6

I’m left dumbfounded by the princess’s sudden announcement. She, on the other hand, looks utterly delighted.

"Uh, you serious about this?"

Of course. I’m certain a knight of mine can do it.

No, now’s the time to doubt a little, don’t you think?

I’ve weighed my knight’s strength, and my judgment’s clear—no room for doubt. And we haven’t time to dawdle. It’s been nearly half a year since that place fell. My spies report the condition of our captured people’s been growing dire.

Seems the princess had already sent spies over to the enemy side, all along.

The soldiers who missed their escape, the common folk, and the villagers from the surrounding areas that’ve been overrun—they’re all being herded together and forced into labor. Not getting proper meals, so people are dying off every day. Reports say there’s a real risk the sickness could spread further now.

“That’s….”

Bad. If they’re already weak and the sickness spreads, it’ll hit everyone there like a storm—kill them all in no time.

And if we retake the base, we’ll find the whole area already beyond fixing.

“That’s why we need to free the people fast. My knights will lay the groundwork for that.”

“What do you mean?”

“Your troops take over the base, then we’ll spring the Armunale unit we’ve been holding back behind enemy lines—free the town and the surrounding area all at once. Medical teams and supplies are already lined up. They’ll come right behind my knights’ swords.”

So it’s all set up so that, really, I just need to lead my troops and make the plan work.

Then the real question is—how fast can I break open that base? If they’re gathering prisoners in one place, taking that spot first means we won’t have to worry about hostages. But then again, if we can’t take it first… the whole operation’s a wash.

So charging head-on at Armunale’s front? Not smart. Gotta sneak in from the back, secure the prisoner area before anything else.

Which means… I’m supposed to pick my own squad for this.

“How’s that for understanding?”

Understood. I’ll make sure this order succeeds—no doubt about it.

I nod, and the princess smiles, warm and bright.

“You said that, I knew you would. Captain Katz, after this, gather up the data on the soldiers here and hand it to Eld. Eld’ll use it to gather your people before your machine arrives. This order’s binding—higher authority. Oh, but Dennis and Jean? No, not them. They’ve got another job.”

Higher authority, huh. That means this command carries the fourth most power—after the Queen, the Overseer, and the Grand Commander. Right now, there’s no one else who can refuse it but the princess.

So that’s it. I’m not just asking for help. I’m being ordered to assemble this squad.

“Understood. I’ll have the list ready by tomorrow morning.”

Gonna be a long night, Commander Katz—gotta pull together a full roster for the whole base by tomorrow morning. My condolences.

“Then, once I’ve received it, I’ll begin selecting the candidates. Can the operation wait until my unit’s been fully tuned up?”

“Yes. Go out in top form. I know this one’s no walk in the park.”

“Understood.”

I gave a single nod. The meeting was adjourned.

“Eld-kun!”

After the princess returned to her room, I stepped into the hallway—right as Ange came barreling toward me.

I caught her, ran a hand over her head. The scent of cooking still clung to her, warm and rich, like something just pulled from the pot.

“Hey, you’re back. Good job.”

“Eld-kun, you too! I’ve got dinner all ready!”

“Really? The mess hall?”

“No, I figured the mess hall’d be too noisy, so I brought it to my room.”

“Yeah, that’s a real help.”

There’s stuff I gotta think about later. Eating in my room’s a real treat.

Wait—before that, gotta check one thing.

“Who’s coming with me from my squad?”

Before they came here, I heard Orell mentioned leaving a few people behind in the capital for maintenance and transport. Didn’t get around to deciding exactly who, so I just left it to Orell. So I don’t even know who’s coming with me.

“Uh… it’s Bnois and Cathrea from reconnaissance, and Pamina the mechanic’s coming too.”

“Pamina too?”

I figured all the mechanics would stay behind. Guess she’s the one who made the cut.

“Orell said, ‘Eld’s bound to be pulling stupid stunts over here anyway, better have one proper mechanic on hand.’”

“Kukk, you understand it well.”

Just about the time I was thinking I’d need someone to tweak the borrowed Abnomyle. I’m not planning to mess with the physical processor—sense board, I mean—but I did want a bit of fine-tuning around the joints.

"C'mon, let's head to the room? The meal’ll get cold if we don’t hurry."

“Ah.”

We made our way back to the room, shouldering the jealous glares of the soldiers scattered around us.

Oh, nothing’s quite as sweet as someone else’s envy, now is it?

The next morning, I took the bundled documents and quickly called for one of the knights.

So, Batis, you’re on it.

"Guess I kinda figured it out, but—seriously, am I really the one for this?"

Batis, summoned to my private office—prepared just for me—stands straight before me, yet speaks in a voice cracked and worn.

Rank-wise, I’m above him—technically, Batis should be using honorifics—but right now it’s just me, Ange, and Batis here. Only friends are in on this, so no need to be stiff about it. Honestly, I hate Batis’s honorifics.

Truth is, Leon would’ve been perfect—three of us, all in sync—but Leon doesn’t have the Armunale yet. So it’s just Batis this time.

“Yeah, this one’s about speed—small, sharp, like a blade. I need someone who breathes with me.”

“I get that—but there are plenty of seasoned knights here, frontline veterans, really. Why pass them by and pick me? Feels off, don’t you think?”

“Not a problem. I’ve seen your skill myself. That’s why it’s easier to lead you. If you start saying you can do what you can’t, I’ll just be stuck, wondering what to do next.”

Knightly pride and all that nonsense—just saying I can do the impossible doesn’t help me one bit. This mission has to work. No room for failure. If I can’t do something, I’ll find another way. That’s why I need to know my limits. Be honest with myself.

“Huh. I guess.”

Batis doesn’t look convinced. Still scratching his hair like he’s not quite settled on it.

So I pull out my last card.

“Besides, I’m a noble—just a titled one. No real power, just a medal. Plenty of folks around here care about that sort of thing, right?”

Pilots are mostly nobles. Upper-class ones—like Batis or Leon, people with real standing, old blood, influence. Among them, there’ll always be someone who’d rather die than take orders from a commoner, even if they’re higher in rank. I don’t have time to build trust with every snooty noble who’s got a stick up their ass.

Got it. No point in refusing either way. I’ll accept your order—gratefully.

Right then, first command. If you’re picking one more knight from among Batis’s ranks, who’d you choose? Honestly, the dossier alone won’t cut it.

On the desk before me lies the soldiers’ files—just delivered this morning. Only Armunale riders can go, so regular troops are out. I skimmed through the list: ones good at infiltration, ones strong in combat, ones skilled in medicine—just picked a few at random. But trying to narrow it down to one? Can’t do it from specs alone. You can’t read someone’s mind from a checklist.

So I asked Batis, who’s been stationed here a few months now.

“Hmph. You’re asking me to do something tricky. I’m the newest one here—mostly just doing menial stuff, so I barely had any knight-to-knight exchanges at all.”

“Not having knight-to-knight coordination… that’s the problem, isn’t it?”

“Yeah, I guess it’s just the usual local hierarchy thing.”

“Then those who brought that nonsense up can be cut out.”

Anyone who’d drag that kind of hassle into the mix probably resents me, one way or another. Can’t have someone like that in the group.

I asked Batis for names, then pulled those people from the roster.

And suddenly, only three remained.

One’s the oldest of them all—practically ancient. But still solidly trained, they say. Still going strong, right in the thick of it.

The other one’s about the same age as Old Man Bodwan—grizzled veteran through and through. Both of them keep their feelings out of it and get the job done clean, on the field.

The last one’s a young lady knight. Fewer years under her belt, sure—but she pulled her weight in yesterday’s fight, no doubt. Typical of upper nobility, I reckon. Though they didn’t say anything about her personality, so who knows.

“Just these three, huh?”

“Mind if I take a look?”

“Yeah.”

Handing over the file to Batis, I sip the tea Ange poured me. Yeah, good.

The tonkatsu from yesterday? Crispy coating, tender meat—perfect.

Of course, Ange herself was delicious too.

“Out of these three, the only one I know is Electria.”

“The lady knight?”

“Yeah. We’ve had a bit of contact, same as upper nobility. And she’s even helped me out a little here.”

Perfect. If we’ve already crossed paths, maybe I can get a feel for her character too.

“What’s Batis like, from your point of view?”

“Hmm… well…”

Batis rubbed his chin, paused a moment, then said:

“Either good or bad—military type, maybe?”

A response that leaves me utterly stumped.

“Serious about everything, dead serious. But that seriousness makes him… clumsy, you know?”

“Clumsy?”

“Can’t compromise. Always chasing perfection. I first saw him at the base, with Elekcia. Morning drills—swinging his sword. He’s on the front lines, so you’d think a squad leader’d ease up a bit, save some strength? But no. He swings till he’s out of breath. That kind of guy.”

“That’s… kind of backwards, isn’t it?”

If you can’t give it your all when the attack comes, after all that training—what’s the point of being a knight? And once you’re squad leader, you’re not even fighting on foot half the time. Some say it’s better to spend your time simulating battles in the cockpit than swinging a sword.

I still think both matter, so I’ve kept the same routine since I was a student. But even I don’t go so far as to collapse from exhaustion.

“That’s why I’m clumsy. Once I start, I can’t stop halfway. You know, Miss Elekcia? She joined the academy because she hated socializing. Her parents figured she’d give up halfway and settle back into noble life, but she took it too seriously—ended up graduating top of her class that year.”

“That’s….”

Yeah, totally serious—kinda clumsy, too. Might be hard to put to use. This rescue mission’s bound to leave someone behind somewhere. If you can’t cut that loose, it’ll drag everyone else down with it.

“Don’t sweat it. Any clue about the other two?”

“Sorry. They’re too high up—never even met ‘em.”

“Huh. Then we’ll hold off for now. Maybe poke around this afternoon, decide by tomorrow.”

“What about morning?”

“Your training.”

“My?!”

I smile, and Batis wrinkles his face, tilting his head.

“Hey… why the hell are we doing this in Abnomyle?”

“Batis hasn’t even powered up one of these rigs before, has he? Once you get Abnomyle moving, things feel different. Better to try it once than regret it later.”

“Yeah… Leon said something like that, too.”

Two Abnomyle units faced each other in the open clearing of the base.

One was, of course, the one I’d borrowed. The other, the second one I’d asked Commander Katz to lend me. And of course, Batis was at the controls.

“Alright then. Rules? No hard contact.”

“Got it. Though, truth be told, I can’t even cast magic in this thing!”

Batis’s unit stirred to life.

I snapped my sword out instantly, aiming straight for his machine. He shifted the rig just slightly sideways, dodging it, then charged straight in.

I crouched the unit low, shoving my shoulder forward to catch his cockpit just right. That way, he couldn’t grab onto my machine.

Batis reacted straight away.

He must’ve seen my move the second I dropped down. Charged in hard, then—instead of meeting me head-on—leapt up and soared right over my head.

I met his blade mid-turn, the moment he landed, sweeping his sword back at me.

Clang—our blades locked, steel against steel.

“See? You’ll get it better once you’re in the combat path.”

“Yeah, I’ll admit—this is kind of a good experience, huh?”

He pulled back from the lock.

My machine swung the blade forward, straight at his, but he dodged it—too easy.

Armunale, I could’ve hit him just now. But this machine—speed and maneuverability, both lackluster.

Same goes for Batis’s machine.

With Armunale, my opening would’ve been a guaranteed hit. But with Abnomule’s maneuverability, it’s just a gap to attack through—nothing more.

Still, I slip past Batis’s machine, untouched, back exposed, yet untouched.

“Alright, next round.”

“Bring it on!”

Now it’s my turn.

I charge forward, swing the blade down at Batis’s machine.

Batis blocks it head-on—then eases off, just slightly.

Blocking and letting go at once—hard to read. I’m caught off guard, my machine tilts.

“Got you.”

“Too bad!”

But I’m not that easy to catch.

My machine lunged forward—then flipped end-over-end, slipping right past Batis’s feet. I snagged one of his arms with my own, and before you could blink, we both went down in a messy tumble.

The base floor cracked open with a thunderous crack, but I didn’t care. It was already full of holes from all the fighting anyway.

“Ow…!”

“Open! Got you!”

I lunged at the fallen machine, still flat on my back, driving my sword forward.

“Don’t count on it!”

But just before the blade could strike, my arm got kicked aside—off course in an instant.

We both scrambled up fast.

“Damn it, still pulling off those damn tricks, huh?”

“Armunale’d let you do something way cooler, you know?”

“Calling yourself a stuntman now?”

“Yeah… might be fun, actually.”

I drew my second sword from my waist, holding one in each hand. Batis mirrored me, drawing his third blade into stance.

“You sure about this? I’m the one who’s good with two blades, you know?”

“Ha. I’ve seen through Eld’s two-sword style ages ago. Don’t go thinking I’m still stuck in the past.”

“Then show me!”

We clashed in rapid succession—two blades, one after the other.

Sword fragments scattered around our machines, glittering in the air like sparks. Amidst the flash, our machines moved at a speed that made the Abnomyle seem sluggish—parrying, probing, swinging, all in a blur.

“Nice form. But—”

I waited for the moment Batis got lost in his own technique, then caught his blade mid-swing and swept his legs out from under him.

Predictably, he fell right in.

“Still can’t see past your own sword, huh?”

I pressed my blade against Batis’s throat and ended it.

“Damn it! Not again!”

“Mm, there’s always the chance you’re just a bit off your game, right?”

“Like hell I’d admit that kind of lame excuse.”

I’ve ridden Abnomyle more than once in battle. In terms of familiarity, I’ve got the edge by far.

But Batis doesn’t seem to count that as an excuse for losing.

“Next time, I’ll win. One more chance.”

“Yeah, I’ll make sure you don’t skip out—got to finish this morning’s match. But first—there you are. No need to skulk in the shadows. Come out.”

I called into the hangar’s dark corner.

From the gloom, a woman stepped forward.

Platinum blonde hair, silvery like Ange’s but cooler, flowing down her back, standing straight, eyes lifting to our machine.

That was the knight I’d just been about to look into—Elexia Cruelroad.

Madam, it’s already December, you know!

How’s everyone doing with their goals for this year? I’m thinking I’ll make it by next year.