Incredible lightshows were still going on in the upper airzone when the others pulled back, and it was without much preamble that Aziz and Marie headed over to the First Aerial to check on their status. The first person they saw as they approach was Major Hans, who was sitting on a rooftop and staring down at Thunderbolt’s battalion square.

“Status?” Aziz asked, as he and Marie touched down beside him.

“Very light casualties,” said the major. He paused for a moment. “But a lot of us aren’t taking that fact well, I’m afraid.”

“Someone was killed?” Marie asked, her voice quiet.

“Yes,” Hans replied, looking down on the battalion square. His gaze swivelled over to the other battalion squares, where similar congregations had gathered around in silence. “There were a few Knight-rank demons hiding in the lower airzone. We took care of them, but I guess having a legend of invincibility has major implications on one’s caution.”

“It’s unrealistic to expect any unit to remain at full strength in times of war,” said Aziz. “Thunderbolt’s zero-casualty legend might have done more harm than good, especially in times like this. In battles of such a scale, even the marshal and I are not guaranteed to survive; it is natural that people would die.”

“Everyone became arrogant, after Thunderbolt managed to hold the line without deaths last night,” said Hans. “A façade of invulnerability. How pathetic.”

The self-loathing in Hans’ voice was disturbing, but Aziz made no move to console him. It was true. Even years back, when the First Aerial was just a tiny Thunderbolt Company, they had never sustained deaths. Injuries, yes. Deaths, however, were literally non-existent. All this, however, was just a string of good luck and an overwhelming technological and doctrinal advantage.

Faced with an immortal foe, with numbers so overwhelming that equipping them was probably a harsher strain, deaths were inevitable, even amongst the elite of the elite.

“That’s how it should be,” said Marie.

Aziz glanced at her. “Ma’am?”

“War begets death. One reason why the Republic has been so belligerent in foreign policy is because our forces haven’t suffered casualties,” said Marie. “Drunk off an ever-victorious army, the State Council has adopted very confrontational approaches with what they viewed as a weakened Southern Assembly. We ostensibly stay neutral in the conflict between Ark City and the Assembly, but behind the scenes…”

“There’s such a thing?” Aziz asked. “Why am I not aware of it?”

“You’ll have to be studying the Republic’s subtle interactions with the Assembly to pick up on that,” said Marie. “Why else would the latter be so ready to treat us as expendable troops?”

“Wasn’t that because of past enmities?”

“That, yes. But the threat of the First Aerial is a very real one to the Assembly. We’re an elite force, one instrumental to their defeat in the liberation wars…and I believe that Minister Pauline has been waving our name around like a hammer.” The marshal’s words were half-amused, half-resigned. “Of course, she did not explicitly confirm that, but those being threatened were very happy to share that fact with me.”

“That’s ridiculous,” Hans, who had been silent, spoke. “We’re sworn to protect our people, not to be used as a blackmail chip.”

“To Pauline, one might as well be the other,” said Marie. “Sometimes, I find myself thinking. If we hadn’t done that well in the liberation war, would the Assembly be less keen to trip us up? I’m not sure.”

“Depending on the commander, I’d wager.” Aziz glanced skywards, where the battle between the Demigods and the Paragons were still on-going. The view from here was somewhat warped, since there was actually a transparent barrier that protected the skies of the Heaven-cleaving Fortress, but it just made the lightshow better.

“Anyway, the fighting’s ended everywhere but in the upper airzone, but the Demon Sovereign hasn’t showed up,” Marie noted glumly.

“Is there any point to showing up?”

“Better that we know where he is, rather than to have him be like a sword dangling above our heads,” Marie replied. “If he had appeared, there wouldn’t be a need to keep any reserve forces, would there? We would have ended this a lot faster.”

The rhythmic fire of the Heaven-cleaving Fortress’s artillery abruptly came to a halt, and the myriad shimmering lights that had been contending for attention with the sun faded away moments later. Clearly, the cessation of fire was a signal to the Five Lands’ Paragons and Demigods to cease battle and retreat.

Battle had ended, but even a single casualty was one too many, in the face of the immortal demons.

Sighing, Aziz got Hans to go back to Thunderbolt Battalion. Sitting around and moping was a privilege for after the war, not during it, and his prolonged absence would only serve to chill the hearts of the survivors. As the commanding officer of Thunderbolt, the major had to be there to preside over the funeral proceedings.

Even if he couldn’t bring himself to. Even if he couldn’t stop his tears from flowing.

Aziz watched as the grieving commander fled from the rooftop. “Does anyone truly get over loss?”

“It’s the nature of all life to grieve over death,” Marie replied, her words distant. “No matter how many times you see it.”

The colonel nodded his head. “I would wish that this would never happen again, but as the days go by, more and more of us would fall in battle. The only thing we can do is to fight with all our might.”

“To resist an encroaching end.” Marie shook her head. “Those fools, who treat us as chess pieces to be moved and discarded…at what point will they finally see that this is no time for infighting?”

“Who knows?” Aziz replied.

“Who knows, indeed.” The marshal let out a heavy sigh that struck at his spirit, and then took to the skies. “I’ll go handle the aftermath at the main headquarters.”

“Very well, ma’am. I’ll go check up on the other officers,” said Aziz.

“…Thank you.” Marie smiled gently. “I’ll get you a drink after we knock off.”

“I’m looking forward to it.”