4

"Hey, we're about to arrive, you know."

That slightly nostalgic phrase jolts me awake.

"Good morning. You're sounding like a magitech train attendant."

"Haha, yeah, I kind of envy those crew members. Rumor is they're way too popular—crazy high competition, apparently."

"Still, I think the pilot of this thing—this career bomb—has even higher odds."

"True enough. Ten minutes to go. Start preparing for descent."

"Copy."

Switching the craft from standby to maneuver mode. Engaging all systems.

Sensboard link confirmed. Monitor's good. Fuel circulation and consumption normal.

Map display.

Ten minutes—so this area, then.

I check the general position, then work the stiffness out of my body.

"Just gonna crack the cockpit hatch a bit."

—Go ahead.

I crack the cockpit hatch open, and cold air rushes in—colder than I’d imagined.

Forgot all about the altitude… not unbearable, but still high enough to make breathing a little tight.

“Awake now?”

The pilot’s voice had a faint smirk. Knew I was drowsy and let me off easy, huh?

“Seemed half-asleep.”

“Ah, feeling clearer now.”

“Then, since you’re clear, counting starts five minutes back. Tanks will drop simultaneously—watch for the debris.”

“Copy.”

I pull up the map again, double-check the drop zone.

“Five minutes out. Hatch release.”

The carrier bomb’s hatch swings open—ground rushing by at dizzying speed.

Just desert. All sand, no landmarks. Anywhere would be soft on the legs. Just gotta remember not to vanish into it completely.

“One minute out.”

Well then, Pespilarge—time to go.

Five, four, three, two, one, lock released!

Pespilarge out!

The locks holding the frame are undone—my machine hurls skyward.

The ground rushes up fast. The monitor shows sea and islands floating upon it.

“Tank position…”

The tank, under watch, is falling from a spot slightly away from Pespilarge. No risk of getting dragged in, then.

“Parachute deploy.”

I open the chute from the gear on my back, slow the fall a little. But even with that, this machine—loaded with Artificioge—won’t be tamed by a parachute.

Still, I’m slowing—just barely—as Pespilarge plummets straight down.

Which means… this is where I show what I’m made of!

“Parachute release—three, two, one, now!”

Right before hitting the ground, I cut loose the chute and dive straight into the sand.

Sliding across the desert like a stone, my machine braked with the artifigoj and spread the impact by slamming every part of me into the sand.

The pressure on my own body’s insane. Feels like my lungs are getting squashed.

“Ugh.”

I fight to keep my hands on the control stick, clutching it like it’s my last lifeline, shove it forward, press down on the pedals.

The machine lifts from its slide, settles low to the ground, and comes to a stop across the desert.

Right after, a thud—some tank crashes nearby, and my parachute folds over it like a blanket.

“Landed successfully.”

I look up at the sky where I came from—already, the carrier bomb is just a faint speck in the distant sky.

◇

“What in the name of the sky is going on! Where’s the report from the surveillance team!?”

A sudden alarm blares through the underground base of Du Librepal, throwing everyone into chaos.

The woman known as Master, head of the refining facility, was shouting orders at her subordinates.

"Got intel! Armunale spotted near the island—on the far side! Also confirmed a flying object resembling an Avila bomb. Checking which one it is right now!"

"Enemy... someone’s leaked our location, looks like. Which units can we move here?"

"Six mercenaries. Two are ready now. The others need fuel—still waiting on delivery."

"Get the operable ones out immediately. And hand over fuel to the rest. Shut down the refining facility! Recover the core and prepare to evacuate!"

"Abandoning this place!?!"

"Already compromised. Holding on’s pointless! Better to run with the Armunale—safer. Move fast!"

"Got it!"

After finishing her orders to each crew member, Master turned and headed toward the back of the shop.

Open the thick iron door at the end of the corridor. Beyond it lay the control center of the refining facility.

"Transmit to all personnel. Emergency shutdown of the refining facility—Class C2 emergency. Initiate core rapid cooling!"

『Understood.』

"How long?"

"Ten minutes to complete cooling. We're preparing the transport boats simultaneously—evacuation possible within fifteen."

"Then we can manage. Might be fun to remind them they came alone—but escape comes first."

"Forward unit has reached the elevator shaft. Exiting shortly."

"Coming in alone? Either extremely confident or utterly reckless. Either way, we'll crush them by numbers—"

The words never finished. A massive tremor surged through the entire base.

Master clung to the nearby railing, barely able to stand.

The base’s magical power supply cut out, and the interior plunged into darkness.

“What’s going on!?”

“I don’t know. Full system failure. Magical supply’s been severed. This—this can’t be… the base’s under attack!?”

“Nonsense! The enemy’s still outside! How could they—”

Right then, before Master’s eyes, a colossal pillar of light appeared—thick as a great tree, tearing through everything around it in an instant.

◇

“Well then.”

My descent must’ve already been spotted by the D’Rebelpur lot.

The stealth team estimated it’d take five minutes to get from inside the base to the island’s outer edge. And even with the tide still high, Armunale wouldn’t be easy to cross by sea.

Seven minutes, tops. Plenty of time to wreck the refining facility and pull out.

“The feel of the desert’s strange… like nothing I’ve known before.”

Being stuck in sand feels different from walking on snow.

Snow either sinks under you if it’s deep, or slides sideways if it’s light. But the desert floor just… keeps slanting off into nowhere.

It’s not just that you can’t plant your feet—what really worries me is how my legs feel like they’re splitting apart. One wrong step and I’ll be dead before I even notice.

Keeping my balance, I yank the parachute off a fallen tank.

Stretch a tube from the aircraft to the connection point on the tank’s outer shell.

Check the monitor—lock confirmed. Start fuel circulation.

“No anomalies in the equipment.”

No issues with fuel supply or transfer.

Then let’s get to work.

The target island—yeah, that one.

Birds take flight from the tiny isle. From the forest’s edge, hatches burst open in a hurry.

“Aluminum Ray Mobility. Target registered.”

I aim the Artifigojue at the lone island, setting the standard on the screen.

At the same time, the startup calculator—(sense board)—begins its calculations automatically, crunching the sun’s position, the angle of light.

Numbers scroll across the monitor. Back then, I had to type them in myself, but now I just watch, and it’s a relief.

About a minute passes. The calculation finishes. The mirror and lens positions for the standard are locked in.

The startup calculator inside the Artifigojue is already overheating from the load.

The cooling fins spin at full speed, blasting wind through the interior.

“Concentrated Mana Liquid (Hyimagia Liquid) supply normal. Quantity reached standard value.”

Pumping concentrated Mana Liquid (Hyimagia Liquid) from the tank, feeding it into the system. Firing will consume even more than what we’ve used before. So, I’ve topped off the reserves to the minimum threshold, and now I’m taking my time filling the unit’s tank completely.

“Launch prep, all green. Alumirulei launch!”

With the trigger, a countless number of lenses rise into the sky, encircling the isolated island like a halo of sunlight.

Light bends through the lenses—then gathers, reflected by mirrors appearing beneath, into a single beam slicing across the heavens. It looks like a floating magic circle, suspended in midair.

And then— the final mirror angles itself, sending the beam straight down the target.

No sound. Just silence. The ground melts away.

The trees growing on the isolated island burst into flames. The ground, melted like lava, oozed across the surface and poured into the sea, blasting up a thick plume of steam.

And still, the pillar of light didn’t stop. It slowly, steadily, shifted its angle.

Like a cake being sliced by a thread, the island was being cleaved in two by the beam of light.

Nothing like the crude, makeshift Alumiru Ray I’d used before. This was destruction on another scale entirely.

“This… this shouldn’t be unleashed.”

I stared, wide-eyed, at the true power of the Alumiru Ray—something I’d helped design, yet now filled me with dread.

If this hit a city full of ordinary people… the damage would be beyond anything we’d seen.

It’d be war. One side or the other would be wiped out.

Then— an alarm blared in the cockpit.

The heat from the startup processor—sensboard—was climbing toward its melting point.

At the same time, a massive tremor rose from deep beneath the ground, and a moment later, a dull boom echoed through the air.

"Hit it?"

But Alumirurei didn’t stop. The beam of light, swinging like a pendulum, cut back and forth across the island again and again, slicing it apart with merciless precision.

The explosions kept ringing out, growing louder, until just before the beam cut off, one final, thunderous blast shook the sky.

Then came the geyser of fire rising from the severed wreckage.

Pure hell on earth.

The flames spread slowly, engulfing the whole island, blasting the surface clean, bursting the island apart from within.

Must’ve caught fire—those concentrated magic liquids we’d refined. Hyimagia Liquid.

"Beam emission complete. Rapid cooling initiated. Refueling concentrated magic liquid (Hyimagia Liquid) starting."

The hatches mounted on the Artifigojue suddenly swung open, and white smoke burst forth from the heated activation processor (Sense Board).

Refueling the consumed concentrated magic liquid (Hyimagia Liquid) from the tank—emptying the tank, preparing for movement.

"Mercenaries who escaped—"

Checking the monitor, scanning the area where the entrance had been.

Timing-wise, they should’ve been able to get out.

"Here."

The monitor showed two Armunale. Hurrying across the sea, like they’d panicked.

Coming this way? Then we’ll have to fight. If not, we were told to let them go.

Would’ve been nice if they’d just run. Honestly, I don’t wanna fight after shooting Armunale. Don’t know what the activation calc-board’s doing, not even a little.

Enemy craft—ran off.

Didn’t even glance this way. Just straight ahead, clearing the island fast.

“Phew…”

Watching both of their backs on the monitor, I exhaled.

Yeah. That’s fine. Let them run. Spread the word about the refinery being wrecked.

The faster the news gets out, the fewer mercenaries’ll gather at the Empire’s door. That’s the whole point of the plan.

“Alright, keep watch a bit longer before we move.”

Gotta check how survivors’d act. Island’s blown to bits—don’t expect anyone left. But if they’re riding Armunale… well, you never know.

I stayed put for twenty minutes, keeping an eye on the island.

No one else escaped besides the first two. The facility for refining concentrated magical liquid—Hyimagia Liquid—was completely destroyed. With that result, I headed toward the rendezvous point.

Next time…

Eld finished the beam, boarded the ship at the rendezvous, and returned to base.

And a report reached the empire. Enough to push them toward a decision.