4

The second night after the attack on the capital. A soldier burst into the royal chamber.

Inside, the royal family, high lords, and us guards were gathered.

"Message from the front! A major assault on Enahat! We’ve fought hard and temporarily held them off, but heavy casualties. They’re requesting urgent reinforcements!"

The faces around the table didn’t flinch with shock—more like, "So it’s come."

We’d expected the enemy to resume their advance once the capital fell. We just hadn’t known where it’d come from. But now it matched the worst guesses.

I glanced at the princess. She looked back, gave a single nod, and rose to her feet.

"Your Majesty, then I shall proceed to the front, as planned."

"Ah… but can you even make it in time now?"

“I’ll send Eld ahead to Enahat with the prototype weapons from the Development Division. I’ll follow behind with Dennis Editt and Jean Laurent.”

“That one… Got it. I’ll leave Enahat to you.”

“Leave it to me.”

Lady Ines bowed to King Darius, then stepped out of the room.

I followed her into the hallway and called out.

“Are you really going to use that?”

“Yes—good thing I pushed the Development Division to hurry up with the prototypes.”

“Still, having to equip something made in a single day… I really hate that.”

Even if it’s a proven design, slapping a prototype onto a unit and sending it straight into combat? That’s practically a flashing red flag for explosion…

“Can’t help it.”

“Huh…”

Seems like Lady Ines isn’t going to take my objections seriously.

I let out a sigh and headed straight for the base’s hangar with the princess by my side.

“Get the unit out! How’s the new gear coming along!?”

Stepping inside the hangar, I shouted at the technician. What came back was a voice I hadn’t expected.

“What are you on about! Your machine’s still not fixed, you know!”

“Why!?”

Looking over, my mech was still missing its left leg, hanging from the cradle.

The Artifigoj had been removed, too—probably for repairs—and now the original left arm was exposed.

Princess Ines stared, mouth slightly open, stunned by the unexpected sight of a one-legged machine.

Then, Orell stepped down from the cradle, scratching his head hard.

You think I’m just gonna magically refill the gear on the captain’s machine? That imbalance’s been fixed by custom frames—every single one made to order. Spare parts? They’re buried under the wreckage from that raid.

The storage bay we used—back when I was fighting in the palace—collapsed during the battle. So we’ve been patching things up at the base. Didn’t expect this mess to catch up with us like this.

Even if we salvage something from the rubble, it’ll be twisted out of shape. Useless. So I’m stuck with one leg until new gear shows up.

“W-what am I supposed to do now?! My plans are stalled!”

“Hey, ask me? When’s the replacement gear supposed to get here?”

“Should be here by tomorrow. I’ve prioritized it.”

“It won’t make it in time!”

The usual poised mask slips—Ines-sama clutches her head. The maintenance crew in the hangar stare, wide-eyed. My own squad’s used to this, but these folks don’t often see the princess up close. Compared to her usual parade-straight bearing, well… no wonder they’re shocked.

Still, I get it. She burst out of the conference room all fired up, ready to launch the plan—then suddenly, nothing. Like a spark going out.

“Is there no other machine we can use!?”

“There’s one… but it’s *that* one.”

Orell pointed to the Abnomyle units lined up in the corner of the hangar. They weren’t supposed to be here—normally, this hangar held nothing but spare parts and forgotten junk. But after the raid, the other hangars were wrecked, so these had been shoved in, crammed tight like old bones in a drawer.

“Eld, can we use that one!?”

“Huh? That thing? Slapping a prototype on a mass-production model? That’s suicide.”

“—Theoretically, though!?”

“I can do it.”

The durability specs on the Abnomyle said, in theory, they’d barely survive the shock of a prototype test run.

“Then use it! Please—send it to clear the front lines!”

Ugh. Pushing an Abnomyle straight into the middle of a full-scale invasion. Sounds like suicide, plain and simple. Well… not impossible, I guess.

Running a quick simulation in my head, calculating how much of a hassle we could cause the invasion force.

Hmm… not impossible. If push comes to shove, I’ll just borrow one of our own Armunale units.

“Ah… well, no choice. Orell, load the prototype onto the Abnomyle. And equip it with four swords, a harmonica pistol, and four magazines, please.”

“Got it. I’ll have it ready before sunrise. You all—pause maintenance for now. I’m getting a replacement unit prepped for the captain!”

Orell called out, barking orders to the mechanics.

The crew all blinked in shock, eyes wide.

“Then I’ll get my gear ready too.”

“Good. I’m counting on you. I’ll be on my way as soon as I’m set. It’s odd of me to say this, but… be careful out there.”

"Right on time—waiting for you at the base, just as promised."

I bowed like a proper butler, all polite and proper.

Dawn was just breaking, the sky pale and washed out. I was in the cockpit of the Abnomylle, running final checks on the machine.

The Abnomylle I was riding had just been rolled out of the hangar—new prototype gear being fitted to its back. Five Avilabombs, mounted like spines.

Recreated from the enemy craft we’d seen during the royal city attack. The only difference? Where Folzé’s units had their Avilabombs angled parallel to the ground, mine were fixed level with the机身, nozzles pointed straight down—like a rocket launch pad. Right now, they were locked in place, rigid as stone.

That’s supposed to lock it tight, makes controlling the craft in midair a little easier—though it does look a bit clumsy, I’ll admit.

“Balancer normal, all hydraulic checks green, Avilabomb connected, wings operational—good. Elevation angle okay, arm unit secured to Avilabomb. Leg locks complete. The release button’s this one here.”

“Eld Captain, a moment, please?”

“Huh? Karine?”

Just as I finished my final check, Karine’s voice came from behind the pilot’s seat. I’d already strapped myself in, so I only turned my head to look back.

“Entered Avilabomb’s control code into the physics engine—sense board, I mean—so there might still be a glitch lingering. Did my best to check, but in such a short time, you know how it goes. If anything feels off, purge it quick or jump out right away.”

“Got it. But it’ll be fine, right? I know Karine’s got her hands on things.”

She’s always pulled off the impossible before. Even if she says there might be a bug, the job’s probably near flawless.

Still checking all the data now—nothing’s out of place.

“Even if the physics engine’s clean, the Avilabomb itself might be faulty. Don’t get cocky.”

“Yeah… I guess.”

After all, it’s a prototype. Better to expect something to go sideways than be surprised when it does.

I snap my cheek to refocus, sharp and clear.

“Alright! I’m going in—step back now.”

“Good luck.”

Karine steps away from the machine, and the other crew members wrap up their work, retreating to safety.

Then I catch sight of Ange, frantically waving her hand inside the camera.

“Ange, what’s up?”

“What’s for dinner tonight!?”

“Now’s not the time for that!?”

I’m about to dive straight into the front lines, after all. Even though Ange’s supposed to join us tonight, this feels… oddly casual.

The others who’ve already evacuated are chuckling.

“We’ve gotta have a victory party, right? I’ll make your favorite!”

“Hmm… how about fried stuff? I want meat—lots of it.”

“Got it. Just wait and see.”

With that, Ange turns and heads back toward where the other team members are clearing out.

I watch Ange’s back as she walks away, then call out to the rest.

“Light ‘er up! Watch it!”

Then I flip the ignition switch.

With a deep roar, the machine shudders violently. The camera catches thick smoke billowing up and a scarlet flame licking the sky. Looks like ignition went off fine.

I keep cranking up Avilabomb’s output.

A fierce G presses against me—then the world tilts upward, the ground shrinking fast beneath me, the scenery blurring into a distant speck.

“Flight’s a go. Now, angle.”

I adjust the plane’s tilt by shifting the newly added Avilabomb wing lever inside. Mess this up, and we’ll fly off in the wrong direction entirely. Gotta be careful—real careful—

“Here it is.”

I check the monitor, wait for the target angle, then snap the wing back into place.

According to the researchers, this thing should be doing around five hundred kilometers an hour.

Honestly, I was a bit doubtful—five hundred klicks and this thing’s supposed to stay airborne?—but it’s flying just fine, somehow.

Straight ahead like this, we’ll be there in about two hours. It’s still early—five in the morning, sun not up yet—but the sky’s starting to lighten.

If they hit us first thing this morning, we’d be too late to respond, but we could probably jump in mid-battle.

I keep a close eye on the monitor, straight-line toward the front lines.

“So, I saw the fight, dropped an Avila Bomb, and bailed out mid-air.”

“Are you out of your mind?!”

I cut straight to the point, explaining the whole mess in a single breath.

Batis’s reaction? About as sensible as you’d expect.

But it’s a shame we can’t go much further with this nonsense. Honestly, though—this is where the real madness begins. After all, we’ve got an Abnomyle here, and they’ve got an Armunale.

“Been used to madness. Let’s finish this one first.”

“Alright.”

An Armunale, basic model. From the way Batis struggled earlier, the rider must be a seasoned knight.

“A rookie with one Abnomyle? How careless of them.”

“This one’s one of the kingdom’s top pilots. Don’t get cocky—you’ll pay for it.”

“A knight faces every enemy with full strength. No room for complacency!”

No sooner had he spoken than the enemy machine stepped forward.

We stepped forward too, me and Batis.

Must be the difference in output—Armunale’s legs move faster. Batis’s machine stepped out ahead of me, cutting in before the enemy machine.

I pivoted left right away, lunging for the enemy’s flank.

“Too easy!”

The enemy machine twisted sideways, dodging my strike, then forced Batis’s blade toward me.

“Trouble.”

Batis yanked his sword back, but the opening was wide.

The enemy machine tried to slip inside Batis’s guard. I’d seen that coming—I cut in between them, deflected the enemy’s blade.

“Not bad.”

“Hah, getting outmaneuvered by a mass-produced model? Not funny!”

Even with the unfamiliar console, I was starting to get the hang of it, and I had a rough sense of the battlefield.

Time to go all out, I think.

“Batis, pull back the one in the rear. Should be getting tight now.”

First thing’s first—we gotta pull back the one in the back, the one handling the Abnomyle crew all by himself. Pretty skilled pilot, seems like. But after fighting this long, his weapons are nearly all spent. If we keep going like this, he’ll just get taken down by running out of ammo. Not exactly a thrilling end, is it.

“Got it. Leon! Pull back!”

“Already?!”

“Wait—Leon?!”

“Huh? That voice—Eld, isn’t it? Thought I’d be getting a ghost or something, but this is a pretty flashy entrance.”

“Yeah, well… if it’s Leon, I can buy that.”

I adjust my grip, tracing the path of the blade I just deflected, then swing my own sword in a smooth arc.

The enemy machine jerks back sharply, avoiding a severed wrist. In that moment, I aim the harmonica pistol in my left hand at the joint of its leg. But it shifts just slightly—just enough—so I only manage a glancing wound. Not bad. Not good either.

Meanwhile, Leon’s already pulled back from the Abnomyle group and darted back toward us. Realizing they’re outnumbered, the enemy retreats all the way to the Abnomyle side.

“Alright, hand this over to Leon. The Harmonica Pistole’s body okay?”

I toss him two swords and two magazines from my own gear—Leon’s practically out of supplies. Should be enough to hold things together here.

“Yeah, thanks.”

“Right. Now, let’s hit back—properly this time. Main thing’s Batis. Only one of them’s got a decent unit, so let him earn his keep.”

“Got it! Just give the word.”

“Then let’s go—synced up and shining bright!”

Leading the charge, the three of us surge forward at once, straight at the enemy.

Of course, the first thing to come out was the enemy’s Armunale. The others looked like they were hesitating—backing off a little. Must be the impact of my entrance, and Leon holding down one all by himself. If we take out that Armunale, we can push through here in one go.

On the other side of the field, the Armunales are slamming into each other head-on. Gotta move fast before their reinforcements show up.

No time to dawdle.

“Batis, hit the Abnomule with magic. Leon, stay right behind me.”

“Got it.”

“Understood.”

Flames rose around Batis’s machine—spears of fire, swirling and crackling.

They shot forward with a thunderous *thump* of displaced air, streaking straight for the Abnomule behind the Armunale.

Never thought the Armunale would ignore the Armunale, not even for a second—backline troops went all wobbly, like they’d lost their footing.

“Keep targeting Batis from behind. Leon, you’re on the rear too.”

“Coward! A knight should fight a knight!”

“So I’m the one you’re fighting, ain’t I?!”

I stepped in front of the enemy unit charging at Batis’s machine.

I’m a proper knight of the realm, ain’t I? Got no complaints.

“Get outta my way!”

“Man, you’re no fun! Leon, you feelin’ the same, right?”

“Damn straight!”

“Hmph…”

While I was holding the line, Leon’s unit—just a moment ago veering toward the Abnomule—suddenly struck from behind.

The enemy unit barely had time to react. It shoved my machine aside with brute force, then dodged Leon’s strike.

Gotta admit, I'm getting outmatched by raw power. Honestly, there's just no way around the gap in skill. Well, that’s why we’ve got multiple units on our side.

“Hurry up, or you’re dead!”

“Don’t you dare underestimate me!”

The enemy machine aimed straight at me and Leon, firing magic at the same time.

Normally I’d cancel it with a magic shield—but this one doesn’t have one. So dodging’s the only option.

Ice spears launched at point-blank range. I slid sideways, slipping through the enemy’s legs, and fired a few quick shots from my harmonica pistol at the crotch.

One of the three hits a joint—small explosion.

“What?!”

“Now! Batis!”

“Been waiting for this!”

Batis, who’d sprinted up right beside the enemy, answered my call.

"Back already!? My Abnomüle forces!?"

"Then let Leon have a little fun with 'em!"

Leon, who’d kept his distance to dodge the magic, switched roles with me—now spraying the Abnomüle with harmonica pistols, drawing their fire. My crouch beneath them was just to keep them from noticing. If they’re below, their eyes’ll stay down, right?

Batis’s full-force charge, all momentum, speared clean through the enemy’s flank.

"Damn it!"

"Been a pain in the neck long enough. Now it ends!"

Batis gripped his sword with both hands and lifted it high.

At the same instant, the blade slashed upward from the enemy’s side, cleaving through the cockpit—shattering it, tearing it apart.

"Yesss!"

"Batis, get back! The generator’s gonna blow!"

“Yikes!?”

Batis’s upward slash had torn straight through the generator—right beneath the cockpit.

He’d overcommitted, pushed too hard. Off-target, a little.

I flung myself back instinctively, putting distance between me and the enemy craft.

Then—*boom*—a massive explosion ripped through the air. Our机 was knocked flat by the shockwave. It didn’t stop there. The blast felled every Armunale and Abnomule nearby, like a storm through a field of wheat.

“Damn… so this is what a generator explosion feels like.”

I scrambled to my feet as the tremors faded. The monitor flashed the scene straight into my eyes.

Nearly every machine on the battlefield was down. Trees—every single one—had been torn apart, scattered like kindling.

The exposed earth rippled like a wave after an impact, with a crater at its center—nothing left but emptiness.

"Shit... we're done for. Eld, what the hell do I do now!?"

"Stay calm. We destroyed the enemy's generator. Not the Emperor’s property yet—safe."

Probably.

"Y-yeah, really safe, right?"

"Sure, I’ll give a little nudge if needed."

"Sayin' 'a little nudge' doesn’t make it safe, you know!?"

"S-so, we’re still in the middle of a fight! Let’s finish off those fallen enemies at once!"

My words rang out sharp in the silence after the explosion.

And the enemy Abnomyle, hearing it, snapped back to themselves—then started fleeing.

"M-maybe wait! Desertion in front of the enemy is a capital offense!?"

The enemy’s Armunale were struggling to hold it back, but once the wave had formed, it didn’t fade easily.

Like spiders scattering their young, the Abnomyle were fleeing—so, too, did the Armunale soldiers, abandoning the line, step by step.

By sheer accident, the generator’s explosion had ended the battle.

“S’pose we ought to get the paperwork ready, Batis.”

I laid a hand on Batis’s shoulder, still dazed, and smiled—giving the death sentence with a grin.