My fleet and the Lords' Fleet—composed of vassals from the rank of Marquess downward—stood our ground against the Battleship-type Zork.
"Lord Thomas! A transmission from Count Isono! It reads: 【Drive a knife into your buttocks. Do that, and you need not fear their hallucinations】!"
The communication officer reported the message.
Count Isono, a senior officer of the Leo Kamishiro unit.
Heh. A vulgar joke, typical of a career soldier.
He truly was a man of my brother-in-law Leo’s circle. A man of grit. I liked him.
I had heard he was engaged to the Daughter of House Hanazawa. Given Veronica’s plans, she likely intended to have his line marry into Leo’s descendants. He was a candidate for a future Dukedom.
Ah, it was truly remarkable.
Exemplary individuals were constantly gravitating toward Veronica and Leo. It was enough to make one envious. I suppose that is simply the charisma of a hero.
Still, to suggest the buttocks!!!
I caught a glimpse of his resolve—he would show the Zork no fear. Yes, those monsters fed on our terror and despair. We could not afford to be afraid.
I drew my knife and made a shallow cut across my palm. Blood began to seep out.
I held my hand up for all to see.
"The buttocks were an exaggeration! Men! Your palms, the backs of your arms... anywhere that won't hinder your movements! Cut yourselves! Let the pain tether us to reality!!!"
The officers on the bridge saw my wound and followed suit, cutting their palms in unison. Cyrus, serving as my adjutant, did not hesitate for a second before cutting his own.
"Long live the Galactic Empire!!!"
They all raised their bloodied palms, flaunting their wounds. In that moment, our hearts became one. We were determined not to repeat the failures of the previous expedition.
Cyrus issued the follow-up order.
"Relay the command to the soldiers! Tell them to use their knives to cut themselves somewhere that won't interfere with their duties!"
Though the soldiers were momentarily bewildered, they began cutting their palms or the backs of their arms one after another.
"Long live the Empire!!!"
The sharp sting of pain focused our spirits. This was no mere continuation of the Empire’s ugly history. Veronica and Leo were forging a new era.
The swarm of Battleship-type Zork began to move.
Their scale was staggering. They were even larger than Veronica’s super-dreadnought. However, they were merely enemies my sister and brother-in-law had already bested.
"Scatter the mines! The crabs' brute-force charge is the real threat!"
"Sir!"
My fleet maintained its distance, systematically deploying anti-Zork mines. The Lords' Fleet followed the same protocol.
"Everyone, stay calm!!! They know nothing of tactics! If you stick to your training, we will not lose!"
When I shouted to rally them, the bridge crew actually laughed.
"We have been called a warrior class for centuries, yet we have lived without knowing war... Let us show them our true valor!!!"
"Hahaha! We can't let mere students show us up! We have to teach Lord Leo what adult dignity looks like!"
"Indeed! Let us show them that the warrior class is still very much alive!!!"
Men who should have been reaching retirement age laughed. Unlike Veronica’s ship, where the average age was unnervingly young, the average age in our fleet was high. It was comprised mostly of parents who had lost their children in the previous expedition.
And yet, not one of them ever directed a word of resentment toward me. I had even asked them about it directly once.
"The ones at fault are the traitors—the Duke Association and those chamberlains."
That was their only answer. Still, the cause of that failed expedition lay with me as well. Looking back, perhaps that failure was predestined from my childhood.
The noble children assigned to be my friends in my youth... almost all of them died in that expedition. My poor companions.
They were born back then only to die a wretched death. They were pawns of the Duke Association, sent to die in a pointless campaign. They had become fodder for the Zork just to allow me to escape, never even knowing they were being used by traitors.
They were nothing more than game pieces for the Duke Association, the chamberlains, and the civil officials—the people who truly pulled the strings of this nation. I was no different. I had been socialized only with the children of those elites, raised in a vacuum without ever knowing the reality of the world. They kept me from doing anything, spared me from every trial, all to ensure I grew into an ignorant puppet.
Cyrus was likely the same. We were simply lucky. Out of more than two hundred siblings, only Veronica managed to leave the Inner Palace and find a worthy partner. Being 128th in the Line of Imperial Succession, she had managed to rise through the military without ever drawing the scrutiny of the Duke Association or the bureaucracy. She had grown up without the shackles that bound the rest of us.
I envied her, but her path was not one I could ever emulate. All I could do was fight so that people like us would never be created again. So that no one else would have their lives ruined by the whims of shadow-players. To reach such a future... I would gladly give my life.
"Rotate! Bring the main cannons to bear!"
We adjusted our heading and waited at the tactical waypoint. The Zork that blundered into the minefield were torn apart by explosions one after another.
"Lord Thomas, the fighters are launching."
A report came in. These were non-humanoid fighters. The pilot leading them was a man far older than the typical fighter pilot: Count Carfman.
He belonged to a house under the umbrella of the Duke Association, though he himself had no direct involvement in their schemes. He had joined the war at the head of his clan to save the main house's Duke-class planet, losing his children in the process. He had already retired, but he had joined this expedition at his own adamant request.
"Lord Carfman, don't you go dying on me."
"Victory and defeat are the common lot of the soldier. I'm afraid I can't make any promises."
Carfman gave a sharp smirk as he replied. It was dark humor, and I could only manage a strained, wry smile in return. Give me a break.
"Launch!!!"
The only humanoid fighters in my fleet belonged to the Imperial Guard. Thanks to my brother-in-law’s exploits, humanoid fighter pilots were the focus of everyone's attention. New tactics, new strategies, new technology... it was the dawn of a new age. However, that also meant the requirements for pilots had skyrocketed.
Only ace-class pilots could hope to survive a dogfight with the Zork. Even being an 'ace' was barely the baseline now. Currently, such pilots were only found among my brother-in-law’s men or Veronica’s Imperial Guard. To be honest, I sometimes wondered if they were even human. Their skills were that far removed from conventional piloting.
That was why I had proposed the use of conventional fighters—machines designed solely for the sake of battle. The results of that decision were about to be put to the test.
The fighters began their approach toward the swarm of crabs.