Four kilometers away, the camp of the Holy State legion was buzzing with activity. For a long while, the soldiers had been carrying out searches and internal inspections. Yet the position defended by the Fourth Platoon seemed unusually calm—too calm, perhaps. Was this what people called the calm before the storm?
But to Hielaina Irevia Satschama, there was no trace of unease or anxiety. The soft morning sunlight, the tea and sweets at hand—these were enough to lull anyone into forgetting that they were on the front lines.
"Would you like some more?"
Hielaina lifted the metal mess tin that held their brewed black tea, intending to refill Shatiel's half-empty cup. Who knew where they had even gotten the cups, and strangely, they only had cups. The tea had to be poured from an aluminum mess tin that looked completely out of place beside them.
"Thanks."
The crimson liquid shimmered with rising steam. Shatiel casually raised the cup to her lips, took a small sip, then set it back down on the wooden crate that served as their table. At the center of the crate, a small plate held a few squares of broken chocolate. More than half had already disappeared—mostly into Hielaina's stomach. Shatiel never had much taste for sweets.
And so, the two sat there, sharing morning tea, savoring the fresh air and gentle breeze. They spoke no words of importance. Their long-standing mutual understanding ensured no silence was ever awkward. Simply being side by side, quietly soaking in nature's presence, was more than enough.
"Doesn't it tire you, carrying that sword all the time?"
Hielaina cast a glance at the long blade leaning against the crate. She remembered it from their first clash with the judgment cells—it had been one of the spoils Shatiel took from a defeated foe. There were two of them, and ever since then, Shatiel carried at least one by her side, even during idle moments such as this.
"It's not that heavy."
At the mention of the sword, Shatiel's gaze fell upon it. She picked it up with one hand, and sitting there, gave it a few fluid swings, as if to prove her point.
"Let me try."
Hielaina, slightly entranced, felt a spark of interest toward this weapon she had never paid much attention to. Shatiel concluded her graceful routine with a slow horizontal slash, then handed the sword to her companion. Hielaina grasped the hilt and hefted the blade. As Shatiel had said, it was not particularly heavy. Yet she couldn't be sure if that was due to the weapon itself, her Night Knight physique, or a combination of both.
She rose from her seat and tried to mimic Shatiel's movements. But all she could manage were crude chops and upward swings—stiff, unrefined, utterly devoid of elegance. With a bayonet or a combat knife she could show some skill, but with a sword like this, she had no experience at all.
"Not bad."
"Don't flatter me…"
Hielaina sighed and sat down again, turning her attention instead to the sword's details. Its blade was forged from an unfamiliar material, etched with patterns. Along the spine ran a layered seam, within which lay the sharpened core. At first, she assumed it was some kind of metal—though it lacked any luster. Yet when she tapped it, the feel and sound were unlike any metal she knew.
She recalled how the judgment cell warriors had wielded such swords to summon flames. Having just begun studying magic herself, she couldn't help but feel tempted to try. But she couldn't even sense "mana," much less cast a spell. To ignite flames from this sword as they had? Impossible for her.
Unless… perhaps Inaya might know? Of course—why hadn't she thought of that before? And better yet, Inaya could teach Shatiel magic as well. Another skill on the battlefield could never hurt.
"Are you interested in learning magic?!"
Naturally, she still needed to ask. But in Hielaina's view, who would refuse such an offer?
"Magic? I think I've already started learning it."
Shatiel took another sip of tea, then calmly turned her eyes to meet Hielaina's astonished gaze.
"When Inaya taught you, I was listening nearby. So I tried it myself, and… it worked pretty well."
"What do you mean, 'worked pretty well'?"
Hielaina nearly jumped from her seat—not only shocked that Shatiel was learning magic, but also stunned that her progress seemed faster. Her cursed competitiveness flared.
"Something like this…"
Shatiel lifted her left hand. Faint currents of electricity slid across her fingers, gathered at the tips, then burst outward in a weak spark. She had kept its power minimal, just enough to scorch a little patch of earth.
She knew Hielaina's prideful streak—how she hated falling behind in a field she had claimed as her own. Watching her reaction now was, as expected, quite amusing.
"How did you…"
Hielaina glanced at the scorched mark on the ground, then back at Shatiel.
"After Inaya mentioned meditation, I tried it. I soon felt mana, and just as she said, casting was simple once that happened."
Shatiel chose not to prod further, though even this plain explanation was enough to make Hielaina burn with envy.
She pulled back her sleeve, showing Hielaina the runes inked in black upon her wrist. Everything had been as Inaya described: rune, mana, spell—thus, magic.
"So, what did it feel like, casting a spell? The link between mana and the rune, for example?"
"The connection between mana and the rune? What do you mean exactly?"
Seeing Hielaina turn serious, Shatiel prepared for a deeper discussion.
"I mean… do you need to consciously control the mana? I've been wondering if my problem is that I'm focusing on the wrong thing, which is why I can't sense it."
"I don't think so. Meditation does let you feel mana objectively, and whether a spell succeeds doesn't seem to depend on manipulating it."
She paused, searching for the right words to describe the indescribable.
"To cast a spell, you only need to 'link' the mana to the rune. Once that thought is formed, reality changes. Directly interfering with the mana only affects the spell's strength."
"You've already learned to manipulate mana?"
"…That's right."
Shatiel smiled faintly. Trust Hielaina to latch onto that detail.
"Don't worry. Everyone has different talents."
"Ha, thanks for the consolation…"
For once, Hielaina looked genuinely dejected, burying her face in her arms atop the crate. Shatiel could only remove a glove and gently pat her head.
"Well, well. Looks like I came at the wrong time…"
A familiar voice chimed in by their ears. This time, even Shatiel hadn't noticed her approach.
"Hm? You're here…"
Hielaina lazily raised her head, arms still folded on the crate.
"Where did you disappear to? I haven't seen you all morning."
"Oh? Someone actually missed me? I'm touched…"
Inaya, despite her words, plopped herself down on the crate beside them, shamelessly grabbing a piece of chocolate and popping it into her mouth.
"Not bad…"
After passing judgment on the chocolate, she snatched Hielaina's teacup and drained more than half of it in one gulp.
"Now that hits the spot~"
"…"
Both Hielaina and Shatiel stared at her blankly. Had a shell rattled her brain?
"Sorry, haven't had a drink all morning," Inaya said, unapologetic.
"So what were you doing?"
The more evasive she sounded, the more suspicious it seemed. Hopefully she hadn't stirred up trouble again. But from past experience, she only looked unreliable most of the time.
"Well, I slipped into the Holy State army camp before dawn, went through a whole series of… events, and came back."
"You infiltrated their camp? Alone?"
Back at headquarters, Captain Dyke wore the same look of shock that Hielaina had shown, while Otto and the others were equally astonished.
"Just me. But I think you'll be more interested in the intel I brought back."
Arms crossed, Inaya shrugged, as though it hardly mattered. Yet her words drew the full attention of everyone present.
"What intel?"
Otto asked at once.
"That troublesome barrier of theirs? It's generated by a stone pillar."
"A… pillar? What do you mean?"
At that, every ear perked up—especially those of the Night Knights of the Fourth Platoon.
During battles with the Holy State forces, the Fourth Army had tried countless methods to break the magical barrier. None had succeeded, save for aerial warships brute-forcing it with overwhelming firepower. Lacking knowledge of magic, generals and staff officers alike had been at a loss. But Inaya, at least, was an expert of sorts.
"I mean this…"
She recounted what she had witnessed in the enemy camp, including how she had disrupted the Red Robes' chanting.
"So the key is the pillar—and the Red Robes sustaining it."
When she finished, the room fell silent as everyone pondered.
"Do you know how to destroy the pillar?"
Otto was first to ask.
"I tried. But my spells were too weak."
"How many Red Robes are there?"
"Not sure. Judging by the quarter's size, maybe around two hundred."
"…"
With that intel, Otto exchanged glances with Nordhausen and Edwin. Each gave a firm nod. Dyke, noticing this, realized Otto already had a plan.
"First of all, Miss Inaya, thank you for yet another generous contribution."
Otto bowed with deliberate formality. Inaya responded with a mock-noble curtsey of exaggerated flourish. Then Otto turned to the rest.
"I will request joint operations from our superiors. This time, we must strike first—launch a surprise attack on their camp, with the goal of destroying their barrier system."
"Is there anything you need from me?"
Dyke seized the moment to ask.
"If no direct orders come from above, we will carry out the mission independently."
"Understood."