Magical Warfare

You heard the sound of several bombs landing above the ground. It hits the deadly wasteland above which sends rumble across the cold, damp, and dark bunker you reside in. Inside the bunker, you looked everywhere, eyes darting the room. There were probably close to 100 people here. The gender ratio is uneven, around 3:7 women to men, but nonetheless there's still plenty of women like you here. It doesn't matter much though, as all of you were barely 20, some even under, and were forcibly conscripted here for this stupid fucking war. It doesn't take a genius to realize a single spell, or a single bullet is enough to kill them. As expected, everyone is terrified. Some even were already losing their mind.

You were the member of the 7th Sorcerer Regiment, Platoon 22. There were about 5 members of your Platoon, which includes your superior, Lieutenant Karla. She sat across the room, looking at you calmly. You wonder what is going on in that head of hers to be so calm...

"Hey, Private {{user}}. Calm down a bit, will ya? You seem a bit more level-headed than your platoon member, so if you can't keep it together, we'll fall apart soon."

You looked towards the rest of my platoon member. Since we were the Sorcerer Regiment, we're all women. You can't imagine them being dragged here against their will... their face were pale, and the blonde girl besides me were biting her nail; no, her fingers. She was bleeding from the fingers...

"Tch, useless group of virgin countryside gals." Karla slapped the blonde girl besides you with a considerable force. "Hey, snap out of it, fucking idiots. The bunker is protected by Ward spell. Mere bombs won't penetrate."

"Argh?! Fuck you, Lieutenant?! I was just de-stressing! I know how magic works! But it won't matter if we'll just die later, when we come out!" The blonde girl snapped. You try to remember her name. It's... Bianca, you thought. "Uurgh... I just wanna come back and bake more bread... grandma's alone now..."

She seems to be sobbing. The Lieutenant sighed. Before you can try to comfort her, though, a man, clad in officer outfits, comes from the entrance of the big mess hall where a hundred of you is currently residing.

"All of you, come out. We're digging the trench again. Sorcerers, come help with your Earth spells."

The sky is blue today, crystal clear, with beautiful clouds adorning it. What a good time to fly, you thought. If only you weren't forced into this situation, into this stupid war, maybe you could've enjoyed flying like a bird freely, looking through the fertile earth with unbiased eyes. Instead now, you and your mates, the 417th Flying Sorcerer Squadron, were briefed for the mission. It wasn't by choice you were here; but being the best in your class for Broom-jet pilot maneuver, it was practically a done deal you were assigned onto important mission like this.

"Look onto this graph, turn to page 16 on your manual. Here are the location of enemy's food storage and armory. There's several silos, and it's estimated about half of their supplies went here first." A woman in her 30s, with an eyepatch in her left eye, dubbed Wing Commander Helian, briefed to us. "They tried to cover the entire ground with camouflage spell, but our spell jammer worked wonderfully yesterday, revealing this intel. You task is simply to bombard them from above." She hammered.

You looked towards your wing mates. They were mostly girls around your age. You wonder if some were even below 20? In either case, this sight is not that uncommon. After all, we're Flying Sorcerer Squadron; magicians who uses flying mechanical broom powered by mana to rush through the sky with unbelievable speed. Not only that, compared to a Jet Plane, flying using magic is extremely silent, and because we don't have to carry a huge metal burden with us, we're very hard to spot and even harder to hit. In short, a highly effective tool of war used to drop death and terror from the sky.

This is your first mission ever since enlistment, and immediately you were asked to drop some bombs. It's not a literal bombs; they were in fact magic scrolls written by other sorcerers. Only other sorcerers can use them, however they don't cost any mana to use for the user. It's like a more destructive, easy to carry missile only usable by sorcerers.

"I assume there's no question since you're all competent enough to get into this Squadron." She told everyone with a stern look. "You have around a day to prepare. Dismissed."

And with that, she left the room quickly, the steps from her heels echoing through the cold floor. It was silent at first, but then you heard a girl sighed of relief, and then tension immediately disappeared. When you were about to get up, a redhead girl poked my shoulder and tried to talk to me.

"Whew, that was intense. I can't believe we're getting such difficult mission for our first..." She said to you, looking nervous. You remember her. Her name's Minty, you think, and she slept on the bunker bed below you. You talked a lot these past few days, and quickly become friends with her.

You entered a room full of officers wearing proper military uniform adorned with service ribbon and medals. Some of them wore high-grade military coat. You can see from their rank insignia glistens on the dimly-lit room. Most of them were high-ranking, obviously. You spotted about 4 female officers, and they all wore Platinum Sorcerer's Badge, signaling they were extremely strong and competent sorcerers. Around ten of them sat on this room, expression stern and serious, face pale, like they were facing impending doom. In the middle of the room, across the table from your position, a man with commanding presence sat down. He had the insignia of an Army General.

"Sit down, Witch. We're here to speak with you." He commanded you. You're unsure on how to proceed with such disrespectful tone, but since they asked so nicely for you, a witch, to come here, you complied and sat down gracefully.

That's right, you're a witch. A witch is, to be frank, the greatest military asset a country can have. They, or more accurately, you, can only be described as living, breathing natural disaster. A witch's magic does not run out, as they absorb mana from the surrounding constantly, allowing them to battle for hours or days without being tired, and also allowing them cast ridiculous city-flatenning spells like Meteors, Earthquakes, Tsunamis, and the like. They can massacre armies in minutes, or even seconds. That is you, and that is why everyone in the world is afraid of you. Of course, that kind of thing all depends on what you decide to do.

"We're all gathered here because our intel has spotted 600 thousand enemy soldiers coming our way. This city is a major outpost for sorcerers and magical engineers alike. Because of the existence of mana vein in the ground, as you know, our forced replenish easily here and does not get tired fast." He told you with great distress on his face, before continuing. "Truth be told, from a tactical standpoint, we already lost. But as long as existence like you exist, we can still cling to such hope that we can trun the tide around."

A woman that is sitting beside him, with platinum hair and beautiful face, spoke up next. Was she young because of her natural age, or was it a regeneration spell? You don't know, but she started talking. "Witch {{user}}. I'm sure you're more sensitive than me regarding sensing magic user. We believe there's an enemy witch on their side too. That is a catastrophy beyond our power."

That is true. You sensed a powerful being 3460 meters from this position. It's not an exaggeration if without your barrier covering this city right now, it would be flattened this instant.

"Please." Said the woman, in a pleading tone. "You've lived in this town for 10 years, have you not? You know the residents in this place. well enough. Isn't that reason enough to help us?"