The sky was an unbroken expanse of azure, so pure and undisturbed that not a single cloud dared to mar its tranquility. Such a serene atmosphere was a rarity over the war-torn town of Tiegenhoff, a border city caught between the might of the Empire on one side and the relentless forces of the Russian Federation on the other.
But the peace in the heavens was a cruel illusion. On the ground, the very concept of tranquility was nothing more than a distant utopia. Plumes of smoke curled into the air, accompanied by the anguished howls of the wounded and the dying. Great clouds of dust, stirred by the capricious wind, swept through the plains and the battered urban sprawl. Gigantic, smoldering craters pockmarked the landscape—on the hills, in the fields, along the outskirts, and at the very heart of the city. For some, these craters provided a temporary haven from the relentless barrage of gunfire. For others, they became their final resting place.
The city's skyline was a jagged ruin. Buildings, once proud and standing, were now reduced to skeletal husks or outright obliterated. Only a handful of structures had managed to withstand the onslaught, though by what miracle, no one could say. The scars of war would not only linger in the shattered infrastructure but also etch themselves deep into the minds of those who endured this infernal siege.
The dead lay strewn across the battlefield—Federation and Imperial soldiers alike. Corpses littered the streets, sometimes piled into grotesque mounds. Their sheer number defied comprehension. It was as though an entire city of the fallen had been constructed in death. The ground was saturated with blood, forming crimson pools that reflected the fire-lit sky. If this was not Hell itself, it was its perfect likeness.
The outskirts of the city still roared with battle. For fifty relentless days, the conflict had raged over Tiegenhoff. The city held no treasures, no vast resources, no culinary renown. Its value was purely strategic. To control Tiegenhoff was to command one of the East's most crucial railway hubs. Whoever held it could dictate the flow of supplies—food, ammunition, reinforcements. It was a vital nerve center that neither side could afford to relinquish.
Tanya grasped this reality all too well. From the very onset of the war, she and her battalion had been entrenched in its defense. The first days had been nothing short of a bloodbath. The Federation's assaults came ceaselessly—company after company, battalion after battalion, soldier after soldier. Like waves against a crumbling shore, they crashed against Imperial defenses, only to be repelled time and again. The Empire, lacking the Federation's sheer manpower, compensated with superior technology and its elite flying mage regiments.
Now, Tanya and her battalion stood guard over the last remaining bridge connecting the southern sector to the rest of the city. Their orders were unambiguous—hold the bridge at all costs. Though not the primary front, occasional Federation armor attempted to break through, only to be swiftly dispatched by the armor-piercing spells of the mages.
A heavy silence followed the most recent skirmish. But the respite was short-lived.
"Ughh, Commander," Grantz groaned, his voice laced with frustration. "Nothing's happening here! We should be up north helping our comrades, not stuck on this collapsing bridge playing sentry duty. Wouldn't it make more sense to just blow it up? That way, the enemy wouldn't be able to cross at all—"
Tanya didn't even turn to address him, but the sharp edge in her voice betrayed her irritation.
"Second Lieutenant Grantz, I don't recall asking for your tactical analysis. Orders are orders. If High Command wants this bridge intact, it means they're already planning the next phase. We are but cogs in a vast, intricate machine. One faulty piece, and the entire mechanism grinds to a halt."
She let the statement hang in the air before shifting her gaze to her unit.
"Take advantage of this lull while it lasts. The past weeks have been hell."
The soldiers of the 203rd Mage Battalion exchanged weary glances before nodding. Their bodies bore the weight of exhaustion, their eyes hollowed by relentless battle. They resembled ghosts more than men. Tanya herself was no exception, burdened not only by fatigue but also by the unique strain of wielding the Elenium 95—the Empire's technological marvel and her personal curse.
The artifact granted her abilities beyond any ordinary mage, but at a steep cost. Unlike the more stable Elenium 97 used by the rest of her battalion, the 95 drained her stamina at an alarming rate. Worse still, it gnawed at her mind, erasing fragments of memory and compelling her to utter profanities of faith toward the entity she loathed most—Being X.
"I need to limit my reliance on this damned thing…" she muttered to herself. "But the situation forced my hand again. How many times have I nearly bitten my tongue just to keep from spewing that nonsense? That wretched God must be laughing at me right now."
Her mind drifted back to the events of the past days. The battle had taken a sinister turn when an unknown force of enemy mages had entered the fray. Their interference had cut off vital air support just when the ground troops needed it most. Their jammers had severed communications between squads and HQ, rendering coordinated maneuvers nearly impossible. But the greatest threat of all lay elsewhere…
A girl—one Tanya had never seen before, yet one who harbored an unrelenting hatred toward her. Her mana reserves were staggering, her spells devastating. The battlefield bore the scars of their previous duel: a two-kilometer trench carved into the earth, a church tower split clean in half.
Their clash had culminated in brutal hand-to-hand combat inside the desecrated church, before the very statue of the deity Tanya despised. Physically, Tanya was at a disadvantage—no matter how formidable she was as a strategist and aerial combatant, she was still just a child. Magic could enhance her strength, but only for brief bursts before exhaustion set in.
In the end, she had emptied five rounds from her Luger into her foe, leaving her dying at the feet of her so-called God. But just before she could deliver the final shot, an enemy soldier—likely her superior—had burst through the stained glass, rescuing her from execution and vanishing into the night.
(Did that lunatic actually survive?) Tanya wondered. (I was certain I put a bullet in her heart. If she's still alive…)
Her thoughts were shattered by a sudden cry from her adjutant.
"Commander! High-energy magic signature detected! Prepare for impac—"
Visha's warning was cut short as a powerful explosion rocked the bridge. The source was above them.
"She's alive?!" Tanya's breath hitched. "Even after taking five rounds to the chest?! DAMN YOU, BEING X!"
Without hesitation, Tanya activated the Elenium 95.
"My protective God, may I be surrounded by your wall of fire and your divine hedge of protection. I declare that no matter what the enemy does against me, it will fail. Amen."
As soon as the words left her lips, she shot toward her adversary with breathtaking speed. The blade of her bayonet burned with jade fire as she channeled a massive surge of magic into it, aiming for a single, decisive strike.
Mary Sue barely managed to twist out of the way as the enchanted blade slashed past her. Tanya's momentum carried her forward, but Mary seized the opening, unleashing a barrage of piercing spells meant to tear her from the sky.
But Tanya had anticipated this. Twisting through the air, she wove between the bridge's steel cables, leaving behind decoy illusions in the shadows.
"You might have power," she sneered, "but you lack experience."
Mary's eyes widened in shock as Tanya's decoys took aim, their spell circles glowing ominously. For the first time, doubt flickered across her face.
Tanya smirked. "Let's see how you handle this."