Chapter 82

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Mid-December. A few days after the shocking announcement was made to the young maidens.

This time, the girls, including a 28-year-old teacher, had literally trained to the point of death, and as a result, they were barely able to perform actions that could be called "shooting" in the simulator.

In response to this, the Integrated Headquarters recognized their qualifications and officially notified the military school's training battalion of their deployment with the expeditionary force.

Upon receiving this notification, the girls were not purely happy about being recognized by the upper echelons.

In fact, in a room set up for a final check before heading to the site, the girls were seen discussing with pained expressions.

"Right. So far, it was just an internal notice, wasn't it? ...Hey, what if, just what if, if we hadn't grown to this stage, we wouldn't have had to participate in this expedition?"

"What do you mean?"

"If we hadn't grown to this stage, maybe we wouldn't have had to participate in this expedition, right?"

Over the past few days, Hashi had prioritized the simulator over the exoskeleton training, and she sighed as she muttered this.

"Yeah, that's true."

Indeed, that was the case.

No matter how much the upper echelons of the First Division wanted guards within their sphere of influence, they wouldn't want students who couldn't even perform the basic action of "shooting" — to put it bluntly, who couldn't even serve as a meat shield — as guards.

Therefore, the possibility that they could have avoided this expedition under the pretext of "insufficient proficiency" was extremely high. In that sense, Hashi's opinion was not wrong.

Everyone is afraid of going to the battlefield, especially when it involves entrusting their lives to weapons they still can't handle properly.

To be clear, Hashi wasn't saying she didn't want to go to the battlefield because she was afraid. She was saying that while she was fine with going to the battlefield, she wished she had more time.

Shoko, who was addressed, understood how Hashi felt, as she felt the same way.

However, Shoko didn't think avoiding this expedition would be beneficial for them.

"In that case, you'd just be delaying your combat experience, right?"

"But you could train more in that time, right?"

"That might be true if you consider the extended training period... But?"

"But?"

"In that case, your first battle might be a deathtrap like the previous major offensive."

"That's true."

Shoko glanced at Nana, who had joined the conversation, and fully agreed with Nana's opinion.

Indeed, the destination this time was a foreign country, meaning there was a place to retreat to in the worst-case scenario. In contrast, the previous major offensive was for the defense of their own country, where there was no place to retreat.

Of course, she didn't think dying in battle was shameful. But if asked which she preferred for her first battle, Shoko would choose the former without hesitation.

A first battle in a place where no one had any room to maneuver was something she wanted to avoid. Everyone felt the same way, including Hashi and even the unit commander, Shizuka.

That's why Shoko didn't think it was a bad thing that their first battle would be this expedition.

Furthermore, there was one more thing.

"Besides, you might get branded as a 'failure.'"

"It's not just 'might,' it's 'will.' As in 'useless.'"

When Nana spoke about practical matters, Mari spoke about pride.

No matter how you put it, weapons are meant for the battlefield. If they couldn't go to the battlefield because they hadn't mastered the new equipment and exoskeletons given to them by the military, they would be literal failures.

Of course, considering the time needed to master new weapons, they might not be entirely to blame, but it was easy to imagine the disappointment of the upper echelons of the First Division.

After all, right next to them was a freak from a normal family who could manipulate anything, from customized machines to mass-produced models, and even untested exoskeletons, with ease and had achieved remarkable results.

"Ah, right. That's also something I don't want."

They were each from families renowned for their martial prowess, sent to this school with high expectations. Even if the comparison was unfavorable, being treated as incompetent would be unacceptable.

Moreover, they had wanted it.

They had seen their freak classmate, Keita, achieve military honors and promotions, and thought, "I can do it too, if given the chance." They wanted to stand on the battlefield themselves.

It wouldn't be right to complain about being given that chance.

And they knew something else.

Keita, the freak classmate, hadn't gone to the battlefield of his own volition for his first battle.

Even if the surroundings had tried to prepare as much as possible, it had been a surprise to him.

Therefore,

"Of course, it's natural to be afraid of your first battle. I'm afraid too. But I won't run. Never."

In front of the tension of the impending first battle, Shoko wouldn't question the military orders given to her, even if the machine she would handle was a completely new model with no practical experience, or if the engineers who built it were a bunch of freaks, or if the data used to construct the fundamental parts of the machine had been collected, analyzed, and utilized by freaks.

(But... it might not be possible.)

Despite the many uncertainties, the screws of retreat in Shoko's mind had already been removed.

"Good. That's the spirit of a warrior's daughter."

"Major!?"

---

"I've heard your story. I understand your feelings."

When Shizuka heard Shoko's words, which could be interpreted as a declaration of grim determination, she felt not shock but gratitude.

She wanted to apologize for taking inexperienced students to the battlefield.

She wanted to apologize for making them resolve themselves.

Until just a moment ago, Shizuka, as a teacher, had thought this.

However, after hearing Shoko's words, she changed her mind.

No, she was made to change her mind.

Shizuka wanted to apologize for underestimating Shoko as an "inexperienced student."

She wanted to thank her for declaring her resolve in front of her classmates, who were likely more anxious than she was.

But, sadly, Shizuka was their teacher, superior, and commander.

Therefore, she couldn't say, "Thank you for easing our anxiety, including mine," even if her mouth were to tear. Instead, she had to reprimand those who were likely anxious.

(Not as a substitute, but...)

I won't let them die.

Shizuka resolved to bring them back alive, using any means necessary.

Well, the person who would be used for sure was not some upper echelon but the freak from a normal family. He wouldn't complain about being used by Shizuka, as he didn't want his classmates to die—of course, if he was put in a situation where he couldn't survive, he would rebel without hesitation.

Putting aside the unique treatment of the only male student for now.

"We are going to the battlefield. A place where one mistake can lead to death."

"..."

"But, fundamentally, we are soldiers. Even if you are students, you are treated as lieutenants, so you can be called soldiers, right?"

"Being a soldier means following orders and dying, right?"

"That's right."

"..."

Shizuka responded firmly to Hashi's trembling voice, which asked the question. Hashi, Nana, and Mari seemed to be shocked by the words, as if they had been hit by a verbal blow.

"But..."

However, Shizuka's speech was not over.

In fact, this was the main point.

"You have a major misunderstanding."

"A misunderstanding?"

"Yes. Dying by following orders is the duty of a soldier. That's true. But giving the order to die is only in the worst-case scenario. Such an order won't be given easily. Especially not to you, who are still green."

(I would give such an order to someone who isn't green, though.)

Thinking of using Keita in a pinch, Shizuka deliberately used a light tone.

"Right. That's true. At least, we won't get such an order on this expedition."

Nana, who had been treated as a greenhorn, didn't get angry but nodded in agreement.

"Of course. If things get dangerous, we can just run away, right?"

Mari, recalling that this expedition had a place to retreat, also nodded.

"Well, I don't think running away is the best option, but..."

Hashi, who had been the most anxious, managed to ease her worries after hearing from Shizuka, the commander, that they wouldn't die unless the worst of the worst happened.

"If necessary, we should run without looking back. If you don't like the word 'run,' you can just go forward with all your might in the opposite direction. That's a proper military action, right?"

"Good point."

"Going in the opposite direction, huh? That's a good idea."

"Then it's not running away, is it?"

Even though she had already removed the screws of retreat, Shoko, who had no intention of dying needlessly, summarized it, and the others nodded with smiles.

(Phew. Well done.)

Seeing their tension ease, Shizuka, who thought that some tension was necessary but not grim determination, raised her evaluation of Shoko and decided to move on to the main topic before the flow was lost.

The main topic, the briefing.

"Now that you understand, let's start the pre-deployment briefing. This will be the last briefing we do in the country, so if you have any questions or points to improve, speak up now."

"Understood!"

No matter how much Shizuka, as a commander, had said that they wouldn't die so easily, they were still going to the battlefield. It was still a place where a single mistake could lead to death.

Therefore, Shoko and the others listened seriously to the mission details from Shizuka and repeatedly asked questions and gave candid opinions.

--- After several hours of discussion.

"Hmm. Is that it? Do you have any more questions?"

"I think I'm good."

"I don't have any particular issues."

"Me neither. We'll figure it out on the spot, right?"

"...Huh? Is that it?"

Shizuka, who had gained valuable insights as a commander from the various opinions given from the perspectives of a warrior's daughter, a student, and a soldier, was about to wrap up the discussion, but Shoko, who had been determined from the start and hadn't given any opinions other than confirmation, raised a question.

"What's wrong?"

Is there a problem? Shizuka thought, but for Shoko, it wasn't just a matter of "Is there a problem?"

"Hey, what about him?"

"Oh!"

That's right, the main force of the training battalion, Keita, was not present.

No matter what opinions they gave, if Keita, the captain of the operational unit, said no, it would be no. This was true even for Shizuka, the commander.

As a commander, she couldn't underestimate the operational unit, and in military actions, the opinion of an excellent individual would prevail over the majority.

Especially since his excellence was proven not just on paper but by his combat record.

Everyone would naturally value Keita's opinion over the inexperienced Shoko and Shizuka, who had only limited combat experience.

Shoko and the others had no intention of forcing something if Keita said no. That's why she asked if his opinion was necessary, but Shizuka's answer was affirmative.

"It's fine."

"Huh?"

Shizuka wasn't underestimating Keita, who was younger but had a record, or looking down on him. The matter was more straightforward.

"Captain is already at the site."

"Huh?"

That's right, Keita was already at the site.

It was impossible for someone not present to participate in the briefing, and if they couldn't participate, there was no need to hear their opinion. That was all there was to it.

Thank you for reading.

Finally, we might be able to go on the expedition.