4

Guess I didn’t even notice—blew past a hundred chapters.

“System boot complete. Transitioning to operational status. All green. No issues, Ritz.”

“Alright, Captain’s out! Keep your eyes peeled!”

With Ritz’s voice, the hangar locks disengaged.

I stepped the mech forward and exited the hangar.

No enemy attack, not a soul around. The base was as calm as ever.

I’d come out here for one reason—keeping my promise from yesterday, to train with Captain Dennis.

I headed straight for the practice field, where Captain Dennis was already waiting.

From a glance, his mech looked much the same as when we’d last seen it in the capital.

Swords at both hips, shield on the left arm, and another sword strapped to the back of his waist.

Three swords, one shield—still the same setup. Solid as ever.

Well, I can’t say for sure how the magic’s set up—gotta keep an eye on that.

“Sorry to keep you waiting?”

“No, just doing a final check. Perfect timing.”

“Ah, I’ve finished my checks too.”

“Yeah, though the crowd’s grown a bit. Still, let’s give it our all, eh?”

Zoom in on the camera, and you can see silhouettes of people up on the outer wall.

Probably captains from the other squads? Don’t know for sure—haven’t been here long, but their clothes look like it.

“Why the crowd?”

“Most likely came to rile me up. They’re bored, I suppose.”

“Rile you up?”

The words hit my ears, and my eyes narrow just slightly.

I found out right after arriving at the base that Dennis’s captain was being talked about behind his back. Or rather—overheard it.

Right next to Captain Dennis, some of the other captains were muttering—useless, untrustworthy knights, that sort of thing. And whether it was to bring Captain Dennis down or not, they kept heaping praise on me, out of nowhere.

Knight for the princess, hero of Fatal, strongest knight—something like that.

But even if they’re lifting me up like that, I’m not exactly thrilled. I know the captain’s strength. I know what that enemy was like back then.

Honestly, how do you even stop someone who’s already crashed straight into the palace with an Avilabomb?

I’d love to grill them for details—but wasting time on that’d just be pointless. They’re not thinking about anything, anyway.

So I’m gonna show ‘em just how strong the captain really is, right here.

I’ll tell you what kind of thing gets chosen as a guard.

Eld’s machine’s just the same as when it came over here.

"Yeah, mess with it the wrong way and you’ll need a full rewrite from the physics engine—sensboard, I mean."

Since Caline’s back in the capital, all we can do at the base is basic maintenance on the sensboard, handled by the station’s own writer.

So swapping out the current parts for full royal-grade replacements? That’d be a real mess.

Hence why my machine’s still got bits from the Empire tucked in here and there. The maintenance crew in the hangar even say it gives them the creeps. But so what? If it’s lopsided, that’s fine. My old machine had a giant iron pole bolted to its left arm, didn’t it?

Point is—get used to it. Get used to it.

That’s what I’m thinking as I finish the final checks.

No issues with the sword lock. All joints green across the board. Screen switch went smooth as butter.

Left arm’s moving just fine—Caline’s new system’s working smooth as silk. No lag at all.

That means I can push this frame to its full limit now.

“Ready on my end too.”

“Good. Then—”

“Normally.”

‘Battle!’

Our machines step forward at the same time.

Mine, half-manual control, hits top speed from the second step. Denis’s machine catches up, hitting max speed a few steps behind.

We pass each other—just a flash—then strike.

Drawing the blade in one smooth motion, I swing like a katana cut—clashing against his sword, scraping past, then flowing back.

Still moving past—turning direction mid-motion.

Raising the blade high, aiming straight at Denis’s machine, still facing the other way.

He twists his left arm, grips the sword backward, swings it behind his back—catches my downward strike.

“Hm.”

The sword’s momentum stopped—it’s just a thin stick to Armunale.

Captain Denis spins on his heel, swinging his right sword horizontally.

I catch it with the left sword in my hand, reversed just like Captain Denis.

Holding his blade, I swing my right arm at his head.

He drops low—dodges it. Then comes a kick aimed at my right leg.

I step back, dodge, and swing my reverse-hand sword at his leg like a return strike.

Captain Denis flips his body backward, dodges it, and immediately backs away.

“Amazing. You’re moving lighter than before.”

“Not perfect yet, but I’m using half-manual control now. That’s why I’m getting more flexible.”

Used it even back during the first drill—still, Captain Dennis’s getting the hang of half-manual control, just like that. Or maybe he’s already close to perfect.

Just needs tweaking the output based on the situation now. Me? I’ve had plenty of real combat, so I’ve had the chances to practice. Dennis, on the other hand—being in the guard, he probably only ever trained. That’s why his movements are still different from mine now.

“Still, Captain Eld—you’ve gotten stronger. Can’t even compare to how you were before.”

“Not like I spent a year on the battlefield for nothing. And I’ve faced plenty of tough foes.”

Folz, Kansas—countless enemies. Every fight, every clash, every moment of it, it’s made me stronger for sure.

“Huh. Then I guess the warm-up’s done here.”

Captain Dennis brought both swords together by their hilts, gripping them in his right hand. Then he took the sword at his waist in his left, assuming his stance.

Three swords, one shield—swordplay in wild frenzy.

The machine’s magic was channeled entirely into support, unleashing a barrage of attacks near the theoretical maximum speed.

Last time I’d taken that move head-on, I hadn’t blocked it all—right leg, right arm, I think. Something broke.

So this time, I’ll block every single one… and then surpass it.

I flipped the sword in my hand back to normal, settling into my defensive stance.

The overwhelming defensive technique taught by my swordmaster, Rene. Not shown yet. Not shown at all.

“Here I come!”

“Bring it!”

Captain Dennis’s machine surged forward, thrusting his right arm out.

I deflected it with my shield, then lunged into his guard space.

That trick’s a sword dance. If I’m inside its range, he shouldn’t be able to dance anymore.

“Too easy!”

But Captain Dennis—blocking my charge with his shield, his machine twisting under his command—slid around behind me, shoving me off with a shove to the ribs.

“Tch.”

“Footwork’s part of the sword dance, you know.”

And then he spun, slashing with the blade.

I parried, matching his motion, but this isn’t over.

Three swords. One left—there it is.

The final one, coming from behind. On the backside of his right arm.

I judged a shield block too slow, so I dropped low and kicked out.

He leapt sideways to dodge, then landed, trying to crush my foot.

So I aimed right for that moment—shoved my shield forward.

—Mmph.

“Guess that makes sword-dancing kind of pointless if your feet aren’t even touching the ground, huh?”

“Go ahead.”

Denis’s machine, shoved off balance by the shield, landed hard on its feet, legs splayed wide—stuck there for a moment, unable to move.

That’s when I struck.

I flung my sword straight at him.

He barely had time to block it, then lunged back at me with a slash.

But I’ve got more than just a blade.

From behind my waist, I yanked out the harmonica pistol and fired it point-blank at his head.

A few rounds slammed into the dome—paint splattered across the lenses. Head cam’s toast.

“Huh…”

“Not bad, huh? Getting better at this gun thing, don’t you think?”

With the head cam destroyed, his monitor’s range dropped by about thirty percent.

When the chaos hits, the camera’s bound to shake like hell—so having a movable lens is crucial.

Last year, I’d wasted that harmonica pistol right off the bat. But this time? Actually used it.

And I fired the fire lance straight from close range.

Even with the magic shield soaking up some of the power, the sheer proximity still scorched the enemy’s armor raw.

“But—”

Captain Dennis, his machine burning, still pushes forward.

No surprise. His unit’s got only a sword. Always has to charge in to land a hit.

So I read that—then—

“Clay Wall.”

Magic surged up from underfoot, heaving a wall of earth skyward.

Captain Dennis’s machine stumbled on the sudden rise, lost balance, and barreled straight toward me.

Still not falling over despite being caught off-balance—must be the captain’s half-manual controls working just right.

But I can’t use Sword Dance like this.

I draw my sword from the sheath at my left side, stepping forward to meet him head-on, and thrust it straight at his face.

"Not done yet!"

With that shout, his machine crosses its blades in front.

My thrust hits dead center—blocked.

"Serious?!"

The captain shifts the cross a little lower, pinching my blade between both sides like a pair of shears, then twists it upward, redirecting my strike.

Now both cockpits are wide open.

But I can’t attack—no weapon in hand. Yet the captain—

still holding my blade with his left arm, his right arm suddenly tenses, pulling tight.

The blade shot straight for my cockpit.

I deflected it with my shield, caught the attacker’s right arm tight against my side.

“You’re gonna take this one too?”

“Captain Dennis, you’re gonna hurt someone if you don’t cut this out soon.”

I’d just felt real killing intent—brief, sharp, like a blade drawn in the dark.

I said it, still shivering from the cold sweat crawling down my back, and Dennis, I guess he felt it too, nodded along.

“Alright, we’ll call it a day.”

“Honestly, I’d rather not do this again.”

“See you tomorrow, then.”

“You’re not listening at all, are you!?”

Dennis, happy as a child who finally got to fight for real, laughed loud and easy as he headed back to base.

I watched his back fade into the distance, wondering how long I’d be stuck with this kind of training.

I got back to base a little after Dennis, and there they were—knights perched on the outer wall, faces all twisted up like they’d seen a ghost.

Probably just realizing how much of a mess they’d made of Dennis captain’s reputation.

Well then, might as well give them one more shove.

“Hey, what’s wrong?”

They all snapped around at my voice.

“Man, that was something else. Guess full-force fights really do pack a punch, huh?”

“Yeah. Some moves were worth watching. Got me totally hooked.”

“Is that so? Glad I could help a little.”

Hmm. Definitely feeling the gap in skill—just a bit rattled, I’d say.

But still not enough.

"Yeah. Then would you join the training from tomorrow onward? If you can observe the movements, it looks like everyone else can handle the half-manuals too. From what I’ve heard, the knights here are strong enough to match Captain Dennis, no doubt."

That’s right—after all that nonsense they were spouting earlier. They better be able to do it, right? Don’t tell me they’re still useless with the half-manuals and pretending to learn from my moves?

Half-manual control’s been public knowledge for nearly a year now. Any knight serious about getting stronger would’ve trained by now. And if they’re the kind who can talk behind Captain Dennis’s back like that, then they’d *definitely* have picked it up already.

So when I say it like that, the knights’ expressions visibly tighten. Honestly, now—what kind of knight are you, exactly? It’s almost laughable.

If the princess is here, I’d expect a little more dignity from you knights.

“Ah, I’ve got patrol duty starting tomorrow.”

“I’ve got some weapon upgrades lined up, so I’ll pass. New gear’s risky, and I’m not keen on getting hurt.”

And so they keep turning me down, one after another. Always good with excuses when they’re running away.

“Is that right? We’ll be training for a while longer, so feel free to join us anytime. The more skilled knights who show up, the better it is for our drills.”

That’s about all I expect. Just need to drive the point home at the end.

As I pass through the base gate, I mutter under my breath.

“Save the gossip for later. Maybe try some real training for once. A weakling yapping on about nothing just gets on my nerves.”

I wonder if they heard me.

Probably got through. Stiff as a board, staring right at me from up on the gate.

Heh, good for him.

Feeling sharp and clear, I head back to the hangar.

Once the craft’s secured to the rack, the mechanics swarm in and get to work straight away.

I’m stepping down from the cockpit when I call out to Ritz.

“Ritz, you seen Ange around?”

“Ange’s with Eisey. They wrapped up the usual questioning, so she’s getting released now.”

“Oh, already done? That was quick.”

Eisey came with us, but as soon as we arrived, the refugees were split off for questioning—right away.

I’d asked the princess not to give her a hard time, so she’s been treated fair enough, I’d reckon.

She’s been awfully cooperative, isn’t she? Chattering away like a bird. And she’s a refugee, after all—can’t keep her locked up forever, right?

“Ah, I see. Then I’ll go check on her myself.”

She should be in the VIP detention wing at headquarters. If Ange’s already gone to get her, I can just wait in the lobby.

“Sure thing—leave the craft to me. Finally starting to get the hang of command.”

“Looks like you’re becoming quite the real deal.”

“I’d still rather be tinkering under old Orell’s nose, to be honest.”

“Tell him that yourself.”

He’ll probably just grin and punch me in the arm.

I didn’t say it out loud. Just turned and left the hangar.

Armunale Volume 1 is out today—April 25th.

I posted a commemorative SS, so if you’re up for it, please take a look.

Should be able to switch over from the series.