Steel and Mana

Chapter 316 – Controlled Falling

"You should take a day off," Sasha said with a soft whisper, standing behind me and rubbing my shoulders as I sat at the dining table, finishing my late-night meal.

"I will rest when this is all over," I chuckled, closing my eyes and enjoying her touch. "When I don't need to listen to the voice in the back of my head warning me about Pascal."

"Are you sure it will end next year?" She asked after a moment of silence between us.

"I don't know if one year would be enough, but it will start as soon as the snow melts; I would bet on it. So, I have work to do and prepare us for it. I already spoke with Mirian and Elliot, and they agreed. We are preparing the army for war."

"How's our side?"

"Honestly? We are doing great. We had one of the easiest winters for a long while. Hell, in the end, we even got ourselves an adequate core so another Knight would get his mech. The production of our region is also going strong, the North is stable, and the flow of trade with the help of the trains is in full use, speeding up a lot of things for us. Speaking of trading, I am going to meet with Alvor again, who is on his way to Avalon. We will discuss one of their oil fields, and we will see if I can get one under our control."

"I don't think he will just give us one. They are not stupid; your interest in them tells them enough: that it is valuable. They may not know how important it is, but they will know it is worth a lot when someone like you shows this much draw to it."

"I know." I chuckled, pulling her into my lap, hugging her body, and stroking her head. "But I am in a position where I am the one dictating the terms. Though I don't want to bully them. I'd like it if we could remain on friendly terms, so I am going to be willing to agree to compromises. Depending on his stance, I will be ready to leave their oil fields in their hands if he pushes back on the idea. I can let them do the extraction and delivery, but I will make sure we get it before anyone else and at a good price."

"Before anyone else? Do you think others will also want it?"

"If I can obtain a field, I can build my refinery there, at the source. If not, then I will rely on them to ship it to me. Either way, the method of refining crude oil will become known, and even if they never infiltrate us, sooner or later, they ought to discover how to do it. Then, that knowledge will spread, and they will want to keep it to themselves or capitalize on their new resources and sell it at a high price. As you said, they are not stupid. The latest reports from Atuvia have already noted that they began reproducing our tractors or at least a prototype variant. More than that, the spy we are trailing is pushing to get into the same oil business..."

"I am also sure when Mirian learns about our planes and the oil situation, she will want a piece of it." She shrugged, thinking it over, "And as an ally, you can't just say no to her."

"I can say no to her. I will just do it diplomatically." I answered with a chuckle, kissing her face, "For now, I will get us everything we need to win the war against Ishillia. Then, we can finally kick back a little and let things play out... When we hammer Pascal down like the rusty nail he is, I plan to do it in a way that will send a clear message: We are not to be trifled with."

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"My Sovereign, I think I solved it." Merlin walked into my office, rubbing his chin, bringing in a stack of papers.

"Hm? Solved what?" I asked, looking up from reading my reports coming from Kraus, detailing how they began building the prototype of the first biplane. Which also meant Sasha and I should start working on the engine soon enough.

"The paradropping part." He said, looking up at me as if it should be evident. "Since we talked about it, I have been thinking, and it is a pretty simple problem. I looked at it as an issue we had already solved. In the same way, we have tools to let our workers raise any object, despite its weight; we can give them a simple backpack with the corresponding formation. We don't even need to use up CC for it! Just apply a responding tattoo, and when they drop from the ship, they can adjust their weight and land without issues."

"Would they be able to fly?" I asked, feeling that I may have developed a biplane for nothing...

"Flying? Of course not!" he chortled, looking at me as if I had said something outrageous. "It would be controlled falling. To change course and maneuver, that would be hard even for a mage."

"Say that to my kids..."

"Huh?"

"Nothing!" I shrugged, feeling a bit relieved. "If you think this would work, you can go ahead and implement it. Start the tests and training as you see fit, but make sure the first jumps are not from a height that would kill our soldiers! That would be most stupid..."

"O-of course!" He nodded, but I saw him take one paper out of his report and stuff it into his pocket. "Safety first!"

"Especially because jumping out of a great height could scare anyone, making them screw up." I continued without mentioning why I had a half-smile on my face while watching him. "Keep the Pass manned, though! Winter is not yet over, so don't bring away everyone, got it? Start with a handful of our guys."

"Of course! Then, I will go and prepare! I want to train our soldiers before spring arrives..."

"Don't rush them!" I warned him as he was leaving after putting his papers on my desk, "I won't cross the border the moment the snow melts. We have time, at least until the ground hardens and Mirian and Elliot's troops won't get stuck in the mud."

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The air, even at this height, was crisp and biting, reminding the soldiers it was still winter. Not that they could forget, thanks to the snowy fields, but since their latest victory in the Pass, no more monsters had come for the past two weeks. Instead, the Prime Minister arrived, asking for a handful of soldiers, unafraid of heights, to accompany him with a particular new invention and to test its usage.

At the moment, the chosen squad of soldiers stood on the edge of the Camelot airship’s main deck, staring down at the white expanse below. The snow-covered ground lay about twenty meters down—a safe enough height for the first test, they’d been assured. Still, as the wind howled around them, it didn’t feel safe.

“Alright, listen up!” Oberan, their captain, barked loudly, pacing in front of the group. His voice was gruff, but there was a hint of excitement in his tone, almost like a kid who wanted to try his new toy already. “We are going to be the first of our kind. Pioneers within our Sovereign's army! We all heard our Prime Minister, if he swears it’ll work, it will! If not…” He smirked, letting the sentence hang in the air. “At least the snow’s soft.”

A nervous chuckle rippled through the group. They didn't fear death... but jumping into its mouth without an enemy to beat was... still a weird feeling.

The gear their captain mentioned was a simple-looking backpack, way too light for most of them, making them forget they were even wearing it. Alongside it was the new tattoo etched onto their forearms—a circular pattern that seemed familiar as they saw the same type of runes on the tools of workers. Something that Avalon has been using for a really long time; the only difference is now there was no CC involved in it at all. When they were briefed, the idea was straightforward, at least on paper: pull on their backpack to slot the last part into place to activate the tattoo, and the pack’s anti-gravity magic would engage, slowing their fall enough to land safely. Simple. In theory.

"Hope this works..." Private Kellan muttered as he adjusted the straps of his pack for the hundredth time, his fingers trembling slightly. “Controlled falling, huh?” he looked at the soldier next to him, a burly man named Orik. “This feels more like a controlled death wish.”

“Relax,” Orik replied with a grin. “If it works, we’ll be legends. First-ever paratroopers, you heard the captain! Kids’ll be singing songs about us.”

“Yeah, if it works,” Kellan muttered under his breath.

“Alright, first group! Line up!” Oberan's voice cut through their murmurs. Kellan and four others shuffled forward, each trying to hide their nerves flaring up. With lowering their visors, at least, it became easy to not show it. Still, suddenly standing at the edge of the open section of the Camelot, they all felt they were much higher than it looked from the safety of the ship.

Merlin, of course, stood nearby, an eager glint in his eye and a stack of notes clutched in one hand, shielding it from the wind. He was not just here to see it work but to interfere if anything went awry.

“Remember,” he called out, speaking over the wind passing by, “activate the tattoo as you jump! Not before, not after. You’ll feel the weight lessen immediately. Trust the magic, and let it do its work. Easy, right?”

“Easy, he says... He is a mage...” Kellan muttered, eliciting a snort from Orik, kicking his shin from behind.

The first soldier stepped to the edge without any hesitation in his movement. He gave a simple thumbs-up to Oberan, then took a deep breath and leaped out of the Camelot. For a moment, everyone held their breath, looking over, watching him fall—then he pulled on his backpack, and the tattoo under his armor activated, and his descent slowed dramatically. Not long after, he landed safely in the snow, rolling once before standing back up, waving up at the others.

The moment it happened, a cheer went up among the soldiers, and even Kellan was clapping, suddenly no longer THAT afraid.

“See? Nothing to it!” Oberan barked, slapping the back of the nearest of his soldiers. “Next!”

One by one, they all jumped, each landing with similar success. Watching them all prevail, their confidence began to grow. By the time Kellan reached the edge, the knot in his stomach had significantly loosened, so he only took a deep breath and clenched his fists.

“Alright, Private,” Oberan said. “Show us what you’ve got.”

Kellan nodded, his fingers brushing over his arm, where the tattoo was. Then, without hesitation, he stepped off the edge—and panic surged as he fumbled with the puller for way too long.

“Uh-oh!” Merlin exclaimed from the deck, using his own magic to do it for him in time.

Kellan’s descent was anything but graceful. Merlin's spell kicked in just enough to slow him down but not enough to ensure a perfect landing. He hit the ground face-first, a burst of snow erupting around him like a small avalanche, leaving behind a comic hole in the snow outlying his body. At first, there was silence, but when they watched him dig himself out, uninjured, the soldiers on the deck erupted into laughter, even as Oberan shouted for silence.

“Private Kellan!” Oberan called down, trying to keep his voice steady. “Status report!”

“I’m alive!” Kellan sat up, responding via the radio, shaking snow down from his head and body. “Just… testing the snow’s durability, Captain.”

The laughter started up again, even louder this time.

“Noted! I expect a full-page report on its composition by tomorrow!” Oberan grumbled, smirking despite himself. He turned to the remaining soldiers. “Let that be a lesson: activate the damn backpack on time!”

“Nice landing, hero,” Kellan groaned when he heard the words, brushing snow off his helmet as Orik landed smoothly nearby from above. He was grinning like a wolf, his visor raised, teasingly offering a hand to pull him up.

“Shut up,” Kellan muttered, taking the hand and moaning in shame. “Controlled falling, my ass.”n/ô/vel/b//jn dot c//om

At the same time, up on the Camelot, Merlin was in deep thought, watching the soldiers repeat their exercise multiple times over.

“Margin of error… user timing… alright, alright, that’s fixable…” he scribbled something furiously in his notes, muttering to himself. "Thankfully, Leon was right to start at the right height... hm. I will need to write a proper instruction manual for tomorrow."

Despite the mishap, the test itself was a success. The first batch of paratroopers had officially proven the concept worked—mostly. And Kellan, snow-covered and slightly bruised, had earned himself the dubious honor of being the first to demonstrate what not to do, earning a spot in Merlin's Paratroopers' Manual.