Chapter 6: Attack Infantry One
It was a sunny day in the jungle around Wyst Fylola. The birds are singing their songs high above the trees. The streams around the forbidden forest are playing their melody to nature’s animals. The elves were up to their natural lifestyles in their tree houses, albeit with caution since the news of a new human raid was still on their mind.
Around the same time however, Hasegawa is currently in the midst of training his batch of soldiers. Using some basic scribbles and doodles on paper that he made as an illustration of the new method that he is teaching.
“This technique of fighting is known as volley fire!” He points at one of the drawings with a stick, making a circling motion. The elf soldiers that were made to sit in front of him looked at the drawing with interest.
“It uses one or more rows of riflemen to provide a steady rate of fire.” He picks up the gun that he and Erlen made, opening the lock at the breech of the gun, he slides the covering of the chamber open and loads a cartridge.
“The average reloading process should normally take about three to five seconds, depending on the user.” He said as he closes the chamber, aiming the gun towards a target and firing it
‘Hehe.’
“However, in that span of three to five seconds, the rifleman is extremely vulnerable. That’s when the line of comrades behind you fire, giving you time to reload.” Another shot rings out, the soldiers where it came from, finally spotting Myr holding another gun with smoke still coming from the barrel.
“That’s the basic premise of volley fire.” Hasegawa finishes the lecture. Placing the weapon down, he strolls over to a cart filled with more guns. The final product of the alchemists and metal workers given to him by the council, the otherworld rifle mark 1, or the OR-1.
“Everyone! Line up to get one!” He orders.
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“What is Father doing lately?” Myr asks her uncle Gaspar while the two of them were walking up to the chief’s recovery room.
“Well he’s doing fine, stull sulking I suppose.” He sweats. The village right now is preparing, a ditch is being dug around the village’s perimeter by a handful of soldiers, while the others are sharpening stakes.
“I see…”
“Myr. Why do you stand around with that human?” Her uncle asks her, his voice straight and stoic.
“He just seems interesting; it’s been a long time since I’ve seen a human. Let alone a nice one.”
“There is no such thing as a nice human.” Gaspar tells his niece, Myr simply shakes her head at that.
“Uncle, Hasegawa isn’t a bad person. If he was, he would’ve killed us by now.”
“Maybe the human is just biding for the right time.”
“Maybe not?” She told him.
“I’ll judge him during the battle, that’s when the true character of a person comes out.” They arrive at where Strynhld’s staying, Gaspar pats Myr on the head.
“Go in. He’s waiting for you.”
“Thank you, uncle.” Myr opens the door and enters. Strynhld is sitting on a chair on the balcony. His foot no longer bandaged.
“…”
“Father.”
“I see you have visited Myr.” He turns the chair around, bags under his eyes are clearly defined.
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“I thought the village healers told you to rest.”
“They did, but my mind and body just wouldn’t follow.” Strynhld stands up putting his weight on the uninjured foot.
“They managed to patch up the wound, but that doesn’t erase the pain.” He continues.
“Well at least you aren’t dead.” She jokingly tells him.
“I see you haven’t let go of that joking personality.” He shuffles towards his daughter.
“Like your… mother.” He sighs.
“I know.” Myr said.
“Come here.” He gestures her to come closer. She follows, walking towards him.
He hugs her.
“I hurt you.”
“It’s fine father.” She tells him, hugging him back.
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“Ready!” Hasegawa shouts. The thirty elves grip their OR-1s tightly.
“Aim!” The first line consisting of ten men point their gun at the targets, the sights lining up towards the bullseye.
“Fire!” Hasegawa swings his arm down signaling the attack. The first row fires their volley hitting the targets. Bending on one knee, they crouch while reloading. The row behind them moves forward aiming their guns.
“Fire!” Again, another volley of shots fire, the guns still smoking as they crouch and reload again.
“Fire!” The third row moves forward, repeating the movements, sending another hail of metal towards their intended targets.
“Enough!” The fire drill stops, the targets were ripped to utter shreds, with the bullets embedded in the trees behind the targets.
The elves cheered; they had never seen such rapid destruction before.
“That was amazing!”
“Whooo!”
“Let’s go!”
‘The more I think about it, the more that the elves seem to like dominating in fights.’ Hasegawa internally told himself.
‘They seem more warlike than what I expected. Those manga that I read lied to me.’
“Everybody! Let’s take a break.” The elven soldiers scattered around at that. Some standing idly about while others went to their families.
Hasegawa walks towards Erlen standing in a transmutation circle. At the center is a container full of gunpowder
“How is the new concoction?” He asks Erlen.
“It’s coming fine. There’s not as much smoke as you requested.” Erlen told him.
“Move back Hasegawa.” Erlen pushes his glasses back up. His aura glowing for a bit.
“The inner truth! Kambyo Objectalis!” The gunpowder glows brightly, levitating before it settles back down again.
“Here, check it.” Erlen lights up a torch, handing it over to Hasegawa who gingerly receives the flaming hot stick from him.
Hasegawa places the lit part of the torch on the pile of newly transmuted gunpowder. The pile instantly burning right up, a bright flash but not as much smoke.
“Why did you ask for less smoke?” Erlen asks the boy right beside him.
“There’s less smoke that obscures the vision of the rifleman.” Hasegawa says nonchalantly.
“Hmm… I see, so, how’s life going?” Erlen asks him randomly. Not expecting the question, Hasegawa stumbles for an answer.
“Uh…It’s been fine. The elves still have a lingering hate for me but not as much now.” Hasegawa pulls out the Luger P08 from a newly added holster on his belt.
“Also, the soldiers don’t seem to hate you as much now anymore.”
“It’s probably because I’ve earned their respect… By training that into their skulls.” Hasegawa sighs, the soldiers have been hesitant ever since he was placed as their leader.
Only now has the tension eased up. Mostly due to the discipline from the rigorous training exercise he put them through. The training itself wasn’t really useful to a bunch of veteran elf soldiers but they took it to heart anyway.
“How are you going to work with the other elves using your Attack Infantry One? I mean this new style of fighting is like putting bowmen at the front of the entire army.”
“You’ll find out Erlen.”
“Okay.”
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“Looks like the turret ring’s a bit damaged. Bring me a bunch of iron” Hasegawa told an elf metal worker, as he inspects the Panzer I. It has been a while since Myr brought the tank to the village, the elves were skeptical at first that this was the secret weapon they were going to use, but after demonstrating the tank.
The doubts were consequently stopped.
The elf metal worker returned with four iron ingots in a sack, giving it to Hasegawa as he shoves the iron ingots into his registration crystal still left in the tank.
The iron just warps through the crystal as it glows bright.
“It’s going to take around two hours for that to repair itself.”
Since checking up on the tank, Hasegawa learned that the tank can repair itself albeit slowly, and that the engine seems to run on his mana. He silently thanked Qhyrros for giving him such an overpowered weapon.
“The tank overall seems fine.” He tells Myr through the intercom who was in the driver’s seat.
“Take it slow right?” she replied.
“Just don’t abuse it.” He sweated.
The tank moves forward, slowly gaining speed as the tracks dig into the ground. Myr slowly picks up the speed of the tank making a lap around the village before stopping in front of the elves under her uncle’s command.
“Hi Uncle Gaspar!” She waves at him, emerging from the driver’s hatch.
Hasegawa internally laughs at the sight of Gaspar with his mouth open wide.
“Myr let’s go back towards the field. You’ve messed around enough for the day.”
“Mou… You’re no fun.” She pouts at him through the intercom.
“I know, I know.”