Two days later, the plan Nangong had submitted finally received a response.
The illegible script penned by the esteemed Lieutenant Colonel, further complicated by its traditional characters, became as incomprehensible as a celestial tome.
Lin Yu, while grumbling, couldn’t help but inwardly mock such an overly scholarly mode of expression.
“This matter is of great import… your patriotic fervor is commendable… why would the Lieutenant Colonel write in such a style?”
After an arduous struggle to decipher the letter, Lin Yu turned to Nangong, who was tinkering with a wall clock.
“He is, after all, a scholar who passed the imperial examinations (TL Note: ‘Keju’ or ‘科举’ refers to the civil service examination system in imperial China, used to select officials.) with flying colors; you could simply understand it as a matter of scholarly integrity.”
She removed the clock’s back cover, revealing the shimmering magical array inscribed within.
‘Imperial examinations, scholarly integrity.’
‘To her in her previous life, these two terms were exceedingly distant, separated by at least a century.’
‘Yet, given that Diacla in this lifetime still had an emperor, the existence of “imperial examinations” was hardly a surprising notion.’
Placing the letter on the table, Lin Yu swiftly consumed her bowl of congee and pickled vegetables.
She then stretched her waist, preparing to depart for the logistics area.
In the letter, the recipient had tentatively approved Lin Yu’s plan and commended her for offering strategies to the nation.
There was, however, a minor issue: this particular front line lacked anyone proficient in Lanfosian.
Regardless of whether they employed hometown dialects for psychological warfare or blanketed the enemy with propaganda leaflets, the red-clad soldiers on the opposite side needed to understand it.
If they played incomprehensible music or distributed unreadable leaflets, the enemy would likely grow exasperated and respond with bullets and cannon fire.
“Wait a moment.”
Nangong reached out, catching the hem of Lin Yu’s shirt.
“There’s something I need to confirm with you,” she stated.
“Hm?”
Nangong gestured for Lin Yu to lean closer, and their gazes converged on the very center of the magical array on the clock’s reverse side.
A translucent crystal, smaller than a fingernail, was nestled within a groove; with a press from Nangong, it sprang out.
The array’s light instantly faded, and the perpetually ticking wall clock fell silent.
“Did you feel anything?”
“Hm?”
She pressed the small magic stone back into its groove, and the array’s patterns once again emitted a faint blue glow, while the clock’s ticking resumed.
“And now?”
‘The wall clock is powered by a magic stone; Nangong is simply swapping out the “battery,” isn’t she…’
Lin Yu shook her head. “Normally, what would one feel?”
“There should be a slight tingling sensation,” Nangong explained. “If you don’t feel it, it proves you’re like me…”
“This test is supposed to be administered to every new recruit upon enlistment, but as you know, your method of entry was rather unconventional.”
Nangong closed the clock’s back cover and sat facing Lin Yu.
“This proves that, like me, you possess the aptitude to become a mage.”
“Didn’t you already know this…?”
‘Only a few days prior, Nangong had already taught her magic—the “Miracle of Healing”—which Lin Yu had even practiced on her own wounds.’
‘Nangong had long since discovered Lin Yu’s magical talent, so why the sudden mention now?’
“It wasn’t significant before, but now it has become critically important,” Nangong clarified.
She retrieved a fountain pen from the tabletop and handed another sheet of paper to Lin Yu.
“Yesterday, His Majesty issued an imperial decree, commanding a nationwide screening for individuals with magical aptitude, particularly within the army.”
“Even irregular units like ours are to undergo a comprehensive top-to-bottom screening.”
“What do they need so many magic-users for?”
“Indeed, what do they need so many for? I don’t know, nor does the esteemed Lieutenant Colonel; perhaps only His Majesty himself knows.”
‘The presence of mages in modern warfare was gradually diminishing.’
‘Rifle bullets were faster, more accurate, and deadlier than magic arrows, and enchanted artillery shells boasted greater power and longer range than even a Fireball spell.’
‘Among the various spells they mastered, only healing magic remained currently irreplaceable; all others had either an equal or superior alternative within the military.’
“Perhaps it’s connected to the previous imperial decree for a large-scale recruitment of medics,” Nangong mused.
“That’s why I wanted to tell you in advance: if they come investigating here, do not reveal any details about your magical abilities.”
“You once inadvertently mentioned to me that rifles produce very little sound, and if the muzzle flash could be eliminated, concealed sniping would be possible, right?”
Upon hearing Nangong’s words, Lin Yu meticulously recalled their casual conversations over the past month.
It seemed she had indeed offhandedly remarked on it one day while discussing the snipers in the opposing trenches.
‘At the time, she had secretly delighted in having conceived the idea of a “silencer.”’
“Yes… yes, I did say that.”
“That is your greatest characteristic as a ‘mage’,” Nangong emphasized.
“Remember this, Lin Yu: any magical artifact, when activated or deactivated, emits magical fluctuations.”
“These fluctuations cause a slight stimulation to ordinary people.”
Nangong proceeded to enlighten Lin Yu on this world’s “common knowledge.”
“So,” Lin Yu began, turning her head to scan the pile of miscellaneous items, where the rifle missing a bullet still rested.
“The battlefield is brimming with… magical fluctuations?”
“Precisely. When the fighting is intense, both inside and outside the trenches, countless rifles firing simultaneously create ripples like towering tsunamis.”
“Prolonged exposure to this stimulation can lead to mental abnormalities. Many have already succumbed to illnesses because of it.”
‘Only now did she learn of such a crucial matter: rifles in this other world were not silent; it was merely her constitution that prevented her from perceiving that “sound.”’
‘Yet, in a war of such ferocity, human lives were mere expendables, and no one concerned themselves with a soldier’s mental state.’
‘Even if a private went mad due to magical fluctuations, countless others would fill the void.’
‘Diacla lacked coal, mages, alchemical solvents, and heavy magical machinery.’
‘Advancing towards modernization, Diacla was deficient in everything but people.’
‘How many mages could be screened from two hundred million Diaclan citizens?’
‘What impact would their full deployment into the war have on the current situation?’
‘Lin Yu did not dwell on such thoughts; she abhorred war and merely wished to remain in this tent, healing the sick and saving lives.’
“Is there any way to deceive the test?”
“Not currently, but we can intercept the test results,” Nangong replied.
She rapidly filled in Lin Yu’s personal information on a form, where a row of circles in the adjacent “Magical Aptitude” box stood out prominently.
Nangong tucked the paper amidst a thick stack of medical records.
“You’ve already undergone the test; it’s just that the form was accidentally misplaced and couldn’t be successfully reported.”
‘Lin Yu’s name was thus mingled by Nangong among a multitude of men’s names.’
“This way, you can remain here and avoid being transferred to other units.”
‘Another act of deception, a stratagem to keep Lin Yu within this tent.’
‘Perhaps being noticed by the Lieutenant Colonel and being transferred to another unit amounted to the same outcome for Nangong, which was why she exerted such effort to keep her here.’
‘What more could she say?’
“Thank you…”
‘No amount of gratitude could truly convey the depth of her feelings; without Nangong, she would likely have perished long ago in the sewage-filled trenches.’
Donning the small white cap of a medic, Lin Yu rose from the table.
“Just one last thing—” Nangong called out, stopping her again, and then gently removed her cap.
“Your hairstyle, it’s one that only girls wear. You’ll need a different style to meet the Lieutenant Colonel.”
Only after her hair was undone and restyled into a masculine cut with assistance was Lin Yu finally released from the tent, making her way towards the logistics area.