1

Leon, you ready?

Ah, no problem here. Just step out ahead of me—I’ll follow your lead.

"Alright. First Guard Armunale Division, Eld—moving out."

I hop down from the hanger after making sure everyone’s notice me moving.

"Third Armunale unit, Leon—deploying."

I followed, and Leon’s machine descended from the hangar, rolling out into the storage bay.

The sky was thick with clouds, hanging low like it might rain any second. Might’ve been snow up in the mountains, but down here in Jakarta, the temperature was still too high for anything but rain.

"Could be raining, I reckon."

"Supposed to pour down hard from afternoon on, according to the weather witch."

"Troublesome, huh."

Weather forecasts around here still ain’t worth much. Not like we’ve found radio waves or got some weather-monitoring system to speak of.

Forecasters just read the sky—color, how the clouds crawl, how the air feels on your skin. But don’t let that fool you. They’re surprisingly accurate. Maybe seventy percent of the time, give or take. No fancy percentages like “seventy-five percent chance of rain,” but knowing whether it’ll fall or not? That changes everything when you’re marching.

“Better push forward before it starts.”

“Yeah.”

I nod, already heading for the base’s exit. The whole squad’s already gathered, gear ready, just waiting.

“First Armunale Division, moving out. Leon’s unit’s tagging along—keep that in mind.”

“Leave it to me. I’ll have every machine polished and humming.”

“Say something if the physical calculator—senseboard—feels off. I’ll handle it, promise.”

Carine leaned out the window of the magitek carriage and waved at Leon’s machine.

“Please take care of everything.”

“Then, Bnois and Catrea, you go ahead. Keep to the planned route. But there’s a chance of rain, so we’ll speed up a bit.”

“Got it. Let’s go, Catrea.”

“Yes.”

Bnois led Catrea out of the base a step ahead. Watching them go, I called out to the rest of the team.

“Alright, we’re moving out too—just like I said, we’ll go a bit faster. I’ll lead the way, so Leon, keep an eye on the rear. The magitek carriage will follow between us.”

“Got it!”

“Copy that.”

I started forward, and behind me, Pamila’s magitek carriage rolled in step.

Then, as we neared the gate, I noticed a crowd of soldiers gathered around it.

They all waved at us at once, big sweeping gestures. Looks like they’re seeing us off.

I lifted the machine’s right hand in reply, just a little. The cheers went up sharp and loud—already switching to “Eld! Leon!” Honestly, a bit embarrassing. But saying so now would ruin the moment.

“Eld! Leon!”

A little flustered in the cockpit, I heard our names called from above the gate.

I turned the camera that way—there was Batis. Leaning out as far as he could, shouting straight at us.

“Get on with it and kick those Imperial bastards out! If you’re too slow, I’ll go myself!”

“Don’t worry. It’ll be all done before winter sets in.”

“No need to feed Batis. I’ll take care of everything. Just stay back and keep watch.”

At the exact moment we passed under the gate, Batis thrust his fist forward.

I thrust my fist forward from the cockpit—Batis can’t see it, but that’s the point, really.

The moment we cleared the gate, I slammed down the pedal and shoved the machine into motion.

Target: Gamma Block’s First Defense Line. The base stolen from Kailen.

Just as Eld’s team launched, a magical vehicle rolled up behind Jakarta’s Second Defense Line.

Out stepped a rugged man wrapped in a lavish cloak.

Colonel Karanikov, commander of the infantry forces.

Every soldier at the base snapped to attention, frozen in salute. Because if the Armunale unit’s overall commander is General Maurice Luvoff, then the infantry and cavalry are under him.

Ines watched from the window, and let out a quiet sigh.

"Trouble’s arrived, huh. Time to call it a day, don’t you think?"

"Then—"

"Yes. I think we’re heading back to the capital. He’s Father’s puppet, after all. He’ll want to see me. Better get ready."

"Understood."

Ines gave orders to the maids and began her own preparations. Though really, that just meant settling in on the sofa with a cat draped over her like a blanket.

After a while, as expected, a soldier guarding the door relayed a request for an audience from Kalanikov. She granted permission and had the maids prepare tea.

Kalanikov stepped inside, catching the scent of the tea brewing—just slightly, but enough to make his face twitch. Ines hid a smirk behind her hand.

She knew full well he was mad for tea. That’s why she’d gone to the trouble of using only the finest leaves, and made sure he watched her pour it himself.

Khalanikoff knelt before Ines, his eyes never leaving the tea.

"Thank you for answering my sudden request."

"You're the right hand of the King himself. Of course I'd make time. Now, please—this way. I was just pouring the tea."

"Forgive the intrusion."

The moment Khalanikoff sat, a maid set a cup before him.

He lifted it at once, inhaled the steam slow and deep, then took a single sip.

A flicker of a smile touched his lips—gone in a heartbeat, replaced by that same stern face. Ines bit back a sigh inside.

She’d hoped to ease the tension, steer the talk her way. But then again, they do call him the King’s puppet for a reason.

"So," she said, voice light, "what brings you here today? I’d think you’d have more pressing matters right now."

“Let me cut straight to it,” she said, voice light. “Lady Ines, return to the capital.”

Ines sipped her tea, already knowing what was coming. She’d been thinking ahead, already mapping out the next few lines of this conversation.

“You’ve said no to that before. Not now, with my knight at the front lines. I’m not returning to the capital.”

“That’s precisely the issue,” Leon said. “The Guard are your absolute shield. To pull them from your side and send them to the front—what in the name of the stars are you thinking?”

“There are people suffering,” she said. “And I had the sword to end it. So I swung. That’s all.”

While Karanikov had called the Guard a shield, Ines countered—deliberately—by calling them her own blade.

“Then sheathe your sword,” Leon said. “Jakarta’s defenses are already in place.”

Karanikov knew Jakarta had already cleared out the enemy, and that the existing Armunales were all readied and running smooth, back in fighting shape.

That’s why he’d already declared them unnecessary.

“Yes, so I’ve already sent my sword where it’s needed.”

“Impossible!”

“The goal is reclaiming the Kailen base. We’ll hear the news any moment now.”

“Insane! The Kailen base has been turned into an enemy stronghold! To think you’d try to retake it with just one Armunale—!”

The Kailen base, the first line of defense in the Gamma Block, had been confirmed by reconnaissance to have been converted into an enemy stronghold.

There, just like in Jakarta, were concentrated magical liquid—Hyimagia Liquid—and storage tanks. That was exactly what she planned to use.

We held on as long as we could during the retreat—but the enemy advanced too fast. Before we could ditch everything, the base was taken.

Losing that base was like dropping Jakarta with a single strike. Under normal circumstances, that conclusion would’ve been obvious.

But Ines kept smiling as she answered.

“That’s why you’re my knight, after all.”

Ines believed the main reason to bring her back to the capital was to pull Eld and the others away from the front lines.

Her father had a habit of pulling exceptional fighters back from the front. Most of the current guard had been tethered to the capital for the same reason.

Which is exactly why she’d acted first.

Understood. Then let’s gather forces at the second defensive line and prepare for the advance. But if that’s the case, we must ask Her Highness to return to the capital all the more urgently.

“Yes. It might be time to speak with Father face to face. Understood. I’ll return to the capital.”

“Thank you.”

“Please tell my knight to return to the capital after securing Kailen.”

“Understood.”

After settling on departure plans, Kalanikov left Ines’s chamber.

Ines drained the now-cold tea in one gulp and let out a long sigh.

“Honestly. Does Father really think things will still go his way, even now?”

Her voice, murmured as she looked up at the overcast sky beyond the window, faded away without reaching anyone.

“It’s started to rain.”

Watching the raindrops leap on the monitor, Eld eased off the pedal, slowing the pace.

We’d made good time so far—but now we’d have to ease up.

“Captain Eld, how far you planning to go today?”

Orell leaned out from the magi-vehicle, asking.

“On schedule. We’ll keep going to the next village, as planned. If it’s not taken over, we’ll talk them into stopping. If it is taken, we’ll take it back.”

“Got it!”

As we pushed on, the rain grew heavier, bit by bit.

Every step Armunale took sent up a splash, and the ground felt like it was squelching underfoot.

The magi-vehicle slid diagonally behind me. Otherwise, the tires would’ve caught in the mud Armunale had just stepped on.

“Captain! This is getting rough!”

Almost the second Pamila shouted from the driver’s seat, Bouvier and the others came back from ahead.

“Found a village up ahead—only, it’s under Abnomyle control.”

“Don’t know how many units, but there’s more than one.”

“So that’s the situation. Pamila, hold on a little longer. We’re going in slow from here.”

“Can’t help it, can I?”

After hearing both reports, we slowed even more, crouched low, and kept moving.

Rain hammered down—visibility was terrible—but just barely, we made out the village’s shadow, and there, a silhouette that looked like Abnomyle.

Only one we could see for sure—but just like Catrea said, better to assume there are more...

“Right. Take it easy. I’ll go first—Leon, cover the magi-vehicle.”

“No, let me go instead.”

“Me? You’re serious?”

“Want to get my senses back before a big fight.”

Right—since graduation, I haven’t been in a real battle with Armunale… not once.

Yeah, maybe it’s better to ease into it here than to just throw me straight into the thick of it… wait—did I really just throw Batis into a full-scale fight like that? Gotta apologize when we get back.

“Got it. Then I’ll leave it to Leon. I can see one unit, but there could be more—stay sharp.”

“Understood.”

Leon’s machine kicks off the ground, accelerating. Mud flies up, splattering all over the feet, but the way it cuts through the rain—smooth, seamless—doesn’t even feel like it’s been off the field for half a year.

I crank up the camera zoom, tracking Leon’s movements.

Leon’s machine neared the village—just as the enemy spotted us and went on the defensive. Too late.

The magic was already in motion. Clayrancé was driven straight through the cockpit of the machine that had turned to face us.

Then two Abnomüle appeared from behind.

One shell was on a direct hit course, but Leon shifted his machine aside, dodged the line of fire, and closed in with a snap—ramming his sword into one of the Abnomüle.

The other swung down with its blade. Leon blocked it, using the wrecked machine as a shield, then hurled it straight at the second one—knocking both off balance.

And then, clean as a whistle, he finished them both with Clayrancé.

No wasted motion. Just smooth, sharp. Even with a few gaps in the rhythm, Leon’s skill doesn’t rust.

Leon checked the area around the village first, then signaled us to come in.

We approached, and there it was—a ruined village.

“Damn.”

“Fought back, I’d say. Bodies piled up in one corner, left to rot.”

“No survivors to check for?”

“Leave that to us.”

“Please.”

The rest of the team split up, searching the intact houses. Meanwhile, I headed toward the spot Leon had reported—where the bodies were dumped.

It was in a corner of the village, right in the middle of a manure pit.

Same as our own village, it seemed—no real progress in technology, not a bit.

Still, the gap between the capital and the frontier feels too wide. Too sharp.

Like they’re deliberately avoiding tech, just so they can rebuild fast after an attack. There’s something… off about that.

"Better burn 'em later, or sickness might spread."

Can't do it now with the rain, but we’ll have to set fire to 'em after—no choice if we don’t want the plague spreading.

If any survivors are left, they’ll have to endure it. Tough, but we can’t help it.

Staring at the bodies, something clicks.

"Only men?"

Most of the corpses dumped here are men. A few women, but mostly old folks and children.

There’s only one reason for that.

"Feels wrong."

Orell shows up then.

"Found survivors—women, all of 'em."

"Women only. That’s what you’re saying."

"Aye. Looks like they were used as toys by those bastards."

"Then they might be scared of men, huh. For now, Ange, Catreia, Pamila—take care of the women. We’ll handle the cooking."

"Can’t help it, can we."

Watching Orell head off to give orders to the others, I folded my hands toward the wretched, abandoned corpses.