The Protagonist’s Party is Too Diligent – 58
EP.58 Forced Training (1)
Spring had arrived. The once chilly weather had grown considerably warmer, to the point where it was no longer necessary to wear the coat I had draped over my shoulders. Even though I had been wearing it like a cape, the sun’s warm rays made the inside of the coat feel like a sauna.
Perhaps because the game’s world was designed by a Japanese game company from a country known for its distinct four seasons, the weather quickly became hot as soon as winter ended. Well, it was the same in the country I lived in. Just when you think it might cool down, the bitter cold would hit, leaving you no choice but to pull out the long winter coat from the back of the closet without even getting a chance to wear the autumn clothes you’d bought.
Although this time, it was the opposite situation.
In truth, part of the reason I felt a bit hotter was because I had kept the winter fur lining attached to my coat longer than necessary. But… that couldn’t be helped. It looked cool. And it wasn’t just for show; it was made from genuine, high-quality animal fur, which was why I had kept it on.
It had not yet been a full month since I had entered the academy, but I had already managed to adapt quite well. Even though it had been a long time since I’d attended school, I adjusted quickly, likely due to the sense of familiarity I felt toward the people around me. Perhaps it was because I had seen them so often while playing the game, but even though I hadn’t known them for long, it felt as if we had been acquainted for years.
Of course, the characters I had interacted with in the game were low-poly models with poor textures, only spitting out pre-programmed lines. Comparing those characters to the real people around me might be a bit unfair.
Anyway.
Even when I first enrolled, the fields were already sprouting green grass, but now they had grown even lusher, painting the area in a vibrant green. Dotted among the grass were colorful flowers whose names I didn’t know, adding to the beauty of the scene.
And there, standing in the middle of that beautiful field, I…
“Sigh.”
I let out a deep sigh.
I had come outside to test the fire-attribute Marmaros I had received from Jennifer as a reward two weeks ago. I went to the craftsman that Jennifer introduced me, and he was indeed skilled. He was well-skilled, but…
“You want to use such a high-quality Marmaros in a firearm?”
The craftsman had looked at me as if I were some kind of eccentric when he said that.
“Is that not possible?”
I glanced down at the Ergansen rifle I had placed on the table as I asked.
Although I had used the gun for quite some time, its condition wasn’t bad at all—in fact, it was in excellent condition. I had fired tens of thousands of rounds with it during practice, but since I would always reset time after training, it had essentially only been used when absolutely necessary. As a result, the rifle remained in superb shape, enough to make any battlefield soldier scoff in disbelief.
“No… it’s not that.”
The young man, who had a thin, nearly closed-eyed look about him, scratched the back of his head with a gloved hand. If he weren’t wearing a craftsman’s apron, he might have looked like a hidden boss in some demon king’s army.
“Since it’s a firearm, after all. Isn’t this kind of modification unnecessary? Wouldn’t it be better to enhance the barrel and adjust the gunpowder amount in the bullets instead? Typically, Marmaros is far more effective when attached to melee weapons like swords or spears,” the craftsman said.
In the game, it was simply an enhancement that increased attack power by a few percentage points or allowed the use of specific magic, but reality seemed to be slightly different. According to what I’d heard, when used in close combat, the weapon could be followed by flames, or the temperature of the weapon itself could drop so drastically that a victim could suffer frostbite in an instant—quite terrifying.
“How much damage do you think a bullet could do?”
The craftsman asked.
“……”
Hmm…
“Would it be possible for the bullet to cause a small explosion upon impact?” I asked.
“If such bullets existed, the military would already be using them, wouldn’t they?” he replied.
That made sense.
Of course, even in this era, there were large-caliber rifles. Back when tank armor was similar to that of armored cars, soldiers had fought in ‘anti-tank battles’ with absurdly large rifles. There were also high-explosive incendiary rounds used for machine guns. Wait, was that during World War I? Hmm, I wasn’t exactly sure about the history of firearms development. And I wasn’t certain if such rounds would even be used for sniping.
“Can it be removed once attached?”
“Ah, that is possible, but…”
The young craftsman looked at me cautiously.
“There will be an additional charge for removal. Is that acceptable?”
“Yes, that’s fine.”
“Then, I’ll give it a try.”
Though puzzled, the craftsman eventually took my rifle and the Marmaros and headed into the workshop.
And as for the result…
I went out to a mostly deserted street to test it. Thanks to the Marmaros mounted under the muzzle, right where the wooden handguard ended, my bullets were now unmistakably set ablaze.
It wasn’t just a physical fire either—it was magical. The flaming bullets flew straight toward their target and embedded deep within it, leaving a burn.
Sure, it could help cause infections in wounds. For standard infantry, this could be useful. The problem was that Marmaros was an incredibly expensive item for something so mediocre. If a bullet hit, it would usually be life-threatening regardless of where it struck. If it didn’t kill outright, a minor burn wouldn’t be much of an issue since magic could easily heal it. Of course, for ordinary soldiers who couldn’t afford magical treatment, it could be quite terrifying.
But given my abilities, I’d be dealing with high-value targets, and unless a shot killed them instantly, this function seemed pointless. There was no use in further scorching a brain that had already been blown to pieces.
I now understood why the military hadn’t standardized the use of Marmaros in firearms and why neither the Emperor nor my siblings had ever recommended it to me. That ceremonial sword was probably made using a Marmaros, too.
“Again.”
Feeling oddly satisfied, I reset the time.
*
A single round in a rifle might not make much of a difference when set on fire, but with a shotgun, it could be a different story. After all, incendiary shotgun rounds existed in reality, and a firearm that sprayed flames like a single-shot flamethrower seemed highly practical. Especially in a world where trench warfare was the standard.
“Are you headed to the battlefield?” the craftsman seemed to think so, as he widened his thin eyes and asked me.
“I might.”
In the original story, the plot was more focused on preventing the war from escalating behind the scenes rather than fighting in the middle of the battlefield. However, that didn’t mean the characters never ended up on the front lines.
“I see…” the craftsman responded, his voice trailing off.
My reputation for my abilities wasn’t widely known—at least not in terms of absolute numbers. Some nobles were aware of it, but commoners outside the imperial palace didn’t know much. Jennifer had already informed the craftsman that I was a “princess,” but that was the extent of his knowledge about who I really was.
“Are you planning to enlist as an officer?” he asked, picking up the shotgun and Marmaros I’d provided earlier without much hesitation.
“I’m not sure yet.”
I answered vaguely.
*
“It’s done.”
When I returned a few hours later, the craftsman presented the modified shotgun.
Just like with the rifle, the Marmaros had been installed at the front of the tube magazine unique to the shotgun. It didn’t seem like it would interfere with disassembly or maintenance, as the Marmaros-equipped part was detachable. You had to unscrew it, but at least it wasn’t an overly clunky addition. In fact, it looked like it had always been part of the weapon, which I found quite satisfying.
“Um… I don’t mean to overstep,” the craftsman began to speak cautiously as I examined the finished shotgun, turning it over to check its condition. When I looked up at him, he flinched slightly but continued speaking,
“The battlefield is a truly terrible place. If you’re going in search of honor or some romantic notion of it… well, you might want to reconsider.”
I looked at the craftsman for a moment before asking.
“Did you serve in the war?”
“Yes, I did,” he replied.
I already knew this, of course. He had a character card in the original story.
Though he walked normally, one of his legs was a prosthetic. It was an incredibly expensive one, a gift from Jennifer, who had served in the same company. It was said to be a marvel of craftsmanship, with countless gears and springs, moving via a wind-up mechanism that automatically coiled with each step. There was also a side quest related to this item later on.
“……I see.”
I slung the shotgun over my shoulder as I spoke.
“I’ll keep that in mind.”
I saluted the retired soldier as a sign of respect while speaking to him, which seemed to make the craftsman extremely uncomfortable. Well, he wasn’t a bad person, after all.
The northern battlefield had its justification—protecting civilians and supporting the legitimate government of the Autonomous State of Rickland. They had even asked for assistance. It wasn’t a full-blown war yet, and veterans were still being treated with respect… for now. But the tides of war would change in time.
Most of the soldiers currently on the front lines had probably enlisted with some romantic notion of war, only to be quickly disillusioned by its harsh reality.
Leaving the uncomfortable retired soldier behind, I exited the workshop.
*
Back at the same road from earlier.
When I returned to my previous spot, a few beasts were roaming around again.
Earlier, I had shot them from a distance, but now I was armed with a shotgun. The spread of the pellets had some range, so I could still get a feel for the Marmaros’ power even from a bit farther away. However, it wouldn’t perform at its best unless I was up close, where the raw firepower directly from the muzzle could hit.
“Grrr…”
This beast wasn’t as enormous as the elemental poison creature from before, but it wasn’t something an unarmed person could safely approach either.
If it stood on its hind legs, it would probably reach up to my chest. Maybe even taller than me if you included its long ears. It had a muscular frame, bulky on both sides. If I tried fighting it barehanded, I probably wouldn’t survive.
It was a rabbit… technically. A really vicious, oversized rabbit.
…How was it even possible for such a monster to live so close to a road frequented by regular people? Well, at least it wasn’t brazenly strolling down the middle of the road like in the game. Small mercies, I guess.
“Grrrr…”
…A rabbit shouldn’t be growling like that.
Click.
I aimed the shotgun at the rabbit.
“Raaaah!”
With a snarl that was anything but rabbit-like, it propelled itself toward me with powerful hind legs.
Immediately, I pulled the trigger—
Bang!
“Ughack!?”
—I flinched as a massive burst of flames shot out from the gun.
The fire surged ahead, covering about three or four meters in front of me.
Thud.
The rabbit, charging toward me, fell to the ground after being struck by the twelve burning pellets.
Its fur was charred black.
A burnt meat smell filled the air.
“……”
Uh… well.
Yeah, I think I understand why Marmaros isn’t typically used in shotguns.