86—Eighty-Six
* * *
“…By the way…”
With his eyes still turned to the darkened train window despite not really looking at it, Shin tensed up when he heard Raiden’s voice.
“Did you have a fight with Lena or something?”
He’d already lost the moment he’d looked back at him reflexively. Raiden leaned his elbow against the window and pressed his cheek against his fist as Shin raised an eyebrow.
“…How?”
“Whaddaya mean, how…? You were trying to hide it? Hell, man, you really have no self-awareness whatsoever, do you?”
Hearing Raiden’s incredulous voice was surprisingly irritating. Shin sighed, breaking the inadvertent glare he’d shot into Raiden’s reddish-brown eyes, and shifted his gaze back to the blackened window.
“…I don’t think it was really much of a fight.”
Shin couldn’t call it a fight, given his all-too-vast experience with fights to the death and the terribly hateful treatment those descended from the Empire’s bloodlines sometimes received. Compared to that, a simple difference in opinions didn’t even register as a dispute.
Or rather, it shouldn’t have, but…
“She said we…the Eighty-Six, are still trapped in the Eighty-Sixth Sector.”
Raiden fell into a momentary silence.
“…Did she, now?”
He squinted but suppressed whatever emotion made him do so, probably because Lena was the one who’d said it. And she certainly hadn’t said it out of spite. But they still annoyed him, which was an emotion Shin knew all too well.
“That makes me…so sad.”
The moment he’d heard those words, something had instinctively
spurred him to recoil. But what had sprung up alongside that emotion was confusion and just the slightest tinge of pain. His not being able to understand what Lena was so apprehensive about was part of it, of course, but what confused him the most was that he didn’t understand why he felt the need to argue.
Was it because if he did, he could continue believing people were despicable…? Was it so he wouldn’t give up on this world, cold and cruel as it was?
But that’s
exactly
the way things were.
That was just how the world worked. It didn’t revolve around humankind; it was indifferent and cold—and helplessly so. And that applied all the more for human beings, who, unlike the world, acted on the malice they felt for others. That was something Shin had learned all too well in the internment camps and on the battlefield of the Eighty-Sixth Sector. Seeing it repeat itself time after time gave him all the lessons he would ever need.
So he’d simply pointed that out… What was unpleasant about that? He’d merely stated the facts. Was it because she was saddened? Because she pitied him? As Grethe once said, no one had the right to pity them. But at this point, Shin honestly couldn’t care about that anymore. The other party was free to pity them all they wanted, but Shin had no intent of playing along.
But if so…why?
Shin didn’t really understand what Lena was sad about. He had no desire to sadden her, of course, but since he couldn’t understand, he didn’t know how to handle it. It was hard not to feel as if she was avoiding him, and in truth, they had hardly spoken since. In the end, neither of them was willing to broach the subject, leaving things in a state of awkward silence.
“—Shin. Yo, Shin.”
Before he’d noticed, Raiden was waving a hand in front of his face. Shin seemed to have gotten lost in his thoughts for a good while. He looked back at Raiden, who smirked.
“Y’know, you really…really have changed.”
“?”
“Forget it,” Raiden replied, exasperated. “Well, knowing you, you’ll end up trashing Undertaker soon enough, so talk to her then… I mean, your rig’s one hell of a Hangar Queen.”
That was slang for a unit that always broke down and spent more time being repaired in the hangar than out on the battlefield. Small skirmishes aside, Undertaker had a way of always taking severe damage during large battles, so perhaps it was only natural it would end up being called that.
“…Old Aldrecht always gave me shit for that…”
“Yeah…”
I ain’t telling you to apologize—I’m telling you to change yer ways!
That crazy fightin’ style of yours is gonna get ya killed one day!
Rito had told them he’d died during the large-scale offensive, along with the other maintenance crew members. All of them, on the same day. Shin had felt a tinge of emotion upon hearing that, but some part of him had known that might be the case. The Eighty-Six made the battlefield their home and prided themselves on fighting to the bitter end. And all Eighty-Six eventually died. And that held just as true for the old head of maintenance, who’d stood by their side despite being an Alba.
But still…
“…I kinda wish he survived.”
Raiden turned his eyes to Shin, who continued without meeting his gaze.
“If he could’ve survived until the rescue forces came, he might’ve at least been able to see his family’s pictures. Looking for their remains would have been difficult, but he would’ve been able to go to their last battlefield.”
Unlike me, who can’t remember my family… Aldrecht, who still remembered his wife and daughter, could have had that little bit of peace.
All Eighty-Six died eventually… Shin understood that. But that
didn’t mean he was completely unmoved by the sheer amount of death he’d witnessed.
“…True, once the war with the Legion ends, visiting graves like that will be a possibility.”
After a heavy sigh, Raiden leaned forward.
“What do you think, Shin? Did the ‘Zelene’ you saw look like she was down to end the war?”
“…Who knows?”
That woman-shaped cluster of Liquid Micromachines hadn’t possessed a feature to emit sound, so Shin had had no way of picking up any emotion or nuance in her tone. All he could glean was the message.
Come find me.
There was no way of knowing what the intent was. Even for Shin, the person to whom those words were directed.
“It’s one thing to assume they want to negotiate or exchange information, but hoping something like that was a hint for ending the war feels like a leap of logic to me. Even if there is information the United Kingdom is holding back from us…I don’t see this war ending so easily.”
There wasn’t a single place on the continent where one could escape the war, and they couldn’t remember a time when that wasn’t the case. However…
“…But if the war ended…I think that’d be a good thing, in its own way.”
I want to show her the sea.
Things she didn’t know, things she’d never seen before. He wanted to show her everything the Legion had stolen from the world. Shin hadn’t forgotten those words. This was a worthy reason to fight. He didn’t have any expectations… That wish would likely go ungranted. But someday, if the war ended…
Raiden fell silent for a moment.
“Yeah. If the war ended…”
His sentence cut off halfway through, and he didn’t say any more. His silence spoke volumes, and Shin understood.
It would be nice if the war could end, they felt. But it was still impossible to imagine—because all they’d ever known was the battlefield.
There was a loud groan, and then their car was suddenly filled with light. In less than twenty minutes, the rolling stock of the high-speed train had traversed the tunnel that had taken two years to excavate. Their corneas, which had gotten accustomed to the dark, were momentarily blinded by the sunlight but gradually grew used to the glaring whiteness that filled the scenery outside the train.
The two wordlessly looked out the window. The bulletproof glass of the windowpanes impeded their visibility somewhat, giving the view outside a bluish tint. It was a different country, but the dreariness of it all remained the same. No combatants lived near the fronts. Any that survived left their homelands behind.
Thick silver-gray flakes fluttered to the ground. Old ruins dotted the snowy fields, making the view appear almost as desolate as the Eighty-Sixth Sector’s battlefield; everything looked to have frozen over, and the wasteland stretched on as far as the eye could see.
The United Kingdom of Roa Gracia’s Rogvolod City Terminal.
“We’ll be heading to the base first, then. It’s the, uh, Revich Citadel Base, right?”
“Yeah… Sorry for dropping all the dirty work on you.”
“Well, you technically are my superior officer, and the staff officers and majors will be taking care of the transfer itself. You guys just take care of escorting the colonel and Lena.”
Waving his hand, Theo made his way to his next train as the container for the Juggernauts was being unloaded and reloaded. Half the unit would go today, and the other half would go on the next transport. The Strike Package’s thousands of troops and their Feldreß would be moved to the Revich Citadel Base, on the United Kingdom’s front lines. They were making the transport in stages and with breaks in order to slip under the watchful eye of the Observation Control type, the Rabe.
After seeing his comrades off, Shin turned around to look at Rogvolod City. As he’d been told on the train, this city, which lay at the feet of the Dragon Corpse mountain range, was covered in cold, light snow. It was the southernmost city populated by civilians and was currently under blackout, which spoke to how frugal they had to be with electricity.
A short distance away from the city area, sitting in the shadow of a massive, rectangular domed structure lit by starlight, was the nuclear power plant that provided the district with heat.
Suddenly he heard the sound of someone stomping through the snow behind him.
“…Nouzen.”
Turning to find the owner of the voice, Shin saw a young man with a medal bearing a vehicle on his chest. He was one of the controllers who served in Lena’s command car, Vanadis, and a contemporary of his from the special officer academy: Erwin Marcel.
“Didn’t you retire from the military?”
“I can’t pilot a Vánagandr anyway. My leg got messed up during the large-scale offensive.”
Judging from the sound of his footsteps as he approached, the injury didn’t impede his walking, but Marcel looked down at his right leg as he spoke, saying that it was a compound fracture… When his broken bone had sliced through his flesh and skin, it had also severed a nerve. It didn’t hinder his day-to-day life, but the injury was devastating enough that he was no longer capable of the reaction speed needed for the split-second decision-making it took to pilot a Feldreß.
“Besides, the hell do you mean, ‘Didn’t you retire’? Unlike you Eighty-Six, we special officers can’t put food on the table if we quit the army.”
“You were gone from the register of the 177th Armored Division’s unit after the reorganization, but your name wasn’t announced on the war-dead broadcast. So I figured you retired… Didn’t think I’d see your name on the Strike Package’s command car unit register.”
“…Didn’t think you cared. I always figured you didn’t give two shits about anyone and anything around you.”
That lack of emotion and interest was something he’d hated about Shin since the special officer academy, Marcel thought. The way he was so detached from the hell of the battlefield… The way he could see through the terror in other people’s hearts felt almost as if he was mocking them in some way.
“…About Nina.”
Shin narrowed his eyes at the sudden mention of that name. Eugene had been a common friend and contemporary of theirs, and Nina was his younger sister. Shin had long since torn up and thrown away the letter she’d sent him, demanding to know why he’d killed her brother.
“I shouldn’t have told her how Eugene died… That letter wasn’t something a person needed to receive right before an operation they could’ve died in. I should’ve just told her that Eugene died and it was tragic and left it at that, but I ended up saying too much. I wanted her to think his death was someone’s fault, and I pinned it on you… I’m sorry.”
He lowered his head deeply. Shin simply shook his head and asked, “How’s she doing?”
After she’d lost the parents she couldn’t remember, the one person she’d had left—her brother—had died, too.
“Right… Well, she’s doing okay… With everything that went on with the Republic, the Alba back home are kind of ashamed. But, you know, her brother was a soldier, so she doesn’t get harassed, and she isn’t hung up on Eugene’s death, either.”
Shin closed his eyes.
She isn’t hung up on it. She isn’t waiting for her brother, knowing he’ll never return.
“That’s…good, then.”
Marcel’s face lit up with surprise before his expression shifted into a light smile.
“…Right.”
After Marcel walked away, Frederica, who had watched the exchange until now, walked up to Shin.
“…Are you really fine with that? That man… Well…”
“I don’t care… Not at this point.”
She looked up at him with her eyes oddly half-open, shrugged, and craned her neck, causing her small head to droop. The only ones heading for the capital, Arcs Styrie, were the brigade commander, Grethe; the tactical commander, Lena; Annette; a few select technical officers; and the senior squadron commanders and their vice captains: Shin and Raiden, and Shiden and Shana.
“It feels silly asking at this point, but is it all right for you to come with us to the capital?”
Her even just being implicated in an operation in which soldiers from another country were involved was problematic. She was an empress, if only a former one who was just a baby when the war started and who hadn’t been formally coronated. Since her ability was passed down through her bloodline, Shin didn’t think it would be safe to have someone from outside the country see her. He’d started the conversation now because there was no concern of someone eavesdropping on them here.
“My presence serves as the answer, does it not?” she said, as if without any intent to put on airs. “Members of the Giad Imperial household have been puppets for the great nobles for two centuries. Since the dawn of the Empire, the royal family has been forced to mix its blood with that of different races that entered the country. The lower nobles never knew the emperor’s face, to say nothing of the commoners, and have grown to believe the Imperial house’s abilities have diminished as repeated mixed marriages thinned our blood. Even the Idinarohks’ Amethystus would be hard pressed to learn that I am the empress Augusta…
“
Amethystus
was a term used to describe the Idinarohk line’s Espers for generations,” she added. Theirs was a bloodline that produced geniuses capable of feats like developing new AI models each generation.
“However, I do believe some of the western front’s generals harbor suspicions of my survival… Otherwise the record of your exchange with Milizé following Kiriya’s destruction would not have been played as it was before the generals.”
Shin grimaced because he’d been forced to be present in the briefing
when the recording was played before the generals, a time that he could only compare to torture. It was a memory he didn’t want to relive, so he’d kept it out of his mind until this moment. Even if the mission recorder had mostly picked up audio that had gone through the Processor’s intercom and exchanges with the outside, it was unlikely that it hadn’t picked up the voice of Frederica—who’d been in the cockpit with him—at all.
Right. At the time, Ernst had
called her Frederica
.
“So since he knows, there’s no danger of him betraying you?”
“On the contrary…”
Frederica tilted her head lightly. Almost sorrowfully… Apprehensively.
“I’m sure you’ve suspected it… But that man is a fire-breathing dragon. He puts ideals before all else and would cast himself and the rest of the world into the flames for the sake of upholding them—with an obsession and fixation that cannot be restrained. Honestly, that man is such a dragon.”
“…”
There was an expression that sometimes surfaced on the face of the man who was technically his adoptive father that contrasted with his usual amicable gaze. Words that were equal parts sympathetic and hollow, with only a thin veneer of sincerity on the surface. At times, Shin noticed the subtle cruelty behind his words.
If that’s what humankind has to do to survive, then we deserve to be wiped out.
“If I were to be set up as a symbol to capsize the Federacy… If humankind was foolish enough to put the Federacy and the rest of the world in danger before the conclusion of the war with the Legion, over pointless greed…he would likely think we were all better off going extinct.”
A change to democracy meant the transition and redistribution of wealth. Properties and commodities that once belonged exclusively to
the royalty, who made up only a small percentage of the population, were distributed among the populace. That led to an increase in the standard of living for the vast majority of people. But it also meant that extravagant, gaudy luxury items gradually started to disappear.
However, in the United Kingdom of Roa Gracia, which had been a powerful country for generations and was now the only remaining despotic monarchy, the royalty still held its wealth. In fact, Roa Gracia was the only nation that still produced such luxury items. The royal castle, which stood as the symbol and temple of the royals, was so dauntingly glamorous that it left Lena feeling overwhelmed.
The room they’d been taken to looked as if it had been made to entertain guests, not conduct official business. Laburnum and rose vines dangled down from the ceiling, along with a crystal chandelier in the shape of a blue passionflower, and the polished agate floor shone as if a mirror had been spread out below them. The furniture was all uniformly made of ebony inlaid with malachite, and a large number of roses—which were particularly rare in the frigid north—sat in aventurine vases.
At the corner of the room were a shining glasswork model of a peacock, a skull made of opal that was attached to the wall as if it were the prize of some hunt, and what appeared to be a genuine dinosaur fossil.
The white chalk wall was adorned with plaster craftsmanship modeled after a silvery vine pattern drawn with such minute detail that it made one’s head spin. It spoke to the vast amount of time that had gone into fashioning it… The absurd authority and power to produce, collect, and still maintain such riches… The overwhelming, awe-inspiring influence.
The Milizé family was a well-known house in the Republic and boasted a great deal of wealth and history, but it was still a house of former nobles who’d lost their status and their right to taxation three hundred years ago in the revolution. The riches here were on another level entirely.
She didn’t let her feelings show on her face, but she was still a bit unnerved. She looked to Shin, who seemed as indifferent as ever, in contrast to her. He was leaning his back against the wall and folding his arms—this was likely a habit of his. His bloodred eyes were cast down in what seemed like contemplative silence.
Looking around, she found Raiden and Shiden, who’d come as escorts. Raiden stifled a yawn like a bored wolf with more time on his hands than he knew what to do with, and Shiden was tampering with her tightly fastened tie, but she didn’t seem particularly overwhelmed by the spectacle. Frederica naturally sat on the ball-and-claw-footed sofa as if she felt right at home in this lavish setting.
The Eighty-Six valued little outside the battlefield they’d grown up on and their routine mortal combat. Anything that would imply status or garner respect in normal society didn’t really leave an impression on them. As such, the lush interior and extravagant decor had little impact in their eyes; it wasn’t as if the furniture could bite, after all.
Easily imagining them coming up with that kind of answer, Lena smiled slightly. In the event that she asked Shin if this kind of setting made him uncomfortable, she imagined that was the kind of answer he would give. The only things they found intimidating were the Legion they fought, and the only things they valued were the skills and knowledge needed to survive in battle. The world of man—with its rules and standards—was something utterly foreign to them.
Unusually enough, they were all wearing full formal attire, which was usually reserved for social events. Lena couldn’t recall seeing them wear anything like that previously, and the sight soothed her strained nerves a bit.
According to their dispatch plan, only the brigade commander, Grethe, was to hold an audience with the king and the crown prince. Annette was sent to greet the technology division with Shana as her escort, and Lena’s group was sent to meet the fifth prince in an official capacity, since both he and they were military personnel.
Still, the person in question was royalty. One would have to mind
their appearance. Lena was a given, of course, but even Shin and the other Processors came in full Federacy dress uniform, complete with their medals, armbands, and Sam Browne belts. They even had several service ribbons, which they didn’t normally wear, pinned to the left breast of their blazers.
After exhaling the air in her lungs with a sigh, Lena steeled herself.
Let’s go.
“It’s the first time I’ve seen you all in dress uniforms.”
There was a considerable pause before Shin responded, likely due to the glance his crimson eyes sneaked at her.
“…That makes sense. We don’t really wear them outside of ceremonies.”
The curt manner of his response made relief wash over Lena. It was Shin’s usual tone.
“Ceremonies?”
She gave her reply in a natural, casual tone. That was good.
“Like the enlistment ceremony… And award ceremonies.”
“Oh.”
Every army would publicly celebrate distinguished war service as well as the war wounded as a way of encouraging the former and pacifying the latter. It was also a great way to boost morale. It was different for Shiden, who was still a relatively new recruit, but Shin and Raiden, with their two years of military service in the Federacy, had already accumulated a surprisingly large number of medals. Of course, it was too soon for them to receive one for long service, but they did have medals for their capabilities and achievements. They both had impressive Legion kill counts, so their medals likely indicated that.
“I’d have liked to see those… Do you think if I asked the president, he’d have pictures or footage of it?”
The Federacy’s temporary president, Ernst Zimmerman, was Shin’s legal guardian and was the kind to proactively keep those kinds of records. Shin, however, simply frowned.
“Please don’t. There’s nothing fun about watching that.”
Which meant there certainly were some records. Lena decided she
would ask Ernst for them when they returned to the Federacy. However reluctant Ernst may be to share them, Grethe would probably manage something.
Lena heaved an internal sigh of relief over the success of her first attempt at idle conversation with Shin in a while.
Thank goodness. At the very least, he doesn’t seem to hate me for what I said.
She then went on to ask something else that was on her mind.
“Er… Is something bothering you? You’ve been acting strange for some time.”
Or rather, ever since they entered the United Kingdom’s territory. At Rogvolod City Terminal, on the train to the capital, and when they were led to the rooms prepared for them in one wing of the palace. Every now and then, Shin’s gaze would turn nervously in an unexpected direction. And he’d been like that since they’d come into this room, too. Something was bothering him, like a hound attentively perking up his ears, picking up something a human’s sense of hearing couldn’t.
“Yeah…”
Breaking off his words, Shin fell quiet for a moment. His silence felt oddly hesitant, as if he himself wasn’t convinced about what he was about to say.
“…I can hear the Legion’s voices from close by. I don’t have an exact number, but there’s quite a few of them.”
“Wha—?”
Having almost yelled out in surprise, Lena hurriedly restrained herself. Feeling a suspicious gaze turned her way from a blond-haired, blue-eyed Emeraud chamberlain standing in the corner, she stifled her voice.
“Why did you keep quiet about it until now? The United Kingdom already knows about your ability. You should have warned us if a raid was coming…”
Her tone came across as sharp in spite of herself. Preparing for a Legion raid ahead of time could greatly diminish the number of casualties, and no country had managed to develop a means of gaining
recon on the Legion with as large a range or degree of accuracy as Shin’s power yet.
But Shin simply responded with a confused expression, as if he was uncertain about what he was saying.
“Because they’re
too
close. Judging from how close the voices are, they’re definitely coming from within the capital, and the closest one is here, inside the castle. I can’t really assume they infiltrated.”
It was, after all, a national capital. Arcs Styrie was a good distance away from the front lines, with a great deal of defenses standing between them. Even if the Legion had infiltrated behind the front lines, it was unlikely even a single self-propelled mine would have gotten this far.
“I thought an Eintagsfliege might have managed to fly in somehow, but there’s too many voices for that. It’s likely Legion they captured for research purposes. If nothing else, I don’t think any fighting will break out.”
“—Close but no cigar, as they say. But as you’ve surmised, there’s no danger to be wary of. Please ignore it, if you would.”
There came an unfamiliar voice. It echoed sweetly in the ear, with a permeating tenor that felt accustomed to making speeches but still rung as the voice of a boy near their age. A youth clad in the United Kingdom’s violet-and-black uniform with a stand-up collar entered through a door held open by a chamberlain.
He had the thin physique of a young man in his late teens. The United Kingdom’s royalty customarily grew out their hair, but his was cut short, and he had the fair complexion characteristic of those living in the north. His eyes were faintly slanted like a tiger’s, with his features being an equal balance of dainty gentleness and inhuman cruelty. He had a somewhat androgynous countenance that came across as aristocratic, but for some reason Lena associated his overall appearance with a slender black serpent.
Sleek pitch-black scales. Beautiful eyes the color of purple lightning.
A cold-blooded beast, devoid of human empathy.
The boy gave a sinister smile, narrowing his cold, gemlike, Imperial violet eyes.
“I apologize for the wait, dear friends. I am Viktor Idinarohk, your comrade starting today… Allow me to first greet you. Welcome to the unicorn’s castle.”
The prince made his way over to them, accompanied by the sound of his military boots clicking against the agate floor and the gentle rustling of his clothes. His outfit gave off the scent of southern frankincense. Lena caught herself starting at him, forgoing all notions of manners and etiquette. His beautiful facial features stood in contrast to how naturally his uniform gave off a sense of overpowering, solemn dignity.
“So His Majesty the prince himself really came to greet us.”
The prince raised his brows in an exaggerated fashion.
“You already have a grasp on our weakness, I believe… The United Kingdom was where the Mariana Model, which went on to become the basis of the Legion, was developed. Even if the war were to end, the other countries would no doubt regard us with disdain.”
“…”
There was no direct causality between the development of the Mariana Model and the war with the Legion, but things would likely play out as the prince said. When calamity strikes, people tend to look for a cause. Even if it requires a great leap, or rather lapse, in logic, they seek to pin the blame for the wrongs done to them on someone else.
“Though I suppose we’ll be better off than the Empire, which developed the Legion, or rather its successor, the Federacy… Though even if they don’t intend to admit to or take any responsibility for it, they still exhibit enough good faith that it is unlikely anyone would demand it of them. The people are more swayed by a country that extends a helping hand to its neighbors than by one that wouldn’t even protect its own citizens.”
He then shrugged in a detached manner… Perhaps it was due to his life in the military, but his gestures didn’t come across as the least bit regal.
“And so the royalty gets sent around to make courtesy calls… But
the same holds true, once again, for the Federacy. The Eighty-Sixth Strike Package. An elite unit composed of young men and women sent to give aid to other countries. The same deeds would not have been the slightest bit picturesque had it been coarse men doing them, but the story is quite different when child soldiers of such tragic roots are the ones doing the saving.”
“Nng…?!”
Lena’s breath caught in her throat. She’d seen and known the pity rooted in condescension that some of the Federacy’s citizens showed the Eighty-Six. But for the Federacy’s government to have sent them out on the premise they’d be pitied, hoping to use the Eighty-Six as a diplomatic tool to buy the other countries’ sympathy…?!
Just how low could people stoop?
She felt an icy tone and warped smile nearly wash over her, but she quickly shook them off.
That can’t be. People are more than just needlessly cruel and heartless. This is a time of war, and they might have to show only their most ugly facets, but…people, and this world, are actually…
“But, Your Highness… That’s…”
The prince gave a sociable smile.
“Call me Vika, please. You can do away with the titles and empty formalities. They’re a waste of time in the military, after all. And I’ll address you all by your surnames. If you find it rude, feel free to say so, and I will correct myself accordingly.”
Calling someone by their nickname was something that was permitted only for those who were close to that person. Considering the individual in question was royalty, it came across as exceptionally cordial treatment, but as he’d said, it wasn’t out of affection as much as a sense of rationality. After all, he may have allowed them to call him by his nickname, but he intended to stand on formality and address them with their last names.
As Lena opened her mouth to speak, he silenced her with a raised hand.
“I said there’s no need for empty formalities, Colonel Vladilena
Milizé. Your data has been disclosed to the United Kingdom, and I’ve taken the liberty of reading up on you ahead of time. You don’t have to waste your breath on introductions.”
Incidentally, the United Kingdom hadn’t disclosed any information regarding him. At least, nothing that had reached Lena.
“…Well, it may come off as a touch impolite as exchanges go, but feel free to see it as us not having the leisure for such niceties and graciously forgive me for it. After all…”
He glanced at the large window with a view of the capital’s streets, motioning at them to look as well, and curled his lips upward coldly.
“…as you can see, our United Kingdom is in an extremely critical situation.”
Yes, it was plain to see.
Outside the window, thick, low silver clouds shrouded the sky, and snow fluttered gently down despite it being
late spring
, whiting out all other colors. Even in the Federacy, there were no more days of sudden chill, and in the Republic, early blooming summer roses opened up around this time. Even a northern country wouldn’t have a midwinter-like snowfall at this time of year.
As Lena looked up at the clouds, she could see flickers of silver reflecting the lights from the ground at the edge of her vision. It was as if countless small shards of metal were reflecting the light. Like the fluttering of countless butterfly wings…
“Eintagsfliege…”
“Indeed. Even this land, beloved as it is by the goddess of white snow, would not be covered by its veil this late into the year.”
That was the expression used by the United Kingdom to describe winter, but there wasn’t a hint of a smile on Vika’s face. His eyes had the same coldness as the soul-freezing winter of the north.
“Because of the multilayered deployment of those metal clouds—the Eintagsfliege—the United Kingdom is rapidly cooling. Along with the capital, half of our territories’ south is blanketed by their wings.”
The Electronic Disruption type, the Eintagsfliege, was capable of deflecting and disrupting electronic waves of all kinds, light included.
In the Eighty-Sixth Sector, their hordes resembled thin silver clouds that blotted out the sun, and on the Federacy’s fronts, where their deployment was more intense, the sky seemed to be constantly shut out behind oppressive silver.
But there were no documented cases of them ever deploying in numbers significant enough to create snowfall during late spring, or over such a large radius…
“When did this start?”
“Around when the mass-produced intelligent Legion you call Sheepdogs became the main force. In other words, early this spring.”
It was as she suspected.
“Our southern agricultural regions will be devastated at this rate… This country wasn’t too blessed with sunlight to begin with, so the majority of our electricity comes from geothermal, coal-based, and nuclear power plants. But if we divert all our production plants to producing food, we won’t be able to defend ourselves. If the Legion keep tightening the noose around our necks like this, by next spring, my country won’t exist.”
With a wave of his hand, a three-dimensional hologram appeared in the middle of the room. It was a solid map that displayed a simplified view of the United Kingdom’s territories. As she saw Shin approach the map, likely sensing there was an explanation coming, Lena said, “If they use the same tactic elsewhere, the Federacy might be fine, given its large territory, but any other country wouldn’t last.”
“Yes. And that’s why we have to nip their plan in the bud now, while they’re still using the United Kingdom as a testing ground. Thankfully, the Federacy and the United Kingdom have the same objective. The Merciless Queen you lot are looking for is deep within the Legion’s territory, in the Eintagsfliege production site in the depths of the Dragon Fang Mountain.”
The display showed the Dragon Corpse mountain range, namely the part near the border with the Republic, which was the United Kingdom’s battlefield. It then switched to a three-dimensional model depicting the Dragon Fang Mountain, which lay deep within the mountain range. It
seemed there was a production plant there. The hologram also displayed the estimated number of hostiles and the linear distance from the nearest front, which was an estimated seventy kilometers.
“The objective of this joint operation is the invasion and retaking of the Dragon Fang Mountain and the capture of the Merciless Queen.”
“Precisely, Bloody Reina. We will have you shoot down the moon for us.”
Gazing at the model of the Dragon Fang Mountain, which, as its name implied, was shaped like a massive fang sticking out toward the heavens with a typical rocky, pyramidal peak, Lena spoke:
“Your Highness.”
“It’s Vika, Milizé.”
“Pardon, Vika. I would like for you to confirm the force you’ll be commanding during this operation. I’ve heard your country employs autonomous unmanned weapons to defend its borders.”
This was the reason for the United Kingdom’s ability to defend its territory despite its national power being inferior to the Federacy’s. Vika broke into a small, cynical smile.
“Half autonomous. We wouldn’t make the folly of bringing fully autonomous weapons into the fray with the example of the Legion breathing down our necks. Besides, the United Kingdom hasn’t reproduced an autonomous AI on the level of the Legion.”
“But that’s… Even you can’t reproduce it, Vika?”
“It’s not that I can’t. I simply have no desire to.”
The prince said this in a self-important manner, as if to say he could do it if he put his mind to it, with the same lightness as if they were discussing a slightly complicated cooking recipe. But even as the survival of his country and the countless lives of his civilians hung in the balance, he easily cut down the possibility, saying he wasn’t up to it.
Lena realized she’d gotten a glimpse of the cruelty of noble blood, which the Republic, with its emphasis on equality, wasn’t familiar with. Blue blood, lacking any and all warmth.
“The drone you describe is called an Alkonost. It’s a half-autonomous Feldreß meant for combating large groups of enemies… In terms of ratio,
they make up fifty percent of our forces, with the other half being our manned Barushka Matushkas, but the units under my direct command are almost entirely Alkonosts. Including my personal unit, Barushka Matushkas are only used for defending the command post.”
“You say ‘half-autonomous’… So they’re operated remotely by humans—by Handlers, yes? Is the method of operation wireless? How do you bypass the Eintagsfliege’s electronic disruption?”
“Alkonosts are connected to their Handlers via the technology you call the Para-RAID.”
Lena knit her brows dubiously. The Para-RAID—Sensory Resonance—was a communication method that made use of linking senses, mostly hearing, by way of the collective unconscious shared by all humankind. In so doing, it overcame the obstacles of distance, physical obstruction, and all manner of jamming.
That, in and of itself, made it extremely groundbreaking technology, but since it employed the human collective unconscious, it didn’t allow one to communicate with anything that wasn’t human—namely machines, which didn’t have a consciousness of their own.
Or rather, as far as Lena knew, it shouldn’t have enabled communication with anything that wasn’t human.
“B-but how…?”
“I’ll show you right now. Lerche, are you there?”
He didn’t raise his voice, but a response came from behind the door.
“Of course.”
“I’ll introduce you. Come in.”
“Yes.”
The door opened. Remaining at a distance that was a bit too far to hold a conversation, the figure knelt in a lively manner.
“’Tis a pleasure to make your acquaintance. I am Lerche, knight and royal guard to Prince Viktor. I serve as his sword and shield.”
The figure spoke with a clear, high-pitched, pleasant voice, like the chirping of a songbird.
“The Republic’s Lady Bloody Reina and the Federacy’s Sir Reaper, Sir Wehrwolf, and Lady Cyclops. I’ve heard much of your military fame.
Especially you, Sir Reaper. I would very much like to be instructed by you, if given the chance.”
As mentioned, her voice was like lovely chirping.
“And as for the lovely princess over there, I welcome you to our snow-white country. I’m always willing to accommodate if playing in the snow suits your fancy, so feel free to call for me whenever you wish.”
Redundant though it may be to mention again, her voice was exceedingly pleasant.
“…I’m sorry—give me a minute.”
Vika raised his hands, walked over to the kneeling figure, and shouted at her lowered head.
“Lerche! Didn’t I tell you to take this chance to change the way you speak to people?!”
She lifted her face in surprise. She was an Emeraud girl with golden hair tied tightly in a bun and green eyes. She seemed to be the same age as Vika, which meant she was also roughly the same age as Lena and Shin. She was dressed in an old-style military uniform made of rouge-colored fabric and decorated with golden laces, with a formal-looking saber sheathed at her waist. She had petite, lovely facial features, and her thin eyebrows were scrupulously upturned in protest.
“What…? Your Highness, what are you saying?! This is proof of my fealty to you, and even
your
orders will not deter me!”
“What vassal would adopt a manner of speech that disturbs their master as proof of their fealty?! Are you an idiot, you seven-year-old?!”
“Good advice, just like effective medicine, is oh so bitter, Your Highness! And that is why, despite the sorrow it brings me, I treat you with undying respect! To have my actions seen under such scrutiny shames me to no end…!”
Vika cradled his head in annoyance.
“Aaaah, confound it all—no matter what I say, you always have a retort…! What bloody fool tuned your linguistic features…?!”
“…With all due respect, Your Highness, the only one who has ever handled my tuning is you.”
“I know that—I’m just grumbling! By God, just ignore it!”