Volume 2: The Great War

Chapter 14: To the Front Lines

In the beginning, it was the evolution of defensive magic.

A revolutionary form of defense—magic that allowed not even a trace of mana to pass through—emerged, and with it, the very nature of warfare was overturned at its core.

Magic, by its very definition, relied on mana to function.

And so, before a barrier that rejected mana entirely, no spell—no matter how powerful—could break through. Every form of offensive magic was rendered meaningless.

Flames that could once scorch vast stretches of land… were nullified by a single defensive spell—

And in the end, they were struck down in return by guns, crude weapons originally created for those lacking the mana to stand on equal footing.

The age of magical exchanges vanished almost overnight.

In its place came something far more brutal, far more primitive—purely physical combat. Gunfire against gunfire.

Weapons that had once been little more than a last-resort means of self-defense for the magically inept now rose to prominence as the centerpiece of war itself.

Several years passed following this technological upheaval.

Firearms advanced at a staggering pace, giving birth to machine guns, artillery, and countless other instruments of destruction.

“Hah… to think they’d keep charging forward without understanding any of this. It’s nothing short of foolish.”

And yet, it took the Kingdom of Lunoa an entire month to truly grasp this reality.

For the past hundred years, there had been no wars between great powers—only minor clashes between smaller nations. And within those smaller conflicts, magic had already faded from use, replaced by firearms.

That was precisely why great nations like Lunoa had begun researching and mass-producing guns.

They knew of this new kind of warfare—at least in theory. They had prepared for it, reorganized their armies accordingly.

But they had never truly accepted it.

At their core, their way of thinking remained unchanged.

Nobles still charged gloriously into battle as they always had, casting magic with pride—only to be riddled with bullets by seasoned mercenaries who had long since adapted to the new age.

They believed, without basis, that as “true nobles,” they would prevail regardless.

“Well… I wasn’t exactly aware either.”

I let out a wry smile, quietly acknowledging that I, too, had once shared that misplaced confidence.

If I were to make excuses, there had been two major misunderstandings regarding anti-magic barriers.

First, no one had imagined that by working together, multiple users could deploy a massive, circular barrier over an entire area.

Second, it had been assumed that such barriers had strict time limits when used individually. In reality, by sharing the burden among several people, the mana consumption could be distributed—allowing the barrier to be maintained indefinitely.

These methods had never been tested in the smaller wars of the past simply because they had never been necessary.

And yet, when finally applied, they worked effortlessly—as though they had always been meant to.

“Well… they’re just excuses, really.”

It had taken one month for the great powers—who had never truly known war—to learn what war had become.

The only stroke of fortune for Lunoa was that their enemy was another great nation… one that had made the exact same mistakes.

Both sides suffered catastrophic losses—yet neither gained the upper hand.

“…Sigh.”

And now—

The battlefield had become a hellscape.

Nobles included, everyone clutched unfamiliar shovels, digging trenches into the earth, raising rifles, and trading fire in a grim stalemate.

“You don’t seem to be able to stop sighing.”

A voice broke through my muttering.

The man seated beside me glanced over, speaking with casual curiosity.

“…Well, can you blame me?”

Once I had resolved to go to war, everything moved quickly.

On the very same day I spoke with Father, I left our territory behind.

After a brief journey, I reached the vicinity of the front lines, blending in among common soldiers as I boarded a transport wagon bound for the very edge of the battlefield.

“Let’s just wrap this up quickly and head home.”

The man beside me spoke with an easygoing tone, as if discussing nothing more than a routine errand.

“…No. This is going to drag on.”

The First World War hadn’t ended by Christmas.

And neither would this one.

“No, no, it won’t be like that. Even the newspapers are saying—”

It will last.

The moment he tried to dismiss my words—

“The front line’s been blown apart!”

A shout rang out from outside.

“…What?”

“Move!”

“Huh!?”

It seemed we had already reached the front.

Before the man beside me could even process what was happening, I acted without hesitation—

Grabbing the heavy cloth covering the wagon’s cargo bed, I tore it aside in one swift motion, throwing it open to the chaos waiting beyond.