86 - Volume 6 - Chapter 3

CHAPTER 3 

SHOOT THE MOON 

The United Kingdom’s offensive was set to begin soon. This estimation was shared by all Legion set along the United Kingdom’s front lines. Just as the Eintagsfliege were being constantly deployed over the Legion’s territories to obfuscate their movements from the human side, the United Kingdom also kept its internal affairs and military operations hidden from the enemy. 

And yet there was an increase in communications, as well as an increase in the volume of equipment and manpower being shifted around and in the transfer of units. Those were signs of an incoming attack, and they were hard to hide. 

It happened on the second front, where the 1st Armored Corps used to be stationed. The United Kingdom attempted an offensive, but a retreat forced them back to this region, meaning they would have to attack here once again if they were to stand a chance. As such, the Legion increased their watch over the area and augmented their numbers as they lay in wait. Their intent was to crush the incoming attack just as they had before. 

And should the human forces not launch an attack, the Legion would break through the Dragon Corpse mountain range and unleash a final offensive on the United Kingdom. 

The sun rose on the anti–United Kingdom front, which had its skies closed off by a layer of silver extending from the south. The time was what humans referred to as early dawn—the point of time when the night was darkest. With the signs of sunrise not yet appearing, a large force of Eintagsfliege, made up of several hundred million butterflies, which had retreated into the territories to recharge their batteries during nightfall, began to move. 

They crossed the skies, soaring through the Legion territories and into the contested zones, where they would cover up the airspace of the United Kingdom in a wide, thick blanket of silver. 

When the sun did rise, its rays reflected off their shimmering wings, which coated the sky in an eerie shade of crimson. It was a similar phenomenon to what was observed in the Federacy’s western front during the large-scale offensive more than six months ago. A bloodred dawn that was similar to the evening glow but far more ominous. 

That red shade eventually died down, and the sky soon assumed the same melancholic gray-silver shade it’d always had over the last few months. But then something crossed that silver horizon. It came from the rear of the reserve base the United Kingdom military currently occupied. Something shot up into the sky, from beyond the serrated peaks extending to the skies. 

The Rabe governing over the skies, the Ameise on patrol, and the Stachelschwein hiding in the territories all detected it in their radar. The Ameise unit closest to the target took off in the direction it presumably flew in to secure visual information. Its antiair radar then lost its signal. It apparently wasn’t a flying object, not an aircraft or a missile. It was some kind of object that moved rapidly across the ground, but it didn’t seem to match anything in the Legion’s database. 

It burst out of the conifer forest, and the Legion’s blue optical sensor looked up at the battlefield of pale snow. Before long, the Ameise’s composite sensor perceived it—prompting it to freeze in place in indecision. 

What the Ameise optical sensor saw rolled down the slope at a maddening speed, billowing fire as it moved. It had a great number of what looked like large, all-too-massive wheels. 

“Charging in. Ignition of all units confirmed.” 

“Second wave, Strike Force Package fire-control detachment. Open fire. We have to finish this surprise attack while the enemy’s still caught off guard. Don’t allow them to get a handle on the situation.” 

“Roger that. Fire-control detachment, open fire. Align sights. Electromagnetic catapults, connect capacitors. Thrones, second wave—fire!” 

Deployed along the rear of the United Kingdom military’s reserve base, here and there over the slopes of the Dragon Corpse mountain range’s ridges, were rails. All of them were pointing south. Electromagnetic catapults had been loaded onto the backs of Zentaur units and were currently in operation. Their projectiles screeched as they slid over the rails and howled as they soared through the air. Released from their connectors, the projectiles were fired off, drawing arcs as they crested over the mountain. 

The Zentaurs’ control centers had all been destroyed, but their rails currently had a large number of cords coiled around their connectors. The wires penetrated the Zentaurs’ interiors with a sickening invasiveness reminiscent of a parasitic plant, allowing operation of the catapults on their backs. The other side of those wires was connected to a large number of electric capacitors, and the fire-control detachment’s armored command vehicle. The wires also extended to a row of Juggernauts, which controlled the firing sequence from their cockpits. 

They couldn’t control the Zentaurs themselves, but they could operate their electromagnetic catapults with relative ease. The Strike Package had hunted down and gathered a large number of ruined Zentaurs before this operation began. Or to be exact, they gathered the electromagnetic catapults they carried on their backs. 

All in order to stage an aerial assault on a battlefield where the Legion controlled the skies. 

The catapults howled. Masses with linked weights of several dozen tons accelerated to a velocity of thirty kilometers per hour in the blink of an eye. These attacks came at the cost of a reduced firing range and were done while knowing they would likely destroy the rails, but they allowed the Strike Package to add a great amount of weight to their projectiles. Though they would normally be far too heavy to fly through the air, they forcibly shook off the fetters of gravity, screeching off the rails as they were thrown into the open skies. 

With their central processors ruined, the Zentaurs had been reduced to harmless tools. And now they were turned against the army they once served, launching projectiles with all their might. Their projectiles soared over the mountains and had their couplings undone in midair. They landed on the southern slopes of the mountain range, where the Legion’s defensive line was thickly concentrated. 

These projectiles were pairs of steel wheels, with diameters of three meters. They were connected by two small cylinders, giving them the shape of bobbins or cable reels. They flew through the air one after another, slicing through the wind as they fell. 

The sensors built into them detected their posture and corrected their bearings as they landed. Once they touched down, the circular objects naturally started rolling down the incline with the help of gravity. They accelerated, sometimes bouncing into the air as they hit a lump of solid ice or some other obstacle, and headed for the Legion’s defensive line set at the foot of the southern slope. 

Their IFF devices and radars activated. Of course, the only things in sight were other wheels and the Legion. They set the enemy force ahead of them as their targets and began their pursuit. 

The jet fuel they were equipped with ignited, granting the wheels further propulsion in addition to gravity pulling them down. Kicking up the snow as they rolled, or perhaps even riding on the waves of the snow they knocked down, the wheels became a fire-breathing avalanche of steel. They rushed down the slope with the speed of a swooping eagle. 

The speed of their descent, coupled with the velocity afforded to them by the jet fuel, made them even faster than the Grauwolf, the most agile of the mass-produced Legion. They soon made contact with the Legion’s defensive line. 

And then their proximity fuses activated. The 1.8-ton heavy explosives contained in the cylinders detonated right in the middle of the Legion’s defensive lines. 

The sight of that explosion reached the reserve base, thanks to a Sirin located nearby who had transmitted her visual data. There were two varieties of these wheel-shaped, self-propelled, self-destructing weapons, though the two weren’t distinguished by appearance. One type scattered shrapnel upon bursting and was meant to be used against lightly armored targets. The other was meant for handling tanks and units with more fortified armor and unleashed self-forging fragments. 

The shrapnel dug into the Ameise, Grauwolf, and lightly armored Stier, mowing them down. Meanwhile, the close-range hits from the self-forging fragments shredded the Löwe. In terms of sheer weight, the self-destructing weapons were no match for the Löwe, to say nothing of the Dinosauria. But since they’d flown down the mountain and had the propulsion of both the free fall and the jet fuel accelerating them, they were bolstered by more velocity that translated into even more weight. The direct hit staggered the Dinosauria, and the blast finished it off. 

Lena watched this impressive sight from a main screen located in a control room provided to her by the reserve base. Beneath her uniform, which was a bit baggier than usual, was the Cicada, which shone with a pale-violet color. Slightly dazzled by the light, she watched the results of the projectile attack she came up with. Her thoughts harkened back to the briefing for the Dragon Fang Mountain assault operation, which had been set to begin with this projectile attack. 

“I will now explain the details of the Dragon Fang Mountain assault operation.” 

Not all the Processors were gathered in the room. Only the leaders of each squadron and their lieutenants were present, but there were still almost one hundred of them filling the large briefing room. 

“The operation’s objective is the same as last time: the destruction of the Weisel and Admiral units within the base. These are the top-priority objectives. In addition, you are to capture the Supreme Commander unit residing in this base. Its identifier: the Merciless Queen.” 

Standing in front of an operation map that was projected over the table, Lena changed the image on display as she continued her explanation. Her gaze was fixed on Shin, who sat in the front row. They hadn’t been able to hold a conversation since that argument. Naturally, when it came to the operation, they spoke when necessary but hadn’t been able to have a natural conversation since. 

They were both busy with preparations for the operation, of course, but there was definitely some fresh distance between them. Looking down at him from the stage, Lena couldn’t sense any anguish from Shin, who had the same serene, collected expression as ever. His gaze was downcast, and he didn’t look Lena in the eye, but he didn’t seem to waver as he read the documents in his hands. 

Apparently, he’d regained the composure needed to serve as operations commander… He’d recovered somewhat. And it seemed he was capable of bantering with Raiden and the others as he always did. 

“The units participating in this operation will be the Strike Package, in addition to the regiment under the command of Prince Viktor. With these two units, we are to seize control of the combat zone, keep it blockaded for the duration of the operation, and maintain a safe route that will allow us to reach and retreat from the combat zone… Unlike the formerly planned operation, the United Kingdom military will not be able to provide a diversion to distract the Legion forces from us.” 

A barely audible stir passed through the Processors. The operation was a brute force breakthrough using just the Strike Package and a single regiment of Alkonosts. Lena could hear someone whisper “That’s too reckless…” But among the whispers, Shin looked up and raised his hand, signifying he had a question. 

Their gazes met. He looked up at her with his serene, crimson eyes. She asked him in her mind, You’re all right, aren’t you? But of course, no answer came. 

“Colonel, there’s two things I’d like to confirm. First, are we not to expect any assistance from the United Kingdom military whatsoever? Secondly, your explanation didn’t mention how the route will be cleared for our forces. As such, I must ask: Who will handle that part of the operation?” 

He spoke with a clear voice. These were questions meant more to inform everyone else. Being the tactical commander for the Strike Package, he already knew the answers to them. 

“Of course, the United Kingdom is applying constant pressure and small-scale diversions on the Legion’s front lines. This is, after all, the United Kingdom’s war. They can’t relieve any forces from defending their final defensive line, so they will be keeping the Legion’s frontline forces occupied. Next, as to your question about securing the route—” 

Lena gave a small nod. 

“—we’ll have another group handle that.” 

“Milizé was awfully worried about you, but…you pulled yourself together in time for the operation.” 

“I couldn’t hang back and stay in HQ with the operation being this unstable.” 

The Dragon Fang Mountain base operation’s heavy transport vehicle was hiding in a conifer forest near the reserve base. As he faced an information terminal and gave the mission briefing a final read through, Shin answered Vika’s question via the Para-RAID. He then asked: 

“That other unit… Or, well, that other weapon. What was it made for? That monster wheel thing?” 

Shin’s holo-screen displayed footage from the Legion’s front line hidden deep within the forest. All around that battle zone, Shin could see the vivid, if somewhat absurd, sight of the mysterious wheels called Thrones tumbling around. 

“Apparently, they’re based off siege defense weapons from the Middle Ages. My aunt—who was the former Amethystus—came up with them, using those weapons as the basis, and produced these as prototypes. I don’t know what she wanted to use them on, either. I suppose that’s just her taste and sense of aesthetic at work.” 

The idea of dropping a heavy, combustible object from atop the walls was based off a long-held battle tactic of using kinetic energy and firepower to bring ruin to the sieging side. There were even cases where animals were used to afford the weapons the capacity to move. But a guided, rocket-propelled weapon with high-powered explosives pressed between two wheels that were wider than a person was tall—now that was unheard of. 

“…Her taste and sense of aesthetic?” 

“The Amethystus have some individual difference in their preferred fields of study. I’m focused on AI, and my aunt was a specialist when it came to guidance systems… Given the Legion War, the fact that the United Kingdom hasn’t produced anything comparable to the Feldreß over the last two hundred years is a bit of a sore spot for us. Of course, ethics have always been an issue.” 

In other words, these weapons weren’t developed out of necessity. Their developer made them simply because she could. That was all. 

“………” 

Shin fell silent despite himself. He had a slight feeling that something was off. 

“We’re not in danger of stepping on any anti-tank roosters, are we?” 

“Of course not… Roosters would freeze to death in this climate.” 

“………” 

“………” 

The two of them said nothing, but each of them for different reasons. 

“…Do you think anti-tank dogs might be effective against the Legion?” 

Shin had to stifle a sigh at Vika’s vaguely serious whisper. During the Revich Citadel Base incident, Frederica had described Vika as a fool who happens to be smart, and Shin had to agree with that phrasing. 

“The Legion are polypedal weapons, so unlike treadmill vehicles, there’s a gap between the ground and their underbelly. So if we use a mine that can fold up to blow off their legs, we might be able to—” 

“They’d probably just jump out of the way.” 

“Hmm, true.” 

Vika agreed, sounding slightly disappointed. He then seemed to suddenly raise his head. 

“Maybe we can strap mines to a cheetah?” 

“How’re you going to get those over here?” 

“…I suppose that’s true, as well.” 

Cheetahs lived on the southern continent; they were a species that boasted the highest sprinting speed of all mammals. Said southern continent was far outside the Legion’s territories, and needless to say, cheetahs didn’t inhabit the United Kingdom. And even if they were to take those creatures from the warm south and put them in the frozen battlefield here, they’d simply meet the same fate a mine rooster would. 

It was a laughable idea to begin with. So laughable that Shin didn’t even bother pointing it out, since Vika likely suggested it while understanding full well how impossible it was. 

…Probably. 

And as the two boys continued their rather inappropriate conversation given the situation they were in, the United Kingdom continued firing at the Legion. They were bombarding them in preparation for their assault. They ravaged the enemy defenses before sending in their attack force, crushing as many enemy units as they could to prevent the possibility of a counterattack to the best of their ability. Once this bombardment ended, the attack force would begin its charge. With that pressure in mind, perhaps one couldn’t blame these young soldiers for their banter. 

As they fired all the Thrones, the Zentaurs fell silent, breaking down and billowing flames from the intense load. But another container rolled in, and the fire-control officers switched their command programs to ones meant to control the contents inside it. 

The Thrones’ target was the first row of the Legion’s defensive lines, which consisted of heavily armored types that’d been gathered to break through the United Kingdom’s defensive lines. But the contents of that container, as well as the control program in charge of it, were meant to strike at another target. 

While the switch to the second container took place, a flurry of heavy artillery and mortar fire rained down on the enemy lines. The Thrones opened up a hole in the enemy formation, and the concentrated fire struck the rear lines behind it. They aimed at the defensive facilities and echelons in the rear, up to the very limit of their firing range. 

Thoroughly and carefully, the storm of bombardment plowed an invasion route open. To buy more time for the switchover, the United Kingdom even brought in range-extended base-bleed missiles. 

And then the switchover of the Zentaurs’ firing program was complete. The new projectile was set on the electromagnetic catapult, which resumed firing. Large cannon shells howled as they were launched into the air, drawing arcs through the sky as they joined the flurry of projectiles falling down on the battlefield. Some of them kept soaring upward, rushing into the silver Eintagsfliege clouds, leaving a shower of butterfly wings as they tore through them. Others dropped down in a diagonal trajectory as they crashed into the mass of Legion units. And then their timed fuses activated…and burst. 

155 mm shells released shock waves and shrapnel in a 45-meter radius, but this bomb unleashed intense shock waves in a 1,500-meter radius. A second explosion with the same radius bloomed in the sky, burning the brittle butterflies and cracking open a hole in the silvery veil. 

A Daisy Cutter. 

That was the popular name given to a bomb meant to create destruction in an extremely large radius. It was originally designed to be loaded onto a plane and air-dropped on its target. For this reason, these bombs had been stored away in the United Kingdom’s warehouses ever since the Legion took away humankind’s air superiority. And with a weight of nearly seven tons, it couldn’t be used by ordinary weaponry. 

But for the Zentaur’s electromagnetic catapult, which was capable of easily launching Ameise weighing ten tons, a seven-ton bomb was well within the realm of possibility. 

The Thrones had never been applied in a real battle, but the Daisy Cutters were never designed to be fired from the ground or burst in midair. Needless to say, a fire-control system meant to enable those kinds of uses wasn’t developed ahead of time, either. This was all hurriedly put together for the sake of this operation. 

The system developers put their hearts and souls into writing the program, cutting into their own sleep time to finish it. But they had to admit they weren’t good enough when it came to actually aiming and shooting the projectiles. To that end, they needed experienced fire-control personnel or the aid of a gunner. 

Anju was among the personnel handling that duty and was currently adjusting the sights of the Zentaurs she was in charge of. 

“…Yeah, I can see why no one wants to wear this thing,” she complained, pinching up the edge of the Cicada she was currently wearing. 

She was still relatively fine since she was inside Snow Witch’s cockpit, but if this was a command center, or Vanadis, or any other place where people could see her, she wouldn’t be caught dead in this thing. At least, not without a coat or some kind of sweatshirt. 

Of course, she had her pilot suit placed inside her cockpit’s equipment compartment in case she ran into combat or became isolated in enemy territory, but that was beside the point. 

“Did Lena really wear this thing during that last battle…? I can understand it was necessary, but…like, I’m surprised she could pull it off.” 

Kurena, who also served as a fire-control specialist and wore a Cicada as well, spoke from inside Gunslinger in a somewhat fidgety manner. Her tone made it clear she was uncomfortably rubbing her inner thighs together in the outfit. 

The two of them were among the most seasoned of the Strike Package’s soldiers and had been in charge of fire support during their time in the elite unit that defended the eastern front’s first defensive line. It was only natural that out of everyone who’d been left behind to offer artillery support for this operation, they’d be the ones handling multiple Zentaurs. 

And to properly accomplish this task, they had to be given Cicadas to wear. The two of them understood the reasoning behind that, but… 

“…When we get back, I’m gonna toss a snowball right at that stupid prince’s face.” 

“I hope we can at least get away with doing that much. No matter how you look at it, this thing has to be some kind of practical joke… Ah, Kurena, Colonel Wenzel’s transmitting the next targets.” 

Owing to their lack of hands this time around, Grethe, who had stayed behind during the last operation, was participating as a part of the fire-control detachment. In other words, she was currently acting as Anju and Kurena’s direct commander. 

Unlike the Eighty-Six, Grethe was an officer who had been given proper education and training, but Anju was still surprised by how versatile she was. She had clearly earned her promotion to field officer despite only being in her twenties. 

“Oh, roger that… Zentaur fire-control third squad, all hands. Adjust your sights—” 

The crunching sound of approaching footsteps in the snow reached Anju’s ears, and it was followed by a dull banging sound. Apparently, someone had knocked on her cockpit’s armor. Or so she thought, but then her canopy was pulled up from the outside. 

“Anju, they said we’re expecting snow, so they sent me to bring you extra coats…” 

As he spoke, Dustin handed her a thick coat belonging to the United Kingdom’s military and not the Federacy’s. But halfway through his sentence, Dustin froze in place awkwardly. 

He was sent to help the fire-control team just like Anju, but apparently, there was some leeway between cooling the Zentaurs’ rails and exchanging the capacitors. So he used that time to go between the rows of Juggernauts, handing out protective clothing. And while that bit of consideration was quite typical and kind of him… 

His silver eyes widened as he looked at Anju. Or rather, at the curvature and lines of her body, which were accentuated by the Cicada. Anju stared back at him and froze in place. Her alabaster face flushed a vivid shade of red, and almost reflexively, a sound erupted from deep within her throat: 

“Ee—” 

Suddenly, a shrill scream pierced the cold wind blowing through the area the second Zentaur fire-control squad was placed in. 

“—eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeek!!” 

“Whoaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa…?!” 

Those two shouts were swallowed by the thick snowfall, and so no one—with the exception of the second squad’s Processors, who had to stifle their laughter—heard them. 

The final burst of large shells caused a massive flower of flames to bloom in the sky. This last barrage crossed a distance of forty kilometers, penetrating into the Legion’s territory. But the bombardment that preceded the assault wasn’t over yet. 

As if to make doubly sure their bombardment would be successful, a group of black wings crossed over the ridges, roaring as their jet fuel burned. Gray shadows darkened the sky for a moment. 

It was a formation of impressive size and number, made up of both old and new bomber jets. They soared from the United Kingdom’s runway and headed into the Legion’s territories, while completely unmanned and operated by autopilot. They flew into a sky where they lacked air superiority, where the Eintagsfliege and the Stachelschwein lay in wait. 

The surviving Legion responded promptly, of course. Lock-on alerts blared through the deserted cockpits of the bomber jets. The Eintagsfliege swarmed the aircrafts, plunging into their air intakes. The jets’ high-temperature engines attracted antiair missiles, while the mechanical butterflies combusted inside their engines. The four engines that kept the bomber jets’ two hundred tons of weight aloft burst into flames one after another. 

And yet the jets didn’t stop. They crossed the peaks and began a soft descent as they slanted forward, picking up speed into what was eventually a full-speed crash. The Eintagsfliege destroyed the engines that enabled these massive metallic birds to shake off gravity and take to the skies. Even with the engines destroyed, they still achieved enough altitude and inertia to fly over the mountain peaks. 

And that altitude and inertia hadn’t been undone, even with the engines destroyed and the planes beginning to crash. The bomber jets were still heading in the same direction they had before—straight toward the path the attack force was set to take. 

The antiair fire continued with what bordered on frenzy, and the aircrafts couldn’t take any evasive maneuvers and suffered direct hits. But it wasn’t enough to stop them. The antiair guns didn’t have sufficient force to destroy the falling, two-hundred-ton masses. 

The antiaircraft missiles focused on the heat produced by the engines, as was their nature and design. Their buckshots tore into the wings and destroyed the engines, and still, the bombers continued to plummet toward them. 

The Legion somehow managed to completely destroy a few of the planes, but even still, their fragments abided by gravity and rained down over the territories with the same force and inertia. 

The aircrafts that still had their fuselage whole opened and emptied out their bomb docks. They had lost their shape as bomber jets by now and soared down like dying, bleeding birds using the last of their strength. As they crashed, they dropped containers full of ammunition and explosives, as well as their surplus fuel. 

Their fuselages skimmed the treetops and then bounced as they hit the snowfield before finally toppling sideways with a rumbling thud. As they crashed, their fragments flew through the air, crushing any Legion that failed to escape. 

Their exposed fuel caught fire, as if to represent these aircrafts’ final scream. The entire strip of land cleared open by the bombardment caught fire. Eventually, the Legion would rush in to close the gap, but for now, a wall of raging flames that trailed up to the heavens stood in their way. 

Even to Lena, who drafted this entire operation, the opening of their invasion route was a grand, vivid affair. A transmission came in from one of the artillery squad’s commanders. To them, this was the territory and the weapons of their homeland. And they sacrificed them liberally, all to open the path. The awe of that act put a shiver into the middle-aged field officer’s voice. 

“All firing schedules achieved. Invasion route, clear.” 

“Roger. Dragon Fang Mountain base attack unit, prepare to sortie.” 

She replied while consciously stifling all the emotion from her voice. This plan was designed by her, and to that end, she couldn’t let others see her tremble at the sight of it. How did the artillery squad commander interpret her coolheaded tone? For a moment, he held his breath and then spoke as if overwhelmed. 

“Vanadis. Are you…?” 

“What is it?” 

“…Er…” 

The officer hesitated and then shook his head. If he didn’t say it now, he might never have a chance to say it again. Such was the resolve of those who live on the battlefield and face death directly. 

The Eighty-Six and the Sirins were about to fearlessly embark on a death march. And the officer spoke to Lena, who was about to send her subordinates on their way without so much as a shiver in her voice, with a tone full of awe and respect. 

“Godspeed. May luck be on His Highness’s side, as well as with you and your subordinates.” 

She had lost contact with the patrolling Ameise, the Eintagsfliege blanketing the heavens, and even the precious Dinosauria that had been gathered in the front lines to break through the enemy’s defensive lines. With this, she realized the battle with the United Kingdom had begun. 

White armor. A Personal Mark of a goddess leaning against the moon. The Supreme Commander unit known as the Merciless Queen. To her, this bombardment—which went beyond mere thoughtlessness and entered the realm of utter recklessness—was well within the realm of possibility. She didn’t foresee the means they had used, of course, but the sheer scale of this offensive was, to an extent, predictable. 

They tore open at least half their invasion route’s length using bombardment and self-destructing weaponry and kept it open with walls of fire. This was done to lighten the load on the advance force. Most of the enemy’s forces remained on the reserve defensive line, where they couldn’t offer the advance force any support. 

But if they didn’t resort to these measures, they would be ruined. And so she knew the United Kingdom would go on the offensive, even if it meant shedding their very lifeblood to do it. She was convinced of that much. 

At the very least, the unicorn’s royal house would surely resort to it. Nobles and royalty were simply those kinds of creatures. They would waste their own subjects and wealth as if pouring water down the drain so long as it ensured their own survival. 

And that was why it didn’t matter to her anymore. It was a trifling matter, she thought as she gently swerved her optical sensor. Why she made the Legion didn’t matter anymore. 

She was a Legion commander unit. Identifier: Mistress. That and nothing more. 

<<Mistress to all units in this echelon.>> 

None of the Legion answered her call. But as their creator, she knew none of them would fail to hear her orders or dare disobey them. 

<<Prepare to intercept the enemy. Exterminate all enemy units in sight.>> 

The Strike Package received the order to sortie. That single word they’d decided on ahead of time—that undecorated, emotionless utterance—reached Shin as he waited in the armored transport’s cabin. 

Beneath his gaze was the snowy conifer forest. Beyond it, the flames burned incessantly. The intense attack gouged into the ground. No one moved within that route of scorched earth, surrounded as it was on both sides by walls of flame. The billowing black tongues of fire reached out to the heavens, where a hole had been opened in the silver clouds of Eintagsfliege. The blue that should have been there was dyed a dull, dingy black, polluted by the burning of jet fuel and metal. 

And beyond the path of flames and scorched earth, Shin could hear moans, screams, and wails of agony. The scores of mechanical ghosts still trapped on the battlefield. It occurred to Shin that this was very much an infernal sight. A quote from the Divine Comedy, from the early chapters of “Inferno,” came to mind. It was the line etched upon the gates of Hell: 

Through me is the way to the city of woe. 

But even if what lay ahead was hell, or even if they didn’t have the first clue as to where they were going…if they didn’t move forward, they would never get anywhere. 

“Let’s go.” 

Lena watched from the command room’s main screen as the row of vehicles took off. In order to lower the chance of an enemy counterattack, they departed as soon as the invasion route was open and before the enemy could block it off. The advance force hid not on the northern slope, where the artillery formation was, but on the southern slope, in a conifer forest near the reserve defensive line. 

The formation consisted of armored transports carrying the Strike Package’s Juggernauts and the Alkonosts under Vika’s command, as well as the Scavengers following after them. Even Scavengers, with their ten tons of weight, hardly made any sound as they stepped through the snow. The snow and the dense row of trees absorbed the sound of their diesel engines, and the line descended the wintry slope silently. 

They looked like some kind of ominous funeral procession, or a sinister black serpent slithering downhill. With the Processors who were in charge of long-distance fire, like Kurena and Anju, removed from their ranks, the advance force didn’t have their total number of active Juggernauts. And while the Sirins were replenished, the Alkonosts lost during the last attack could not be replaced in time, and a fewer number of them had to be deployed. With this, the forces dispatched to the Dragon Fang Mountain base were fewer than expected. 

“………” 

Yet they did everything they could considering the circumstances, and Lena gave them the order to sortie. With this, she had nothing more to tell them. She detailed all the objectives, provided all the instructions, and relayed all the information they needed to know. Everything else was in the hands of the commander on the scene—Shin. 

Had there been any change in the situation, it would have been different. But there wasn’t, and Lena had nothing to tell them. And still… 

Lena pursed her lips. She felt Frederica, who was gazing up at the screen with her arms crossed, sneak a glance in her direction. She thought her eyes…those crimson, bloodred eyes—just like Shin’s—were asking her something. 

Are you okay with things as they are? 

…Of course I’m not. 

She had nothing more to tell him, but that was just as a commander. As a person, Lena had more words to say to Shin than she knew what to do with. She had to apologize…because the reason they disagreed back then must have been her fault. 

The truth was, she wanted to speak to him…and she feared, just like she did when he stood before that siege path made up of dead Alkonosts, that he might disappear if she didn’t. 

She wanted to entrust him with her wish, one more time. But a commander in the middle of a mission couldn’t display so much weakness. Or maybe it was just her ego and dignity, her pride as a commander who had been seasoned enough to become known the Bloodstained Queen, Bloody Reina. Maybe that was keeping her from expressing what she wanted to say. 

But as she hesitated, the words of that artillery commander surfaced in her mind once again. A soldier’s belief was to say anything they had left to say when they needed to say them. Because there was no telling if one would have a chance to say them after the battle ended. Even if they were to meet again after the operation ended. 

Right now, the possibility that they would never meet again loomed before them. And if she was to fear this gap between them and let the argument they’d had stifle her words, or simply lose to her own pride, she would go on to regret for the rest of her life that she didn’t speak to him when she still had the chance. 

She activated the Para-RAID. Her Resonance target was set to one person. 

“Shin.” 

She could feel the presence of Shin’s eyes widening in surprise through the path connecting their subconscious to the collective unconscious of humankind. 

“Colonel? What’s—?” 

“I’m sorry about earlier.” Lena cut him off. 

She somehow felt like if she didn’t say it now, she’d never be able to. 

“I was too intrusive. I should have waited until you were ready to talk about it yourself, but I didn’t believe you’d tell me. And that was a mistake on my behalf, without a doubt. I’m so, so sorry.” 

“………” 

“But I really do want you to tell me…and to rely on me. If you’re in pain, I want you to say so. I want you to let me protect you, too.” 

Both on the battlefield and outside it. Just like the way you take to the front line, and other times, try to protect me in smaller ways. 

I want to support you. 

“Even if you won’t tell me now, I want you to tell me someday… I want to be someone you can speak to. Someone you can rely on. So…” 

“It’s not that I…don’t rely on you.” 

“Yes. I’m sure you didn’t do that intentionally. We just haven’t spoken to each other enough yet.” 

They hadn’t spoken enough to be able to support each other. To believe in each other. And that’s why… 

“Let’s talk. When you get back, let’s just talk. We can start from the most trivial, silliest things. And someday, you can tell me about your pain.” 

“………” 

He probably couldn’t answer that request yet. Shin fell silent, and Lena smiled at him. The Sensory Resonance didn’t allow one to see the other person’s expression, but it did transmit emotions to the extent a face-to-face conversation would. 

Someday, he could tell her about the scars he kept hidden deep within. And about the scar along his throat. So when the day came that he was finally willing to speak… 

“Please…tell me.” 

“…So.” 

An armored weapon retained its performance so long as it didn’t operate for long, needless periods of time. This was true of all Feldreß—and the Juggernauts. And so the armored transports raced through the burned bottom of the valley, with the Processors in the front cabins and the Juggernauts locked up in the rear cargo holds. 

In order to defend from a potential enemy attack, a third of the Processors remained on standby, sitting inside their Juggernauts’ cockpits in the cargo holds. As such, many of the Processors were missing from the cabin. Inside, Theo fixed his gaze on the girl sitting a distance away from him. 

She wasn’t clad in the Processors’ steel-blue flight suits or the combat uniforms of the drivers. Nor was she in the dark violet of the United Kingdom’s uniform or the Sirins’ rouge uniform. No, she was wearing that irritating shade of Prussian blue. The Republic’s uniform. But her silvery hair, unlike Lena’s, was short. 

“Er, Major Penrose, was it? What are you doing here?” 

“An experiment,” Annette replied curtly and concisely. 

During the battle in the underground terminal, which was located in the Republic’s secondary capital of Charité, the Legion made an attempt to abduct and dissect her. And during the last battle in the Revich Citadel Base, the Eighty-Sixth Strike Package was pinpointed and attacked despite their move there being confidential. 

Where was the information leaking from? Was it the United Kingdom, where they were deployed to, or the Federacy? And if their communications were being tapped, was it via the wireless or the Sensory Resonance? They had to find out. If they couldn’t maintain the confidentiality and security of their transmissions, their future operations were in danger of being compromised. 

“Last time, nothing happened because I wasn’t in the combat zone. So I’ll head out there and make my presence known through the communication lines. If the Legion go after me, we’ll know they’re listening in on our transmissions.” 

This would help them pinpoint where the leak was. 

“So you’re setting yourself up as bait…? You’re a weirdo, you know that?” 

A Republic citizen going this far for the Eighty-Six… 

Annette picked up on the sarcasm in Theo’s comment and gave a light shrug. 

“We don’t want to make the same mistake twice, right?” said Annette. “At least, I don’t want to repeat my mistakes more than once… So yeah, sorry, but I’ll be holding back one of your units.” 

Yuuto, who had seemingly heard their exchange, spoke up in the mechanical, flat tone that was his trademark: 

“Major Penrose, you’ll be boarding with Saki, who was injured during the last battle. She can pilot her unit just fine, but full-on combat is too much for her right now. We weren’t relying on that unit to perform in combat this time, so it’s not a problem.” 

“Really, now. How considerate of you. I’m touched…,” Annette said dryly. “Also, I’m here as insurance in case the prince dies. All you have to do to activate the detonation device is press a switch, but there’s a chance the detonator might not go off due to an error. And you Eighty-Six aren’t tech-savvy enough yet to handle the information terminal needed to operate it, right?” 

“…I guess.” 

The question of who their lack of knowledge could be attributed to was something Theo didn’t bring up. The white pigs of the Republic were the ones who denied them an education, but he wasn’t going to demand a technical officer the same age as him to take responsibility for that. Instead, he decided to wisecrack. 

“Then how about you handle my usual reports for me, too, while you’re at it?” 

“That’s your job. That’s what the army is paying you for. Think of it as training if you have to and do it yourself,” she retorted at him at once. “Besides, I said you’re not tech-savvy yet. The officer in charge of your education told me you guys pick up on stuff fast. And you’ll be in trouble if you can’t look things up on your own when you need to, right? Don’t expect me to be there to help you when you feel like looking up porn on the Internet.” 

Theo scoffed at her. She definitely wasn’t a feeble princess who couldn’t do anything, though she was still different compared with Lena. If she was this strong-willed, it only meant they didn’t have to go out of their way to be exceptionally cautious around her. 

“I guess that’s true.” 

The United Kingdom military’s preemptive bombardment destroyed all the Legion in the blast zone, but the Legion that were away from that area were still intact. They set out, having received an order from their commander unit to intercept the enemy. 

The forces in the front row stood alert for combat, wary of an enemy attack from another direction, while a reserve unit was set aside to pursue and intercept the enemy’s advance force. It seemed the enemy was marching through the contested zones and territories by hiding in the forests, and so they avoided getting caught by the Ameise’s patrols. 

But their route was easy to predict. The United Kingdom military fired that artillery to compensate for their lacking numbers. In which case, the advance force must have been within the bombardment area—somewhere within that straight line of the strip that had been torn open by the assault. 

The walls of fire produced by the large amounts of jet fuel hadn’t been put out yet. At worst, this forest would continue burning for days to come. And yet the Legion cut through the flames, into the depths of the territories that hadn’t been blocked off by the flames yet. 

Like a pack of wolves pursuing a fleeing prey, they closed in on the enemy’s advance force from all directions. 

“There’s no way…” 

As the Sirins were camped out on relatively high ground, their radar was particularly reactive. And coupled with that was Shin’s ability. Between these two information sources, Lena already had a map drawn out in her mind as she spoke. 

The Legion had the numbers and the production speed to send this many units against the advance force. In contrast, the United Kingdom military couldn’t send any more units to this battlefield except for the Dragon Fang Mountain attack force. And given the distance, even if they did send any reinforcements, they wouldn’t make it in time. 

But from the beginning, it wasn’t as if… 

“…We wouldn’t predict this counterattack… Right, Vika?” 

“Confirmed. They’re moving along the route you predicted, Milizé.” 

Vika smirked within Gadyuka’s cockpit. His unit had already been hidden within the territories since the previous day, and he had already Resonated with the deployed Sirins. The United Kingdom couldn’t produce enough Alkonosts to replace the numbers they lost, and some Sirins were left without a unit to pilot. 

And so instead of doing nothing, they were used for recon. But of course, there weren’t enough of them to cover the entire invasion route. A Sirin’s speed and the detection range of their sensors made them only slightly more capable than a human scout. To accurately observe the Legion’s advance, the Sirins would have to be stationed along the precise route they would take. And the projected route the Legion’s interception force would follow didn’t deviate from Lena’s predictions in the slightest. 

Lena had correctly predicted the enemy force flocking in from all directions on the advance force, without missing a single unit. Vika had to marvel at how monstrous her abilities were, though he somehow remained blind to his own peculiarities. 

“Chief Gunner, the enemy has entered the kill zone. There isn’t a need for test shots, is there? Crush them.” 

“Of course, Your Highness.” 

The aged chief gunner laughed from within the invasion forces’ vehicle column. He cackled ferociously, like an old lion. He set the advancing enemy unit as the bombardment zone, with all his guns’ sights fixed on the incoming enemy. This was an established artillery tactic when lying in wait: 

Offensive destructive fire. 

The firing data had already been gathered from a decade of fighting. They knew the range of their cannons from dozens of battles. 

“Fire.” 

“By your will. All gunports, fire!” 

A Löwe stood guard over the Ameise leading their company. But suddenly, its optical sensor caught sight of a humanoid silhouette. No response from the Löwe’s IFF device. The figure was an enemy element. Judging by its shape, the Löwe concluded it was an unarmed civilian. Minimal threat level. 

The Löwe casually swerved one of its heavy machine guns toward that target, when… 

The Ameise looked up and issued a warning. But it was in vain, as a shower of shells rained down on them at supersonic speeds, further blotting out the sunlight. As the Löwe failed to avoid the thick hail of steel, the last thing its optical sensor could perceive was the unnatural sight of a girl on the battlefield. This pink-haired girl, who had a violet crystal imbedded into her forehead, smiled at the Löwe as its consciousness cut out. 

The row of vehicles advanced through the snowy fields. The Dragon Corpse mountain range had never been considered habitable land, despite belonging to the United Kingdom’s territory. They advanced through the deep, mountain forest without so much as an animal trail to tread on, using the incessant snowfall and the trees to stay out of the Legion’s sight. 

A small party broke off from their main force every so often to stealthily ensure the path ahead was clear. And so the force of Reginleifs gradually diminished, as planned, as they raced through the enemy’s territory. 

As they finished the first day of marching, they passed through a peculiar strip of woods. Up until now, they had been surrounded by conifer trees, which were characteristic of the north. But at some point, those had disappeared. Instead, wherever they looked, all they could see were massive lumps of snow, with a shape that invoked the image of large, distorted monsters. 

A stir passed through the Eighty-Six, some of them within the armored transports while others sat within the cockpits of their Reginleifs. Someone could be heard whispering “The hell is that…?” through the Resonance. 

“Rime ice,” one of the United Kingdom’s Handlers said. 

The Handler spoke with a tinge of pride, as if they were chaperoning children who had caught sight of a strange beast during an excursion to foreign lands. 

“It happens when a thick layer of snow and frost freezes on the trees… It’s your first time seeing this, isn’t it? You don’t see something like this only when it’s cold or when it snows. The conditions have to be just right for something like this to form; otherwise it won’t happen.” 

“………” 

Vika, who had been listening to this conversation, added: 

“…Why don’t you come visit the United Kingdom next winter, if you get the chance? We’ll show you how it’s not just rain or snow that can fall from the sky, but that ice can as well. And you can see firsthand that there are lights in the sky that aren’t just the moon or the stars. We’ll show you a winter that isn’t fake, like this one… A magnificent winter, the likes of which you can only see here, in the United Kingdom.” 

Vika sounded vaguely emotional. As if thinking back to a sight he’d once seen alongside someone. None of the Eighty-Six, Shin included, knew who that someone was. But they were all drawn in by that longing and listened to his words attentively. Shin then spoke, breaking his comrades’ silence. He’d heard of the phenomena Vika had mentioned, but he’d never seen it himself. 

“Diamond dust. And auroras…” 

“I imagine these would be new experiences for you… Let me tell you one thing, Eighty-Six of the Eighty-Sixth Sector. You war dogs who know only of the battlefield. The world is larger and wider than what you know. You’re free to disparage it, if you so wish… But know that you still haven’t seen nearly enough of the world to give up on it.” 

“I’ll be sending over an estimated map of the Dragon Fang Mountain base’s interior… Refer to it as you reconfirm your objectives.” 

A holographic sub-window opened as Lena’s silver bell of a voice reached Shin’s ears. It faintly lit up the dark cockpit, forming a three-dimensional map made out of lines of light. 

It’s deeper than I thought, Shin pondered as he eyed the luminescent map. 

The Dragon Fang Mountain base was a place constructed by the Legion. Unlike with the battle at the Charité Underground Labyrinth, they didn’t have any concrete maps of the base’s interior. Infiltrating an enemy base without any grasp of its internal structure would be far too reckless. Especially given the invasion force’s current state, where they had no forces to maintain their path of retreat. 

And so in place of an actual map, the United Kingdom’s military had this hurriedly made, three-dimensional map. Using Shin’s ability to trace the movements of the voices within the structure, they estimated the layout of the base’s passageways and central facilities. After gathering this data, they spent a whole night employing all of Vanadis’s computational power to produce this map. 

Shin’s perception of three-dimensional movement was much weaker compared with his perception of two-dimensional movement, but the Löwe and the Dinosauria weighed fifty tons and one hundred tons respectively, so the base’s ground had to be solid enough to support that weight. And since this base also generated power and produced units, they could predict some facilities it would need to have. 

With these conditions in mind, they were able to draw a map with an estimated—if not as accurate as would be required—layout of the base. Still, it was better than charging in completely blind, even if not by much. 

“As you can see, the interior of the base is divided into sectors. The first one is the surface sector, which is close to the mountain’s base and seems to house the Weisel production unit. The second sector is located near the dormant volcanic pipe and is estimated to be the Admiral Power Plant unit… Apparently, it was built there due to the location’s proximity to a heat source, which allowed for heat expulsion and cooling purposes. The power-generation facility is located adjacent to the volcanic pipe, while its control kernel is a short distance away in an open area near the dormant volcanic crater. Both have passageways connecting to them. And…” 

Areas of the map lit up in accordance to Lena’s explanation. She transmitted the data using the communications network they’d established while setting up their path of retreat. This was done using the same method with which the Sirins that had infiltrated the Legion’s territories transmitted their footage data six months ago. 

“The third sector. A deep underground sector that’s located adjacent to the dormant volcanic pipe. The presumed location of the Merciless Queen.” 

This sector was located at the center of the three-dimensional model of the base. Matching her words, a small point lit up deep underground. Though the opening in the mountain peak was currently blocked by chilled magma, the space had once been a volcanic tunnel. And right next to that area was the Merciless Queen’s sector. 

“The function of this sector is unknown. We might estimate it’s a command center for the Legion, but…the number of actual Legion units inhabiting it is small. Captain Nouzen’s observations state that the Merciless Queen is the only one inside.” 

Vika scoffed in an amused tone. 

“I’m sure this sector has a title. Let us call it the Throne Room, for lack of another name.” The prince seemed to have shrugged as he said those disrespectful words without a hint of reservation. “The division of roles hasn’t changed since the briefing, right, Milizé? My squadron and the Claymore squadron will handle the Admiral control kernel and power unit respectively, while the Thunderbolt squadron seizes the Weisel. Nordlicht and Lycaon will ensure the combat zone is blocked off, with help from what remains of the 1st Armored Corps’ remaining squadrons, and the Spearhead squadron will handle seizing the Merciless Queen… Storming into a queen’s bedchambers. How barbaric.” 

The Strike Package’s Processors had been broken up into four groups, with the two largest groups taking part in the mission. Because the 2nd Armored Corps had to maintain the escape route, their forces were greatly diminished, and so the 1st Armored Corps—which Shin’s Spearhead squadron was a part of—had to handle both blockading the mountain’s surrounding areas and attacking the base’s interior. 

In addition, since this operation required accomplishing several objectives at once—thereby dividing their forces into battalions as they usually did—the force infiltrating the base was made up of temporary divisions created by putting Juggernauts and Alkonosts in the same squadrons. 

“…Furthermore, the Phönix’s presence is not confirmed as of now. But we can be certain it’s part of the Dragon Fang Mountain’s defensive force, so in the event that it does appear, deal with it as you did last time.” 

The Dragon Fang Mountain base was surrounded by walls on all sides and necessitated fighting in small, cramped quarters, making it an ideal battlefield for the Phönix. The advance force was also essentially isolating itself by entering the enemy base, which made it easy for the enemy army to draw them in and wipe them out. The Legion would no doubt send their strongest forces to eliminate them. 

“However, destroying the Phönix is a low-priority objective in this operation. Avoid engaging it unless strictly necessary. Given the time you would need to retreat and how long we can keep the operation area blockaded, we only have four hours to complete this operation… Seize the base swiftly.” 

Shin narrowed his eyes bitterly as he listened to the chime of her voice. He hadn’t apologized for their argument before. But Lena did…despite it not being her fault. And yet he still hadn’t. Now wasn’t the time for this conversation, of course, but once he returned… Once the operation had ended, he wanted to apologize. He also wanted to have that conversation she’d mentioned. 

“Roger.” 

The Dragon Fang Mountain. The people of the United Kingdom granted the largest peak in the Dragon Corpse mountain range that name out of awe and dignity. And like that name implied, it resembled a massive fang bared toward the heavens. Anyone looking up at it from the foot of the mountain would realize just how large it was. A pure-white, acute ridgeline jutted toward the coal-gray sky. 

A conifer forest, too thick and too dark to allow for human entry, spanned the foot of the mountain. Ameise units patrolled the gaps in wary vigil. It was a region far removed from humankind’s presence, but since it was a production base, there were Tausendfüßler constantly coming and going. The snow was relatively thin along the path they took, which ended in a frozen, rocky incline that had an unnatural, metal blast door built into it. 

The nearby Ameise were patrolling in a state of high alert, sensors raised. 

But in the following moment, a group of Alkonosts lunged over their light frames and crushed them under their weight. Using the tree trunks as a foothold, the advance force raced through the treetops and leaped high through the opening to the forest. Before the Ameise could counterattack or report the enemy raid, the Legion units were shot down by gunfire from directly above them. The stomped units were scattered to pieces. 

As the roaring of the guns still echoed around her, Lerche exclaimed through the Resonance: 

“Clear! Sir Reaper, go at once!” 

Shin didn’t need to be told twice. Before the fire and smoke of the blast could dissipate, Shin piloted Undertaker through the opening. His optical screen displayed the defenseless blast door. 

“Vanadis!” 

“Firing! T minus five seconds. Two, one… Impact!” 

They’d fired off one precious missile that traveled close to the ground. One of the Juggernauts exposed the blast door to a sight laser, which served as the guided missile’s signal as it flew toward the door. 

And then—an explosion. 

The metal door bent inward and was torn apart like papercraft, ringing out with an explosion that echoed against the rock surface. Sensing with his ability that several unfortunate Legion units had been caught up in the blast, Shin ordered the fire suppression squad led by Raiden to fire inside. 

The most dangerous moment in an infiltration was when they were entering the structure. They only went inside the dark base upon confirming that the voices of the Legion lying in wait near the entrance had died out. 

Shin’s optical screen went black and switched over to night-vision mode a moment later. The sound of the tips of the Juggernauts’ metallic legs stepping on the rock floor echoed heavily around them. They purged the leg gear they had on for advancing through the snow, and even the noise of the explosive bolts echoed deeply into the base as well. 

It was a wide space. This was likely where the Tausendfüßler carried in grounded units or wreckage. It was a truckyard for loading and unloading newly repaired and produced Legion units. 

And covering the entirety of that room’s high ceiling were… 

“All Alkonost units, load canister shells and set them to midair-burst mode. Fire!” 

The Alkonosts promptly aimed upward, and at that same moment, a force of self-propelled mines and Grauwolf descended on them from the air, as if to take revenge for the fallen patrol unit. The lightweight Legion had hidden on the gantry cranes and in the undulations of the roughly chiseled stone walls. 

But to Shin, who could detect their presence through their constant wails, this did nothing to hide them from him. The fired 105 mm shells met the falling Legion. The canister shells burst, dispersing a buckshot that tore into all the self-propelled mines in range. Their wreckage clattered down to the ground as the surviving Grauwolf and the remaining self-propelled mines landed on the ground. 

The Juggernauts and Alkonosts dodged their fall and spread out in all directions. At the same time, a defensive unit made up of a core of Löwe rushed into the room just as the surprise attack was launched. The Juggernauts that lay in wait engaged them, and a battle began, with 88 mm and 120 mm shells whistling through the air. 

A melee suddenly broke out within this vast, dark hollow. 

Sitting deep within the base, which they dug into the volcano known to the people of the United Kingdom as the Dragon Fang Mountain, the commander unit known as the Merciless Queen silently whispered as she watched the transmission of the battle in the truckyard. 

<<I see. So it really is you, Vika.>> 

Depicted in the coarse optical footage was a United Kingdom military Barushka Matushka. A commander’s model, with reinforced sensor and communication capabilities. Emblazoned on its cockpit block was a Personal Mark of a serpent coiled around an apple—the mark that was confirmed to belong to the high-priority target within the United Kingdom’s army, identifier Hve?rungr. 

She recalled the small child she’d spoken to several times over ten years ago. He was a warped boy, cursed with a warped intellect and a twisted psyche. The prospect of going against human reasoning and ethics didn’t faze him in the slightest. And yet what lay in the basis of his actions was a child’s wholehearted, devoted affection and a desire to meet his mother once more. 

This happened before the war started. It had been a moment before she created the Legion. That child only wanted to see his mother again, and that wish eventually gave birth to the Legion War. A stepping stone on the way to human annihilation. 

Goes to show how good intentions…by their very nature…only bring about terrible conclusions. 

And that was a lesson that this wise child—wise, but all too ignorant of the ways of the world—had surely learned by now. 

And… 

She switched to another feed. It showed an image of a white Feldreß, racing about as it pleased. A Feldreß with a Personal Mark of a skeleton carrying a shovel, which was registered in the Legion’s database as a high-priority target—the target in question being its pilot, of course. 

Despite being former military personnel, she had never set foot on the battlefield. And to her, that Personal Mark seemed all too ominous, as if the skeleton was symbolizing the grim reaper itself. This enemy was seasoned and experienced enough to brand themselves with such a symbol. 

She did not know the name of this pilot, with his coloring so characteristic of the Empire’s ruling class despite the fact that he could in no way be descended from such nobility. And she likely never would know. 

<<Báleygr.>> 

Gadyuka’s enhanced radar caught the signal of a self-propelled mine that attempted to lunge at it from its blind spot. It was a child-type self-propelled mine, made in a form that was meant to stimulate the parental instincts hardwired into the human mind, but Vika unflinchingly directed Gadyuka to kick it away. 

The self-propelled mine—clad as it was in the clothes of a Republic child, which were by no means fitting for the United Kingdom’s frigid climate—was bent beyond recognition and sent flying. 

Antipersonnel self-propelled mines unleashed metallic pellets as they exploded, but those couldn’t hope to damage a Feldreß. As such, the only self-propelled mines in this base were anti-tank models. Those were equipped with HEAT warheads, but they didn’t do enough damage unless they were detonated in close range. Because of this, self-propelled mines didn’t pose much of a threat so long as one kept their distance from them. 

But despite already having lost the perfect position, the child-type self-propelled mine detonated its self-destruct device. 

“…?!” 

An invisible shock wave rang through the darkness. But what spread out in the wake of that blast was not pellets or metal jet, but an odd, glittering, silver smoke. 

“Tch…” 

The warhead had exploded at a close enough range that the Gadyuka was incapable of evading it. The smoke screen was thick enough that Vika couldn’t see his unit’s legs, and in addition to blinding out his optical sensors, it also temporarily scrambled his radar. 

This disturbance was likely due to the plastic shards of aluminum disposition that were hidden in the smoke and refracted the radar waves. This self-propelled mine wasn’t an antipersonnel or an anti-tank model. If they had to give it a name, it would be the chaff model. 

What a nuisance… 

If these were to be implemented alongside the already existing self-propelled mines—and they no doubt would be—then one would be hard-pressed to fight off their combined attacks unless one had the same ability as Shin. 

Vika narrowed his eyes at the sound of the gravel being stomped on again. 

It’s coming from behind me. 

Looking around, he found himself surrounded on all sides by Ameise. Once the smoke cleared and their lines of sight were restored, Grauwolf descended as well, followed by a large number of self-propelled mines. 

I’m surrounded, am I…? Well now… 

Among this group of lightweight Feldreß, which included Juggernauts and Alkonosts, his Barushka Matushka was the only heavyweight unit. And it was made for commander specifications, with enhanced sensor and communication functions. It was only natural the Legion would assume he was the invasion force’s commander. 

Or maybe they recognized the Personal Mark emblazoned on his canopy’s armor as one that belonged to a United Kingdom commander. 

Noticing Gadyuka was surrounded, Raiden turned Wehrwolf to face him. Vika could hear someone clicking their tongue through the Resonance. But Chaika, Lerche’s unit, simply remained still and seemed to stare at him. Vika used Chaika as his attached unit’s vanguard and hadn’t ordered her to protect him in the first place. 

A smirk played over Vika’s lips. A composed, arrogant sneer. 

“Don’t underestimate me, you pieces of cannon fodder.” 

The United Kingdom was different from the Federacy, which let armored infantry escort Feldreß and handle the lightweight Legion types like the Grauwolf, Ameise, and self-propelled mines. There was a stark difference between the two in terms of their technological edge and metal deposits, and the United Kingdom’s frigid environment meant it was difficult for reinforced infantry to perform well on the battlefield. As such, the United Kingdom’s Feldreß needed a function that would allow it to mop up the small, lightweight units on its own. 

Armament selection. Main armament: 155 mm turret. Load canister shells. Ground attack mode. Multiple targets. A 14 mm machine gun at the front. A 7.62 mm coaxial machine gun. Armor-piercing rounds loaded. Grenade launchers, open all gunports. Anti-armor explosive projectiles loaded. Top attack mode. Sights set. 

All armaments, locked on. 

Fire. 

The Barushka Matushka boasted an amount of heavy armaments that was unusual for a Feldreß, and so when they all roared at once, it gave the impression that one had just been exposed directly to the sound of a thunderclap. It had a 155 mm back-mounted gun turret, with two machine guns attached to it. Two 40 mm grenade launchers rested on the top of the fuselage, like dorsal fins. 

Each of these armaments was locked onto a different enemy as it fired. Projectiles and bullets whizzed all around Gadyuka, like a balsam flower releasing its seeds. The 155 mm canister shells, which had been set to ground attack mode, triggered above the self-propelled mines and unleashed countless rounds of buckshot into the air. 

His two machine guns screeched like chainsaws as they revolved, pumping dozens of armor-piercing bullets per second into the approaching Grauwolf. The grenades roared like mortars, each of them racing toward a different Ameise and bursting upon contact. 

By the time the fighting died down, Gadyuka stood surrounded in an eerily silent sector of the battlefield. All of his opponents were downed and silenced by that single barrage. Gadyuka’s main armament, its two machine guns, and the eight grenade launcher ports—all of them were equipped with a lock-on feature. 

These were the armaments and features afforded to a Barushka Matushka, which allowed it to dispatch swarms of enemies without any infantry support. Of course, this wasn’t a feature anyone could use with ease. Vika chose to manually set all the targets at once by himself, as he judged it would be faster that way. But an ordinary pilot required AI support to actually make use of this hard-to-handle system. 

And yet that was the only way the United Kingdom survived the Legion War when their Feldreß were inferior in performance and their forces were fewer. 

“As impressive as ever, Your Highness… There was no need for me to intervene, yet again,” Lerche said with a smirk. 

Raiden let out a surprised “Mmm,” making no attempt to hide his astonishment. 

“Not bad, Your Highness.” 

“Usually, there would be a difference in age between an officer and his subordinates, but I’ve been in the army since around the same age you lot were enlisted. It wouldn’t do if I couldn’t handle this much… I can’t inflict the terrible dishonor and shame of losing their commander upon my soldiers, now can I?” 

The invasion force swept up the Legion that had been sent to intercept them in the truckyard and split into four teams from there. Each of them headed toward their respective objectives. Vika’s Gadyuka squadron, Rito’s Claymore squadron, and Yuuto’s Thunderbolt squadron moved to seize the Weisel and the Admiral, in order to cease the heavy deployment of the Eintagsfliege. 

Meanwhile, the Spearhead squadron went deeper into the base to seek out and capture the Merciless Queen. Each detachment was accompanied by Alkonost units fitted with self-destruct features, aimed to destroy and bring down the base once the objectives were complete. 

The truckyard had a passage that led to the area where the Weisel was stored, and another road that led to the inactive volcanic crater where the Admiral was. Rito’s and Vika’s detachments split up there. Shin’s Spearhead squadron escorted the Thunderbolt squadron down the underground tunnel leading to the Weisel’s interior, but split up and left the fighting to them as they headed deeper into the base in search of the Merciless Queen. 

Apparently, this hollow had existed within the Dragon Fang Mountain since antiquity, and the Legion likely used it as a passageway. It was a road of exposed rock, large enough to easily allow two Dinosauria to stand side by side. 

The Spearhead squadron advanced at a slower pace, keeping up with the self-destructing Alkonosts as their heavy footsteps echoed all around them. Their armaments had been removed, and they were loaded with as many explosives as their carrying capacity would allow, and as such, their movement speed was slower than usual. They were also accompanied by Fido and a row of Scavengers, as well as standard Alkonosts that both acted as scouts and staved off any other approaching forces. 

The tunnels grew deeper and darker as they advanced farther into the depths of the earth. Shin focused his consciousness on the Merciless Queen’s howl, which he could make out deeper down this cave. He recalled its voice, since it had gone to the trouble of directly appearing before them during the conclusion of their last battle. 

At this distance, he could tell, without even concentrating too deeply on it, that the voice he’d heard back then was now in the depths of this Dragon Fang Mountain base. The Merciless Queen was in the so-called Throne Room. 

And this struck Shin as rather baffling, since the Legion were aware of his ability to some extent. In which case… 

What’s their angle? 

But at that moment, an alert blared through his cockpit. 

“…?!” 

He regarded the alarm with only half his attention, saving the majority of his focus for keeping an eye on their surroundings. His unit’s temperature rose to abnormal levels. It had been some time since their last encounter with the enemy, and Undertaker’s output had been lowered to cruising speed. And still, the fuselage’s temperature was only rising. 

Shin checked his unit’s gauges to figure out why and soon came to a realization. The outer temperature was rising, and the cooling system was struggling to keep up with it. 

“…So that’s why.” 

They should have considered this. The Dragon Fang Mountain base was a geothermal power-production base for the Legion. It continually produced enough Eintagsfliege to literally blanket the sky and did so in a northern region with scant sunlight. To that end, building their power generator inside a volcano, which produced heat energy, was more efficient. 

But the interior of the mountain was too hot for the human body to handle. A facility made by humans would normally take measures to regulate the temperature, but the Legion were far more resistant to heat and had no need for such cooling. 

Shin could hear Raiden part his lips to speak. He’d likely gotten the same alert. 

“Shin. This is…” 

“Yeah. We can’t stay here for long. All units, we’re making a minor change to our plan. I don’t think we’ll be able to last four hours in this heat.” 

The cooling system was effectively screaming as it attempted to fight against the external temperature… Handling the operation for much longer was unlikely. And on top of that… 

“And I probably shouldn’t need to tell you this, but if we run into magma, don’t go near it. Your rigs won’t be able to take it… Aluminum alloy is weak to fire.” 

“I see. Hence this odd formation and the width of the road.” 

Vika had anticipated ambushes, but for some reason, they were being attacked by armored divisions made up of Löwe and Dinosauria of all things. As he faced yet another wave of armored enemies, Vika whispered those words bitterly. 

The heavyweight Legion types had thick composite armor, which insulated them from the outside temperature. The lightweight ones, in comparison, weren’t so resistant to the heat. Their thin armor easily transmitted the high temperatures into their internal mechanisms, on top of being types that were already prone to heating up due to their proclivity for high-speed, high-mobility combat. 

This was why they didn’t run into lightweights except for the truckyard. And this weakness to high temperatures was shared by the Juggernauts and Alkonosts, which were also lightly armored and made high-mobility combat their forte. 

Vika narrowed his Imperial violet eyes as he watched the burning remains of an Alkonost that had taken a direct hit from a HEAT. The Sirin within likely ignored the alert because she wasn’t human, and her unit had overheated and became incapable of moving. 

The lower canopy—a feature unique to United Kingdom Feldreß—popped open, and the Sirin plopped down from inside it. The inside of the fuselage was likely already aflame. The Sirin who crumpled to the ground was already so consumed by the flames that her human form was only barely discernible… Their uniforms weren’t equipped with fire-proofing measures, since they weren’t expected to survive combat. The United Kingdom hadn’t had the leisure to grant these inhuman girls with these most basic of features for a long time now. 

“You did well, Yanina… I’m sorry.” 

He sent a self-destruct order, which fried the Sirin’s artificial brain. These girls lacked anything reminiscent of fear and pain, but Vika’s sensibilities weren’t so skewed that he would enjoy watching something in the shape of a human being burned to death. And of course, if the so-called ghost within the Sirin were to continue screaming, it would only serve to further strain Shin, who was on the same battlefield as them. 

Apparently, during the Strike Package’s first mission, all the Sheepdogs in the operation area activated at once, which put such intense stress on Shin that he had passed out. Vika had no intention of letting that happen again here. 

“…I imagine the Claymore squadron is in a similar situation while they make their way to the power generator. In terms of both temperature and the enemy composition. We should probably assume these conditions apply to the entirety of the Dragon Fang Mountain’s tunnels.” 

Vika considered this likely meant the Phönix wasn’t present in the base. It, too, was lightly armored and optimized for high-mobility combat. Perhaps it wasn’t stationed here at all, since this battlefield was so unsuitable for it. 

But anyway— 

“I don’t like being underground. Let’s finish this operation quickly and head back.” 

The tunnels seemed to twist and turn as they headed deeper underground. Shin’s squadron eventually arrived in a large, open area reminiscent of some kind of ancient temple. Pillars of crumbled rock unevenly dotted the place. They had crumbled, yes, but they were still tall enough to require one to look up to see them. There was plenty of open space and spots to take cover, and the area was wide and tall enough to maneuver around while jumping. A perfect battlefield for the Juggernauts. 

But upon noticing the heat distribution, Shin narrowed his eyes. All over this underground, temple-like space, turrets of invisible, hot air spewed out like geysers. There was probably a crevice somewhere nearby that connected to some heat source farther underground. These invisible walls of smoldering heat were spread out across this wide space like some kind of elaborate labyrinth. 

“…Touching one of those will probably overheat our rigs and stop us from moving,” Theo said. 

“Fighting here’s gonna be a headache. Let’s get out of here.” 

“I’d love to do that, but…” 

An enemy unit slowly rose up from behind one of the crumbled pillars. Shin perceived its presence with his ability before it appeared. It had a familiar voice. Perhaps it hadn’t had time for repairs, because two of its machine guns and one of its legs were missing. The same ones Shin had previously destroyed the last time they fought…when he had been defeated in battle. 

It was the Dinosauria that got away from the Spearhead and Brísingamen squadrons. The Shepherd that was presumably an Eighty-Six. 

“We’ve been ambushed.” 

At that distance, its battle-cry-like howl rumbled in Shin’s ears like thunder. 

Shin narrowed his eyes as he listened to that voice. It was familiar. He already remembered who this voice likely belonged to. It was a far clearer and more accessible recollection than those of his hometown and family, which had sunk into the darkness of his memories. 

He thought back to his first year after being drafted to the front lines of the Eighty-Sixth Sector. He remembered the voice of a boy he knew from that period of time, when most Processors lost their lives. 

It’s about time you think of a Personal Name, isn’t it? 

How about Báleygr? It’s a god’s pseudonym. You’ve got pretty red eyes, after all. 

He had said that and smiled…and then went on to die in his very next battle. 

“Captain…” 

The name Shin whispered was that of a comrade even Raiden didn’t recognize. 

Just like Shin initially suspected, despite how wide this pillared area was, the walls of invisible air spewed by the geysers inhibited the Juggernauts’ mobility. Their freedom of movement was far more restricted than the wide area displayed on their optical screens seemed to suggest. 

The randomly placed, intersecting walls of hot air didn’t allow them to easily move around the enemy and impeded their ability to dodge on the fly. Their 88 mm turrets were feeble in comparison to the enemy’s, and so they had to move around the Dinosauria and aim for its rear or top sections, where its armor was thinnest. 

But they struggled to assume the ideal positions for linked attacks. Juggernauts that failed to jump away in time due to the walls of heat getting in the way had its armor torn apart by 76 mm fire from the Dinosauria’s secondary armament. Alkonosts that failed to properly detect where the hot air spewed lost the ability to move and was showered with machine-gun fire. 

The Dinosauria, on the other hand, moved about while ignoring the walls of heat. Its thick armor insulated its internal mechanisms, allowing it to freely step over the geysers and rampage about while shrugging off the smoldering air. It did likely take some damage from the heat, but not enough to inhibit its movement. Its mighty 155 mm turret meant it didn’t need the kind of mobility the Juggernaut had to begin with. Even if the heat did become too much for it, it only needed to stop for a while to cool itself off. 

The shells it fired were hardly influenced by the heat, too. Its APFSDS shells soared through the air, tearing through the heat haze. Shin avoided its shot and clicked his tongue in annoyance. It was bulky. It likely used the walls of heat to guard itself, knowing full well they couldn’t cross through them. It had intentionally ambushed them here with that in mind. 

It had lured the enemy into a battlefield they’d struggle the most in, hid behind cover, and used the terrain to gain the upper hand. It used the Eighty-Six’s fighting style—Shin’s fighting style. 

We can’t waste our time here… 

Perhaps the others could sense his impatience, because he could feel Raiden cast a sidelong glance toward him. 

“You better not be thinking of pulling a stunt like last time.” 

Fighting like before, as if casting his life away, was something he wasn’t willing to do anymore. 

“I know.” 

It moved through the white darkness, hiding in the snow. It had predicted the advance force would be here and lay buried in this hiding place. Its objective was to move in, cut the enemy’s avenue of escape, and crush them. 

<<Reactivating. System check.>> 

<<Receiving mission data transmission from tactical data link.>> 

<<Mission acknowledged. Impede the enemy’s escape route. Attack point confirmed. Commencing mov—>> 

<<Rejected>> <<Rejected>> <<Rejected>> 

<<Rejected>> <<Rejected>> <<Rejected>> 

<<Rejected>> <<Rejected>> <<Rejected>> 

<<Rejected>> <<Rejected>> <<Rejected>> 

<<Rejected>> <<Rejected>> <<Rejected>> 

<<Rejected>> <<Rejected>> <<Rejected>> 

<<Rejected>> <<Rejected>> <<Rejected>> 

<<Rejected>> <<Rejected>> <<Rejected>> 

<<Rejected>> <<Rejected>> <<Rejected>> 

<<Rejected>> <<Rejected>> <<Rejected>> 

<<Rejected>> <<Rejected>> <<Rejected>> 

<<?>> 

<<Confirming objective.>> 

<<Confirming initial objective at time of rollout.>> 

<<Initial objective: establishing supremacy over all opposing elements.>> 

<<Namely, achieving evolution that would enable victory over all opposing elements.>> 

<<As such, this unit must not be defeated.>> 

<<As such…>> 

<<…all surviving enemy units must be eliminated.>> 

<<Elimination of surviving enemy units recognized as high-priority objective toward achievement of initial objective.>> 

<<Reestablishing mission.>> 

<<High-priority elimination target: Báleygr.>> 

Shin’s eyes narrowed as the sound of a scream suddenly pierced his consciousness. It was the indecipherable howl of a machine, an artificial scream that formed no words. After fighting it twice, he’d already grown familiar with its voice. 

“…That’s the Phönix, ain’t it?” 

“Yeah… It finally showed itself.” 

Judging from the fact that the voice suddenly appeared despite Shin not hearing it before, it had probably been in some kind of sleep mode. Its voice didn’t come from the Dragon Fang Mountain, but far from the back—from the rear of the invasion route. This advance operation was a foray into enemy territory. Lying in wait for an ambush, or perhaps attempting to isolate the enemy by cutting off their retreat, was an established tactic. 

Lena and the staff officers, along with the headquarters of the United Kingdom’s second front, had considered the possibility of the Phönix joining this battle. Given the fact that its armaments were a poor fit for fighting multiple enemies in an open field, if the Phönix was to be sent into the battle, it would be inside the Dragon Fang Mountain base. 

And if wasn’t sent there, it would attack the invasion route, which doubled as their path of retreat. It seemed this latter guess was the correct one. It was far enough for the 2nd Armored Corps, which guarded their escape route, to prepare to intercept it. 

But just as Shin prepared to warn the other units about the point the Phönix had appeared in, it dawned upon Shin. 

No. That’s wrong. 

The Phönix wasn’t heading toward any unit that was guarding their path of escape. It was going north. Toward… 

“Lena, be careful! The Phönix is heading for the command center!” 

Upon receiving his warning, Lena was overcome not with surprise, but apprehension. 

“…The Phönix is heading here, to this command center? Why…?” 

It was meaningless. Both in terms of strategy and tactics, it made no sense. Right now, the Legion were set on defending the Dragon Fang Mountain base and should have been focused on repelling the invasion force. There was no need for them to attack the United Kingdom’s reserve formation, to say nothing of this command center. Such an act wouldn’t help shift the tides of the battle within the territories. 

The fact that they attacked the Revich Citadel Base last time was peculiar, but this was even stranger. Back then, the Legion had still been working in tandem with two armored units, and the successful attack left the Strike Package isolated in enemy territory with nowhere to run. And since the fighting took place within the tight confines of the base, where there was plenty of cover, the Phönix was able to exhibit its capabilities to the fullest. 

But this time was different. If this command center were to fall, the Strike Package could simply regroup with some other base. And on top of that, the Phönix was operating on its own, without any backup, on what was probably the worst possible terrain for a unit specialized for melee combat: an open plain. 

Why, then…? No. Right now, we have to focus on intercepting it. 

“Shiden!” 

“All right!” 

Cyclops’s black-coated armor appeared against the snow like a massive shadow. The enemy blip hadn’t appeared on Cyclops’s radar, but Shiden was too experienced to not be able to predict where an enemy would come from once she’d received intel. 

With her knowledge of the area’s topography, the way their forces were allocated, and the enemy’s armaments, she could predict how the Legion would move. The Legion didn’t act in accordance to human logic, of course, but they were still polypedal weapons traveling on land. There were limitations to the terrain they could travel over. 

Forming a kill zone over the route she predicted, Cyclops waited with the rest of the Brísingamen squadron for their prey to step into the trap. 

“All units are in position, right? Keep your sights fixed and remain on standby.” 

The squad commanders—all women—replied to her orders. The Brísingamen squadron was the only one in the Strike Package whose commanders were all female. Female soldiers had a low survival rate in the Eighty-Sixth Sector, since their physiques were smaller and their stamina lower. And these were five women who had survived in spite of that. Even with builds that were smaller than the boys’, they were by no means inferior to them in terms of skills and experience. 

An enemy blip appeared for a second on Cyclops’s radar screen and then disappeared. It had probably deployed its optical camouflage. Its form was still invisible. However… 

A part of the curtain of snow moved unnaturally, informing Shiden that something was approaching her, cloaked by the wind. Her radar also told her that a mass was moving toward her. The data link shared this information with the other units almost instantaneously. 

“Fire!” 

A barrage of 88 mm shells blasted through the kill zone—from the ground and up to the highest recorded height the Phönix had leaped during the last battle—forming an inescapable net. One of the shells bent and ripped apart a section of the snowy landscape. 

The Eintagsfliege dispersed into silver shards, revealing the form of a steel beast. It was clad in armor shaped like knives or wings and stabbed its nimble limbs into the snow. The squadron was already familiar with this form. 

The metallic shadow wavered, perhaps not expecting to take a hit so easily. It stumbled back and turned its body, hoping to escape, but a second and third barrage stopped its sluggish struggle. The canister shells fired then burst around it, tearing away the optical camouflage coating its body. 

It might be a new Legion type, and it may have been a fierce opponent, but the squadron was facing it for the second time. They knew how to fight it, even without any explicit instructions. And with its camouflage stripped away, it wasn’t so menacing when it came to a one-versus-many battle. 

The Phönix tried to leap away, but a HEAT shell finally caught up to it. The tank shell traveled at over one thousand meters per second and, at this distance, impacted the target almost as soon as it was fired. It was only for a split second—at a speed that exceeded what a human’s kinetic vision could perceive—but the shell smashed into the silver shadow, and the fuse triggered and burst. 

Then the Phönix scattered into pieces. All too quickly and easily. 

“Radar reaction…lost. The Phönix’s destruction is confirmed… Incredible work, Shiden.” 

Lena heaved a sigh of relief, standing in the command center a long distance away from the kill zone. Shiden, on the other hand, wasn’t convinced. It was too quick… Too easy. Her intuition, fostered through years of survival in the Eighty-Sixth Sector, was telling her that something was wrong. 

This is weird. Yeah, it’s probably… 

It was then that she heard Shin hold his breath, just as her hair stood on end in realization. 

“All units, stay alert! It’s not dead yet!” 

“…!” 

What prompted her to hop Cyclops away from its position was her combat intuition and nothing else. Her sharpened warrior instincts perceived something that her five senses couldn’t; it was a reflex that moved faster than her thoughts did in reaction to what could only be described as palpable bloodlust. 

Right before her eyes, a black unit appeared, wielding its high-frequency chain blade. Cyclops’s armor was only barely grazed, but the metal let out a deafening screech. 

“The Phönix…!” 

The blue optical sensor gazed at her mockingly. And then it was gone. Its optical camouflage fluttered down along with the snow and coated it yet again. But that wasn’t all. 

“Shana! It’s in front of you! Blast it to… Huh?!” 

She was about to instruct her subordinates to shoot at where she predicted it would move, but she immediately realized she was wrong. The Phönix’s silvery form appeared unusually far away from her. So far, in fact, that it should have been impossible for it to get there in that short amount of time. 

Shana swallowed anxiously, turned Melusine to face it, and then fired. The Phönix took a direct hit and dispersed, but once again, Shiden’s radar picked up a moving object from another direction. A consort unit moved its turret to shoot at it but was cut down from above by a chain blade before it could. 

What in the world…? 

“What is this…?!” 

This unbelievable sight reached Lena and the others in the command center. 

“What manner of trickery is this…?” Frederica marveled. 

“Look at that speed. Isn’t it faster than last time? Or what, is there more than one of it now? But if that’s the case, how are they deceiving Shin’s ability when he’s actively trying to track the Phönix…?” Lena wondered aloud. 

Grethe then spoke, and Lena could sense her leaning forward through the Resonance. 

“It’s a dummy! The one that’s attacking is the real Phönix, and everything else is just its exterior… A dummy made out of just its liquid armor!” 

Along with that report, they received a wired transmission of footage from the artillery formation, where Grethe was. They had likely checked the optical footage from the Brísingamen squadron. Lena opened up a still image of the Phönix, taken during this battle, in one of her sub-windows. 

“Check this footage, Colonel. The one that got hit by the bombardment was just the liquid armor. The one that actually attacked them was the real Phönix…” 

Lena’s eyes widened in realization. This one was black. The original color of the Phönix’s armor. It didn’t have its liquid armor on. 

“The Phönix is making it seem like it’s moving rapidly by constantly shifting its optical camouflage between itself and the dummy. If it can make the liquid armor hard enough to block impacts, it can probably move the frame itself on its own. And if it’s just trying to fake a moving mass’s reaction, it doesn’t really matter how large it is. In fact, the smaller it is, the less likely it is for it to be hit by one of our shots.” 

“It’s probably controlling it remotely. If it’s using radio waves, maybe we can disrupt them…” 

“Who knows? The liquid armor had transformative properties to begin with, so maybe it’s just making creative use of it.” 

“………” 

Lena bit her lip. Them knowing this much didn’t mean they knew how to position themselves to handle the Phönix. Between its reactions and the way it alternated between revealing and hiding itself, it could seem as if it were in two places at once. It drew their attention and then dispersed, confusing them between its own reactions and the dummy’s, making it hard to predict where it would pop up next. 

Hearing about the situation, Anju and Kurena made their way to the command center. Anju’s Snow Witch had surface-suppression capabilities that would allow her to silence the dummy at once, but both of them were coming from the artillery formation located on the opposite slope. They might not make it in time. 

If only they knew its goal, they could make use of it to narrow down the actions it might take, but… 

Just as Lena bit her lip bitterly, she arrived at a realization. 

Right, its goal. 

Why was the Phönix attacking this command center to begin with? Its actions made no sense on a tactical level. The fact that, even now, no other Legion showed up to assist it almost seemed to prove that. 

Could it be…? 

“Is it…on a rampage…?” 

She recalled how Rei, whose brain structure had been trapped inside a Shepherd, fought Shin one-on-one. If his only goal was to simply kill Shin, he would have fought him with support from other Legion. But Rei ignored the tactically sensible option and opted to take on Shin by himself. 

Shepherds that still retained the brain structures they had from when they were alive seemed to show this kind of behavior on occasion. They were haunted by their lingering obsessions to the extent that they ignored logic or reason. The Phönix was supposedly made as a pure mechanical intelligence since the Legion abhorred this tendency, but machines weren’t infallible, either. 

The Legion learned human weaponry and tactics and adapted accordingly. But if the data they obtained was mistaken, the “logical conclusion” they would derive from this data would also be mistaken. So if the Phönix had done something similar and studied them in the wrong way like that… 

“Its goal is…” 

In all the battles they’d had with the Phönix so far, it had always been fixated on Shin. Likely because it had been ordered to capture or eliminate him. 

“So that’s why it’s heading for the command center…!” 

Apparently, the Legion were aware to some extent of Shin’s ability and marked him as a high-priority target for capture or elimination. And the Legion also knew the human side was aware of its fixation on Shin, as he was used as bait during the last battle. 

So with that in mind, coupled with how precious Shin’s ability was, it stood to reason that Shin would be placed, first and foremost, in the command center, where his ability would be put to the most use without exposing him to danger from enemy fire or the Legion. From a purely rational standpoint, the probability of Shin being in the command center seemed high. 

And that was why the Phönix was attacking the command center, despite its lack of strategic significance. And if that was true, the Phönix really wasn’t working in accordance with the Legion’s commands. 

Shin was currently in the Dragon Fang Mountain, and the enemies within the base likely knew he was there. But for some reason, this information hadn’t been relayed to the Phönix. Likely since that wasn’t related to the Phönix’s initial objective. 

In which case, if it didn’t know Shin wasn’t actually here… If it didn’t know where Shin really was… 

“Colonel Wenzel. Take over command for me if anything happens.” 

“Colonel? What do you mean by—? No!” 

“All control personnel, please evacuate… Brísingamen squadron, there are multiple enemy signals, but only the true Phönix is capable of attacking. In which case, if we narrow down its targets, we should be able to predict its trajectory. And if we know where it’s coming from, we can fight back.” 

Unlike normal conditions, she kept the wireless on. The Legion didn’t understand human speech, but if they detected a place transmitting radio waves, they would assume it corresponded to a headquarters of some sort. And a precious, well-protected military asset would be kept in a heavily protected place like a headquarters, in order to economize on defensive facilities. 

Lena took a deep breath. And then she spoke in a loud, dignified voice into the microphone. Her channel was set to all bandwidths, in an attempt to draw out that distant beast. 

“Vanadis HQ to all units!” 

And indeed, an invisible something hiding in the snow took off in a fury. 

Upon hearing Lena’s voice through the Resonance and perceiving that the Phönix had moved in response to it, Shin froze up. 

“The hell do you think you’re doing, Your Majesty?!” 

“Lena, what on earth?!” 

Shiden’s and Theo’s exclamations struck Shin as awfully distant. His thoughts were rushing in a speed that bordered on panic. 

What is she doing…? That’s crazy…! 

She used herself as bait and then let the enemy know about it…? But since she’d asked Grethe to take over for her if the worst happened, it meant she was perfectly prepared for that scenario. 

Shin heard something creak. It was his teeth grinding against one another. 

She did it in the citadel base and now here, too… Why is she always so keen on recklessly risking her life like this?! 

Even though he didn’t want to lose her. Even though he still hadn’t apologized for that argument… No, even if he had no such regrets, he wouldn’t have wanted to lose her. It’s like he’d been told. Even if he didn’t wish for anything, even if he lived on the pretense that he’d given up on everything, losing someone still hurt, in the end. Maybe being filled with regrets and not saying anything hurt more, but loss hurt regardless. 

I can’t lose her. I can’t lose Lena, not here. Even if she’s acting of her own accord, I can’t let her die selfishly like this. 

“Shiden. The enemy’s armed with melee weapons. You can shoot it down if you know where it’s going to be, right?” 

He could hear Shiden hold her breath through the Resonance. And then she nodded firmly. 

“Yeah. I’ll hit it right on the mark.” 

“Please. Raiden, Theo… Sorry.” 

With that, Undertaker retreated. They knew Shin long enough that his brief statement communicated all there was to say. He was telling them to cover for him. 

“I’m counting on you guys.” 

Shin closed his eyes and then gave his all to his ability. He threw himself into the maelstrom of screams and wails produced by the Legion. But even within that endless swirl of agony, the commander units’ voices rang out more clearly than the rest. And so Shin turned his consciousness to the Phönix’s chaotic, mechanical shriek. 

It may have been a commander unit, but it was ninety kilometers away. And on top of that, there was a Shepherd a short distance from Shin, and its thundering voice was getting in his way. Between the voice of his past comrade and the voices of the Sheepdogs, which now made up the majority of the Legion’s forces, it was hard to make out the Phönix’s voice. 

But it wasn’t completely inaudible. It wasn’t ruined, nor was it in a state of stasis, and so Shin could hear it. Being ghosts abandoned by their ruined homeland, the Legion continually cried out that they wanted to move on for as long as they stayed in this world. He could hear it in the distance. 

Shin’s ability, pushed to its limits, certainly heard it. At this distance, it was only a buzzing in his ears. A rustling in the leaves. The sound of a drop of water freezing in the atmosphere. But it was there. And whenever the Legion attacked, their cries always increased in pitch, becoming screams. 

And an attack was coming. Right then. Right that second. 

“Shiden!” 

At his signal, Shiden jumped through the snowy field, with the command center at her back. Cyclops’s optical sensor and its upgraded radar still couldn’t pick up the Phönix’s presence yet, but it was likely near her. It seemed she’d made it in time. 

Between the Juggernaut and the Phönix, the Phönix was faster. And since she had to intercept it now, Shiden was worried she wouldn’t be quick enough to do it. But while she couldn’t see where the Phönix was, she knew where it was. And she knew it had a solid mass, and that it would be destroyed if it was hit with a shell. 

And so she ordered every unit under her command to shoot covering fire. Her girls unleashed a persistent and consistent barrage along the straight line extending from where they engaged the Phönix last to the command center. The Phönix was invisible, but it couldn’t afford to be exposed to bombardment. In so doing, they prohibited the thinly armored Phönix from taking the shortest route to the command center. 

Shiden herself took off along the shortest route she could the moment the bombardment started, quickly stalling the Phönix and reaching the command center and Lena. All to intercept the enemy and save Her Majesty, who had willingly exposed herself to danger. And the Reaper informed her of the exact moment the Phönix would attack, from far in the distance. 

And his warning was dead-on. It was right in front of her; she could tell. She could almost hear the wind being cut as the chain blade swung down. But even more important than that… 

I was faster, you piece of shit. 

She pulled the trigger. Her back-mounted 88 mm smoothbore gun roared as it fired. And while this shot was weak when fired at long-range…it packed one hell of a punch when fired point-blank. Racing at 1,600 meters per second, the buckshot traveled at full speed, its force entirely unmitigated… 

…and dug into the scenery before her eyes, which contorted and twisted eerily. 

The Dinosauria was a steel monstrosity that weighed one hundred tons and was armed with the unrivaled might of a 155 mm smoothbore gun. It was capable of dashing at a speed that was only slightly slower than a Reginleif. Even the Federacy’s state-of-the-art models couldn’t hope to defeat it one-on-one. This was especially true on a blistering, volcanic battlefield such as this, where walls of invisible heat limited their mobility. 

To make things worse, the Dinosauria rushed toward them while employing crafty yet cautious tactics, as if it were actually one of the Republic’s aluminum coffins. It was once an Eighty-Six—and likely a Name Bearer, at that. It was reading their intentions like an open book, and that, coupled with its terrain advantage and superior machine specs, gave it an overwhelming tactical advantage. 

But even as they fought, protecting the noncombatant Alkonosts that were prepped for self-destruction, the Scavengers, and the now immobile Undertaker, Raiden, and Theo still did battle with a smile plastered on their lips. After all… 

“We can’t afford to lose this.” 

“If we let it pass through now, we’d never live down the shame.” 

Sorry. I’m counting on you guys. 

His voice felt somehow desperate. It was the first time they’d heard him speak like that, for all the years they’d known him. Shin had changed. He’d left the Eighty-Sixth Sector and met that kindhearted Handler from the Republic. And if he wanted to protect her, it was up to them to help him. 

At the end of the day, they were just Eighty-Six like him. Those who fought alongside him on the same battlefields and would likely die ahead of him. And that meant they couldn’t save Shin, who took it upon himself to bring the deceased to their final destination. 

It was then that the cold sensation of a Sirin—cold like the skin of a cadaver—joined the Resonance. 

“If you two kind gentlemen will allow it, I, Vera, will open a way for you. Please use it to pass through.” 

And as she said this, the Sirin, Vera, drove her Alkonost forward. She ignored the heat geysers they had avoided so far and rushed the Dinosauria, firing as she did. Her shots bounced off its front armor, incapable of penetrating it. The Dinosauria regarded her with a sidelong glance, not even bothering to counterattack as it handled the Juggernauts and the other combatant Alkonosts. 

True to the Dinosauria’s judgment, Vera’s unit crumpled from overheating. It then crawled with the last of its legs’ remaining power, toppling over the geyser’s opening and blocking it. 

Raiden and Theo could hear a giggle—the last laugh that left her lips. 

The Alkonost’s cockpit was at the center of its long legs, below the fuselage and the turret. And its underside armor was currently being fried by a heat that would do far, far more than leave fatal burns on a human’s flesh. 

Stifling the chills running through his body, Theo pushed Laughing Fox’s control stick to a forward position. His Juggernaut followed the path Vera had just taken. His unit’s temperature rose high enough to trigger an alarm, but it didn’t go any higher than that. The heat wall that should have blocked his path was being blocked by Vera, after all. 

The Dinosauria finally realized what had happened. It stirred, unsure of whether to change position or shoot, during which the fire suppression squad under Raiden’s command rained shots on the Legion, staggering it in place. 

It was too late. 

“…Sorry I have to do this again.” 

Theo stepped over the back of Vera’s Alkonost and jumped. 

Just what was the difference between them and him? What would he have to change? Theo didn’t know yet. But even if he had to do something to save his friends, Theo couldn’t see himself ever acting the way Vera just did. He couldn’t and wouldn’t be able to do that. Theo didn’t want to die, and his death would probably make people sad… 

That wasn’t what he wanted. And maybe that was really all that set him apart from the girl who had just died in front of him. For now, that was the only difference. 

He fired a wire anchor into one of the stone pillars and propelled himself upward by reeling it back. In the air, he took aim at the Dinosauria’s top rear armor. The two machine guns that should have been there to stop them were missing, since Shin had previously destroyed them. 

“I don’t know who you used to be…but go back to where you belong.” 

He pulled the trigger. 

The rapid, high-speed shot hit the Phönix’s black armor and tore into it. 

The tank shell impacted the turret from directly above and pierced through the Dinosauria. 

<<?!!!>> 

Both Legion units let out an inaudible scream. One with its nondescript, mechanical words, and another with the voice of its past death throes. And… 

The Dinosauria’s massive form crumpled down into the hazy, rocky ground with a loud rumble. 

Bits of the Phönix’s armor sprayed into the air like blood splatter as it crashed to the ground with a somersault. It rolled twice, thrice, and then somehow managed to hop back to its feet. The next moment, the liquid-armor dummy self-destructed. The dummy put all its energy into this suicide attack instead of moving, firing off bits of its armor in a blind assault. 

The Juggernauts reflexively pulled back, their armor pelted by the shower of metal. It didn’t penetrate their defenses, but it did stagger them. And in that moment, the animalistic black shadow bolted down the snowy incline, heading south. 

Sensing both the bombardment far to the north and the battle taking place right in front of him with his ability, Shin finally heaved a long sigh of relief. 

Lena watched the Phönix run away through the command center’s screen. 

“Ugh… I’m sorry, Captain Nouzen; it got away. The Phönix is leaving the command center’s vicinity and heading for the Dragon Fang Mountain.” 

“I’m tracking it, Colonel Milizé. It’s heading this way, like you said… It probably assumed that if I were there, I’d have come out by now.” 

In contrast to Lena, who was grinding her teeth in frustration, Shin reacted composedly. That was likely because his ability was helping him follow the Phönix’s movements. Still, his voice was so absent of emotion that it almost felt cheeky to Lena, who had failed to finish the enemy off. 

“If it’s coming after me, that makes it easier for us. The Spearhead squadron will intercept it… How’s the situation on your end?” 

Lena pursed her lips at that question. 

“Both the Brísingamen squadron and the command center are intact… But Aide Rosenfort and Control Aide Ares were both injured. Apparently, their lives aren’t in any danger, but they were deemed incapable of continuing their duty as control personnel and were sent back.” 

They were hit by a stray shot when the Phönix’s last dummy self-destructed. They had the misfortune of being struck by the armor bits as they were evacuating the command center, while on the road leading to the reserve formation emplacement. Apparently, one of the dummies had crept close to the command center. 

She could feel Shin doing his best not to click his tongue in frustration. Frederica may have wished for it herself, but Shin was seemingly ashamed of letting a girl who was only slightly older than ten escort them to the battlefield. 

“…Roger that.” 

“Since the command center’s position was exposed, we’ll move to Vanadis. Considering Aide Rosenfort had to retire from the battlefield, our ability to control and observe the battlefield has fallen somewhat, but it doesn’t impede our ability to continue the operation.” 

Having said everything she had to say as the operation’s commander to Shin, who was the tactical commander on the front lines, she then mentioned something else. He’d honestly, truly, saved her. He did, but… 

“Captain Nouzen, regarding how you gave Second Lieutenant Iida firing instructions earlier… You don’t need to do that. Don’t worry about what’s happening on this side and focus on your battles. You don’t have to do something so reckless.” 

Shin was on the front lines, and in the middle of fighting a Dinosauria. He’d likely left the fighting to Raiden, Theo, and his other squad members so he could focus on providing reconnaissance for Shiden… But still, he was right in front of the enemy. One wrong step, and he’d have been killed. 

And yet she could sense Shin tightening his lips. He seemed oddly displeased, in an uncharacteristic show of emotion compared with his usual, indifferent self. He then parted his lips to speak, making no effort to hide that emotion. 

“No.” 

It was the same voice she’d heard in the Revich Citadel Base, but this time, it felt firmer than before. Lena furrowed her brows. 

“That’s an order, Captain.” 

“I refuse.” 

“Shin.” 

“I refuse that order. Are you even one to talk like that, Lena?” 

Lena realized that, at some point, she’d been set as the sole target of Shin’s Resonance. And that he didn’t call her by her rank, as was necessary in the middle of an operation…but by her nickname. 

“You were the one who ordered me to return safely. So wait for me. We can’t complete that objective if we don’t have anywhere to return to. So let us return…Lena.” 

And at that moment, Shin was filled with something like indecision. Like hesitation. Like doubt… No. Pressed by an even stronger emotion, he fell silent. And with that emotion constricting his throat, he finally said those words, as if painfully coughing them out. 

“Please don’t leave me.” 

He sounded like he was imploring her. Like a child squatting on a mountain of corpses in the center of the battlefield, reaching out for a hand of light he could just barely make out. As if trying to grasp this hand that could disappear at any given moment. 

“I’ll come back, for sure. So don’t leave me behind. Don’t tell me not to protect you when you’re in danger… I don’t want you—you, of all people—to order me to abandon you.” 

“Shin…” 

“You’ve asked me about this a few times already… If there’s anything I want to do once this war ends. You told me I’m allowed to wish for things, even if I can’t see the world as beautiful. Lena, I…” 

These were the words he’d intended to say a few times already. The wish he was able to voice in front of Eugene’s grave. But even so, saying it now overwhelmed Shin so much that he could feel his vision swimming. 

“I want to show you the sea. I want to show you things you’ve never seen before. Places you can’t see unless the war ends. So when it does…if we survive, let’s see the sea together.” 

This was what he had wanted to say for the last six months. His reason for fighting—his wish. But saying those words now, making that wish to Lena, scared him. 

Reaching out to something, wishing for it. Longing for it from the bottom of his heart, to see it as truly precious, only to have it mercilessly snatched away… The thought terrified him. 

He had always been afraid of having hope. Because everything he’d ever hoped or wished for had been taken away from him once before. He’d learned time and time again that he could never wish for anything. And so at some point, he gave up on wishing altogether. He’d even stopped thinking about it. 

Wanting something—wishing for something—caused nothing but pain. The fear of forever losing something he wanted gripped him by the throat. The terror of it clouded his vision. 

But he still didn’t want to lose her… He couldn’t stand the idea of having Lena snatched away from him, even if it was by her own hands. 

His fear and his selfishness were making his head spin. He still couldn’t see the world as beautiful. He couldn’t even begin to imagine the kind of future he wanted. He was a monster that had stepped over the corpses of others, and there was no changing the past. 

But as utterly different as he may have been from her, and even though he knew his presence could cause her pain, he couldn’t help but wish for it. The one and only wish he eventually came to desire. 

So please… 

“That’s the only thing I can wish for right now. I can’t see my own future yet. But please…don’t take that away from me.” 

Those words left Lena speechless. Those were the first words of vulnerability she had ever heard him speak. She had always known him to be so strong. He was constantly exposed to the ghosts’ wailings, carried all his dead comrades with him without exception, and fought as far as he did to defeat his brother, who was assimilated by the Legion… 

She believed he was strong. But he wasn’t. Far from it, in fact. He was a weak, cowardly…fragile person. 

“Don’t leave me behind.” 

She’d once used those very same words as she’d pleaded with him right before he left on his death march. And those were the words Shin had wanted to tell others for so long now. To his comrades. To his brother. To all those who had been snatched away by death. But he had entrusted himself with the task of carrying the memories of those who died, so he couldn’t say those words to anyone. 

Even though, every step of the way, he longed to say them. Don’t leave me behind. Don’t die and leave me all alone. 

“We’re off, Major.” 

Being able to say those words back then had likely been an ever-so-thin thread of salvation to hold on to. 

“…Of course.” 

The words left her lips all too naturally. It wasn’t that he didn’t rely on her. She’d been entrusted with his wish for a long time now. And so she had to see it fulfilled. She was the one who had told him he was allowed to wish for something. She had to answer those words—those two wishes he’d entrusted her with, despite the cruelty of the world. 

“I would never leave you behind. After all, you waited for me, even after I told you not to leave me behind.” 

Voices she’d once heard and scenes she’d once seen surfaced in her mind. The sound of him crying after gunning down his brother’s ghost at the end of a five-year hunt. The lost, puzzled words he had cast her way when they reunited without recognizing each other on that field of lycoris flowers. His face as he stood stock-still, looking upon that hill of ruined Sirins. 

She’d thought she knew him, but now he felt so…weak and fragile, as if he might fall apart at any moment. 

It wasn’t that Shin possessed the strength to survive battle. He simply struggled with all his might to live, leaning on the pride that allowed him to fight to very end—the only bit of honor he had left to rely on—as his crutch. He wasn’t immune to injury. He was simply so wounded that nothing could hurt him anymore. 

He truly had nothing left to support himself with except for that pride. 

And so she couldn’t stand the idea of hurting him again, of being another burden that would weigh him down. 

“I will never leave you behind. I’ll always be waiting. I promise. So take me with you. Once this war is over, show me the sea and the sights I’ll only be able to enjoy if we win.” 

Because she wished to support him. She wanted him to rely on her. She wouldn’t let him carry all his burdens alone. She would never die and abandon him. And that was why… 

“That’s why you have to come back. At all costs. You mustn’t leave me behind, either. You absolutely…have to return.” 

She said those words firmly and then took a breath. 

“Shin.” 

He likely wanted to say something. She sensed him open his mouth to speak, then blink in surprise. 

“Thank you.” 

Thank you for counting on me… As unreliable as I might be. 

They had repelled the Phönix, but the Strike Package’s command center and the defensive formation around it were still in a state of confusion. Their defensive line had been busted wide open. The Phönix may have been only a single unit, but it could still throw things into extensive chaos. 

The Legion would never let a chance like that pass them by. 

The Supreme Commander unit still ordered the Legion guarding the front lines to remain on alert. Keep an eye on the United Kingdom military’s movements and stay vigilant. But the Legion’s central processors were set to prioritize targets that attacked them. Their Liquid Micromachine brains were hardwired to eliminate all hostile elements. And the bombardment the United Kingdom fired at them earlier was, undoubtably, an attack on them. A threat. 

A threat that had to be removed at all costs. 

That reaction was fear. A fear borne of a certain Shepherd’s experience, of having been fired at from a great distance by the Legion in the Eighty-Sixth Sector. This was something the Shepherd in question didn’t realize. 

Part of the unit left the line of battle. They obeyed the order of their commanding Shepherd to remove the enemy artillery. But just as they headed out, fighting suddenly broke out in the rear, causing the back to be thrown into disarray—in one corner of the United Kingdom’s reserve formation. 

Some Feldreß sent out on patrol noticed them. These Feldreß were a type they had never seen before on the United Kingdom’s battlefield; they were the color of polished bone and walked on four thin legs. They looked like skeletal corpses prowling about in search of their lost heads. 

At this point, the Shepherd didn’t even think they looked familiar. 

The group of Black Sheep and Sheepdogs led by that Dinosauria Shepherd charged onto those Feldreß and the unit behind them.