Chapter 4:

" The difficulty of tactical maneuvering consists in turning the devious into the direct, and misfortune into gain.
[This sentence contains one of those highly condensed and somewhat enigmatical expressions of which Sun Tzu is so fond. This is how it is explained by Ts`ao Kung: "Make it appear that you are a long way off, then cover the distance rapidly and arrive on the scene before your opponent." Tu Mu says: "Hoodwink the enemy, so that he may be remiss and leisurely while you are dashing along with utmost speed."] "
- The Art of War, p. 139

The training with our line was a fairly uneventful affair. Lieutenant Kilian had us practice coordinated volleys and movement in formation, and I noted with pride that my tenth performed better than the one under sergeant Mehdi. Sadly I was still unable to cast even a basic fireball, but the expected reprimand never materialized.

Was it possible that my lieutenant had overlooked my failings because of my command's superior ability? That would be a pleasant surprise and would make it necessary for me to reassess my original impression. It took a rare kind of superior to forgive an employee failing in their primary purpose, namely serving as artillery in my case, because they noticed said employee improving overall performance. Personally, I would still reassign them since they did not perform their actual contractual obligations and their leadership skills could be utilized without paying them for a service that they did not perform.

Maybe the calculation for lieutenant Kilian was different. She lost out on around five percent of her line's combat ability in exchange for an unexpectedly competent commander of her newbie tenth. Should she replace me she would have to draw my replacement from the remaining fresh cadets, none of whom could compare to my academic record. I honestly still considered it foolish that the new recruits hadn't been dispersed to more veteran tenths.

Additionally, my superior probably also assumed that my deficiency was a temporary state of affairs. Considering I still had been unable to summon even the tiniest ember and had only earned myself crippling migraines I doubted a quick improvement.

So I somehow needed to convince my lieutenant to keep a useless mage. A reasonable person like her would only do so as long as the benefits I provided outweighed the costs. And in this, time was against me. How long until someone in my tenth acquired enough expertise to become a viable replacement? They were all making progress in their classes, unlike my magic which showed no improvement. The obvious conclusion, therefore, was that I needed to continuously demonstrate my tactical expertise to outweigh my failure. I might need to create new doctrines for my tenth. There is only so much credit to be had in drilling my squad well.

"Staggered volley fire, formation B! Get to it!" I screamed at the top of my lungs as Nauk's heavies charged us. Immediately after I gave my order four blasts of kinetic force impacted the approaching shieldwall, disrupting their coordination and opening small gaps. Those were immediately exploited by the second volley. Massive amounts of kinetic force slammed into the now unprotected orcs, hurling them into the second line and disrupting their formation. I noted that one unlucky soldier was hit by a second ball of force while in the air and so earned themselves an impromptu flight lesson despite their heavy plate. That was giving me ideas.

Regardless, the broken shield wall was our chance. "Squad one charge!" I started sprinting even as I continued to scream out orders: "Squad two flash cover!"

Squad one followed me into the breach caused by the second volley, their left hands coated in flame. They had used the time since the first blast to cast a modified fireball spell. As we descended upon the downed heavies they released waves of heat from point-blank range, making the metal scutums glow.

Even as the smell of burning flesh filled our nostrils we hacked at the legionaries with our blunted swords. Then, just as most of the heavies had finally managed to throw away their scorching shields, a bright flash exploded behind our backs. Squad two had cast their modified fireballs. The light blinded most of the now unprotected enemies. That was enough. Thirty heartbeats later the five of us had defeated all twenty heavies, the best heavy infantry on the continent.

Four of us, I amended a heartbeat later. Andre had been hit by one of the thrown shields, breaking his nose and giving him some rather nasty burns. The healers should be able to fix that. Before I could send him to the hospital however Nauk called out: "Well fought!"

Mentally, I agreed. Mages had incredible potential as skirmishers but were not used in that capacity in the actual Legions since sappers with their goblin munitions could pull off the same tactic we just did. It was standard doctrine to have them dart in to lob a few grenades, known as 'sharpers', into the enemy formation before using the resulting chaos for hit-and-run attacks.

For the sake of building camaraderie, I snorted: "Easily fought more like. Just the sad results of feeding your soldiers bread."

"Meh, we would have won if Nauk entered the Red Raged and chewed on your soft asses. Aketons, what kind of armour is that?" interjected Nilin thumping his plate, still very much laying on the backed mud.

The Red Rage was a state that some orcs could enter when fighting. It seemed to me like some kind of survival mechanism that had their brains overdosed on adrenalin. That the lieutenant hadn't succumbed to the Rage was actually good news. In that state, only berserkers could control whom they targeted with their aggression. Nauk could not and would have likely attacked his own line. This had happened multiple times during the start of our combined training sessions, but with time Nauk had managed to stop entering the Rage unwillingly quite as often.

Seeing Nauk bristle under Nilin's praise the latter added cheekily: "Of course, he could have only done so if Tanya didn't launch him into the sky."

Before the two friends could continue bickering with each other I interrupted: "And probably not for the last time." Seeing Nauk frown I added hastily: "There might be interesting combat applications!" Anything useful for battle will get an orc interested.

"Recruit!" the instructor screamed at me, an accusatory finger in the air. "Sir", I promptly stopped failing at trying to cast a fireball and saluted the man.

"Where is your fireball?" he asked impatiently.
"Apologies, Sir I have not yet been able to-"

"Yet?" he interrupted, and as he continued his voice grew louder and louder: "You have not been able to perform the simplest of spells for months yet now you will suddenly improve?"

"No Sir! But if I may receive additional directions, from an accomplished mage…" at that point I was giving the man my best admiring intern look, before continuing: "I have issues keeping the formula in my mind's eye, I would be grateful-"

"You think I can waste my time on instructing Callowan scum?!" the instructor practically screamed as he cut me short. "You are a waste, a horse-humping incompetent and your very presence defiles the Legions!"
The incompetent comment drew a flinch from me. He sneered at that: "You are not even worthy to join the rest of your dung-stained countrymen in Auxilia. The only value you have is as a sacrifice for our fields. Cast a fireball this instance or by the Below and Lord Black you will be such."

He was bluffing I knew, maybe to give me additional motivation.
Healing magic was a fairly difficult skill to acquire since it required extensive study. Some mages failed to grasp all the medical knowledge necessary to put bodies back together correctly, not that that would be a problem for me. Reinforcement spells had the tendency to tear ligaments if incorrectly applied and that was not even getting into the delicate balancing act that was a mental enhancement. Regardless if I would avoid struggling with the knowledge aspect of heal, should I not manage a fireball ultimately I would experience the same fate as other failed aspirins: reassigned as a regular.

That would be bad both for my continued survival and for my salary. As a regular, even if I became a sergeant again, I would still be expected to fight in the shieldwall. From the front. Without easy access to the advanced spells prodigies like lieutenant Kilian learned, or in other words no access to the possible safety of a shield spell. And the massively increased risk would be rewarded with only half as much payment!

So I tried desperately as all the other cadets watched. Again and again, I called up on my mana, which was as willing as always to come to my aid. It did not help. The formula slipped away, like a forgotten memory, and a hellish headache took its place. My target grew blurry as my skull pounded. A candlestick's worth of time later the instructor walked in front of me. Behind the pain, I was vaguely grateful that he had allowed me so many tries. Not that it helped an incompetent like me. In this life, I seemingly did not even manage mediocracy.

The teacher spoke: "I see." He then brutally backhanded me. As my head snapped to the side I did not scream, nor did I plummet onto the dirt though it was a close thing. Even as my jaw ached I met his gaze. I had experienced far worse things in a decade of modern war and weakness would reflect badly within the Legions of Terror.

He flinched, and I was surprised by that reaction. Corporal punishment was allowed and sometimes even encouraged and I had just disobeyed a direct order, however unwillingly. Maybe he had misjudged the strength of his blow? It was certainly possible, I had only ever seen him punish Betsy and Andre. In combination with the many attempts he gave me he might be a kind man who disliked disciplining his soldiers. Not optimal for an army but certainly beneficial for me. So I gave him a kind smile to reassure him that I wasn't badly hurt even as I felt a bruise forming on my cheek.

My intention seemingly came across since he quickly averted his eyes and gave an order: "Take her to solitary. Five days and make sure she doesn't get any food."

He had already turned away as I started walking toward my cell.

Imprisonment was fairly uncomfortable. My prison was more oubliette than a dungeon, with not enough space to sit down and no windows. While the entire arrangement was dark and unhygienic it did give me some time to think. My situation was precarious. I was certain that the next time I failed I would not get off with some punishment and instead be directly transferred to the regulars.

That I could not allow. Over my full term of twenty five years I would lose out on 25000 denarii as a regular, thrice as much as my current savings from my work as a tax consultant. Not to mention the increased danger.

I needed to keep my current position. For that, I would need to be able to at least cast a fireball in the short term, with the long medicine training giving me a bit of a buffer for the other spell. The issue was that there likely would not be any rapid improvement in my Trismagian spell craft. I needed alternatives.

Could I use the magic of my second life? I was hesitant to try. The explosion enchantment was fiendishly complicated as were all other spells that relied on a clockwork calculator to work. Additionally, the explosion itself was caused by the formula becoming unstable on impact, releasing the mana with great force. Should I screw up the spell matrix, as was likely without the preprogrammed formulas of the computation jewel, it would mean my fiery death.

Even if I risked that I would still need a way to deliver the enchantment. A bolt might work but for that, I would need to somehow hide the crossbow I was shooting with. I would need to use an illusion to disguise my weapon and another one to turn the actual projectile into a fireball. Two difficult spells without an orb at the same time? Impossible.

I racked my brain for solutions and I was thankful for all the time my punishment allowed me. It was only hours before I was released that I came up with a workable solution, though I cringed at the costs.

Signal horns were quite an experience. I had been used to receiving commands through radios and the occasional signal flare, a far less visceral experience than feeling the deep hum rattle your bones. Twice it sounded, once long and once short. The signal for an incoming attack.

"How long do you think we will last?" asked Nilin standing by my side.

"An hour, maybe two. Ratface totally fucked up his positioning again. He wasted his sappers on the palisade," I answered him.

"That is legion standard, " he pointed out with a grin completely aware of how bad of an idea it was against the non-standard Lizard company.

"Against plate the crossbows can actually penetrate, " I huffed as I watched the enemy approach four dozen meters beside the road. "That ogre tenth won't even be tickled. Also, why that incompetent assume they would break through the reinforced gate instead of our rickety palisade is beyond me."

I might be a bit too harsh on captain Ratface I thought. The man was a genius when it came to procurement and offered his services at a discount to Rat Company. I myself had even made use of his services for my magic troubles. Still, his talent as a logistics officer did not make up for his tactical deficiencies that had caused him to lead my company to ten consecutive defeats.

I took back my internal praise as I watched him fail to readjust the defensive lines in the courtyard. Zettour, the greatest logistical officer that had ever lived would never allow a man like that to lead soldiers. Watching the debacle was physically painful.
Ratface's plan, if you could call it that, was to prepare a killzone behind the gate. For that purpose he had split Nauk's line, placing a tenth of heavies and all of his regulars in a loose half circle. They would keep the ogres occupied and contained while the tenth under Mehdi and Kilian would rain fireballs down onto their heads.

That was why he had placed these more veteran mages on the tall eastern watchtower. From that position, they could hit both the uphill path to the gate and the courtyard. With captain Morok seeing the trap coming they were currently hitting nothing. Sure Kilian had sent out one probing volley, but from atop their tower they were just too far away from the actual attack. Their fireballs had lost most of their velocity over the distance and had not even caused the ogres to stumble. An unnecessary waste of mana in my opinion.

Not that my own tenth was doing much better. With our position on the westmost corner of the rampart, the enemy was attempting their breach just a dozen meters away from us. Our barrages, therefore, were packed with quite a bit of force, not that it helped much.
Instead of our volleys, it would be more accurate to say the salvos of my men since while my fireball alternative would probably have been more effective it would also get me disqualified.

As it was the approaching four-meter-tall steel-clad behemoths just absorbed most of the bombardment with their tower shields, steadily advancing forward. Were this a real battle I would have had my men switch to the hottest version of the spell, cooking the enemy in their own amour and making their air burn their four lungs.
The academy had forbidden that version since boiled eyeballs could not be fixed by healers. So I simply resigned myself to having my tenth concentrate their fire on individuals. At least we managed to knock two of them out as the rest reached the palisade practically unharmed.

A full line of mages probably could still stop the ogres if they were distracted long enough, but split up and without the forces still struggling to maneuver away from the gate we did not have enough time or firepower.

As Rat Company was on the defensive we had been issued barely any goblin munitions, the other form of heavy firepower the Legions employed besides the mages, for the sake of fairness. The few sharpers we did get had been kept with the sappers, spread out along the entire palisade. Captain Ratface had wanted a way for our crossbowmen to each break up a turtle formation since Lizard Company not only fielded ogres in exchange for their mage line, but they also had more heavies than was standard.

Ultimately Ratface's precaution was unnecessary since the rest of Lizard Company was patiently waiting for the ogres to open up a large breach in the palisade. It was the same thing I would have done and frankly a fairly predictable maneuver. Why bleed your forces when you can just wait for an opening? This tactic even neatly disabled the few sharpers we had because goblins, being half the size of a human could not throw all that far. They also couldn't all converge to the slowly forming breach because there was just not enough space on the palisades for them to bundle up.

I couldn't help but sigh. Nilin did too, far louder and with a theatrical flourish, before speaking: "Guess I will be taking my tenth into the breach to get plummeted by those ugly fuckers, while you continue standing here with nice unbroken bones."

His tenth had been placed with me atop the wall to sweep westward should the enemy establish a foothold. At least my captain was not stupid enough to believe that a single line of crossbows could hold off a determined Legion assault. Additionally, a ramp was just behind us so his tenth could serve as a reinforcement for the half circle.

I watched impassively as the ogres knocked down another log to widen the breach. The battle would be lost if we did not stop them. I decided on a course of action immediately and turned to Nilin: "Don't go, we could only take two before they break through and get my mages."

"Thank you for the great concern you show towards me," he interrupted with a shit-eating grin.

I fixed him with an unimpressed stare even as a wooden splinter passed over our heads. It was annoying that we were of equal rank and I couldn't reprimand him for that, but I needed his cooperation for my plan so I just continued: "We are doing that maneuver."

His grin immediately vanished and he asked hesitantly: "And I will be…?"

"Don't kid yourself, your bones are too weak and you lack coordination. Lead my tenth and the humans in skirmishing formation after us once the ogres are down," I said, before turning to my tenth. We had wasted enough time already.

"Listen up! We are doing that maneuver. First fourth forward, you jump on three. Aim for the heads," I screamed over the battlefield. Four heavies stepped forth while my mages lined themselves up behind them. "One! Two! Three!" In perfect synchronicity, the orcs launched themselves into the air. At the apex of their jump, they were hit by four fireballs, which had barely enough flame to call themselves that. I judged the distance carefully, decades of flight through the use of vectors advising me. Then, at the perfect moment, I screamed out: "Second volley fire!"

Again four fireballs impacted the heavies, hours of training with their partnered-up orc telling my mages exactly when and where to hit them. The Legionnaires stopped sailing upwards and instead were forced straight down, avoiding the tower shields that had blocked our fireballs, the velocity of the spell combining with gravity and their inherited inertia. Three of them managed to hit their targets, the reinforced scutums of the plate armoured soldiers punching against the ogre's heads. Two of them were knocked out instantly and would probably wake up with a nasty concussion. The third seemed merely dazed but soon after was also felled when the heavy started hammering them. Even the orc that had missed her target still managed to pull herself up by grasping the enemy's gorget and slipping a blunted dagger through the visor 'killing' the ogre.

As I watched the proceedings I screamed out orders: "Second fourth forward!" As there were only seven orcs in Nilin's tenth I grabbed a shield and also walked forward. While normally it was unadvisable for anybody not possessing an orc's robustness to try 'the maneuver', most people did not have decades of experience flying through the air with pretty much the same technique.
"One! Two! Three!" Just after I yelled the last word my shield was impacted by Kolose's blast. Without heavy plate or a superhuman skeleton, I couldn't take a fireball in my back so I had to fly facing the mages with my back towards the enemy. Still, it was exhilarating. If there was one thing I truly missed from my second life beyond my subordinates it was flight.

Back then I had often associated it with danger since most of the time it was a prelude to combat. Later, when I reached a high enough rank to spend most of my time on the ground commanding armies I started valuing my time in the air more. It was however only in my third life when I was permanently bound to the ground that I felt a true desire to return to the sky under my own power.

Of course, I had not designed this tactic so I could satisfy an emotion, I would never let something so irrational affect my decision-making process. It was merely one of the many innovations I devised to demonstrate my worth to lieutenant Kilian. This particular stratagem showed promise in vertically relocating legionnaires and might help with scaling cliffs or low walls.
Though I doubted the maneuver would ever have much battle application since it would leave the orcs isolated from a shield wall, the bread and butter of current combat. And in most cases when you could shoot a soldier into the enemy lines you could also shoot something more useful like a barrel of goblin munition. Which I my tenth practice launching too.

Admittedly it was not entirely necessary for me to participate, but I considered it a harmless indulgence. As a mage, I was far too valuable to be risked like this outside of a wargame and I probably was the most experienced person on Calernia in plummeting out of the sky. There was no real danger involved besides the possibility of a few broken bones which healers could fix in a candlestick's worth of time.

And so I enjoyed the nostalgic feeling of weightlessness, even as the second fireball impacted. Solokhe had timed her command well for someone who was not a former imperial mage and I saw two ogres being felled. It probably helped that the raining orcs had caused them to stand still in shock. Sadly I overshot my target though I still managed to throw my shield at the back of his helmet. It bounced off.

As I rolled off my momentum the legionary turned to me in all his fifteen-foot glory. It seemed that my ineffectual throw had reminded him that we were still fighting a battle. He raised his massive war hammer, a monstrous two meter tall thing of black steel, but I was already moving. As the weapon came down I dodged to the side. Not a moment too soon, as where I had been standing erupted in a fountain of dirt. A second later I was under the behemoth.

A quick note about fighting ogres: Their legs, upon immediate inspection, looked like something of a weak point. Far shorter than their muscled arms and bearing a heavy load they seemed an obvious target. The problem was that they themselves were also aware of that. And going by the disproportionate amount of ogres in officer positions you could expect both intelligence and tactical cunning greater than that of an average human from them.

When I had reached the soldier he likely expected me to try to attack his hamstrings or kneecaps, as one unfamiliar with his biology would. I had however taken the time to inform myself about ogres once I learned we would be up against Lizard Company. Understanding your enemy was essential for victory. So I did not waste time attempting to penetrate thick bone plates and instead simply ducked low and sprinted underneath him. Ogres, while often incredibly fast had difficulty turning.

I had however underestimated his cunning. He let himself fall onto his back. It was a risky maneuver placing his head, the only vital I could feasibly damage without magic within my reach. Even then he had not truly miscalculated. While he had no way of knowing that I couldn't actually cast a spell despite wearing a mage's armour his movement was fast. To fast. He would crush me under his bulk, break my bones under a three-quarter ton of metal and muscle.

I would be too slow. Still, I tried to escape, if only to require less healing. Then something unexpected happened. Somehow, I managed to dodge by a hairsbreadth, it felt like existence had given me just enough of a push.

I did not waste a moment. The ogre was already flailing his arms, the treetrunk-like limbs far larger and more agile than in any human, but I had already closed in on his helmet. Quickly, I thrust down my gladius through the gaps in his visor, stopping it only once I encountered resistance. Even his eyelids were as though as leather and with a blunted weapon I couldn't hope to penetrate them. Regardless, the legionary still counted as 'killed' and so I used the brief respite to look around.

What I saw pleasantly surprised me. All ten had been defeated, the one who was missed by the second assault getting knocked out by a stream of fireballs. Then I heard a many-voiced roar behind me and my prior optimism shattered.

Lizard Company was advancing in an orderly turtle formation, possibly to relieve their comrades, possibly just to exploit the breach and defeat the foolishly exposed enemies. It was not entirely unexpected and Nilin, appearing from the breach, had just brought me my counter.

"Combined skirmish wedge!" I screamed at the top of my lungs, already grabbing the nearest heavy and forming a line with the others. We reconfigured ourselves in the rough shape of a triangle, Kansoleh at the tip, with the heavies and mages in an alternating pattern and us sergeants keeping the wings in order.

As one we then charged the approaching shieldwall, spells being formed even as we ran. Just before we impacted the red laminated scutums Kansoleh and two others cast their heatwaves. The moment the enemy heavies dropped their now burning shields, balls of force catapulted them into their own ranks, creating a breach.

It was immediately exploited by us, our wedge lodging itself into the gap before it could be closed. Nilin's heavies guarded my mages while they themselves quickly darted in and out reaping a dozen casualties. Most legionnaires had held their shields above their heads to protect their approach towards the palisade, but that only left them open now.

I slashed at the closest legionary, my blade catching her in the throat. The next enemy I turned to had already gotten wise and blocked my attack with his scutum. It was almost impossible to still hit him with my short blade, but it proved unnecessary anyway. Rat Companies crossbowmen were finally proving themselves useful and started sniping the enemy legionnaires, now deprived of the safety of their testudo.

It would not last, I knew. Already captain Morok was barking orders, restoring his formation, and getting ready to encircle us. This had been a 'suicide' mission from the start, they outnumbered us by more than four to one. But I had been counting the seconds and was certain that we had already won this wargame. Even as a blade hit me in the neck I went down smiling.

Our attack would have bought enough time for Ratface to have his soldiers pluck the breach and for lieutenant Kilian to get down from her tower. An unspent tenth of mages would annihilate any attacking force in that small a kill zone. And Lizard Company would have to assault that position since without the ogres they could not establish another breach. I blacked out when an armoured boot kicked my head, still grinning.

AN(skip if you don't want the instructor's joke explained in detail):

So what happened with the instructor? Tanya not getting people strikes again. Tanya understood the interaction somewhat like this:

Instructor: Makes threat and gives an order
Tanya: How nice of him to give his subordinates additional motivation to carry out his orders. Why, I did often do something similar leading new recruits (Gantz, Traini-mages) to give them additional motivation. It works wonders!

Instructor: Insults Tanya
Tanya: I grew up in callow where insults are commonplace. This is just normal casual conversation. Why, I have called trainees maggots too!

Instructor: Gives her a lot of time to fail and humiliate herself in the eyes of others
Tanya: How nice of him to give me so much time to try!

Social interactions are difficult and when she does not actively focus she doesn't get others. Many of her misunderstandings/terrifying happen because she is absorbed in her thoughts and doesn't pay attention to others. A good example is the Dacia campaign where she wildly smiles at the easy job of clearing out a force without artillery and subsequently terrifies poor Lergen who stands beside her as she gets the news.

Instructor: Hits Tanya
Tanya: Ah a reasonable response in line with Legion law. Acceptable for my failure. (btw. Tanya deals badly with failure and expects extreme punishments afterward since it almost never happens to her and tends to beat herself up about them quite a bit. See letting the Legonian navy escape)

Instructor: Specifically punishes only two of the Callowan recruits
Tanya: Ah, I see he never punished my whole squad, how nice of him. Shows his inner kindness. (She does not make the racism connection since racism is illogical and therefore not part of her thought process. Except of course if she gets an in-her-face example in the form of Andre's bickering)

AN:
Nauk: Hurl me into the Sky!?

Tanya: For Combat, for glorious melee combat!

Nauk and every other Orc in existence: Fine then

AN:
I wonder I any of you will guess how Tanya got over her spell problem? It will be explained in the next chapter, which will probably come early since I managed to get corona (again). I must admit I am pretty happy with how this turned out and do think it is my best (and chunkiest) chapter yet. The Tea will be served tomorrow under Informational.