Arcana and Witchcraft

As the frontier region closest to the Sinister Wasteland, the Aswan Region's climate was only marginally better than that of the surrounding areas. The enormous temperature swings and arid conditions were harsh trials for most humans. Yet to stop the endless stream of green Beasts emerging from the wasteland and protect the Imperium's most important production region, humanity had no choice but to build defenses here.

On the map, the Aswan Region was a short corridor. To its west stood the towering, unbroken Ridge Mountains, while its east connected to Iron Snail Bay. It stretched three hundred kilometers in total, only five kilometers wide at its narrowest point and eighty at its widest. At Ork marching speed, Aksum Province could be reached within a single day and night.

Precisely to prevent that from happening, after one large-scale Ork invasion, the Benedict Empire reinforced Aswan Fortress. It changed from a single fortress into a chain of fortifications spanning the entire corridor, while the two fortress divisions originally stationed there were expanded into an army.

Based on the Imperium's core forces, the Aksum Army had three core divisions, one cavalry division, and one artillery division. It also included forty-seven infantry garrison battalions, thirty-five garrison artillery companies, twelve Heavy Cannon companies, five militia reserve brigades, independent engineer battalions, and several mysterious battalions. Under maximum mobilization, its theoretical total strength could reach as many as one hundred and twenty thousand men.

In reality, however, because of the long "peace," the Aksum Army not only had to defend the Aswan Defense Line, but also assist in defending against the Beastmen who came and went like the wind across the Panos Plains—green demons less powerful than Orks, yet even more detestable.

Thus, most of the time, the main defenders of the Aswan Defense Line were still those forty-seven garrison battalions, thirty-five artillery companies, and twelve Heavy Cannon companies. Another core division and a cavalry brigade served as mobile forces. The militia reserve brigades could not be mobilized unless the situation became dire. This was an administrative problem the Imperium had never resolved—should reserve brigades answer to regional military commanders or theater military commanders?

Even so, many people felt that such forces were more than sufficient. After all, Orks had never truly posed much of a threat. Most people's impressions of them came only from folk tales and academic papers.

They were just a pack of brainless Beasts. At most, they knew how to walk on two legs. Were they really worth fearing?

"That is..."

The bleary-eyed soldiers had just been driven out of their warm barracks by their officers when they saw an indigo figure already standing atop the fortress's inner wall. Blue flames curled around him. Whenever his hands brushed over the damaged wall, the long-neglected bricks seemed to come alive, visibly swelling and writhing before returning to their original square shapes. Yet the cracks and gaps were all filled, and the entire wall suddenly looked newly built.

"Master Bourbon, you're up early."

The soldiers greeted him warmly. The figure turned around, revealing a white mask that exposed only his eyes.

Bourbon had graduated from the Royal Arcane Higher Academy in Cusco and currently worked for the Arcane Office of the Imperial Military Affairs Department. He was also one of the very few Arcanists who had joined the military. Unlike his other assigned colleagues, Bourbon had enlisted voluntarily. Many guessed that this had something to do with his officer father, who had died in the line of duty.

"Ah, there are still many places to handle today. The wall foundation in Bastion Sector Two has loosened too. It won't do if I don't start early."

A kind, slightly hoarse voice came from beneath the mask. It sounded like that of a man in his early thirties, though Bourbon had actually only just passed his twentieth birthday.

"Bourbon, are you done over there?"

Suddenly, a somewhat aged voice rang out in the distance. Another Arcanist emerged from the foot of the wall two hundred meters away. He had long brown hair, wrinkles on his melancholy face, and looked at least forty.

"Senior Ron, I'm done here."

"So am I, but this fortress is so huge and there are only two of us. Where are the promised five people?"

Arcanist Ron also worked for the Ministry of Military Affairs. But he did not particularly enjoy the job. It was not that he did not want to serve the Imperium; there simply were far too few of them. Every corner of the Imperium was requesting Arcane support, yet the Arcane Office had only a little over forty breathing creatures total, counting people, dogs, and cats. Every current assignment had already been booked out for two years.

The greatest use of Arcanists in the military was rapidly constructing field fortifications, repairing damaged artillery, and administering emergency aid to important wounded personnel when necessary.

"The Imperium is unsettled everywhere now. We'll just have to work a little harder. Those Beasts... you saw them too."

Hearing his colleague's complaint, Bourbon's voice remained calm. He gazed at the boundless desert in the distance, recalling what had happened several weeks earlier.

Perhaps out of curiosity about Orks, Bourbon and Ron had joined a patrol after arriving at the fortress. They followed an entire cavalry company into the wilderness and encountered Orks for the first time a few days later.

Only then did Bourbon gain a direct understanding of how terrifying those creatures were.

Though completely naked, they could keep charging even after taking more than ten bullets. Their dreadful roars had jolted him awake from nightmares several times. In the end, only when the cavalry company commander rushed up and chopped off that thing's head with one stroke did it finally stop.

And things like that were everywhere here...

"I'm not saying the work is hard. Since I took a military post, I never expected comfort. But those damn Wizards."

Ron's tone was filled with indignation as he slammed his fist heavily against the solid parapet.

"They're nothing but thugs! Hooligans!"

"Hooligans? Hearing that word from a pack of short-lived ghosts, I'm increasingly convinced the Imperium is beyond saving."

A snicker came from behind them. The two turned and found four or five Wizards wearing various masks standing on the parade ground below the inner wall. The one who had spoken pushed up his wolf mask, revealing a youthful face.

"Watch your words, Kateril!"

"Short-lived ghosts" was an extremely grating term to Arcanists. Ron's face reddened, and his hands repeatedly clenched and loosened in agitation.

But the young Wolf School Wizard called Kateril seemed delighted by the other man's anger. He wore a mocking expression, spread his hands with exaggerated flair, and bent at the waist like a stage actor.

"Ah, then I truly apologize. I shouldn't have poked at the sore spots of you two old gentlemen."

"You!"

Ron angrily tried to rush down, but a hand stopped him.

"Kateril, we do not wish to argue with you. I hope you will not come disturb us either. We are all serving the Imperium, each performing our own duties."

"Oh, it's Lord Bourbon, the nice fellow. How did that saying go?"

Kateril straightened up and pinched his throat as he imitated some rough voice.

"We country folk are just like this. We're not like you grand city gentlemen."

"Ha ha ha!!"

The Wizards around him burst into laughter, drawing a wave of laughter from the soldiers drilling nearby as well. Ron's complexion changed from red to liver-purple. Bourbon's face could not be seen, but his faintly trembling shoulders revealed an emotion he was struggling to suppress.

"Still, Bourbon, Arcana left you like this. Why don't you cherish your life more?"

Kateril maliciously patted his own face. Even a female Cat School Wizard beside him could not stand it and tugged at his sleeve.

Bourbon had been disfigured in an Arcane accident, which was why he wore a mask. Not many knew about it, and Kateril happened to be one of them.

"Shut up!"

Ron shouted furiously. Bourbon, beside him, stepped forward and spoke evenly.

"Now."

"What?"

"Let's settle this."

Pale blue flames began curling around him without anyone noticing. Bourbon's words stunned Ron. Although Ron had always talked fiercely, he had never considered actually fighting. After all, Arcanists had neither the barriers of Witchcraft nor enhanced senses. Aside from the power of Sculpting, an Arcanist was merely an ordinary person—perhaps even weaker than one.

"Ha ha ha! Good! I accept!"

Kateril laughed loudly and clapped twice. The power of Hanan rapidly gathered around him, icy white flames and blazing red flames weaving into existence over his shoulders.

A clash between Arcana and Witchcraft drew everyone's attention. It was not a sight ordinary people often got to see, and no one wanted to miss it. More and more soldiers gathered, quickly surrounding the grass field so tightly that not even water could pass through. But once matters had reached this point, the officers—especially the senior officers—could not possibly remain unaware.

"Stop!!"

Amid piercing whistles, a large group of military police rushed onto the parade ground and quickly dispersed the crowd. Yusuf strode over in a fury. Compared with several years ago, he had aged considerably.

"General."

Bourbon and Kateril both withdrew their powers. They were soldiers first, and Wizards or Arcanists second.

"Kateril."

Yusuf walked up to the young Wolf School Wizard, his tone extremely stern.

"If there is a second time, I will send you back to your father. I am certain you do not wish to return there."

"Yes."

Kateril no longer had any of his previous arrogance. He lowered his head, his fiery red hair concealing his face and whatever expression it wore.

Yusuf sighed. In truth, he bore responsibility for this as well. The first thing any senior Imperial general had to learn was how to coordinate the relationship between Arcanists and Wizards in the army. Both were indispensable to the Imperial military, yet their relationship was so poor. Yusuf lacked such experience and had made many mistakes, such as arranging their quarters so close together.

Although the accommodations had later been changed, the conflict had already emerged.

He had requested Arcane assistance, but he had never expected the Ministry of Military Affairs to actually send people. The moment he received the transfer order, he suddenly realized this was probably Diego's doing again. Although Diego had left this place, he had never stopped worrying about it. For years, he had continuously increased the budget and added new equipment. Now, most soldiers had been issued new breech-loading rifles, all forty-eight advanced 380-millimeter fortress guns had arrived, the old field artillery had been replaced in batches, and weapons they had never possessed before—mines, rockets, and more—had also been added to the warehouses.

A single Secret Guard could never accomplish all this, Yusuf often thought.

"General! Something has happened."

Just as Yusuf was considering how to ease such a sharp conflict, a messenger ran over.

"What is it?"

"There has been a discovery at Observation Post 19."

"Orks?"

"There are some, but we can't be certain."

Yusuf was greatly surprised. Observation Post 19 was a small fort southeast of the main fortress, only three hundred meters away, but it was already considered a relatively deep forward outpost.

"Let's take a look."

Yusuf brought the Wizards and prepared to head over, but Bourbon came to his side.

"General, I would like to go too."

"A..."

Kateril had just opened his mouth when a Deer School Wizard beside him dragged him back into the crowd.

"Mr. Bourbon, it's too dangerous."

"I'm a member of this fortress too. I can't hide in my chamber like some young lady, can I?"

Though Bourbon's words carried a teasing note, Yusuf felt somewhat moved. He had heard that Arcanists were gloomy people buried deep in seas of books. He had not expected there to be such a soldierly Arcanist.

"Very well."

The group hurried to Observation Post 19. The commander there was already waiting outside the gate, but when he saluted, Yusuf did not even look at him and headed straight for the highest point of the outpost.

"Over there."

Taking the binoculars handed over by a soldier, Yusuf narrowed his left eye and strained his right toward a dune.

"What the hell is that!?"

He cried out and lowered the binoculars. After catching his breath, he immediately raised them again.

Through the lenses, he saw more than a dozen huge Orks on the dune. Each was far larger than any he had seen before, and they wore remarkably "fine" armor. Fine might not have been the right word, but compared to the Orks he knew, it was indeed exceptionally fine.

But that was not the important part. These giant Orks were clustered around a silver giant. That thing was absurdly huge, clad from head to toe in gleaming silver armor like an ancient knight. There was not a trace of green on it. It did not seem to be an Ork at all.

"What exactly is that..."

Suddenly, he noticed the Orks pointing and gesturing in this direction, though he could not tell what they were saying. The silver giant also seemed to be holding binoculars, but Yusuf had overlooked them because of its size.

"It's looking this way!"

As if he had met the other's gaze, Yusuf abruptly lowered his hands.

"General, what is it?"

Bourbon was deeply curious, especially because this battle-hardened old general looked as though he had seen a ghost.

"See for yourself."

Yusuf handed him the binoculars. Bourbon immediately raised them to his right eye with both hands.

"Those are... Orks? Why are they all so huge? And what is with that armor???"

Bourbon lowered the binoculars, swallowed, and could not say anything else. Kateril snatched the binoculars from his hands.

"What a bunch of bumpkins, making such a fuss... Holy shit! What the hell is that thing? I'd believe it could tear this building apart with its bare hands!"

"Kaman, lock the coordinates. Notify Gun Positions Three and Four. High-explosive shells."

After calming down, Yusuf issued his orders. A Crow School Wizard immediately sat cross-legged on the ground.

"X12b4lzz, m65r3, v1..."

A moment later, a string of strange syllables floated from his mouth. A Deer School Wizard beside him converted them onto paper into another, comprehensible script.

"B2, left three hundred, elevation zero-two-zero."

As the mental instructions reached the fortress communications Wizards, twelve 380-millimeter fortress guns in four gun bastions southwest of the fortress slowly rotated, their pitch-black muzzles aiming in the same direction.