+++ Lieutenant Hans Hoffman +++

  Near La Veridad City

  November 30, 1538 CE

  “Dig! Dig, private, dig!”

  Hans stood up and looked at his watch. Down below him, the various recruits all furiously dug their foxholes and trenches. It was a group work, with Hans and Captain Strobel trying to perfect their rapid fortification drills.

  Everyone here had a purpose. Some were diggers who had to pick up the shovel and dig under the sweltering sun. Some teams cut up trees rapidly to planks with the support of mages. Other teams carried wood to the foxholes and trenches that were being constructed. Then, some mages helped place the planks to support the dugouts and earthworks.

  It was a strenuous process. The men dug and dug. Earth mages pulled out massive amounts of soil and dirt with their staff to create larger trenches and embankments. Some of the dugouts, due to their rushed nature, even caved in. Naturally, Hans and Captain Strobel went to areas where it happened and chewed the soldiers to fix it as quickly as they could.

  Dozens of minutes passed, until finally, the fortifications were done. Hans walked right in front of the various foxholes, dugouts, trenches, and embankments. All of the recruits finally managed to breathe as they occupied their safe areas. Meanwhile, Hans ended the timer on his watch.

  “Gentlemen!” he shouted over the fields. “We started thirty-eight minutes ago. You, D Company, took thirty-eight minutes to dig all of these raggedy ass holes in the ground.”

  He laughed at them.

  “Anyone of you. Tell me. What is your expected outcome in the event of a demonic attack if it takes this long?”

  No answers.

  Behind him, Captain Strobel spoke up.

  “Someone. Answer now,” Captain Strobel said. “I doubt any of you bright folks will make a mistake.”

  “We’ll be dead?!” One of the recruits shouted from the far side of the fortifications.

  “Exactly!” Hans shouted at them, although he grinned. “You will be all dead. Very dead in fact. Because by the time any demon reaches you, you’ll be out in the open, trying to dig holes, and thus, ripe for the taking.”

  He walked close to the fortifications, inspecting them one by one. While it took them quite a while, it was, however, not too shabby. The earth mages who rapidly drew up plans, as they acted as essentially the engineers in the field, seemed to have designed D Company’s fortification well. They were dispersed. They utilized natural elevations and depressions on the terrain for cover and overlapping fields of fire.

  Hans nodded proudly.

  “Now! However slow you people are, I must say. I commend your work,” Hans said. “With this kind of fortification, you will be able to resist a demonic attack for a few brief minutes. Congratulations. However, the day isn’t over yet. Thus, to make sure you will live—let’s try to speed the construction time to twenty minutes.”

  He knew that if he did this back in Lotharingia, he’d get manhandled by angry grunts. But out here, with mages around acting as a sort of engineering machine, Hans knew that no bellyaching could be tolerated.

  He went to the command foxhole and pulled out the commanding officer of D Company.

  “Get this unit to dig faster, Captain,” Hans ordered. “They have to be better by the end of this day.”

  +++

  “Come on you bastards!” Hans shouted at the men who were lying on the embankments. “If you cannot reload within thirty seconds lying down, you will be a very, very dead man.”

  He leaned down near one of the soldiers. He bit the paper cartridge he held and poured it down into the barrel of his gun. Then, he placed the musket ball that was with the same paper cartridge he had opened. He immediately tried ramming it while sitting. He certainly was slow at doing it, unfortunately.

  “It’s a bit awkward, ain’t it?” Hans asked as he tried to speed up. The soldier nervously replied to him.

  “A-aye Senior!” the soldier said. “But I’m trying.”

  “And I can see that. Just keep trying to find techniques to speed yourself up faster.”

  The soldier nodded, as he finally readied his gun. Then, he went slightly up the embankment to open fire at the various wooden targets three hundred meters away. The soldier cursed as he badly missed. But Hans stood up and readied his pistol. Then, he opened fire at the targets.

  Each of his shots was rapid, controlled, and well-aimed. They all struck the targets with ease. He turned to the troops down below him.

  “Gentlemen! To shoot, you must be confident! We have a lot of powder and bullets today. Do not fear that you will run out. Keep shooting, and hit your targets!”

  Hans stepped back. The men continued their drills. Reloading, firing, reloading, and firing. It was a tedious process. But he needed all of them to get used to the idea of firing their snaplock muskets better. The enchantments had helped a lot at not only somewhat stabilizing their shots, but also at enhancing their range.

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  But unfortunately, these green sods were missing too much. Hans was not going to let that pass. The entire point of the 1st Anti-Demon Unit was that each soldier would be a lethal force. They wouldn’t be normal infantrymen of the Empire. No, they had a standard grey uniform. Armed with the most advanced snaplock musket enchanted by their producers. And they had paper cartridges. Such soldiers must always over-perform in their duties.

  “Well, these newbies are getting the hang of it pretty nicely,” Captain Strobel said with a chuckle from behind. “They’re picking up the pace one by one.”

  “How much paper cartridges are we spending each day?” Hans asked.

  “Approximately eight thousand of them,” Captain Strobel crossed his arms. “But there should be a shipment of thirty-two thousand cartridges tomorrow. More should arrive within three days.”

  “Damn…those guys Presse–Elise is getting faster at churning out these things.”

  “Well, we’re ordering a lot of volume and the IYC is footing the bill. It’s a damned lucrative arrangement. Besides, Count von Anhalt and the Duke of Lignon are raising an army using the Presse–Elise Manufactory. There’s talk that they’re studying the reports we’re sending to them to form a 2nd Anti-Demon Unit.”

  “They sure as hell are serious about this demon subjugation thing. It still astounds me that it’s a bunch of businessmen that’s taking the lead on these efforts.”

  “A lot of nobles are pooling their money and resources to the IYC’s coffers in donations with the express desire to get demons off their backyards. If you think about it, this is just a business decision on their end. They’ll make a lot of money from us once they start charging the governments of Principalities for payments.”

  “…So we’re going to end up as mercenaries for real? And it’s not even us that’s going to be making much of the money directly.”

  “The orders of equipment and supplies we’re sending them cost thousands of Imperial Marks. The way I see it, if they start using us to get payment from the Principalities for protection, they’re just recouping their expenses. High expenses.”

  Hans shook his head.

  “Adelyn’s not going to be a fan of that,” Hans said. “But, I doubt we’ll have much leverage. All of our kit and supplies come from their sole manufactory.”

  “Exactly. We’ll just have to live under the shadow of our benefactors,” Captain Strobel said. “They’re not the most benevolent ones, but damn are they a good one. Look at our boys after all.”

  Captain Strobel laughed, as the cracks of musketry continued. Soon, he was shouting at them to cease firing.

  +++

  “How’s the talks about the shipment of big guns?” Hans asked. “Any good news?”

  “They said they should be able to send the extra twelve guns within three weeks,” Adelyn said as she sliced the steak she had prepared. “It’s pretty costly too. They’re going to be dismantling one of the frigates’ cannons that’s docked in Rousselot. Even then, it’s going to cost nearly two thousand Imperial Marks from the gun’s owner.”

  “The ship captain?”

  “Yeah, apparently, he paid for it back then. So he’s not just giving up his ship’s guns for free. Unfortunately, they’re the only guns we can get within this month if we’re not going to produce new ones. I asked about Presse-Elise but it appears that they’re still setting up the tools to start the production of artillery guns.”

  Hans shook his head as he took a slice of his steak. Certainly, Adelyn’s homemade meals were utterly superior to whatever the inn provided. Unlike the ‘steak’ he ate from them, which was usually cooked until it was utterly dry, this was cooked medium doneness. And the seasoning…it was awesome.

  This is almost extravagant. Way too extravagant.

  She certainly must be splurging on their IYC money. It didn’t surprise Hans anymore. It must be her noble tastes coming back. Now she wouldn’t be able to go back to eating normal food from this world, hence her cooking.

  And Hans’ was mooching off that development.

  “You know, that city is going to be a pretty rich one by the end of this,” Hans said. “They’re cashing in on a lot of investments, capital, and they have a lot of buyers for their new weapons industries. At this rate, it’d be a nice wealthy place one day.”

  “Hmm, planning to retire there?” Adelyn teased.

  “Maybe. I don’t know. That place seems well positioned to start this world’s industrial revolution at some point, don’t you think?”

  She laughed.

  “You’re teaching them too many ideas from our world,” Adelyn said. “Honestly, it should have taken them ages before figuring out those new cartridge things if you weren’t such a madman at forcing them to make one.”

  “I still have a lot of plans. And I don’t care. This place needs to step up its tech game if it wants to survive. Back in Terra, during this age, we didn’t have to fight these kinds of monsters. We were only fighting each other. That’s enough of an excuse to develop for ages. Not in this case though.”

  “You’re right, you’re right,” Adelyn nodded. “So…how’s the recruits shaping up?”

  “They’re half-decent. Nowhere close to the veterans we lost though. To be honest, it’s hard to whip them up quickly to the new standards. Then there’s the new tactics we’re still developing…”

  “What’s the basic idea?”

  Hans stopped eating, looking back up at Adelyn’s curious face.

  “Uhh…well, something about being more mobile with our defenses,” Hans said. “But it seems to be way too hard to get individual platoons on constant movement without fortified dugouts. Too exposed. And to be honest, their firepower is lacking.”

  “They’re the thorns of the unit, Hans. Remember that. That’s just their goal.”

  “...Yeah, but—”

  “You’re placing too much emphasis on making sure the ‘thorns’ are up to the best standards. Do you have any other ideas, perhaps?”

  “The other one is going out and grinding my levels a bit,” Hans said. “And, erm…getting more upgrades for my mech.”

  “I’m level forty-six now,” Adelyn said. “Surprised?”

  Hans’ eyes raised. He had been stuck at level thirty-six for a while now.

  “You’re at what now?”

  “The Viceroy’s training regime is paying off bit-by-bit, I suppose. I’m gaining a lot more control over my skills, specifically, my magic. And to my ability to regenerate AP. I’ve even raised my attributes a tiny bit. Nowhere close to the Viceroy’s, but…something at least…”

  “How is that…isn’t that a less efficient way of leveling up compared to shooting random things?”

  “It seems to be that case,” Adelyn said. “Still, you wanna try it?”

  “I don’t have any magic to train,” Hans said. “And what am I supposed to do? Do fencing or something stupid?”

  She merely smiled.

  “Hmm, I think you’ll be up for a surprise then.”

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