The Protagonist's Party is Too Diligent

In the end, we won.

More than a third of the nobles' side were declared "dead," but none of the people in my group were. In fact, it wouldn’t have been surprising if more than half had been eliminated, but we managed to keep it down to a third, largely thanks to the magic that Mia Crowfield had cast.

The commoners were thrown into confusion by the sudden appearance of the blinding ball of light flying overhead. Even though they knew rationally that no truly dangerous magic would be used in this scenario, seeing it with their own eyes was an entirely different experience.

Moreover, the magic wasn’t just for show—it had a real effect by impairing their vision. As a result, most of the commoners who were taken out by gunfire were those who had charged in early on.

Of course, if they had been holding only swords when they jumped over the sandbags, more of them would have been eliminated. But the members of my group were all carrying shotguns.

The double-barrel shotguns we carried only had two rounds, but they were simple to fire, no need to pump between shots. Taking down an opponent right in front of you wasn’t difficult.

Once they fired, they would have drawn their swords immediately, and the commoners would have been even more startled.

Bayonet combat isn’t just about swordsmanship—it’s the fear of being slashed and the terror that comes with someone charging at you, weapon in hand. There was also the stereotype that nobles were skilled with swords, which would have contributed to the commoners' intimidation.

All in all, it wasn’t too hard for them to deal with the psychologically shaken commoners.

By the time I crossed over the sandbags, the nobles had already gained the upper hand.

I managed to take down two or three people, though not literally—since no one was actually hit by real bullets. It was all part of the mock battle.

“Your shooting was impressive,” Alice said after the battle was over.

“When we charged in, everyone was already hiding behind the sandbags. It seems they thought, ‘if I stick my head out, I’ll get shot.’”

To be honest, the fact that I already knew their positions helped a lot.

And I had rewound time every time I missed or when one of my allies got hit. To them, it must have looked like I was flawlessly taking people down one after another.

“Right,” I responded, nodding as Alice and I stood near the commoners' sandbags, chatting.

“But how exactly did you manage to hit anyone when the light was so blinding?” another voice interjected.

It was Jennifer.

Even though the light ball was made with magic, its range was limited. There was no way the entire commoners' side was hidden by it. From her high vantage point on the platform, Jennifer could still see most of the commoners, so she was able to call out when they were eliminated.

But for Jennifer, watching me hit the commoners with such accuracy must have looked strange.

“...”

“Hmm,” she hummed, clearly expecting an explanation.

The problem was, there was no way I could explain it. Telling her I could rewind time would be dangerous. While my classmates might laugh it off as a joke, Jennifer wasn’t the type to take things lightly. Even if she didn’t immediately believe me, she would keep it in mind as a possibility and investigate further.

Not just Jennifer—neither the emperor nor my other siblings would take it lightly either. That’s why I avoided telling anyone about my ability, even in jest.

“Well, no matter,” Jennifer said, crossing her arms and shrugging.

“Normally, I’d have a word or two to say about executing such a risky plan. From the outside, it looks like you were just charging in recklessly, relying on luck.”

...There really wasn’t any other way to do it, though.

It’s not like we had mortars or artillery. Besides, the distance between us was far too short for that. While we called them “trenches,” the situation was much closer to urban combat.

Jennifer had probably wanted to give us a taste of just how dangerous the battlefield could be.

That was her conclusion in the original game too. "In war, even luck can determine the outcome. Well done," she had said in the game. My memory of the exact wording was a bit hazy, but it was something like that.

“But your shooting...” Jennifer continued, eyeing me carefully.

“There’s no way you were just firing blindly. It looked like you knew exactly where they would be. So, calling it ‘luck’ wouldn’t be fair, would it?”

It was luck, though.

I had simply rewound time again and again, turning chance into certainty. Honestly, I probably fired more than just seven or eight bullets. Likely much more.

Every time one of my allies was eliminated, I rewound time and fired in every direction that seemed like a good guess.

This was another difference between practice and real combat. In this mock battle, without gunpowder, there was no way to hear where the shots were coming from. All I could do was rewind and pray that my shots would hit their mark.

If that’s not luck, what is?

Of course, I had no desire to see my favorite characters get hurt or actually die in a real fight.

“Thanks to you, my whole plan went up in smoke,” Jennifer said, glancing at the commoners with a slightly exasperated expression.

Her original intention had likely been to demonstrate that even commoners could take down nobles with firearms, but with the way things played out, the conclusion was that “nobles could turn the situation around, even against the odds.” Especially since the commoners had twice as many participants as the nobles.

Among the commoners, I spotted a few familiar faces—characters who had eventually become part of the protagonist's party in the original game. Some looked disheartened, but a few were watching us with interest.

Maybe I’ll strike up a conversation with them later.

I didn’t care whether they were commoners or nobles—some of my favorite characters were commoners, after all.

“Well, whatever. It’s not like commoners can’t become officers. If they think about it from that perspective, today’s battle will be a valuable lesson. They’ll learn that there are monsters on the battlefield with insane skills.”

That much was true.

In this world, there were plenty of people who could tear through battlefields with just a sword.

“In any case, those who lead their side to victory deserve a reward.”

With that, Jennifer reached into her jacket pocket.

Oh.

It seemed that instead of the typical in-game notification of “You received [item],” I was about to get my reward in person. It felt much more natural than having something just magically appear in my pocket.

“Here, take it.”

What Jennifer handed me was a gemstone, carved like a marble, with the deep red color of a ruby.

Marmaros.

The name came from the Greek word for marble, and like its name, the gemstone glowed softly with a magical red light. Anyone could tell it was infused with magical energy.

When I took the stone from Jennifer’s palm, it was warm to the touch—not uncomfortably hot, but pleasantly warm, like a pocket warmer in the dead of winter.

Though, of course, it was far too valuable to be used as a pocket warmer.

Marmaros is a refined mana stone. Most mana stones have mixed elemental properties, making them difficult to use for specific purposes. Stones with too many conflicting properties are usually used as fuel, but occasionally, you find one with almost pure elemental properties. These can be carefully refined and enhanced to safely channel magic, resulting in a marmaros.

In the original game, it was used to modify weapons, adding elemental effects or boosting damage.

It should work the same way here.

“This is a fire-element marmaros. It’s yours now. Use it however you like.”

I nodded in response.

In the late game, marmaros stones became quite common. You’d even find ones with two or three different elemental properties, and they were just as powerful as single-element ones. Of course, those were typically dropped by high-level monsters, not mined from the earth.

But for now, this one would be useful. In the game, time passed quickly, and you’d hit the late game before you knew it. But here, in the real world, one year was still one year.

“If you want, I can introduce you to a skilled craftsman. You’ll get your customized firearm back as well. Honestly, I’m curious to see how you’ll use that marmaros.”

...This wasn’t in the original game.

I had a good guess as to who the craftsman would be, though.

“Thank you,” I said, giving a slight bow to Jennifer.

“Yes,” I replied. “But I’m still thinking about which firearm would be best.”

I had noticed some differences between this world and the game. In the game, certain characters couldn’t use firearms or swords, but here, they seemed to handle both easily. That made me think the bullets would follow real-world physics.

In the game, you could slot a marmaros into a gun to add elemental effects to your shots. I’m sure I could do the same here.

But how exactly does a “fire-element” bullet work?

It didn’t seem like simply heating up the bullet would make much difference—the bullet is already hot when it fires.

Then again, making it too hot would be problematic. An overheated barrel could lead to weapon failure, and on the battlefield, a broken gun equals death. Even though I can rewind time, I’d rather not risk dying.

Besides, I’ve never actually died and rewound before. That first time? I’m not even sure if I died or just passed out.

So, unless absolutely necessary, I’d avoid any situation where I might die. “Absolutely necessary” would be if I died without even realizing it.

It would be best not to create that situation at all.

“I’ll take some time to think it over and figure out which gun would be most advantageous.”

“Well, you can reuse the marmaros later, right? So no need to worry too much,” Alice said.

...True. That’s a relief. In the original game, you could always remove a marmaros and slot it into another weapon, so I guess it’s the same here.

“...”

“...”

We continued walking in silence for a while.

There were six of us in the group—me, Alice, Claire, Leo, Charlotte, and Mia Crowfield.

Mia had ended up tagging along, looking incredibly awkward. Her discomfort seemed to be contagious because the rest of us had fallen silent too.

Nobles are usually good at reading the room, but—

“Oh, right!” Claire suddenly exclaimed, breaking the tension with a bright voice that didn’t match the mood.

“Why don’t we go to a cafe after class? I found a place with delicious parfaits the other day.”

“...Sure,” Alice quickly agreed, clearly relieved by the suggestion.

“Parfaits, huh? Lutetia has some excellent cafes, but... fine. It might be fun to compare them to the ones in Rondarium.”

The three of them then turned to look at me, Leo, and Mia Crowfield.

“...”

For a moment, none of us said anything.

Well, why not? I had no reason to refuse.

These were all characters I liked, after all. Not going would be disrespectful to my inner otaku.