The arrow is swallowed by the darkness. Atop the castle wall, Ferden Leon held his bow steady, motionless. The single arrow released from his fingertips flew straight into the mass of enemy soldiers below. ——Hit. A prayer-like thought spun round and round in his head. The next moment, the arrow plunged deep into the shoulder of the soldier carrying the front of the battering ram. "Guah!" A dull scream. The heavy infantryman staggered, and the battering ram's balance crumbled for just an instant. The soldiers around him panicked and stopped moving as they tried to support their comrade. Just as planned. "[laughing]Heh, not bad for a shot in the dark!" A little surprised at his own skill, Leon immediately nocked a second arrow. But the instincts from his past life moved his body. While the enemy was flinching, he took swift aim. ——Next, the one in the middle. He drew the bowstring taut. The wooden bow creaked and bent. His target was the soldier carrying the center of the battering ram. If he could silence that one, their movement would stall even further. ——All I can do is buy time. He released his fingers. The second arrow sliced through the wind and this time pierced the enemy's thigh. "Uwah!" Another scream rose up. Chaos spread. The enemy soldiers began looking around frantically. It was too dark to tell who was shooting from where. "Enemy attack!" "Where from!?" "We don't know! Above!?" The commotion grew louder and louder. Leon grinned. On the battlefields of his past life, this was his specialty—making the enemy panic. What a lone sniper could do wasn't toppling a massive army. It was stopping the enemy's movement, spreading confusion, and creating time for allies to act. "[shouts]Enemy attack! Enemy soldiers at the wall! They've got a battering ram!" This time he shouted without restraint. He had already bought enough time. Yelling directly was faster than ringing the alarm bell. Torches began flickering to life throughout the castle. The clanking of armor could be heard drawing closer. The guards were rushing over. "A battering ram!?" "Enemy attack on the east wall!" "All hands, to your posts!" One after another, soldiers came up onto the castle wall. Among them was a familiar figure in silver armor. A one-armed man—the former Knight Commander and headmaster of the Weisgard Military Academy, Berndt Stein. Close-cropped hair streaked with white, a face carved with deep wrinkles. In place of his lost left arm, he was a master who freely wielded a longsword with only his right. "Leon." A low, calm voice. "Yo, Headmaster. Took you long enough." Cracking a joke, Leon lowered his bow. He noticed he was breathing heavily. His fingertips throbbed with pain. Just firing a few arrows had already worn him out this much. My body really is nothing like my past life, he thought with a wry smile. Berndt glanced at Leon, then immediately peered down over the castle wall. The enemy soldiers were still in disarray, but they would likely regroup soon. "Loose fire arrows. Don't let them get a hold on the wall." Berndt gave orders coolly. The soldiers all sprang into motion at once. Fwoosh—Whoom! Several flaming arrows were loosed, raining down upon the enemy's heads. Trails of fire were drawn across the night's darkness, and the moment they struck the ground, they brightly illuminated the surroundings with a burst of light. A man who appeared to be the enemy commander could be heard shouting in frustration. "Retreat! We've been spotted! Fall back!" Their surprise attack having failed, the enemy soldiers abandoned the heavy battering ram and fled into the darkness. The tense atmosphere eased, just a little. "……Hah." Leon leaned his back against the stone of the castle wall and let out a long breath. The strength had left his legs. That was close, he thought, a cold sweat breaking out on him now after the fact. If I hadn't been here. If the enemy had moved just a little faster. At worst, the castle wall might have been smashed through. "You were the first to notice." Berndt approached. His one arm swaying quietly beneath his armor, he looked down steadily at Leon. His eyes were as sharp as ever. "[laughing]Well, yeah. It was a fluke, Headmaster. I was just spacing out, stargazing, and got lucky enough to spot 'em." He answered lightly on purpose. But Berndt wasn't fooled. "You held off the enemy alone." "Wouldn't say held 'em off… just bought a little time, that's all." "With a bow. Against those numbers." Berndt looked at Leon's hands. The trembling fingers. The skin was rubbed raw and red from gripping the bow too hard. "……Reckless as ever, I see." Berndt's voice softened, just a little. Long ago, this was the man who had taught Leon—a failure at the military academy—how to hold a sword from the ground up. In the end, Leon had absolutely no talent for the sword, but even so, Berndt never gave up on him. "Your magic depends on how you fight." Berndt was the one who had told him that, too. "[serious]……Hey, Headmaster." Leon looked up. "How long is this war gonna drag on, I wonder." Berndt fell silent for a moment. A cold night wind blew across the top of the castle wall. Far away, the watch fires of the besieging army's encampment flickered and wavered. "I don't know." It was a short answer. "But… as long as this city holds out, there is hope. The Andavari dogs can't keep up this siege forever either." "Whether our supplies run out first, or they give up first—that it?" "That's right." Leon looked down at the enemy encampment once more. General Klaus Werner was over there. The enemy commander. If I could just blow that bastard's head off—this war might actually end. (If only I had gunpowder.) A heat spread deep in his chest. (If only I had the knowledge from my past life.) "[whispers]……Could I make it?" He murmured to himself. "Make what?" "Hm? Ah, it's nothing." Leon hurriedly laughed it off. But inside his head, the blueprints were growing clearer and clearer. M1903 Springfield. Bolt-action. Caliber .30-06. Effective range of eight hundred meters. The problem was the lack of gunpowder. But—what if there was an alternative? He casually looked to the west. The Ferden Mine, twelve kilometers west of Valmund. That was where magic steel was extracted. A mysterious ore that could store magical power. (Could I exploit the properties of magic steel?) Release the magical power all at once to propel a bullet. Use magic instead of gunpowder— "……No, it's too soon." Leon shook his head. First, he had to properly draft the blueprints, or there was nothing to discuss. And he also needed someone to cooperate on the technical side. His thoughts drifted to Forge Street. Hammertal. The largest workshop for processing magic steel. Its master, Besen Dolk. A stubborn old man of fifty-five, but his skill was among the best on the continent. If he could get that man's cooperation— "Leon. I'll write up what happened today in my report. It's your achievement." Berndt's voice brought Leon back to his senses. "[laughing]Nah, it's fine. I just happened to be here, that's all." "Don't be modest. If you hadn't noticed, the wall might have been breached." Berndt spoke with a serious expression. "……Heroes are always just people who happened to be there." Leon looked a little surprised, then rubbed his nose sheepishly. "[gentle]Heh heh heh, you're gonna make me blush with all that praise." "Don't get carried away." "……I'm not." The two looked at each other and shared a small laugh. Dawn was near. The eastern sky was faintly beginning to whiten. The soldiers standing atop the castle wall looked up at the sky with relieved faces. They had somehow pulled through tonight's battle. But the war was not over yet. Leon pulled a single piece of parchment from his pocket. On the folded paper was a portion of the blueprints he had hastily scribbled down during the night. A secret belonging only to him, not yet shown to anyone. (Someday—without fail.) (I'll create my partner in this world.) The wind blew, making the edge of the parchment flutter. Leon clutched it preciously, then looked down at the enemy lines once more. The besieging army's headquarters—General Klaus was over there. "[whispers]Just you wait. Someday, I'll definitely blow a hole right between your eyes." His small murmur was swallowed by the wind and reached no one. But his eyes had regained the sharpness of his past life's sniper—Iapetos, the Piercer. Night broke. A new day was about to dawn upon the city under siege.