1

The day after the capital was attacked. The news reached the front-line base of Enahato, deep in the most pressed-in ε-block.

But only the commander and deputy commander inside the base, the overall captain of the soldier corps, and the captains of the Armunale unit were told that information.

And among them was Batis Obern, newly promoted to captain just days ago.

The Emperor has passed, and the Second Prince, Lord Yugo, is gone too.

When the commander relayed the news from the messenger, a wave of shock ran through everyone.

Of course. Two people who’ve been running the military all this time—gone at once. The fallout’s impossible to measure.

"Where's the enemy—what happened to the ones who attacked us?!"

Still on the run, they say. Fled into the γ block, and the Third Armunale unit’s on their tail.

“Where the hell were the guards? This is what guards are for, isn’t it!”

“Might as well.”

The squad leaders were all grumbling at the Guard Knights who’d failed their duty. To them, the Guard Knights weren’t just a unit—they were the ones everyone admired, the ones you secretly envied. So when they messed up, it was only natural they’d complain.

“Never mind that—look at our side. The attack on the capital’s definitely the enemy’s plan. If we’re rattling them, they might just panic and push back.”

“What’s the enemy doing? Shouldn’t they be three-seven units handling this?”

Batis answered the commander’s question.

“Nothing’s changed on their end so far. They’ve just been watching us and pulling back. Might’ve been checking how our base’s shaking up, though.”

“Hmm. Tell the security detail to keep the sky watch tight.”

If they’re watching us like that, an attack could come any day now. And if that happens, it’s not hard to guess they’ll bring that weapon down on us.

The machine guns are mostly set up, but the commander didn’t think that was enough—not even close. He remembers the first defense line base, how it took the same kind of Avila Bomb assault. His fist tightens.

“We can’t afford to pull back any further. We hold this line—no matter what. Once the rear—(the capital)—is secure, we go on the offensive. Keep your nerves taut, but don’t break. And keep any news of the attack quiet from the troops. If they find out, panic could crack their resolve.”

‘Understood.’

“That’s all. Back to your posts, everyone.”

The commander’s words dissolved the meeting, and Batis returned to his post.

“Captain, you’re back. What was the meeting about?”

When Batis reached his station—the machine hangar—a boy with oil smeared on his nose tapped him on the shoulder with a wrench.

It was Nalay, one of Batis’s squad members.

“Just some light scolding. Might go on the offensive in a few days, so keep your spirits up.”

“Oh? So the resistance operation’s finally starting, huh?”

Nalay’s face brightened at the word “resistance.”

Since they’d pulled back to the second defensive line, the whole base had felt heavy, dim—like the air itself had gone still.

When Batis and the others were assigned here, it felt almost like defeat. But now that they’d managed to hold the enemy back firmly at this base, the soldiers’ spirits were slowly lifting—some even started voicing support for a counterattack, like Nailye.

Nailye grinned, all bright-eyed and eager. Batis, on the other hand, just shrugged and let out a quiet sigh.

“Meh, we’re just back-end anyway, right?”

Didn’t mean he minded the idea of a counterattack. Far from it—he’d gotten his own custom machine, after all. Wanted to tear through the battlefield like a storm.

But this was a frontline base, and the hardest-hit one at that. Twelve Armunale units had gathered here already.

Twelve. That kind of number? Naturally, it brought hierarchy with it.

All the Armunale units should’ve been equal, except for the First Guard Armunale Battalion—but you’re human, so age always creeps in somehow.

Batis had climbed to captain of the Armunale unit at just eighteen. That kind of leap? Naturally, not everyone liked it.

You’d think Eld might’ve had the same talk going on, but no—Eld shut it down with his results. So all the frustration just piled up on Batis instead.

As a result, Batis was always stuck in the back, told to guard the base, haul supplies, the usual grueling chores.

“Right now, get the unit in top shape. Then we’re doing the star-viewing party. Nailay, get some real sleep. Skip it, and you’ll hear it again—just like last time.”

I know, I know. Everyone else is catching a nap in turn. The machine’s ready anytime.

Oh, then I’ll just tinker with it a bit.

Just until it starts up.

I get it, I get it.

Batis gave a light wave and climbed aboard the machine.

He slid into the cockpit and powered it up.

Various monitors lit up, screens flashing the machine’s status.

Uh-huh, feels good. That’s the response I wanted, isn’t it?

Of course. We’ve been giving it our full effort in the repairs.

A voice came from behind. Batis turned—Nailay was peering over the cockpit.

But are you really sure about this? It’s your own custom machine, and you’re leaving it nearly stock?

Batis’s machine wasn’t outfitted with flashy gear like Eld’s, nor was it being tinkered with in the cockpit.

The machine was using basic equipment as-is, and the handling felt almost exactly like the academy’s training models.

Power had increased thanks to advancements in the generator and the evolution of the physics processor—what we call a sense board—but even with those tweaks, it was still something any graduate of the academy could fly.

Everyone in Batis’s unit had said they could’ve upgraded it more, changed the gear however they liked. But Batis wouldn’t budge.

“Yeah, sure, the stock model might not stand out like a custom one. But this thing? It’s got no flaws. It’ll hold its own in any situation, and it’s the kind of machine that really tests the pilot’s skill. Perfect for me, right?”

“Sounds like you’re saying you’re the best at it.”

“Exactly what I said.”

Batis chuckled, gripping the control stick and pressing down on the rudder pedals.

Generator output climbed, and a fierce vibration shuddered through the cockpit.

"Captain, you really shouldn’t do that."

"I know, I know."

Heeding Naeli’s warning, Batis eased down the power.

Then he shut the generator off completely.

The lights on the panel flickered out. The cockpit plunged into darkness.

"Sure, I didn’t graduate top of my class, and I never beat him—once. But that don’t mean I’m okay with being second best. I’ll tell him straight—when it comes to piloting, I’m the best. And I’ll prove it, even if it kills me."

"Big dream, but aren’t you pushing it a little? I mean, that guy’s Eld—the one-armed pilot, right?"

One-armed automaton. Lately, the name had been climbing like eels up the pole, Eld’s fame spreading fast among the front-line soldiers.

He’d stride into the forward base, slashing through enemies with that single arm. His movements—unnervingly precise, yet somehow unnatural—were like no machine ever made. He’d sweep through the oncoming foes like a demon, relentless, terrifying. It wasn’t war. Not really.

It was slaughter.

As Guard Knight to Princess Ines, he cut down anyone who stood in his way—no mercy.

All for the one he loved. That’s how they described his heroic deeds, with a mysterious catchphrase tossed in. In the base, in the taverns nearby, it was just good entertainment, something to chew on with a drink.

“One-armed automaton, huh. These days, he’s using both arms—left one’s fine now, you know.”

The left arm had been functional enough for Eld’s own use, even if it wasn’t much to look at. So technically, calling him one-armed was wrong—but Batis had stopped caring about technicalities. He just let it be. And this was the result.

“But I heard Eld’s machine—his left arm’s just a weapon locker, no joints, can’t really function properly, right?”

“Hah. That’s true enough.”

It was only good for swinging like a iron post or acting as a shield. Sure, if you called it a left arm, you’d have to wonder.

“Anyway, how he fights now? Doesn’t matter. The point is, he’s damn strong.”

I know Eld’s strength. Fought him more than once back at the Academy. Even saw him on the battlefield, side by side.

And yet—Eld had let the enemy machine slip through his fingers during the attack on the capital.

What kind of enemy is this, anyway?

Batis recalls the conversation he’d just heard, muttering quietly to himself. The words don’t reach Nairai.

“Say something?”

“Nah. Just gonna hit the sack.”

“Ah, yes. Good night.”

Watching Batis jump down from the unit and head toward the hangar, Nairai tilts his head again.

Evening. The base glows red in the sunset light when the alert sounds at the front-line outpost.

“Hey, couldn’t you come a little later?!”

Batis jolts awake from his nap, flings off the blanket, grabs his uniform, and sprints toward the hangar.

The alarm ringing through the base now is the new anti-air alert. Means the Avila Bombs are coming.

“Everyone accounted for?!”

“Yes!”

You know what the siren means, right? Get to your stations—now! Maintenance crew, get ready to evacuate! Don’t forget to stow the flammables!

Batis barked orders to his squad, following the Avila Bomb attack protocol, and powered up his machine.

“Batis unit, moving out!”

A shout, and Batis’s machine shot from the hangar. It arced down toward the soldiers guarding the outer wall from the Empire side.

The soldiers were already bracing for anti-air fire.

“Sergeant—enemy—”

“Light sighting in the east. Number unknown.”

“What about the Abnomyle unit?”

“Sending out what we can. They’re lined up outside the wall.”

“Got it. I’ll take command there. Leave the guns to me.”

“Yes, sir! Leave it to us!”

Smirking at the sergeant puffing his chest on the outer wall, Batis stepped out past the base. There, just as the sergeant had said, stood the kingdom’s Abnomyle units lined up, readying their defense.

“How many more can we expect?”

“Up to twenty, sir.”

“Then spread out more. The gate’ll get jammed.”

“Sorry, sir!”

He barked at the Abnomyle units lined up near the gate, shoving them back toward the rear. One after another, more Abnomyle units filed out from the base and took their places along the outer wall.

About thirty in total. Nearly all the Abnomyle units currently stationed here.

The Abnomyle were still being rushed into production at factories across the capital and Fortran, but with only so many units on the front lines, not many had been deployed yet.

Still, it was a decent number to counter Avilabomb. The Abnomyle equipped with Harmonica Pistrels were no joke.

"Coming any second now! Everyone, raise your Harmonica Pistrels to the sky!"

"Yes!"

The Abnomyle pilots were mostly academy dropouts or volunteers from maintenance school. So their training was sloppy and they’d never seen real combat.

Batis glanced at the pilots’ tense voices, wondering if they’d be alright, then switched the monitor back from sky to horizon.

Zooming in, he spotted shifting shadows deep in the dark.

"Damn it—so they’ve thrown in the Abnomyle too. How many of those big ones—Armunale—are there?"

He tried to zoom in further, but telling the Abnomyle apart from the Armunale in the dark was near impossible.

Giving up on identification, Batis warned the kingdom’s Abnomyle units.

“Hey, you lot—Imperial mass-produced ones are coming. Get ready. After Avilabomb drops, we’re fighting.”

『Understood.』

“Huh. So that means they’re our catch, right?”

The voice came from inside the base. Out from the gate emerged five Armunale units—each already armed, already on alert.

“Ground targets are ours. You keep an eye on the sky.”

“Just what I was hoping for.”

“Batis, you watch the sky too. That’s your job—babysitting.”

“Yessir. Hey, Captain, what about the others?”

I asked about the rest of the Armunale unit, though I wasn’t surprised.

“Others are holding the base. Can’t say for sure the one from yesterday won’t come this way.”

We had regular soldiers on hand, so I played it vague with that “yesterday’s guy,” but it was clear enough—this was about the Armunale unit that hit the capital with Avilabombs.

If they’re down, they’ll still smash right into the base on momentum. That’s why five of us stayed behind.

“Those guys got rotten luck. Left behind in a bonus stage like this.”

“Likely.”

“Commanders—don’t know how many Armunale they’re facing. Keep your eyes open.”

“Ha. Leave the ones hiding behind cardboard cutouts alone.”

“Even if they’re scared, they’ll run off once their guard’s down.”

“Just—be careful, okay?”

I figured they wouldn’t listen anyway, but I said it anyway.

Then I looked up—Avilabomb clusters were drawing close.

“Avilabomb unit, follow my orders—open fire.”

‘Understood!’

Batis readied his magic, poised for the attack. Meanwhile, the other knights had already launched from the base, charging toward the imperial Abnomule.

I sighed, shaking my head at their lack of seriousness, eyes locked on the approaching Avilabombs.

And as soon as they crossed into Harmonica Pistle’s range, I shouted:

“Begin firing!”

A thunderous crack split the air—shockwave rippled through the atmosphere, jolting my eardrums.

The volley of bullets fired in unison missed most of the Avila Bombs, but a few struck home—exploding with sharp cracks.

The sky blazed bright all at once, illuminating the shadows writhing beneath it.

There they were—dozens of Abnomyle. And mixed in among them, right up at the front line, the Armunale units.

Ten machines at least. Maybe more.

“Who the hell are these many!?”

“Those markings—mercenaries, right!?”

“Damn it, fall back! We can’t handle this many!”

I stared, dumbfounded, as the Armunale squad on our side flinched and scrambled back in panic at the enemy’s reveal. Batis didn’t waste time—she cast her spell, cutting down the Avila Bombs with cold precision.

The Abnomyle and machine guns kept dropping Avila Bombs in droves.

And Batis, one by one, cleaned up the stragglers with her magic.

“Avila Bombs—seems we’re managing okay.”

No Avila Bombs with Armunale to worry about—every single one of them was shot down before it could reach the base.

The ground situation was far worse than the sky’s clean sweep.

The Armunale they’d been chasing was surrounded now, backed into a corner.

“Tch. Thought you lot were all talk.”

With the generator running at full blast, pushing heat away, Batis steered her craft across the plain to help them out.

She skewered one Abnomule nearby with her blade, then swept down the rest behind it in one motion.

“Commanders—what’re you doing, you idiots?! Get back to base now! Regroup with the rear forces!”

“Who the hell’re you—”

“Me? I’m talking to you—surrounded like that! If you don’t want to die, shut up and follow orders!”

“Tch.”

A loud click of the tongue echoed—seemed like he agreed to retreat, at least.

Following the path Batis had carved, we fell back slowly, keeping the enemy machines occupied.

In that time, Batis stepped forward, standing before the Armunale troops mixed with mercenaries.

“Sorry, but this way’s closed.”

“Huh? What’re you gonna do with just one?”

“Delaying, attacking, shooting down—what’ll it be?”

He tossed it off with a smirk, eyeing the situation around him.

The Imperial Abnomule were heading straight for the Royal Abnomule. The Royal side was using their Harmonica Pistole advantage, whittling them down little by little before they got close. And just as the Avilabomb settled, fresh Armunale reinforcements poured out from the base.

With them here, Batis decided it’d be fine—he turned his full attention to the ones in front of him.

If I can just buy enough time, I can gather all the Armunale and throw them back into the fight. That’s exactly what Batis aimed for right here—

“Then let’s give it our best shot, huh? If I pull off something like this, I’ll earn myself a nickname. And once that happens, girls’ll be lining up to—”

—complete annihilation of the enemy units.