7

The strategy meeting ended, and I was heading for the hangar. Ange and I had walked together up to a point, then split—she was going to help prepare dinner.

The whole squad’ll probably pull an all-nighter tonight, so I’d better make sure they at least eat something proper.

When I arrived at the hangar, sure enough, the mechanics were bustling about.

My machine wasn’t taken apart, but cables snaked out from every joint, and the armor was being replaced.

Right now, they were just swapping out the chest plate, exposing the generator and cockpit in all their raw glory.

I love staring at a machine perfectly tuned and polished—but there’s something fun about seeing it all laid bare like this too.

It reminds you, plain as day, that you’re riding inside a giant humanoid robot.

“Hey, Captain. What’s up?”

“Orell, how’s the frame holding up? Don’t think it’s taken too bad a beating.”

“Hmph. Not much distortion, and swapping out armor should fix it fine. Though… why wasn’t Perfilizzi in the Artificogius? What happened to that?”

Right—completely forgot to mention it to Orell.

“Sorry, I forgot to say. Perfilizzi got destroyed during combat.”

“Hmph. That thing didn’t have a spare. Even if we ordered a replacement now, it’d take a month.”

Just like Orell said—custom-built weapon, no backups, no production line. Even if we ordered one, we’d have to start from scratch making parts. Takes forever.

Besides, it was meant for sniping. Never figured it’d get wrecked—nobody’d ever get close enough to use it in the first place.

Got it. So stick a sword in the Artifigojue, will ya. You’ve got extra slots for blades, right?

Unlike with Perfilizzi, I brought a few scabbards along. Just slot one into Perfilizzi’s slot—should add two more blades, easy.

Won’t need that many in practice, but if it boosts the power of Totarite Epiliration even a smidge, better than nothing.

“Hmm, got it. Then I’ll have to ask Carine to adjust the physical calculator—senseboard, right?”

“Ah, I’ll tell her. Got something else I wanna ask, too. Still in the cockpit?”

“Yeah, probably holed up in there.”

“Understood.”

No sense climbing all the way up the stairs. I’ll just cast a quick spell and rocket up Armunale in one go.

I peeked into the cockpit from the ladder, and there was Karine, all serious, face-to-face with the monitor. A flood of data scrolled up from the bottom, like a river of numbers.

Looks like she’s feeding the physics processor—sensboard—its own data. Never really paid close attention to the sensboard’s adjustments before, but now I see she’s reading the raw feed straight from it, fine-tuning everything on the fly.

“Eld’s reaction speed’s fast, but he’s overheating sometimes. Gotta trim down more of the redundant bits. And there’s a lag in the arm-switching sequence. Could be a circuit delay? Still, the control’s… wild.”

“Sorry about that.”

“Eep!? Huh—!”

Karine yelped, startled, and slammed her face right into the screen.

“H-hey, Captain! If you’re here, at least say something, y’know!”

“Was busy, that’s all. Didn’t want to interrupt, figured it’d be rude. What’s this data, anyway?”

I slid into the pilot’s seat, eyes tracking the text scrolling across the screen.

Arrows—up, down—and numbers, letters, one after another, neatly lined up. Honestly, staring at this? No clue what it even means.

“This is the control log. What you typed, just spitting it out straight. See? Forward motion, adjusting output, pressing in, adding force to the hips, pushing the right arm out.”

“So this is the thrust attack?”

Now that she says it… yeah, I *do* remember doing that. But only because I *did* it myself. Just looking at someone else’s input? No way I’d figure out what kind of move that is.

"Watch this while cross-checking with the unit's status—figure out what’s going on inside the machine. Can’t do that? Then you’re not a proper physics processor (senseboard) writer yet."

"Damn impressive."

"Ha, well, naturally. Being a physics processor (senseboard) writer’s a tough gig—second only to piloting."

Karine puffs her chest, nose twitching proudly. Though her nose is still red from smacking it against the screen earlier. Tsk. Not quite back to normal…

"Then I’ve got a favor to ask of you, the mighty Karine."

"What?"

"Can you have that thing installed before the next sortie?"

"...You’re serious? Throwing it into combat without a test shot? That’s reckless."

I freeze, meeting her serious eyes straight on.

"Yeah, I figured we’d need that spell for this mission. System-wise, it’s fine, right?"

"System-wise, maybe. But there’s still all sorts of physical issues. Mostly fuel. Even now, one shot’ll drain this thing dry. What’re you planning after that?"

"Keep the resupply team on standby. If we fire from behind, we can stretch the refuel time."

"Absolutely mad."

"Still, it’s the least damage we can manage."

…ah, fine. I get it."

Karine finally gave in, letting out a sigh and wiping the data from the monitor before standing up from the pilot’s seat.

"Need to input today’s data and recalibrate. It’ll take a bit."

"Please have it done by morning."

"Seriously, our captain’s always pushing the limits."

Carine patted my head with the documents she was holding, leaned forward from the pilot’s seat, and called out to one of the nearby mechanics.

Hey, could you grab the A3 physics processor—sensboard—from the secondary warehouse for me?

It’s fine. Second Warehouse, A3, right?

Yeah, should’ve come with three senseboards, that’s how it goes.

Understood.

Thanks

Carline blew a kiss at the mechanic who’d agreed so cheerfully.

Yeah, kinda feels like she’s got a handle on this, Miss Caline. Might be more of an idol type than I thought. All kinds of traits packed in, looks pretty cute, and—surprise—she’d probably be popular with the boys.

Lost in thought like that, watching the back of Miss Carine, she turns around—catches me staring.

What’s wrong?

No, nothing at all.

“S-so, Captain, you should get back to your room and rest up. You’re pretty worn out from today’s fight, aren’t you?”

“Mm, that’s true. But before that…”

I smile, watching the silhouette on the monitor.

“Hey everyone! I brought food—let’s take a break right here and eat. Gotta keep your strength up, or we won’t make it through!”

‘Uuuh…’

Ange comes in with a pot full of stew, stepping into the storage bay.

“First things first—food.”

“Why not just eat in your room?”

“Eating here, with everyone… it’s nice. Come on, let’s go.”

“Ah, wait—”

I push Karine out of the pilot’s seat and onto the ramp, then head down toward Ange, who’s handing out the food.

The next day, the hangar was already buzzing from morning on—though really, it’d been that way since last night.

Almost all the mechanics had been up all night tweaking the airframes.

Thanks to that, the armor had been swapped out for new, and the slot upgrades inside the Artificious had been completed.

And most importantly, the physical processor—(the senseboard)—was—

“Done….”

I peeked nervously into the cockpit, and there she was: Karine, slumped in the seat like she’d been drained of every last bit of spirit. Her mouth looked hollow, like her soul had slipped out.

“O-oh… you’re done?”

“Mm. Finished it proper, Captain. You’d better thank me.”

“Yeah, yeah—I’ll buy you a round next time.”

“Anyway, I’m hitting the hay now, so don’t go making a racket around the base. Getting blown up right near the compound? Not my idea of a good time.”

“Understood. I’ll push straight through the plains and take down their base.”

“Please do.”

I step off the ramp, dodge a quick high-five from Caline, and hand over the reins.

As I climb in, the system flashes up on the screen—new magic registered, clean and tight. A few new buttons appear in the cockpit.

“This is… strategic magic, Alumirulei…”

The spell I just requested was a strategic-class weapon—a mass-destruction spell with devastating power.

The setup’s dead simple. Summon parabolic mirrors with magic, shape the distortions that form when magic concentrates into convex lens patterns—spread a whole bunch of them around the craft’s hull. Use the processor at full tilt to calculate light refraction, focus it all onto a single spot.

Well, basically, it’s a solar system.

In my last life, physical limits kept it from being much of a weapon—just sci-fi fantasy, really. But now, magic gives it a boost.

Weather’s a big factor, but the firepower? Already confirmed. Scary.

Magic-wise, it’s just spreading things around the hull—no huge drain. But the calculations the physical processor (senseboard) has to do to pinpoint the focus? Impossible. That’s where all the magic gets burned up.

So it ended up being a weapon that could only fire once or twice at most.

At first, the plan was to unfold the lens above enemy bases or towns and burn everything to ash in one go—purely a weapon of last resort. That’s why we called it strategic magic. But given Armunale’s limits, it’s really more tactical magic now.

“Honestly, the best thing would be not using it at all.”

I’d rather not have to use it, if I could help it. It’s not just that it’s a weapon of indiscriminate mass slaughter—more than that, if this tech fell into the Empire’s hands, we’d end up in a worst-case scenario of mutual destruction, shooting at each other like fools.

It’d be like nuclear war.

So we can’t, under any circumstances, let this machine—or this magic—get into their hands.

That’s why—

“Hey, captain’s here, then?”

“Orell.”

I was staring at one of the new buttons I’d just added when Orell showed up at the pilot’s seat.

“Did as you asked—worked with Miss Caline to build in the self-destruct, but really, is this thing even needed? I’d rather not be fiddling with a death trap for the pilot, if you ask me.”

“It’s absolutely necessary. If my machine ever falls into enemy hands, the damage could be catastrophic.”

The button I’d been looking at was the self-destruct one.

Simple in principle—detonate the concentrated magical liquid (Hyimagia Liquid) in the pipes circling the generator.

Blow the whole thing—generator, physical processor (Sense Board), everything—into dust. No trace left.

“Still, I don’t plan to use it. I want to live a long time with Ange, you know.”

This second chance at life—I’m not about to blow it all to dust.

Even if I do blow up, I’m staying alive. And I’ll say that famous line right in their faces!

“Of course. Wrap it up quick and get back here.”

“Yeah.”

Orell steps away from the ramp. At the same moment, the clock hands shift—thirty minutes before launch.

Sirens wail through the base. People move faster, sharper.

“Ready to launch. Eld, go!”

I switch the unit to startup mode. Step forward.

Changed the physics processor—sensboard—yet nothing feels off.

That’s it. I’m certain now. I step out beneath the clear blue sky, toward the base’s gate.

There, the machines gather—slowly, one by one.

This sortie’s got the first through fourth Abnomyle squads, plus seven Armunale units that can actually move right now. One per squad, another for Jade’s command unit—her personal guard—and then me and Batis, paired up like always.

“Batis, count on me today.”

“Huh. Getting asked to help by Eld? Feels good, actually! Just remember—you’re riding the big ship now, so go ahead and let that magic fly!”

“Will do.”

Soon enough, all the squads had gathered outside the base.

The fifth squad’s leftover members waved the kingdom’s flag from atop the outer wall.

And among them—there she was, the princess, and the base commander too.

"From this moment, we begin the campaign to retake Camentria! This will likely be our fiercest battle yet! But we will triumph—every inch of stolen land will be ours again! No more words! I believe in your victory, and I pray for it, right here at this base! Prosperity and glory to the Fatal Kingdom!"

"Prosperity and glory!"

"Long live the Fatal Kingdom!"

"Long live Lady Ines!"

"Full deployment! Target: Camentria!"

Under Jade's command, the Abnomyle Unit moved forward. We—me and Batis—followed from the rear, inching our machines into position.

Hurts like hell, doesn’t it?

Solar System’s a romance.

You might want to argue with logic, but hey—just chalk it up to magic. It’s fantasy, after all.