As part of our routine, we set up protective arrays as a precaution while waiting for Hyunf to arrive, and this has been our practice for ten days already.
The formation was entirely relaxed.
“It won’t do! This won’t do at all!”
“Saint! Saint! Tech Gobs! They’ve gone crazy and are falling apart!!”
The morale of the troops, who were prepared to die, seemed to have rusted in the honey of peace. Peace is a noble thing, but indulging in it during wartime is poisonous.
“Ah! This is troublesome! Troublesome, Saint! Ahh!!”
The Tech Gobs, despite being near the forest, were either confined to their tents in frustration or exchanging blows among themselves. As for the Sylvanians, they were so busy with their religious dancing, grateful for seeing Selene daily, that I limited my interventions to about once every three days to avoid worsening their impression of me. The knights also seemed to be losing their spirit.
Well, after the fierce battle in the “Valley of Death” and a lot of waiting around, it couldn’t be helped.
“Nozomu! Enough already! Falcon’s shoulder is going to dislocate!!”
“Seriously! It’ll fall apart! Saint! Saint! Aaaah!”
Thus, I kept surprising attacks going to keep everyone on their toes, but it seemed like everyone, whether soldier or civilian, lacked the awareness they were in a war zone.
Is it that they need protocol activation to stay tense on the battlefield without breaking down? After doing virtual reality combat for about two thousand years, I’m barely keeping up, but the sense of alienation I felt during a past joint military exercise has come back to me.
You know, high-tier civilizations, having few friends, often form alliances by providing military support at a low cost. There are several countries that we have such alliances with because of two detachments of starships stationed in the star system and planetary warships on standby …
That’s how we secure trade routes and strategic depth in space instead of sea lanes. Occasionally, the unified army arranges drills, but there seems to be a noticeable difference in morale between them and us when we train together.
Lacking motivation or awareness, they’d crawl out of the trenches next door to propose ration trades before the situation was over or play card games in standby trenches. It’s all so lethargic.
Don’t fighters normally enter a battlefield ready and never yawn?
“Thought I’d die…”
“No injuries! Hang in there, Falken!!”
“No, no, Knight Galatea. The wounds are superficial, but the pain is unbearable!”
Having caught Falken, who embarrassingly yawned loudly during guard duty, I was just practicing hand-to-hand combat with him, but could it be that I’m the odd one out?
No, I assert without hesitation that I’m right.
We’re talking about a presence that can evade drones effortlessly and utilize some inexplicable “magic” that renders detection through electronic sensors exceedingly difficult. There’s no such thing as too cautious.
“Captain, the troops complain we’re wandering about like bears disturbed from hibernation.”
“That’s because everyone’s getting overly relaxed!”
“What do you mean by ‘that’s because’?”
“Like you’re acting less conscientiously these days, right?”
Although she denied changing, as demonstrated by her lounging cross-legged on Peter’s helmet, I couldn’t help but feel she had given up on discipline.
Even if riding others was the safest option and a lesson learned, her attitude was questionable.
“Thanks to your sudden attacks, the Sylvanians now always wear their helmets.”
“Exactly. An officer’s job is to ensure soldiers maintain focus, like a bear disturbed from hibernation.”
“Tech Gobs report that your surprise throws and doodling on their heads are like childish pranks.”
“I’m sure they won’t learn without feeling some resistance or pain. Just now, I threw Falken again…”
“Why are you having fun without me??”
Before I could respond, both Selene and I yelped, and finally, after less than ten seconds, a ruckus arose in the encampment. This is too slow to justify anger.
It’s as if a piece appeared beside the king with no context. They should’ve recognized and prepared for combat much earlier.
Thankfully, it turned out to be Hyunf arriving, but imagine if it were the Tupiarius. What then?
“I was startled…”
“Even though they ignored my waves?”
“Damn, everyone’s too relaxed. It’s because it’s daytime too.”
Wiping away the cold sweat I’d likely have broken out in otherwise, I was glad I hadn’t slashed at Hyunf in the broad daylight. Without the premise of friendliness, I would’ve cut her down instinctively.
“Hyunf, you’ve never visited in the daytime before… What’s with the outfit?”
“Sorry, I may not be around for a while.”
To our surprise, she was clad in battle gear for the first time, with her skin armor painted in black and green for camouflage. Her lips were darkened with black rouge, and she carried a quiver at her waist with what appeared to be an obsidian short knife. On her back was what looked to be a bow constructed entirely from wood and string, though it didn’t seem it could possibly fire projectiles at supersonic speed.
Fully armed. What exactly happened?
“The entire group is moving north. We received orders to relocate that way.”
“Things have been getting chaotic up north.”
“Two days ago, what was it, in binary language… something that burned furiously was thrown into the north, causing quite an uproar.”
“They tried to set the forest on fire!?”
An elf forest is one thing, but attempting to torch this extreme tribal forest—have they gone mad? Frankly, I’d rather handle an army of ten thousand Nosferatu. This is a truly unbelievable act of savagery.
The Tupiari Council, deeply troubled by this, decided to allocate significant combat power, sending warriors northward. So today, she’s come with all limbs intact. Until now, she was always injured every time she visited—frankly, I’m half impressed, half exasperated that she’s come so prepared for potential combat. Things have become quite ominous.
“Because of this, there’s an elder urging Nozomu to negotiate and report troop movements. Trust but keep us informed of their presence while we’re away.”
“Well, we won’t do anything sneaky.”
“Still, it’s like this. I may not be around for a while too.”
Her enthusiasm seemed strangely cheerful. When I asked why, she barked, “Exploring the outside world is fun! But fighting is different!”
“Until now, there have been no attackers, so why is fighting fun?”
“Huh? Tribal skirmishes where we don’t kill each other is normal, right? Like what Nozomu just did?”
Ah, I see… finally understanding.
Watching foreigners perceive our controlled military drills using outdated, decommissioned weapons must feel something like this …
But we’re different because we can replace our bodies endlessly and are configured to never die in these scenarios. Meanwhile, the Tupiarius, despite having limbs replaceable but otherwise mortal, engage in “entertainment” battles without any political, diplomatic, or failed negotiations prompting it—purely for fun. I believe this VR-style combat should be confined to virtual spaces for healthier engagement, old man.
Though I find their tribal practices hard to believe, we bid farewell and wished Hyunf well after her deployment.
“To celebrate Hyunf’s departure, a threefold cheer!!”
“Cheer! Cheer! Cheer!”
“What’s this?”
Even though she didn’t fully grasp it, she tilted her head at the complexity of humans. This ritual is salvaged from some unknown records, but we continue it casually anyway. It’s a tradition to cheer those departing for war from behind the lines.
After exchanging playful banters with Ridelberdy, we returned to the camp, yet concerns about the north lingered.
Even if their equipment appears inferior to standard specifications, I cannot overlook the existence of a race capable of wielding warlike strength engaging in actual warfare. And with Virgil posted in the north, an ominous feeling persists.
As I prepared everyone for departure and welcomed the first night without Hyunf, just as the bright moon approached zenith, I suddenly woke from my perch on the Sashigame seat.
My auditory sensors, on standby duty, had picked up sounds.
Though the distance was great, sounds so faint that a human in the old standards wouldn’t have heard them were unmistakably artillery fire. The Shashigame’s anti-artillery radar was omitted due to factory convenience, but the function to capture and automatically filter sounds alone was still active.
“Selene!!”
“I’ve detected it too. Filtering and emphasizing it now!”
Ch, how far away, it’s from the opposite side of the forest. If the sound carried this far, it must be the main cannon of a “land battleship.” There shouldn’t be any vessels carrying massive 500mm ground-attack cannons here …
Ah, no, wait. Something unpleasant stirred in my memory …
“Captain! Match found! It’s the main cannon sound of the “Aigaion Class Land Battleship!”
“Everyone, get up!!”
I thought so …
When I briefly reviewed the cargo manifest after accessing “Canopy Holy Capital’s” archives, I noted the visitor’s fixation on establishing a permanent base, bringing along a surprising amount of equipment. Among these was the export version of our nation’s “Kusanagi Class” downscaled to “Aigaion Class,” serving as a mobile command center after planetary descent—based on the military standards of two millennia prior where mobile command posts were essential against satellite attacks.
Shit! I thought the vessel had burned up during atmospheric entry within its storage section due to heat, but it appears alive and well. Clearly, information leakage had occurred amidst the heat.
The “Aigaion Class” is defined as a floating fortress, measuring 2.5 kilometers in length and 400 meters wide, classified as ‘medium’ among mobile fortresses capable of internal mini-factory operations. While its functional status may be debatable, given this planet’s peculiarities, I’ll assume it’s intact for calculations. Armed with three sets of 500mm triple heavy ground cannons, thousands of localized air defense stations, and “mobile weapon” operational facilities.
Although weight limitations during planetary descent should have prohibited mobile weapons, it might carry lightweight reconnaissance aircraft with robust direct-support units. Moreover, the “Aigaion” likely has its escort ship, the “Gyges Class” and “Kottos Class” accompanying it.
With such a powerful base, it’s no wonder Virgil is feeling confident, possibly considering that with or without a remaining Canopy Holy Capital, establishing a new Holy Capital wouldn’t be difficult!
“Captain, what should we do? Based on the calculations by this unit, with the escort group intact, the odds of victory are statistically near zero.”
“Judging from the firing distance, it’s likely at maximum range. They mustn’t be near.”
While mobilizing troops, who have just woken in a flurry, I mentally map out the battlefield using actual military experience.
First, that Virgil doesn’t seem particularly war-ready, let alone risking a precious sole ship. The unknown origins of where he acquired it aside, it’s unlikely it would be stationed within attack range in the woods.
Thus, the most probable scenario is for an extracted force from the escort fleet, deploying one or two ships for subjugation.
Their aim… probably Block II B-2 like ours. Without loaded weapons, things would be unsatisfying. At a pivotal moment like controlling the Holy Capital, the myth-replicating mobile weapon would be highly desired.
However, wait a moment. Possessing such firepower, why was there reluctance to act sooner? Surely, leading the fleet boldly into either the “Valley of Death” or “Dragon Mountain Range” to annihilate the Holy Capital’s crisis could have easily made him a living god.
Why was he plotting political theatre, aiming for the position of “Grand Knight Master”? With a land battleship at disposal, such indirect moves seem unnecessary. Were I in his position, upon discovering it functional, I would’ve boldly declared my divine succession while invading the Holy Capital.
Damn, inefficiency, his unpredictable moves are unsettlingly frightening.
“Everyone on board!?”
“Don’t rush them! What’s happened, Clan Leader!?”
“Give me a moment! Loading is still underway!”
“Nozomu! Falke banged his forehead after falling from bed in surprise. Two minutes, please!”
Ah, already! That’s precisely why you shouldn’t let your guard down against peace-induced complacency.
It would be no laughing matter if the Tupiarius forest turns to dust upon arrival …
[Plan Briaareos] Exploration. The high-tier alliance’s “Kusanagi Class Standard Land Battleship” and its escort fleet were designed by the Ecliptic Republican Union to resolve planetary internal disputes, producing three classes of ships in one convenient package.
Although baffling to uninformed high-tier alliance citizens, in their homeland, “non-collapsible land battle command centers” were a must-have. The exorbitant investment ensured their deployment as supreme command centers on various planets.
(Note: This text was updated on 2024/08/30 at around 18:00.)
