"10/10."

"Really?!"

"Yeah, of course," Hans laughed, as he watched Adelyn's smile grow into a satisfied, and cheery one. "Thanks. Do you have any more of them?"

"Of course," she took a basket from a table. Then, she gave it to him. "Here. Enough to last you a day. There are macarons too in there."

Crap. That's a lot of sweets.

"...I was expecting four or five extra pieces, but…thanks. This is a lot of nice stuff. You put a lot of effort into these kinds of stuff, don't you?"

"Of course," she proudly crossed her arms. "Alizée and you seem to enjoy it, and so do I, so it's a no-brainer. I'm just happy to see you both enjoying it, and besides…"

She took a bite from a macaroon in her hands, and her cheeks turned rosy as she melted in bliss.

"Mhm…it's just sooo good. I sometimes can't believe I can make these things."

Hans laughed along, as he looked down at the basket.

I wonder how I can repay her.

Suddenly, he felt her staring at him. She seemed to have a mischievous smile on her face, as she poked his shoulder.

"You're plotting to repay me, right mister?"

"Gee, your ability to read minds is scary. Is that a part of your ideal?"

"No, not really," she shrugged. "Let's just say, I can see what you think just by looking at you. Even with your cold indifference, at this point, I can tell what each little twitch on that face of yours means."

Hans felt his cheeks turning hotter.

"...You're looking a bit too much there."

"Oh! Erm, apologies," she looked away, hiding her hands behind her. "So…um…what are your plans today?"

"Nothing. I'll meet up with Ebert and continue developing the manuals we're creating. It needs to be disseminated fast."

Hans took a macaroon from the basket. There were many colors and flavors, but he picked a chocolate one, because in his mind, that was always the best. He quickly dug into it as he spoke, enjoying as the flavors melted in his mouth.

"That, and I need to check in on Jonas and his mages," Hans continued. "I've been reading a bit into magical theory already, so I want to see more about the things those mages can offer."

"That so?"

"Indeed. So far, I've been using our battlemages as mounted firepower. An intermediary between musketeers and horse artillery because of their capabilities at flinging spells at enemy demons. But other than that, not much."

"Well, we use them also in engineering, remember?"

"I think sapper work is underutilizing them. There has to be more utility from our battlemages outside of that."

Adelyn snorted.

"Those poor sods," she shook her head. "Unlike me, most mages have a fraction of my magic, or your magic for that matter. You do know that, right?"

"Yeah?"

"Yet, you're planning to overwork them," Adelyn narrowed her eyes. "But, I suppose you're the great tactician anyway, so you're free to do whatever, Hans."

+++

June 8, 1539 CE

Days have already passed in Astelia City. Work had been heavy for Hans, Adelyn, and the rest of their team, as they tirelessly continued preparations for the upcoming eastward campaign.

The situation only continued to deteriorate outside of the established defense zones by the combined Asfaleian, Ygeian, and Nomosian Armies. The rest of the principalities in the Imperial Core, now seeing the improved situation in the former republic territories, called desperately.

Hans had expected that because of the Holy Empire's treatment of the West, they would be a bit more reluctant to answer said calls. But, volunteers continued to swell in liberated and secured cities.

The author's narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

Armies were being raised left and right, industry awakened with a newly defined purpose, and citizens, all of them afraid of mankind's impending doom, worked with a shared determination for victory.

It was almost like watching a strange propaganda in Hans' mind, where everyone stood side-by-side for a mythical 'victory together'.

Unlike back in his homeland, however, where he felt jaded to such sentiments, here, he felt affected by it. So, he squeezed as much of his free time to do everything that needed to be done.

Drills, training troops, constructing improved doctrines and protocols, even helping IYC engineers at fine-tuning their magical weaponry—he did it all.

In the downtime, he spent it either going on solo expeditions to dispatch straggler lesser demons or monsters in the countryside, raising his AP reserves and leveling up as best as he could. Adelyn on the other hand continued to pursue how she could manifest her ideal when needed, alongside trying to control it.

All-in-all, every day was a tiring affair. But this time around, with good friends around him, alongside the people in even just Astelia City, he felt…not alone anymore. Back then, when fighting, he felt as if he shouldered a burden too big on his own, where he'd die again and again, sacrificing his sanity just to eke out a victory.

Now…when was the last time he died again? He almost forgot it, a bit. That was quite unnerving, thinking how he might become unused to the reality of dying and restarting, but he buried those thoughts as he focused on the grimoire in front of him.

Magic. It certainly was of great interest to him, something he slept on for a while now because he was always bitter at the lack of an open skill that would let him do spellcasting.

Of course, he couldn't do much outside of using his closed skill 'Deceitful Sabotage II' to enchant his good-ole pistol and submachine gun ammunition to his liking, but, he wished that he could get an actual open skill that would maybe let him use shadow magic.

Quite frankly, he realized that outside of his mech, he would be a bit too vulnerable with nothing but his guns and body armor. Strengthening his body's constitution like Adelyn to 'maybe' withstand a demonic attack was kinda pointless at this critical juncture.

He was too swamped with work at trying to make the bigger pieces of the army that support his mech function like a well-oiled machine to have even a few hours to spare for training.

But to be a light glass-cannon with spells outside of his mech, combined with his closed skill's enhancement of his handheld firepower, of course, he could eventually mount emergency capabilities without his mech when needed.

Of course, the most important part however was magic itself, and how he would use his men. He needed to construct new drills for the 1st Anti-Demon Unit.

So far, he had used Captain Weibel's battlemages for one thing. Either specialized infrastructure work, or reacting as specialists to unknown magical threats that may be on the battlefield.

During actual combat, he strictly instructed them to always, always, perform the most basic attack magic types. No flashy thousand sharp vines shooting out of the ground kind of spellcasting, but only spells that were close to bullets.

Thus, to Hans' mind, he treated these battlemages as heavy infantry fireteams that may be mounted at times. Basically, soldiers who carried heavy machine guns or man-portable anti-tank/anti-air weapons.

Looking at the various spells presented to him, he felt like he was making a grave mistake.

So many spells seem to have area denial possibilities.

He looked especially at one, which showed a spell that required probably ten battlemages to cast in order to freeze around six hundred square meters of land within just four minutes.

Others were the reverse, large area spells that created an inferno at that large area, or even smoke-producing spells that could obscure their foes. Others involved traps, or even in the furthest sections of the grimoire, spells that could control beasts.

He looked up at the ceiling as he finished the book.

He took out a notepad as he began to jot things like AP requirements for spellcasting, time to cast spells, and then he began to compare them to the abilities of mages. An idea began to form in his mind…

+++

"I need you to give me the data about the total AP capacity and regeneration rates of all of your platoons."

"What?"

"I said what I said. I also need you to give me the updated figures for the affinities of each battlemage. I'm trying to formulate a unit composition plan."

Jonas seemed confused by Hans' demands. He lowered his glass of whiskey on the table, and with a furrowed brow, he shook his head.

"I'm sorry, but that might take a while. Will four days suffice?" Jonas asked.

"Four days? Come on, but you'll just ask everyone a question, then place it on paper."

"Yes, but that requires them being present."

"You mean they're not present here?"

Jonas laughed, before nodding.

"You didn't know? Hans, these are mages. They're…how do I put this…they kinda have a life, and we don't treat them like actual soldiers. They go out, do their own thing, and come with us with the assurance of pay only."

"Well…yeah, they kinda are mercenaries," Hans touched his chin as he looked down. "So what are they doing?"

"Practicing their magic. Catching up on their studies. Gathering herbs and catalysts so they can use magic. Resting. Life. You name it."

"I see. So you'll have to give them a recall order."

"Yeah. The only ones at Astelia right now are those contracted and required to remain to support the formations doing drills. The rest aren't with us. It'll take a while for them to come here and reassemble."

"I see…" Hans sighed, he wanted this thing done quickly after all. "Well, just inform me then once you have it ready. I'll take my leave now. I need to run my idea with Ebert."

"That guy's a colonel now," Jonas groaned on the side. "Almost makes me wish I were still in the Imperial Musketeer Guard. My rank has barely advanced, and I had so many kills."

"Didn't you get higher pay from the IYC by now?"

"Well, yes, but…prestige is somewhat interesting to me now. Eh, whatever," he waved his hand at Hans. "I'll get you what you need soon. Also, once you're done with whatever idea you have, I want to hear it too."

"Of course. You do have to know it too anyway—because you'll implement it in battle."

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