Chapter 30

Wizard Corps Installation 17B, Niigata Prefecture, Japan

Sunday, January 15th, 2051

Despite it all, I look back fondly on that Christmas Eve camping trip. It was the right sort of roughing it, and I think it broke through our cliques better than Sergeant Lakhdar’s efforts. Even better, once the blizzard stopped and the snowplows came through, we had our run of the open parts of Nagaoka. The local government was even good enough to find some housing for us.

Our extended vacation couldn’t last, though. The mountain passes were still completely impassible for days after the blizzard, and a Chinook helicopter showed up on the twenty-seventh to bring us home.

Kiyo had been nervous at the sight of the thing. “This is gonna suck.”

“What’s the matter? I’m the one who’s supposed to be afraid to fly.”

She shook her head. “See that emblem? That bird’s from the US Remnant Navy. Dad’s with them too, and he says the Remnant doesn’t like to fly those old airframes more than they have to. Trying to save ‘em for combat operations, y’know?”

“What does that mean, then?” I asked.

“It means somebody called in favors, and if they’re doing that to bring us back to base, something’s up.”

Once we’d made our way back, we were ordered to get in our combat garb and assemble in the courtyard. What turned out to be ‘up’ was that the Wizard Corps had grown tired of our lack of progress, and the lost days had irked them even further. They had declared that we were good enough wizards for basic purposes, and it was time to turn us into proper soldiers. Full combat and tactical training was to begin immediately.

“It makes some sense,” Sergeant Lakhdar had said when she read us the orders. “You are all better off specializing to an extent. Spells can be complicated to cast in the heat of battle; you’re better off being able to rattle off ten in your sleep than knowing one hundred decently.”

“What?” said Gabriella, who had positioned herself on my left. Not loud enough for the Sergeant to hear; she’d learned her lesson there. “Then why spend all that time on those hammer and anvil spells?”

“Get used to inconsistent orders,” I whispered back. “‘Ours is not to question why’ and all that.”

Gabriella gave me a confused side-eye. “Huh?”

“No appreciation for the classics,” I muttered.

“Oh, I recognize it,” she said. “I just remember how things ended for the Light Brigade. No thank you!”

“I love that poem,” muttered Hiro, who stood on my right.

He would.

Over the next few weeks, we ended up trading in our spell books for tactical manuals and switching from solo combat drills to more esoteric challenges.

For example, destroying a floating Svalinn’s Mercy with a Magic Orb while another cadet tried to stop you. Clearing a space in the icy forest large enough to land a supply helicopter without using fire magic.

The most annoying was sneaking past Mr. Lahlou without using any magic, and no dinner until you pulled it off. That one was tricky; a murder of crows had flown in to pick over the frozen courtyard, and their calls and flapping wings kept giving us away.

Whatever the challenge, the Gauntlet turned out to be good practice, since we spent most of our time scrambling through the snow-covered hills around the base. I ended up using Hessenblut on myself more than a few times, since the alternatives would give away my position when I had to be stealthy. I eventually confessed to the Sergeant that I knew the spell so I could stop ducking behind trees to cast it. Thankfully, Mariko had spun up a convincing explanation back in Iceland.

“Your mimic copies devil magic permanently?” She sounded skeptical.

“I try to minimize how often I use it,” I said. “And I’ve spared the others, since the side effects can be nasty.”

“That’s putting it mildly!” she scoffed. “You know St. Bernard’s Charm does the same thing, don’t you?”

“Ah, no, I can’t say I do,” I said. “Somebody cut short the magical lessons.”

“Yes, somebody,” she muttered. “Well, see if you can scrape together a few minutes here and there to learn it. We don’t want anybody getting the wrong idea about you. Besides, who knows what that demonic residuum buildup might do to your body?”

“A tad late for that!”

I earned myself a few laps for my sass, which was a reminder I was getting bit too comfortable with my drill sergeant.

Some aspects of the training stayed consistent, though. We still changed dancing partners frequently, and I was actually starting to remember a few of the new names and faces.

However, these lessons were still focused on us as individuals. It was making us fine warriors, but warriors rarely win modern wars; soldiers do. So, it was no surprise to me that after a few weeks of our new training regime, we were summoned to the dining hall and informed that we were to be assigned to training squads.

“These will be your final assignments for the duration of your training,” said Sergeant Lakhdar. “Get used to spending most of your waking hours together.”

“Oh my,” muttered Mariko, taking a step closer my way, as if our closeness would force the sergeant to put us on the same team.

“In a standard wizard squad, there are three basic jobs,” said the Sergeant as she drew Japanese symbols on a chalk board, with arrows showing directions of movement. “There is a shooter, who uses fabricata weapons and long-range spells to cover the group at a distance. They also provide recon and spotting for the rest. Then, there are the casters, who are the core of the group. They keep both hands free so they can quickly cast whatever spells are needed to respond to enemy action. Since magic support is so key, most squads will usually have two or more. Finally, there’s the duelist. Duelists cast spells and use their affinities too, of course, but their focus is on intercepting threats at melee range with a sword or spear.”

She turned, her sharp eyes boring into us in turn. “Having seen your school records and watched your performance for the past month, I have a good idea of who is best suited to what.” She nodded Kiyo’s way. “We have top tier sharpshooters.” Mariko was acknowledged next. “There are also those of you who have focused on medical and defensive magic. Then,” she continued, turning Hiro’s way, “some of you have a natural aptitude for melee fighting.” She looked at me last of all. “Then some of you are flexible and can fit whatever role you’re assigned with aplomb. That’s why you four are a natural team.”

I nodded, feeling a sense of relief that I’d be working with the old crew again. We’d conquered the Holy Brotherhood twice, so she had all the more reason not to break up the band. It seemed that Yukiko was to be left out, but she was naturally bossy. She’d whip anybody she was teamed up with into shape.

I’d forgotten who I was dealing with, though. A playful smirk played across her lips, and my stomach sank before she even started talking. “However, the ideal situation rarely exists. What if your duelist breaks his arm, or your caster runs out of magic just as another enemy wave shows up? I know what you’re all good at. To test your flexibility, you are going to start with the worst team compositions we can imagine.”

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“Shit.” At least Kiyo and Gabriella could agree on something.

**************

Within the hour, we were back in the hills surrounding the base. As far as I was concerned, it was too frigid for man or beast out there. The only wildlife I spied was a crow who seemed awfully interested in us. Probably hoping we’d drop dead from exposure so it could pick at our corpses.

“No, not that way!” snapped Kiyo. “You’re going to jam Bernadette loading her like that.”

“Bernadette?” I looked up from the shiny, new sniper rifle Kiyo had reluctantly surrendered to me. “Where did that name come from?”

“Because she looks like a Bernadette,” she replied.

I looked into her dark eyes, finding no hint of humor in them. Just another one of Kiyo’s whims. “Then how do I load her?”

“Let me show you again,” she said, snatching the rifle from my grip. The way Kiyo worked the bolt action loader was a thing of beauty, without a wasted movement.

In fact, it was a bit too perfect, since it took me two more demonstrations to understand what she was doing. Geniuses make the worst teachers. In the end, though, the safety round was ready to fire.

“God, we’re doomed if you need to reload when the spells start flying,” she said. “Why are you so useless?”

“Excuse me for struggling with an unfamiliar weapon,” I replied.

“Unfamiliar?” she said, sounding exasperated. “What about all that target practice we did back at the school?”

“Bernadette is a different sort of lady than Lucille was,” I protested.

“Yeah, well, we lost Lucille in the Tower,” she said, just loud enough to hear.

“There is no need to fight. I am sure Kasasagi will do his job,” said Mariko, looking down at her training sword like it was a snake liable to bite her. “At least you know which way to point your weapon.”

“Usually the sharp end goes towards the enemy,” said Hiro, his chuckle failing to cover up his own nerves. If anything, he looked more anxious than Mariko. “I am sorry to let you all down.”

“Let’s not surrender before a shot is fired!” I snapped.

“He’s got a point, Soren,” said Kiyo. “We’re all kinda specialists, and the sarge gave us the worst assignments she could.”

“It does seem a little unfair,” said Mariko.

“No kidding!” said Kiyo. “I don’t know what Hiroto’s deal is, but Yukiko and Gabriella are good with a sword, and Kowalski’s got Buddy. Maybe we should switch weapons? How would they know?”

“I’m sure the Sergeant and Mr. Lahlou have some way of keeping tabs on us. Still, we can put in a token effort. You’re a caster, Hiro, but if they get past Mariko—”

“When they get past me,” said Mariko dejectedly.

“If,” I said, trying to sound reassuring. “Anyhow, if they get past her, you’re within your rights to activate Immortal Form and pound them into mush.”

“If they are watching, I need to cast some spells,” he said. “My reserves are poor. I need to be careful or I will faint.”

“I’ll pick up your slack, man,” said Kiyo, extending her fist towards him. “I’m, like, way better off than you.”

“That is true.” Hiro exchanged a quick fist bump with his childhood friend, a thin smile crossing his face as he scanned the clearing. “No sign of them. Magpie, do you see anything with Mimic Sight?”

I closed my eyes and the whole forest vanished. It didn’t take long to find our opponents. “They’re moving up as a bunch,” I said.

“Do we close in?” asked Hiro. “Maybe split up and flank them?”

“You and your pincer maneuvers,” I said.

“They usually work,” he retorted.

“We’re better off staying on defense,” I said. I didn’t want to try and keep this group coordinated on the attack, especially since we’d been forbidden from using radios.

It was realistic, the way the Horde loved their tech jamming fabricata, though I wondered why we hadn’t been issued magic-based communicators. Maggie had handed them out to the Holy Brothers during the Tower Attack. Were they rare, or did the Corps deem them unnecessary for our training squad?

A concern for later. I had a game to win, because I’d be damned if I let a little handicap best me. The sergeant had stacked the deck against us, and I was convinced it was some sort of lingering punishment for me or Mariko.

The rules were straightforward. We would win as long as they didn’t capture our team’s flag within a half hour. The blue banner hung limp in the still air on a flagpole in the dead center of a clearing surrounded by hills. The target was completely exposed, but the surrounding terrain was thick with tree and brush.

The only restrictions were that we had to use non-damaging Proxy Spells and gimmicked safety weapons, although we were wearing our protective uniforms in case anybody ‘forgot’ to neuter their combat spells. They hadn’t issued any equipment to track hits on us, like the skintight suits we’d used back at the academy, so we were on the honor system to acknowledge kill shots and damage to our defensive spells. We also couldn’t remove the flag from its spot, which had eliminated the obvious strategy of telling Kiyo to vanish with it.

Of course, I had no such illusions we could pull off an attack when we switched roles and went after their red flag, but I wasn’t going to let it be a complete massacre.

“We do not have the high ground,” said Mariko. “Is that important?”

“Depends,” said Kiyo. “Do you want to end up like your orcs in that game?”

“Ara!”

“That’s oversimplifying it,” I said. “That was more a lack of cover than being on the low ground. Speaking of, we shouldn’t tarry out here in the open. I should have a clear view of the whole field from that stand of trees over there. Perhaps you three should find a hiding spot where you can keep an eye on the flagpole? Not too close to the tree line, though; they’ll have their own sniper.”

Hiro nodded, leading the two ladies into the bushes to devise whatever strategy they liked. Before they finished climbing the hill, Hiro spun around. “Oh no! The tracks.”

“Hm. No way to cover them in time,” I said. To minimize the damage, I followed in their footsteps and took the long way around to the other end of the clearing.

A quick scan with Mimic Sight told me we had about five minutes before Yukiko’s squad was upon us. They had split up, with a pair of them heading straight towards the flagpole, with another pair moving in the general direction of my teammates. I couldn’t be entirely sure who was who, but I had some hints. Kowalski had a strange, double signature due to Buddy, and I thought he was with Yukiko, if I recognized her small frame.

I chuckled as I realized that he was carrying her through a deep patch of snow. Knowing the two of them, that must have been an awkward conversation. Hopefully they’d be off balance up until the moment my team could spring the ambush.

The chuckling stopped when the implications dawned on me. It was no coincidence that they were heading straight towards Hiro and the rest. With Buddy in play, nearly anything was possible. The shadowy golem had shown a great talent for growing extra eyes and tentacles during my Icelandic adventures. He could probably see the forest as well as I could. I’d told Yukiko all about it, and she wasn’t going to pull punches. The girl played to win.

As much as I lacked skill with shooting, there was some logic in training me for the role. Mimic Sight let me keep tabs on the enemy, making me the perfect spotter. My teammates didn’t have long to prepare, and if those two got the drop on them, the fight would be measured in seconds.

Blast it all, I had no way to tell them!

Or, did I? I glanced up at the crow, who had followed me towards my hiding spot in the brush beneath a pine tree. The Horde had spells that could dominate the minds of carrier pigeons, forcing them to fly exactly where they were told. I’d never had a chance to try it on other species, but a crow and pigeon’s brains couldn’t be that different, could they?

Of course, I didn’t understand just how clever crows could be, since I hadn’t grown up drowning in videos of them solving simple puzzles and the like. However, the comparison made sense at the time.

They’d issued us some field rations to help us deal with the biting cold. I pulled a packet of potato chips out of my pocket and tossed one well out of arm’s reach.

The bird swooped down and took the bait. “Spectral Web!” The one-handed utility spell proved its worth again, wrapping the struggling crow in a luminescent, blue net.

Leaving Bernadette behind, I scrambled over on all fours before the foolish animal could hurt itself. “Vugelsluv!”

Demonic runes crashed on themselves, and the crow went completely still as Bird Domination turned off its higher brain functions. There was a strange sparkle in its eyes as the spell took effect, a green glint that flashed across the bird’s black iris so quickly that I wondered if I was seeing things.

I removed the bird from its bindings in a flash, using a dagger I’d stored in a sheath beneath my pantleg. It was like holding a feathery statue as it waited for my instructions.

“Vugelspek!” Thank the Dark Lord I remembered that spell; I hadn’t cast it since the Spanish campaign, and I didn’t have time to write up a note.

As more magical dust filled the air, I had a sobering thought: did demonic residuum have negative effects on animals?

Oh, well; it was a damn bird, just like the chicken we’d had for dinner the night before. “Don’t go completely soft, Malthus.”

Bird Speech was much more complex, as it would make the bird repeat back whatever it was told. As memory served, it wasn’t using the bird’s own throat, but instead storing the message as a sort of magical bubble in its throat that would produce the voice until it lost its potency.

It shivered and I cursed aloud as I realized that I might have just wasted my recording. “Say your message.”

“Don’t go completely soft, Malthus. Damn the Enemy’s eyes!” It was a perfect recording, unfortunately, including the last of it. “Don’t go completely soft, Malthus. Damn the Enemy’s eyes!”

“Cancel that message,” I grumbled. I twisted my fingers back into the casting position. “Vugelspek!”

Once the message was reset, I spoke carefully. “Yukiko and Kowalski are coming right at you!” The bird shivered again, telling me the revised message was set. I pointed where Mimic Sight revealed my teammates grouped up. “Fly over there until you find three humans and say the message once. Then, when two more humans show up, fly behind them and repeat it until you can’t anymore.”

The bird nodded once and took flight.

Well, that was a relief. I’d have to explain the magic later, but everyone who would be in earshot had some inkling that I was a demonkin or worse.

However, that meant that I was looking to face two opponents by myself. And me without a wave of orcs to send to slow them down…