Chronos was on the brink of total collapse, pushed to the edge by the Zen God Race's terrorism. They were acting like a hostess at the end of her rope, driven to steal a customer’s wallet.
...That was a pretty grim way to put it.
Even on the planets we had managed to liberate, thirty percent of the residents were listed as missing.
In this case, "missing" meant "the remains could not be recovered."
Worse yet, the death toll was only expected to rise due to indirect casualties.
No matter how much support we provided, it was an unavoidable reality.
Currently, every pediatric hospital established by the Multinational Force was at full capacity.
It wasn't just psychiatrists; even with counselors and students in the field mobilized, we were still short-staffed.
When you hit a thirty percent mortality rate, it means practically every family has lost someone.
If you factored in friends, acquaintances, and relatives, people had effectively lost half of their social circles to the Ghouls.
This went beyond a simple grudge.
It was at a level where people would gladly offer up their own lives if it meant swearing an oath to exterminate the Zen God Race.
That was bad.
A very dangerous mental state.
Finally, even the Galactic Empire began recruiting psychiatrists and counselors.
This included long-term part-time jobs for students.
We dangled scholarships and academic credits in front of them...
I honestly didn't think anyone would come, and yet...
Applications flooded in the moment the announcement went out.
Even in the heat of battle, I was cornered by a civil official who shouted, "Y-Your Excellency the Grand Duke! We're being overwhelmed with applications!"
I thought the work would be grueling without serious resolve... even if the pay was good.
Doctors from local clinics were applying in droves, too.
Well... the Empire’s economy was booming, so maybe there just wasn't enough work to go around elsewhere.
Given the circumstances, our solidarity as a "Zen God Race Victim Alliance" was rock solid.
We were currently stuck waiting for repairs on the Chronos Battleship, the star of the show.
They didn't have many spares to begin with.
That said, we couldn't just tell them, "Chronos, sit this one out!"
Our legitimacy would take a massive hit.
Military life is mostly just waiting around, anyway.
We maintained our legitimacy because we had the Colonel with us.
During the downtime, I visited the Chronos ship with my wifey to attend a memorial service for the victims.
There was only one victim—a single pilot—but there was a point to participating.
It was a way of saying, "We're in this with you."
Maintaining relationships was vital.
As a side note, the survivors from the capital were rather cold about it, saying, "Is there really a point in going?"
In contrast, those of us from the sticks—myself included—were desperate to argue the point.
"If you skip a funeral, you’re looking at total social ostracism," we insisted.
No, seriously, this wasn't something to take lightly.
At the very least, you show up for the funerals of people you knew personally or those you were connected to.
Like your vassals or their families.
Even in my household, someone from the family always attends the funerals of staff members, including those formerly with the Agricultural Cooperative.
So, I managed to convince my wifey and we attended.
It was a simple ceremony.
I had made sure to tell them beforehand, "I don't know your ritual procedures."
An expert walked me through it.
Thankfully, there were no traps like "participating in this ritual makes you a permanent convert and leaving the faith is forbidden."
Believe it or not, there are a lot of religions like that.
The sound of flutes and drums filled the air.
Apparently, it was Chronos traditional music.
The ceremony was focused on celebrating the bravery of the departed.
Since we were minors and couldn't drink, both of us were served juice.
It was the Craft Cola Latarnia Custom sold by Count One-Two-Three.
They might have gone out of their way to be considerate toward us.
We listened to the folk music and the priest’s sermon.
After about an hour, it shifted into a rowdy drinking party for the comrades, so we headed back to our battleship.
No incidents so far.
I suppose funerals aren't that different no matter where you go.
From Latarnia, the General attended; from the Taikyoku Nation, Shiyun and her brother came.
Saria represented the Ogre God Nation and the Battle Dome.
"How was it? Their funeral, I mean?"
Shiyun asked me, but I struggled to find the right words.
"I only really know how things are done back home... so honestly, I can't really tell."
"I suppose so. In the Taikyoku Nation, people hide their faces and scatter coins while parading with the coffin."
"That sounds pretty lively."
A difference in culture.
Once I was done experiencing cultural diversity, it was back to work.
We had cleared out the nuisance battleships guarding the Chronos capital.
Finally, we could deploy the reconnaissance drones.
Kevin is incredibly reliable at times like this.
Actually, it's more that Kevin is the only one who can do it.
Managing ten thousand drones and giving each one a unique movement pattern... that's impossible for me.
The Chronos Capital Planet had devolved into an end-of-the-century Hyahhaa world.
Every bit of infrastructure was pulverized; buildings were toppled.
There wasn't a soul in sight.
Why does the Zen God Race insist on such total destruction?
Nobody wins in a scenario like this...
"Any sign of the enemy?"
"Nothing on visual or sensors. I've got no read on them."
"Figures... Tatiana, I'm calling in the Saint Beam!"
I turned to Tatiana for the next step.
"Barrier Cannon! Requesting permission to charge!"
She gave me a fierce snarl, but she still did her job.
Yeah, yeah, permission granted.
Wifey gave her okay, too.
This was such a chore.
After we used it a few more times and proved it was "effective," we wouldn't need to go through the permission process anymore.
It was an unknown technology even to us, so it couldn't be helped.
The Barrier Cannon was a device we'd essentially jury-rigged onto a modified battleship.
Its energy efficiency was so pathetic it was a strategic disaster!
The underlying mechanism hadn't been fully decoded yet.
Because of that, we still didn't know what the optimal output was.
But it worked, so we had to use it.
There were no adverse effects on the human body... so far.
Those of us who were constantly bathed in it seemed fine.
Besides, it relied so heavily on Tatiana's unique abilities that nobody else could replicate it anyway!
"Barrier Cannon energy charge complete! Requesting permission to fire!"
Yes, yes, fire away!
The entire battleship began to shudder violently.
"Fire!"
The Barrier Cannon discharged.
Just as it was about to slam into the surface, Tatiana screamed.
"Barrier Deployment!"
With a heavy, low-frequency hum, the Barrier Cannon shut down.
And there it was: Energy Red.
"Rapid energy recharge for the battleship, now!"
"Understood!"
I barked orders to the engine room.
Phew...
God, that was loud!
I really need to look into some improvements.
"Kevin... what's the word?"
"Explosions across various sectors. But it looks like they were limited to the surface."
Alright.
First, we'll set up Tatiana’s barrier units to establish a safe zone, then we start the rescue mission!
"Diplomatic Department! Coordinate with Latarnia and the Taikyoku Nation. Broadcast the start of rescue operations on every available channel! I'm heading out!"
Meanwhile, the Ogre God Nation—famous for "not being able to be reasoned with"—was left behind on guard duty.
Do you see, Saria...? A "friendly devil" is far more preferable than someone "you can't talk to!"
And just like that, we liberated the Chronos Capital Planet.
Probably.
Actually, the Colonel has been spamming me with messages for a while now.
He really wants us to head down together.