1

Tapping the stack of papers together, I let out a soft sigh.

The tension in the room eased, and Ines turned her gaze straight ahead.

On the other side of the table, the delegates from Belgio were letting out a sigh of relief.

Honestly, I didn’t think we’d get this far in such a short time.

It’s only thanks to your country’s concessions. I’m the one who’s surprised—this goes far beyond what I expected.

Even if it’s Fatal, I reckon this treaty’s important enough to matter.

Two weeks since the battle with Overd. In the capital of Belgio, talks over the treaty with Fatal were reaching their climax.

The meeting—shifting back and forth between what each side could and couldn’t accept, probing for compromises—had been a tightrope walk of tension, wearing down both sides’ nerves. Today, at last, it had wound down to a close.

"So let’s go over the terms one last time. Fatal’s demands are a formal protest against the Overd Empire on behalf of the Kingdom of Belgio, a declaration of full resistance, and the signing of a military alliance with the Kingdom of Fatal. The specifics of the alliance are in the documents we’ve got here."

The alliance has three main points.

First, a mutual non-aggression pact. Second, permission to move armies across each other’s territories. And third, the ability to lend military supplies in emergencies.

The first is a given. The second is so that if Fatal ever plans to attack the Overd Empire in the future, they can get through Belgio quickly, and so that if Belgio is attacked again, we can send troops without all the usual red tape.

And the third is so we can lend each other surplus supplies if we decide to attack Overd as a coalition.

You never know what’ll happen on the battlefield. That’s why spreading supplies around is crucial. If we can do it across borders, the safety net just… jumps up.

As for Belgio’s request, here’s what they’re asking for:

“Expansion of exports to Fatal, technical assistance, sending technicians with the know-how, and military support if our country gets attacked by Overd.”

This alliance hinges most on Belgio’s position.

They don’t have Armunale like Fatal does, but since they’re a target for Overd, they’ll need a proper defense system, no doubt.

And by making it clear they were at odds with Overd, there was a real chance the shipments of minerals they’d been exporting in decent amounts would just stop. That was the point of it all.

Thanks to Eld’s efforts, Belgio had managed to seize an Abnomyle. They’d always had the know-how, so with this machine in hand, they could probably build their own Abnomyle. But there were problems beyond that.

The Abnomyle was huge. So Belgio had no idea how to make the tools for it, nor the storage facilities to keep it, nor the methods to handle the fuel.

That’s where Fatal came in—offering technical know-how and sending over technicians to cover the gaps.

Ines had originally considered providing the whole machine, but getting just the tech and the workers ended up being cheaper instead.

And then there was the military support.

Even if Bergio got their hands on Abnomyle’s tech, it was still just a degraded version of Armunale.

If we end up opposing Overdo, there’s a chance we’ll have to face Armunale itself—and in that case, Abnomyle alone wouldn’t be enough. So we asked for military support from Fatal.

Combined with loosening troop movement restrictions within the military alliance, it was all about getting quick help.

“Not a problem from our side.”

“Nor from ours. Then we’ll let you know as soon as the signing ceremony date is set. Until then, enjoy Bergio. You’ve been locked in meetings nonstop—hardly stepped outside, haven’t you? You look a bit pale.”

“That’s true. My knights have been wandering about these parts, I hear. Maybe it’d be amusing to have them guide us around.”

“I could be your guide, if you like?”

Thank you, but I think it’d be fun to let my knights show us around the spots they find interesting. Deepening understanding with your partner is important, after all.

I see. If you ever need anything, please don’t hesitate to ask. I’ll do my best to help.

I appreciate that.

Standing up, we firmly shake hands across the table.

Not much time left until the signing ceremony. Fatal’s side has Ines handling all the authority, and Belgio’s king is checking in with each meeting personally. Neither side plans to change anything now that everything’s been hammered out.

For once, Ines—always working nonstop lately—finally gets a little break.

◇

South of Belgio. Beyond the Overd Empire, even farther south, lies a vast desert.

The Ihabit Desert painted the land like a peninsula, all white from end to end.

No one lives here. Just a few scattered natives, quiet as dust, eking out life in this merciless place.

Rich in underground resources, they say—but days scorch past fifty degrees, nights freeze down below zero. Too harsh to develop. Too harsh to live.

And yet, there, on that white expanse, two giants walked slowly, one after the other.

Following behind, a few carriages rolled on, their backsides filled with men wrapped head to toe in cloth, half asleep, half dead.

They stared from the back of the carriages at one fixed point.

The sea.

The Ihabit Desert swallowed the whole peninsula, of course—so it bordered the sea, too. Travelers here read the coastlines like maps, and the stars above, to know where they stood.

But they weren’t staring at the sea just to figure out where they were.

There was only one reason.

“Having all this water and still not being able to drink it? That’s just cruel, ain’t it?”

In the scorching hell, the sheer amount of water made their throats ache with the urge to swallow.

But it was saltwater. No one could drink it. Someone sighed.

Eld, their captain, let out a wry chuckle at the sight.

“Not much farther now. Once we get there, you’ll be able to drink till you’re sick.”

“Seriously, why’d they build this place in such a hassle? Even if no one comes here, it’s the worst possible spot for convenience.”

“Can’t be helped. It’s too important a place.”

The place they were heading. It was said to be the heart of Du Librepur.

Du Librepur had no clear organization. Anyone could claim to be part of it—just declare your allegiance and follow the rules.

But there was something that might pass for a headquarters, too.

"Paydimer, was it? A nation of mercenaries…"

Laira leaned in from her seat beside the driver, peering into the carriage.

Elishard nodded once.

"Yeah, that’s right. A bunch of mercenaries gathered up and built their own little country—though really, it’s just a town. They pool their spoils, trade them, keep themselves ready for the next fight. And—"

"a town with a Hyimagia Liquid refinery."

The thing that made Du Librepur truly Du Librepur. A trump card that lets them stand eye to eye with empires. A country that once seized power by accident after losing their own—something Paydimer actually has.

Only mercenary companies within Du Libepru that hold an Armunale can know of the Paydimer. And the information on Paydimer is kept under the tightest secrecy. You understand what it means to be brought there, don’t you?

I think they actually believe in me now.

Laira had never heard of the mercenary nation of Paydimer before coming to this desert. She knew such a place existed, but no one would tell her where it was.

I found out. In a way, that was the moment Layla was recognized as a proper member of the Elshard Mercenary Company.

Attack on Fatal’s capital. Seizure of the generator. All our past victories, together—we’ve decided to trust you. That’s why we’re heading to Paydimer, to repair your机体.

Yeah

Don’t you dare betray me, now?

Even if you betray me, there’s nowhere else for me to go.

My home’s already burned down. I’ve fought my own comrades to the death. Killed more knights than I can count. There’s no place left for me to go back to—Rayla. The only way I can live now is to hold this ground. I know that better than anyone.

“My place right now… is here.”

“Then that’s good.”

Rayla’s eyes, fixed on the horizon, were clouded over—like sand in the wind.

Spent a full day in the desert, another half. Finally, the mercenary group reached their destination.

It was a desert coastline. A small island sat out in the distance—just that.

“Are you sure this is it? Feels like nothing’s here.”

Rayla stepped down from the dunes, scanning the horizon. All she saw was sea and sand. A few trees on the distant island, but no way this was a town.

Just as she stood there, her gaze fixed on nothing, a voice came from above.

“Something interesting to see. Come on over here—you’ll want to see this.”

I looked up and saw Rizet leaning out from the cockpit, waving at Layra.

Layra floated upward with magic and climbed onto Armunale’s shoulder. Rizet joined her there.

“What’s going on?”

“Twice a day. Weird stuff happens here. Look—there it is.”

Rizet jerked her chin toward the shore. Layra saw it too—the tide had receded, exposing the sand, stretching all the way out to the island.

“The island’s connected by the low tide…”

“Then let’s go. I’ll lead, right, Captain?”

“Yeah, you’ve got it. Forzé, stay behind.”

“Haii…”

A lazy reply. Forzé’s machine drifted back. Rizet slid back into the cockpit and guided the craft forward.

Halfway down the path, Layra noticed it—the road was paved.

“Paved stones… why go to all this trouble here?”

“Can’t get a carriage through otherwise. Mud’d swallow the wheels whole.”

“Huh. Makes sense.”

“Look, there it is.”

As we drew closer to the island, a figure waving a flag came into view.

Rizet raised the machine’s hand and shaped her fingers into a dog’s form. That was the signal. Part of the island slid open, revealing a cave.

“Whoa… a place like this?”

“Inside’s just a simple cave. Beyond that’s the mercenary town. The whole island’s been turned into a town. They say the founding crew dug it out bit by bit, little by little.”

“Unbelievable.”

The cave sloped gently upward, and light glowed from deep within.

The mercenary group moved forward into the glow—and stepped into the town.

Calling it a town’s a stretch—just a cluster of little wooden huts, really. But scattered around it, like something ripped from the sky, were parts of machines, scattered all over. And deeper in, a building stood out, built different from the rest.

“I’m heading to the refining facility. You two, secure the hangar and a place to sleep. What about you, Rizet?”

“I’m going with you. Leave the crew to you. But if you try anything forceful, I’m not backing down.”

“Got it. Watch yourselves.”

‘Uuuu.’

A tired reply, and the mercenaries split off, each going their own way.

“Laira, come with me. Forzé, you take the hangar.”

“Got it. You should come by later, Laira. You’ve got your own machine to fix, after all.”

“Yeah, I will. That’s okay, right?”

"Yeah, this is a mercenary town. You’ll probably find parts you like if you look around. Go ahead and pick what you want."

"Thanks. Hey, Folz, you’ll show me around the town later, okay? It’d be a big help if Rizet would pitch in too."

"Can’t be helped. Just this kid’s not enough to keep me calm, you know?"

"Heh, you said it."

Folz laughs it off easily, then heads toward the hangar with Rizet by her side.

Watching them go, Layra and the others resume their carriage.

In a town this small, the refinery—once just a distant blur—arrives sooner than expected.

The building, like the hangar, is reinforced with metal frames, standing out like a research facility, unmistakably important.

After Eld, I stepped inside—and there it was, a scene like some back-alley tavern. Wooden floor, chairs and tables scattered about, mercenaries sipping ale like it was water.

To the side, there was a counter, and beyond it, a woman in an ornate dress was wiping a glass.

The woman glanced at Eld for a moment, then let her gaze fall to her glass and murmured.

“Oh, who’s this? Haven’t seen a face like that in ages.”

Been in the Empire lately. But things’ve shifted a bit. For a while, I’ll be counting on you, Master.

Do whatever you like. As long as you follow the rules, I won’t stop you, won’t turn you away. That’s how it is here.

That’s right. Yeah, I’ll introduce her. This is Layla—new here, just joined us.

Eld stepped toward the counter, shoving Rayla’s back forward toward the master.

The master turned his gaze toward Layla.

“Hear rumors, I have. Nice to meet you, Princess of Betrayal. I’m the one in charge here.”

“Nice to meet you. How should I address you, then?”

“Call me Master. That’ll do.”

“Understood.”

“We don’t forgive betrayal. You know that, right?”

“Yes.”

“Good.”

With that, the master turned his eyes back to the glass, as if the conversation were over.

Layla, having no real desire to keep talking, turned her gaze toward Elshard.

“Quiet for a talk between women, isn’t it? Well, never mind. Master, I’ll need three units prepared this time.”

“Three? …Ah, the pleasure ones. Got it.”

“You knew about that too?”

“Of course. I’m the one in charge here.”

The overseer of the refinement facility. Same rank as the one who manages all the mercenaries using Armunale. So information comes in from everywhere, and with that power, you can give out orders—some, anyway.

But she never gives orders, not according to Du Librep’s rules. Just a business relationship. A mutual aid group, nothing more.

“Looks like you’ve picked quite the troublesome opponent.”

“One-armed, that guy’s calling himself ‘Swordfeather’ these days. But he’s been getting in our way too much. Time he kicked the bucket. Though, according to Folz and Rayla, this current frame’s not enough.”

“Eld’s frame’s powerful. Built specifically to push his specs to the limit. If you’re aiming to beat that, you’ll need a frame that matches, don’t you think?”

From what I’ve heard, he’s quite the menace. Well, if that’s the case, we’ll be happy to lend a hand. Plenty’ve bitten the dust to that sword feather of his. Even the Duke of Librepour’s getting on my nerves. I’ll pass the word along to the shops—should get us a decent discount, at least.

“Appreciate it.”

“Mutual support, that’s the way.”

“Rayla, let’s go.”

“Mm-hmm.”

With that, Eldshard turned and left the refining facility with Rayla by his side.

Next time preview

A new model is being built. Its test run will target a small nation raising its voice against Overdo, just like Berjio did.