1

Sorry I’m late

In a corner of the capital, inside a storage shed—guarded so tightly that only those involved could enter—there were a few figures standing in the dim light.

"Is this actually gonna fly?"

Laira tilts her head up, eyeing the machine tethered to the hanger.

A few Avila Bombs sprouted from around the waist, thick as a massive rocket.

The one who answered Layla’s question was the white-clad man in front of her.

Fly? No, more like *blow* apart—now that’s the right word! According to my calculations, combining seven Avila Bombs should be enough to launch the Armunale! Even the Saphira Generator I designed can manage that kind of thrust, you know!

The edict from the Emperor. To carry out that order, the Armunale of the Elshard Mercenary Company was undergoing modifications here.

"Only calculations and 'should be possible'—that's all we've got, really. No test firings or anything?"

"Hahahaha! If we did that, what'd be the point of a surprise attack? That's exactly why we're taking out the fools who think they're safe!"

"Maybe you're right..."

Folzé chuckled at the skeptical look on Layra's face, standing beside her.

"Something'll work out. It's me and Layra going in, so if things go sideways, we'll figure it out on the spot. That's more fun, don't you think?"

"Finding joy in risking your life? You're still as crazy as ever."

"One life. If you can't enjoy living and dying, what's the point?"

"Can't go that far. Besides, I've got something I have to do."

"Will it push forward all at once if this plan works out?"

"Guess so."

This operation. Layla figured that if the assault succeeded, the war between the kingdom and the empire would suddenly erupt into full-scale battle.

That was why she’d agreed to the reckless plan of launching the Armunale—and volunteered to pilot it herself.

The members of the Elshard mercenary company had left the imperial capital weeks ago, headed for mission prep. They were probably already inside the kingdom by now.

"Final checks incoming! This is the important, important mission the king himself entrusted us with! No sloppy maintenance—got it, you lot!"

"Yes!"

The white-clad man called out to the mechanics, and with a crisp reply, the final inspection of the airship began.

Thrust calculations, launch angles, air resistance, fin operation, damage checks, fuel purity—every angle scrutinized, and the results came back clean.

"Princess Sefira, airship inspection complete. All systems nominal."

"Fufufu, hahaha! Then let’s go, shall we? I’m counting on you lot to shine!"

"Leave it to us. We’ll carve a path through plenty of them."

"We’ll stir up a proper mess."

"Pilot’s aboard! Officers, clear the craft!"

With that, the mechanics peeled themselves off the hull in unison. Forzé moved to the Armunale’s cockpit, and Layra slid into the newly installed pilot seat at her waist—Avila Bomb ready to fire.

“Layra-kun! The Avila Bomb controls are the same as before, but since we’re linked up, the balance control’s gonna be a real mess, so watch it, okay!”

“I know, I know.”

She gave Sefira’s warning a light shrug, checking the joystick and pedals in the pilot seat. Years of academy training had turned this into muscle memory.

“Link to each Avila Bomb’s operational—good. Fins working fine. Fuel check green. Ejection pod lock secure. All good, right? Forzé, how about you?”

“All green here. Weapons loaded, handkerchief too. Oh, should I bring flowers for the ceremony or something?”

“Fireworks’ll be going off, trust me.”

“Yeah, fair point.”

“Ready on your end?”

“Yep, all set.”

“Same here.”

This is your biggest chance to wipe the slate clean after the failed invasion! Go on, really mess things up—kill hard, cause chaos, and make a break for it. You’ll be heroes! Well, if you’re gonna croak, at least kick up a fuss and take out one or two important folks, yeah? Alright, I’m counting—start the clock! Open the storage hatch, and begin at sixty!

One-way ticket to the kingdom. Eld had thought it impossible—Armunale’s solo raid. The final, desperate strike ordered by His Majesty himself, meant to erase the shame of the failed invasion.

But Rayla and the others? They took the order straight, yet didn’t plan on dying.

Rayla’s plan was simple: make noise, kill, steal, and run back. That’s where it all begins.

The hangar’s upper hatch swung open in time with Sefira’s voice, and sunlight poured in, sharp and clean. No wind—nothing to rattle the craft.

“Avilabomb ignition.”

At ten, Rayla lit the bomb. Smoke burst out in an instant, swallowing the hangar whole, then clawed its way skyward in a thick white plume.

The thrust built slowly, lifting the craft just a little—still tethered, still grounded.

Five seconds left.

Rayla noticed the sweat beading on her forehead.

A small, dry laugh—nervous, she thought—then she wiped it away with her arm.

“Three, two, one—lock release!”

The countdown matched the hangar’s release. The pent-up force exploded free. The machine tore itself into the sky.

The G-force slammed her into the pilot’s seat, eyes straining to stay open, fixed on the horizon.

She fumbled with the controls, adjusting the craft’s direction.

“Hahaha! Amazing! We’re actually flying!”

Folz’s laughter crackled through the mic, but Rayla wasn’t in the mood.

She wrestled the unstable craft back into alignment, forcing it onto the planned trajectory.

One slip, one wrong move—off it’d go, spinning into some entirely different sky. She kept her focus sharp, coaxing the fins with delicate lever taps, inching the machine back into its path. Success.

Rayla exhaled, shoulders dropping.

“Five hours of sky ahead.”

“Yeah… can’t wait. Wish we had one arm to spare.”

“Who knows? Might be there. After all, we’re aiming for the capital.”

One machine slicing through the sky of the empire. It raced across the heavens, a single arrow aimed at shattering the peace of the capital.

My whole body’s locked tight with tension.

Sweat’s seeping into my palms—sticky, warm, prickling against my skin.

The chime of bells, drifting from nowhere, echoes deep in my gut. The pipe organ’s tone turns this place into something holy.

Today’s the wedding day. I’m here in the church, waiting for the bride, watched by guests.

And then— the door opens.

She’s welcomed in with applause— Ange, wrapped in a pure white wedding dress.

Ange walks slowly toward me, head down, escorted by the village elder. She reaches the front row, releases his hand, and steps down to stand before me.

“…You look amazing.”

“Thank you.”

I whisper, and Ange answers with a smile, soft and sweet.

We grin at each other, then face forward.

The church’s front is adorned with a magnificent stained glass depicting the god of this world, glowing beautifully through the sunlight.

But even so, it fades in comparison to Ange right now.

The priest nods once, and the ceremony begins.

The basic flow’s the same as the old Western-style weddings I’ve seen before—exchange vows, swap rings, share a kiss. There are little extras, but for the guests, this is the main event.

Ange and I follow the ritual without a hitch.

“I vow.”

“I vow.”

We weave our promises, hand over the rings.

The priest motions, and I turn to Ange.

“The kiss of vows.”

The words trail off—then I press my lips gently to hers.

I’d kissed her a hundred times before. But this—here, in front of everyone, in front of our friends—felt different. Like, somehow, I was really being made to swear it.

“Here, before all of you, I recognize this union. May the gods bless these two, that they stand together, forever side by side.”

The priest’s words echoed, and we all—guests, too—bowed our heads in prayer.

That was the main part done.

But in this world, the real work starts now.

Back in my old life, we’d have left the church, changed clothes, and gone straight to the reception. Not here. No exit.

We’re staying right here. The reception begins—standing, no chairs, just wine and bread and laughter.

“Please, everyone, step outside.”

Following the sister’s signal, the guests filed out into the garden first.

We walked through the empty church, quiet now, and stepped out into the sunlit garden.

There, colorful dishes and wine were laid out, the whole garden already buzzing with the air of a party.

And then, the no-rules drinking began.

"Cheers with drink! Drink, drink!"

"Alright, Ritz, first one’s yours—down in one!"

Tension already sky-high after just a few seconds. Guess this is normal for weddings in this world.

Incidentally, the guests were our parents, the Armunale crew, Ange’s maid friends, and some academy classmates of mine.

Leon and Batis couldn’t make it—they were on the front lines—but someone had shown up to represent them at the ceremony, at least.

"Let’s go."

"Uh-huh. Everyone, time for the bouquet toss!"

Ange raised her bouquet toward the members already diving into food and drink without waiting for us. Her voice cut through the noise. The maid friends’ faces instantly shifted—eyes sharpening like hunters spotting prey.

"Hey!"

Ange’s bouquet arced through the air, soaring toward her maid friends.

A moment of chaos erupted.

Fire burst, water surged, wind howled, earth heaved.

One maid was flung into the sky, another knocked aside, a third collapsed right where she stood.

In the blink of an eye, one of them caught the bouquet. And beneath her feet—bodies of the friends she’d once known.

...uh, what the hell is this...

“Maidens, huh. Damn impressive.”

“Hmph. Told you. All top students, so this was expected. Oh, by the way—the girl who caught it? She’s a support maid.”

“Huh…”

We stepped out into the garden, grinning with a twisted sort of smile.

By then, the fallen maids had risen again, cheering the girl who’d caught the bouquet. What even *are* maids...

“Here, drink this.”

“Thanks—”

Just stepping out into the garden, one of the sisters suddenly thrusts a wine glass at us, as if she’d been waiting. I reached for it—then froze, eyes widening at the sight of the sister.

Before I could think, I grabbed her head firm and held it in place, not letting her escape.

“Hey—what’re you doing here? What about your punishment?”

“Lady Ines!?!”

Ange, startled by my sudden move, froze even more when she realized the sister was actually the princess.

“This is my knight’s celebration! Of course I’m here to honor him!”

That’s right—disguised as a nun, who else but the princess herself?

“Did you get permission from the king?”

“I’m here as a humble nun, entrusted to the church by my orphaned status! No permission needed from the king!”

“You *must* have permission! Get back to your room now! You think you won’t get in trouble if they find out?!”

It’ll be fine! I had the maid disguised instead! They’re probably sipping the finest tea right now, tapping their tongues in delight! But more importantly—wedding feast! Drink, sing, dance, make a ruckus!

You just wanted to do that, didn’t you…

Being locked inside is harder than I thought! Even a bird in a cage needs to fly once in a while, or it’ll die too young!

Huh… go back early, already.

She won’t listen to a word I say in this mood, and if I keep talking to the sister, everyone’ll start eyeing us funny.

I just warned her to head back early, then slipped into the crowd where the others were waiting with drinks.

Two hours into the celebration—still buzzing, still wild, still a full-blown party.

Some maid was putting on a fire-breathing act, and a mechanic was dancing around half-naked like he’d forgotten his clothes.

Yeah… this isn’t how a wedding’s supposed to be, is it…? Leon and I are just playing background characters here.

“Eld, having fun?”

“Princess. Didn’t get back yet?”

“Almost time. They’re even here to pick me up.”

She said that, then glanced toward the church entrance—there was the usual sidekick maid, rolling up in a carriage.

“Huh. Well, thanks, anyway. It’s nice to have someone celebrate with me.”

“Mm, if you want to thank me, work harder tomorrow.”

“Leave it to me. I’ll go full-on hero and claim every damn medal.”

“Count on it. See you tomorrow, at the palace.”

She turned to leave—just then, the alarm bells rang out across the capital.

Everyone looked up, startled. I froze. The meaning of that sound hit me like cold water.

"This is the Avilabomb alarm!? No way—they actually fired it!?"

It was the brand-new air-defense alarm, only rolled out last month.

At the same moment, anti-air guns mounted along the outer wall began spitting out rounds.

"Your Highness, get to the castle immediately! Maids with free hands, guide the civilians to safety! First Guard Armunale Unit, stay on standby in the storage bay! We might get the order to launch—keep everything ready to move!"

"Of course. All systems are prepped."

"Where’s the aircraft?"

"Still in Base Bay Eight."

"Got it. I’ll drop you off, then head there."

Even in the middle of all this chaos, the soldier’s got it together. Calm, sharp—exactly what you need when the sky starts screaming.

The maids moved at once, following orders, starting to guide the civilians to safety. My squad dashed toward the Armunale.

"Ange, looks like the wedding’s off, sorry."

"Can’t help it, huh."

Ange shrugged, then smiled. Then Father and the others arrived.

"Eld, this—"

"Enemy attack’s coming. Dad, follow the maids’ instructions and get to the shelter. We’re heading to the castle to gather intel. Might have to go out on the field."

"Ah."

"Eld-chan, be careful."

"Ange, you stay sharp."

"I’ll do my best."

"Right!"

"Come on, hurry up and evacuate."

I urged them, and the maids led Father and the others out of the church—when a shadow fell across the sky.

I looked up, thinking it was already here—there was a thick spear there. No, wait. That’s!?! Armunale!?

Before I could even process it, the machine roared into the sky above the capital, splitting apart with a bang—its legs peeling off like rocket stages.

Avilabombs tore free from Armunale’s legs, scattering into pieces as they tumbled down toward the city.

At the same moment, Armunale itself plunged straight into the palace.

No one could even scream at the sight.

The palace, smoking. And embedded into its wall like a wound—a single black Armunale.

The seat of the nation’s highest power had been attacked.

And the scattered Avilabombs rained down across the city, setting fire to every corner.

"Your Highness! The palace is too risky. Get out of town—stay safe. I’ll go retrieve the unit."

"Eld, there are two royal guards stationed at the palace. You should go after the other one."

"The other one?"

"Follow that one."

Ines pointed. There, someone was descending with a parachute.

"Jumped from an Avilabomb. Likely a key player—catch them for sure."

"Got it."

The parachute was heading toward the base, probably.

Maybe they’re planning to steal a unit from the base. Then we’ll beat them to it—lock them down first.

"Ange, Ange, I’m counting on you to guard the Princess."

"Understood."

Ange didn’t hesitate. She tore off her wedding dress, ripping it into a mini-skirt to move easier.

"Your Highness, I’ll be at your side."

"Thank you. I’m glad you’re here. Please, protect me."

I watched the carriage carrying the princess and Ange roll away, then bolted for the base with everything I had.

Peace ends here