8

A click—finally, all the wires slid back into place.

Finally… done…

The knotwork had gone on long enough—finally done. I reloaded the blade.

Once this is done, we’ll be ready to go again. For now, let’s just keep checking the rest.

That thought just crossed my mind when, mid-checking each item, a loud voice came from beside me.

"Shaa! Frame repaired! Once I’ve checked the systems, we’re going out!"

"Did you just finish fixing that, too?"

You got it. With this, the north’s as good as broken through!

Yeah, that’s right. Alright, this side’s done. Loading’s complete. Eld’s going out! Keep your eyes open, everyone!

"Coming through too! Can't lose to some Eld, now can I!"

Two machines rose up, starting to roll out from the maintenance yard. Just then, a horse galloped in. The rider—seeing us—let out a relieved sigh.

"Thank goodness, I made it."

"A messenger?"

"Yes, the 26th Armunale unit has been ordered to shift from the northern front to the south! After deployment, focus on eliminating enemy forces down there."

Twenty-six—that was Batis’s unit. So Batis’s been reassigned to southern reinforcements, huh.

"Seriously? I get to go south?"

"The north’s deemed secure with current forces."

"Got it. Batis Ovan’s heading south. Just a hit-and-run, right?"

"Yes, that’s fine."

"Yesss! Well then, Eld, I’m off!"

Batis charged out with a flourish.

I told the messenger to relay to the commander that I’d be heading south too, and set off.

The fighting in the south was a mess—pure chaos.

One moment, the main force was holding strong; the next, they were retreating and pressing forward again. But really, there was no proper formation left. Everyone was just focused on crushing whoever was in front of them.

Leon, who should’ve been ahead, was probably lost in all this. Hard to spot someone in this kind of brawl.

Messages from command wouldn’t mean a thing now. So the numbers must be deciding everything. Command’s gotta be sending reinforcements nonstop.

“Huh… where should we go?”

“Both flanks are getting pushed back.”

The center’s still holding, but the enemy’s pressing hard from both sides. If we don’t do something, the center’s gonna get surrounded.

Even in a melee like this, getting flanked’s no good. We should hit the enemy units that’ve stretched out on either side.

"Strong enemy on the flanks! Then I'll take the south. Eld, you take the north."

"What's the plan?"

"I can jump into the fight quicker."

"Ah, distance, huh. Then I'll leave the south to you."

I slapped Batis’s shoulder plate and steered my machine northward.

From behind, a loud whoop—then Batis vanished into the chaos of battle.

◇

Barreling into the melee, Batis unleashed his greatsword’s full might, carving through the Abnomyle forces on the spot.

Explosive magic had been banned—too hard on the joints—but the sheer weight of that greatsword made every swing a deathblow to the Abnomyle.

To the enemy, Batis was a nasty new threat. Soon, the surrounding units pulled back, wary, keeping their distance.

At that moment, a machine surged forward from behind the imperial lines, closing the distance in a flash.

It leapt high, using Abnomyle’s shoulder as a springboard, then landed directly in front of Batis.

“Oho, look who’s got some fight left in ‘em!”

“You’re fun—let’s kill each other, shall we?”

A mercenary riding a pitch-black machine. Fortze.

Batis recognized the machine right away—he’d heard the rumors beforehand.

“Mercenary from Rayla’s lot, huh?”

“Huh. You know Rayla. So we’re contemporaries, then?”

“Yeah.”

“Then this might actually be fun!”

Fortze’s machine accelerated. Charging straight ahead with sword drawn, Fortze launched an attack. Batis swung his greatsword to meet it.

◇

A little after Batis’s interruption, Eld arrived at the southern end.

Right in front of me stood a single Armunale.

Its body, black as ink, held no shield—just a curved blade in one hand. But from elbow to fingertip on its left arm, it wore something like a gauntlet.

“Rayla, isn’t it?”

“Yes.”

“No more words from you.”

“Same here. I’ve got nothing left to say.”

I held my swords in both hands, measuring the distance between my Armunale and Rayla’s.

Rayla’s machine moved forward on tiptoe, left hand outstretched—like a martial arts stance, testing the space between us.

And then—

“Now.”

“Game on.”

We lunged at the same time, charging straight at each other.

It dodged my slash by inches, countering with a flick of its curved blade. I blocked it with my left sword, then thrust my right one toward the cockpit.

But the blade never reached—clutched in the left hand, it fell short.

The hand gripping the sword showed no sign of damage. Probably that gauntlet’s serving as a shield, too.

I pulled the blade back, creating space. Layra didn’t follow.

She measures distance, but never charges in headfirst.

Then—

I deployed Grondia Repesh, launching six swords at once.

How’s she gonna handle that?

Six blades streaked toward Layra’s cockpit in unison.

Layra lowered her hips, thrust her left arm forward.

And caught the first sword—timing it just right—by the hilt.

She let the momentum die, gripped it tight, then knocked down the rest with both blades.

I yanked back the wire of the captured sword, trying to tangle her movement—but Layra didn’t care about the swords. She let go instantly, deflecting the remaining blades backward with the knuckles of her gauntlet.

“That kind of lukewarm attack? Never gonna hit, darling.”

“Hmm, not so sure about that.”

Grondia Repesh was always just a decoy. The real threat’s this one.

The Perfilizzi rifle in her right hand—already locked onto Layra’s frame. And thanks to the deflection, Layra’s machine’s surrounded by a tangle of wires, thick as rope.

No way out now.

Boom—impact. The bullet flies.

Straight for the cockpit. No doubt about it.

Layra raises her curved blade.

Right after, the shot hits—both sides of the machine, then the rear, spearing through like a dagger.

“Did I… cut it?”

“This blade? I had it made to maximize edge sharpness. Thanks to that, I can do things like this. Now, my turn.”

The Rayla unit charges forward, closing the distance in an instant.

I reel in the wire as I stow the Perfilizzi rifle and grip my sword.

Then I catch the descending blade head-on—right after, my own sword snaps in half.

I jump back instinctively, glancing at the broken edge.

It’s cleanly severed—completely split.

“Come on… seriously?”

A curved blade that cuts bullets… and then chops through my sword too? Where the hell did she even get that?

But I’m not out of moves. I know this—swords made for razor-sharp edges? They’re always brittle.

Take a direct hit, and I’d be cut clean through. But if I’m careful with how I block… it’s still manageable.

I draw a new blade from my wing, grip it with both hands, and step toward the Rayla unit.

Their gear’s just one sword and that gauntlet on the left arm. That gauntlet’s got a dozen ways to be trouble, so I’ll keep an eye out. But if that’s all they’ve got, it’s just a matter of pushing through.

“Hah!”

The thrust’s deflected by the gauntlet. Then the curved blade’s blocked by my sword.

A nasty grind—scraping sound—but no cut. Just chipped the surface.

Rayla notices right away, yanks the sword back, and lunges again.

I lock blades, veer off course from the cockpit.

Then I let go of the sword, snatch the Hujā shotgun.

This close-range spread? Can’t block it with just a sword and a gauntlet.

“Tch.”

A tiny click of the tongue. Yeah, this one’s tricky to handle.

No hesitation. I pull the trigger.

The Rayla unit twisted its body like it was fleeing the barrel, rolling across the ground just in time to dodge.

Bullets stabbed into the earth, kicking up a cloud of dust.

Standing up, it swings its blade toward me—aiming straight for the Hujā shotgun. Trying to crush a weapon it can't handle, huh?

But I’m not letting it cut me down that easily.

I deflect the curved blade with my sword, then swing the Hujā shotgun back toward the Rayla unit.

This time, it lunges in even closer—trying to get inside gun range, is it?

That gauntlet of its looks painful enough to crush bones. Should I dodge?

I step back, swinging my sword.

The blade gets caught in the gauntlet.

But I manage to line up the gun just in time—pull the trigger, barely.

BANG—two more pellets fired, slamming into the Rayla unit’s leg at point-blank range. The joint splinters wide.

But the curved blade swings, cleaving the Hujā shot gun in two.

“Gah—”

“Tch—”

The Hujā shot gun’s tossed aside instantly. The sword’s wrenched from the wing like a bird tearing free.

Then, lunging at the Rayla unit, now rooted in place.

The Rayla unit tries to block, but its legs—easy to flank from behind!

A feint with the blade, then I slip past its side, circling behind. It tried to spin—too late. The shin’s torn wide open. Too much damage. It can’t keep up. The balance shudders—crashes down right there.

“Got it!”

“Not yet!”

I drive the sword forward, aiming straight for the Rayla unit. It raises the gauntlet again—blocks the blade.

But the gauntlet—though it braced against the force of the strike—couldn’t hold. The armor cracked apart, splintering open to reveal the inner workings.

I swing the other sword, but Rayla wrenches her blade aside, blocking the attack.

Then comes the curved blade, aimed straight at my feet.

Sharp enough that if it hits, it’ll slice clean through. I leap back instantly, twisting away, putting distance between us.

Rayla straightens her frame in that moment—gets back up.

But her right shin’s wide open now, sparking wildly. Probably can’t even feel it anymore.

“Ugh… you’re just *incredibly* annoying, aren’t you?”

“……”

“If I were as strong as you… no, even then, I’d still be here. Still fighting you. That’s my choice. My final duty.”

“……”

“You’re not gonna say anything, are you?”

I clenched my teeth inside the pilot’s seat.

So much I want to say. I could punch her right in the face, I’m that furious. But it’s past words now. Too far gone. Layra went too far.

That’s why right here!

Settle it.

Come here. Show me Eld’s resolve!

The Layra machine readies itself—Pespilarge speeds up.

My focus’s pushed past the edge—everything’s moving like it’s underwater.

I can feel every shift—the pressure of the step, the angle of the blade, the roll of the shoulder, the whole machine in my bones.

And there she was on the monitor—Laira’s machine, slowly shifting the curved blade, like it was about to counter our attack.

But I’m not stopping here. I’ll crush every last bit of Layla—every single counter, every ounce of her!

"Leiraaaaaaa!!!"

Haaahaaa!!

The blade thrust forward—matched by a full-force counter.

With solid resistance, the sword pierces the Layla unit’s chest, the curved blade slicing through its flank and severing a branch of the Grondia Repesh.

As strength slowly drained from the Layla unit, Layla’s voice came through.

“N37,11,58 E19,36,20”

“What’s with those numbers?”

“The final key to ending the war… it’s right there.”

A strained reply.

“The final key?”

“If you don’t destroy it, the war won’t stop. As long as they’re still around, it won’t end. That princess… she’s too naive. The rest… I’ll leave it to Eld….”

“Not sure I get it… but alright, I’ll take it.”

“Thank you.”

That was the last she said. Her voice faded. The unit’s generator shut down completely.

The Abnomüle around us didn’t stir. Just watched.

“Why…”

Why the hell do I have to hear “thank you” from you?! I’m the one who killed her!

Why do you say “thank you” like you’re some kind of miracle, huh?!

Don’t you dare! Don’t you dare, don’t you dare, don’t you dare!!

Do you even know—do you even know what it felt like when I drove my blade into Layra?!

Where the hell am I supposed to take this rage?!

I gripped the control lever so hard my knuckles cracked, stomped down on the pedal.

The blade swung out—wild, reckless, tearing through the Abnomüle around me.

Next time...

Batis challenges Fortze. And as for Eld, after all that chaos—where will he go now...

You’ve probably got a lot on your mind about Layra, but she’s gone.

The only enemy left is Fortze.