"Hmm."

Jennifer was deep in thought, examining the firearms Lena and I had brought with us.

Even someone like Jennifer couldn’t skip classroom lessons entirely, so after our field assignments, we’d resumed lessons from textbooks. Today, however, was our first chance in a while to practice in a setting more like real combat, but our weapons weren’t exactly ideal for a “mock battle.”

Bolt-action rifles and shotguns posed no issue, as both require reloading after each shot or two. Anyone with a keen eye could observe from afar whether or not someone was trying to cheat.

The same went for my revolver. Since it’s a double-action model, the hammer visibly moves with each trigger pull.

But automatic pistols… unless a round is actually fired, they don’t move on their own. Unlike the revolver, there’s no hammer motion visible from the outside when the trigger is pulled. While the new automatic pistol created by the workshop master does have an external hammer, it’s a single-action model.

Asking us to perform a reload action after every shot with an automatic weapon, as if we were firing BB pellets, wouldn’t feel right in a “realistic” scenario.

Additionally, the range of reload scenarios—emptying the magazine and reloading, loading partially empty magazines, reusing partially spent magazines—created an endless variety of situations.

To make things more complicated, neither Lena nor I use only one weapon. Lena dual-wields automatic pistols, while I use an automatic pistol, a revolver, a rifle, and a shotgun.

Even remembering all these details would be a challenge for anyone, not to mention that we use custom-made Marmaross bullets. Determining whether we were eliminated or not would be nearly impossible.

"…."

After a long silence, Jennifer finally spoke.

"…I think it’s best that the two of you practice separately over the weekends."

Ugh.

---

"Meyer’s weapon is familiar enough, but the one you’re using is new to me."

Well, it’s a prototype. It didn’t even have any markings on the slide since it hadn’t been officially named yet.

"Did you get it from the workshop master?"

"Yes."

I nodded, and Jennifer nodded back.

"The ammunition is new as well. Last time I visited, he seemed busy working on something; it must have been this gun."

"…."

I didn’t say much. I was only answering to this extent because it was Jennifer asking, but in truth, I’d received the gun on the condition that I wouldn’t share too many details with others.

News of my actions on the battlefield had only just reached the capital. Since reliability under all conditions is a primary criterion for military firearms, it was understandable why the workshop master entrusted this gun to me. He likely wanted to test it through someone who would put it through plenty of use in diverse conditions.

Additionally, since this pistol was only available at Browning’s workshop, any repairs would require me to take it back to him. If it malfunctioned, he’d know why; if it jammed, he’d find out what caused it.

"Well, alright. I know the workshop master’s skills well enough, and if you picked this gun yourself, it should be fine."

I accepted the gun Jennifer handed back to me and nodded.

"I’m familiar with the Model 98 as well. I may look like this now, but I was once stationed on the northern battlefield."

At Jennifer’s words, Lena nodded as well.

"Alright, I’ve been thinking of ways to evaluate your skills…."

Jennifer shrugged, then addressed us both.

"Since the two of you are using weapons that are practically meaningless without live rounds, I figured it would make sense to use live ammunition for the test."

She pointed to a structure made from stacked logs… it was hard to say whether it was a trench or a building. Either way, it was something like that.

It wasn’t dug into the ground, but built above ground to make it easy to enter. Though it was designed to resemble an actual trench with an interior and side spaces to duck into, as well as room-like sections. It wasn’t too big, occupying just one corner of the training grounds, but once inside, it would likely take at least a minute to cross from one side to the other.

"From above, you can see the entire interior."

Jennifer looked oddly pleased as she said this.

And it was impressive—building such a training ground in just two days was no small feat.

Though it looked like a trench from a world war, its purpose was much like that of a modern shooting range.

"This way, other students can use it too."

The absence of anything like this in the original story was likely due to the lack of “nobles” who would train with firearms, making it unnecessary.

If it weren’t for Lena and me, this place probably wouldn’t even exist.

"We’ll be using live rounds, but are both of you alright with that? Oh, but no Marmaross bullets. Let’s not waste the effort put in by the workers over these last two days."

"…."

Fair enough.

Even if they were paid to build it, it would still be disappointing to see it all go up in flames after a single use.

---

Lena went in first.

With a magazine holding eight rounds and one in the chamber, she had more than enough ammunition. Her opponents were just wooden panels that sprung up thanks to springs, so it wasn’t particularly dangerous.

I’d wondered how they managed to make the targets pop up in a world without electricity, but it turned out each one was wound up with a spring mechanism that would release them when triggered… making Jennifer’s request not to use Marmaross make even more sense. The whole setup looked expensive and fragile for what it was meant to do.

It also wasn’t ideal for multiple students, since resetting each target manually would take time.

"I’ll be sure to learn as much as I can."

While I was thinking this, Lena turned to me.

"…."

Surprised, I glanced over at her and saw her eyes brimming with determination.

"It may not be exactly like the battlefield where you fought, Your Highness, but I think this will still be a valuable opportunity to witness even a fragment of it."

"…."

She wasn’t trying to tease me with that comment, was she?

Judging by her earnest gaze, it didn’t seem likely.

"Oh, is that so?"

And right then, Jennifer, who had finished setting everything up, spoke.

"In that case, you’re welcome to observe from up there."

"Really?"

"…."

I gave Jennifer a long look, but she merely shrugged in response.

---

Alright, fine.

I had my own plan in mind.

If Lena’s character is all about the romantic image of firearms, what kind of character should I be?

Not the opposite of romantic, but maybe "tactical" could work.

The extreme practicality of tactical skills can even become its own form of romance, can’t it? Like, say, someone like John *you-know-who*. Although, that character is fantastical in a different way.

In short, if I looked "believable" enough, that would do. This was the transition point from line infantry to modern warfare, so I could employ modern shooting techniques.

For example…

*Click.*

A spring-loaded target popped up, with two panels appearing simultaneously.

I fired at one of them with a shotgun. Since it wasn’t my personal Marmaross-loaded shotgun, but a school-issued one, standard rounds went out.

But a shotgun’s still a shotgun, even if it’s not custom-made. I had enough replacement parts with me to modify it just a bit.

As I shot down one target, I let the now-empty shotgun hang on its sling. The strap, mounted just in front of the shotgun stock, hung down slightly. Unlike the typical rifle slings in this world that connect the ends of the gun, my strap was a sling-back style over my shoulder and neck, so it didn’t hang all the way down and stopped just below my chest, making it easy to grab again.

Quickly, I dropped my right hand and drew my pistol from my hip holster.

With both hands on the pistol,

*Bang! Bang!*

I fired two shots at the target’s chest.

Then, I advanced.

For each successive target, I fired two shots, reloaded the empty magazine with seven more rounds, holstered the pistol, and slipped into the spot where the previous targets had appeared.

On my right thigh holster, I had shotgun rounds arranged in twos—six shells in total.

Taking out two shells, I loaded them directly into the chamber.

Repeating the action twice, I loaded the shotgun, stepped out, and fired a quick shot at the next two targets.

…And just like that, I reached the end of the range.

"Hoo."

With a small sigh, I looked up.

Jennifer was watching me with a smile. I wasn’t sure what kind of expression it was, but—

—at least Lena was staring at me wide-eyed in awe.

Looks like all that nagging I did to the workshop master over the past two days to get this gear made paid off.

The sleepless nights practicing reloads and drills were worth it.

…And the secret training I did last night, sneaking into the finished range to run and drill alone, too.