The World of Otome Games is Tough For Mobs - Volume 13 - Chapter 6

Chapter 6:

The Enormous Fleet

“SO WE’RE EVEN BRINGING Leon’s island along,” Angie remarked sadly from the Licorne’s bridge. She gazed through the glass down at the island she had such fond memories of. It had been turned into a runway for battleships, complete with a simple harbor where repairs and adjustments could be made.

Livia pressed her hands and forehead to the window. “It used to be so beautiful. It looks nothing like I remember.”

When the island belonged to Leon, it’d had its own hot spring. Luxion’s robots had cultivated the natural environment to create fields, making it lush and beautiful. All those had been trimmed away in preparation for the battle with the empire. The island looked more disorderly now, with a haphazard runway and rudimentary buildings. What Angie and Livia remembered was almost entirely gone, and they struggled to hide their sadness and disappointment.

Cleare hovered close to the transplanted Sacred Tree Sapling, watching as the two were swept up by deep emotion.

“We made some special adjustments to the island long beforehand, which unfortunately rendered it pivotal to this mission,” she explained. “There was no way around that.”

They had, in fact, brought three floating islands for the battle, each fitted to a different purpose. One was designed to accommodate downed supply ships, and one was even equipped with a fortress-like structure.

Angie clenched a fist and pressed it to her chest. “I understand that, but I can’t help feeling sad, seeing a place I have such fond memories of turned into something unrecognizable.” She would never forget the walks the three of them had taken around the island and how novel the experience was.

“Will it be able to go back to the way it was after the war?” asked Livia, who shared Angie’s sentiments.

“But of course!” Cleare cheerfully replied.

Angie and Livia glanced at each other, both forcing smiles. For the moment, all they could do was accept Cleare’s assurances.

Noelle studied the two. She’d just finished using the Licorne’s onboard transmitter, which was why she hadn’t inserted herself into the conversation, although she’d listened to it all.

“I heard before that Leon had his own island,” she said. “Such a shame what’s become of it. It even had a hot spring, right? Wish I could’ve taken a dip.”

“If we win this thing, I’ll be happy to set up a whole bunch of hot springs. So for now, help me by fixing up the Sacred Tree,” said Cleare.

“Sure thing.” Noelle folded her arms behind her head and shuffled toward the tree, which emitted faint light as she neared it.

“The Sacred Tree always amazes me,” Cleare gushed. “The way it absorbs demonic essence from the air and converts it into energy is mind-blowing. I don’t know who made it, but we ought to be grateful to them.”

Noelle tilted her head. “You mean the Sacred Tree didn’t develop naturally? Alzerians see it as a normal plant that adapted to protect the people.”

“Nah. It was cultivated and developed eons ago,” said Cleare. “We’ve got to thank Ideal too, although I know we ended up on opposite sides.”

Noelle’s face softened. “Ideal, huh? He saved me at the end there, didn’t he?”

“Yep,” answered Cleare. “You survived thanks to him, Nelly, and you’re the reason we can use this Sacred Tree. It’s too bad we couldn’t have teamed up, though. Who knows what would’ve happened if we’d combined forces?”

Ideal was an AI that had been implemented aboard a supply ship. He’d placed such intense importance on the Sacred Tree that it put him and Leon at odds. He’d ultimately lost to Leon and Luxion’s combined power and been destroyed in the process. His final act was to offer up the medically advanced capsule that ultimately saved Noelle’s life. 

On the other hand, Ideal’s rampage had led to immense casualties, which probably complicated whatever gratitude Noelle felt. Especially because her twin sister, Lelia, had lost two men she loved during the conflict.

Noelle pressed her right hand against the tree. “Being of some help to Leon is all that matters to me. We can tackle complex questions like the nature of the Sacred Tree once this is all over.”

Cleare’s lens bobbed. “Sounds great. We don’t have free time to waste thinking about other things right now. All that can wait until we’re done with this war.”

“Agreed. Until after we’ve won,” said Angie. She folded her arms across her waist, just beneath the swell of her breasts. “Anything that isn’t urgent can wait till we’ve survived this whole mess.”

Livia clasped her hands as if in prayer. “That’s right. Let’s survive this and come out victorious. However arrogant it is to hope we accomplish that, I’ll do everything in my power to make sure we do.”

With the odds stacked so high against them, it was optimistic and perhaps even selfish to assume they’d all survive this and claim victory. It would take a miracle—which was precisely what Livia desperately prayed for.

***

House Redgrave’s warship was occupied by both its duke, Vince, and his heir, Gilbert. Ordinarily the two would never share the same ship, for if they were shot down, it would deal an incredibly heavy blow to their family and its legacy. Gilbert was only dropping in for a brief moment before the battle began.

The two stood in front of a window, enjoying the impressive view before them—the array of ships, the islands, all of it.

“What a thrilling sight to behold,” said Gilbert. “Whether we win or lose this battle, Father, it will surely be written of in the history books.” Excitement leaked into his voice—excitement at participating in what would be a monumental turning point.

The crew and attendants on board whispered about how brave and dependable Gilbert was for showing no weakness, but Vince knew better. He’s bluffing.

A commander couldn’t show fear, or his anxiety might spread to those under his command. Gilbert had steeled himself, trying to appear as undaunted as he could.

Vince placed a gentle hand on his son’s shoulder. “I’m sorry, but I want you to fall to the rear line. My ship and crew will be the ones leading in front.”

“Father?!” Gilbert choked out in disbelief. “You can’t! You’re the head of our house. If something happened to you, then—”

“You greenhorns can watch the fight from the back and learn a thing or two from us veterans,” said Vince. “I’m trusting you to lead the rear line ships.”

Gilbert’s eyes widened, a strangled grunt slipping from his lips. There was a short pause, but he finally said, “Very well.”

Vince wanted his son at the rear to give him the best possible chance of survival. If we both fell to the back, it would damage the people’s faith in Angie. I must lead in front, even if the risk of death is impossibly high. But there’s no reason Gilbert must come with me.

They’d both joined the fight for Angie’s sake, of course, but if Vince fell in battle, that would be a devastating loss for House Redgrave. In any other situation, he’d have taken the rear to safeguard his own life; as a father, however, he couldn’t stomach letting his son remain on the front line while he watched from a safe distance.

“If anything happens to me,” said Vince, “it’ll be up to you to take care of our house. Angie has matured immensely, but it worries me that she’s still so shortsighted. You need to be at her side to support her.”

“Y-yes. I will be.” Gilbert must’ve sensed his father’s intentions, since he didn’t argue the point.

***

Holfort’s patrol ship sped as fast as it could toward an ally ship, accelerating to its very limit, but its captain and crew were most concerned about what lurked behind them.

Visibility outside was poor, thick clouds hanging in the skies and shrouding the enemy. Numerous drones, all in the form of legless Armors, surrounded the Holfortian ship to act as weapons safeguarding them. Despite the added protection the drones offered, the sheen of cold sweat covered the captain’s face.

“We can’t shake them off, huh?” His face contorting with panic, he barked orders into the speaking tube. “Deploy the Armors! Do whatever you must to ensure our allies get all the details we gleaned about the enemy!”

An unusual spherical metal ball carrying an AI inside it floated in the middle of the patrol ship bridge.

“We are experiencing heavy communication system interference due to the presence of demonic essence. Data transference is therefore impossible,” reported the AI. “The pilots must relay the report details directly.”

“That’s what I intend,” snapped the captain.

“It appears the enemy has caught up with us.”

No sooner had the AI delivered that devastating news than the drones around them began to explode. A black blur whizzed past the side of the ship.

“Shoot it down!” said the captain, passion turning his voice into an angry shout.

“That is futile,” said the AI.

What had been a black blur at first turned out to be a Demonic Suit. It swung around, approached the patrol ship bridge directly, and lifted one of its enormous curved swords. 

“I found you!” its pilot declared in a childlike voice. 

When the Demonic Suit swung its blade down, the resulting shock wave sliced the entire ship in half. 

“That’s all the kingdom’s military has to offer? What a disappointment.”

***

The kingdom had chosen to lead the enemy over the ocean to commence battle a safe distance from the continent. That would prevent their opponents from invading and causing casualties. They had towed multiple floating islands along to serve as facilities to repair and resupply ships, and final battle preparations had already started.

One of those islands—the one Leon had previously found and claimed for himself—had afterward come into the royal family’s possession, then been repurposed to serve in the battle with the empire. Dozens upon dozens of ships swarmed around it; among the enormous fleet was the Bartforts’ own battleship.

Balcus and Nicks peeked from a bridge window at the fleet. Since Leon was participating in the battle, they naturally were too.

Nicks shook his head in disbelief at the army’s sheer size. “Incredible,” he managed to blurt out in his awe. “So many battleships.”

They dotted the air above, below, and to both sides, seemingly blocking the sky. Nicks had been in a number of battles by this point, but it was his first time seeing so many allies join them. 

Balcus was similarly taken aback, drinking it all in with wide eyes. “I’ve never seen this before either.”

The crew around them were all sailors who’d long served the Bartforts, and they were no less astonished than their two leaders.

“Well, on top of that,” said the man serving as captain, “I never dreamed little Leon—er, sorry, His Grace—could lead this many battleships.”

Balcus raked a hand through his hair, unable to hide the bitter grimace on his face. “Given our lineage, I’ve got to assume he’s some kind of spontaneous mutation. I definitely never thought a child of mine could do all this.”

“Spontaneous mutation” was a cruel way to put it, but the whole crew understood where Balcus was coming from. Leon was the son of a rural baron, hardly the type one pictured leading a massive fleet against an empire. His accomplishments were impressive enough to end up as minstrels’ songs and legends that would be passed down through generations.

Nicks heaved a deep sigh, managing to fend off some of the nervousness creeping in. “With this many people on our side, I’m starting to think maybe we have a fighting chance.” He reached for the locket hanging from his neck, fingers circling tight around it. “And more are still pouring in.”

Battleships took off from Leon’s island one after another, their tune-ups having been completed. Luxion’s robots were undertaking all the work, fitting superior armor plating and brand-new cannons to each ship. Thus, their task comprised more than just repairs—they were adding improvements and extra supplies, all free of charge, in the final hours before the battle.

From beneath the island, old humanity’s weapons made their appearance as well. One warship was so enormous it caught the attention of their allies, who chattered anxiously through their transmitters.

“I heard rumors about that ship! The Partner, right?”

“Nah, that looks bigger than what the rumors said about the Partner.”

“Yeah. The Partner was already deployed.”

Nicks’s smile became strained at their gossip. The ship in question didn’t look like the Partner in the least. Its metal exterior had noticeable rust patches, and its enormous size dwarfed the other ships. This was the aircraft carrier Fact. After he joined them, dozens of similar ships spilled from the island as well.

Balcus pressed his fingers to his forehead, trying to wipe away the sweat that beaded there. “These are all ancient weapons, huh? Our ancestors were something else, creating unmanned machines like those.”

“Ancestors, huh?” Nicks suddenly recalled something. “Dad, when I was young, didn’t you tell me I wouldn’t want to hear about our ancestors, because it’d just make me feel miserable?” Despite his father’s warnings, he hadn’t given up on hearing the story; he was too curious to know the reason for such a warning. The last thing he wanted was to go into a battle to the death puzzling over it. “Things could start looking grim out there, so tell me the story. I won’t be able to focus if I’m still wondering about it when the fighting starts.”

Balcus sighed at him, his upper lip curling in a show of reluctance. “Just when I was thinking you’d finally matured into a proper adult, here you are acting immature.”

“Come on. Better for us both if we have no regrets, right? We’ve both been deployed to the front lines,” Nicks reminded him. 

“You know we have to lead the charge. It’d hurt morale if we didn’t.”

At Balcus’s insistence, the Bartforts’ battleship had been placed toward the front of their formation. “We’re Leon’s family,” he’d explained. “It’d reflect poorly on him if we weren’t the first ones out there.” But their positioning also meant their odds of dying were much higher than those of the people bringing up the rear. That helped explain why Nicks was so insistent on hearing about his ancestors now.

“If I survive, I can pass the story on to my kids when they get older,” he reasoned. “Tell them how incredible our ancestors were.”

Balcus’s eyes briefly squeezed shut in a show of acquiescence. “Truth be told, our ancestors weren’t the sort who found success as adventurers. You know that much already, don’t you?”

“They climbed to their position in battle, right?” said Nicks.

“No. I’m talking about the founder of the Bartforts. He was actually an adventurer who stumbled into the kingdom as an outsider.”

“I’ve never heard that before.”

Adventurers were prized and highly respected in Holfort. Aristocrats normally took pride in their heritage if their ancestors had been adventurers, but there was a good reason Balcus wasn’t so proud.

“At the end of a grand adventure, he was betrayed by his companions. That was why he found his way to the land we now occupy. He said he was sick of adventuring and quit, dedicating himself to farming and living his life quietly and comfortably in the countryside.”

The first thing that popped into Nicks’s mind was how familiar that sounded. “Reminds me of Leon.”

“Yep. That’s why I wonder if his ‘spontaneous mutation’ comes from our founder,” said Balcus.

“Next to the enormous fleet we can see out there right now, I guess that story seems pretty underwhelming. Sure, our founder was an adventurer. But if he quit in disgrace after being betrayed by his companions, it’s kind of…” Nicks trailed off and pulled a face.

Betrayal by one’s companions was a mark of shame for adventurers in Holfort. The ones doing the betraying were the worst of all, of course, but their victims were assumed to be partly responsible for whatever mutiny occurred against them.

It was believed that a proper adventurer should be wise enough not to team up with people who might later turn on them. One put one’s life on the line when adventuring, and someone too green to find proper companions or command their loyalty wasn’t mature enough for the profession at all.

Balcus understood that reasoning, and the stigma that came with it, which was why he’d avoided telling his children much about their family’s founder. Despite the shame of the tale, it was still a valuable lesson, so it had been passed on through the generations of the Bartforts.

“That was why I didn’t want to tell you out here just before the battle,” Balcus grumbled. “At any rate, I doubt he was much of an adventurer, considering that none of his descendants have been adventurers either.”

“True,” said Nicks. “The only Bartfort adventurer who’s ever distinguished himself is Leon.”

Balcus crossed his arms and chuckled. “Yeah. Who’d have thought he’d be the most accomplished of our family? He might be like our founder, but I still think he’s a mutant.”

“Got to agree with that.”

While the two were busy chatting, a wailing siren erupted from the intercom loudly enough to make their ears ring. A panicked voice followed shortly. “We’ve received a report from our patrol unit! The empire’s fleet has been spotted! They have over three thousand ships!”

Murmurs broke out on the bridge. The crew’s eyes opened wide, sweat trickling down their faces. It was little wonder they were all so taken aback; the empire’s military was said to outnumber them twice over, and that wasn’t even an exact number. The report had been a vague estimate. In the worst-case scenario, it was perfectly possible that Vordenoit outnumbered them three to one.

“Don’t let it faze you!” Balcus’s gruff voice pierced the air. “As long as we follow the plan, we’ll be the victors!”

Nicks brushed a trembling hand over his forehead, wiping away the perspiration that had formed. “Guess it’s almost time, then.” He again reached for the locket at his neck, which held a picture of Dorothea.

***

Back on the Licorne, Noelle had finished prepping the Sacred Tree to absorb the demonic essence in the surrounding air and funnel the converted energy into the ship. The sapling emanated faint light in the process. As Noelle handled the sapling, Cleare took charge of controlling the Licorne.

Angie’s brow wrinkled when a report came through that their patrol ship had been shot down. “They say that the empire is heading to war with us, but are we certain they’ll come straight for us and attack?”

“According to my predictions, odds of that are high,” Cleare assured her.

“And we’re sure they won’t divert their advance to go around us?”

Angie was worried that they might continue past the kingdom’s forces and make for the continent those forces shielded behind them. 

Cleare, on the other hand, doubted they’d take that route. “Yep, I’m sure,” she said. “I mean, I have to say, this is the perfect chance for them to wipe out all our military assets in one go. From Arcadia’s point of view, us gathering in one place makes things much easier. If they can wipe us out, nothing and no one will be left to stand against them.”

All the AIs were taking part in this battle. Once the empire destroyed those, along with the ships of the kingdom and its allies, it would be easy pickings.

Frustrated, Angie flexed her fingers but said nothing else.

“And we’re sure Arcadia’s coming with the empire’s forces, right?” Noelle asked.

“No doubt about that,” Cleare answered. “The increased levels of airborne demonic essence signal his approach. The information our allies gathered also indicated that he was spotted with them.”

The Licorne was storing the energy all that demonic essence provided. Yumeria was also aboard the ship to help control the Sacred Tree alongside Noelle.

“What are you planning to do with all the energy you’re storing?” Yumeria asked nervously.

“We could use it for any number of things,” said Cleare. “That’s why we brought Liv and Nelly here to the battlefield.” Her gaze turned to Livia.

Up until that point, Livia had been staring out the window. Only when she felt Cleare’s attention turn to her did she spin around. “We’ll use it to power that device that was aboard the royal family’s ship, won’t we?”

They’d used that ship during the war with the Fanoss, but no one had seen the vessel itself as a threat, so much as the device implemented aboard it. Combined with Livia’s unique powers, it made for a deadly weapon, which was why it had been kept under lock and key until now. In use, it could potentially put people—allies or enemies—under Livia’s control. Depending what they decided to do with it, they could conceivably conquer the entire world.

Alas, that wouldn’t benefit them this time around. They couldn’t hope to win by using it the same way they had during the previous war.

“It does have deadly power, but it won’t work against Arcadia,” Cleare stated with certainty. “So we won’t use it against the enemy; we’ll use it on our allies.” Her blue lens gleamed, projecting a 3D map centered on the Licorne that illustrated the device’s range. “The most convenient thing about it is that it isn’t hampered by the concentration of demonic essence in the air.”

Yumeria blinked and cocked her head, not understanding that explanation. “Um, can I have that in layman’s terms?”

“Cleare is saying that we can use the device to create mental connections and communicate despite the interference,” Kyle said, trying to summarize for his mother.

“M-mental connections?” she stammered back, still visibly confused.

“It means we’ll hear each other’s thoughts, basically.”

Realization dawned on her face then, and she quickly nodded. “Oh, I get it now. That’s amazing!” Her joy quickly fell away, however. “W-wait! That means we’ll even hear each other’s most embarrassing thoughts, right?! Oh, goodness, this is troubling. I’m always thinking about how much I love my darling Kyle, and now everyone’s going to hear about it!” Blood rushed to her cheeks.

Kyle was similarly embarrassed by the revelation, his face going pink all the way to his ears. “M-Mom?! Stop blurting out weird stuff like that—we’re on the cusp of battle!”

Their adorable interaction sapped some tension from the air.

“Actually, it’s not your thoughts that will reach people, just the words you want to communicate,” explained Cleare. “We’ll serve as a conduit, gathering and forwarding transmissions from other ships. I’ll help sort through incoming information, but the biggest burden will be on Liv’s shoulders.”

The interference in their communications system was a huge disadvantage, but fortunately, they could circumvent it as long as Livia was there. Accurate, speedy communication was a powerful weapon on the field. Unfortunately, providing it would drain a lot from Livia.

“I’ll be fine,” she insisted, simply pleased to be such a vital part of the fight. She smiled.

Angie reached over and squeezed her hand. “Are you sure about this?”

Livia squeezed back. “I’m just happy I can help. I’m glad of the burden.” Her words were spoken out of deep-seated guilt toward all the people who would be at the front, fighting with their lives on the line.

Angie grabbed both of Livia’s hands in hers. Clasping them tightly, she lowered her gaze, silently lamenting the fact that she couldn’t be any help out here. “I’m sorry,” she said. “All I can do is be here with you and watch. I’m useless on the battlefield.”

“No.” Livia shook her head. “You did all the hard fighting before we got this far. It’s our turn to help now. At long last, I can actually contribute.”

Angie’s eyes glistened with tears, which she quickly brushed away. “All I did was assist with the preparations. I can’t help Leon directly, like you can.”

“That’s the thing—I couldn’t have helped at all with those preparations. We only have so many forces out there because you stepped up, Angie.”

Watching the two from a few feet away, Noelle sighed. “I love how they’ve forgotten I’ll be helping out too. Not that I want to butt into their conversation. I know that’d be insensitive.”

“Well, for what it’s worth, I’m expecting a lot of you, Nelly,” Cleare cooed at her.

“Yeah, yeah,” Noelle shot back, unimpressed.

Cleare turned her attention to the one person wearing a dark, haunted expression—Marie.

“What’s the matter, Rie? Does your tummy hurt? That’s why I warned you not to eat too much,” said Cleare.

Marie scowled at her. “Is that what you think of me? That I’m just an uncontrollable glutton?”

“What? Was I wrong? I made you those rice balls, and you ate ten—”

“Nine!” snapped Marie. “I didn’t eat that many! I-I was just feeling a little nostalgic and stuffed my face more than usual, that’s all.”

Cleare moved her lens back and forth. “No, you ate ten. I’m sure, because I counted each one. Anyway, there’s not much difference between nine and ten.”

“There is when you’re a woman!”

Thanks to Cleare’s timely intervention, Marie was finally back to her feisty self. Carla and Kyle’s faces were awash with relief at the sight.

“I’m glad to see Lady Marie acting like herself again,” said Carla.

Kyle nodded but then said, “Anyway, those—what were they called, rice balls?—were awfully strange. Mistress eagerly wolfed them down, though. Will her stomach be all right?” He assumed that she wasn’t accustomed to such exotic cuisine and that it might in turn upset her system.

Marie flushed and mumbled, “I’ll be just fine. I’m feeling even better than usual right now.”

“That’s good to hear.” Kyle smiled at her. “But if it does happen to upset your stomach, please let me know. I brought medicine along.”

“Lady Marie, why don’t we visit the bathroom before the fighting begins?” Carla offered worriedly.

“Oh, enough, you two!” Marie snapped at them, embarrassed by all their fussing even as she felt equally grateful for their concern.

Sensing that the three had finished speaking, Cleare said, “Rie, I’ll redirect some extra energy to you. Use your Saint powers to build us a barrier, okay?”

Cheeks still red, Marie proudly puffed out her chest. “Gladly. I’m perfectly capable of rising to the challenge when I need to.”

“I wish you’d take that attitude even when it’s not absolutely urgent,” Cleare said with some exasperation, “but I guess I shouldn’t be surprised you’d say that.”

Marie frowned. “You AIs sure like to make snarky comments, don’t you? Why can’t you just pay me a normal compliment?”

Before Cleare could answer, an urgent transmission came through from Fact.

“A heat signature has appeared on radar,” he said.

“They’re here,” said Cleare. “Deploy shield at full strength.”

Several layers of faintly glowing light formed a flat force field, almost like a transparent curtain, directly in front of the Licorne.

Angie’s eyes widened as she peered at the horizon. “There they are.” Something glimmered in the distance, and in the next instant, blinding light flashed through the windows. Violent turbulence rocked the entire ship.

***

Fact had sensed the enemy before the humans could spot it with their naked eyes.

“So, they can aim their weapons accurately at us even from this distance,” he said to himself. “I shall positively adjust my evaluation of Arcadia’s capabilities.”

Several AIs were accompanying Fact in a support capacity. They quickly reported the damage.

“Shield Ship One is down.”

“The kingdom fleet has sustained no casualties.”

“Deploying next shield ship to the front.”

A large spaceship moved to the vanguard of the fleet formation. Ships had been prepared beforehand to act as barriers; they could use their own onboard force fields to deflect Arcadia’s main cannon, protecting allies from the impact. Withstanding even one blast, however, would exhaust the ship’s full capacity. At that point, its system would overload, fires would break out across the ship, and it would sink in the sea below.

“Estimated time until the enemy’s next attack is eighteen hundred seconds.”

“The empire’s fleet is leading the charge ahead of Arcadia.”

“Monsters under enemy control are approaching at high speed.”

Scrutinizing all the incoming information, Fact issued his orders. “Return fire,” he said. “Deploy the mobile weapon squadron.” 

At his command, the aircraft carrier released dozens of drones, and all the ships with AI onboard assembled in formation to aim at the beasts.

“Fire,” said Fact.

Lasers and rockets shot forth, followed by a missile barrage. The few shots that pierced past the monsters, however, were blocked by magical force fields protecting the enemy ships charging ahead of Arcadia.

“Enemy shields detected.”

“Presence of Arcadia’s magical barrier confirmed.”

“Our ballistics and lasers are completely ineffective.”

Fact collected all the data they provided and proceeded to analyze it. More monsters were manifesting in the air around Arcadia, who could manipulate the concentrated demonic essence in his surroundings to conjure and control them.

“So Arcadia managed to incorporate monsters into his arsenal,” Fact observed grimly. “I shall positively adjust my evaluation of his threat level.”

The data suggested that Arcadia could produce a nearly inexhaustible quantity of monsters to employ as weapons. As much as Fact and his allies had prepared for this battle, and for Arcadia himself, Arcadia had also endeavored to find as many modern military assets as possible to incorporate into their forces.

Fact and his fellow AIs had themselves undergone emergency repairs in advance of the battle, but given their short window of time, they weren’t at full operating capacity.

“We are proving less capable than originally forecasted,” Fact realized. Then he promptly ordered, “Charge Arcadia head-on. Have the whole fleet speed forward.”

His message went straight to the Licorne, which was acting as a conduit, before being relayed to the other ships in the fleet. Unfortunately, since most of their forces were manned by humans rather than AIs, their scattershot timing disrupted their formation. They were less synchronized than Fact would’ve liked. On top of that, it was evident that none were accustomed to moving within a fleet of this scale.

“I shall negatively adjust my evaluation of the Holfortian army,” Fact concluded. “Have two AI-manned ships take to the rear and assist in overseeing command.”

The ships’ inability to move in the way Fact had envisioned would disadvantage them against Arcadia—especially since the empire, as the conflict’s instigators, had a much more robust fleet far outnumbering theirs. Fact had assumed that would mean the empire would practice synchronization before launching their assault, providing them an advantage.

But no.

“I shall negatively adjust my evaluation of the imperial army.”

The enemy was proving less coordinated than expected. They’d had considerable time to prepare for this battle, but they were arguably on the same level as the Holfortian army.

Nearby support AIs erupted with reports.

“The wave of monsters has broken through our allies’ fire.”

“The Holfortian army is decelerating substantially.”

“Our fleet has deployed mobile suits against orders, further decreasing our speed.”

By “mobile suits,” the AI referred to Armors, which were being sent to deal with the monsters. Fact’s lens gleamed bright, anger infusing his robotic voice. “Command all ships to prioritize acceleration,” he ordered. “Inform them that, if we cannot close the distance between ourselves and Arcadia quickly, he will blast us all from the sky.”

The Holfortian army had no choice but to charge through the waves of monsters and accompanying shots from Arcadia’s main cannon. If they hesitated, they’d make targets of themselves.

***

Inside the command room set up within Arcadia, Moritz grimaced. “This is it?” he said, disappointed to find that Arcadia’s main cannon was far weaker than he’d expected.

Moritz had thought they’d sink a significant section of the enemy fleet before direct contact, but Arcadia had only downed a single ship. The cannon itself was sufficient to eliminate at least a hundred ships at once, but its results were less impressive than the optics suggested.

“Those junk machines with their oil stench are sacrificing spaceships to protect the rest of their fleet,” Arcadia spat venomously. “Well, they may have blocked my initial shot, but if we continue blasting them, we will win eventually. They only have so many spaceships, after all.”

“The problem is, if they make contact, your main cannon will be useless.”

“Fair point,” Arcadia conceded.

Moritz deemed it too dangerous to use Arcadia’s cannon if the imperial and royal armies broke into an all-out close-range melee, given the risk of catching allies in the blast. If they couldn’t destroy—or at least substantially hamstring—the enemy forces prior to direct contact, they would suffer considerable losses.

Arcadia didn’t seem the least bit panicked about the situation, though. The foe’s AIs in particular didn’t daunt him, since they weren’t in optimal condition. “Their AIs only recently awoke,” he said, “and don’t seem to have undergone full repairs. That’s why their only strategy for handling my cannon is to sacrifice themselves.” 

Moritz crossed his arms. “How long until you can fire the cannon again?”

“Fifteen more minutes.”

“That’s too slow! You should be able to fire sooner than that. Our original calculation was every ten minutes.”

“It requires additional energy to produce monsters and maintain shields to block their lasers,” Arcadia explained, “which reduces the amount channeled into powering the main cannon.”

“The royal army is advancing,” Moritz reminded him through gritted teeth.

“I’ll reduce their numbers before they make direct contact,” Arcadia replied, sounding mildly annoyed at Moritz’s attempts to pressure him. “Or do you actually think that our superior numbers will lose to the enemy? We’ll do this exactly as we discussed. There’s no need for concern.”

Even if Arcadia couldn’t fire his main cannon, they’d have the advantage of numbers. That wasn’t enough for Moritz, however. He couldn’t shake the anxious gnawing in his gut, although he was careful not to show that in his expression, of course. The Demonic Creatures on their side hadn’t yet reported Leon’s—or Luxion’s—locations on the field, and those two were the royal army’s trump card. Not knowing their whereabouts unsettled Moritz.

Unable to withhold his curiosity, he asked, “What about the enemy’s main force? Where is he?” 

Moritz didn’t speak a name, but Arcadia surmised easily enough whom he was referring to. “Luxion still hasn’t been spotted,” he said. “He’s probably hiding somewhere, watching us.”

“Find him, now!” Moritz snapped. “If what you and your fellows were saying is true, a single shot from his main cannon could substantially damage our fleet!” Despite his earlier attempts, he wasn’t managing to hide his wariness of Leon.

“Luxion is indeed a threat,” Arcadia said placatingly. “But as long as I can block such an attack, there won’t be an issue. Besides, even without my main cannon to fell enemies, we can wear them down until they are fatigued enough for our forces to wipe out.” The edges of his mouth stretched into a twisted grin. “No matter what happens, we will be the victors.”

Moritz leaned his head back and stared at the ceiling. “I hope you’re right.” His thoughts wandered elsewhere. Based on what Finn told me, this Leon fellow doesn’t seem the type to let this battle play out conventionally. He’ll have some sort of trick up his sleeve to use on us.

“Luxion was originally intended as a migratory ship,” Arcadia pointed out. “Perhaps some of their people defected and boarded him to leave for the safety of outer space.”

Moritz lowered his head and averted his gaze from Arcadia. If so, that would make everything much easier for me to stomach. These beasts surely wouldn’t chase them all the way to the stars, at least. He didn’t actually want to annihilate all Holfort’s citizens, but his position wouldn’t let him show mercy. As emperor, he was determined to choose the path that best guaranteed his people’s survival.

Moritz’s face was hollow and sunken from stress, his voice lacking the same strength it had previously possessed. Nonetheless, he tried his best to sound composed and dignified as he ordered, “Commence a full retreat. Don’t allow the royal army to make contact.” He planned to maintain the distance between the two armies by falling back.