic bullets and replacing them with new ones.

And finally, completing an army of tens of thousands of mages.

“Ah right. But there’s something strange.”

“Something strange?”

While I was thinking about that, Irene, who was lying with her head on my lap, spoke up.

“Some soldier uncles are lurking around Rennie. But those people don’t seem like soldier uncles.”

“They’re soldiers but don’t seem like soldiers?”

Is this what they mean when they say you’ll go crazy if you talk with kids for more than three sentences?

While absently responding, Irene nodded and told me.

“They smell different from the soldier uncles I usually meet. They probably taste different too.”

You distinguish people by smell and taste rather than faces?

You’re scary, Irene.

That thought lasted only a moment before I started interpreting Irene’s words in my own way.

‘A different smell and taste from imperial soldiers… In other words, they’re of a different race?’

Thinking about it that way, the situation Irene was talking about made sense immediately.

Someone who isn’t imperial is targeting Rennie’s life.

After interpreting it, I said to Irene.

“Then. Can you catch those differently smelling uncles next time you meet them?”

“Catch them? Can’t I eat them?”

“No.”

When I said that, Irene thought for a moment before nodding with a bright expression.

“Okay!”

What a good kid.

From her brief hesitation, it seemed she was thinking of taking a bite before bringing them, but that’s fine.

As long as they don’t die. As long as they don’t die.

“Eugene. You’re up now? How are you…!”

While I was saying that, Erich appeared, lifting the tent flap.

“Uh…”

Me sitting on the bed, and Irene lying with her head on my lap.

Looking at that scene, Erich asked me with a blank expression.

“Having a good time? Should I come back later?”

“Do I have a gun? Should I shoot?”

When I said that, Erich looked at me with a mischievous expression and giggled.

This guy’s jokes are getting worse as time goes by. And in a bad quality direction too.

Did he learn it from the trio?

They say you become like those you hang out with, indeed the friends he’s hanging out with are the problem.

“So, did anything happen while I was sleeping?”

However, that was brief.

When I asked that with a changed expression, Erich looked at me with a strange expression and opened his mouth.

“There was. Should I call it good news or bad news.”

“What is it?”

“Major General Beckier is calling for you. Said to come to his tent as soon as you wake up.”

The division commander directly? What’s this about? Does he want to hear the battle achievement report in person?

While I was thinking that, Erich spoke after a brief pause.

“Eugene. They say you’ve become a battalion commander.”

…Wait. What did you say?

***

“Even from my position having received the direct report… Well, it’s an incomprehensible situation.”

This was the inside story of the incident Major General Beckier spoke of.

The annihilation of the Armored Infantry battalion, the killing of Lieutenant Colonel Klaus, known as the Republic’s Red Bear.

As victory reports came in succession from other units including the Special Magical Power Unit, the command post, experiencing their first taste of victory, fell into a frenzy of madness.

‘We won! We’ve won-!’

‘We don’t need the Knight Order, Major General! We can drive out Westraine with just the imperial army!’

It was fine to be happy.

But what came next was the problem.

‘This is not the time! We must ride this momentum and sweep away all of Westraine’s positions!’

‘Their airship fleet is damaged too, so they won’t be able to move out right away!’

‘Major General! Please give permission to advance…!’

The operations officers, intoxicated with victory, insisted on immediately launching the next offensive.

The fact that the Red Bear was dead and the overwhelming power of the Special Magical Power Unit.

They must have thought that if they pushed forward with this momentum, they could push back the entire front line.

‘Absolutely not.’

However, the one who blocked them was Second Lieutenant Guille, the leader of the officer trio.

‘The soldiers’ magic imprints are overloaded, and their magical power is depleted. There are also considerable casualties, making it absolutely impossible to participate in combat.’

‘Magical power depletion? The knights fight well for days on end…’

‘That’s because their magical power is that strong and stable.’

And also because they sacrificed the lives of imperial army soldiers instead, Matt added from the side, making some commanders understand.

‘Indeed, that’s true.’

The Special Unit’s magic imprints have a shorter history and lower precision compared to theirs.

While they can exert explosive power through the shortcut of magic bullets, there’s a price to pay for that.

Even I, with a five stroke imprint, had to lie sick for two days due to the after-effects of using magic bullets.

If even he, a trained mage, is in this state, what would be the extent of the recoil for regular members whose magic circuits aren’t even properly developed when they exerted power rivaling knights for a moment?

Moreover, some idiots excessively used magic bullets since it was their first battle, making the situation even more serious.

‘The Special Unit absolutely will not move until the soldiers recover. This is also Company Commander Second Lieutenant Eugene Lorentz’s directive.’

‘Hmm…’

Hearing those words, the operations officers seemed to understand to some extent.

They probably thought it was better to believe what a mage was saying.

‘So in exchange for explosive power in an instant, 24-hour continuous operation is impossible.’

‘Then the Special Unit would be the most vulnerable part of the imperial army for several days. Maybe it would be better to establish defensive measures during this period?’

Moreover, since field commanders who fought alongside the Special Unit and some operations officers made such judgments, it was a very good situation.

Because the Special Magical Power Unit shouldn’t reign over the imperial army, but should cooperate as a member of the imperial army.

However, the problem erupted from the reserve forces stationed in the rear.

While the front-line units were in a party mood with rewards, medals, promotions, and celebrations, the reserve forces waiting in the rear weren’t included.

Among them, the worst was our battalion commander, Wenkis, who had our company under his command.

‘I heard you’re Lieutenant General Keiren’s son-in-law? Looking forward to working with you!’

‘I anticipated this and pulled some strings in advance. I advised them to station you and your unit safely in the rear…’

This man who moved all his subordinate companies to the rear because he didn’t want to die, and even tried to move me and the Special Unit to the rear.

Of course, I told him to fuck off and went to the front, achieving the feat of taking down the Red Bear.

He should have been content with getting the leftovers since it was an achievement by his subordinate company… but the problem was that this man wasn’t satisfied with that.

He must have thought he should go to the battlefield himself and crush Westraine.

In the end, this bastard led all his subordinate companies in the middle of the night and launched a surprise attack bypassing the Republic army’s position.

Report? He didn’t make one.

Why? Because he’s from a noble family, while Major General Beckier isn’t from a noble background.

This is complete bullshit.

“So, that Battalion Commander Wenkis…”

As I trailed off, Major General Beckier shook his head with a sigh.

Shit.

The imperial army had its own Renya Mutaguchi.

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