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Toaru Hikuushi e no Seiyaku:V6Part1

2025-12-05T02:27:53Z

QCore:

==Part 15 - The Second Multi-Island Sea War (Continued) (Part 1 of Volume 6)==

Every time I fly through the sky, my heart freezes.

Kindness, compassion, the desire to care for others and be grateful—all those human emotions are carried away by the high-altitude currents. In their place, a core of steel pierces through, treating everything in the airspace as inanimate objects to be captured and eliminated.

I am not killing people.

I am destroying the murderous machines that rain bombs indiscriminately on women, children, and the elderly living on the ground.

To complete the demolition work in the sky without fail, one must completely discard any impurities of humanity from their consciousness.

If you show mercy, in the next moment, you will be blown apart. All the effort you've poured into honing your mind, body, and spirit to their absolute limits will scatter like flowers in the fire, returning to zero as they are torn apart and blown away. The enemy, breaking through the wreckage, will kill more comrades and burn the cities where non-combatants live with a smirk on their face.

I am not a saint who can allow such things.

To keep all the people living in my homeland alive, I shoot down the enemy. That's all I need to think about.

Gripping the control stick of the Akitsu Federation Navy's single-seat fighter, the "Murasame," Sakagami Kiyoaki becomes a molecule of steel as he pursues the enemy aircraft.

The blue-Gray plane blends into the ocean below as it desperately tries to escape. It's the same St Vault Naval Air Force single-seat fighter, the "Beo-Eagle," that I was piloting just a month ago.

Even though I try not to think about it, my eyes inevitably go to the tail. The plane wobbles, and I spot a single yellow stripe. It's the mark of the St Vault aircraft carrier fighter squadron. The planes belonging to the strongest fighter squadron in St Vault, the Voltec Air Squadron, which I was once a part of, have three stripes—white, red, and blue—on the tail.

──It's not the Voltec Air Squadron. The enemy is a carrier-based aircraft.

I locked the blue-Gray enemy plane into the gunsight.

Shaking off any lingering softness in my heart, Kiyoaki squeezes the triggers for both the 20mm cannon and the 7.7mm machine gun simultaneously.

The roar of the machine guns shakes the plane as red tracer rounds streak toward the enemy.

As I tilt the control stick to the side and begin to turn, I catch a glimpse of the flaming enemy aircraft disappearing off to my rear-left.

There is no pain in my chest. There is no guilt over killing someone. There is no joy, no pleasure, no sense of achievement.

──Next.

It's like plucking the feathers off one bird and moving on to the next. That’s the closest feeling Kiyoaki has right now.

Altitude: 5,700 meters. I half-roll, looking up at the ocean, and take in the aerial battlefield from a bird's-eye view.

Against the bright blue sea background, the green-coloured fighters of the Akitsu Federation Navy and the blue-Gray carrier-based planes of the St Vault Naval Air Force are clashing near the coast of Messus Island. My eyes scan the entire airspace, searching for the enemy bomber squadron, but I can't see them. I spot my next target, turn my body, and dive like a hawk.

The helpless prey grows larger in the view from my windscreen.

Confirming the single yellow stripe on the tail, I close in to a sure-fire distance and pour 20mm cannon fire into the target.

I pass the new fireball as I continue my dive, and just as I spot my beleaguered ally, I latch onto the tail of the enemy aircraft that was pursuing them.

The enemy, focused entirely on peering through their sight, doesn’t notice Kiyoaki at their rear. I open the throttle, thinning the distance between us, and after confirming no enemy aircraft are behind me, I aim the 7.7mm machine guns at the enemy's tail.

The yellow stripe breaks apart into pieces, and the enemy aircraft loses control, flailing wildly like a kite with its string cut. After downing three planes in about fifteen minutes since the dogfight began, Kiyoaki calmly searches for the next bird to pluck.

──Eliminate the foreign objects from the sky.

With only that resolve buried deep in his gut, Kiyoaki soars through the battlefield.

The year 1349 of the Imperial Calendar, early October, Messus Island, Odessa.

At the Akitsu Federation Navy's first airfield in Odessa, Colonel Li Koutsu, the base commander, looked suspiciously at Kiyoaki as he received the battle report in the nearby air command post.

“You say you shot down five planes in that last dogfight?”

“That’s how it appeared to me.”

“If I were to take your report as is, that would make twenty-five planes in the last ten days alone. That’s more than our ace pilots.”

“I must be mistaken. The battle verification planes’ reports are more accurate. I don’t care about my number of kills, so please estimate the results at your discretion, Commander.”

Kiyoaki replied matter-of-factly, causing Commander Li to grunt in displeasure. After saluting, Kiyoaki left the commander's presence and walked toward the barracks.

Two young airmen, faces tense with nervousness, ran up from behind and stood stiffly to the side of Kiyoaki’s path. They both had sturdy builds, with flat faces and thick, short limbs—features typical of westerners. One of the boys raised his voice.

“Second Lieutenant Sakagami! I am Second Class Airman Jadamba Dambazolik! I watched your air battle from the ground just now!”

The other, a slightly more refined-looking young man with long limbs and supple muscles, also saluted with his chest puffed out.

“I-I am also a Second Class Airman, Nyutabaru Rensuke! I am deeply impressed by Second Lieutenant Sakagami’s skill!”

They both seemed young, probably around seventeen or eighteen, younger than Kiyoaki.

Kiyoaki stopped and returned the salute, his expression unchanged, and responded.

“Thank you. But there are plenty of people better than me.”

He said only that, in a tone devoid of emotion, and then left the two standing there as he walked toward the barracks.

Dambazolik and Rensuke exchanged glances and quickly ran ahead to stand stiffly by the side of the path again.

“With all due respect, I-I would like to become your disciple, Second Lieutenant Sakagami!!”

“I’ll do anything you ask!! Please teach me the techniques of aerial combat!!”

Kiyoaki stopped and cast a glance at the two.

“There are many excellent airmen among the non-commissioned officers. You should ask them.”

Dambazolik pursed his lips and shook his head.

“There are! There are, but…”

“The way they teach is… well…”

Both hesitated, unable to express something. But Kiyoaki could understand what they were trying to say. It was about the bad customs within the Akitsu Federation military.

“Commander Li has forbidden corporal punishment.”

“Yes! It is forbidden, but…”

Rensuke answered with that, his expression serious as he stared straight ahead, his eyes unwavering.

Though it is forbidden, it seems corporal punishment is still practiced in the non-commissioned officers’ barracks.

I do feel sorry for them.

"I'm not that good, and I'm not that important. You should ask someone else."

With those curt words, he left the two behind and returned to the officers' barracks.

He sat at his desk and started reading the instruction manual for officer pilots. He needed to learn the unique methods of the Akitsu Navy, which differed from the St Vault Naval Air Force. While he was drilling the contents into his head, an officer he had known for a long time entered the barracks and spoke to Kiyoaki.

"As expected of the son of Master Sakagami, Kiyoaki. That air battle just now blew my mind."

Kiyoaki immediately stood up straight.

"Colonel Ogiya...! I’m honoured."

"Relax. I just came to chat. But seriously, that brat who used to fly planes around without permission has really grown up..."

Odessa Air Squadron’s operations staff officer, Colonel Ogiya Haruhiko, laughed heartily as he sat down in the chair next to Kiyoaki, lighting up a cigarette from the rations. He blew a cloud of purple smoke and motioned for Kiyoaki to sit down again. This staff officer, now forty-one years old, was a veteran who had also participated in the First Multi-Island Sea War.

"How many air battles have you been in since returning here?"

"Twenty-two times."

"How many kills?"

"Seventeen confirmed, and fifteen unconfirmed."

Ogiya whistled.

"That’s a lot of unconfirmed kills."

"Yes. The commander even called me a liar earlier."

Kiyoaki answered with a bitter smile.

"We do have battle verification planes, but they’re not perfect. The numbers are somewhat arbitrary. But looking at how you fight, I feel like you should have more confirmed kills."

Ogiya said this and shot Kiyoaki a serious look for just a moment. Kiyoaki could only respond with another bitter smile.

"I don’t care much about the number of kills. It doesn’t really matter to me."

Since childhood, Kiyoaki had known Ogiya well and often practiced piloting aircraft secretly with him, which made his tone naturally more casual.

"It matters. The number of kills determines a pilot’s status. That’s why false reports are so common..."

Ogiya scratched the back of his head in frustration. After a dogfight, the number of kills was tallied based on the pilot's verbal report to the air command. As a result, dishonest pilots could inflate their kill counts to boost their standing. Although the battle verification planes flew over the battlefield to measure the results, miscounts were frequent. In the end, kill counts were often unreliable.

"But you’re different. From what I’ve seen, you’ve taken down more than seventeen. In just this past month alone, haven’t you surpassed thirty?"

Ogiya’s sharp gaze intensified.

──By my count, it’s thirty-two.

Kiyoaki murmured this in his heart but shook his head.

"Even seventeen is more than enough. I don’t pay it much mind."

"You’re being modest. The top brass at the air command are talking about you, you know. They say we’ve got a really strong officer pilot."

"It’s an overestimation. I’m more surprised they put me on the front lines so quickly."

A week after escaping the Odin fortress with Kagura Murasaki, Kiyoaki was assigned as a Second Lieutenant to the Odessa Air Squadron on Messus Island. After conducting a brief inquiry into the circumstances surrounding the cadet who had been trained in enemy territory, St Vault, the navy command swiftly commissioned him as an officer and sent him to a strategically important stronghold. Kiyoaki couldn’t comprehend their reasoning.

"Well, one reason is that we simply don’t have enough skilled officer pilots. The other reason is… they want you to become a hero quickly. As the son of Master Sergeant Sakagami Masaharu, the hero of the First Multi-Island Sea War, they believe you have that potential."

Ogiya laughed joyfully as he observed Kiyoaki’s troubled expression and gave him a casual pat on the shoulder.

"The higher-ups must be thrilled that their plan worked. It would have been bad if you’d hesitated to shoot down Imperial aircraft, but you’ve been taking them down left and right this past month. You’re not still attached to St Vault, are you?"

"...I’m a soldier. I don’t bring personal feelings into this. I was able to study military science in St Vault thanks to the tax money of Akitsu citizens. Besides, as I was leaving, my squadron commander told me not to hold back in battle."

In the back of Kiyoaki’s mind, the words of Captain Leo Rosenmuller, commander of the Voltec Air Squadron, echoed. His admiration for Leo had not faded.

Ogiya crossed his arms in front of his chest and nodded deeply.

"That’s the spirit of chivalry. There are plenty of admirable soldiers over there, too. But we’re the descendants of samurai; we have to fight proudly."

After sharing his thoughts on the future of the war and the internal affairs of the Odessa Air Squadron, Ogiya stood up.

"Well, I’ve got to get going. You’re done for the day, right? I’ll lend you my bike. Why don’t you go visit the graves?"

"Is that okay?"

"You’ve only gone once, right? Your father might get lonely. Go show him you’re doing well."

"Thank you so much!"

Kiyoaki bowed his head in joy. After leaving the barracks with Ogiya, they came to a military motorcycle covered in dust. Ogiya’s quarters for senior officers weren’t too far away, so he must have brought the bike just for Kiyoaki to use.

After receiving the key and waving at Ogiya’s retreating figure, Kiyoaki mounted the bike and started the engine.

Compared to the beloved bike he used to ride in St Vault, this one had half the displacement, an old engine, and was clearly poorly maintained, but in the Akitsu Federation, it was still a luxury item that most commoners couldn’t afford. As he stepped on the gear, it belched a large cloud of black smoke before it started to move.

Once he got the feel for the shifting, he steered onto the bumpy road and headed toward the old city of Odessa.

The familiar scenery of his homeland passed by on both sides, though signs of destruction were vividly apparent everywhere. The abandoned rice paddies were dried up, and the livestock barns, silos, windmills, and irrigation systems in the gently sloping pastures and farmland were mostly destroyed. The area where a village once stood was now bare, and half-burnt wooden houses stood solitary, with their charred beams sticking out of the ground. Wildflowers clustered beside them, and Kiyoaki stopped the bike to pick some flowers for the graves.

He had spent his childhood on this island, and many colourful, happy memories remained. However, the current state of his homeland, which had become a frontline in the Second Multi-Island Sea War, filled him with an oppressive greyness and the stench of death. The further he rode, the heavier the weight of melancholy settled upon him.

After crossing two mountain passes, he could see the old city in the distance beyond the mountain range. It was about thirty kilometres from the barracks where Kiyoaki was stationed, making it difficult to visit without a vehicle. A month ago, when he had first been assigned to the island, he had hitched a ride on a truck heading to the old city to visit his family's graves, but finding a ride back had been a struggle. The Akitsu Federation military had fewer transport vehicles compared to the St Vault military, and the roads were underdeveloped, making even short trips difficult.

──This country is poor...

Looking at his homeland again through the eyes of someone who had studied in St Vault, the stark reality hit him hard. The appearance of the city, the people's clothing, the infrastructure—everything was inferior to St Vault.

──And the military equipment too...

He couldn’t deny that fact. After spending two years studying abroad in St Vault, forming friendships across borders, and coming to love and respect that country, he still couldn’t erase his love for his homeland.

──Why are we fighting...?

Meeting the people of St Vault had made him realize how simplistic it was to label one side as good and the other as evil. People in both St Vault and Akitsu had good and bad qualities; they were just normal people. Yet, the two nations were pointing across the great divide at each other, branding the other as an evil empire while shouting about their own righteous causes, sending millions of young men to the battlefield.

No matter how much they dress it up with beautiful rhetoric, the true purpose of the war is to bring another country’s government under control. By doing so, they can ensure their own country’s safety, expand their influence, and increase their capital.

In a battlefield where bows and swords were used, the benefits of subjugating and plundering the enemy were substantial. The budget required for war was relatively low, and by seizing the enemy’s wealth, land, and people, the investment would be more than recouped.

But in modern warfare, which requires vast amounts of aircraft, tanks, and weapons of mass destruction, the resources expended are on a completely different scale. Nations must issue government bonds to fund the war, but even if they win, the losses will far outweigh the gains. The national economy, burdened with massive debt, will be driven to collapse.

Both nations are throwing all their resources, wealth, and human lives into the abyss. That’s all Kiyoaki can see.

──What is a nation, anyway...?

Even the grand question of "what is a nation?" crept into his mind. As soon as Kiyoaki realized it, he brushed the doubt away from his thoughts. How could a mere soldier entertain such lofty concerns? He scolded himself.

Right now, he was a soldier fighting for the Akitsu Federation. He had studied in St Vault to bring the knowledge gained back to the Federation, fully aware that one day he might have to face his friends as enemies. Just as he had sworn to Leo and Illia at their parting, Kiyoaki believed the most honourable path was to fight St Vault’s knights head-on, as a proud samurai, with dignity and fairness.

As he descended the winding road in the clear autumn sunlight and passed through the thick grove, he arrived at the coast, where the remains of his family’s home once stood in the old residential district.

Five years ago, when Kiyoaki was fourteen, he had erected a piece of building material in place of a gravestone, which still stood, though it had decayed over time.

The collapsed house was now overgrown with weeds, but the area around the gravestone was still clean from when he had tidied it during his last visit.

The sun was setting, and Kiyoaki’s long shadow stretched over the three gravestones. The sky, on the verge of turning red, sent a silent breeze that softly ruffled his hair.

Kiyoaki stood still, holding the flowers he had picked.

Beneath this ground lay his father, mother, and sister, all killed by Urano.

The frustration and anger of that time, when he could do nothing but watch Urano's attack, returned to him. If only he had possessed the skills to pilot a fighter back then, his family wouldn’t have been lost so easily.

“I’m nineteen now, Dad, Mom, Sister. I’ve become a full-fledged pilot for the Akitsu Federation Air Force.”

As he spoke to the gravestones, a gentle breeze blew through. In the wind, there was a fleeting feeling, as if someone familiar were near.

Upon returning to the Federation, after undergoing practical and academic evaluations, Kiyoaki had been recognized as a full officer pilot. During his time in St Vault, he had only been a cadet, so he had not yet been certified as a pilot, but due to the Akitsu military’s shortage of personnel, they seemed desperate to get new pilots into the battlefield, and Kiyoaki had passed the exam with surprising ease.

“I’ll do my best to ensure that no one living on this island has to suffer the same fate as you, Dad, Mom, or Sister.”

As Kiyoaki spoke to his lost family, he organized his thoughts. The life of a soldier, constantly facing death, had gradually numbed his emotions, making it easy to forget why he had become a soldier in the first place and what he was fighting for.

He knelt, put his hands together in prayer, and wished for his family’s peaceful rest before standing up.

“I’ll come again. I’ll be on this island for a while, so I can visit as often as I like.”

With that farewell, he mounted the bike and left his family’s resting place behind.

There was somewhere else he wanted to go. During his previous visit, he hadn’t had the means of transportation to reach the other important place on this island.

On the way, he passed by what used to be a field of canola flowers. Now overgrown with weeds and unrecognizable, the memory of a girl laughing in the bright summer sun was still vivid behind his eyelids.

“If you become a pilot, you have to take responsibility.”

Wearing a tiara made of canola flowers, the twelve-year-old girl had said that to Kiyoaki.

“Don’t forget the promise! Swear it on this tiara!”

Twelve-year-old Kiyoaki, though shy and hesitant, made a vow to the girl.

“I swear on this tiara, I’ll marry you.”

The promise, made without understanding its meaning, now squeezed his heart with unbearable intensity, seven years later.

As he sped along, he looked up at the sunset sky.

“Mio.”

He called out the name of someone whose whereabouts were now unknown.

“I want to see you.”

The image of Mio, as she had been, enveloped him and blended into the landscape. The longing, the pain, the urge to scream pressed up from his diaphragm, but Kiyoaki suppressed the burning impulse and sped up toward the hilltop.

Once, the Sakagami family’s vineyard had been here. From the hillside, the view of Odessa stretched before him.

He parked the bike on the cracked, barren land and gazed out at his dimming hometown.

Five years ago, two weeks after Urano's sudden assault on Odessa.

Kiyoaki had stood on this very hill with Mio, gazing down at the burned city, and had sworn to dedicate his life to a singular goal.

“I will destroy the Urano, The Sky Clan.”

“I have to obliterate Urano and create a world without war. I will do it with my own hands.”

It was a dream too grand for a fourteen-year-old boy.

But he still held on to that dream.

In fact, it burned more strongly now than it did back then.

And the driving force behind that dream was Mio.

“I will take you back.”

He layered this new resolve onto his lifelong dream.

No matter how long it takes, he would fulfill the promise he made to Mio here on this hill.

“I’ll come to you. Someday, I swear.”

These words of determination rose from a heart that bled from the pain of loss.

──I can’t let things end like this.

──I will go to Pleiades.

──I will burn down the capital of Urano and take Mio back…!

To achieve such a vast dream, there was no choice but to put forth the best effort in the place where he had been assigned and climb the ladder one step at a time. It was slow, but it was the most certain way to reach his goal. Even though he now stood against St Vault, he could still give everything for the sake of that goal.

Bathed in the crimson light of the setting sun, Kiyoaki gazed down at his homeland and reaffirmed the path he must follow.

The next morning, the enemy carrier aircraft launched another raid.

Rushing out of the standby area, they raced to get into their planes first and took off.

Dogfights had become part of the daily routine on the real front lines. Every day, many enemies were shot down, and many allies were shot down in turn. Even the slightest moment of carelessness could be the end of your life. Living on the edge of life and death, with nerves constantly on edge, a single day on the front lines was so intense that it felt like a year compared to living in peace. It was said in hushed tones among the Odessa Air Squadron that if you survived a month, you were considered a veteran. Kiyoaki was approaching that one-month mark.

It felt like years had passed since he was assigned to the squadron. The more he fought with the Odessa Air Squadron, the further his memories of his time in St Vault seemed to fade into the distance.

But there was no time for sentimentality.

There was only one thing to do in this sky.

──I am a machine that shoots down the enemy.

Now, even without conscious thought, that idea filled his mind. There was no room for unnecessary pity or sympathy.

With a calm expression, he crept up under the enemy and cut them down with a single shot from his 20mm cannon.

The enemy pilot probably had no idea what had happened as they were suddenly engulfed in flames.

Piercing through the shattered debris, Kiyoaki soared higher into the sky.

There was no excitement. He simply looked down with cold eyes. One of his allies was being pursued by three Beo-Eagles.

He dove straight down, locked onto the lead plane, which seemed to be the squadron leader, and zoomed in.

He squeezed the trigger of the 20mm cannon, blasting the enemy plane apart, and flew past the wreckage. The remaining enemy planes scattered left and right in confusion, staring at the sudden death of their leader.

Just then, a familiar voice came through the speaker.

“Second Lieutenant Sakagami!! Thank you so much!!”

He could hear a slight western accent in the short message. Glancing to the left, he saw the pilot of the friendly plane that had been pursued waving at him. It was Jadamba Dambazolik, the Second Class Airman who had asked to be his apprentice yesterday. Kiyoaki raised his hand in response, then turned again to search for his next target.

All distractions faded away. Only the pure will to fight sharpened his mind. Kiyoaki became one with his single-seat fighter, the "Murasame," and continued to drive his steel claws into the enemy aircraft.

That day, Kiyoaki shot down four planes. However, the battle verification plane recorded only two confirmed kills for the rookie Second Lieutenant who had returned from St Vault. Kiyoaki, unbothered by this, completed his report and was walking back to the barracks.

“It's been a while, Second Lieutenant Sakagami.”

Suddenly, someone called out to him from behind.

When he turned around, he saw a familiar woman looking at him with a serious expression.

“Ah… It's been a while, Utaguni.”

It was Utaguni Tokiwa, a reporter from one of the major newspapers of the Akitsu Federation, the Akitsu Daily News.

“Thank you for your help the other day. Thanks to you, the article received a great response.”

Wearing glasses and a suit, Utaguni thanked him in a businesslike tone without even a smile.

“…No, not at all.”

Kiyoaki felt uneasy around her. Two years ago, Utaguni had come to interview him at the Air Hunt Officer Academy, but the interview seemed only to push her agenda. She repeatedly asked intrusive questions to Illia, who was present, and eventually, Kiyoaki had to leave the interview with Illia in tow. The article she later wrote exaggerated their mock air battle, presenting it as if it were a proxy war between St Vault and the Akitsu Federation.

“…What brings you here today?”

Kiyoaki asked cautiously, and Utaguni responded coldly, as if it were the most natural thing.

“I’m planning a special feature on you, Second Lieutenant Sakagami. I’ve come to meet with the public relations officer of the Odessa base. I expect to get permission for the interview soon.”

Kiyoaki felt disheartened. He didn’t want to become the subject of one of Utaguni's articles. Naturally, his tone became colder.

“…And what are you planning to do with me this time?”

“I’m just here to document your natural state. The son of a former ace pilot returns to his destroyed hometown and contemplates what it means to fight and kill his foreign friends—that's what the article will focus on.”

Utaguni’s manner of speaking irritated him. Perhaps she was deliberately trying to provoke her subjects in order to expose their true feelings.

“…Feel free. But I’d appreciate it if you didn’t use too much exaggerated language. Excuse me.”

Kiyoaki curtly ended the conversation and turned his back on Utaguni. He felt her cold gaze following him as he walked away, but he didn’t look back.

──I’ve run into someone I really didn’t want to see. I’d rather not get involved with her...

Being the son of the ace pilot Sakagami Masaharu meant that people had excessive expectations of him, which was frustrating. The thought of Utaguni manipulating his image, just as she had before, was also deeply unpleasant. He didn’t want to experience the bitterness of the last interview again, but even if he tried to avoid her, she would likely invade his personal space without hesitation. Having been thrust into the spotlight in St Vault as one of the “Seven of Eriadore,” he understood all too well how relentless the media could be.

What a hassle… As he continued walking, two more young men appeared in front of him, their faces tense with anticipation.

“Second Lieutenant Sakagami!! I can’t express how grateful I am that you saved my life earlier!!”

Dambazolik stood with his back straight, shouting at the top of his lungs, loud enough to hurt Kiyoaki’s ears.

“Second Lieutenant Sakagami is truly our ideal leader!! Please, we humbly request to serve under you as your wingmen!! We’ve come to ask again!!”

Rensuke, his cheeks flushed with excitement, echoed in an unnecessarily loud voice. Feeling uncomfortable, Kiyoaki stopped walking and glanced back. Sure enough, Utaguni was watching them closely, her glasses glinting.

With a sigh, which he made sure the two could hear, Kiyoaki looked at Dambazolik.

“The selection of wingmen is up to Captain Maolong. You should ask him. It’s not something I can decide.”

When he brushed them off, Dambazolik’s face grew even more tense, and he was at a loss for words.

“Second Lieutenant…!! We want to become stronger in the air, that’s our only wish!! If we serve under you, we can refine our skills even more and protect you in battle...!!”

Rensuke spoke desperately, almost pleading. From the way they were acting, Kiyoaki suspected that these two had likely been subjected to unreasonable treatment by their non-commissioned officers.

The Akitsu Federation, true to its name, was a federal state formed by the union of several small nations and communities. In order to counter large countries across the Multi-Island Sea, the cities, small nations, and communities on the same continent chose to coexist under one government. However, the forced unification of so many disparate powers had created various tensions within the military, leading to frequent clashes rooted in ignorance, intolerance, and discrimination.

Broadly speaking, the main groups within the military were the Easterners like Kiyoaki and Ogiya, the Centralites like Colonel Li and Captain Maolong, and the Westerners like Dambazolik. There had been over a thousand years of rivalry between these groups over the continent’s hegemony, and the negative emotions ingrained in their bones had not yet been fully extinguished. Ethnic conflicts stemming from these old grudges often flared up within the military. It was possible that both Dambazolik and Rensuke were frustrated with these tensions. They might have hoped that, since Kiyoaki had returned from St Vault and wasn’t steeped in the bad customs of the Akitsu military, they could train with him purely to improve their dogfighting skills.

“…Sorry, but I don’t have anything to teach you. I’m just trying to survive myself.”

Kiyoaki said coldly, keeping his expression as mechanical as possible.

“P-Please…!!”

“…Please stop this. I don’t want to draw any unwanted attention from my superiors.”

He spoke even more coldly this time and quickly walked away from the two. He could feel their lingering emotions clinging to the back of his neck, but he pushed forward and returned to the officers’ barracks.

He immediately sat down at his desk and opened the flight manual. There was still a mountain of things he needed to study, and he really didn’t have time to deal with Dambazolik and Rensuke.

──Is that all?

As Kiyoaki studied the Akitsu Federation’s unique air combat formation manual, a sudden question arose from within him.

──Is that really the only reason I can't make them my wingmen?

A voice echoed from deep inside, questioning himself.

He looked out the window at the early autumn sky.

He already knew the answer to his own question.

The reason he didn't want to make those two his wingmen wasn’t because it was beyond his authority or because he was too busy studying.

The real reason was something entirely different.

──I don’t want to increase the number of people who matter to me any more…

In this era, in these circumstances, if he were to add more important people to his life, it would only bring more sorrow.

The parting with Mio. The parting with Illia. The parting with Balthazar, Cecil, and Reiner. The parting with his wonderful comrades in the Voltec Air Squadron.

The more he met amazing people, exchanged words, and felt their presence grow heavier in his heart, the deeper and greater the sorrow of parting became. At night, when he was overwhelmed by loneliness, sadness, and the irrationality of it all, his heart would scream, calling out the names of those no longer with him. No matter how far he reached, no matter how loud he shouted, no matter how fast he ran beneath the stars after bursting out of the barracks, he could never reach Mio, Illia, or any of the people who meant so much to him.

He didn’t want to add anyone else important to his life anymore. If he accepted them as his wingmen, before he knew it, those two would surely become important to him. The weight of the people he already held dear would fade, and the weight of the people living right in front of him would grow.

He couldn’t bear that.

He knew it was a sentimental, naïve thought, but within himself, there was no longer room to hold onto anyone irreplaceable. If he were to increase the number of important people, he feared he might push aside those he had once cherished.

That’s why he no longer wanted to actively interact with others. There was no meaning in adding more sources of sadness and loneliness to his heart.

He wanted to be alone as much as possible.

In the Akitsu Federation, there was only one person in his life right now who was truly important to him.

──Kagura.

Of the “Seven of Eriadore,” she was the only one still with him. A dignified, kind swordswoman, who resembled his deceased older sister, Yumiko, who had died before his eyes.

──I hope you’re doing well, Kagura.

As he gazed out the window, Kiyoaki thought of Kagura.

Right after they escaped from the Odin fortress and returned to the Akitsu Federation, a messenger from the imperial family of the Keiken Dynasty had suddenly visited Kagura. She quickly made preparations, smiled at Kiyoaki, saying, "We’ll definitely meet again," and left with the messenger to journey to the imperial capital, "Misato."

No one in the military had been told any details. However, the Keiken Dynasty had been revered for over two thousand years by the Easterners as a “divine family.” Since transitioning to a federation with other ethnicities, they no longer held any real power, existing only as a symbolic representation of the Easterners’ ethnic identity.

Though they had no authority, the imperial family still wielded significant influence over the Easterners. It made Kiyoaki wonder even more about who Kagura truly was, to be summoned by such an important institution.

──I’d heard she was from a samurai family, but maybe her status is much higher than I thought...

Since she was personally summoned by the imperial family, that must be the case. Thinking back now, Kiyoaki regretted how little he actually knew about the person who had always been by his side.

──We’ll meet again, right, Kagura…?

Unlike the comrades he had been separated from in other countries, Kagura was still in the same Akitsu Federation. If he wanted to see her, there was a way. Although he didn’t know what kind of treatment she was receiving within the imperial family, he imagined that, as usual, Kagura was calmly and gracefully navigating her interactions with the nobility. To meet her again, he couldn’t afford to die in the sky. As he swore to himself that he would return safely from tomorrow’s air battle, Kiyoaki turned his gaze from the window back to the flight manual.

The name given to the symbol of hope was "Suzaku".

The 1.4 million citizens of the imperial capital, Misato, poured out into the plazas and streets, looking up at the sky in October, cheering like a rumbling earthquake at the sight of the "Flying Island," which they had only heard about in stories until now.

From the rock formation flying at an altitude of 2,000 meters, a shower of colourful confetti rained down, adding to the triumph of the procession. Numerous aircraft and airships formed a protective formation around it. Once called "Balsinos" when it belonged to Urano, the fortress had now been renamed "Suzaku", serving as the guardian deity of the Akitsu Federation and boosting the morale of the people.

The massive rock formation, 28 kilometres long and 15 kilometres wide, soared through the autumn sky, its propulsion system roaring thunderously. The citizens openly expressed their excitement, clapping and shouting "banzai" at this new hope born in the sky, while casting their eyes down to the ground, where prisoners from Urano and St Vault, crammed into the backs of dozens of trucks, were subjected to jeers and ridicule.

“Serves you right, you cowardly wretches!”

“Shame on you, savages!”

“All traitors must be killed!”

It wasn’t just words—they threw small stones from the roadside as well. The Urano and St Vault prisoners, who had been fighting each other just two months ago, were now packed together in the same trucks, heads bowed as they endured the Akitsu people's stones. The unprecedented three-way battle fought over Messus Island, Odessa, and the flying fortress Balsinos had ended in victory for the Akitsu Federation, leveraging their geographical advantage. The captured Balsinos was intact, with neither its rudder nor propulsion systems destroyed, and the Urano crew was now being interrogated to study how to operate it. If this massive flying island could be deployed with full combat capability to the front lines, the dream of dominating the Multi-Island Sea would no longer seem far-fetched. The excitement among the Akitsu people knew no bounds.

“Destroy Urano!”

“Make St Vault surrender!”

“The Multi-Island Sea belongs to the Akitsu people! Drive out the foreign invaders!”

The crowd roared with bold declarations. Two months had passed since the start of the Second Multi-Island Sea War, and the Federation's war spirit was only rising. The three main ethnic groups—Easterners, Centralites, and Westerners—who didn’t usually get along well, were now united in their resistance against the white-skinned people from across the sea. With the imposing sight of "Suzaku" above them, the citizens spread words of bravery as if they had already won the war.

Meanwhile, in the heart of the frenzied imperial capital, Misato, a vast, cool forest stood quietly, marking out a 2.5-kilometer circular boundary. Viewed from Suzaku above, it would appear as a dark green cushion in the midst of a grey carpet of buildings. If one looked closely, they could see a concentric structure with both outer and inner walls nestled within the deep forest.

The first moat, filled with vibrant water, the high stone walls, and white-plastered fences winding like a labyrinth, along with over ten lookout towers placed at every turn, eventually led to a magnificent main palace—the residence of the Keiken Dynasty.

A short distance from the main palace, beyond a garden blooming with hundreds of flowers, lay the most secluded corner of the imperial residence, with an inner palace by an artificial pond filled with clear water.

The wing of the residence extended over the pond in a raised-floor style, with the water shimmering underneath. Kagura Murasaki, dressed in the military uniform of the Akitsu Federation, was sitting formally within the wing, her eyes closed.

Her uniform, predominantly black, clung to her skin. Silver braiding adorned her chest, a red stripe ran down her shoulder insignia, and a swallow motif decorated the red badge on her high-collared uniform.

It was the formal attire of the Keiken Guard Division, charged with protecting the imperial family.

This elite independent combat unit, which was not under the direct command of the Akitsu Federation military, operated on its own, tasked with a singular mission: to protect the Keiken Dynasty. The unit consisted of four heavy airships, one hundred intercept fighters, and 13,000 ground troops. The uniform Kagura wore signified her belonging to the most elite bodyguard unit of the Keiken Guard, the Shinmei Corps, responsible for the personal protection of the imperial family.

The stillness within the pavilion over the water was serene. The cries of a wagtail bird echoed through the island in the pond, deepening the silence. A cool breeze, carrying the scent of fresh water, passed through the open-air pavilion, causing the tied-up hair at the back of Kagura's head to gently sway. Despite this, Kagura remained motionless, her eyes still closed in deep meditation.

Then, a voice came from behind her.

“Does that look like hope to you?”

Kagura opened her eyes.

Reflected on her retinas was the majestic sight of Suzaku flying in the distant sky. The owner of the voice didn’t wait for a reply and walked past Kagura, all the way to the edge of the wooden platform, turning around with Suzaku towering behind him in the sky.

Dressed in a jet-black military uniform with two golden braids and a large Sakura Order of Merit on his left chest, with a single golden stripe on his shoulder—the formal attire of the Commander of the Imperial Guard Division.

“To me, it looks like a harbinger of destruction.”

His voice was somewhat high-pitched, refined, and carried a deep tone of sorrow. His pale, androgynous face, with eyes that slanted nervously upwards, paired with his slicked-back hair parted in a 7:3 ratio, made him seem older than his 22 years, weighed down by a bitter expression.

Kagura placed both hands on the floor and bowed deeply.

“Forgive my presumption, but I share your sentiments.”

She spoke her frank words into the wooden floor.

The Crown Prince of the Keiken Dynasty, Daitoku Shinnou, furrowed his brows in sorrow as he looked down at Kagura.

“You studied in St Vault, so you must understand the power of that country. Do you think we can win this war?”

Knowing that the Crown Prince sought nothing but honest words from her, Kagura answered without hesitation.

“It is impossible to win.”

“Is there no way to stop it?”

“The dam has burst. The water that has spilled cannot be put back.”

“Does that mean the people of Akitsu are doomed to perish?”

Kagura couldn’t lightly respond to the prince’s words.

“I know this, yet why can I do nothing?”

The prince’s voice, filled with frustration, reflected his anguish over his own powerlessness. Unlike the days before the Federation, the Keiken Dynasty now held no real political power. Despite realizing the impending national crisis, the prince was helpless, merely a figurehead without the ability to influence decisions, a fact that gnawed at him.

──You are a kind person.

──Too kind, and it isolates you…

The prince’s pacifist attitude had alienated him from the military.

While there was still a Federal Parliament, it had become mostly irrelevant. The real power now lay in the hands of the military. Threats and intimidation by young officers toward politicians had become commonplace, and in some cases, they even stormed private residences to carry out assassinations. The unchecked acts of the military, which would normally be prohibited, were justified under the guise of wartime. Politicians, powerless against the military’s overreach, continued to pass laws supporting the war effort, placing heavier taxes on the Federation’s citizens. Though the people suffered under poverty, the tightly controlled media broadcast the message that "St Vault and Urano are to blame for this hardship," redirecting the public’s resentment toward foreign nations.

From the prince’s vantage point, he could see the entire foolish structure of this war. That was why his frustration festered, and his words, though futile, spilled out.

“Speaking of fraternity seems meaningless. In this age, when everyone worships violence…”

He looked up at Suzaku, which was leisurely passing over the imperial capital, and his lamentation continued. Kagura, determined to support him in silence, listened to his words. From childhood, Daitoku Shinnou had trusted Kagura as his "sparring partner," someone he could show his true self to, unlike the other retainers.

After finishing his bitter reflections on the world and his place in it, the prince gestured to Kagura.

“I’ve complained enough. You’re the only one I can say these things to... Let’s begin.”

“As you wish.”

Kagura stood before the prince, crossed the pavilion, passed through the corridor, and entered a 20-square-meter wooden training hall.

In one corner of the room was a sword rack, holding bamboo swords, wooden swords, and real blades. Spears and naginata with sharpened edges were also displayed on the wall. With familiar ease, they both opened sliding doors to separate rooms, changed into their training attire, and returned to the hall with wooden swords.

They bowed to each other at the starting line, and both took up a proper seigan stance with their wooden swords.

Neither of them wore any protective gear on their heads or arms. They were simply clad in white tops and indigo hakama. A full-strength blow could easily cause injury, but they struck with their wooden swords without hesitation.

Kagura showed no mercy. Each strike she brought down was powerful enough to shatter the bones of an ordinary person.

The prince, too, cast off his earlier feeble demeanour from the pavilion. With sharp, practiced steps, he closed in on Kagura, delivering strikes filled with fierce intensity and battle-hardened skill. Though slim, his body was honed, his muscles strong, and his movements quick and powerful like a leopard. His swordsmanship, refined through years of training, was rough yet precise, reminiscent of ancient sword masters.

Between the two, all differences in rank and status had been stripped away.

In this moment, only the pure focus of the sword existed.

They had been honing their skills together since Kagura was seven and the prince was nine.

During the time they wielded their swords here, they were able to forget everything they were born into and exist simply as fellow swordsmen.

The Murasaki family had, for over a thousand years, been a hidden yet noble family that protected the Keiken Dynasty from the shadows.

As instructors in the royal family's swordsmanship, commanders of the Shinmei Corps, and “enforcers” for tasks that could not be made public, the Murasaki family had fulfilled many roles. Though unknown to the world, they were the only warrior clan officially sanctioned by the Keiken Dynasty to guard the palace as samurai. This was the family Kagura was born into.

About twelve years ago, at the request of Daitoku Shinnou, Kagura, who was close in age to the prince, was chosen as his training companion. The head of the Murasaki family and the elders had rigorously taught Kagura how to conduct herself in the palace so as not to offend the prince. However, the two quickly became close friends, disregarding their difference in status, and soon they were competing fiercely, driven by a shared desire to improve and defeat each other in swordsmanship.

Even now, when they were in the inner palace, the prince and Kagura were simply fellow swordsmen, rivals, and childhood friends.

“I yield,” Kagura declared, glancing up at the prince's sword, which had stopped just an inch from her forehead.

They both returned to the starting line, bowed to each other, and wiped the sweat from their faces with cloths.

“Has your sword dulled after your time in St Vault?” the prince asked, teasingly. Kagura could only respond with a wry smile.

“I struggled to find a decent training partner.”

“It seems that way. Next time, I’ll be your instructor.”

“I would be honoured.”

Kagura responded with a light-hearted joke, though she couldn't shake her frustration.

“One more round, please.”

“Very well. The last one wasn’t enough.”

The prince retorted sarcastically and took his position at the starting line again. Knowing each other’s stubborn competitiveness, they both knew from the beginning that a single match wouldn’t be enough.

For about an hour, they continued exchanging blows with unrelenting focus. In that time, the weight of the roles and statuses they had been forced to bear, along with the cruelty of the times, was forgotten—if only for a moment—as they wielded their swords against one another, friends bound by the grip of their weapons.

Toaru Hikuushi e no Seiyaku:V6Part3

2025-12-05T02:27:33Z

QCore:

Part 17 (Part 3 of Volume 6)

As Mio Syira gazed up at the twinkling stars, she inhaled the crisp night air deeply, raising her hands towards the sky. She felt something gentle and warm descend from beyond the stars, and she reached out to capture it, pressing it into her heart, which often felt as if it might freeze over.

In the early days of October in the 1349th year of the Imperial Calendar, at the Lamia Palace in Pleiades, the capital of Uranos:

Three months had passed since the return of the Kai Andros fleet, which had dominated the sky over the capital.

Although not immediately apparent, something had undeniably changed since that day.

Mio lifted her gaze to the dome-topped structure at the peak of the round tower.

A girl stood alone, her hands placed over the pendant hanging from her neck, staring intently up at the zenith.

This was Mio's current mistress.

The one who would inherit Uranos.

Nina Viento.

It was a windless night. The moon in the southern sky outlined the "Wind-Calling Girl" against the silver-flecked stars, making her stand out against the night sky.

Though it appeared as if Nina was offering a prayer to the stars, this was not the case.

This was training.

Nina was honing her "power," working to refine her control over it.

She wasn't merely standing there; Nina was quieting her mind, descending deeper into her consciousness, listening to the voices only she could hear.

──She's drawing in the words of the wind…

At least, that's how it appeared to Mio.

Ever since that strange long-distance communication through the pendant three months ago, Nina had dedicated herself to this nightly training without fail.

But the wind remained unchanged. The mysterious atmospheric flow known as "Wind Calling" had yet to manifest.

Mio had never once seen Nina successfully control the wind. On the contrary, Nina would often collapse from exhaustion, which was why Mio always stayed by her side during these sessions.

"Ah…"

A gasp escaped Mio as Nina swayed like a top about to fall. Mio quickly ran up the sloped dome and caught Nina's collapsing body.

"Nina!!"

Supporting her from behind, Mio gently lowered her to the ground, cradling her in her arms. Nina's teeth were chattering, and her limbs trembled in small spasms. Thin veins surfaced along her neck, and Mio could feel the cold sweat soaking through Nina’s blouse.

"…Nn…"

Nina weakly waved her hand, as if trying to ward off something unseen. It was clear she was frightened by something invisible to Mio.

"Nina, hold on! Nina!!"

Mio called out urgently as she carried Nina from the dome, through the balcony, and back to Nina’s quarters.

Inside the small curtained-off section of the room, Mio laid Nina on the simple bed and took her hand.

Nina’s lips were as blue as if they had been submerged in icy water, and her entire body continued to tremble. Mio covered her with a blanket, rubbing Nina’s hands and cheeks while calling her name in desperation.

Nina muttered incoherently, seemingly fighting against something unseen. She barked out fragmented orders as if commanding someone, then let out a short scream, contorting her face in pain.

"Nina!! Nina!!"

After repeated calls, Nina’s pale, grape-coloured eyes finally fluttered open.

"Mio…"

"Nina, are you alright…?"

Nina’s face was pale as a corpse, and Mio couldn’t help but press Nina’s hand to her own cheek in worry.

"…Yes… I’m fine."

Nina spoke with fragile resolve, but there was little life left in her voice.

"You shouldn’t push yourself…"

"…No… I’m alright now. It's gone…"

Still lying down, Nina offered a small, brave smile. She was trying to act strong, but her current condition made her look more like a patient than anything else.

Mio felt the urge to cry. She couldn’t help but feel sorry for Nina.

"…Is this training… truly necessary? It feels like the more you push yourself, the worse your condition becomes…"

Mio couldn't help but voice her concerns. This training had been going on for three months now, but Nina's collapses had only become more frequent with each passing day.

"It’s just… how it works. The strain on my body and mind has certainly increased, but that also means I’m getting closer to hearing the wind’s voice…"

Mio didn’t fully understand, but Nina had explained before that to control the wind, one had to align their consciousness with the wind itself. While Nina had been able to do this effortlessly as a child, as she grew older, she now required active effort—what she referred to as "prayer"—to maintain the power of "Wind Calling."

However, in the process of this "prayer," there were times when Nina would inadvertently connect with something else—something "bad." These malevolent forces would invade her, trying to control her instead. Each time this happened, Nina had to fight to expel them from her mind, a process that took a great toll on both her body and spirit. The severity of these battles was evident in the symptoms she exhibited after collapsing.

Every time she trained, Nina was forced to engage in an invisible struggle with these ghosts, battling alone without anyone to help her, risking her sanity in the process.

──Does she really need to carry this burden?

──For whom?

Mio couldn’t understand. Nina's power didn’t seem to bring her any happiness; if anything, it appeared to be a source of suffering.

According to Ignacio, when Nina was aboard the flying island Isla, she had many friends. Though she had been emotionally closed off due to being used politically from a young age, meeting those companions had brought some youthful light to her face. But Nina had used her "Wind Calling" power to protect Isla, which had led to her being recognized by Uranos as the "prophesied Savior of the Myths of the World" and forcibly brought to Pleiades. To ensure her friends could continue their journey, Nina had no choice but to sacrifice herself. Since then, for over four years, she had been confined in this lonely palace under the guise of being a goodwill ambassador.

──It’s too sad.

The happiness she had known was far too brief, and she had been forced to give it up because of her power. If not for that power, she could have lived as an ordinary girl, free from this suffering. Yet here she was, clinging desperately to the very power that was causing her such harm.

──Who is it all for?

As Mio stroked Nina’s hand, these soundless questions echoed in her heart.

Just then, the fluttering of wings filled the room. An old friend had come to visit. Mio pulled back the curtain of the small enclosure.

It was Fio, who alighted gracefully on Mio’s shoulder, gazing down at Nina and letting out a soft chirp.

Nina smiled weakly.

"Fio, don’t worry about me."

The wise little bird chirped softly in response to Nina’s voice. Mio touched Fio’s beak with her fingertip.

"Fio likes Nina too. He’s very selective about who he gets close to…"

Still lying on the bed, Nina cast a wistful gaze at Fio.

"…Such a curious bird. It’s almost as if he understands human speech…"

"I think he does understand. I’ve had Fio with me since I was a child, and I’ve seen moments like that many times."

Nina sat up slightly, now gazing directly at Fio with rare interest.

"…May I hear more about that?"

It was unusual for Nina to ask such a question. Perhaps her extraordinary powers had attuned her to something in Fio’s unique nature.

Choosing her words carefully, Mio began to speak.

"When I was a child, we moved to an island in the countryside, and I didn’t have any friends. So as a joke, I asked Fio to find me one. He flew off, and when I followed him, I found him sitting on top of a boy’s head. That boy… he became my friend."

As memories of meeting Kiyoaki surfaced, Mio smiled softly. She had originally asked Fio to find her "the person she was destined to be with," but she left that part out, feeling embarrassed.

"Fio became very attached to him too. After that, whenever I asked Fio to go find him, he would always fly to that boy…"

Listening quietly, Nina gazed at Fio, then raised her hand toward him.

Without hesitation, Fio hopped onto Nina’s finger and climbed up her arm to perch on her shoulder.

"Is that so… Perhaps he really can understand our words."

As Nina closed her eyes and tilted her head slightly, Fio nestled against her cheek, as if comforting her.

"I have a feeling that someday, Fio will help you, Mio… I just have that sense."

Nina said those words, then lay back down on her bed. Mio stayed by her side, placing Fio gently on her own shoulder, waiting until Nina had fallen asleep.

Once Nina was asleep, Mio lit a candle and descended the spiral staircase.

It was clear to anyone that Nina’s strength was being drained with every session of this intense training. As Mio tried to puzzle out why Nina would go to such lengths to maintain her power to summon the wind, only one answer seemed plausible.

—The succession of the Uranos throne…

—Nina intends to become the Queen of Uranos...

The thought had first crossed Mio's mind after hearing a certain phrase.

"The Second Isla Fleet will be utterly destroyed."

Three months ago, when Ignacio had made this grim declaration, Nina had turned pale, her legs trembling uncontrollably. At the time, Mio hadn’t fully understood what was happening, but from the snippets of conversation, she had deduced that someone named "Kal" had set sail with a fleet to rescue Nina, yet it seemed that their forces were insufficient to defeat Uranos.

—Perhaps Nina plans to become the Queen of Uranos to save Kal.

—Is that why she is clinging so fiercely to her "Wind-Calling" power?

As Mio formed this hypothesis, a wave of sadness washed over her.

Kal had gathered a great fleet to save Nina.

Nina, in turn, was preparing to ascend to the throne to save Kal.

—They’re both acting out of love for one another…

—But what will the outcome be…?

For some reason, Mio had an oMisatous feeling that it wouldn’t end well. Instead, it seemed more likely that something terrible would come of it.

It was as if some cruel god governing this world had designed the current situation with the intent to make both of them suffer. This unfounded anxiety burst into Mio’s heart, leaving her uneasy.

—Am I just being mean-spirited…?

Mio shook her head, trying to dispel the dark thoughts. Maybe it was because her own fate had been manipulated cruelly, forcing her to abandon the bonds of the "Seven of Eriadore." Perhaps she was unconsciously projecting her own pessimism onto the fates of others.

"I’m a terrible person…" she muttered to herself, stopping the unhelpful speculation. After all, this was merely her own baseless conjecture. She was nothing more than a simple attendant, and she had no right to meddle in the lives of those of higher status. She should focus solely on carrying out the tasks Zenon assigned her.

—Papa, Mama, Kazuki, Dominic, Bonita.

—We’ll meet again someday. Please wait for me.

Zenon had been searching for Mio's family, who had gone missing in the chaos of war. As long as Zenon kept his word, there was still a flicker of hope. That was all Mio needed to concern herself with.

—All I need to do is avoid displeasing Zenon. That’s it.

Mio repeated this to herself, pushing all other thoughts aside, as she made her way back to the servants' quarters.

Oratorio District, Right Bank of the Uranos Capital, Pleiades—

If the Evangelis District on the left bank served as the urban centre of Pleiades, then the Oratorio District on the right bank was its military hub. It housed the Ministry of Military Affairs, responsible for overseeing military governance and operations. In the adjacent skyscrapers, the Unified Operations Headquarters was located, effectively serving as the brain of all Uranos military power.

Within this district, Zenon Kavaris, an officer of Uranos’ Intelligence Department, who officially held the title of Undersecretary of the Ministry of Foreign Affairs, gazed out of a seventh-floor window at the towering buildings in the distance. Behind him, a subordinate—having fled his post—was nervously explaining his failure.

“...And thus, the operation at the flying fortress Odin became unsustainable. Rather than risk capture, I chose to escape, deploying a parachute to descend into the sea from the edge of the fortress.”

The subordinate’s voice strained to maintain composure, but bitterness was evident in his tone. Zenon continued to face the window, listening silently to the justification, until the man finished speaking. Then, slowly, Zenon turned to face him, offering a smile to the subordinate he had painstakingly trained.

"You're useless garbage."

His tone was as gentle as if he were admiring a flower.

For a brief moment, Hachidori’s face tensed, but he kept his gaze fixed upward, not daring to meet Zenon’s eyes.

"I have no hobby of keeping worthless trash around. Do you have any idea how much time, manpower, and budget was spent infiltrating you into the St Vault military?"

“...I apologize,” Hachidori responded, his voice low with shame.

Zenon’s smile didn’t waver as he continued. "You’re demoted to the lowest rank of the S-Class operatives—Patriotis. For the time being, you’ll be assigned tasks even an idiot could handle. It's clear that covert operations were beyond you."

The S-Class agents Zenon had groomed—called "Patriotis"—were ranked. Hachidori, previously fourth in rank, had plummeted to the bottom, branded as the "most incompetent" among his peers.

As Zenon observed Hachidori’s hands trembling from humiliation, he took a perverse satisfaction in the agent's suffering.

—I want to make him cry.

There was no reason for it. Breaking Hachidori wouldn’t improve the mission’s outlook, but the thought of crushing his pride and watching his reaction amused Zenon.

He addressed Hachidori’s pale face with an insult.

"Hey, you spineless coward."

“……………………”

"Did my hearing suddenly go bad?"

“...Yes, sir.”

"I have a task even a worm like you can manage. You know Mio Syira, correct?"

“...Yes, sir.”

"Mio is currently working to establish a personal connection with Nina Viento. She’s been quite successful—gaining Nina’s trust in just a few months. She’s even blended seamlessly into Lamia Palace, earning the favour of the guards. Unlike you."

“...Yes, sir.”

“Nina will soon be considered for the Uranos throne. The Demistri faction is becoming active in opposition. You will be sent to Lamia Palace under the guise of an old friend of Mio, to protect Nina.”

"Protect...Nina Viento?"

"Nina has a dedicated guard, yes. But if the Demistri faction makes their move, I have doubts about their ability to handle it. They may be adequate in open combat, but against agents like you, they wouldn’t stand a chance."

Standard military training and the specialized training of agents were fundamentally different. Soldiers excelled in frontal combat, while operatives like Hachidori were skilled in more subtle means—such as poisoning food.

“While you’re there, you will also train Mio as an operative. She’s one of my Favorites, and I intend to make her my personal plaything. However, I don’t have the time to educate her myself, so you will do it.”

“...Yes, sir.”

“Don’t destroy her spirit. Her charm lies in her personality. You must maintain her bright demeanour and intelligence while implanting the necessary skills."

"Yes, sir."

Hachidori stared blankly ahead, his emotions concealed, but Zenon could sense the simmering anger deep inside him.

Of the one hundred initial candidates, only eight had survived the gruelling selection process to become S-Class agents. Hachidori’s pride as an elite operative was immense, and being relegated to mere training duties was a bitter humiliation.

—humiliation is the best way to motivate the incompetent.

—Let fear of failure seep into his bones.

With an inner smirk, Zenon gave the final order.

“Leave tomorrow. And don’t show your face to me again unless I give you permission.”

“...Yes, sir.”

Hachidori clicked his heels, standing at attention, then left the office.

“Don’t fail again, you useless coward,” Zenon sneered at the closed door, reclining in his chair and staring at the ceiling.

After venting his frustrations on his subordinate, Zenon turned to his work.

The desk in front of him was piled high with documents.

From the Southern Archipelago, to Balesteros, the Holy Spring, the Kai Andros region, and Levamme—information about the world’s many domains, where Uranos was expanding its influence, was stacked before him.

—A treasure trove.

Zenon relished the thought as he sifted through intelligence reports compiled by Uranos’ intelligence officers and meticulously verified by analysis teams.

The thrill of holding in his hands information that others couldn’t even dream of knowing—the kind of knowledge that allowed him to survey the entire globe—was intoxicating. While the leaders of other nations were unaware of each other’s existence or the true shape of the world, Zenon had a bird's-eye view of it all.

—This is the privilege of the Uranos elite.

Uranos’ primary strategic goal was to maintain the isolation of various regions from one another.

By preventing information from spreading while monopolizing it for themselves, Uranos ensured that their grip on the world remained unchallenged. The flying fortresses patrolled the skies, seeking out exploratory fleets from other nations and eliminating them before they could return home, preventing any knowledge of Uranos from spreading.

In this way, while other nations remained ignorant of each other’s existence, Uranos steadily consolidated its power.

—That’s why this is necessary.

Zenon glanced at the piles of documents on his desk.

To him, this classified information was as exquisite as a fine wine. He savoured its quality, internalizing every detail.

Zenon Kavaris had recently ascended to the role of Chief of Uranos Intelligence, a promotion earned just three months ago following the death of King Ortega of Uranos. His prior position had been Director of the Multi-Island Sea Department, but with the increasing importance of Nina Viento, the credit for bringing her to Uranos secured his rise. Now, Zenon held the critical role of overseeing all intelligence on the world's surface nations. Simultaneously, he also served as a member of Chrono Magos, an influential council operating beyond the boundaries of Uranos. This group, composed of key figures from politics, business, and finance, primarily in the Multi-Island Sea region, manipulated international markets. In essence, it was a transnational network of merchants with the power to topple an advanced nation into financial chaos if they so desired. Zenon masterfully utilized his authority as head of Uranos Intelligence to further Chrono Magos’ interests.

Why did he do it?

—Because it was fun.

Basking in the infinite sea of information, Zenon revelled in his euphoria. If he could live like this forever, that would be enough. When bored, he amused himself by tormenting subordinates, sabotaging political enemies, or finding bright, innocent girls untouched by the world's filth, manipulating them until he could break them and turn them into his personal playthings.

Zenon had no ambition for power—no dreams, no goals, and no hope for a better future.

—Dreams and goals are the path to self-destruction.

Dreams and hopes inevitably attract obstacles and enemies. The larger the dream, the thicker and higher the walls that stand in the way. Moreover, humans are never satisfied with their current state. Even after overcoming challenges and achieving their dreams, their hearts remain unsated. Satisfaction, if it comes at all, lasts only a fleeting week, and then a new hunger arises. Desires, by their very nature, are self-replicating. Those who attain their dreams soon find themselves pursuing new ones, facing fresh walls to scale, either bleeding to surpass them or falling broken along the way.

—An utter waste of effort.

The key to navigating life wisely is to avoid clinging to such things.

—Never expect anything from this world.

—Do not have dreams or hopes from the outset.

—Simply float along, and enjoy what drifts by.

Zenon believed in flowing with life’s current, floating on the surface, enjoying each passing moment, resisting the temptation to pursue some higher purpose.

—Principles are unnecessary.

—What is needed is stability.

All that mattered was securing the conditions that guaranteed his current position, punctuating those efforts with the occasional amusement. That was enough.

Zenon had a family—an intelligent, beautiful young wife and three talented children. Though he rarely returned home and their relationship had long gone cold, from the outside, it appeared to be the perfect family. Zenon felt no love for them. He maintained the facade of a family man, using his position to manipulate those around him for his amusement. As long as life remained entertaining, he had no complaints.

—What I must prioritize now...

A glint of eerie light shone behind Zenon’s glasses.

—Nina Viento and Demistri.

—No matter who claims the throne, my position must remain unshaken.

He reaffirmed this to himself.

The successor to the throne would be decided in two months during the Holy Aldista Nativity Festival. Currently, two factions vied for control: the radicals supporting Nina Viento and the conservatives backing Demistri. Both camps were vying for influence, engaging in fierce battles both publicly and behind the scenes, each hoping to secure their standing post-coronation.

Zenon, however, had no intention of taking sides.

Getting involved in a royal power struggle might invite disaster. The key was to observe from the sidelines, waiting for the right moment to jump onto the prevailing current.

—Therefore, careful orchestration is necessary.

"Atori. Renjaku."

He called into the empty air, and two shadows appeared silently in his office.

One was tall and slender, with long hair tied at the back. The other was a small man, sharp-eyed and exuding an aura of agility.

Without turning to face them, Zenon issued his orders.

“Renjaku, guard Prince Demistri. Neutralize any assassins sent by Nina Viento’s faction, and gather information on the conservatives."

“Yes, sir,” replied Renjaku, the number two among the S-Class agents, known as the Patriotis.

“Atori, guard Pope Illustriali. Investigate the inner workings of the Aldista Papacy and report everything to me."

“Yes, sir,” answered Atori, the number one agent. Pope Illustriali was a key figure in the faction pushing for Nina Viento’s coronation. His actions would undoubtedly play a pivotal role in determining the outcome of the succession.

"Go."

At Zenon’s command, the two shadows disappeared from the room as silently as they had come.

Zenon smirked as he turned to the now-empty office. Not even Hachidori could detect the presence of Atori and Renjaku. Once they infiltrated a location, no secret would remain hidden from Zenon’s grasp.

—Obtaining the strengths and weaknesses of both camps is crucial.

—I’ll drip-feed them valuable information, keeping both sides dancing and indebted to me.

—No matter who ascends to the throne, I will remain at the heart of power...

Confirming this to himself, Zenon let a euphoric smile creep across his face as he returned to his documents, savouring the secrets of the world alone.

Hachidori stood in the hallway, enduring the curious, mocking gaze of Kiliai, Patriotis No. 6, whom he had accidentally encountered. Worst-case scenarios had a tendency to pile up, and this was one of them. There was no point in resisting the flood of misfortune. Instead, he reminded himself to endure—never to lash out emotionally or resort to force, as it would only worsen his position.

"Well, well, back already, huh? You finished your job that quick?" Kiliai said with a cheerfulness that was almost infuriating for an S-Class agent of the Patriotis. She patted Hachidori's right shoulder with a roughness that felt intentionally demeaning.

"Why the long face, like you ate something rotten? Did you pick up something off the street, or what?"

"…"

"The boss told me everything—your infiltration mission failed, huh? Now you're bumped down to No. 8? That makes me No. 5 now, so guess what? You'll have to listen to me from now on!"

Kiliai's voice was playful, but the undercurrent of mockery was impossible to miss. In the world of the Patriotis, rank was everything. Hachidori had just been demoted, and now he was beneath Kiliai in the hierarchy, bound to obey her.

—I'll kill you, you pest.

Hachidori swallowed his murderous thoughts, his gaze lowering to meet his colleague's gloating face. Kiliai’s short, boyish haircut, her bright, darting red eyes, and her incessantly moving mouth—she looked like any ordinary girl from the outside. But the truth was far more dangerous: Kiliai was an expert in poisons, unrivalled in her knowledge of their effects and remedies. If she so much as scratched you, you'd better be prepared for death.

—Of all people, why did it have to be her?

Hachidori inwardly cursed his luck, while Kiliai continued to prattle on.

"Oh, and by the way, Atori and Renjaku are back from Harmonia. Unlike you, they actually completed their mission. Have you bumped into them yet?"

At the mention of Atori and Renjaku—Patriotis’s top two agents—Hachidori felt a cold chill run through him.

"They’re in Pleiades?"

"Yeah, you might run into them. Just watch your mouth and attitude, or you might get beaten down again."

"…"

The bitter taste of old memories seeped into Hachidori's thoughts. Kiliai had a way of digging into his deepest scars, and he hated her for it.

"People have to know their limits," she said with a smile. "Push too far, and you'll end up getting crushed, just like last time. They don't mess around, you know."

Hachidori’s mind flashed back to his childhood days, during the gruelling training that had shaped them into Patriotis agents. Back then, his pride had driven him to challenge Atori and Renjaku—and he had been beaten nearly to death for it.

He hadn’t even landed a blow. Before he could comprehend what was happening, they had pinned him to the ground and broken his fingers, one by one.

"Cry."

That had been Atori’s only command. Hachidori had endured it for as long as he could, but when Atori moved to break his thumb, nine-year-old Hachidori had finally cried out for mercy.

Then, it had been Renjaku’s turn. Despite his broken hand, Hachidori had tried to fight, but Renjaku deflected every blow and countered with brutal precision.

Renjaku had pummelled him until he collapsed, ribs broken and lungs punctured. Hachidori had cried and begged for the beating to stop, and when it finally did, he had been left lying in a heap, his face swollen beyond recognition. His fellow Patriotis had watched, some with pity, others with amusement, as he lay there humiliated.

"I remember that tear-streaked face of yours. It was hilarious," Kiliai said, her laughter filled with mockery. "Honestly, you should be glad you’re still alive. They could’ve killed you."

Hachidori's hands twitched involuntarily, forming into claws as he imagined crushing her throat. But he knew better—Kiliai was dangerous, her body likely laced with poisons.

"You staying around here for a while?" Kiliai asked, oblivious to the dark thoughts crossing Hachidori’s mind. "Well, don't mess up again. Two failures in a row, and we’re done for. No joke."

She waved nonchalantly and walked away, heading toward Zenon's office to receive her next assignment.

"…Poison witch," Hachidori muttered under his breath as he turned away. The encounter had dredged up memories he had hoped to forget.

—Forget them. These colleagues are nothing.

The Patriotis agents worked alone most of the time, rarely crossing paths. Even when they did, there was little reason to acknowledge one another. They had no camaraderie—Kiliai’s chattiness was the exception, not the norm. And if Zenon ordered it, Kiliai wouldn’t hesitate to poison him, either. Friendship, even the faintest sense of loyalty, was non-existent.

—Unlike the "Seven of Eriadore."

—They vowed eternal friendship, even if their nations became enemies.

The thought briefly crossed Hachidori's mind, but he quickly shoved it aside. Comparing officer cadets' naive friendships to the Patriotis was absurd. For soldiers, friendship might be an asset, but for special agents like him, it was a liability—a tool for manipulation, nothing more.

—Don’t be stupid. You’re getting soft.

He scolded himself and refocused.

Tomorrow, he would head to Lamia Palace for his new assignment—guarding Nina Viento and training Mio.

Failure was not an option. If Nina were assassinated, Hachidori’s reputation as "useless" would be cemented, and his life would be forfeit. Zenon had likely sent other Patriotis agents to guard Prince Demistri, which meant Hachidori might have to face Atori or Renjaku. The Patriotis had no loyalty to one another—Zenon could command them to kill each other with a snap of his fingers. Their sole loyalty was to him.

—Stay sharp. Stay focused. No more failures.

—Train Mio and protect Nina Viento’s life at all costs.

With renewed determination, Hachidori left the Uranos Intelligence Headquarters, knowing that his survival depended on success.

The next day—

After reading the introduction letter from Zenon, Ulshyrra, the countess handling external affairs at Lamia Palace, fixed her cold, mechanical gaze on Reiner Beck, also known as Hachidori.

“We already have seasoned Royal Guards assigned to Lady Nina's protection.”

Reiner flashed a casual smile and gave a prepared answer.

“Well, our boss is the cautious type, you see. We can't afford anything to happen to Lady Nina before the December Holy Festival. I'll be protecting her in my own way, so as long as the guards don’t mind me, it’s all good.”

“And how can we be sure you won’t harm her?”

“If you’re worried about my character, feel free to ask Mio. We’ve been together since our days at Air Hunt Academy, so she knows me well. Besides, our boss was the one who brought Lady Nina to Pleiades in the first place. It’d be a huge win for us if she ascends to the throne, so we’re committed to protecting her. That’s why I was sent—pretty simple.”

Reiner explained with a grin, maintaining a light-hearted demeanour. Staying in Lamia Palace as Reiner instead of Hachidori made it easier to communicate with Mio, and Reiner was aware of this tactical advantage. Even though Hachidori observed through Reiner’s eyes, staying in this persona was convenient.

“As I mentioned, your role as a bodyguard will be kept secret to avoid backlash from the Royal Guards. You will be introduced as a gardener, an acquaintance of Mio.”

“Sure, no problem.”

“Mio’s training will take place in secret, away from prying eyes. I still question the necessity of combat training for her, but if it’s Zenon’s will…”

“She’s already serving as Lady Nina’s bodyguard, so she’ll benefit from being more combat-ready. She’s already got a year of training under her belt—better than most soldiers. A bit more, and she’ll be able to kill a cow barehanded.”

Ulshyrra gave only a cold glance in response to Reiner's grin, then placed the official paperwork approving Reiner's presence in the "approved" folder. Once Nina signed it later, Reiner would officially be a live-in gardener at Lamia Palace.

After thanking Ulshyrra, Reiner left the reception room and headed to the palace’s garden.

It was already evening. Reiner stretched under the crimson sky, already dressed in the gardener’s uniform, complete with pruning shears and a sickle strapped to her belt.

“Well then... time for a little reunion.”

Reiner strolled leisurely through the palace, exchanging greetings with servants and gardeners, inquiring about Mio’s whereabouts.

He was directed to the chapel at the edge of the grounds, a building with a triangular roof and the Saint Aldista emblem engraved on the bronze door.

Reiner pushed open the heavy door and entered.

The beams of light filtering through narrow windows bathed the chapel in a warm amber hue. At the altar in the back, Mio was quietly polishing bronze holy objects.

From where Reiner stood, Mio’s profile was illuminated in the soft light, making her appear like a forgotten doll or a worn-out painting.

“Busy with something dull, huh?”

At the sound of her voice, Mio turned to face her.
[[File:MioAndReiner.jpg|thumb]]
“I figured we’d run into each other again, but didn’t expect it this soon,” Reiner quipped, continuing the light banter. Mio remained silent, her mouth barely opening in response.

“Guess we’re bound by fate. Sorry, but there’s no escaping me,” Reiner teased with a grin, walking toward the altar. He passed through beams of light, stopping just in front of Mio.

Mio’s expression briefly flickered with surprise, but it quickly returned to a calm stillness.

“You’re alive.”

The words were dry, barely more than a whisper.

“Like I’d die that easily.”

“...Did the mission fail? Was it... because of Kiyoaki?”

Mio’s face tightened at the mention of Kiyoaki. Reiner sat down on the front pew, looking up at her.

“If you don’t want to hear it, I won’t talk about what happened next. Your call.”

Mio gripped the cloth she was holding tightly, hesitating for a moment before speaking.

“Is it... a long story?”

“Could be. A lot happened.”

“...Tell me. I want to know.”

Mio placed the holy object back on the altar, then sat next to Reiner on the pew. Reiner scratched the back of his head with a sigh.

“Before I start, you’re not going to ask why I’m here?”

“...I don’t care.”

“Wow, cold. I thought we were part of the Seven of Eriadore.”

“…”

At the mention of “the Seven of Eriadore,” Mio’s face twisted with visible pain. Clearly, the memories still haunted her deeply.

Seeing that expression, something stirred uncomfortably in Reiner's chest. She didn’t know why.

Changing her tone to something more upbeat, Reiner began the story.

“Let’s see… I guess it starts back in September of last year, when Uranos ambushed Air Hunt. After you left with Uranos’s airship, that’s when things got really interesting.”

Mio nodded solemnly, bracing herself for the story that followed.

Reiner then began recounting the events that had unfolded after Mio’s departure from Air Hunt.

As Reiner recounted the events that had transpired after they parted ways, Mio sat quietly, her gaze lowered. Reiner explained the fate of the Air Hunt Academy after its buildings were damaged: how Kiyoaki, Reiner, Illia, and Cecil had been transferred to the Selfaust Officer Academy. After graduating, they were assigned to the Voltec Air Squadron, fought in the Sierra Greed Sea Battle, and eventually, Kiyoaki and Kagura were captured. He told how Balthazar had successfully helped them escape, but because of Kiyoaki's accusations, Reiner had to flee as well. Reiner finished his recounting with his usual sarcastic grin.

"And that's why I’m here now. Quite a rollercoaster, huh? The seven of us are scattered, everyone’s back in their own countries, and meeting up again? Yeah, that’s not happening anytime soon."

Mio listened quietly, her eyes downcast, before murmuring softly, almost to herself.

“So… Kiyoaki and Kagura… went back to the Federation…”

“If they stayed in St Vault, they’d have been executed as spies. So yeah, it was their only option.”

“Balthazar… helping them escape…”

“Seems like he’s into Kagura or something. Not sure about the details, but they kissed when they parted.”

Mio’s eyes widened in shock for the first time that day.

“Balthazar and Kagura… kissed?”

“Oh yeah, a real kiss. Like, "je t'aime" or "I love you" kind of kiss.”

“Really? Them? I can’t believe it…”

Mio blushed, pressing her hands to her cheeks in an attempt to hide her embarrassment. Finally, showing some reaction, Reiner couldn’t help but push further.

“And then, Kiyoaki was all over Illia.”

“What…?”

“I couldn’t hear what they were saying, but they looked like they were having a hard time letting go.”

Mio’s expression tightened as she absorbed that information. Her eyes filled with sorrow.

“… I see…”

Her voice, though calm, was a clear effort to maintain composure. She bowed her head again, her voice cracking as she spoke.

“… So… Kiyoaki and Illia… they’re like that now…”

Reiner could see the storm of emotions swirling inside her. He hadn’t meant anything by his comment, just light banter, but it was clear that Mio had taken it hard.

For some reason, his chest ached. He didn’t understand why.

“They’re not together. They didn’t kiss or anything. They’ve flown together a lot in combat, so they’re close, but Kiyoaki’s too much of a coward to make a move. He could, but he doesn’t.”

Reiner’s crude joke managed to soften Mio’s hardened expression, bringing a faint flush of colour back to her face.

“… I see…”

But the sadness still overflowed from her, visible even to Reiner.

—She’s really hurting…

That ache in his chest grew stronger, turning into a deep throb.

Mio, cloaked in sorrow like a worn-out coat, stirred something inside Reiner that he had never felt before. Her current face overlapped with the memory of her smiling back at Air Hunt Academy, a time that now seemed so far away, even though it had only been a year.

Everything had changed.

Reiner, who had never felt sympathy for others, suddenly had the urge to comfort her, to make her feel safe.

He spoke without being asked.

“Kiyoaki doesn’t hate you, you know. He understands why you left, even though you lied.”

Mio remained silent, her head still bowed, but Reiner continued.

“None of us think you betrayed us by choice. We know your family pushed you into it.”

Slowly, Mio raised her head, looking at Reiner with eyes like a small, frightened animal. He shrugged.

“Your lies were obvious, you know. You’re a terrible spy. After winter break, when you came back all different, we all figured something happened at home. Then, when we heard about your dad getting arrested as a spy, we were like, oh, that explains it.”

“…”

“They still believe you didn’t want to be a spy. Your sudden change was suspicious, sure, but they still see you as a friend. Sorry, but they haven’t forgotten about you. You’re still one of them.”

Reiner finished with a sigh, sneaking a glance at Mio.

Her green eyes were wide with surprise.

“Why…? I’m a traitor…”

“Because they’re all soft-hearted. And you’re a terrible actor.”

As Reiner watched, he noticed that the sadness around Mio was starting to lift.

—She must have been beating herself up this whole time.

He realized it now. The icy barrier she had built around herself was beginning to melt in the faded light of the chapel.

Sensing the mood getting a bit too serious, Reiner cracked another joke to lighten the air.

“What’s with that face? Are you about to cry? You can cry on my chest all night if you want.”

He spread his arms wide in a mock embrace, but Mio glared at him sharply, her voice trembling slightly.

“…I’m not going to cry, idiot…”

But even as she spoke, her voice carried the weight of tears. It was clear she was deeply touched that her friends still believed in her.

—She’s still holding on to the Seven of Eriadore… especially Kiyoaki.

Reiner’s chest throbbed again, more intensely this time.

Mio wiped her eyes once, then turned away from Reiner to gaze out at the stained glass windows. She stretched, as if trying to shake off her feelings.

“… Is everyone okay? No one’s hurt?”

Her back still to him, she asked quietly.

“They’re all fine. Everyone’s doing pretty well, actually. Especially Kiyoaki and Illia—they’re both on track to become ace pilots. Future sky kings, maybe.”

“I see… that makes sense… they’ll do fine…”

Her voice was soft, filled with distant thoughts.

“They might all meet again someday, so don’t be too down.”

After a brief pause, Mio nodded without turning around.

“… We won’t meet again. Never.”

Her voice, now brittle and cold, sounded like rusted metal.

“Maybe not. But hey, lighten up. I’m sticking around for a while, so if you’re all gloomy, it’ll rub off on me. Let’s take it easy, yeah?”

Reiner forced a laugh, trying to keep the mood light. But the pain in his chest kept swelling, threatening to spill out of his mouth if he let his guard down.

—What’s the point of dwelling on the past?

—And why won’t she look at me?

—Look at me!

He fought the urge to shout these thoughts at her as she kept her back to him, seemingly lost in her own world.

In that instant, Reiner's thoughts spiralled into chaos.

—I’ll never meet Kiyoaki again.

—In two or three years, he’ll forget about you.

—Why are you still clinging to someone like him?

These thoughts, totally unbecoming of an S-rank operative like Patriotis, coursed through his mind. Normally, Hachidori would berate him from within for such sentimentality, but strangely, the voice remained silent, buried deep in his subconscious. Reiner noticed the unfamiliar irritation welling up inside him and took a deep breath to steady himself. Something was off.

He needed to get to the point.

"So, here’s the deal: Zenon wants me to teach you assassination techniques. We’ll train in secret at night."

Without looking directly at Reiner, Mio nodded slightly. She was unable to defy Zenon’s demands, knowing her family was being held hostage.

"Someone might try to assassinate Nina, so knowing how to kill will only help you. It’ll also give you the skills to protect yourself. Anyway, that’s the deal. Let’s work together."

“…Yeah. Okay.”

"And if you ever feel lonely, let me know. I’ll comfort you."

Reiner forced a crude smile as he said this, watching Mio frown in response.

"…You haven’t changed. And where’s Hachidori?"

"Oh, I dunno. He hasn’t said anything for a while. Maybe he’s taking a nap."

“…A nap? Fine. As long as I don’t have to see him again."

"Don’t worry, he hates you too. The moment he heard I was assigned to the Lamia Palace, he threw all the work at me. But if you slack off in training, he might pop back up."

Mio grimaced at the thought, and Reiner chuckled as he left the chapel. Carrying her cleaning supplies, Mio followed him outside, gazing up at the now-darkened sky.

The everlasting torches cast a dim orange glow over the palace, illuminating Mio in their soft light.

"…Reiner."

“Hm?”

Mio hesitated, her cheeks flushing slightly as she cast her gaze downward once more.

Reiner laughed.

“What is it?”

“…”

"Come on, spit it out. Whether it's a complaint or an insult, I’ll listen. It might be fun."

“It’s not that… I just…”

Once again, Mio fumbled for words, finally looking up at him.

“…Thank you. I’m glad you came.”

“….”

“You’re not a bad person. I know that. So… thanks. Let’s keep working together.”

Mio’s voice was halting, but sincere. Reiner fought to keep his heartbeat steady and his usual nonchalant demeanour intact.

"Ah, c’mon, no need to get all formal. Of course, I’m a good guy. Anyone can see that."

He grinned, but Mio only managed a small, awkward smile, as though trying to force herself to laugh and failing.

“…Says the spy.”

There was a slight warmth behind her words. Reiner grinned wider.

"You're one too, you know."

"…Yeah. I am."

"Exactly. We’re both traitors, so let’s just keep going, licking our wounds as we go."

He shrugged dramatically, gazing up at the stars, and finally, Mio let out a small, stiff laugh.

—She looks better when she smiles.

Reiner couldn't help but think that. It was a realization that felt both familiar and strange to him.

Sensing the intensity in his chest growing stronger, he scanned their surroundings, looking for an excuse to leave.

"Anyway, I gotta go. Where’s Tower Two? I’m supposed to stay there."

“…Follow me. I’ll show you."

Mio lit a lantern and led the way through the dimly lit palace grounds. As they walked, a few towers stood out against the night, their outlines illuminated by the flickering torches. Reiner guessed one of them must be his destination.

Suddenly, a guard stepped out from the shadows and approached them.

Judging by his armour, he was one of the night patrol guards, holding a spear almost twice his height as he moved toward them.

“Oh, Igna,” Mio called out. The guard stopped and raised his head to look at Reiner.

“Who is this?”

His tone was immediately harsh and confrontational. Mio began to explain.

“Didn’t Ulshyrra tell you? He’s my friend and the new gardener…”

Before she could finish, Igna’s eyes flared with anger as he barked a warning.

“Get away from him, Mio!”

The spear’s tip was suddenly an inch from Reiner’s forehead.

—Switch.

“Got it.”

In a fraction of a second, Reiner dodged the spear thrust by leaning back just in time for Hachidori to take over, his consciousness rising to the surface and seizing control.

“Igna!?”

Mio’s voice was filled with panic as Ignacio launched a series of rapid spear strikes at Hachidori. Each thrust cut through the air with deadly force.

But Hachidori dodged every blow effortlessly, moving with the grace of a handball as he unsheathed the sickle hanging from his belt.

The steel blade gleamed in the torchlight.

Crouching low, Hachidori assumed a combat stance, grinning fiercely.

"You're pretty aggressive."

Ignacio maintained his guard, spear still raised.

"Assassins have a distinct smell."

"You’re like a dog."

"The stench of death is all over you. How many have you killed?"

"You'll be the twenty-eighth."

The moment those words left his mouth, Hachidori, moving with inhuman speed, dodged another thrust and closed the gap between them.

His sickle sliced through the air toward Ignacio's throat.

But the blow was blocked by the shaft of the spear.

Sparks flew as Ignacio deflected the strike, immediately countering with a leg sweep aimed at Hachidori’s feet.

“Tch.”

Hachidori leapt, avoiding the sweep.

As he landed, the butt of Ignacio’s spear was already flying toward his face.

"Hmph."

Hachidori barely dodged the strike by jerking his head to the side. If it had hit, it would have likely killed him on the spot.

The close call only served to fuel his growing rage.

"I’ll kill you."

Raising the sickle in front of his face, he made his declaration in a low voice. He would make this mere guard regret picking a fight with a Patriotis.

"Try it."

Ignacio, his silver hair flowing in the night wind, repositioned the spear at his side and replied curtly.

A gust of wind kicked up dust between them, and sparks from the torch exploded in the space between them.

In the split second that Hachidori was about to step forward──

"Stop this."

A girl's voice cut through the silence.

Mio gasped in surprise.

"Lady Nina…!"

Recognizing her voice, Hachidori immediately set his sickle on the ground and knelt.

Nina Viento, in a white blouse and navy skirt, gazed down at Hachidori's bowed head with calm eyes.

Ignacio quickly moved in front of Nina, keeping his guard up and the spear aimed at Hachidori.

"Igna, it’s alright. He’s an ally dispatched by Mr. Zenon."

"……………………"

"He’s disguised as a gardener to protect me. He’s not a threat."

Only after Nina’s reassurance did Ignacio finally lower the spear and step back to her side.

In a calm tone, Nina addressed Hachidori.

"I haven’t informed the soldiers of your true identity. Apologies for Ignacio’s response."

Hachidori, still bowing his head, replied,

"We were merely playing."

At his dismissive tone, Ignacio shot Hachidori a glare of clear disapproval.

"From now on, work in cooperation with the royal guards."

"Yes, ma’am."

"…Mio, it’s time."

"Oh, right. Yes, I’m coming."

With Nina’s prompt, Mio followed her toward the round tower.

Ignacio cast a sidelong glare at Hachidori.

"…If you show any suspicious behaviour, I’ll throw you out."

He spat out his warning before turning on his heel. Hachidori called after him provocatively.

"Think you can do it?"

Ignacio glanced back with a single, murderous look before disappearing into the night without further words.

──This might be pretty entertaining.

Leaving behind that silent thought, Hachidori relinquished control to Reiner.

"I’d rather live peacefully, but you’re always picking fights with the guards," Reiner muttered to himself, shaking his head.

Hachidori’s earlier response had been curt, as usual, but now he retreated, allowing Reiner to handle the more mundane aspects of their double life.

As Reiner approached the second tower, he couldn’t help but reflect on the brief exchange between Nina and Ignacio. Nina had effortlessly defused the situation, her mere presence commanding respect and compliance from those around her, even someone as fiercely protective as Ignacio. Her calm demeanour and quiet authority were impressive, especially considering her young age and the burden she carried.

For Reiner, there was a part of him that admired Nina’s ability to maintain such composure, but there was also something about her that stirred a strange unease in him. She was a central figure in this complex political web, and Reiner knew better than to underestimate her.

Reaching Tower Two, Reiner glanced around, his eyes scanning the darkened surroundings. The night was calm, the air thick with the scent of damp earth and the quiet hum of crickets in the distance. The flickering torches cast long shadows, stretching across the stone pathways and creating an eerie, yet oddly peaceful, atmosphere.

The door to the tower creaked as Reiner pushed it open, the hinges groaning from years of disuse. Inside, the small room was sparse—just a bed, a desk, and a single chair by the window. It was modest, but sufficient for his needs.

He threw himself onto the bed, staring at the ceiling, thinking about his mission here. He had a job to do: train Mio in the ways of assassination, protect Nina, and above all, ensure that nothing jeopardized Zenon’s plans.

But as much as he tried to focus on his mission, Reiner couldn't shake the image of Mio’s face. Her vulnerability, her hesitation when she thanked him, and the way her expression softened when she realized that her former comrades hadn't abandoned her—all of it gnawed at him. He wasn’t used to feeling conflicted about his duties, but something about Mio stirred unfamiliar emotions in him.

"Get it together, Reiner," he whispered to himself, trying to push the thoughts away.

But even as he closed his eyes, trying to fall asleep, the memory of Mio’s sad smile lingered, making sleep feel impossibly distant.

In the distance, the faint sound of footsteps echoed through the corridors of the Lamia Palace, the guards making their rounds. The night was settling in deeper, and while the palace itself was quiet, the undercurrents of tension that flowed beneath its surface never ceased.

Tomorrow, Reiner would begin Mio’s training. And though he tried to push the thoughts away, he couldn’t help but wonder how much this mission would change the both of them.

Toaru Hikuushi e no Seiyaku:V5Part3

2025-12-05T02:23:26Z

QCore:

Part 10 (Part 3 of Volume 5)

The weight of his suspicions, combined with the unease of what this investigation might reveal, lingered heavily in his chest as they continued their journey.

A Sense of Time Lost.

How long had passed since being thrown into this cell? Sakagami Kiyoaki had no way of knowing.

With no windows or clocks, it was impossible to tell whether it was day or night.

Lying on the cold concrete floor, his body battered and bruised, Kiyoaki stared blankly into the darkness through his swollen eyelids. The only thing he could do was hope not to hear the approaching sound of footsteps.

If the interrogators came, it meant more violence. His body, now covered in bruises and cuts, wouldn’t respond even if the restraints were removed. Yet, despite his physical state, he refused to break.

Sakagami Kiyoaki and Kagura Murasaki were being forced to confess to being spies for the Akitsu Federation. The violence wouldn’t stop until they admitted to this falsehood.

But if they did, the two of them would face execution by firing squad.

There was no hope in sight. At times, the thought that dying would be better than enduring this torment crossed his mind. But each time, Kiyoaki scolded himself.

Kagura is here with me. I won’t let her be executed.

That single thought kept him enduring the irrational brutality.

Handcuffed behind his back, lying on the floor, Kiyoaki gazed into the darkness, his mind drifting back five years to the invasion of Messus Island.

That sudden airstrike on his homeland.

Hiding in their secret base in the cornfield, Kiyoaki and his older sister Yumiko were toyed with by Karnasion, the "Black Panther," as he fired his machine guns at them for amusement.

“I won’t let you die. You’ll be fine.”

Yumiko had embraced Kiyoaki, shielding him with her own body.

The rain of bullets tore through her back, and the warmth of her blood soaked Kiyoaki.

“We’ll always be together.”

Her smile, one he loved so dearly, was something he could never forget.

“I’m living together with you, Kiyoaki.”

Those were her final words. The reason Kiyoaki was alive now was that Yumiko had given him her life.

Kagura, who resembled Yumiko so much.

When Kiyoaki first met Kagura, he remembered how his hands trembled, and tears welled up in his eyes. Though their personalities and actions were completely different, something about their spirits—the way their souls existed—was so similar.

He hadn’t been able to protect Yumiko back then.

But now, at least, he wanted to protect Kagura. No matter how much he was beaten or kicked, as long as Kagura was safe, that was all that mattered.

"Kagura," he muttered briefly, his voice barely audible. He had no idea what had happened to her.

Please, don’t let her be suffering like I am. Let the officers of the St Vault military police know shame. Let them not heap their cruelty and malice upon someone as dignified and composed as her.

"I’ll save you. I promise," he whispered into the darkness. Somehow, they needed to escape from this place. Together, they had to flee from St Vault.

The chances were slim.

Surely, our friends will come.

Illia, Cecil, Balthazar...

And then, he thought:

…And Reiner...

He remembered how, just before being captured, he had confronted Reiner about his true identity. That had been a stroke of luck. Because of that, Reiner was undoubtedly on edge right now.

Reiner will come.

To question me—and, depending on my answer, to kill me.

Kiyoaki knew that much. Reiner’s only concern was whether he could continue his covert operations within the Voltec Air Corps or if his position had been compromised.

Hurry up, Reiner.

As he stared into the darkness, Kiyoaki called out to his friend in his mind.

I’ll use your power.

Kiyoaki held one single card. A fragile hand of just one, upon which both his and Kagura’s fates rested.

At the end of summer, Balthazar Grim arrived in the imperial capital, Selfaust.

He exited the station and, without any detours, boarded a city tram heading towards the Selfaust Officer Academy. The view of the city through the window was steeped in the colours of war. With the outbreak of the Second Multi-Island War, patriotic fervour had swept the nation, and the expressions of those on the streets were filled with vitality. Young men lined up in long queues before recruitment posters, eager to volunteer for the army.

If one opened a newspaper, it was filled with reports of the atrocities committed by the Akitsu Federation. During the Odessa campaign on Messus Island, after the tide had turned, the Akitsu forces suddenly opened fire on allied troops, resulting in the deaths of many brave St Vault soldiers. Such treachery was unprecedented in military history. It was a tragedy for St Vault, a nation that, in its desire for peace in the Multi-Island Sea, had been forced to make allies of such cowardly people. The press echoed this sentiment, emphasizing that the Akitsu Federation must be punished for their betrayal, and that St Vault must bring down the hammer of justice upon the barbarian states of the southern seas.

Balthazar’s thoughts, however, were clear.

This is just the right kind of propaganda to deceive the masses.

Though the narrative presented in the mainstream press was far from the balanced analysis of a prestigious paper, it was simple enough to stir the public. St Vault was the righteous force, while the Akitsu Federation was the villain. It was a message that even a child could understand, and it had gained overwhelming national support for the war. The Empire was poised to crush the Akitsu Federation so thoroughly that it would never rise again.

All of this was planned from the start.

According to the Empire’s announcement, the Akitsu forces had shelled the St Vault landing forces during the Odessa campaign. But if that were true, it was likely a simple misfire, something that happens frequently in the chaos of war. Normally, the shelling would have stopped as soon as contact was made with the attacking unit. The real issue, however, was that the Empire used this as a pretext to launch a coordinated attack against the Akitsu Federation without any attempts to clarify the situation.

It was an unlikely scenario. The original mission of the St Vault forces was to secure Balsinos, not to suddenly change their target and attack their allies. The only explanation was that the St Vault military had been preparing for war from the beginning and had seized the opportunity to execute their plan.

It wasn’t an accidental skirmish that escalated into war.

The Imperial forces had prepared for this conflict all along.

That’s how Balthazar read the situation. From the moment the alliance with the Akitsu Federation was signed, the Empire had planned to betray them as soon as the Hydrabard Union was neutralized. The Empire didn't care about what the Akitsu thought of them. They only needed to convince their own citizens that they weren’t the villains. By portraying the Akitsu as cowardly traitors, they could stoke the flames of nationalism. Patriotic fervour would soar, war bonds would sell out, taxes would increase without complaint, and young men would continue to volunteer en masse to exterminate the “monkey” enemies across the sea.

It’s all a well-executed three-act play for the nation.

Balthazar looked out at the capital with cold detachment. If each citizen had a modicum of reason and knowledge, they would see the smirking faces of the military’s top brass and the government officials who profited from the chaos. But the populace, lacking education and accepting government-controlled media without question, danced to the tune of the Empire’s war drum.

The Akitsu Federation likely had a similar frenzy underway. They would be painting the St Vault forces as treacherous "white pigs" who attacked them during joint operations, rousing their own people’s patriotism to strike back. The narrative was probably not so different on their side.

The whole world is dancing to the absurdity of war.

As distasteful as it was, Balthazar knew that this situation was advantageous for his grand ambitions.

It’s the perfect era for someone to rise to the top on their own merits.

Just watch, old man. I’ll destroy the Berner conglomerate you built with my own hands.

Balthazar’s grandfather, Renior, had singlehandedly built the Berner conglomerate, spanning industries such as steel, oil, coal, shipbuilding, automotive, aviation, pharmaceuticals, leisure, electronics, and military goods. It stood as the largest conglomerate on the Mitterland continent, wielding power that exceeded national boundaries and influenced the geopolitical landscape of the Multi-Island Sea.

You think you have the world in your hands, old fool.

I will crush the empire you built with your life.

To do that, I need my own country, one that moves at my command...

Ever since Balthazar ran away from home at the age of fourteen, he had not once forgotten his dream:

Conquering a nation.

The most efficient way to counter the Berner conglomerate was to seize control of a nation’s power. Building a business empire from scratch would take too long, and his grandfather might die of old age in the meantime. That wouldn’t serve his purpose. He needed to rise to power while his grandfather was still alive, so that he could personally witness the destruction of everything he had built.

I will take the St Vault Empire.

Balthazar was serious about this. To achieve that, his first step was to become the Chief of General Staff of the St Vault military. Given the lacklustre abilities of the current high-ranking officers in the Operations Headquarters, Balthazar estimated that it wouldn’t be long before he could claim that position.

There’s no room for mistakes in trivial matters.

I need overwhelming success.

A great achievement that only I can accomplish.

For that, I will use every means necessary.

Resolving this in his heart, Balthazar noticed the tram had arrived at its stop in front of the Selfaust Officer Academy.

Stepping off the tram, he gazed at the red-bricked buildings before him. The academy wasn’t as large as the Air Hunt Academy, but it was one of the most prestigious in the Empire, having produced many chiefs of staff. Its history made it the oldest officer academy in St Vault.

This is where that chimpanzee is.

The silent thought escaped him, and Balthazar hurriedly shook his head.

No, she’s not a chimpanzee. She’s human.

Despite her foolish and carefree nature, her obsession with clothes, food, and pointless chatter, and her perpetually relaxed expression even in the most tense situations, she was still a human being, capable of speech. She wasn’t an ape. He had to treat her as a person.

In fact, not just a person.

If his suspicions were correct, she might very well be... her.

Ridiculous as it seems, I can’t deny it.

That little monkey could very well be... Elizabeth Sylvania.

Balthazar had come to the academy today to determine Cecil’s true identity. Based on the intelligence gathered by the Imperial spies and his own research on Princess Elizabeth, as well as Cecil’s background, there was no evidence to rule out the possibility that Cecil was, in fact, the princess.

Their ages matched. Their birthplace, the reason Cecil had lost her parents—everything aligned. Most significantly, Cecil’s close relationship with Colette Avery was a heavy indicator. The only thing missing was a photograph or portrait of Princess Elizabeth, but none could be found in all of St Vault.

The Avery family likely hid it.

That’s what Balthazar believed. It was almost inconceivable that no photos or portraits of a princess, even from her childhood, existed. Some powerful force had undoubtedly erased all traces of her appearance. There was someone for whom it was inconvenient for the princess’s identity to be revealed.

Whoever went to such lengths likely had something to hide about Cecil. As outlandish as it seemed, there was no solid evidence to dismiss the idea.

I’ll use all my manipulation skills to unmask you, Cecil Hauer.

Once I set my mind to it, bending you to my will is child’s play.

He had treated her harshly in the past, but after all, she was just a naive girl from the countryside. With his wit, looks, and charm, it would be easy to erase past grievances and make her fall under his spell. Given Cecil’s bird-like intellect, she would likely forget all about the past as soon as he treated her with a bit of kindness. One smile, and she’d be his in no time.

I’ll use every trick I know to charm Cecil and uncover her true identity.

Taking a deep breath, Balthazar stepped onto the grounds of the Selfaust Officer Academy, ready for the decisive encounter.

Of course, he hadn’t informed Cecil in advance. He needed to make it seem like a chance meeting. He already knew her class schedule for the day. All that was left was to wait for her to finish her seminar and casually "bump into" her in the courtyard...

"Wait... Captain?"

As Cecil exited the classroom after presenting in her tactics seminar, she spotted a familiar figure in the courtyard. But there was no way Balthazar could be here, so she stopped and took a closer look.

The figure turned to face her, and their eyes met.

"Hey, Cecil! What a coincidence!"

The person, who bore a striking resemblance to Balthazar, smiled brightly and waved as they jogged over.

He looked exactly like Balthazar, but something felt off.

"I'm sorry, but you must be mistaken."

Cecil turned away and quickly started to run. However, the figure chased after her.

"What's the matter, Cecil? It's me, Balthazar, your friend!"

A shiver of revulsion ran down her spine. It was creepy. This person looked exactly like Balthazar but was doing a terrible job impersonating him.

"Stay away! I'll call the police!"

She yelled as she glanced over her shoulder, only to see the figure still chasing her with an eerie smile, waving as if scattering invisible flower petals behind him.

"But I'm telling you, I'm Balthazar!"

"Stay away! Don't come any closer, you creep!"

"Why are you running? I just want to talk!"

"Why do you think?! Of course, I'm running!"

"Wait! Hold on!"

"Go away, pervert!"

"Pervert? Who are you calling a pervert?!"

"You, obviously! Stop following me!"

"I'm not a pervert, I swear! It's me, Balthazar!"

"The real Balthazar would never act like this! If you're going to impersonate him, at least study harder first!"

As she angrily shouted this, the smile on the impostor's face began to crack, and a deep frown creased his brow. His hand, which had been waving, slowly dropped to his side.

"...It was a joke."

The impostor suddenly stopped in his tracks, hanging his head low. He slapped both hands on his face and then slowly lifted his head, revealing an expression like he had eaten something awful.

"...It's me. ...Balthazar."

His familiar monotone voice and emotionless face, devoid of any charm, stood in stark contrast to the bizarre display earlier.

Out of breath, Cecil stopped as well, keeping a distance of about five meters between them, hands clasped in front of her chest.

"Ca... Captain!?"

"...Been a while, huh? You seem well... That's good."

His awkward, forced greeting left Cecil utterly confused.

"W-What is this!? Why are you here? And what was that earlier?!"

"...Please... one question at a time. ...I mean... it would be helpful if you could... consolidate them."

His strange and stilted speech left Cecil even more bewildered. She tried to calm her racing heart, focusing on the Balthazar standing in front of her.

"Uh, okay... What are you doing here?"

"...Do you have a problem with me being here? Is there something wrong with it?"

That familiar threatening tone in his voice, the kind she was used to, made her realize this truly was the real Balthazar.

"Wait, really? You’re the real thing?! What was that earlier?! It was SO creepy!!"

She hurled the accusation at him, and Balthazar’s face twisted in a grimace. He lowered his head, clearly trying to suppress his emotions. He raised his head briefly, his expression filled with barely restrained rage, causing Cecil to take a step back. Then, after several deep breaths, he restored his usual cold, composed expression.

"...I told you... it was a joke."

"Captain, you looked so dumb!"

"..."

"Do you honestly think that was a joke?! That was so wrong! You really need to work on your sense of humour. If you keep pulling stunts like that, you'll end up in jail!"

Her rapid-fire criticisms clearly struck a nerve, as the muscles in Balthazar’s face twitched. His lips quivered as if he was trying to contain his frustration.

"Let me show you how bad it was! Look, like this! Isn't it stupid?! Doesn't it look awful?!"

Imitating Balthazar’s earlier bizarre behaviour, Cecil exaggerated a wide, goofy smile, waving her hand wildly as she pranced around him in an awkward, pigeon-toed run. Then, she stopped, hands on her hips, ready to deliver more scolding.

"I don’t expect you to have a sense of humour, Captain, but even so, that was terrible! I’m saying this for your own good—you need to learn some basic social skills, or one day you'll make a huge mistake and fall from grace!"

As she rattled off her critique, Balthazar's face twitched more violently, his lips, brow, and even his throat all spasming in unison. Cecil expected him to snap at any moment, perhaps even physically lash out, as he often did when angered. She braced herself for retaliation, but it never came.

"Are you okay, Captain? Are you sick or something? You seem... off."

"...I'm not sick... Just... give me a moment..."

Balthazar turned away from her, visibly trying to regain his composure. He muttered something under his breath, looking up at the sky. After a deep breath, he turned back to her, now sporting a surprisingly gentle smile—one that made Cecil instinctively step back.

Although this new smile was more human than the earlier unsettling grin, Cecil, who had spent countless hours with Balthazar during social functions at the Air Hunt Academy, knew that any smile from him was likely masking some ulterior motive.

Balthazar ran a hand through his hair, flashing a brilliant smile.
[[File:BalthaSparkle.png|thumb]]
"How about dinner? You must be tired of cafeteria food. Let’s go out to the city."

Cecil felt a chill run down her spine. She instinctively wanted to flee but stopped herself as she recalled her aunt Colette’s words.

"Mark my words, Balthazar will seek you out."

And indeed, here he was, just as predicted.

"You must respond to him with the dignity of a ruler."

Colette had foreseen that the operations headquarters might suspect Cecil’s true identity. Balthazar, it seemed, was here to confirm her status for his own purposes.

The Captain's here to investigate me...

At that realization, Colette’s voice echoed again in her mind:

"Use Balthazar. He’ll be your first subordinate."

This could be an opportunity.

If I play my cards right, maybe I can use him to save Aki and Kagura...

Suppressing her unease, Cecil forced herself to stand tall.

If he’s planning to use me, I’ll use him too.

Feigning nonchalance, she replied, "Sure, I’d like that. It seems like we have a lot to talk about."

Balthazar’s overly polite smile showed a flicker of satisfaction—he believed he had her where he wanted her.

"Good. Let’s go then. We’ll take a cab or a carriage—public transport is a hassle."

"Uh... actually, could you wait a moment? I need to drop something off in my room."

"Of course, no rush. I’ll meet you at the main gate."

"Great! See you soon!"

Cecil hurried back to her dorm room, retrieved a certain treasured item from her drawer, and smiled a devilish grin.

The restaurant Balthazar chose was among the finest in Selfaust. The amber glow of the soft lighting, white tablecloths, silver candleholders, string music, and wealthy patrons in tailored suits all suggested a place where even the air had a price. Everything about the place screamed luxury.

"Is this okay? It seems... expensive."

"It’s not on the expense account, but it’s a special occasion. Don’t worry about it."

Balthazar’s fake, polished smile stretched across the table. Apparently, he was paying out of pocket. Whatever he was scheming, he was sparing no expense, and Cecil found herself impressed.

"Would you like some wine? You drink, don’t you?"

"Sometimes, with friends. I don’t mind it."

"Great."

It was obvious he planned to loosen her tongue with alcohol. He was playing the part of a charming gentleman, but his probing glances revealed his real intentions.

I don’t need to reveal my identity.

That was a last resort. Right now, her goal was singular.

I have to steer this conversation toward getting him to help Aki.

"Cheers."

Balthazar poured a vintage wine into their glasses, offering it with an overly formal flourish. Despite his efforts, Cecil could still remember all the times he had belittled her. He seemed to think she had forgotten, but she hadn’t. His arrogance permeated his very being, as if everyone else were merely puppets for his amusement.

Suppressing the urge to throw the wine in his face, Cecil smiled back.

"Cheers. It’s been a while, Captain."

After a clear sound, she took a sip. As for the taste of the wine, she couldn't tell if it was good or not.

With a nervous hand, Balthazar cut into the dish with a mysterious name that sounded like "something from the sea breeze or something." He casually asked about Cecil’s student life. A cold shiver ran down her spine. Back when they were students, he had always imposed his will on her, dragging her along wherever he wanted. Now, without a single inquiry about her well-being since graduation, he suddenly appeared out of nowhere, playing the role of the "caring senior."

—This guy probably thinks I’m like a bird that forgets everything after three steps.

As she responded to Balthazar’s questions, Cecil became convinced of it. She had written about her student life in the letter she had sent him, but from his questions, it was clear that he hadn’t read it. He might be smart and skilled in his work, but his consideration for others was completely lacking.

—This feels so uncomfortable...

It was easier when he openly treated her like a lesser being. The deceitfulness of his current demeanour made it worse.

After finishing the oddly named soup, the main course was served. That’s when Balthazar started to talk about his job, almost nonchalantly.

"For the time being, I'll be working on matters related to Santos Island in the southern archipelago. Conquering that island is only a matter of time, but the real concern is the sentiments of the islanders after the occupation. They’ve grown weary of constantly changing rulers due to the ongoing wars. Since the island is geopolitically significant as a battlefield, it’s crucial that we manage to win the cooperation of the locals.”

He said all this in one breath, observing Cecil’s expression carefully. He seemed to be gauging her reaction to the mention of “Santos Island.”

“Oh wow. That sounds tough,” she responded with a carefree tone, trying to act like a bird-brained girl. Beneath his charming facade, she could sense his disappointment in her lack of reaction, but he quickly put on the mask of a kind mentor again.

“You’re from Santos Island, right?” he asked.

“Yes. Wow, I’m surprised you remember that, Captain.”

“Of course I do. How could I forget the hometown of a dear junior?”

—Liar, she thought, suppressing the urge to grab him by the neck and scream.

“Oh wow, Captain. You’re so thoughtful,” she said, buttering him up.

Pleased, Balthazar flashed a smug grin and ran his hand through his hair again.

“Of course. I’m always thinking of all of you.”

“Oh, I’m so happy to hear that.”

“By the way, Cecil, do you have any relatives on Santos Island? If you do, it’d be a huge help if you could introduce me to them.”

As they continued their phony conversation, Balthazar leaned forward slightly and asked this. It was clear that this was the real reason he had invited her today.

Cecil widened her eyes and tilted her head slightly as if deep in thought.

“Nope, I don’t think so. I used to, but I haven’t been able to get in touch with anyone for a long time.”

This, at least, wasn’t a lie. She had no idea where the former vassals were or how to contact them. Only her aunt Colette knew that.

“Anyone would do, even a familiar face like a shopkeeper or a waitress. The fact is, we don’t have any contacts on Santos Island. Could you jog your memory a little and see if you remember anyone?”

Balthazar spoke in a sickeningly polite tone, persistently pushing her for more information.

“I do remember some things, but it’s been so long. I’m not too confident in my memory,” she replied, keeping the charade going.

“There must have been some childhood playmates, right? It was only seven years ago. Do you remember any names?”

Cecil felt a mischievous urge to mess with him but managed to control herself.

“Playmates, huh? I didn’t really have many. You see, my parents were quite overprotective, so they didn’t let me play with kids my age.”

Balthazar’s nostrils flared slightly. He was hooked. Leaning forward even more, he pressed her for details.

“I see! I always suspected as much. When I took you to those parties during our academy days, I noticed you were well-versed in social etiquette. I figured you must come from a rather high-ranking family. Even among the "Seven of Eriadore," you always stood out for your refinement and intelligence.”

—Liar. He used to treat me like a monkey, throwing bananas at me.

Cecil suppressed the urge to lash out and instead smiled sweetly.

“Oh my, you’re making me blush. But Miss Mio is far more refined and intelligent than I am.”

“Mio? She’s no match for you. Sure, she was popular with the boys, but when you stood next to her, she faded into the background. Your natural grace is something you were born with. It’s almost like you’re a princess from some far-off kingdom.”

Cecil nearly choked on her wine.

—This is torture. Her whole body was covered in goosebumps, and she fought the urge to scratch herself all over and kick him in the crotch.

“O-oh my... A princess, huh? Th-that’s quite flattering.”

She forced a strained smile, barely managing to hide her discomfort. Balthazar, still grinning like the cat that got the cream, continued.

“It’s true. For example, even if you were the rumoured "lost Princess Elizabeth," I wouldn’t be surprised.”

At the same time, he flashed her his most charming smile.

—Now, reveal your true self, you silly mix of bird and monkey.

—Are you just an odd little creature? Or the fallen princess of a ruined kingdom?

—Depending on your answer, I might just stick you with the bill and run.

While thinking these ridiculous thoughts behind his smile, he patiently awaited her response. After a brief pause for consideration, Cecil finally opened her mouth.

“Oh, I’m a princess, huh? That’s pretty funny.”

Her response was as indifferent as always.

Then she placed both elbows on the table, cupped her chin in her hands, and smiled at him like she was admiring a wildflower.

“If I were... what would you do, Captain?”

A shiver of fear like nothing Balthazar had ever experienced exploded down his spine.

His instincts were warning him of some unseen danger. It was a fear unlike anything he had ever felt before. Even during the life-threatening missions aboard the Eriadore airship, when he had faced death multiple times, he had never been this terrified.

—What is there to fear? It's just Cecil. There's no reason to be afraid.

He reassured himself and returned her question with a casual smile.

“Even if that were true, I wouldn’t be surprised. The elegance you exude is something not easily attained by others.”

Cecil, with a mischievous look, stared at Balthazar for a while, as if observing him, before ignoring the question and making a request.

“Captain, would you go see Aki and Kagura?”

“...Me? For what reason?”

“They're comrades.”

Balthazar almost chuckled. He had felt a momentary fear, but after all, the person in front of him was still Cecil—naive, prioritizing personal feelings, and short-sighted in her actions.

Suppressing his urge to sneer, he gave her a reply.

“Seeing them wouldn’t accomplish anything. They wouldn’t be happy about it. There’s no point.”

“They're on the same island, though?”

“They're under the military police’s jurisdiction, not mine. To see them, I’d need to submit a request and get permission. Unfortunately, I’m too busy with my duties. I don’t have time for unnecessary things.”

“Your duty is finding the former retainers of the Sylvanian royal family, isn’t it?”

“That’s right.”

“If I said I could help with that, would you meet with them?”

He almost made a fist pump but quickly restrained himself. He maintained a casual demeanour as he replied.

“What level of help are we talking about?”

“Substantial. Enough to surprise you, Captain.”

His throat tightened with anticipation, but Balthazar held back, trying to draw more information.

“Even if I met them, what would come next? Breaking them out is impossible, and even if we could, there’s no way to send them back to their homeland.”

Cecil, still smiling as always, responded casually.

“I happen to have a few connections that could help with getting them back to Akitsu. So, you can leave that part to me.”

She said it with the same foolishly carefree expression, despite the outrageous claim.

—This woman definitely has something behind her.

Convinced of this, Balthazar still maintained his expression.

“That would be helpful.”

“Please do!”

Cecil, seemingly carefree, clasped her hands together in front of her face, tilting her head in a manner not so different from any other naive girl.

“...So, I meet them, report back to you. Is that all you want?”

“Yes.”

—It’s worth making a concession. Meeting them isn’t much trouble.

—Play the kind-hearted senior, and win her favour.

Even if Cecil wasn’t actually Princess Elizabeth, it was highly likely that she held a significant position within the former royal family. Right now, he needed to focus on building a closer relationship with her. If he took his time, her true identity would eventually be revealed.

“...Alright. When I return to Odin, I’ll visit them. I’ll send you a report by telegram.”

“That’s great! Once I get the telegram, I’ll send you the information on the Sylvanian royal family’s former retainers.”

Balthazar raised his wine glass. Cecil picked up hers, and once again, the clear sound of glasses clinking filled the air.

—Not perfect, but well enough. This visit was worth it.

Smiling inwardly, Balthazar wet his lips with the wine.

Well, I suppose this will do for now.

Cecil, too, sipped her wine, whispering to herself inwardly.

The "treasure" she had tucked away in her breast pocket could wait for another day. That was the final card to be played when it came to controlling Balthazar. There was no need to use it just yet.

For now, it was enough that she had gotten him to agree to see Aki and Kagura without revealing her true identity.

Things would start to move from here, she believed.

—Once he meets them, the Captain’s heart will surely be swayed.

She hoped for that. No matter how cold-hearted Balthazar might be, surely when he saw the suffering of his former comrades, he would feel compelled to help. If Balthazar led a rescue mission in Odin, the chances of success would significantly increase.

And if, by some chance...

—If the Captain's heart doesn't move...

—If he sees Aki and Kagura suffering and does nothing...

Cecil cast a royal gaze upon Balthazar, one befitting a true heir to the throne.

—This man has no right to be involved with the Sylvanian royal family.

Balthazar, no doubt, was feeling satisfied with himself right now, probably thinking he'd pulled one over on her. But did he realize he was the one being tested?

—Captain, I’m sorry, but I’m going to test you.

—I know this sounds harsh, but a person without compassion or empathy has no place in the royal family.

With an innocent smile masking the steely resolve of a princess, Cecil took another sip of her after-dinner coffee.

Toaru Hikuushi e no Seiyaku:V5Part2

2025-12-05T02:22:19Z

QCore:

Part 9 (Part 2 of Volume 5)

The taste of blood seeping through the mucous membrane of his mouth jolted him back into consciousness.

He would never give in.

No matter how unjustly they treated him, he would not yield to the likes of them.

Another punch landed on his right cheek. For a moment, his vision almost went black, but he focused all his willpower into his gaze, forcing himself to stay conscious.

Sakagami Kiyoaki spat out the blood and mucus pooling in his mouth, then glared fiercely at the St Vault military police officer in front of him, his bruised and battered face radiating defiance.

"You keep making that face, and you'll just get hit again," the officer sneered, shaking his head in mockery before delivering another blow to Kiyoaki's cheek. Sparks of pain flared in his vision, but he clenched his fists behind the back of the chair, where he was handcuffed, and endured the impact.

"I'm not a spy," he muttered, repeating the only words that mattered. The officer, a stocky man in his late twenties with a sneering, reptilian grin, grabbed Kiyoaki by the hair and yanked his head upward.

"We're not so naive as to believe an Akitsu monkey's lies."

".................."

"That look in your eyes pisses me off. What a joke—"the Six of Eriadore," huh?"

The officer punched Kiyoaki in the jaw again, relishing the hit.

"Your command wanted to make you heroes, but what a disgrace. One's a Uranos spy, and the other two are nothing but cowardly monkeys. We were kind enough to form an alliance with you, and this is how you repay us?"

The officer, full of venom, kicked Kiyoaki's chair. Bound to the chair, Kiyoaki toppled over onto the concrete floor, unable to brace himself as his head struck the ground hard.

"Do you even know how many St Vault soldiers died at Balsinos? Over 3,500. You monkeys slaughtered them all after we neutralized the surface and began landing. It was the worst kind of betrayal—how dare you treat your allies like that?"

The officer pressed the sole of his boot against Kiyoaki's temple, grinding it into his skull.

Even as he was crushed beneath the boot, Kiyoaki didn't falter. His eyes, still sharp, glared upward.

"There must have been… a mistake…! Akitsu would gain nothing… from such an act…!"

"Shut up, monkey. Stop pretending to be human."

The officer removed his boot from Kiyoaki's head and kicked his face again. Kiyoaki's head jerked violently, and blood splattered against the wall. Choking on his own blood, Kiyoaki still refused to lower his gaze.

"Answer the question. You and your comrades were reporting on the Voltec Air Squadron’s movements to the Akitsu Federation. Isn't that right?"

"I would never… do such a thing…!"

His body was battered and broken, but he managed to pour the last of his strength into his words, fuelled by anger.

"They're all comrades…! I would never betray… my own comrades!"

The officer grinned, a malicious glint in his eye, as he crouched down next to Kiyoaki.

"I don't believe you. After all, you people are the kind who can smile while stabbing your allies in the back. You infiltrated Air Hunt to pass on intel to Akitsu. Just admit it."

"We came here… to learn!!"

"That's a lie."

The officer squatted down, enjoying every second of Kiyoaki’s sincere response, laughing mockingly.

"You got yourselves inside St Vault's military, absorbed our knowledge, and reported our moves back home. That’s how it was, wasn’t it? Come on, admit it."

Clearly, the higher-ups in St Vault were intent on framing Kiyoaki and Kagura as spies, stirring up hatred against Akitsu. The truth didn't matter. They wanted to paint them as traitors to stoke animosity toward the Akitsu Federation.

"If you confess, I'll stop kicking you. How about that?"

"Have some shame!"

"Tch. What an idiot."

The kicks rained down again, followed by three more punches. Kiyoaki, still bound to the chair, became nothing more than a punching bag, his body enduring blow after blow until his consciousness began to slip away.

But cold water splashed over him, snapping him back to life.

Through blood-streaked vision, he saw the officer grinning down at him.

"This won't stop until you talk. You’re wasting your energy."

"I… won’t… lie…! Even if I die… I won’t tell such a lie!"

Spitting out a mixture of blood and phlegm, Kiyoaki glared at the officer with fierce resolve.

"We're not spies! We came to St Vault to learn, to work alongside Voltec Squadron. I respect them! It doesn't matter where we're from—I would never betray them!"

The officer shook his head in mock amazement, looking up at the ceiling and sighing dramatically.

"Still going strong, huh? You're a tough one. Guess I'll have to ask someone else…"

"…………!? No…!"

"Was her name… Kagura Murasaki? She seems like she'd be much more fun to question."

Kiyoaki froze, the full weight of the officer's words hitting him. Then, the realization set in, and his legs thrashed violently in his restraints.

"Oh, look at that reaction! Maybe she's the one I should ask, huh?"

"If you lay a hand on Kagura… I will kill you…!"

The officer stopped, mouth half-open in surprise.

Kiyoaki's expression twisted into a snarl, his voice growing savage.

"Do whatever you want to me. Beat me, break my bones, I don’t care. But if you touch Kagura, I swear I will kill you. I will kill you."

The officer gazed at him with a look of contempt, as if staring at a pile of trash, before speaking.

"Are you trying to make a deal?"

"Don’t touch her."

"Hmph. I see… She’s important to you, huh? Well, this just got interesting. You know what? You’ve convinced me. I’m done with you."

The officer grinned wickedly and turned as if to leave the cell.

Realizing what was happening, Kiyoaki forced his swollen eyes open wide, shouting.

"Stop!! Ask me! I’ll tell you anything—just leave her alone!"

His desperate screams echoed through the cell, his mouth spilling blood as he pleaded. But all he received in return was the officer's vile grin. With a sneer of satisfaction, the officer glanced at Kiyoaki’s contorted face one last time before walking out of the cell.

The heavy clang of the iron bars locking into place echoed ominously.

"I'll kill you! I'll kill you, I swear it! I’ll kill you!!"

Kiyoaki’s roar of rage reverberated through the dungeon, but the only answer was the fading sound of footsteps.

"Kagura…! Kagura!!"

The thought of Kagura, always calm and composed, being subjected to such brutality made his blood boil. He had to escape this prison, but no plan presented itself.

"Damn it…! Damn it all…!!"

The feeling of helplessness was overwhelming, bringing him to the verge of tears. To endure such torment, to be beaten and coerced into confessing falsehoods—it was infuriating.

The officer wanted him to confess that he and Kagura were spies for the Akitsu Federation. If he did, it would be over. Execution or forced labour until death would follow. Everything he had worked for at the officer academy and the Voltec Air Squadron would be undone. Worse still, Kagura would suffer for it too.

──I have to endure…

He told himself this over and over again.

But could he really withstand it all? The beatings would continue until he broke. Day after day, he would be subjected to pain, suffering, and humiliation. How long before his resolve crumbled?

──Hold on. Just hold on. Somehow… somehow, things will get better…

──My comrades will come. They’ll come to save us…

That was the only glimmer of hope. The friends he had shared everything within Eriadore, the pilots of Voltec—they had to be working to free him and Kagura. He had to believe in them.

──Believe in them. They’ll get us out of here…

The pain from his injuries finally began to seep into his awareness. During the beating, adrenaline had dulled the sensation, but now the true extent of his wounds became apparent. Bound to the chair, unable to wipe the blood from his face, Kiyoaki summoned every ounce of his willpower to stay strong.

──We’ll survive. I won’t give up. Kagura and I have comrades we can trust…

Clinging to that thin thread of hope, Kiyoaki vowed he would never give in.

Flying Fortress "Odin."

The flying island, once owned by Uranos and called "Kalkinos," was captured by the St Vault Empire, renamed "Odin," meaning "Thunder God," and anchored over a small island off the Sierra Greed Sea, floating at an altitude of 2,000 meters.

Its propulsion system, rudder, and engine were all destroyed by the enemy commander Lysander, rendering Odin incapable of self-navigation. For now, it was merely a floating island, and it would take at least two more years to repair it and integrate it into the assault fleet.

Though unable to sail, it was still usable as a forward airbase. Odin was an invaluable bridgehead for St Vault's entry into the Southern Archipelago Sea. Elite flight crews from across the Northern Archipelago were now gathering on Odin, preparing for the upcoming battle with the new enemy, the Akitsu Federation.

There were three airfields in total.

St Vault's most elite fighter squadron, the Voltec Air Squadron, was stationed at the third airfield, carrying out daily reconnaissance and enemy surveillance missions.

Next to the runway, the former Uranos air command building remained intact and was repurposed as the Voltec Air Squadron Command Centre.

On the third floor of the command centre, Colonel Abraham Monroe, the commander of the Voltec Air Squadron, turned a cold, emotionless gaze toward Lieutenant Leo Rosenmuller, who had once again stormed in, just as he had the day before.

"I told you last time, there's nothing I can do. You understand that, don't you?"

He spoke calmly. But Leo, unusually, did not back down.

"At least allow me to meet with them and assess the situation. If they're undergoing improper interrogation, it could damage the honour of our nation."

"This isn't something for you to worry about. The matter has been left to military police. Sticking your nose into their territory won't gain you anything."

Leo's expression shifted to one of anger. Leaning forward as if about to slam his hands on the desk, he raised his voice.

"Two of my valued subordinates have been taken by unknown forces, and I have no idea where they are or what's happening to them. Isn't that reason enough to get involved?"

Colonel Monroe glared at Leo for a moment before resting his elbows on the desk and interlacing his fingers.

After taking a deep breath, he raised his head with a calm, calculated expression.

"Kagura Murasaki and Kiyoaki Sakagami are no longer your subordinates. They're criminals. Their crime is being Akitsu citizens. The judiciary has ruled as such. This isn't an issue for the Voltec Air Squadron."

"I am responsible for my subordinates' lives. I have a duty to ensure they're safe and not being mistreated."

"Lieutenant Rosenmuller, I know well that you're a devoted officer. But your passion should be directed toward the current members of your squadron, not toward criminals who are no longer under your command. We're still on the front lines here. Our enemy is not our allies; it's Uranos."

"They are not criminals. They are soldiers who risked their lives for St Vault!"

"This conversation is over. Return to your duties."

Colonel Monroe, with all the authority of his position, pointed his pen toward the door. Leo, suppressing his seething emotions, shot Monroe a look of reproach, clicked his heels, saluted, and left the office.

"This is beyond outrageous. How can this be allowed to stand...?"

Leo stormed down the stairs in a rage, but he still had no clear plan on how to rescue Kiyoaki and Kagura.

But...

"Just wait. I will save you."

The only thing Leo had was that resolve. Nationality didn't matter to him.

He simply wanted to return the wings to Kiyoaki and Kagura, who loved the sky just as much as he did.

Leo was certain after the recent battle off the Sierra Greed Sea. Kiyoaki was destined to become the "Ace of the Archipelago" one day. And Kagura had already proven herself with her command abilities during formation flight. With more experience, she could eventually lead an entire air squadron.

"I can't let their wings be taken from them."

His instincts as a pilot told him that much.

Even if they ended up on opposite sides, they were still people who loved flying and the sky. All Leo wanted was for them to unleash their abilities in the sky, not rot away in a prison cell.

"I won't let you two end here..."

Looking up at the summer sky as he left the command centre, Leo spoke to his missing subordinates.

Meanwhile, at the third airfield's ready room, Voltec's non-commissioned officers had gathered around a table, studying a map of Odin.

Senior flight officer Macguire, the leader of the non-commissioned officers, pointed to a spot on the map, reporting on his tailing of a military police officer.

"The main base for the military police is in the northwest of the city, at the old Uranos police station. They're using the same building Uranos used. If those two are being held somewhere, it's probably there. There might be other detention facilities, but this one is the most suspicious for now."

Beside him, Illia Kreischmidt nodded gravely as she gazed at the map.

"If it's a police station, we can at least visit and inquire about their safety. First, we need to confirm they're safe, and then we can work toward getting them released."

The twin female flight officers, Lulu and Lala, grinned mischievously and chimed in.

"See? I told you it's useless to just keep asking nicely."

"Yeah, even if the captain tries, they're just gonna get annoyed."

"We should just bust them out with force."

"How about we go shoot up the police station right now?"

Like mischievous children plotting a prank, they made terrifying suggestions with frighteningly genuine intent. Illia shook her head.

"That's a last resort. We need to find a legitimate way to secure their release. If we don't, it'll affect the entire squad."

Her voice trailed off. Illia's desire to rescue Kiyoaki and Kagura was personal. If the legal route failed, she was willing to consider forceful measures, but she didn't want to drag the squad into it and make them bear the consequences.

However, Lulu and Lala pouted, clearly unhappy.

"That's not fair. You're acting like we don't care about Kiyoaki."

"Illia, are you trying to hog the glory? We want to help him too!"

Other male non-commissioned officers, with equally frustrated expressions, joined in, directing their complaints at Illia.

"I want to rescue Kagura too!"

"I've already figured out how to carry her out—I'll scoop her up in my arms, hold her here, support her there..."

"After I rescue her, I'm gonna kiss her on a cliff!"

"I'm gonna do something even better!"

"I've got a plan to do this!"

"What? Well, I'm gonna do this!"

"I'll do this!"

"No, you're not!"

"I'm not doing it to you, so don't worry!"

"What did you say, you bastard?!"

"Grrr!"

"Arrgh!"

"Raaah!"

The non-commissioned officers started arguing over what they'd do after rescuing Kagura, eventually devolving into a fistfight as usual.

"Enough."

Leo, who had just returned from the command centre, coldly ordered, immediately silencing the brawl, as was customary.

"Captain, how did it go with Monny?"

Leo slumped into a chair and frowned at Lulu's question.

"Don’t call the commander by a nickname. It's Colonel Monroe. As for how it went...well, the phrase "hitting a brick wall" comes to mind. He just kept insisting it's not his jurisdiction and sent me away."

Everyone around them let out frustrated snorts.

"Ugh, I knew it, that "Monny" is useless," Lulu said.

"Yeah, he's so stiff. He doesn't even get jokes," added Lala.

"Did you know "Monny" had a thing with Irene from maintenance, like three times in the hangar back in the day?"

"Seriously? So he likes older women?"

"Well, it was more than 20 years ago, so they were both younger then."

"Ugh, I can totally picture it—"Monny" and Irene doing all sorts of things in the hangar."

"Enough with that talk. And stop calling the commander "Monny." The higher-ups aren't going to help. Now, how do we get them out...?"

Leo crossed his arms and looked around the room. Macguire, with a serious expression, made a suggestion.

"We could just throw some dynamite and blow up the police station."

"How is that a good idea? Sakagami and Kagura would die too."

"How about loading a 50-kilo bomb on the Beo Eagle and blowing up the station?"

"No bombing. We need to rescue them legally."

"I once fired a 20-millimeter machine gun by hand. I could storm the station."

"Pfft, I did 30 millimetres, one-handed."

"I'll steal an army tank and blast them. Never driven one, but it’s probably the same as flying a plane."

"No, it isn’t, you idiot!"

"Why not? They both run on gasoline and engines!"

"Sure, but everything else is different, moron!"

"Says the guy who’s the real idiot!"

"Shut up, fool!"

"Die, idiot!"

"No, you die!"

"Uraaa!"

"Orraa!"

"Hunnooo!"

Another brawl broke out, but Leo, his gaze now distant, didn’t bother to stop it.

Amid the chaos, Illia, standing still, opened her mouth to speak.

"Given that one of the "Seven of Eriadore" defected to Uranos, and now two of them are labelled enemy foreigners, this is inconvenient for the military's narrative. We could appeal to the public through the media, highlighting their chivalry, and push for their release. It's a roundabout way, but it could work."

"You're right. Illia, you and Reiner handle that. If we can shift public opinion towards their release, we might be able to influence the situation. By the way, where’s Reiner? I don’t see him around."

"He's off duty today. He left early this morning on his motorcycle."

"I see. He's a bit of a mystery..."

"Yes, but he’s likely working on something in his own way. He doesn't tell us much, but that's the kind of person he is."

Illia cast a melancholic look out the window. Ever since Kagura and Kiyoaki were captured, Reiner had been acting differently. His usual carefree attitude had lessened, and he had started showing a side of himself Illia had never seen before—gazing out into the sky with a stern expression. Even when the other non-commissioned officers tried to engage him in their usual banter, his responses had become more detached.

──It's no wonder. He was close to Sakagami...

Illia thought that Reiner must be very worried. It seemed he had stopped relying on the higher-ups or the media and was moving according to his own plans.

──I'll have to start doing the same...

Illia had already made up her mind. While she would still appeal to public opinion as she had suggested to Leo, she was prepared to resort to other methods if necessary to free Kiyoaki and Kagura. And she intended to do so without involving her fellow Voltec Air Squadron members, taking all the responsibility upon herself.

During the battle off the coast of Sierra Greed, Illia had flown in formation with Kiyoaki and Kagura, fighting as one unit. They had protected each other, and it was only through their mutual support that they had survived the intense air combat. For Illia, rescuing them was no longer a matter of gain or loss—it was a personal obligation. Their suffering was her suffering. She couldn’t focus on her duties because her thoughts constantly wandered to the two of them.

──I can't stop thinking about Kagura and Sakagami.

Are they still alive? Have they been mistreated? The St Vault military police were notorious for their brutality. Violence during interrogations was routine, and if a suspect happened to die as a result, it was easy enough to cover up the truth.

No matter how much she tried to push those thoughts away, dark imaginings filled her mind. Each time, her stomach clenched, and a dull, heavy pain spread through her core.

Her legs trembled. It was a different kind of fear from what she felt in the heat of air combat—something more insidious and suffocating. A pilot’s place to die was in the sky, not rotting in a police station’s underground cell. After all the training they had undergone at the academy, to meet such an end was too cruel.

──I will save them, no matter what it takes...

Sharing in their pain, Illia solidified her resolve. Even if it meant becoming a criminal, she wouldn’t regret it.

At 9:00 AM, Reiner Beck, dressed in civilian clothes, parked his bike in front of the Odin City Hall and began to wander around the city on foot.

The city centre, unlike the other military facilities, had largely retained its original form.

Although there were some buildings with large holes from artillery strikes or collapsed roofs, many structures remained intact as the city had been spared from heavy bombardment. When the St Vault infantry landed, Uranos soldiers quickly retreated into underground facilities, converting themselves into a resistance force, which meant there was no intense urban warfare, leaving much of the city undamaged.

Of course, remnants of battle could still be seen. Cracked and pockmarked roads bustled with vehicles: cars carrying officials, armoured vehicles with St Vault soldiers, and trucks loaded with building materials, all weaving through the streets. Policemen directed traffic with whistles, and car horns blared constantly. The noisy activity echoed the rebirth of Odin as part of St Vault’s expanding territory.

With his hands in his pockets, Reiner meandered through the city for about two hours before returning to the front of the city hall.

The building, previously used by Uranos, had survived the conflict and was now staffed by officials and personnel sent by St Vault, who were beginning to oversee the administration of Odin.

Reiner paused, observing the people and vehicles coming in and out of the main gate.

He occasionally smoked a cigarette or shifted locations to read a newspaper, all while carefully keeping an eye on the traffic at the entrance.

Two hours into his surveillance, a police vehicle emerged from the city hall’s main gate. Without raising suspicion, Reiner casually straddled his bike and started it up, keeping enough distance to blend in with other cars but never losing sight of his target.

After about 15 minutes, the police vehicle pulled into a large, imposing three-story concrete building on the outskirts of the city. Reiner parked just before reaching the building and resumed his watch.

“I hope they’re in there.”

Leaning against the wall of the building across the street, he muttered to himself, lighting another cigarette. Although it seemed like he was talking to himself, the words were meant for the other presence deep within him.

──You’re being overly cautious.

Hachidori’s voice echoed back in his mind, full of irritation.

“It’s for the boss. If everything we’ve worked for falls apart now, all this effort would’ve been for nothing.”

──Sakagami will reveal my true identity to the military police. If that happens, the investigation will lead to me.

Reiner, used to Hachidori’s complaints, responded calmly.

“We can leave this island anytime we want. Even if the military police come after us, we can just bail out with a parachute. Simple.”

At his soothing words, Hachidori fell silent momentarily, then once again criticized Reiner’s plan from the other day.

──It’s too much trouble. The risks are too high.

“There are risks, sure. But if we don’t do this, everything we’ve infiltrated for will go to waste. Isn’t it worth verifying with Sakagami?”

Reiner’s plan was simple: locate Kiyoaki’s detention facility, infiltrate it, and confront him to confirm if he had revealed Reiner’s true identity to the military police.

If Kiyoaki had already exposed him, Reiner would kill him on the spot.

If not, he’d break him out, take him to a secluded location, and kill him there.

That was Reiner’s solution, presented to Hachidori as a way out of their current predicament.

In any case, Kiyoaki had to die. Now that he had figured out Reiner’s true identity as an infiltrator, there was no reason to keep him alive. The only question was whether he had already informed someone else, and that needed to be answered.

“It’s a better option than running, right? If he’s told someone, I’ll have to escape too, but if he hasn’t, I can stay here in the Voltec Air Squadron. I think, given Sakagami’s personality, he probably hasn’t said anything. He’s annoyingly honourable like that.”

──I agree about his character. But under torture, who knows what he might say.

“Yeah, that’s true. But if he’s talked, I’ll just kill him. Simple. The most important thing is that I can stay here and continue our mission. If that’s still possible, we have to try.”

──Hmph... troublesome.

“It’s all because Sakagami figured me out. That idiot, always wearing that dumb expression but picking up on the wrong things... what a fool.”

──I’ll leave this matter to you. I’m not enthusiastic about it. But when you kill Sakagami, call me.

“Sure, sure. I’ll make sure it’s quick and painless.”

With that, Hachidori fell silent again.

Reiner continued his surveillance.

As the day wore on and the shadows lengthened, a small delivery truck entered the police station. Bold orange letters on its side read "Delivery Dinner," and the truck was loaded with blue containers that likely held food.

Reiner’s eyes gleamed.

He waited for the delivery truck to leave and then tailed it, tracking it back to its origin after two hours of following.

“Even the military police need to eat.”

Muttering to himself with a smile, Reiner began formulating his next steps. He knew the members of the Voltec Air Squadron were working behind the scenes to rescue Kiyoaki and Kagura, but in Reiner's opinion, their efforts were bound to fail.

“This kind of job should be left to the professionals.”

A sinister grin spread across his face as he revved his bike and sped off. The cracked and crumbling roads passed beneath him as he accelerated, his thoughts crystal clear.

──The goal is not to rescue him. It’s to kill Sakagami with my own hands.

Hachidori’s reminder echoed from deep within.

“I know.”

With that confirmation, Reiner opened the throttle wide and raced through the streets, the glow of gaslights shimmering as he sped toward the vast plains under the moon and stars.

Upon receiving Ilia’s telegram informing her that Kagura and Kiyoaki had been captured, Cecil Hauer left the Selfaust Officer Academy immediately.

After about an hour and a half on the tram, she arrived at Greenhill, an upscale residential area nestled in the mountains.

It had been approximately seven years since she last visited. The last time, she was only eleven years old, and her memory of the streets was vague. With a map in hand, she wandered through the area until she finally found the house she was looking for.

Behind the grand front gate stood a gleaming white one-story mansion, reflecting the bright July sunlight.

She hadn't arranged a visit, showing up unannounced. But there was no time to lose. Feeling a bit hesitant, Cecil mustered her resolve and rang the doorbell.

An elderly butler appeared to greet her, and upon seeing Cecil standing alone before the gate, his deep-set eyes widened in shock.

“Lady Elisabeth...!”

It had been seven years since she’d last been addressed by that name.

Barely managing to remember how to carry herself with dignity, Cecil informed him of her intentions.

“I have come to see my aunt. I apologize for arriving without notice, but I have an urgent matter to discuss.”

The butler, still showing traces of astonishment, quickly remembered his duties and wasted no time in inviting Cecil into the estate.

“I will call for the mistress right away. As this is unexpected, it may take her a moment to prepare, so please be patient.”

“I don’t mind.”

Cecil was led to a clean parlour, where she sat down in an elegant chair with intricately carved backrests. She waited for her aunt, Colette Avery, to arrive.

The chirping of birds in the garden was the only sound. Even the silence in Greenhill seemed refined. A maid respectfully placed a teacup before Cecil and poured fragrant tea.

──I wonder if Aunt Colette will be angry.

As she took a sip of tea, Cecil couldn’t help but wonder.

Though Colette had been overseeing Cecil’s education, the one rule was that she was never to visit this home. As the sister of the late king of Sylvania, Colette’s household had to remain under the radar. If Cecil, the surviving Princess Elisabeth, were to be spotted visiting, suspicions about her true identity would arise. The fact that Elisabeth was still alive had to remain a secret from the world.

But at this moment, that concern no longer mattered.

──I have to do everything I can.

──I have to save Aki and Kagura.

Cecil had resolved to use any means necessary to help them escape, fully aware of the weight she would have to carry as a result.

Just as she steeled her resolve, the door opened.

“Elisabeth. You...”

One look at Cecil’s face was enough to leave Aunt Colette speechless.

Though her expression was stern, Colette seemed to sense the gravity of the situation. She softened her stance and extended both hands toward Cecil.

“Come here.”

Cecil stood up from her chair and rushed into her aunt’s embrace. A gentle hand rested on the back of her head.

“You’ve grown so much. You’re eighteen now.”

“Yes, thanks to you, Aunt Colette.”

“You look and sound so much like your mother.”

Cecil felt tears welling up. Thanks to Colette’s protection, she had lived as an ordinary girl without any hardship. Colette understood the burden of the Sylvanian royal family’s legacy and had left Cecil the option of living a normal life.

Visiting this house before coming of age was a breach of that deep kindness.

“I told you not to come here.”

“I have an important matter.”

“Is it something troubling?”

“Yes. I need to help a friend. And for that, I must ask for your assistance.”

“...I see. I hope it’s something simple.”

“...It’s not simple. That’s why I’ve come.”

Cecil’s expression was sincere as she faced her aunt. Colette, with a thoughtful nod, placed a hand on Cecil’s back.

“Please sit. From the looks of it, you don’t have much time, do you?”

“...No. Time is of the essence.”

Cecil sat down again, and, across the table, she told her aunt everything about the situation.

As she spoke, Colette’s expression grew darker.

“The arrest of Akitsu nationals is an imperial decree from St Vault. No amount of influence can change that.”

After hearing Cecil’s story, Colette quietly explained.

“Then how can I save them?”

“There’s no way. Even my husband’s power couldn’t help.”

Cecil bit her lip. She knew the situation was dire, but she desperately searched for a solution, any possible way to grasp even a thread of hope.

“My uncle has close ties with the Akitsu Federation’s ambassador. Would it be possible to make contact?”

“That’s possible, but what would you say to him?”

“I’d ask him to send a ship or airship from the Akitsu Federation to retrieve them.”

“Even though St Vault won’t release them?”

“Yes. The release would be handled by other means.”

“By unofficial means?”

“........................”

“The Avery family cannot be involved in such things.”

“...Yes. That’s my responsibility.”

“...This won’t be easy.”

“Please. All I need is for the ambassador to meet with me. I’ll handle the negotiations under my name. I won’t cause any trouble.”

Once again, Colette met Cecil’s plea with a long silence.

She took a sip of her tea before speaking in a calm voice.

“Cecil Hauer’s name won’t be enough to meet the ambassador. He’s not someone a mere student can easily meet. You understand that, don’t you?”

“...Yes. I understand.”

“As Princess Elisabeth of the Sylvanian royal family, you would be requesting cooperation from the Akitsu Federation’s ambassador... Do you understand the weight of that?”

“I’ve come here fully prepared.”

“If your existence becomes public, not only will the old retainers but the former subjects of Sylvania will be roused. There will be a push for the restoration of the royal family, and it will be impossible to stop. Are you truly ready for that?”

“...Yes. I am... prepared for it.”

Colette’s gaze turned harsh.

“Elisabeth. A ruler cannot make decisions based on emotion alone. One decision you make could lead to the deaths of thousands, even millions. You are about to alter the lives of millions of people tied to the Sylvanian royal family, all for the sake of two friends. Think carefully.”

“........................”

“If you reveal your identity and request a transport for your friends, is that worth risking the future of the Sylvanian royal family?”

“........................”

“You’re being reckless. Go home and cool your head. This isn’t a decision worthy of a future monarch.”

Cecil stood still, absorbing her aunt’s words.

Anger, like molten lava, surged from the pit of her stomach.

She couldn’t hold it back.

Her words erupted with fury as she faced Colette.

“Before being a ruler, I will make the choice that is right as a human being.”

With her head held high, she continued, her expression resolute.

“If becoming a ruler means forsaking my humanity, then I’ll accept that fate and rise above it.”

The air itself seemed to hum with tension. Cecil had never experienced such an oppressive silence weighing down on her entire being.

“You speak of succession as if it’s a mere qualification exam.”

Colette’s voice was cold.

“It’s my destiny. I will accept it and overcome it.”

Cecil responded without hesitation, recalling the word “destiny” that Kagura had once used during their night landing on the airship Eriadore.

──This is why I was born into this world.

──I will carry this burden and fulfill what only I can do.

Cecil faced her aunt, projecting the dignity of a future monarch.

Colette’s gaze sharpened, as if her eyes had become blades, cutting deep into Cecil’s soul, scrutinizing her inner resolve.

But.

──There’s nothing I’m ashamed of.

──I will save them. I will save Aki and Kagura with my own hands.

Telling herself this, Cecil allowed Colette’s piercing gaze to explore everything inside her.

The long silence was finally broken by Colette’s sigh.

“...In that, you’re just like your mother.”

She spoke with a touch of exasperation and shook her head slightly, as if in resignation.

“The fatal flaw in your plan is that you don’t have a way to actually free them. Even if I arrange for transport, it’s pointless if they remain imprisoned, isn’t it? How do you plan to break them out?”

“I’ll consult with my comrades.”

Likely by physical means.

“That won’t do. Present me with a concrete plan for their release. If I find it feasible, I’ll arrange a meeting between you and the ambassador.”

“........................”

Cecil could only bite her lip. Her aunt was right; she had rushed here driven by her emotions. Her concern for her friends wasn’t enough to move the situation.

"…How can I free the two of them?"

Cecil found herself asking her aunt the very question that had been troubling her.

Colette gazed at Cecil for a moment before her expression softened.

"You really are just like your mother. She always acted on impulse, dragging everyone into her whirlwind, while she smiled as if everything was fine."

A vision of Cecil's late mother briefly flashed behind her eyelids.

"Even though she caused so much trouble, you couldn’t hate her. She was charming and sincere, without a hint of deceit."

Colette's words stirred memories deep within Cecil's heart. Her mother was cheerful, full of life, and always seemed to brighten the world around her.

"...To think I’d meet her again like this. I thought she was lost forever, but she’s still alive... inside of you."

For a fleeting moment, Cecil thought she saw a glimmer in Colette’s eyes.

Colette turned her gaze to the bright sunlight outside the window and, as if speaking to herself, continued.

"About ten days ago... I had a visitor. His title was 'Officer of the Information Bureau at the St Vault Operations Command.' One of the 'Seven of Eriadore'... or is it six now? He’s one of them."

Cecil’s eyes widened in surprise.

"Captain Balthazar… came here?"

"He wanted to get in touch with the former retainers of the Sylvanian royal family. I didn’t intend to meet with him, but since his business also concerned my husband's work, I had no choice. Quite the cunning young man. He tried to use some clever negotiation tactics, so I pretended to be interested and introduced him to a lowly bureaucrat who would be of no use to him. He left with a big grin on his face, but I’m sure by now he’s found out that he was played. The man I introduced him to is the worst sort—someone who lives to spend other people’s money."

Colette chuckled, clearly amused by her own trickery. Cecil, determined not to let her aunt turn into an enemy, cautiously asked her next question.

"But why would Captain Balthazar want information about the Sylvanian royal family?"

"He’s thinking ahead about the occupation of Santos Island. The people there still yearn for Sylvanian rule, so it would be convenient for their propaganda to have a former retainer of the royal family. He asked me an amusing question: "What are your thoughts on the rumours of Princess Elisabeth’s survival?"

Colette mimicked Balthazar’s tone with uncanny accuracy and burst into laughter. Despite having met him only once, she perfectly captured his manner of speaking.

"He brought that up and carefully watched my reaction. When I laughed it off, he didn’t seem too pleased. It seems that he really wants you to be alive. If Elisabeth were still alive, it looks like he’d try to use you for his plans."

Cecil’s head spun.

"W-Why would Captain Balthazar be looking for me?"

"Because if he has you, he wouldn’t need to rely on the former retainers. You alone would be enough to sway the people of Santos Island to his side. The lost Princess Elisabeth holds that much influence. You need to be more aware of your position."

Cecil fell silent. The idea that Balthazar was looking for her left her feeling strangely unsettled.

And why was her aunt telling her all this now?

It was clearly a hint of some sort.

Balthazar is looking for Princess Elisabeth, and now that Cecil knows this, what should she do next…?

The answer suddenly flashed in her mind.

"A-Aunt Colette, can you contact Captain Balthazar?"

Colette raised an eyebrow.

"He should be with the Intelligence Bureau in Odin right now. But what will you do if I contact him?"

"I-I thought… maybe I could cooperate with him…!"

"Cooperate, you say?"

"Yes! If we work together, I’m sure we can save Kagura and Aki!"

Colette sighed theatrically, clearly unimpressed.

"Elisabeth, a king must never act first."

"B-But…!"

"You need to make the other party approach you. That way, you hold the advantage. Be patient. Balthazar will come to you."

"But Balthazar doesn’t know I’m the real princess! There’s no way he’ll reach out to me."

"Listen carefully. This house is always under surveillance by St Vault intelligence agents. The fact that you entered the estate freely is already known to their command."

"W-What…?"

"That’s why I told you never to come here. But since it’s too late now, we must adapt to the new situation. You just have to wait. He’ll make contact with you, and when he does, you must conduct yourself with the dignity of a monarch when addressing your subjects."

Cecil was left speechless.

"Use Balthazar. He’ll be your first subordinate."

Colette smiled wickedly, clearly relishing the situation.

Despite it being the height of summer, a chill ran down Balthazar Grim’s spine.

He instinctively turned his head, glancing over his shoulder to check if he had been doused in cold water, but finding no such thing, he dismissed the feeling. Descending the short ramp of the transport aircraft, he set foot on the tarmac of Odin's First Airfield.

Balthazar had recently vacated his post on Mauregan Island, relocating to Odin. This would be his new assignment for the foreseeable future. He boarded a taxi with his superior officer, Colonel Andy Bott of the St Vault Navy and Air Force Operations Command, and they set off toward the city.

“Your friends have found themselves in quite the unfortunate situation, still held captive on this island,” Colonel Bott commented, staring uninterestedly out the window at the passing scenery of the "floating island."

“It was always a possibility. I imagine they were prepared for such a situation,” Balthazar replied matter-of-factly, watching the armoured vehicles, trucks, and bulldozers pass by. Three days had already passed since Kiyoaki and Kagura had been captured.

“Does it trouble you?” Bott pressed.

“It’s beyond my jurisdiction,” Balthazar responded with calculated indifference. The colonel glanced at his side profile.

“You look sleep-deprived.”

Balthazar, maintaining his composure, answered with controlled detachment.

“I haven’t been sleeping well lately. If it continues, I’ll consider taking some sleeping pills.”

“Hm,” Bott responded, his probing ending there.

What a strange superior, Balthazar thought. This wasn’t the first time Bott had said something like this. Previously, he had advised Balthazar to “maintain friendships to better understand human emotions.” Now it seemed Bott was observing how Kiyoaki and Kagura’s capture might affect him emotionally.

How ridiculous, Balthazar scoffed internally. He cared little for what happened to them.

The Operations Command would likely paint Kiyoaki and Kagura as spies for the Akitsu Federation, using them to fuel hatred and bolster the fighting spirit of the troops. The truth didn’t matter anymore. All that was needed was a convenient scapegoat to unite the soldiers.

The cool breeze that had once surrounded Kagura was gone. What awaited her now was the storm of violence reserved for sacrificial lambs.

Unlucky. Just give up, Balthazar sent an unspoken condolence to Kiyoaki and Kagura, who were likely being beaten in their cells.

There’s nothing I can do.

That’s what he had been telling himself repeatedly these past three nights as he lay in bed, unable to sleep.

But even in the darkness, images of Kagura continued to appear in his mind.

“I have a saying in my country: "tenmei," or destiny. It means that each person is born into this world with a mission bestowed upon them by heaven,” Kagura had said during one of their operations aboard the airship Eriadore. Her words, from that time, when they had narrowly escaped death, were etched in his memory.

“We have overcome every trial so far. That means we must face the final trial head-on and return together, without losing anyone. That is our destiny.”

Her dignified words had stuck with him.

So, dying in a prison was your destiny after all, Balthazar bitterly retorted to the image of Kagura in his mind.

But then, another memory crept in.

“You’re not as cold-hearted as you think you are,” she had once told him, smiling, as they walked along the beach.

Her smile returned to him again and again, along with the vow they had made:

“Even if we become enemies, we will not hate each other.”

“Friendship is eternal.”

Since their imprisonment, those words and her smile had haunted Balthazar, refusing to leave his mind.

I don’t care. Get out of my head. This has nothing to do with me.

Even as he tried to banish Kagura from his thoughts, the image of her being tortured in prison would not leave him alone.

In truth, though he hadn’t told Bott, he hadn’t slept in three days.

It doesn’t matter what happens to her.

They had simply been passengers on the same airship, nothing more, nothing less. He had far greater ambitions than to lose sleep over a mere classmate falling from grace.

Balthazar’s thoughts were interrupted by Bott’s next question.

“And how’s the situation with the Sylvanian royal family? Any progress?”

The colonel’s words were like salt in an already raw wound. Balthazar buried his frustration beneath a calm, rational facade.

“Ten days ago, I met with Lady Colette. She introduced me to one of the former retainers of the Sylvanian royal family. After traveling for two days by train, I met the individual in question, but after a brief investigation, I discovered that he was a man of low character, despised by the people of Santos Island and implicated in corruption.”

“I see. It sounds like Lady Colette set you up.”

“There was no other option but to trust her recommendation. Given that we don’t have an active list of surviving retainers, there was no way to prevent such manipulation.”

“Lady Colette is a shrewd woman. You aren’t the first to try gathering information on the Sylvanian royal family. Many capable individuals have tried and failed, often manipulated by her for her own amusement. You must not have made a very good impression on her.”

Balthazar remained silent.

He had thought he’d made progress during his meeting with Colette, using all the negotiation tactics he’d learned. But now, it was clear he had been played.

He had expended significant resources, time, and effort, only to come away with nothing but frustration.

What a devious woman, Balthazar thought bitterly.

Bott’s voice brought him back to the present.

“Incidentally, I’ve received some interesting information. It seems that one of the Six of Eriadore, Cecil Hauer, visited Lady Colette’s residence yesterday.”

Balthazar’s confusion deepened as he turned to his superior.

“Cecil?”

“According to our spies watching the Avery estate, Cecil arrived without prior notice, yet was immediately allowed entry. She stayed for five hours and even dined with Colette before being sent back to the station in a two-horse carriage. What do you make of that?”

Balthazar was at a loss for words.

It seemed that Cecil and Colette were more than mere acquaintances.

“Who is that girl, really?”

“That’s what I want to know. Her family register places her as a native of Santos Island, where she lost her parents during Uranos’s invasion seven years ago. She’s been living with relatives in St Vault ever since.”

Balthazar crossed his arms, deep in thought.

During their time at the officer’s academy, Cecil and Mio had accompanied him to many high-society events. Both were unnaturally adept at navigating such circles despite their youth.

Mio, as he later learned, had been a spy, likely trained for such roles. But why was Cecil so skilled?

And then there was the visit by Akmed, the King of the Skies, when Kiyoaki and Ilia’s duel had caught everyone’s attention.

At the time, Balthazar had wondered why someone like Akmed would take an interest in a mere student duel. Could it be that Akmed’s true purpose had been to observe someone else?

The thought sent a cold sweat trickling down Balthazar’s temple.

“No, it couldn’t be.”

As the chill crept back up his spine, he tried to shake the idea from his mind.

“It’s impossible… it can’t be true.”

Balthazar shook his head in denial. The very notion was absurd.

That girl, of all people…

The thought alone made his skin crawl.

If what he feared was true, then everything he had ever said or done to Cecil…

Balthazar’s body shook with a fear he had never known. The implications were too terrifying to accept.

Please, let it not be true. Let her be dead, as the official records say.

"Upon arrival, I'll inquire with the operations headquarters' archive to see if there are any photographs or portraits of Princess Elizabeth... There's something that's been bothering me," Balthazar said, his voice slightly more tentative than usual.

"Hmm. I'll leave the task of gathering information on the Sylvanian royal family to you. This could turn out to be more intriguing than I initially thought," Colonel Andy Bott replied, gazing out at the passing cityscape.

For my part, I hope there's nothing intriguing about it at all, Balthazar silently prayed to himself.

Toaru Hikuushi e no Seiyaku:V4Part6

2025-12-05T00:56:05Z

QCore:

Part 6
Unable to Sleep

Kiyoaki sat up from the bunk assigned to him, staring into the darkness. All around him, the loud snores of his fellow pilots echoed. Everyone was exhausted from the day’s fierce battle, fast asleep without a care in the world.

Three hours ago, they had completed the third attack wave and safely returned to the Raven. The day’s mission was over. They had been handed a wet towel each to wipe down with—serving as a substitute for a bath—and were given rations before being ordered to sleep early. The air staff had instructed them to get plenty of rest since tomorrow’s attack on the floating fortress was already scheduled to begin at dawn.

The main enemy fleet had been mostly neutralized. The second fleet was currently stationed in the southern islands, engaging in mopping-up operations against the remaining forces. By tomorrow morning, the enemy’s naval forces would likely be entirely wiped out. The first day’s objectives had been mostly achieved.

But Kiyoaki’s nerves were still on edge, preventing him from falling asleep. The echoes of the air battles that had taken place, one after another, reverberated in his mind.

So many of his comrades had died.

His hands trembled at the mere thought of it.

Mobie, Glenda, Jude, Huey, Diaz, Friedrich, Aegil, Nicola, Corina, Dorothy, Aida…

The memories of their deaths, their final words, and their screams clung to his mind and refused to leave.

Just yesterday, those people had been alive, drinking, enjoying music, and falling in love on the beach. Many of them had faced financial hardships, only to reluctantly go to war in search of a better life after the war. But now, they were all gone, swallowed by the sea.

Why did those good people have to die?

The helpless anger at the loss of his comrades shook Kiyoaki’s chest. The reason the lives of the lower-ranking soldiers were so impoverished was that the government was spending more than half of the national budget on the military. The burden of this fell as heavy taxes on the people, forcing those who wanted to support their families to join the military and go to war, only to be discarded like pawns.

This is wrong. It’s insane.

Kiyoaki was overwhelmed by confusion and dismay, witnessing the deaths of so many lower-ranked soldiers in such quick succession.

Up until now, he had focused solely on defeating Uranos, putting in relentless effort to achieve that goal. He had never given much thought to what happened along the way. His only concern was defeating the enemy, gaining achievements, and one day becoming a commander who would lead an army to destroy Uranos. He had been chasing that grand dream all his life.

But along the way, his comrades had died.

He understood that, intellectually. But experiencing the deaths of his comrades firsthand—the weight of each individual death—began to crack the very foundation of his ideals.

So this is war.

Kiyoaki had thought he had become accustomed to combat after his missions in the enemy skies in the Eriadore and air defence missions over Mauregan Island. But the scale of today’s battle was incomparable. All the previous battles had been mere rehearsals, and today was the real thing.

Decades of time, resources, and money were poured into the creation of these military forces—constructed from the blood, sweat, and tears of the people—only for them to become scrap metal and sink into the sea within hours. Calling it “foolish” didn’t even begin to capture the staggering waste of energy. If that same money had been spent on promoting mutual understanding, cooperation, and building a future that transcended races and borders, how much happiness could have been created?

This is absurd.

The whole world is insane.

Anger boiled within him, making sleep impossible.

Kiyoaki got out of bed and stepped into the corridor. Although they had been instructed not to wander too far within the labyrinth of the carrier, he remembered the way to the deck. As he passed through narrow corridors, listening to the hum of the ship’s engines, he occasionally passed workers going about their duties. Eventually, he climbed a ladder, opened a hatch, and stepped onto the upper deck.

“Ahh…”

A clear, star-filled sky greeted him. The cool sea breeze swept over him, soothing his turbulent thoughts. The stars, which silently looked down on humanity’s folly, were enveloped in profound stillness.

The Raven was anchored at sea, and the ship was under a blackout, so there were no artificial lights, only the pale blue light of the moon and stars bathing the vast deck. Nearby, the carrier Hydeland and other escort ships were also present, but they too were blacked out, making them invisible in the dark.

Kiyoaki stood still, gazing up at the quiet stars, emptying his mind.

He didn’t want to think about anything. If he did, the sorrowful images of the day would come flooding back, and he wasn’t sure he could bear the pain of such losses.

Looking up at the stars, he whispered the name of the person dearest to him.

“Mio…”

Mio, who must be somewhere far away under this same night sky. What was she doing right now?

“I want to see you. I miss you.”

If only Mio were here beside him, Kiyoaki was sure she would cheer him up with her usual encouraging words, giving him a hearty slap on the back and driving away his weakness. She’d probably joke, Stop sulking, you wimp, or What are you getting all sentimental about? with that mischievous smile of hers, teasing him while secretly offering comfort.

But Mio was no longer by his side.

“Kiyoaki.”

A sudden voice from behind made him jump, and he turned quickly.

“Illia. You’re awake?”

“…Yeah. Couldn’t sleep.”

Illia stood on the upper deck in her flight suit.

The blue light of the stars and the moon outlined her figure, casting her in a ghostly glow.

“Same here. I couldn’t sleep either.”

“…I see. …Yeah. I think I’m feeling the same as you right now.”

“…I understand.”

“…Their screams… I can’t get them out of my head.”

“…Me neither. I don’t want to hear those voices ever again…”

As their comrades fell, hurtling toward the sea, each had uttered their final, heart-wrenching cries. Some had thanked their comrades, others screamed that they didn’t want to die. Some called out for their mothers, others begged for their families to hear their last words. Those anguished voices echoed endlessly in Kiyoaki’s mind.

Illia, always so stoic, tough, and cold like a machine, now looked fragile, as if she might snap like a delicate young tree.

“…If I had noticed earlier, maybe I could have saved Corina. But I was too focused on chasing another enemy, and I didn’t realize she was right nearby, being pursued… Because of that…”

Illia’s voice trembled.

Kiyoaki had witnessed Corina’s plane spiralling downward, her cockpit engulfed in flames, after losing a wing.

“It’s burning! Somebody help me! Put out the fire! It’s burning, it’s so hot!!”

Her desperate screams had filled the speakers, followed by the silence after her plane crashed into the ocean. Just thinking about it made Kiyoaki’s stomach churn.

“…It wasn’t your fault, Illia. Our job was to protect Kagura, and we did that. There’s no reason to blame yourself.”

“…Yeah. …But still. If only I had kept my composure, if I had the presence of mind to see the bigger picture…”

Kiyoaki had never seen Illia look so fragile. But it was no wonder—despite her usual toughness, she was only nineteen. After a whole day on the battlefield, it was natural for anyone’s nerves to be frayed.

A pang of helplessness stirred within Kiyoaki.

He wanted to comfort her, to cheer her up, but the right words wouldn’t come. In fact, Kiyoaki himself felt just as drained and worn out as Illia.

“And Diaz… he was shot down by an enemy I couldn’t finish off. I gave up the chase, thinking I’d overextend, but that enemy turned around, and Diaz…”

Illia’s voice shook as she continued to blame herself. No matter how much she berated herself, it wouldn’t bring the dead back. But Illia, with her strong sense of responsibility, couldn’t forgive her own failures and kept connecting her comrades’ deaths to her actions.

“Illia, enough. I can’t stand to see you like this.”

“But… If only I’d chased that enemy a little longer. If I hadn’t given up so easily, if I had just kept firing, even if I missed… that enemy wouldn’t have gone after Diaz.”

“Stop it already. No amount of blaming yourself will change anything!”

Kiyoaki’s frustration boiled over, and his voice grew harsh.

Illia lifted her tearful eyes, her face on the verge of breaking into sobs.

“Because… it’s my fault, isn’t it…!?”

Her voice faltered as she pressed her face into Kiyoaki’s chest.

Instinctively, Kiyoaki pulled Illia closer, holding her tight against him, silencing her trembling lips with his chest.

The warmth of Illia’s body, her heartbeat, was transmitted through the embrace.

The rhythm of a living person.

Words weren’t needed. Kiyoaki squeezed her tighter. Right now, Illia didn’t need a thousand words; she needed the warmth of another human being.

When they had first met, she had seemed so intimidating, haughty, and cold, like a machine. But now, as he held her close, he realized that the girl in his arms was fragile, tender, and kind—so much so that she seemed about to break.

Illia’s trembling hands slowly, awkwardly, moved to wrap around Kiyoaki’s back.

Illia clung to him.

Their chests pressed together, and through that contact, they could feel each other’s heartbeats. The rhythm of life, played out in real-time, told them what words could not.

Kiyoaki realized how deeply he cared for Illia.

I have to be the one to support this weak, fragile girl by her side.

“Illia…”

He whispered her name. The starlight poured down on her, making her hair shine like a field of silver. Kiyoaki gently ran his fingers through it. Unable to suppress his racing heart, he held her tightly, albeit clumsily, with his other hand.

The horrific scenes of the battlefield began to melt away, replaced by the softness and warmth of Illia.

As if trying to shake off the memories of so much death, Kiyoaki and Illia pressed their cheeks against each other, feeling the warmth of their breaths and the rhythm of their heartbeats.

We’re alive.

The sheer miracle of that fact brought tears to Kiyoaki’s eyes. Witnessing so much death had only heightened the importance of the life they still had.
[[File:IlliaCrying.png|thumb]]
“Illia…”

Unable to let go, wanting to stay like this forever, but unable to find the words to express his feelings, Kiyoaki just kept calling Illia’s name, resting his cheek against her hair.

Illia said nothing in response, but she accepted Kiyoaki’s embrace in silence.

Illia’s slender hands, awkwardly clasped, clung tightly to Kiyoaki, refusing to let go.

Kiyoaki stopped thinking. He let go of everything—tomorrow’s dawn attack, the mission procedures, the operational plans—and focused only on the presence of Illia.

There was no guarantee they would survive tomorrow’s battle. Tomorrow could very well be the last day of his life. That’s why, more than anything, he wanted to cherish this moment with someone dear to him.

Kiyoaki slowly pulled away from Illia, their foreheads parting, and he gazed into her eyes from up close.

Illia, too, silently stared back at him. Her once tear-filled eyes now only reflected the serene night sky and Kiyoaki.

A breeze from the sea passed through, causing Illia’s long hair to sway gently in the wind.

Her slightly parted lips trembled ever so faintly.

Without words, her eyes spoke—telling Kiyoaki that she was ready to accept him completely.

Without thinking, Kiyoaki began to lean in to press his lips against hers.

But then—

I know this feeling.

A sudden, familiar sensation echoed in his mind.

The softness of a girl’s body… the warmth of holding someone like this. I’ve felt this before.

This scent and warmth… this isn’t the first time.

In Illia’s eyes, a different pair of eyes began to overlap.

Mio.

Out of nowhere, Kiyoaki’s memory of that night resurfaced—the night he and Mio had crash-landed on a deserted island and spent the night together.

Mio had said it was all a dream, but it wasn’t.

This is the second time I’ve held a girl like this in my arms.

Like a thunderclap, the truth pierced through his mind.

It wasn’t logical. His entire body just knew.

That night… I did something to Mio that can never be undone.

At last, Kiyoaki realized what had happened. His mind cleared, and he finally understood why Mio had tried to cover it up.

Back then, Mio was already being forced to betray someone.

That’s why she lied to avoid causing me any trouble…

The experience that Mio had dismissed as a dream was real. His memory still held the feel of her bare skin, her fleeting voice, and the delicate hands that had wrapped around his back.

And now, as he held Illia, he felt the same sensation.

That night, I held Mio the same way, kissed her, and took all of her for myself.

And now, here he was, about to do the same to Illia.

The moment he realized this, his heart shattered.

I’m such a fool. I’m the worst kind of man.

Though he held Illia tightly in his arms, Kiyoaki’s mind was consumed with thoughts of Mio.

“I’m going to be Kiyoaki’s bride!”

The image of Mio smiling in the canola fields on Messus Island, wearing a tiara of flowers, overlapped with Illia’s face.

“No cheating! We promised we’d get married!”

It was such a silly childhood promise.

But now, that tiny promise weighed heavily on Kiyoaki’s heart.

If I fall in love with Illia, Mio will cry.

I can’t make Mio cry again…

Kiyoaki pulled his hand from Illia’s hair and gently loosened the arms that had held her close. In a small voice, he asked her,

“…Are you okay? Can you stand on your own?”

Illia continued to gaze at him with those star-filled eyes, still not saying a word.

Kiyoaki placed both hands on her shoulders, speaking as softly as he could manage.

“…We’re officers. Right now, it’s fine. But tomorrow, we can’t show this weakness.”

“……………………”

“…For now, it’s fine. You can vent, cry, whatever you need. Just let it all out. Tell me everything that’s in your heart.”

“……………………”

“…Tomorrow is another battle. We can’t afford to die here. We have to stay strong… Even if we have to force ourselves to act like officers.”

The wind had stopped. Illia’s hair, which had been flowing in the breeze, settled down against her back, and the familiar liveliness began to slowly return to her star-filled eyes.

“…Yeah. I know. We’re officers… We have to keep it together,” Illia murmured, as if reassuring herself. She looked down for a moment, steeling her expression, and then lifted her face again.

“…I showed you something pathetic. Forget it.”

“…Not at all. It’s normal. There’s nothing pathetic about it. That’s what being human is.”

“…Sorry. I’ll be fine tomorrow. I’ll act like an officer should.”

“…Yeah. But if it gets tough, just tell me. I might not be able to say anything clever, but I can listen. I’d be happy if you told me.”

Illia looked up at the stars, took a deep breath, and reclaimed her usual confident, tomboyish demeanour.

“…Let’s go back. We need to get some sleep for tomorrow. It’s going to be a long day again.”

“…Right. Yeah, tomorrow’s going to be even tougher than today…”

“We have to survive… We can’t die. We have to come back alive…”

“I know. We’ll both come back alive, Illia and I.”

Their eyes met, and then, side by side, they walked toward the hatch that led off the deck.

Though a lingering feeling of reluctance clung to Kiyoaki, he pushed it aside, said his final goodnight to Illia, and headed back to the barracks.

He crawled into his bed, closed his eyes, and waited for sleep to come.

But his mind remained wide awake. The sensation of holding Illia’s back and the memory of Mio’s bare form from that stormy night still clung to every cell in his body.

Mio…

The lie you told is too painful.

It’s too sad, and I feel so guilty… I don’t know what to do.

Tears welled up in Kiyoaki’s eyes. Frustrated, he scolded himself, wiping them away with his fingers. But the thought of Mio’s feelings gnawed at him, making it impossible to stay still.

If only I could fly to Pleiades right now.

If only I could get you back and apologize.

Overcome with indescribable emotion, Kiyoaki suddenly stood up and banged his head against the wall. He bit his lip so hard it bled, all while repeatedly whispering apologies to the absent Mio.

As he struck his head against the wall, he searched for the path he should follow.

What I have to do now is win tomorrow’s battle.

Capture the flying fortress, defeat Uranos, and one day conquer Pleiades.

Repeating this to himself, Kiyoaki continued to bash his head against the steel wall until one of his fellow pilots, awakened by the noise, rushed over and stopped him. Blood trickled from his forehead, but Kiyoaki couldn’t stop. Though he knew this wouldn’t atone for anything, he desperately wanted to punish his dull, irresponsible, impulsive self.

He knew hurting himself wouldn’t make up for anything, but in that moment, it was all he could think to do.

The enemy was desperate. It was life or death for them, and Leo’s voice echoed through the speaker with a grim reminder.

“Don’t underestimate the enemy. Stay focused. Keep your cool, always watch your surroundings, and never allow yourself to be isolated.”

Kiyoaki fixed his gaze on the enemy shapes illuminated by the dawn’s light, hearing Leo’s calm yet urgent words. Ahead, in the sea just beyond the Great Falls, the enemy’s flying fortress, Kalkinos, floated ominously, awaiting the full-on assault of the St Vault Naval Air Force. In the surrounding airspace, a massive formation of enemy fighter jets swarmed like countless particles of dust.

His hands on the control stick were already slick with sweat just from the sight. The enemy must have called for reinforcements overnight from bases scattered across the Southern Archipelago. The enemy’s formation was overwhelming. Almost every Uranos fighter jet deployed to the region seemed to be gathered around the fortress, with nearly ninety planes spread across three altitudes—6,000 meters, 3,000 meters, and 1,000 meters.

The Voltec Air Squadron only had 35 Beo-Eagles, but they had no choice but to take control of this airspace. Without doing so, the follow-up forces wouldn’t be able to launch their assault.

“We are a team, and our strength lies in that. Do not push forward recklessly. If we fight as one, we will find our opening,” Leo’s steady voice brought a sense of calm to all of them. Kiyoaki took a deep breath, cooling the heat rising inside his head.

He hadn’t slept at all the previous night.

His thoughts were still swirling, but there was no turning back now. This battle had to be won.

I will win. For Mio.

But to do that, I must stay calm.

Through Leo’s relentless warnings and his own battle experience, Kiyoaki had learned the importance of keeping his cool. Every time he had fallen into danger, it was because he had gotten overconfident or let the thrill of another kill overheat his mind.

Abandon your emotions. Become steel. Be a machine, built only to bring down the enemy.

He repeated this to himself like a mantra.

“We move now. This is the turning point in our empire’s history. Show them the pride of the Voltec Air Squadron!” Leo’s command came through, and he increased his speed. A roar of affirmation filled the speakers as the rest of the squadron responded.

Kiyoaki opened his throttle, his eyes cold and clear as he focused on Kagura’s lead aircraft. On her left wing, Illia was flying right alongside her.

They were at an altitude of 5,500 meters, already flying high, but the enemy had taken up position even higher, around 6,000 meters, likely having studied their tactics from the day before. It wouldn’t be easy this time.

30 Ion fighters, descending from above, rushed down like an avalanche.

At the same time, enemy planes below were manoeuvring to flank them. Outnumbered, the Voltec Air Squadron would inevitably have enemies at their back, making the role of the wingmen crucial. Today, more than ever, Kiyoaki couldn’t afford to lose sight of Kagura.

Become a hunk of steel. For Kagura’s sake.

He drilled the resolve deep into his consciousness.

Through the descending swarm of enemy planes, he could make out the monstrous silhouette of the flying fortress.

Until I bring down that beast, I am nothing but steel.

In an instant, they collided with the enemy formation.

“Engage!”

“Let’s get them! This one’s for Jude!”

“Watch me, Glenda! I’ll make sure we win!”

The voices of his comrades filled the radio, mixed with the deafening roar of propellers. The steel hawks clashed, tearing the sky apart with hundreds of burning talons.

Outside the cockpit, the sky turned into a maelstrom of ash, flame, and tracer fire.

But Kiyoaki remained calm. He discarded all feelings, all thoughts except for Kagura’s tail and the surrounding enemy planes.

Kagura, too, had fallen silent on the radio, fully trusting Kiyoaki and Illia to cover her as she focused on pursuing the enemy.

Her plane’s guns flared, and an Ion fighter in front of her exploded in flames. The three of them flew through the fiery debris, not stopping to celebrate, immediately swinging into another sharp turn in pursuit of the next target.

Right flank, above. Enemy.

His instincts flared as he glanced upward. A descending Ion fighter was targeting Kagura. She hadn’t noticed. Kiyoaki pushed the throttle, turning upward to meet the attacker.

He didn’t need to destroy it. Just change its trajectory. He calmly aimed and fired a warning burst, forcing the enemy to swerve away.

“Kiyoaki, you saved me. I didn’t see that one.”

“Focus on taking them down. I’ll cover you.”

“Thanks. Let’s keep going.”

Kagura’s voice was steady. After yesterday’s battle, she had clearly grown more composed and effective.

As Kagura picked out another target and surged forward, Kiyoaki followed, becoming the beast of steel once again.

They tore through more flames, cutting through smoke trails and darting through the rapidly changing sky, Kiyoaki staying right with Kagura, guarding her every move.

How many enemies had Kagura shot down by now? He couldn’t tell. He only heard her cold voice over the radio, reporting another kill.

His only purpose was to guard her, to protect her from harm.

All around him, the clear morning sky had been tainted with the blood, flames, and smoke of countless dying lives.

Screams and names of fallen comrades echoed through the radio, but Kiyoaki blocked them out.

He could feel it—something foreign in the battlefield. A monstrous presence, beyond human, was lurking in the airspace. Though invisible, its killing intent brushed past Kiyoaki like a whisper, claiming his comrades one by one.

Abandon your humanity.

I am steel. I do not feel sadness.

Kiyoaki’s mind repeated this truth over and over. Losing control would mean death. It would mean failing to protect Kagura.

Steel doesn’t cry.

His eyes never left Kagura’s tail. This was not the time to grieve for fallen comrades. His sole mission was to stay with Kagura, to destroy the enemy, and to keep her safe.

No one will lay a finger on Kagura.

His mind focused solely on this.

“We’re pushing forward! Keep going!” Leo’s order rang out. The air battle was shifting—what had been a melee was now turning into a chase, as the Voltec Squadron began driving the scattered enemy back. Though outnumbered, their skill and coordination were overwhelming Uranos. The rigorous formation combat training they had endured was now paying off in full.

Leo’s squad surged toward the surface of the flying fortress, Kalkinos, with nearly thirty of their comrades following close behind. The enemy fighters had retreated westward to regroup, leaving roughly twenty in their wake. In a short time, the battle had been brought to a near stalemate.

Voltec Squadron really is the strongest!

Uranos had thrown nearly all their latest fighters into this battle, three times the number of the Voltec Squadron, but it had been for nothing. Kiyoaki couldn’t help but feel that Voltec was truly unmatched.

“Second fleet is arriving. The real battle starts now!”

Leo’s voice pulled Kiyoaki from his thoughts, and he glanced back.

There, on the horizon, the enormous Great Falls tore across the world.

Above it, sixteen flying warships, like massive whales in the sky, were advancing in perfect cube formation.

At the centre of the formation were the massive flying battleships Rivière and Red Deer, with their turrets already aimed skyward. Escort fighters from the first fleet flew around them, scanning for threats. It was clear that the second fleet was preparing to bombard the fortress with full force.

Kiyoaki turned his focus forward again.

The massive silhouette of the floating island now loomed directly before them.

The anti-aircraft guns mounted along the perimeter began their relentless barrage, a curtain of explosions and shrapnel unfurling in front of the Voltec Air Squadron. Yet, Leo didn’t flinch. He led the squadron into the storm. The island grew larger by the second, and in a flash, the azure sea below was replaced by the earth-toned landscape of the island’s surface.

Kalkinos, they had been told, spanned approximately 25 kilometres in length and 7.5 kilometres in width. A mountainous area, roughly 500 meters tall, sat on one side, with rivers flowing from its peaks, cascading over the island’s edge in thin streams, disappearing into the distant ocean below. Kiyoaki had seen this view from afar during the surprise assault on Air Hunt Island, but witnessing it now, from above, was breathtaking in its magnitude and detail.

Anti-aircraft guns, naval cannons, three airfields, two naval ports for flying vessels, and a range of Civilian infrastructure—waterworks, a desalination plant, roads, administrative districts, commercial centres with wide plazas, markets, orchards, parks, and residential areas—all revealed themselves in a single pass. It was a fortress, yes, but also a city, much like a medieval castle-town, fully self-sufficient with a closed economy.

This is just like Air Hunt Island. Ordinary people are living on this flying island!

Kiyoaki realized that while Kalkinos was a military stronghold, it was also a functioning city. A glimpse into the mysterious Uranos empire revealed a bit more—this aerial society lived in such places, with twelve flying cities and their capital, Pleiades. They controlled the ground through superior airpower, planting their people in satellite nations as colonizers. Kiyoaki could only speculate that while the Uranos people living on the ground formed a middle class, those in the skies were the elites, with the nobility residing in Pleiades.

If we could capture this fortress today, if we could recover documents, weapons, or even prisoners, we might finally unlock the secrets of Uranos.

Suddenly, Leo’s sharp voice cut through Kiyoaki’s thoughts.

“Incoming! They’re regrouping, left 120 degrees!” Leo shouted, pulling Kiyoaki back into the moment.

Kiyoaki turned in the direction indicated. Twenty or so enemy planes were closing in, ready to engage them again on the surface.

“Observer planes are up! Protect them!” Leo ordered.

Having secured air superiority, three of their observation planes had launched from the battleship’s catapult and were now flying over Kalkinos. At the same time, explosions erupted across the enemy’s airfields as the battleships Rivière and Red Deer opened fire with their 46 cm main guns. Their observation planes were helping correct fire, and soon the second volley would follow. Kalkinos returned fire, but in this three-dimensional space, the fast-moving Voltec ships had the upper hand. Furthermore, Uranos lacked observation planes due to their inferior airpower, giving the St Vault fleet a precision advantage.

The job of the Voltec Air Squadron now was to protect the observation planes at all costs. The battle would continue until the enemy surface defences were neutralized by their ships’ bombardment.

“There’s a skilled pilot in that group—the one who took down Jude and Glenda yesterday. Don’t let him near the observers!” Leo warned.

Kiyoaki’s senses heightened as he glanced toward the approaching enemy planes. He could feel it—something powerful and dangerous lurked among them. Though he hadn’t engaged it directly, one fighter moved with an inhuman level of skill, unlike anything he’d seen before.

Could it be…?

His instinct for battle flared hot.

If that’s who I think it is, I want to be the one to take him down!

“Kiyoaki, Illia, the priority is the observers,” Kagura’s voice cut through his battle-hungry thoughts. He realized, with a start, that he had been fixating on that dangerous presence instead of Kagura’s tail. Kagura must have sensed his thoughts and continued.

“I saw the black panther nose art. That’s Karnasion—the one who’s been taking down our comrades.”

The King of the Skies, Karnasion.

Kagura had already identified him among the enemy. In their last battle, Illia had lost a one-on-one duel with Karnasion and was forced to parachute out. Karnasion had toyed with her, circling her descent like a predator and searing the memory of his mocking gaze into her mind. Since then, Illia had been haunted by his face, suffering from insomnia.

Illia was likely scanning the air for Karnasion as well, driven by her need to redeem herself from that humiliation.

“Whatever happens, do not engage Karnasion. We cannot defeat him,” Kagura said firmly.

“……”

“Understood, Illia?” Kagura pressed.

“…Yes,” came Illia’s terse reply, but her frustration was palpable even through the radio. Kiyoaki understood that Kagura was right, though. Their skills weren’t enough to take on Karnasion. Every instinct Kiyoaki had told him so.

Leo’s voice then cut through the tension.

“We’ll handle the Black Panther. Hamilton’s squad and mine will hold him off. Six of us should be enough to keep him in check. The rest of you, focus on protecting the observers.”

“…Understood!” Kiyoaki and the others responded.

Leo and Hamilton’s squads, comprised of the finest pilots in the St Vault Naval Air Force, would engage Karnasion. With six against one, even Karnasion wouldn’t be able to act with impunity.

“Here they come! Sweep them aside!” Leo’s command roared through the speaker as the enemy fighters surged toward them. The Voltec Air Squadron pivoted to meet them in a vicious melee, the anti-aircraft fire from Kalkinos ceasing to avoid hitting their own planes.

The second fleet’s bombardment of the fortress intensified. The observation planes continued their delicate task of adjusting artillery fire, while the enemy’s Ion fighters desperately pushed toward them, trying to break through. The Voltec squadron threw themselves in the way, shielding the observation planes with their bodies, turning aside attack after attack.

Kiyoaki followed Kagura, shooting down enemy planes as they appeared in his sights, covering her every move. Then, suddenly, an enemy fighter rushed headlong at Kagura, seemingly out of nowhere.

Trailing closely behind the enemy was Leo’s squad—three planes—and Hamilton’s squad, another three.

“Karnasion!”

Kagura reacted instantly, pulling her plane into a sharp dive to evade the attack.

“Damn it!” Kiyoaki bit his lip and followed her in pursuit, but he noticed that Illia was falling behind.

“Illia, don’t!” Kagura shouted, her voice tinged with panic. Illia was holding her ground, waiting for Karnasion to engage.

Kiyoaki screamed into the radio, “Illia, stop! You can’t win!”

For a brief moment, Illia hesitated, his voice cutting through her focus. Then, with a frustrated growl, she banked away, pulling her plane back to Kagura’s side. Karnasion flew past them, leading the six Voltec planes on a high-speed chase.

Skimming just above the surface of Kalkinos, Kiyoaki’s squad pulled up, confirming that the observation planes were safe for now.

“You made the right choice, Illia,” Kagura said, her voice calm but full of relief.
[[File:Beo-Eagle2.png|thumb]]
Kagura praised Illia for calming down, but Illia’s voice over the radio was tinged with guilt.

“…I’m sorry. I got carried away,” Illia said.

“There will be another chance. Still, Karnasion’s skill is something else. Even with six of our best, they can’t pin him down…” Kagura replied.

Kiyoaki glanced back at the scene unfolding behind them. Karnasion was seemingly toying with the six elite pilots of St Vault, effortlessly evading their attacks like a dance of mockery. His manoeuvres resembled more an acrobat’s performance than traditional aerial combat. Instead of relying on speed, Karnasion manipulated his plane’s movements like a writhing worm, twisting and turning as he disrupted his own propeller’s thrust, keeping his plane airborne at low speeds. By doing this, he avoided gunfire while luring his enemies into his line of fire.

It was aerial combat like nothing Kiyoaki had ever seen—more a display of bizarre, serpentine flight patterns than a dogfight.

Is this… how the King of the Skies fights?

Even Master Akmed doesn’t fly like this… I’ve never seen anything like it…

Meanwhile, the second fleet’s bombardment continued. Kalkinos’s first airfield was now engulfed in flames, from the control tower to the hangars. The runway itself was riddled with craters and completely unusable. Under the cover of Voltec Air Squadron, the observation planes moved to the second airfield, guiding the next barrage of attacks.

The situation was dire for Kalkinos, as more and more of its defences were being obliterated. To compound the assault, thirty Seal Sailor bombers from the fortress of Chandler had arrived, each carrying one-ton bombs and two 500-kilogram bombs. These massive planes, though slow and vulnerable, were here to finish the job.

Two Voltec squadrons broke off to escort the bombers. Though the Ion fighters tried to disrupt the attack, the Voltec squadron shielded the lumbering bombers, protecting them with their lives.

Bombs fell on Kalkinos, targeting the anti-aircraft batteries. Explosions tore through the high-caliber guns, and thick black smoke began to choke the skies above the fortress. As Kiyoaki watched the devastation below, he understood the importance of controlling the skies.

This is what it means to win a war—whoever controls the air, controls the battle.

If the Voltec squadron hadn’t secured air superiority, the observation planes and bombers would have been easy prey for the Ion fighters. But thanks to their efforts, the ground forces now had free rein to rain destruction upon the fortress.

We can win this!

The remaining Ion fighters were barely holding their formations, with their once-proud forces now on the brink of collapse under Voltec’s relentless assault. However, one exception stood tall.

“Toby! Damn it, don’t go, Toby!” Hamilton’s voice echoed in despair through the speaker.

Kiyoaki’s eyes darted toward the scene.

Through the flames and smoke, he spotted a group of tangled fighters. One of them was trailing fire, its wings torn away, spiralling down toward the mountains of Kalkinos before smashing into the cliffs.

“Damn it, Toby!”

“Stay calm, Hamilton, they’re still coming!”

“Watch your six! You’re being targeted!”

“I’m taking this bandaged bastard down!”

The radio was filled with shouts, curses, and cries. It was clear—Karnasion had taken down another fighter, this time Toby’s. Even with five of St Vault’s finest pilots chasing him, Karnasion seemed invincible, continuing to take them down one by one.

To be able to not just evade, but defeat six elite pilots like this—it was clear why Karnasion was called the “King of the Skies.” His combat skills were simply on another level.

“Shouldn’t we support Captain Leo?” Illia’s voice came through, full of anger but also a desperation to stop the deaths of their comrades.

Kiyoaki hesitated for a moment before echoing the suggestion.

“The observation planes are secure. We should support them.”

Kagura didn’t respond immediately, prompting Kiyoaki to press further.

“The battle is already in our favour. There’s no need for more of our comrades to die.”

“I won’t take unnecessary risks. I’ll act as your shield if I have to—anything to minimize our losses,” Illia added, more insistent than usual.

After a pause, Kagura finally gave her order.

“…Alright. We’ll move to cover Captain Leo. But don’t take unnecessary risks. This is only support.”

“Yes, ma’am!”

The three of them, united as one, moved to assist Leo and his squadron.

The bombardment of Kalkinos continued to intensify, and the fortress itself shook from the relentless onslaught. The price in blood that Voltec Air Squadron had paid was now being returned in the form of certain victory. And with the tide turning, none of them wanted to see any more of their comrades fall.

Karnasion, meanwhile, was expertly using the mountainous terrain of Kalkinos to evade the remaining five fighters chasing him. He knew the layout of the ridges and valleys intimately, using them to weave in and out of their grasp, counterattacking whenever they pressed too hard. Leo and his team couldn’t afford to follow him too closely, as doing so risked crashing into the mountainside. It was clear—Karnasion was using the terrain to neutralize their numerical advantage.

“This is bad… our numbers are useless in this fight,” Kagura muttered over the radio.

Kiyoaki nodded in agreement. But even though the situation was grim, this was a golden opportunity. If they let Karnasion escape now, he would only continue to claim the lives of their comrades in future battles. They needed to eliminate him while they still had the upper hand in numbers.

Kagura’s plane took a position further back, trailing behind Leo’s squadron. She signalled her intention to provide cover as they chased Karnasion, keeping a height advantage of about 500 meters over the enemy ace.

From above, Karnasion looked like a serpent slithering along the mountainside. His erratic, low-speed movements were bizarre, constantly twisting and turning, as if mocking the efforts of those trying to take him down.

Hamilton, desperate to avenge his fallen wingman, was pushing hard to get Karnasion into his sights, but despite the eight planes surrounding him, Karnasion slipped away every time, his unpredictable movements making it impossible to lock onto him. Their superior speed was a disadvantage here—pressing too hard meant overshooting and exposing themselves to Karnasion’s counterattacks.

“This bastard… this bastard… damn it!” Hamilton’s curses were audible even over the chaos.

Hamilton’s furious curses came through the speaker, his voice shaking with rage. Having witnessed his close friend Toby’s destruction, it was clear that Hamilton could see nothing but Karnasion.

“Hamilton, calm down! He’s baiting you!” Leo’s warning fell on deaf ears. It was no use. Kiyoaki understood all too well—if Kagura or Illia had been shot down in front of him, he would likely be in the same blind rage as Hamilton.

Suddenly, Karnasion pulled his plane sharply to the right, exposing his side to Hamilton. It looked like a blatant mistake, as if Karnasion was inviting Hamilton to shoot him down.

“I’ve got you now…!” Hamilton’s voice rang out.

But in the next moment, a massive fireball erupted in the sky.

Shards of metal scattered like glittering fragments under the summer sun.

Karnasion emerged from the explosion, his nose pointing diagonally upward, sliding through the air in a seemingly impossible manoeuvre—a mocking acrobatic stunt that had no place in a battlefield.

Kiyoaki watched in stunned silence, mouth agape. Lulu’s scream broke through the radio.

“Hamilton! No, Hamilton!!”

“What just happened? What’s going on!?”

“It’s a hidden anti-air battery! There’s a flak gun hidden in the forest!”

Kiyoaki squinted and saw, right below where Hamilton had been shot down, the silvery glint of a long anti-aircraft gun barrel poking out from the mountainside, smoke still trailing from its muzzle. Karnasion had guided Hamilton right into the trap, knowing where the hidden gun was all along.

Without a scream, Hamilton’s plane shattered into countless pieces, raining down upon the hidden flak gun.

Hamilton, who used to laugh so heartily on the beach, had been reduced to nothing but debris. He had joined the military to pay off his family’s shoe store debt, hoping for a decent life after the war. But here he was, meeting a tragic end in a place so far removed from that dream.

“You bastard, you’re going to pay for this!” roared Sebastian, the last surviving member of Hamilton’s squadron. Lulu and Lala’s desperate voices overlapped on the radio.

“Don’t, Sebastian! Don’t chase him down!”

Leo shouted as well.

“Fall back! We don’t have the advantage! We can’t take him on!”

But none of their warnings reached Sebastian. With cries of rage, he pursued Karnasion.

“You took out Jude! You took out Hamilton! You bastard!!”

Kiyoaki knew how close the three of them had been. Always joking, drinking, and womanizing, but despite their crudeness, they had accepted him and Illia as comrades without hesitation. Their rough exterior masked a kindness at their core.

Kiyoaki could feel Sebastian’s fury, deep in his own heart.

But…

You can’t beat Karnasion.

Sebastian will die too.

“Fall back, Sebastian! It’s frustrating, it’s painful, but this situation is too dangerous!”

Kiyoaki knew his words would likely not reach him, but he couldn’t stay silent. He couldn’t bear to see any more of his comrades die. The battle was already won—there was no need for further bloodshed.

But Sebastian ignored the calls to retreat, desperately swerving left and right as he chased Karnasion, who led him into a canyon.

“Stop, get out of there!” Leo’s voice pleaded, but Sebastian was lost in his fury.

From above, Kiyoaki saw Karnasion abruptly straighten his flight path, an odd move for someone who had been twisting and turning just moments before.

Sebastian took the bait, pressing his advantage.

But just ahead of him, the canyon walls loomed, jagged and unforgiving.

“Pull up!” Kiyoaki screamed.

Too late.

Sebastian’s plane burst into flames as it collided with the canyon wall, exploding into a grotesque ball of fire. Shards of metal and bits of flesh were scattered across the blue sky.

Karnasion had deliberately lured Sebastian into the canyon, knowing the terrain intimately. The sudden curve in the canyon had trapped Sebastian, who couldn’t pull up in time. Karnasion, aware of the danger, had accelerated just enough to force Sebastian into the rock face.

This brutal, unforgiving sky didn’t allow for any emotional mistakes—not even when a friend or loved one was shot down right in front of you. To survive, you had to remain calm, no matter the cost.

Karnasion continued to ascend, as if mocking his pursuers, soaring higher and higher into the summer sky.

The radio was filled with screams and curses, voices too garbled to understand. The collective anguish, fury, and despair weighed down on the battlefield.

Karnasion began to trace an unusual curve in the sky.

He climbed slowly, still twisting and turning like a worm writhing through the air. It was an ugly, unsightly manoeuvre, lacking the elegance typically associated with aerial combat.

The sky itself seemed to be defiled by Karnasion’s grotesque flight.

It was a horrifying sight. Kiyoaki couldn’t even begin to fathom how anyone could bring down such an opponent. Karnasion’s presence felt like an insurmountable force—a true King of the Skies.

If we chase him, we’ll be shot down.

Kiyoaki’s hands trembled as they gripped the control stick. He had never felt such fear while flying before.

“Enough! Don’t chase him. We can’t win!” Leo’s decisive voice cut through the chaos.

Normally, Leo would never issue such a defeatist command, but after witnessing Karnasion’s mastery of the skies, there was no choice but to agree.

“We’ve lost enough. The battle is over—we’re heading back!”

Leo turned his plane away from the battlefield, leaving Karnasion behind. Lulu and Lala hesitated for a moment, but they too followed Leo’s lead.

Everyone felt the same frustration. They all wanted revenge. But they knew chasing Karnasion would only lead to more losses. No matter how much it hurt, they had to maintain their composure.

“Let’s go, Kiyoaki. We may have lost to Karnasion, but we’ve won the battle,” Kagura urged.

Kiyoaki banked his plane and followed Kagura’s lead, turning his back on Karnasion. The enemy ace made no move to pursue, simply continuing his hideous dance in the sky, likely revelling in his victory.

I’ll get you someday. I swear, I’ll shoot you down.

For all our fallen comrades—I will take you down!

With that vow burning in his heart, Kiyoaki followed Leo, heading back to the carrier Raven as the battle finally came to an end.

The First Air Fleet, centred around regular carriers, launched repeated attacks on the flying fortress Kalkinos. Due to heavy losses, Kiyoaki and the Voltec Air Squadron were tasked with the less dangerous mission of mopping up the remaining enemies on the surface. After an hour, the Ions had disappeared, and the skies above the decisive battle were fully under the control of the St Vault Air and Naval Forces.

Kalkinos’ defensive facilities were almost completely neutralized by heavy bombers and the Second Fleet’s bombardment. By 4 PM, two thousand paratroopers began descending from airships, marking the first airborne assault on a flying fortress in the history of the St Vault forces. With aerial support, the paratroopers engaged in fierce land battles with Uranos ground troops, struggling to establish a foothold.

The battle continued well into the night. Airships dropped bullets and building materials as the paratroopers, guiding naval artillery by radio, worked to establish defensive strongpoints for the next wave of reinforcements. By 1 AM, after securing a section of the right bank, landing craft equipped with hoisting gear rushed in, bringing in a total of twenty thousand ground troops, who finally set foot on the surface of Kalkinos.

Realizing the dire situation, Kalkinos’ commander, Lysander Kepler, quickly burned important documents, blew up the city hall and central command, and retreated to an underground bunker with his personal guards. This rendered Kalkinos inoperable, leaving it to drift at 2,000 meters altitude, carried by the wind.

The remaining Uranos forces fought bravely. Combatants entrenched themselves in underground facilities, while even the civilian residents of Kalkinos, despite being non-combatants, armed themselves with rifles and automatic weapons, retreating into the mountainous areas, refusing to surrender.

Two days after the landing, by 10 AM, St Vault ground forces had seized the naval ports, airfields, and all anti-aircraft batteries. However, Uranos regular forces and militia continued their guerilla resistance from mountain hideouts and undiscovered underground facilities.

A week after the landing, while continuing to mop up the remnants, St Vault forces discovered and stormed the underground command centre on Kalkinos’ right bank. The entrenched Uranos soldiers resisted until the end, with all 25 of them killed in action. The defeated Lysander activated the self-destruct switches for Kalkinos’ propulsion system and rudders before placing a gun to his temple and pulling the trigger.

The next morning, the St Vault Naval Air Operations Command declared the completion of Operation “Thundersteel.” The series of sea and air battles near the Great Waterfall was named the Battle of Sierra Greed, and the captured flying fortress Kalkinos was renamed Odin. Research into its operational capabilities began, aiming to make it the primary force for controlling the Archipelago.

The Battle of Sierra Greed resulted in the destruction of 80% of the Uranos-Hydrabard Alliance’s naval forces in the South Archipelago Sea. Though fortresses on the islands remained, having lost control of the seas, it was nearly impossible for them to halt the St Vault advance.

The course of the Hydrabard War had been decided.

At the same time, it signalled the beginning of a new struggle for dominance over the Archipelago Sea.

Kiyoaki and the rest of the Voltec Air Squadron completed their relocation to the third airfield of the flying fortress Odin two days after Lysander’s death. With its propulsion system and rudders destroyed, Odin remained anchored to a nameless islet in the Sierra Greed Sea, floating aimlessly. It was estimated that it would take at least two years to develop St Vault-made propulsion and rudder systems, leaving Odin stranded as a mere floating island for the foreseeable future.

“Well, it’s a great place for a drink. The view’s not bad either,” Macguire said, stretching out his left hand toward the drifting clouds while downing a beer in his right.

The sunset from the edge of the island, floating at an altitude of 2,000 meters, bathed the scene in soft pink hues, soothing the exhausted airmen. The straight horizon stretched endlessly, fading into the distance and gradually swallowed by the encroaching night.

Of the 45 Voltec airmen who participated in six successive attacks over two days, 25 had fallen. Today, all the fallen had been posthumously awarded the Saint Petersburg Medal of Valor, with each promoted two ranks to the status of lieutenants.

Now, all 115 members of the Voltec Squadron gathered near the runway of the third airfield for a memorial party. Always quick to find a reason to celebrate, even now their gathering was not sombre, with many singing loudly to the radio’s music and sharing stories about their fallen comrades.

Twenty-five makeshift gravestones, crafted from iron stakes, stood along the side of the runway. Female airmen had laid bouquets at each grave, tying the dog tags of the deceased to the markers. Survivors drank and shared stories with the silent dead.

“You should’ve cleaned up before the sortie, you know. You left some pretty embarrassing stuff lying around,” Macguire muttered as he placed a stack of vulgar magazines beside Jude’s grave and took a drink.

“And terrible taste, too… What is this? Never seen something like this before. You really had a thing for this stuff, huh?”

Macguire flipped through the dirty magazines with mock disgust, complaining as he did. He clearly preferred light-hearted banter over sinking into grief, even as he occasionally wiped his eyes.

While the families of the deceased would receive pensions and government benefits, it was painfully obvious that money would never replace the loved ones they had lost. Hamilton’s family would likely be able to pay off their shoe store’s debts, and Jude’s sick brother could afford hospital care, but no amount of money could ease the pain of their loss.

Though they had won the decisive battle, Kiyoaki couldn’t shake the deep sadness weighing on his heart, burdened by the deaths of those closest to him.

Just then, Lulu and Lala came up on either side of Kiyoaki, offering cheerful smiles and paper cups filled with cheap wine.

“Don’t be so gloomy, Kiyoaki! Come on, drink up!”

“Jude, Hamilton, and Sebastian all hated being serious. They’d want us to keep things light and fun.”

The two women smiled brightly, and Kiyoaki took the paper cup without a word, taking a sip. Kagura had mentioned that, after the battle, Lulu and Lala had sobbed openly in the women’s quarters aboard the Raven. They had known the fallen far longer than Kiyoaki, and their grief must have been far deeper. Yet here they were, putting on brave faces to lift the spirits of others. Wanting to respond to their kindness, Kiyoaki forced a smile.

“Yeah… you’re right. I’ll try.”

“That’s the spirit! We never know when our time’s up, so we might as well enjoy it while we can!”

“Yeah, I’ll do my best.”

Though his cheer was far from genuine, Kiyoaki downed the rest of the wine in one gulp. Lulu and Lala linked arms with him, giggling.

“Aww, Kiyoaki is so cute!”

“If you ever need an older sister to comfort you, come sneak into our quarters, okay?”

“Here, have more to drink! You’re going to be the next ace, after all! Even the captain was impressed!”

Embarrassed, Kiyoaki tried to downplay the praise.

“It was thanks to Kagura’s leadership… I wasn’t even keeping track of my kill count.”

“Don’t be so modest! You had the second-highest number of kills, right after Macguire. That’s amazing! You even outdid the captain!”

Lulu was referring to the recently announced confirmed kill count for the Voltec Squadron. After the air battle, each pilot had reported their kill count, which was then cross-checked with the reconnaissance aircraft’s reports. Kiyoaki had been credited with six confirmed kills, second only to Macguire’s seven, but most of the squadron assumed there had been a mistake. Kiyoaki himself had lost track during the heat of battle and wasn’t convinced of the count either.

“I’m sure it was a mistake. I was so focused on covering Kagura that I don’t remember shooting down that many.”

As Kiyoaki spoke humbly, a hand suddenly patted him on the head. Looking up, he saw Leo, the squadron’s ace, holding a beer with his usual sombre expression.

“That’s not necessarily true. You probably did shoot that many down.”

Leo clinked his bottle against Kiyoaki’s cup, downed his beer, wiped his mouth, and asked quietly:

“You don’t remember the battle clearly, do you?”

“Honestly, it’s all a blur. I have flashes of memory, but nothing continuous. I don’t think I was particularly calm, either.”

“You were calm. In fact, you scared me a little.”

“Huh?”

It was a surprising admission. Leo was the top ace of the St Vault Naval Air Force. For him to say such a thing to a rookie like Kiyoaki seemed far too generous. Bewildered, Kiyoaki listened as Leo continued.

“If you keep gaining experience, you and Illia will soon surpass me and become the aces of St Vault. There’s a realm in the sky that can’t be reached through effort alone… It’s a cruel reality.”

“……………………”

“That’s where Karnasion and Akmed live. They’re dragons, while I’m just a hawk. No matter how much a hawk tries, it can’t beat a dragon.”

“That’s not true… I believe the Voltec Squadron is the strongest in the world. Even against dragons, with coordinated teamwork, we can shoot them down.”

“No, you can’t. Even if you sent a hundred planes after them, they wouldn’t fall. They’ve mastered a way of flying that we can’t match. You saw what happened over Kalkinos. That wasn’t human. Hamilton, Jude, and Sebastian wouldn’t have acted so recklessly if they’d realized they were up against a dragon…”

Leo’s voice was thick with regret. He was clearly blaming himself for the deaths of his subordinates, carrying the weight of their loss.

Kiyoaki didn’t know what to say, standing frozen in place. But, as usual, Lulu and Lala broke the tension with their bright smiles, slipping their arms around Leo and pulling him into the dancing crowd.

“Come on, Captain! It’s no use dwelling on it now—let’s just have fun!”

“You don’t want to go back home with such a gloomy face, do you? Your wife will be heartbroken!”

“Let’s dance! We can even listen to the radio from Akitsu! Come on!”

Teasing their commanding officer with their usual carefree banter, they dragged Leo into the music, and soon everyone was laughing and bumping into each other as they danced. The shortwave radio from the Akitsu Federation played selections from “Misa Rose,” a beloved female DJ, and the group swayed to the foreign music, celebrating their fallen comrades with joy rather than sorrow.

Kiyoaki looked around, searching for Illia. For some reason, he felt an overwhelming urge to speak with her. Eventually, he spotted her kneeling by one of the graves, away from the lively crowd.

“Illia,” he called out.

“…Yeah.”

When Kiyoaki called out to her, Illia, still kneeling on the ground, turned her sorrowful gaze from the tombstone to him.

Her fiery red hair fluttered in the wind. In her eyes, as she looked up at him, he could see the pain she was carrying.

“…Are you okay? I mean… you don’t look so well.”

“…Is that so…? Yeah…”

She replied vaguely, and then turned her gaze back to the tombstone. When he looked closely, he saw it was Corina’s grave. It seemed Illia still believed that Corina’s death was her fault.

It was a painful sight. Kiyoaki knew that words couldn’t save her. All he could do was share in her pain.

Kiyoaki knelt down next to Illia, on her right side. Then, in the St Vault style, he clasped his hands together and prayed for the deceased. As he glanced around, he noticed that Illia had placed flowers on all the tombstones.

“…The death of someone close weighs heavy.”

After a while, Illia finally spoke. Kiyoaki nodded.

“Yeah. As soldiers, we were prepared for it… but it still feels incredibly heavy.”

“As long as the fighting continues, people will keep dying. I always thought it was just how things were… but I never knew it could be this painful and sad. I never understood that.”

“…Neither did I. I thought I understood it in my head, but when you actually experience it… it’s truly hard. You don’t know what to do with all the sadness.”

Illia lowered her long eyelashes. Kiyoaki hoped that sharing the same feelings would bring her some comfort. At the same time, he realized just how kind and gentle Illia was, mourning the deaths of their comrades. When he had first met her in the Eriadore, he thought she was cold, mechanical, and emotionless, but in truth, she was delicate, easily hurt, and cared deeply for her comrades.

Then, Kagura sat down beside Illia on her left. She placed a hundred lilies on the tombstone, clasped her hands, and prayed.

“Not feeling sadness anymore… that would be more dangerous. Before we are soldiers, we are human. It’s okay to mourn each death fully.”

Kagura spoke quietly, still looking at Glenda’s grave.

“Mourn deeply, grieve, and be grateful… then we fight again. To end this war as soon as possible.”

Kiyoaki and Illia nodded in silence. Kagura’s words, more than anyone else’s, settled deep within them, resting in the pit of their stomachs.

They were still able to feel the sorrow of their comrades’ deaths. No matter how difficult the battles ahead might be, they wanted to hold onto that humanity, that ability to grieve.

The sun sank into the distant horizon. The golden hues of the setting sun began to envelop the world. From an altitude of two thousand meters, the golden tapestry of the sky gradually shifted in colour as time passed. Just as no two sunsets are ever the same, tomorrow would bring a new sunset, one they had never seen before. Kiyoaki prayed that all of them here would be able to look upon that new sunset together.

Kagura interrupted Kiyoaki’s thoughts with a quiet remark.

“…Kiyoaki, I’ve heard some bad news. I hope it’s just a rumour… but I think you should know.”

“…?”

“Do you know about the war between the Akitsu army and Urano on Messus Island, Odessa? After the capture of the flying fortress Balsinos, they plan to land in Odessa, right?”

“Yes. Of course, I know. But I haven’t heard any updates about the battle…”

“…It’s only a rumour, but apparently, things are getting messy. Since the Battle of Sierra Greed went far better than expected, part of the Second Fleet was sent as reinforcements, but they’re not coordinating at all with the Akitsu army…”

Kagura continued, her tone full of concern. From what she had heard, the St Vault Military Operations Command sent reinforcements to the Odessa region without much coordination, launching a fierce bombardment on the flying fortress Balsinos. The battle was still ongoing, and there were even plans to send the landing force that had successfully captured Kalkinos to Balsinos next.

“The course of the Hydrabard campaign has been decided. With the loss of their main navy and the capture of Urano’s flying fortress, Hydrabard has no power left to fight. If St Vault offers them surrender terms, they’ll likely raise the white flag. But before that happens, it seems like the St Vault Operations Command wants to secure Balsinos.”

Kagura’s concern made sense to Kiyoaki. The damage to Kalkinos’ propulsion system meant it would take years to be operational again. If the Akitsu Federation captured Balsinos intact, the balance of power in the archipelago would shift, leaving only St Vault and Akitsu in control.

And if—St Vault were to possess both flying fortresses, the question of who would dominate the archipelago would be settled. With two flying fortresses supporting their powerful mobile fleet, no other force in the region could match them.

For St Vault, which had always been threatened by the Harmonia Empire to the north, securing all of the archipelago’s oil and mineral resources had been a national goal since its founding. Now that the “Kukuana Line” complex fortress had been completed along their border with Harmonia, the need for a military alliance with the Akitsu Federation was diminishing. Moreover, with Hydrabard’s navy destroyed after the Battle of Sierra Greed, diplomacy alone could end the conflict.

However, the St Vault government had been issuing deficit bonds for the past two years, implementing massive tax hikes, and spending thirty percent of the national budget on the Hydrabard campaign. They were building over a dozen new aircraft carriers, producing ten thousand aircraft per month, and training over thirty thousand pilots. With this vast amount of resources dedicated to the war effort, it seemed unlikely they would allow the archipelago to remain divided between themselves and the Akitsu Federation. Having amassed such military power under the pretext of the Hydrabard campaign, St Vault might now turn its attention to fulfilling its long-standing ambition of conquering the archipelago, and direct its sword at the Akitsu Federation. In this age dominated by imperialism, such a scenario was all too possible.

“If they break the alliance easily, it would damage the country’s reputation. St Vault isn’t that reckless of a nation, are they?”

“It’s a matter of choosing between appearances and practicality. In these times, there are countless ways to justify breaking an alliance.”

Kagura and Kiyoaki’s participation as allied forces in the St Vault military had been intended to demonstrate the enduring friendship between their two nations to the surrounding states. However, with no more enemies to demonstrate that friendship against, what remained was the looming confrontation between two great powers: St Vault and the Akitsu Federation, facing each other across the archipelago.

—If the alliance were to be broken, what would happen to me and Kagura?

That unsettling thought exploded in his mind. It was a situation he didn’t want to imagine, but if it came to that, there was no way they would escape unscathed. After all, they had studied St Vault’s military strategy and learned the inner workings of the most powerful fighter squadron, the Voltec Air Corps…

At that moment, a voice interrupted Kiyoaki’s train of thought.

“Oh, come on, why so gloomy? Lighten up a bit, why don’t you try enjoying yourself like the others?”

It was Reiner, his voice light and carefree as he approached. He handed Kiyoaki a beer bottle, while raising a bottle of wine in a toast.

“No point in sulking around. Let’s just get drunk and switch gears. There aren’t any more big battles ahead, so let’s relax and have some fun, yeah?”

Reiner said this casually, then passed a paper cup filled with wine to both Kagura and Illia. Kiyoaki took a small sip of beer and nodded along.

“…Yeah, you’re right. I do need to switch my mindset.”

“Exactly! For once, you’re being sensible. Kagura, Illia, come on, let’s sing and dance to remember the fallen. They’d prefer we keep our spirits high, right?”

Encouraged by Reiner, Illia and Kagura also nodded and stood up.

“You’re right… we need to keep our spirits up.”

“This is where your personality comes in handy. There’s no point in looking back with regret. We should face forward!”

Kagura stood tall with resolve and walked over to join the lower-ranking officers, who were already in the midst of singing and dancing. Illia followed closely behind her, joining the lively group. Reiner watched them go with a smirk, then turned back to Kiyoaki.

“Come on, you too. Stop moping around.”

“Yeah… Reiner.”

Kiyoaki downed the rest of his beer and locked eyes with Reiner.

Maybe it was the alcohol talking.

No, it was more than that.

He had been suppressing his feelings for a long time, but he couldn’t hold them back any longer.

“I need to talk to you.”

Kiyoaki spoke earnestly to his friend.

“…? What’s with the serious tone all of a sudden?”

Reiner raised an eyebrow in confusion.

Kiyoaki couldn’t contain the emotion that was surging within him.

The voices of his fallen comrades echoed in his mind. He remembered the columns of water rising from the ocean, and the oily blooms spreading across the surface, all vivid in his memory.

Could those sacrifices really not have been avoided?

Was there no way to have minimized those losses?

“Can we go somewhere private? Just the two of us.”

Reiner gave Kiyoaki a strange look, but seeing that his friend’s expression was unwavering, he shrugged his shoulders.

“Ugh… Don’t tell me this is going to be one of those heavy talks. I’m really not in the mood for that.”

“It’s not like that. I just need to ask you something. Let’s go over there.”

Kiyoaki led Reiner to a secluded part of the island, away from the runway and the others.

With an exasperated sigh, Reiner reluctantly followed Kiyoaki into the dimly lit area.

“If this is some kind of love confession, I swear I’ll push you off the edge.”

“I’m serious, Reiner. I hope I’m just overthinking this.”

“Oh yeah? Sounds interesting. Let’s hear it.”

The two stopped at the edge of the floating island, facing each other.

There was no one around. In the distance, the remnants of the sunset were still blazing red across the sky. A few steps to the right, and one could fall straight off the island and plummet two thousand meters down to the sea below.

Kiyoaki fixed his gaze on Reiner.

His friend, bathed in the lingering glow of the sunset, had turned his face lazily toward the ocean, as if this conversation were more of a chore than anything.

—I’m about to ask something terrible.

—But I can’t just ignore it anymore.

—If I’m wrong, I’ll be glad.

Kiyoaki steeled himself and began.

“…A while back, when Air Hunt Island was attacked by Urano’s flying fortress, we were at the observation deck, right? We saw the fortress together.”

“…Yeah. I remember. Then the military police suddenly showed up and arrested Mio.”

“Right. But just before that… Mio turned away from the fortress and asked you, ‘What have I done?’ Didn’t she?”

Reiner still looked disinterested, staring off to the side. But in the depths of his gaze, Kiyoaki noticed a flicker of something unusual.

“You said something to her, didn’t you? Something like, ‘Your normal life is over.’ That’s how Mio sounded at the time. Then the military police came, and we were all thrown into confusion. But what I want to know is… what did Mio’s words mean?”

Reiner continued to stare out at the sea for a while.

Then, he sighed and scratched the back of his head.

“…How the hell would I know? Mio was a spy for Urano. There’s no way to know now what a spy was thinking when she got close to me.”

“Yeah… That’s true.”

“That’s it? What a pointless conversation. I wanted to make a bigger fuss.”

“…And after that, you went to the police station to bring Mio back, right? But by then, she had already escaped, and there were dead police officers around…”

“Yeah. The questioning after that was a real pain.”

“Two of the officers had their necks broken by hand, right? The investigator concluded that Mio did it, but… I can’t believe Mio had that kind of ability. As far as I know, Mio doesn’t have those kinds of skills.”

“How should I know? She’s a spy. Of course, she had secret killing techniques.”

“Yeah… I still think it’s impossible, though…”

“I get that you want to defend Mio, but you didn’t even know her family were spies, right? You’ve been deceived for a long time, so it’s about time you woke up.”

“………………”

“You can dwell on Mio all you want, but don’t drag me into it. It’s a pain to deal with. Later.”

As Reiner was about to turn on his heel, Kiyoaki raised one hand to stop him.

“I still have more questions.”

“What now?”

“A while back… Toward the end of our third year at the officer academy. When Kagura and I were accepted into the St Vault military as allied forces, I reported it to you… I wanted to become your friend and tried to shake your hand, but you refused…”

Reiner’s expression stiffened for a moment. Perhaps he realized what Kiyoaki was about to ask.

Behind his eyelids, the memory of the unusually clear blue sky behind Reiner at that time came flooding back.

It hurt so much.

“And then you said something strange. ‘If anyone ever betrays you from now on, you’re allowed to hate them.’”

Reiner slowly turned his gaze back to Kiyoaki.

Kiyoaki saw something unsettling writhing deep within Reiner’s expression.

It was Reiner, and yet not Reiner—something else, a different kind of person, was slowly emerging from within his friend.

But Kiyoaki couldn’t be intimidated.

Because he thought of Reiner as his friend. He couldn’t just pretend not to notice and let things go on as they were.

“Yeah… I might have said something like that. Just a general comment, though, a general comment. You’re naive, you know? You’ve probably never been betrayed by anyone before, right? You’re too soft, so I was just offering some grown-up advice. I don’t know what you’re doubting me about, but you should be thankful.”

Reiner spat out his words with irritation.

But Kiyoaki continued.

“When we flew the airship Eriadore through enemy territory… After the nighttime water landing, when we all made it back safely, I talked with Illia… And it seemed like someone who knew more about handling airships than any of us had to have been aboard. Just before we were about to fail the landing due to a strong crosswind, someone in the back knocked over the communication equipment, restoring the balance.”

“………………”

“At that time, Mio was incapacitated from blood loss, so it could only have been Kagura, Balthazar, Cecil, or you who were behind us. One of you was hiding some incredible piloting skills. There’s no way the equipment just happened to fall over at the perfect moment, shifting the centre of gravity and leveling the ship by pure coincidence.”

“………………”

“The same thing happened during the firefight with the Gorgona. Someone fired a shot that miraculously pierced the Gorgona’s cockpit. Without that, the Eriadore would’ve been shot down right then and there…”

Kiyoaki fixed his sincere gaze on Reiner.

—Reiner has saved us countless times.

He was sure of it. During the surprise attack on Air Hunt Island, Reiner must have known about the attack and led everyone to safety at the observation deck.

—If Reiner hadn’t been there, I would be dead by now.

He knew that too. That’s why, even though he had his doubts, he never confronted him.

But his hesitation had reached its limit.

Right here, right now, Kiyoaki wanted Reiner to deny the suspicions he had been carrying for so long.

“You once beat Illia in a mock aerial battle. It wasn’t luck or coincidence. It was your skill, Reiner. That’s what I believe.”

A cold, dry wind swept between the two of them. Amidst the chilly high-altitude air, there was a faint scent of oil and gunpowder.

Having questioned Reiner like this, their relationship could no longer be the same. The memories of joking around in the officers’ quarters, riding bikes together, racing across Air Hunt Island until dawn, and chatting at the harbor in the morning all flashed through Kiyoaki’s mind.

Even now, he thought of Reiner as his friend.

But because of that, he had to get to the truth.

“Are you hiding some kind of superhuman ability?”

Kiyoaki saw something stir deep within Reiner’s eyes.

A pale, mist-like aura seemed to rise from Reiner’s silhouette.

—Switch with me.

Hachidori was trying to drag Reiner out of the seat of his consciousness.

But Reiner wouldn’t give up his place. With all his strength, he held Hachidori back.

"We need to keep watching for now."
[[File:ReinerKiyoaki.png|thumb]]
—He’s already realized who I am.

—Switch. It’ll be over in an instant.

"If I do that, I’ll be the one they suspect."

—If we let him live, I’ll be the one in danger. Switch! Switch with me!

Though Hachidori urged him, Reiner clung to the seat of his consciousness, refusing to yield. This was the first time he had ever experienced something like this.

"Damn it, I showed too many cards, thinking he was just an idiot. He may act like a fool, but he’s no one to underestimate."

Reiner now understood why Illia had called Kiyoaki the “Black Rabbit.” He had pretended to be oblivious, all the while carefully observing everything.

Kiyoaki spoke again.

“I didn’t want to ask you something like this… But I can’t just stand by and watch as more of our comrades die. If someone is leaking information to Urano… then it’s my duty to stop them.”

—I’ll kill him.

Hachidori resolved himself, and forcibly began to pull Reiner out of the seat of his consciousness.

“Run, Kiyoaki.”

Reiner barely managed to say that before his consciousness sank deep within.

Taking control of the body, Hachidori opened its eyes.

Then it curled the fingers of its right hand into a claw.

Kiyoaki stood frozen, staring directly at Hachidori before him.

As Hachidori raised its right hand toward Kiyoaki’s throat—

“!?“

Hachidori’s eyes widened in shock.

From the darkness behind Kiyoaki, a dozen or so military police officers approached in formation, their stern faces echoing with the sound of their boots as they marched forward.

It was clear they were about to carry out their duties.

—Had they already been tipped off?

Hachidori’s right hand stopped. Quick thoughts raced through its mind.

—Even if I kill all the military police, this is a floating island. There’s nowhere to escape.

—I’ve been trapped by Sakagami.

Realizing it had been too careless, it was already too late for regrets.

In Hachidori’s vision, an image of a mother sitting alone in a decrepit house, clutching an old photograph, floated into view.

—Mother.

At that moment of regret, the military police’s formation halted.

Hachidori readied itself for a final stand.

At this point, there was only one thing left to do: use every combat skill it had honed to kill as many military police officers as possible, steal their weapons, and gamble on the slim chance of escape.

Resolving itself to this course of action, the officer at the head of the formation, likely their captain, addressed Kiyoaki.

“Sakagami Kiyoaki, correct?”

Kiyoaki, caught off guard, turned his gaze to the captain.

“…Yes? That’s me, but…”

Two officers grabbed Kiyoaki by both arms, placing a handcuff on one wrist.

“What, what are you…!?”

Kiyoaki’s shock was evident.

Right in front of them, Hachidori also turned its widened eyes to the captain.

The captain solemnly announced:

“The Akitsu Federation has just opened hostilities with the St Vault Empire.”

The impossible words spilled from the captain’s mouth.

“The Emperor of St Vault has declared extraordinary measures. From today, all Akitsu nationals residing in the Empire are to be relocated to internment camps. No charges or warrants are necessary—being Akitsu itself is a crime in our country. Neither you nor Kagura are exceptions.”

Kiyoaki’s mouth fell open in astonishment.

Hachidori noticed a commotion in the distance. Peering into the darkness, it saw another group of military police gathered, where non-commissioned officers were raising a fuss.

At the centre of the commotion, Kagura was there, handcuffed behind her back. The non-commissioned officers were angrily confronting the military police, demanding to know the reason for her capture.

The military police began dragging Kiyoaki away, ignoring his struggles as he twisted his body and shouted out.

“No… There must be some mistake! Akitsu would never do something like this!”

The military police jeered at him, responding loudly.

“Our airborne units were wiped out by a sudden artillery barrage from the Akitsu fleet as we tried to land in Odessa. In Balsinos, Urano, St Vault, and Akitsu forces are locked in a three-way battle. The Second Archipelago War has begun, and all Akitsu monkeys will be slaughtered!”

The military police laughed as they violently tousled Kiyoaki’s head, treating him like an enemy foreigner.

Twenty-some years ago, the Archipelago War was fought between the St Vault Empire and the Akitsu Federation. That detested history was now repeating itself in the same battleground.

Kiyoaki’s face contorted as he turned his gaze to Kagura, who was being captured, and shouted.

“Kagura…!! Kagura!!”

“There’s been some mistake, Kiyoaki. The misunderstanding will clear up soon, so stay calm and keep your head down…!!”

Kagura’s desperate plea was met with uproarious laughter from the military police. The non-commissioned officers surrounded them, angrily pressing for answers, but were being ignored.

From a nearby radio, the familiar, playful voice of Miyo Rose came through.

“St Vault soldiers, are you listening to this broadcast? It seems we’ll be fighting you soon. The Samurai Boys are eagerly waiting for you. Say goodbye to your families and lovers, then come on down to Odessa on Messus Island.”

The radio switched to playing the funeral march of the Akitsu Federation. Knowing that St Vault soldiers would be listening, the broadcast aimed to demoralize them.

With Rose’s voice in the background, Kiyoaki and Kagura were tightly surrounded by the military police and led away to an unknown destination.

Hachidori stood there in stunned silence, watching them go.

—Am I… saved?

That much, it barely understood. Its streak of bad luck hadn’t run out yet, it seemed.

—Mother…

With silent gratitude, Hachidori watched as Kiyoaki and Kagura were led into the darkness before blending back into the circle of non-commissioned officers with a casual air.

Toaru Hikuushi e no Seiyaku:V4Part2

2025-12-01T23:24:10Z

QCore:

Part 2
The decisive battlefield that would determine the outcome of the Hydrabard War was undoubtedly the Great Waterfall.

This towering waterfall, with a height difference of 1,300 meters, separated the northern and southern archipelagos. For years, the existence of this endless waterfall had isolated the Hydrabard Confederation from St Vault, and only with the advancement of aviation technology did the two meet—leading inevitably to a history woven with conflict and bloodshed.

The goal was pillage.

“There’s no doubt that a nation’s economy prospers through pillage. However, to plunder everything from another country requires a massive army to both conquer and maintain it. The great powers of the Mitterland continent eventually found themselves in a position where they had to plunder just to sustain their armies. Unable to support the military with the national treasury, they were forced into endless pillaging just to keep the army afloat. It’s a bad joke. Even if St Vault wins the Hydrabard War, the national economy will be saddled with enormous debt. In other words, this is a war where no one gains, whether we win or lose.”

Captain Leo Rosenmuller, the squadron leader of the Voltec Air Squadron, said this with a weary expression as he brought his coffee cup to his lips.

In the ready room of Chandler Fortress’s third airfield, more than twenty fighter pilots were always on standby in case of emergencies. Due to the eerie calm that had persisted lately, many were killing time, and if luck permitted, they might even get the chance to chat with national heroes like Leo, who would sometimes indulge in idle conversation with newcomers.

Kiyoaki and Illia listened with wide eyes, absorbing every word. It wasn’t every day that they got the chance to hear directly from St Vault’s current ace pilot, who boasted 56 confirmed kills.

“Hydrabard outsourced their air force to Urano because it was cheaper. They figured it was better to host the parasite that is Urano than to face St Vault’s plundering. To Hydrabard, both St Vault and Urano are external threats, but Urano is geographically farther away. They had to deal with the nearer enemy to survive… and so, with limited choices, the Confederation allied with Urano.”

Leo’s hawk-like gaze lifted to the sky outside the window. In newspapers and magazines, Leo appeared sharp and confident, a figure designed to inspire national pride. However, in person, he was thoughtful, weary, and carried a certain darkness within him.

Kiyoaki, feeling bold, decided to ask a question.

“I’m surprised. Captain, you seem quite sympathetic towards Hydrabard.”

“I just understand why they fight… You two will feel this someday too, but sometimes, you lose sight of why you’re fighting. As vanguards sent to plunder Hydrabard, I’ve occasionally questioned the need to kill enemy pilots…”

Leo trailed off, letting out a soft sigh, his expression softening.

“…I shouldn’t be saying this. Complaining to new recruits… it’s your fathers’ rivalry, isn’t it? That’s why I got carried away.”

He awkwardly tried to justify his ramblings, but Kiyoaki hurriedly waved his hands in apology.

“Not at all, sir! This is valuable insight! I’ve never considered the larger strategic perspective… I’ve only trained to fly and shoot down enemies. Your words are very educational!”

Leo, hearing this, gave a small, wry smile and lit a cigarette. His sharp, silver hair and rugged features were always tinged with a sombre hue.

“The truth is, don’t take what I say too seriously. Even I don’t think about such complex things when I’m shooting down enemies. And as for my kill count, it’s all thanks to my subordinates—none of it is personal skill.”

Though he spoke humbly, Leo’s face, hardened by years of command, reflected the weight of leading others. He had likely witnessed the deaths of many subordinates, and his words carried a deep mix of care and sorrow.

After just a short conversation, Kiyoaki found himself drawn to Leo’s character. He didn’t boast, and he spoke sincerely to newcomers. It became clear that great officers like Leo possessed not just combat skills, but also human qualities that earned the trust of their men. It was that trust that had led to his 56 kills.

Illia, who had been quietly listening, spoke up.

“May I ask a question?”

Leo nodded silently, and Illia asked in a serious tone.

“When leading a squadron, what is the most important thing to keep in mind?”

“Ensuring as many of your subordinates return alive as possible. That’s the squadron leader’s mission.”

His response came immediately, with such conviction that Illia was momentarily overwhelmed by the strength behind it.

“What should be done to prevent losing subordinates?”

Once again, Leo answered without hesitation.

“Spot the enemy before they spot you. That’s all there is to it. Guide your allies to favourable airspace, attack before being noticed, and retreat immediately.”

“And what if the battle turns into a dogfight?”

“Never end up alone. Even if the formation breaks down, stay in friendly airspace and fight together. Never pursue the enemy on your own. Survive by numbers, not by individual skill… Drill that into your squadron every day.”

Illia absorbed Leo’s advice with unwavering seriousness. The lessons Leo had brought back from the battlefield, having earned them through blood, were invaluable to the new recruits, and they were grateful for his generosity in sharing them.

“Thank you, sir. I will take these lessons to heart.”

“Wow, Captain is giving a lecture! Mind if we join in?”

Suddenly, a high-pitched voice interrupted Illia’s thanks.

“I wanna hear the Captain’s lecture too!”

Two young female soldiers, who still had a hint of girlishness to them, sat down across from Leo, flanking Illia and throwing their arms around her shoulders.

Leo’s stern face darkened even more.

“It’s not a lecture. Just idle chatter. And Illia is an officer—don’t get too friendly.”

The two female soldiers blinked and responded, still holding Illia’s shoulders.

“Illia’s still just a second lieutenant candidate, not an officer yet, right? We’re equals.”

“She’ll be an officer next year. Show some respect.”

“So, we’re good until next year, right, Illia? We can still be buddies until then?”

The girls stared into Illia’s eyes from up close, and Illia mumbled awkwardly.

“Uh, yes… You’re my seniors, so I still have a lot to learn from you.”

“See! Illia’s fine with it! That means Kiyoaki’s fine too, right?”

The girl on Illia’s left pulled Kiyoaki into a hug with her other arm, flashing him a wide smile.

“Uh, yes… I’d appreciate your guidance in learning more about the squadron.”

The lively sisters, twins and elite first-class pilots of the Voltec Air Squadron, beamed at Leo with triumphant smiles.

“See? We’re all equals here! Feels natural, doesn’t it?”

“It’s not natural. And stop drinking Illia’s drink, Lala. And you, Lulu, that’s Kiyoaki’s food. Honestly… I keep telling you to act more like soldiers.”

Despite his words, Leo couldn’t hide the affection in his eyes for the mischievous twin sisters, who had earned their place as the squadron’s mascots.
[[File:IlliaLuluLala.png|thumb]]
“So, what were you talking about?”

“Something juicy? Like who’s dating who or any secret affairs?”

“Uh, no, it wasn’t like that…”

“By the way, Captain, did you hear? Ellen and Macguire broke up. Apparently, Toby stole Ellen, and Macguire was furious, but it turns out Macguire was secretly seeing Shorty on the side. But then Shorty was also secretly seeing Neville, so it’s just a big mess.”

“I don’t care. They’re always switching partners. They should show some restraint.”

“And get this, Karen hooked up with Jude, but Jude was secretly with Macguire, and now Jude’s caught between men and women. Oh, and rumour has it Jude’s got his eyes on Illia, so watch out.”

“Huh…?”

“Tell Jude Illia is his superior officer. He’d better stop thinking stupid things.”

“And when Hamilton was flirting with Sebastian, Connie caught them in the act, and it turned into a huge mess. Leon tried to break it up but got caught in it too, and by the end, all four of them were tangled up in bed until morning. Oh, and during all that, Leon whispered, "I’m in love with Kagura Murasaki," while hugging Hamilton.”

“Tell Leon that Kagura is an officer cadet from an allied nation. If he gets involved, it could cause an international incident. He should refrain from any reckless behaviour.”

Kiyoaki and Illia listened to Lulu and Lala’s gossip, their expressions tense. They couldn’t fully understand half of what was being said, but they grasped enough to realize it was all about the Voltec Air Squadron’s internal love affairs. The lewd details, full of infidelity and crossing gender boundaries, were mind-boggling. There was no mention of combat or tactics—just an endless stream of lowbrow, sensational gossip.

Despite their wild behaviour, the non-commissioned officers of the Voltec Air Squadron were air combat specialists. They were elites, handpicked from across the country for their superior piloting skills. Gender didn’t matter—when it came to flying, they were all the best of the best.

Because they were only taught aerial combat techniques in flight school, they often surpassed even officer pilots in dogfighting skills. However, they lacked general education and were often considered rough and uncouth, even outcasts in normal society. Yet, on the battlefield, where killing enemies made you a hero, it was those outcasts who often thrived. The job of officers like Kiyoaki was to lead and harness the immense power of these wild, “misfit” pilots, directing them toward victory.

But leadership wasn’t something you learned from a textbook. It required face-to-face interaction, building trust through shared experiences. And Kiyoaki was beginning to realize just how difficult and distant that goal was.

“Hey, Captain, have you ever had an affair? Are you faithful to your wife?” Lulu suddenly asked, resting her chin on her hand.

Leo scowled and answered curtly.

“No. Is that a problem?”

“Still head over heels, huh? I see. And you’ve got a daughter, right? Must be tough with leave still a long way off.”

“It’s not tough. This is the job.”

“Man, you’re so rigid. You could have anyone you want as Captain. Seems like a waste.”

“I don’t care. I’m here to fight a war, not to have affairs with my subordinates.”

“You’re missing out! You never know when you’ll die, so you’ve got to live for the moment! Right, Illia?”

Lulu turned to Illia for confirmation.

“Eh, uh… I haven’t really thought about it much…”

“What? Then what are you living for? I don’t get it!”

“Hey, Lulu, don’t put Illia on the spot. Illia’s a serious person, not like you two who float through life all the time.”

Even after Leo scolded them with a sharp tone, Lulu and Lala just laughed it off without a care.

“Illia’s super popular with the guys in our squad, you know? They can’t make a move since you’re an officer, but they’re all staring at you with these hungry eyes. If you’re not careful, you might get jumped, so don’t go out alone at night.”

“Uh, okay…”

Illia, looking troubled, sighed and glanced toward Kiyoaki for help. Feeling flustered, Kiyoaki pleaded with Lulu and Lala.

“Um, Illia really isn’t good with this kind of talk, so… if you could take it easy, we’d really appreciate it…”

For a moment, Lulu and Lala exchanged glances, and then they both let out high-pitched squeals.

“Wait, what? Are you guys dating?”

“Sorry, we didn’t know. You guys didn’t look like that kind of couple. So, you’re already claimed, huh? That’s too bad!”

“I totally thought Illia was still a virgin, but I guess I was wrong. Man, I’ve lost my touch.”

“But don’t relax just yet. The guys in our squad don’t care if someone’s already taken. They’ll steal from right under you, so you better mark your territory every night.”

Lulu and Lala were getting all excited, throwing around crude terms Kiyoaki didn’t fully understand. He realized they had completely misunderstood his relationship with Illia and hurriedly raised his voice.

“N-No, it’s not like that! We’re just friends from the same officer school, and we happened to get assigned to the same squad. So, um, it’s really not like that…”

“Oh, really? So you’re not together after all? Yeah, I didn’t think you guys gave off that kind of vibe. But hey, Kiyoaki, are you a virgin? You don’t smell like one.”

“Uh, um, I don’t really know how to answer that. And… uh, is that something you can even smell?”

“It’s kinda fuzzy, you know? Like, the way you act is totally like a virgin, but your body doesn’t really give off that vibe. You’re a rare find.”

“Uh, could we please drop this? I really don’t understand, and, um, I’m not used to these kinds of crude conversations. If we could stick to something a little more appropriate, I’d appreciate it.”

“This is appropriate! Not doing this stuff is what’s inappropriate!”

“Um, I’m not really sure about all that…”

As Kiyoaki struggled to respond, more off-duty junior officers who had been lazing around nearby started gathering with mischievous grins, joining in to poke fun.

“What’s the matter, Officer Candidate Sakagami? You seem awfully flustered.”

“If these wild girls are causing you trouble, shall we toss them into the bushes?”

A group of rough-looking men, clearly the type who lived for the sky, approached. Smoking their rolled cigarettes and gripping bottles of brandy, they leaned in close to Kiyoaki.

“Uh, no, it’s fine. They’re just… teaching me some things…”

The junior officers ranged from their early twenties to late thirties. Being surrounded by men older than himself, all of whom had plenty of battlefield experience, made Kiyoaki feel like he had been dropped into a pirate crew, causing him to shrink back.

“They’re not wild; they’re just a little open-minded, that’s all. Anyway, Hamilton, I told you Illia and Kiyoaki aren’t dating. You happy now?”

Hamilton, a hulking man, nodded enthusiastically at Lulu’s words and turned his gaze toward Illia.

“Good to hear. Officer Candidate Illia Kreischmidt, I would gladly offer up every hole in my body for you. Please use them as you wish.”

“See, Illia? Isn’t that amazing? He’s offering his holes, not his life. Isn’t that fresh?”

“Uh… sure…”

Beside Hamilton, another hulking man, even hairier than the last, grinned down at Illia with a clueless expression.

“I would offer up my sack for Officer Candidate Illia Kreischmidt. It’s got plenty of uses.”

“Uh…”

Suddenly, a group of male junior officers gathered around Illia, sizing her up and trying to figure out if they could get away with flirting. Everyone was leering, and though their comments were crude, Kiyoaki and Illia couldn’t even begin to understand the slang they were using.

“Uh…”

Illia remained expressionless like a stone mask, only letting out occasional sighs in response. Leo, letting out a long sigh himself, stepped in to break up the group of junior officers.

“Enough.”

“Sir!”

The ruffians immediately straightened up and fell silent, though their faces still wore grins. Leo, still stern, continued.

“Illia will be your superior next year. You’d better keep that in mind when you’re trying to woo her. Keep pushing it, and you’ll face the consequences.”

In response to Leo’s warning, Hamilton puffed out his chest and replied with confidence.

“No worries, sir!”

“What do you mean, "no worries"?”

“With all due respect, Captain, I’m confident that within a year, I’ll have turned Officer Candidate Illia Kreischmidt into one of us!”

“Absolutely not.”

“No worries!”

“It’s not fine. Turning Illia into someone like you is not a good idea. For the love of all that’s holy, understand what I’m saying.”

“Yes, sir, no worries!”

“Listen, it’s really not okay. Illia, I’m sorry. These guys mean well, but… they’re just, uh… a little dumb.”

Maintaining her poker face, Illia nodded slightly.

“It’s fine. I didn’t understand a single thing anyone was saying, but I’ll try to learn going forward.”

“No, you don’t need to learn. If these guys approach you again, just run. If you get too close, they’ll drag you down to their level.”

Leo’s words made Lulu and Lala laugh even harder as they hugged Illia from both sides.

“If Illia becomes like us, life would be way more fun! Right, Illia? You want to be like us, don’t you?”

With a sincere expression, Illia nodded.

“I just want to catch up to everyone in terms of air combat skills as soon as possible.”

Hearing this, a bright wave of laughter erupted from the junior officers.

“Just a few more battles and you’ll surpass us in no time.”

“All you think about is flying, huh?”

“She’s amazing. At that age, all I thought about was women.”

“Even now, isn’t it?” “Well, now I think about men, too!”

“Ahahaha!”

“Jeez, you guys…”

The men, delighted by Illia’s praise, started roughhousing, tugging at each other’s cheeks, pinching noses, sticking fingers up noses, slapping foreheads, delivering backhand slaps, headbutting each other, and kicking sensitive areas.

“What the hell, man?”

“Hey, you’re the one who started it!”

“Don’t kick there!”

“Hey, watch your hands!”

“Captain, there’s a pervert here!”

Leo, watching this chaotic mess unfold, gave them a distant, resigned look before letting out another deep sigh.

“Knock it off.”

“Yes, sir!”

The ruckus abruptly ceased. Dishevelled and with blood trickling from their noses, the men straightened up and stood at attention with big grins on their faces.

“I get that you’ve got energy to burn, but… try to live a little more peacefully. You can’t just start brawling over every little thing.”

“Yes, sir! No worries!”

“It’s not "no worries." Get along. Follow the rules. And stop saying crude things to Illia and Sakagami. You’re not children anymore; at least try to act with some decorum.”

Just as Leo was about to continue his lecture, the sound of sirens blared from the distance.

Instantly, the junior officers’ faces lit up with excitement.

“Enemy incoming!”

With that shout, they all bolted from the waiting area toward their planes, racing each other to be the first to take off.

“Let’s go, Illia, Sakagami! First come, first served in the skies!”

Leo barked orders, and Illia and Kiyoaki scrambled to follow the junior officers, running full tilt.

Through the loudspeakers, the voice of the air command blared enemy details.

“Northwest direction, altitude 100 meters, twenty large bombers approaching! No sign of smaller planes, but stay alert!”

It appeared that a bombing squadron had taken off from Sierra Greed on Santos Island, across the great waterfall. It was likely a reconnaissance force sent by Urano to test the waters.

“Run, run!”

Leo shouted as Kiyoaki raced after the others, heart pounding. In the scramble to launch, there was no rank. Whether officer or junior officer, it didn’t matter—whoever got to an open plane first would be the one to take off.

The junior officers were in a frenzy of enthusiasm, sprinting full speed toward their planes. Just moments earlier, they had been lounging around, joking, but now they were charging like men possessed.

Kiyoaki pushed himself to keep up.

He knew he was seen as inexperienced, still green. But he had to get accustomed to real combat as soon as possible and prove his skill, or he’d never be able to command these wild men in battle.

Passing by a few who had been drinking at the waiting area, Kiyoaki managed to slip into an open Beo-Eagle fighter. The ground crew had already warmed up the engine, allowing him to quickly complete his pre-flight checks and start taxiing.

Following the ground crew’s signals, he rolled his plane into the take-off position. Five aircraft had already taken off, with Leo leading the formation ahead of him.

—This is my chance to see the legendary Sky King of St Vault in action.

This was Kiyoaki’s first time flying in combat since arriving at the squadron a month ago. He couldn’t wait to witness firsthand the skill of an officer who had earned the respect of these sky-hardened men. Trying to contain his excitement, Kiyoaki opened the throttle, following Leo into the sky.

The red soil runway receded below him as the windshield filled with nothing but blue sky. Glancing back, he saw that Illia had also won her “seat game” and was flying close behind with her wings spread wide.

Fifteen Beo-Eagles had taken off. Additional planes were being pulled out from the hangars by the ground crews, but it would take some time before they could join the fight.

At 700 meters, Leo began a wide, slow turn. The remaining 14 aircraft followed suit, communicating over the radio to form five groups of three. In the Voltec Air Squadron, these three-plane units were referred to as squads, and five squads made up a company. Leo was the company commander, and each squad leader acted as a unit commander.

“Sakagami and Illia, form up on my wings. Don’t stray from me, no matter what.”

Leo’s voice crackled through the speakers. Being selected to fly as his wingman left Kiyoaki elated.

“Yes, sir!”

“No solo manoeuvres. Don’t chase too far. Just focus on maintaining formation.”

“Yes, sir!”

Today was a test—Leo was giving them a chance to show their worth. The enemy had no fighter escorts, just large bombers, so this was a controlled opportunity to let Kiyoaki and Illia gain some combat experience. Grateful for the consideration, Kiyoaki glanced over to Illia, flying on his left. They exchanged a firm nod through the canopy.

Illia’s gaze was sharp and focused.

Going into combat meant killing the enemy, and of course, it also meant the possibility of being killed. Even though their task today was to guard Leo, letting their guard down for even a second could see them engulfed in flames and spiralling into the ocean. Tightening his grip on the controls, Kiyoaki locked onto Leo’s right wing.

The junior officers flying with them were all aces, each with at least five confirmed kills. This squadron was considered the best of the St Vault Air Force. Kiyoaki couldn’t afford to drag them down.

“Hey, Kiyoaki! Nice job getting airborne!”

“Don’t die, okay? Just wing it!”

Lulu and Lala’s playful voices echoed through the radio. Kiyoaki glanced to the left, spotting their three-plane squadron trailing him, with Lala waving from her cockpit. Their squad leader was Hamilton, the man who had earlier declared he’d turn Illia into one of them, with Lulu and Lala flying as his wingmen.

“Thanks, I’ll be careful!”

Kiyoaki waved back, then refocused on the mission ahead. Leo was climbing to 1,500 meters, scanning the surrounding airspace. They weren’t flying too high, likely because the enemy bombers preferred low-altitude approaches for better bombing accuracy.

“Hey, I see the enemy!”

Suddenly, Lulu’s voice, as carefree as ever, came over the speakers. Leo sounded less than amused.

“Where? I don’t see them.”

“Over there!”

“‘Over there’ doesn’t help. Lead the way.”

“Aye, aye, sir!”

Without waiting for orders, Lulu took the lead, accelerating northwest while the other 14 planes followed her. Ordinarily, Leo should have been at the front, but no one seemed to mind. Kiyoaki squinted ahead, trying to spot the enemy, but saw nothing.

—Are they really there?

He began to doubt if Lulu was joking, but still, he followed. Soon, they left Mauregan Island behind, with nothing but the vast blue sea stretching out below.

Clouds covered about 70% of the sky. Layered clouds and scattered clouds created patches of limited visibility, while the warm spring sun caused a light haze, further reducing the range of sight. Under these conditions, spotting the enemy would be quite difficult.

“There they are. Nice work, Lulu. You’ve got sharp eyes.”

Leo’s voice came through the speaker.

“…!?”

Kiyoaki strained his eyes to see below the horizon. The sky was thick with clouds, making it hard to spot anything.

“Thirty-five degrees to the left, altitude 100 meters. The enemy hasn’t noticed us.”

Following Leo’s direction, Kiyoaki turned his gaze.

But all he saw were clouds and atmospheric haze.

“Jude’s squad and Macguire’s squad, stay behind and watch the skies. There are probably enemy fighters hiding somewhere. The rest, follow me.”

“Aye, aye!”

“Roger that!”

“Got it!”

The exchanges between Leo and the junior officers were more like a pirate captain and his crew than professional fighter pilots. Rough, direct, yet maintaining strict discipline.

Two squads remained on high alert, while the other three began descending in altitude.

“We’re entering the clouds. Spread out the formation. Do not change speed or course, and we’ll exit the clouds in ten seconds.”

After giving his orders, Leo disappeared into the clouds. Kiyoaki and Illia, having yet to spot the enemy, followed instructions, widening the distance between them while trailing Leo from either side.

Raindrops slid across the windshield. Visibility was so poor that Kiyoaki could only just make out the lights on Leo’s wingtips. The enemy couldn’t see them, but neither could they see anything ahead.

—Will this really give us the advantage?

Doubt filled his mind, but the junior officers behind him followed Leo’s lead without question, flying confidently through the clouds.

Just as Leo had said, they flew through the clouds for only about ten seconds.

Suddenly, the sky opened up, revealing a vast blue ocean below, and there, flying low over the waves, were 20 massive Gorgona bombers, their enormous silhouettes laid bare before them.

“…!?”

The suddenness of the encounter caught both Kiyoaki and Illia off guard, but in that instant, Leo’s twin 20mm cannons tore into the right wing of a Gorgona bomber.

Flames spread across the windshield.

The Gorgona nosedived into the ocean, with Leo streaking above it in a flash.

Kiyoaki and Illia barely managed to follow from either side.

—How did Leo and Lulu spot the enemy? It was as if they could see through the clouds.

There wasn’t even time to be impressed. Kiyoaki had to pull up quickly as the ocean rose to meet him.

As he gained altitude, he glanced back at the trailing bombers.

Just as he looked, two Gorgonas at the rear burst into fireballs. It seemed that Hamilton’s squad, three planes with a total of six 20mm cannons, had managed to shoot down two bombers in quick succession. Explosions of ammunition stored in the bombers’ wings sent fireworks scattering in all directions.

“That’s incredible!”

He couldn’t help but shout. Was this really the work of the same reckless, drunken ruffians who had been fooling around just moments ago? The attack was as precise and calculated as a medieval cavalry charge.

“This is where the real fight begins. The element of surprise is over.”

Leo’s voice snapped Kiyoaki back to reality. Looking forward, he noticed that the formation had become disorganized.

“Y-yes, sir!”

“Don’t stay behind them and above. Use your speed to attack as you pass through.”

“Understood!”

Leo climbed to 700 meters, identified his next target, and swooped in.

The horizon tilted sharply, sunlight spinning through the cockpit as the plane banked hard. Kiyoaki gritted his teeth, fighting the centrifugal force, and followed Leo.

The remaining 17 Gorgonas huddled together.

Though they had been thrown into confusion, they quickly reformed into a combat formation. It seemed they had not yet given up on their bombing mission and were stubbornly flying toward Mauregan Island with their tails pointed toward Kiyoaki’s squad.

Leo increased his speed, heading straight for the tight Gorgona formation.

The 17-plane formation grew larger and larger as they approached.

The Gorgonas, known as aerial fortresses, had been a serious challenge when Kiyoaki had engaged them during the Eriadore airship mission. Each of the massive bombers was armed with thirteen 15mm machine gun turrets, giving them 26 guns in total. With 17 bombers, that meant they were now flying into a storm of 442 machine guns.

—This is insane.

Kiyoaki was stunned. Yet Leo pressed on without hesitation.

—Captain Leo said the goal of leadership was to bring his men back alive.

—Trust the captain.

Kiyoaki told himself that, just as the air around him exploded with tracer rounds.

“…!”

He had never experienced such concentrated fire before.

But Leo surged forward through the fiery deluge.

The sky itself seemed to be ablaze, everything engulfed in red.

Leo’s tail fin was no longer visible.

—Did he get hit?

For a split second, Kiyoaki felt heat through the canopy.

A giant fireball erupted right in front of him.

“…!?”

Kiyoaki had no idea what was happening.

He could only push the throttle as hard as he could. That was the only thing he could do.

Suddenly, the sky in front of him returned to clear blue. It was as if the flames and azure sky were flashing alternately across the windshield like frames of a movie. The situation was changing so rapidly that he couldn’t make sense of the battle.

Ahead of him, Leo’s plane calmly climbed into the sky.

“I got one.”

Leo’s voice came through the speakers, likely to reassure his team that he was unharmed.

Kiyoaki looked back.

Far below, the Gorgona formation was in chaos, flames erupting from several planes.

Leo had apparently fired on the Gorgonas as he passed overhead, setting three of them ablaze. They were now trying to veer off course while their planes burned.

But then, from behind, two more squadrons—six Beo-Eagle fighters—descended upon the remaining bombers. Despite the intense anti-aircraft fire, they broke through the barrage in an instant, setting four more bombers aflame.

Above them, more explosions filled the sky.

Fighter planes, engulfed in flames, spiralled downward, trailing long plumes of smoke.

At first, Kiyoaki thought they were friendlies, but no. The falling planes were all Urano fighters, the Type 3 Idra.

Looking up, he saw Jude’s and Macguire’s squadrons, who had stayed behind, now controlling the skies at 4,000 meters. They had skilfully spotted and eliminated the enemy Idra fighters hiding behind the clouds. Kiyoaki hadn’t even noticed the Idra’s presence—had Jude’s squad not provided cover, he might have been taken out by a surprise attack.

The remaining Gorgona bombers, left behind, abandoned their bombing run and began turning away. They dumped their bombs into the ocean to lighten their load and attempted to flee at high speed.

They had won. Kiyoaki wanted to pursue them. As if sensing his thoughts, Leo’s voice came over the speakers.

“Don’t chase them too far. Jude, Macguire, thanks for the assist. Drinks are on me when we get back.”

“Yay!” “Roger!” “We love you, Captain!”

The replies from the junior officers were carefree, without a trace of arrogance or excitement. As if they had simply completed another routine mission, they began their return.

—So this is the Voltec Air Squadron…!!

In just a few minutes of aerial combat, Kiyoaki had come to understand their prowess.

Despite the number of enemy planes, Leo had fulfilled his earlier promise—none of his men had fallen, and they had won the battle. This victory wasn’t just thanks to Leo’s skill, but also the unwavering trust and discipline of his junior officers.

Kiyoaki had no idea how many more battles it would take to reach their level. All he knew was that he was nowhere near it yet.

But.

—Learn. Learn as much as you can.

Kiyoaki stared at Leo’s plane flying ahead of him. One day, he wanted to lead his comrades with the same level of skill and confidence, bringing them back safely with victorious results. For now, he would treasure each experience, building up his knowledge little by little. The journey ahead was long, but he had no choice but to move forward, step by step. With this resolve, Kiyoaki followed the squadron back to Chandler Base’s third airfield.

That night—

On the beach, the pilots of the Voltec Air Squadron, about 140 strong, were celebrating their victory with a wild outdoor party. Alongside them were not just their female pilots but also girls brought from the nearby town. Music blared from the radio, and laughter and boasts about their battlefield feats filled the air, blending with the sound of the waves.

Was the sortie earlier in the day simply an excuse for this party? Such suspicions arose as the junior officers poured the same passion into their drinking and interactions with the opposite sex as they did into combat.

“Man, this is a great atmosphere! I thought frontline squadrons were all stiff and formal. This is the best,” Reiner said, standing beside Kiyoaki, holding a paper cup of beer and watching the squad members gathered around the fire. To the upbeat jazz flowing from the radio, they laughed, sang, and danced, clearly having a great time. Some, now quite drunk, had even stripped off their clothes and jumped into the sea for a swim. They seemed determined to enjoy the moment to the fullest, a release from their everyday lives lived on the edge. Beneath the moon, stars, and the glow of the bonfire, the celebration of the sky warriors showed no signs of ending.

“Come on, have a drink. If you can’t even drink, you’ll never fit in with the junior officers,” Reiner grinned as he handed Kiyoaki another paper cup.

“Uh… in the Akitsu Federation, you’re not supposed to drink until you’re an adult…,” Kiyoaki said, hesitating. He was turning nineteen next month, in June. In his homeland, underage drinking was punishable, so he was cautious.

“Maybe that’s the case in your country, but here in St Vault, anyone over eighteen can drink. So, it’s all good—go ahead and drink.”

“O-okay…”

Reiner was right. It wasn’t a problem here. Kiyoaki took his first sip of alcohol.

“Bitter.”

It tasted strange. He didn’t understand what was supposed to be enjoyable about it. His head began to feel a bit warm. Reiner, still wearing his usual carefree smile, turned to Illia, holding another paper cup.

“And you too, Illia. Drinking with the junior officers is important, you know? Think of it as practice.”

“…”

With a stiff expression, Illia accepted the beer.

“Looks like you’ve never had a drink before either. We’re not students anymore, you know? Even though we’re still candidates for junior officers, we’re proper adults now. There’s no problem—just drink up.”

Despite the pressure, Illia stared intently into the cup, unmoving. It was only after Reiner repeatedly urged her that she finally raised her eyes, looking troubled.

“… My father was an alcoholic… I’ve seen firsthand the effects alcohol can have on a person’s mind. So, to be honest… I’m afraid to drink this.”

Reiner shot a bewildered look at Kiyoaki. Concerned, Kiyoaki spoke up.

“Yeah, you shouldn’t force yourself. If you’re scared, it’s better not to drink.”

Reiner let out a strange laugh, shrugging his shoulders.

“Man, Illia can be surprisingly cautious. People become alcoholics because they can’t control themselves, right? But you’re fine—you’re so strict about self-control that nobody even asked you to be!”

“…”

“Look at everyone. They’ve thrown off their usual restraint and are having a great time. That’s how you’re supposed to drink. Drinking while sulking and dragging things out is the worst. But if you drink like they are, it’ll only strengthen the bond between you and your comrades.”

For once, Reiner’s words carried weight. Kiyoaki, feeling slightly more convinced, took a second sip of his beer. It was still bitter, and not particularly tasty, but somehow it seemed to ease a bit of the heaviness that had settled in his chest.

“… Yeah, I see your point, Reiner. But… when I think about my father’s blood running through my veins…”

“I’m telling you, it’s fine. Alcohol addiction isn’t hereditary. What you should focus on is your relationships with everyone. We’re officers now. If we can’t connect with our subordinates, we don’t have the right to lead them into battle.”

Finally, Illia’s gaze showed a hint of resolve. She nodded slightly, turning to Kiyoaki and Reiner with a determined look on her face.

“…You have a point. If drinking this helps foster smoother communication, then it’s worth trying. Besides, it’s just beer. As long as I can maintain control, there’s nothing to be afraid of. I vow—I will never lose myself to alcohol.”

She declared it as if reassuring herself. Kiyoaki clapped in response.

“Yeah, you’ll be fine, Illia. And even if you start feeling sick, we’ll be here to support you, so don’t worry!”

“Yeah, leave it to us. If you turn out to be a bad drunk, we’ll hold you back with everything we’ve got. We’ll keep a watchful eye, so you just focus on enjoying the drink!”

With her resolve finally set, Illia straightened her back and, as if preparing to fire on an enemy, took her first sip.

“So, how is it?”

Reiner asked cheerfully. Illia shook her head slightly and answered.

“It tastes as I expected. Nothing surprising.”

Reiner let out an exaggerated “Ooh,” and said, “But once you finish the whole cup, your thoughts might change.”

“Is that so? From just this?”

Emboldened by Reiner’s challenge, Illia quickly downed the entire cup in one go.

“There. Nothing to it.”

With a focused gaze, she met Reiner’s eyes. He grinned and walked over to the barrel by the fire, refilling her cup with more beer.

“Not bad. How about you, Kiyoaki? You can’t let Illia outdo you, right?”

“I’m fine. How are you feeling, Illia?”

“I feel no different. Honestly, I’m embarrassed that I ever feared something so trivial.”

Taking her refill from Reiner, Illia drank it as easily as if it were a soft drink.

Just then, Lulu and Lala came running over with playful shrieks.

“Wow, Illia’s drinking alcohol! So cute!”

They both latched onto Illia.

“Who knew Illia could drink? Sooo cute!”

Clearly intoxicated, Lulu and Lala clung to Illia, repeating how cute she was over and over.

Seeing this, the junior officers, who had been watching from a distance, came over with their drinks in hand and called out to Illia.

“Whoa, Candidate Kreischmidt’s drinking with us!”

“We thought an elite candidate like you would never join us for a drink!”

Illia was well-liked among the junior officers, but many had felt she was unapproachable. Now, seeing her share drinks around the same fire, they seemed genuinely happy.

Illia raised her cup seriously.

“Likewise. I was impressed by your skill in today’s battle. I hope to catch up to you all soon. Cheers.”

When she initiated the toast, the junior officers raised their drinks to the night sky.

“Cheers!”

A loud chorus rang out as everyone downed their drinks. Kiyoaki and Reiner, following Illia’s lead, emptied their cups as well.

“Illia, let’s dance with everyone! It’s sooo much fun!”

Lulu and Lala grabbed Illia’s hands and pulled her toward the fire.

“Dancing? I’ve never tried it.”

“We’ll teach you! But it’s easy—just let your body move to the music!”

“Please instruct me.”

Illia allowed herself to be led toward the fire, joining the circle of people dancing to the radio’s music.

“Come on, Candidate Kreischmidt!” “You’re gonna dance? Right this way!”

The dancing junior officers noticed her and clapped their hands in cheer.

“Illia, come on, like this!”

Lulu and Lala guided her, playfully forcing her into the dance.

“L-like this? I’m not sure…”

Though a bit awkward, Illia followed their steps. She seemed stiff, but she was managing just fine.

“You’re doing great! That’s it—just keep going with the flow!”

“Keep dancing, Illia!”

Lulu and Lala laughed as they spun around the fire. The junior officers cheered her on, singing loudly as they joyfully joined the dance.

“Have another drink, Candidate Kreischmidt!”

Noticing that Illia’s cup was empty, one of the junior officers handed her a fresh drink. Perhaps feeling thirsty from the dancing, Illia casually downed it, keeping up with Lulu and Lala.

From a short distance away, Kiyoaki watched Illia’s steps.

She must have been feeling warm, because at some point, she had taken off her military jacket, and now, like everyone else, she was down to a T-shirt, moving to the music. Her red hair fluttered in the night, illuminated by the orange glow of the fire, with sparks flickering around her.

—She looks like a fire fairy.

The thought crossed his mind. Perhaps it was the alcohol loosening his self-control, but he found himself mesmerized by her dance.

“Hey, don’t just stand there! Let’s dance too!” Reiner urged, snapping Kiyoaki out of his daze, and they both joined the circle.

Noticing him, Illia stepped closer, still dancing.

“How are you doing, Sakagami?”

She seemed to be in a much better mood than usual, and her forehead and cheeks looked red—probably from the firelight, Kiyoaki assumed. He smiled back.

“I’m having fun. Thanks to you.”

“Sometimes, this kind of thing isn’t bad. It feels freeing.”

“Yeah. You seem to be having fun too, Illia.”

“Come on. Let’s dance. If you don’t interact with the junior officers, you can’t be a proper officer.”

Illia extended her hand. Kiyoaki hesitated briefly but then took it, following her steps awkwardly. Seeing his clumsy footwork, Illia softened her expression.

“What’s that? You’re like a chicken. It’s like this, like this.”

She demonstrated the steps, moving her feet in time with the music, guiding Kiyoaki.

“L-like this?”

“Yes, just like that. Now, let’s go—keep up with me!”

Issuing commands as if she were on a battlefield, Illia led Kiyoaki into the dance circle.

—Illia’s in such a good mood.

Kiyoaki had never seen her like this. This was the most joyful he had ever seen her.

—Could she be drunk?

It was a possibility, but—

—This much should be fine.

She wasn’t bothering anyone, so it should be okay. Deciding that this was just the positive side of alcohol, Kiyoaki surrendered himself to the music.

The dance was simple—just stepping in time to the music, taking hands with your partner, and spinning around. It was easy enough, but just dancing hand in hand with Illia made Kiyoaki feel incredibly happy.

“Haha. You’re getting the hang of it, Sakagami,” Illia said, her back lit by the fire, smiling.

It was Illia’s smile—one Kiyoaki hadn’t seen in a long time.

It was a sweet, almost heart-wrenching smile.

“You’re great at this, Illia. You might have a talent for dancing.”

“Really? That makes me happy. It almost feels like we’re in a dreamland.”

Illia spoke with a shy smile.

—She’s… adorable…

Kiyoaki’s heart pounded in his chest. He barely managed to suppress the urge to hold Illia in his arms, quickly composing himself and keeping his expression neutral.

“Illia, are you okay? Are you a little tipsy?”

“Maybe… Yeah, I feel a bit more lightheaded than usual.”

“You should probably drink some water. I’ll go get some.”

Kiyoaki stopped dancing and looked around. Just then, Lala approached him.

“Oh? Are you done already? The night’s just getting started!”

“Uh, Lala, do you have any water? Illia’s starting to feel the effects of the alcohol.”

“Oh, water? Give me a sec!”

Lala quickly disappeared behind the crowd and returned with a large bottle in hand.

“Here you go! Is Illia getting tipsy? She should rest somewhere quiet. Kiyoaki, you take her there, okay?” she said with a mischievous wink, patting him on the back and pointing to a quieter part of the beach. The sandy shore stretched far into the distance, and the spot she indicated was away from the bonfire’s light. Kiyoaki figured a quiet place would be perfect for sobering up, so he took the bottle from Lala, thanking her.

“Thanks. Illia, let’s go rest over there.”

Illia nodded obediently and took a long swig from the bottle.

“This is delicious. I didn’t know water could taste this good.”

She let out a satisfied sigh, almost like she’d just drunk alcohol, and murmured in amazement. In good spirits, she followed Kiyoaki to a quieter area of the beach.

“The night sea is nice,” Illia remarked.

“Yeah, the night breeze feels great,” Kiyoaki agreed.

The sounds of music and chatter faded behind them, and the calm of the night began to envelop them both.

Illia took another gulp from the bottle, wiped her mouth with her arm, and looked up at the sky.

“The stars are beautiful.”

The bonfire had shrunk into a tiny speck in the distance, leaving the beach illuminated only by the moon and stars.

“You’re right. It’s amazing. It’s been a while since I’ve seen stars like this.”

A vast Milky Way spilled gold, silver, blue, and yellow light down toward them. Listening to the sound of the waves and gazing at the stars, Kiyoaki felt as though they were in a paradise far removed from the war.

“Do you remember that time we broke through enemy lines in the Eriadore? The stars were incredible then, too,” Illia said with a fond smile.

“Of course. The Etica meteor shower. It was like the stars were rushing toward us. I miss that.”

It had been a surreal sight. He and Illia had watched from the cockpit as thousands of stars showered down on the Eriadore airship, streaming past them as they flew above the clouds.

“It hasn’t even been two years since then, but it feels like a lifetime ago.”

“Yeah… A lot’s happened since.”

As they walked side by side along the beach, a wave of nostalgia washed over them.

It had been a year and nine months since that adventure on the Eriadore airship, when they first met. They had transferred to the Air Hunt Academy, honed their skills in mock air battles, witnessed the destruction of Air Hunt Island, and said goodbye to Mio… All those memories came flooding back to Kiyoaki, leaving only the pain behind.

“Yeah… It’s hard to believe it’s been less than two years.”

“Yeah… And there’s probably a lot more ahead of us.”

“Let’s hope there are more happy times, not sad ones.”

“Yeah… I hope so.”

They fell silent for a while, the sound of the waves gently lapping at the shore the only noise.

Then, Illia glanced at Kiyoaki’s profile and hesitated before speaking.

“Sakagami…”

“Yeah?”

“Well… It’s just…”

“What is it?”

Illia seemed to be pondering something, then shook her head and looked straight ahead again.

“…Sorry. Never mind.”

Kiyoaki felt deflated.

“Hey, it’s okay. Don’t be shy. You can tell me anything.”

“…No, it’s nothing. It seems the alcohol’s affecting me more than I thought. Don’t worry about it—it’s just nonsense.”

Even as Kiyoaki gently urged her to speak, Illia didn’t say anything more. Watching her rigid expression, Kiyoaki wondered if she was thinking about Mio, and in that moment, he decided not to push further.

He had never talked about Mio when he was alone with Illia. Neither of them had been able to come to terms with the events involving her, and it was a difficult topic to broach. Illia had always been careful not to mention Mio’s name in front of Kiyoaki since then.

“I’m acting strange. I need to sober up quickly.”

Trying to shake it off, Illia took another long gulp from the bottle. Kiyoaki forced a smile.

“Yeah, they say drinking a lot of water helps dilute the alcohol in your system.”

“That’s good. My head’s been spinning for a while now. I’ll just keep drinking water.”

With that, she gripped the bottle with both hands, closed her eyes, and gulped down more of its contents.

“I really like the smell of the sea breeze. It’s comforting,” Kiyoaki said, trying to lift the mood. He stretched his arms toward the sky, letting out a long yawn. Illia, standing beside him, mimicked his actions, stretching her arms toward the stars.

“It feels like I could scoop up the stars with my hands.”

“Yeah. It’d be nice if we could reach them.”

“Do you think we’ll ever be able to travel to the stars?”

“With the way aircraft technology is advancing, I’m sure we will someday.”

“That sounds wonderful. I wish we could use planes for things like that instead of for war.”

“Yeah, I agree. Using them for fighting… it just feels wrong.”

Illia was standing so close that their shoulders brushed. A gentle breeze passed between them, lifting Illia’s hair and softly caressing Kiyoaki’s ear.

She smelled like spring flowers, a scent mingled with the salty sea air, and it tightened something deep inside Kiyoaki’s chest.

— I want to hold her.

The urge he had been fighting all night surged up again. Blaming the alcohol, Kiyoaki clenched his fists and forced himself to suppress his desires.

“How are you feeling now? Any better?” he asked, trying to sound casual.

Illia sighed deeply, almost in frustration.

“I might be feeling worse… My head is spinning.”

“Yeah, alcohol can hit harder after a while. I know you’ve been drinking a lot of water, but it’s still not helping?”

“I don’t know. I’m not sure…”

Illia had been drinking a considerable amount of water, but her condition hadn’t improved at all. In fact, the more she drank, the wobblier she got. Her cheeks were flushed, and her words started to lose their sharpness. Something didn’t feel right. As she gulped down more from the bottle, her steps became unsteady, and Kiyoaki noticed that her expression seemed off.

“Illia, let me see that bottle for a second.”

“Hm? Why?”

Illia tilted her head, smiling sweetly, almost childishly.

“Just let me check. I need to make sure of something.”

He grabbed the bottle from her hand, took a swig, and immediately spat it out.

“This is wine! It tastes like grapes!”

“What? It’s not water?”

“There’s no way this is water! Have you been drinking this the whole time? Lala, what were you thinking? You can’t do that!”

Wine is easy to drink, but poor-quality wine can lead to bad hangovers. There was no way Lala would have given Illia expensive wine—this was definitely a cheap one meant to cause drunkenness. Illia had apparently been too drunk to even tell the difference between water and wine when Lala handed her the bottle.

“Really? I did think it was a little sweet for water…”

Illia giggled softly. Her words had become slurred, and Kiyoaki was horrified to see that the one-litre bottle was nearly empty. Illia must have been drunk even while they were dancing, and now, with this much cheap wine in her system…

“The stars have multiplied.”

Illia suddenly shouted, raising her hands to the sky, and before Kiyoaki could react, she ran toward the sea.

“Wait, wait, wait! Illia, don’t go into the water!”

Panicking, Kiyoaki ran after her, but Illia was already knee-deep in the ocean, gleefully splashing water with both hands.

“This feels great! Let’s swim, Sakagami!”

“No! You can’t swim when you’re drunk! It’s dangerous!”

Illia kicked at the waves, playfully splashing water at him.

“Illia, stop messing around!”

He tried to reason with her, but Illia, now too intoxicated to listen, just laughed and waded in deeper, splashing more water at him.

“Illia, okay, I get it. Please come back. If you go in any further, it’ll be really dangerous.”

If this kept up, she would definitely drown. Kiyoaki himself stepped into the water up to his waist, cautiously approaching her as if trying to coax a wild animal.

“Why not? Why can’t we swim?”

“Because you’ll drown! Please, Illia, I’ll do whatever you want, just come back, okay?”

Illia’s mischievous smile widened as she lowered her hands from the water.

“You’ll do anything I say?”

“Yeah, yes, anything.”

“Do you swear it?”

“I swear. I’ll do whatever you ask.”

“Then… I’ve got an idea!” Illia beamed, spreading her arms wide like a child.

“Give me a piggyback ride!”

“A p-piggyback ride?”

“Yeah! A piggyback ride!”

Apparently, Illia became childlike when she got drunk. She was now acting like a kid, eagerly asking for a piggyback ride.

Though taken aback at first, Kiyoaki figured it was better than letting her drown.

“Alright, I’ll give you a piggyback ride! Come on, hop on!”

He turned his back to her and bent down. The next moment, something incredibly soft pressed against the nape of his neck.

“Yay! A piggyback ride!”

Illia’s breath tickled his ear as she clung to him, her slender arms wrapping around his chest. Kiyoaki could feel her ample chest pressing against his back. He reached around to support her knees as he lifted her up.

“A piggyback ride makes me so happy.”

Illia clung to Kiyoaki, pressing her feminine warmth and softness against him without holding back. Feeling her warmth and the softness of her body across his back, Kiyoaki fought to maintain control over his instincts, using every ounce of restraint he had as he trudged through the sand, kicking up the waves as he returned to the shore.

“I’m not getting down yet. Keep walking!”

“Yes, yes, I’ll keep walking.”

He couldn’t let the junior officers see Illia in this state. They would mock her endlessly, and in her current defenceless state, there was no telling what might happen. It was best to stay like this until she sobered up.

“I love piggyback rides… It’s been a long time since I had one…”

Illia whispered in his ear, her voice filled with a childlike sweetness. Instinctively knowing it was best not to argue with a drunk person, Kiyoaki responded casually.

“Did your mother give you piggyback rides?”

“No, not my mother. Just once, my father did.”

“Really? Karsten did? That’s surprising.”

“Yeah. When I was little. I was training to fly, and I fell off the wing and got hurt. My father gave me a piggyback ride all the way home.”

Illia spoke with a nostalgic, slurred voice, recalling the memory fondly.

“That must have made you really happy.”

“Yeah, just that once. My father carried me on his back with one arm. His back was so big, so warm…”

“Sounds like Karsten was kind to you.”

“I wanted him to carry me forever, but we reached home too quickly. I was really sad when it ended. I wished he would carry me forever…”

Illia’s voice grew melancholic. It seemed that might have been the only time her father had shown her such tenderness. She clung to Kiyoaki even more tightly, as if seeking the comfort she remembered from her childhood.
[[File:IlliaAsleep.png|thumb]]
Kiyoaki could feel Illia’s loneliness and sorrow radiating through her embrace on his back.

“Maybe Karsten wanted to carry you forever too,” Kiyoaki said softly.

“You think so? I wonder what my father was feeling…”

“He was worried about you. Carrying you with one arm must have been tough, but he did it all the way home.”

“Do you think so…? I hope you’re right.”

“I’m sure of it. He wouldn’t have done that unless he cared about you.”

Illia gently pressed her cheek against Kiyoaki’s hair, rubbing her face affectionately. He could feel the soft warmth of her lips through his hair, and his heart raced even faster.

“I don’t want to get down yet.”

Kiyoaki, too, didn’t want to let go. If he could, he would carry Illia on his back for as long as his strength allowed.

“I’ll carry you as long as you want.”

“…Thank you… Sakagami, you’re so kind.”

“You’re welcome.”

“Kind, even though you’re a Black Rabbit. You’re always kind.”

Kiyoaki laughed, “I haven’t been teasing you recently, have I?”

“You have. You always tease me. You provoke me on purpose just to see me get mad, don’t you?”

Illia tugged on his cheeks, making him smile wider.

“I do not! I do not!”

They both laughed as they continued walking along the long, quiet beach, guided only by the blue moonlight and the thousands of stars.

The rowdy noise from the junior officers had completely faded, leaving only the gentle sound of waves lapping at the shore. It was just the two of them now, alone with the sea and the night.

— This is happiness…

Kiyoaki felt a deep sense of contentment. He imagined walking with Illia like this, reaching an island without war, and living together in peace…

“Hey, Sakagami.”

His daydream was interrupted by Illia’s soft voice.

“Yeah?”

“I’m not sure if I should say this… but, can I?”

“Of course. You can tell me anything.”

“It might be a bit… meddlesome, though.”

“That’s fine. I don’t mind if it’s from you.”

“Okay then… Well…”

Even after hesitating, Illia finally spoke.

“It’s about Mio. There’s something I haven’t told you.”

Kiyoaki’s heart almost stopped at the mention of Mio’s name. Just hearing it from Illia made his pulse quicken.

“Yeah?”

He tried to keep his voice calm and natural.

“Remember after she came back from winter break? She started avoiding everyone… and one night, when she was sharing the bunk with me… I told you she was crying, right?”

“Yeah. You told me about that.”

Illia had once shared that she had witnessed Mio sobbing quietly in their shared room at the Air Hunt Officer Academy. But it seemed there was something more Illia hadn’t mentioned.

“And… well… this might be hard to hear, but… I’ve been debating whether to tell you…”

“It’s okay. Please tell me. I need to know.”

“Okay… so, the thing is…”

After a brief pause, Illia whispered the words.

“Mio… she was calling your name.”

“…What?”

“In her sleep. She called your name, over and over, sounding like she was in pain.”

A warm breeze blew past them, stirring up the waves, which lapped at Kiyoaki’s feet.

“…Sometimes, she would mumble apologies in her sleep. She was apologizing to you.”

Kiyoaki turned his face toward the sea. The stars crowded together above him, their reflection in the water forming a stream of silver tears. Somewhere beyond that horizon, he imagined Mio, still crying.

“So… the words she said to you when she left… those weren’t her true feelings. I believe Mio didn’t mean any of it.”

That day on Air Hunt Island, when it was burning, Mio had stood on the rocky cliffs and hurled cruel words at Kiyoaki before leaving him.

There was no way to ask her what she truly felt now.

But still…

“…I see. Mio… said my name…”

That simple truth washed away much of the frustration that had been festering inside him.

Mio had held him in her heart, somewhere deep within.

The knowledge of that simple fact brought him an immense sense of relief.

“Mio was… such a kind person. She was always going above and beyond to help everyone before the winter break. But after her family forced her into becoming a spy… she had no choice but to act like a villain and erase herself from our lives. I think… that’s why.”

Illia’s words resonated deeply with Kiyoaki’s soul.

“Yeah… that sounds like something Mio would do.”

“So… you weren’t deceived by her. Mio cared about you deeply… I’m sure she still does.”

“Do you think so? I hope you’re right.”

“I know it’s presumptuous of me to say, but… I think Mio was just too kind… She always put others before herself, and she didn’t value her own happiness enough…”

“Yeah… It feels like you understand Mio better than I do. Even though I’ve known her for longer.”

“It’s just a feeling. But before the winter break, we used to talk late into the night sometimes. I think I got to know a little bit about how she thought.”

“Thank you for telling me, Illia. Really… thank you.”

“You’re welcome. As a reward… keep giving me that piggyback ride.”

“Sure. I’m happy to.”

Without speaking further, the two of them continued walking along the beach, just feeling each other’s presence.

Before long, Kiyoaki heard the soft sound of Illia’s breathing near his temple.

She had fallen asleep, exhausted from the alcohol. Kiyoaki smiled and, careful not to wake her, continued to walk along the moonlit and starlit shore.

As they walked, memories of Mio came and went, as if carried on the wind.

"Forget everything. Every word I’ve ever said to you was a lie. I’m a liar."

He remembered that morning of the mock air battle with Illia, when he had found Mio sitting alone on a bench, eating her breakfast. He had hugged her tightly, demanding to know why she was pushing him away. That’s when Mio had spoken those words, crying as she did.

"I can’t fight without you."

Kiyoaki had told her that through his own tears.

"I’d do anything for you."

Back then, he had meant it with all his heart. He would have burned the entire world down for her if it had been necessary.

Now, that deep resolve stirred within him once again, transforming into a new sense of courage.

— I won’t let it end like this.

— I’ll find Mio. No matter what it takes.

— I swear it on my life.

"To end this war, I will crush Urano."

It was a dream too large for his fourteen-year-old self.

"Let me share that dream with you," Mio had said, standing beside him as they both gazed at the ruins of their homeland.

Kiyoaki now added a new layer of determination to that old promise.

— I will destroy Urano to bring you back.

He would destroy Urano, not as some vague dream or distant hope, but as the purpose to which he would dedicate his life. Every moment from now on would be devoted to that singular goal: to end Urano and bring Mio back.

— I will never forgive Urano for what they did to you.

No matter how enormous the enemy, no matter how far they were, no matter how small and insignificant he might seem in comparison, he would make it happen one day.

“I will bring you back.”

Kiyoaki spoke those words aloud, with all the strength he could muster, into the vast, star-filled sky.

Illia slowly opened her eyes.

At some point, she had fallen asleep.

She glanced up at the moonlight and starlight and realized she was being carried on Kiyoaki’s back.

Her head was tingling. The effects of the alcohol were causing thoughts that she usually kept buried to surface one after another.

—But it’s fine. Just for now.

She attributed this rare freedom to the alcohol, allowing her to accept it.

Still pretending to be asleep, Illia let her hand slip down from Kiyoaki’s shoulder, clasping it in front of his chest.

Then, through her own hair, she pressed her cheek against his, gently tightening her grip on him with her arms and legs.

It felt as if she were embracing him from behind.

—Don’t let go.

That was the thought that crossed her mind.

—I want to stay like this forever…

If she were sober, she would have immediately dismissed such a thought. But in this moment, Illia didn’t resist her own feelings.

—Don’t leave me.

The wish welled up from deep inside her heart. She didn’t know why. There was no reason for it. But she wanted to ask the Kiyoaki who was carrying her right now to stay by her side.

—Don’t go anywhere.

—Stay close to me, always.

A sense of longing began to stir inside her, as if she knew, with absolute certainty, that Kiyoaki would disappear from her life.

Still pretending to sleep, Illia clung tighter to him.

—I want to be with you forever.

She listened to the soft voice of her own heart without resisting. For some reason, tears threatened to well up. Illia told herself that her thoughts were only confused because of the alcohol.

Toaru Hikuushi e no Seiyaku:V4Part1

2025-12-01T23:23:18Z

QCore:

==Prologue==

“It’s undeniable that your departure is fortunate for me. However…”

Simon Berner spoke these words to the retreating back, hesitating a bit on the next part. Should he really say this to a family member with whom he shares blood? For the past twelve years, he had lived with his brother in this distorted mansion, the main estate of the Berner conglomerate, and now they were facing what could be their final parting in this lifetime.

His brother turned only his face to look back at Simon. He carried a single knapsack, much like any commoner. His attire was a shabby hunting suit with tight cuffs and a simple flat cap. He didn’t look anything like the heir of the Berner conglomerate, more like an ordinary person.

Yet, despite his humble appearance, there was an undeniable noble air to his sharp features, as though they might cut at a touch. Pride and stubbornness gleamed in his eyes, which looked down on everything from a slanted, haughty perspective, while a smirk played at the corner of his mouth. Just as Simon sensed the arrival of a sarcastic remark, it came as expected.

“This shack suits someone as ordinary as you.”

Those were not the words of a typical fourteen-year-old boy. Yet, his brother said them, to his own flesh and blood, at a moment like this.

Simon mimicked the gestures of the adults who frequented the mansion, shrugging his shoulders.

“I don’t understand what bothers you. If you just followed Father’s ways, you could live a life of luxury without lifting a finger.”

His brother snorted. That sound alone translated in Simon’s mind to, “That’s exactly the kind of thinking that makes you ordinary.” Ever since he was born, his brother had always thrown such lines at him, so much so that he didn’t even feel frustration anymore.

“Do you have a plan?”

“Do you think I would run away without one? Everything is in place. Father’s capabilities won’t be enough to trace my steps from here.”

Where does this confidence come from? He’s only fourteen, yet he acts like he knows everything about the world. No matter how talented he is, this attitude is exactly why their father and grandfather have distanced themselves from him.

“I can’t understand you at all. I don’t know what you’re dissatisfied with or what you want to do… Even though we’re brothers, we share no values. But I do wish you good luck. It’s not like I hate you. I’m just sorry I couldn’t even be someone you could vent to, despite being your brother.”

His brother smiled faintly. Then, he fully turned his body toward Simon.

“Can I ask you for one favour?”

“Y-Yeah.”

It was the first time his brother had ever asked him for anything. His brother, who always carried all his problems on his own shoulders and solved them alone. Wanting to help, Simon leaned in eagerly.

The favour was far from ordinary.

“Within ten years, build a jet fighter.”

All Simon could do was blink and stare at his brother’s face.

“In the future, whoever controls the skies will win the wars. In ten years, jet fighters will dominate the skies. By that time, military power will be outsourced to private entities. So, you will lead the Berner conglomerate in building jet fighters. Once they’re built, I’ll buy them all. Understood?”

“……”

“I made this request to both our grandfather and father, but it seems their heads are stuffed with sawdust. They couldn’t comprehend my idea. Even if you’re an idiot, at least you try to listen, so you’re still aware of your limitations.”

Being asked by a fourteen-year-old to “build a jet fighter within ten years” isn’t something anyone could immediately agree to. After a minute of silence, Simon finally gave a dry reply.

“I don’t really understand, but within ten years, I need to build a jet fighter. I’ll… remember that.”

“No. Promise me you’ll build it.”

With unusual intensity, his brother demanded an oath.

“Even for you, it will turn into a tailwind. No matter how much others laugh at you, you must build the jet.”

The usual mocking smile vanished, and for once, his brother’s eyes harboured something sincere. It was a look Simon had never seen before, and for the first time, he felt truly acknowledged as a sibling.

“…Got it. Yes, I understand. Because it’s your request, I’ll do my best. I’ll build a jet within ten years.”

“If you break this promise, I’ll kill you.”

“……………………..”

“What’s with that face? What’s your problem?”

“…If I keep the promise, what do I get in return?”

“After I drive the Berner family to ruin, I’ll spare you.”

“………………………..”

“Your strange expression just keeps getting stranger.”

“…Hey, why? What is it that you really want to do? What could be so important that you’d throw away your status for it?”

The sincerity that had been in his brother’s face twisted quickly into a devilish grin. It was the all-too-familiar expression that everyone—parents, grandparents, relatives—hated so much.

From the corner of his upturned mouth, Balthazar Berner’s uncontrollable ambition burst forth.

“I’m going to conquer a country.”

What an idiot.

Even though Simon thought this in his heart, there was no way his voice would reach Balthazar, who now faced the void with that same grin, dreaming of an impossible future.

“I will obtain my own country. For that, I can’t stay satisfied in a rabbit hutch like this forever. I need to meet more people, and see the wider world. To eventually change this world into the form I desire.”

“……”

Simon had no words to respond. The person standing in front of him no longer seemed like his brother, but like someone from another world. Could this man really have grown up in the same family? Could they even share the same blood? Simon found himself doubting the very fundamentals.

“Well, I’m off. You take care, as best you can, in your ordinary way.”

Even his parting words were laced with sarcasm, as Balthazar suddenly left the room like a spring breeze.

The door closed, and Simon was left alone in the vast, empty room. Outside the decorative window, it was already pitch dark. Where on earth was his brother planning to go at such a late hour? Normally, one would come home, crying and begging within a day or two.

If he were normal.

“But my brother… isn’t normal.”

Simon was certain that his brother would never return to this house. The phrase “sovereign individual” might as well have been invented for Balthazar. He couldn’t imagine that the man, who had so carelessly kicked sand at the Berner family’s reputation, would come crawling back without even getting a foot in the door of his grand ambition. If he were to return, it would surely be after achieving his dream of “conquering a country,” just as he had vowed.

“Build a jet fighter within ten years.”

That order now weighed heavily on Simon’s shoulders.

Normally, such a command could be shrugged off as a joke, but Balthazar was not one to joke. If Simon didn’t build the jet within ten years, he might really be killed.

Simon stared at his reflection in the night’s window. His face clearly showed fear. His brother’s arrogant smile loomed over his own insecure expression.

“My brother will conquer a country, and I will build a jet fighter…”

There was no way to avoid being caught up in such an enormous ambition. Even though it was an impossible dream, the fact that Balthazar had said it aloud seemed to spark some kind of fire deep within Simon.

—Maybe it’s possible.

That heat, burning from within, was strangely comforting. Whether it led to heaven or hell, Simon didn’t care. Wrapped in the flame of this dream, he thought, perhaps it wouldn’t be so bad to live his life like this.

“…Change this world into the form I desire…”

Like a man possessed, the younger brother muttered those words to himself.

Part 2: The Second Archipelago War

These colours will soon be lost, never to return. They belong only to this fleeting moment that governs the eastern sky at dawn.

The thin clouds hanging along the horizon, like the mouth of a furnace, burned bright red, and the fresh scarlet overflowed into the ocean, silently bleeding into the ripples. Soon, from that furnace, the red gave way to gold, spilling forth arrows of light that shot across the sky.

At the boundary where morning chased away the night, wings of blue-Gray danced in the air.

Like migrating birds in formation, they descended slowly at an angle into the dawn. Ahead of the steel wings lay a large volcanic island, cutting into the silver sea with its jagged outline.

By the time the sun had lifted from the horizon, bathing the world in brass-coloured light, the wings had returned to Chandler Airfield on Mauregan Island. The pilots of the Red Goat bombers, having completed their routine patrol mission, one by one disembarked from their cockpits.

The canopy of the last Red Goat opened, and a young man, no older than a boy, took off his flight cap. The pristine May morning sun shone down on his still youthful features.

Sakagami Kiyoaki, a candidate for Second Lieutenant in the St Vault Naval Air Force, signalled to the mechanics running toward him that everything was normal. He then leapt down from the wing root to the ground and made his way to the air command post.

After finishing his debriefing to the base commander, Kiyoaki emerged from the command post to find another task awaiting him.

“Stop. We’re taking it here.”

The officer from the public relations department accompanying him gave the order, and Kiyoaki halted his steps. He didn’t even sigh anymore.

“Look that way, toward the morning sun.”

Like a doll, he obediently directed his gaze where he was told. Beside him, Illia Kreischmidt, another candidate for Second Lieutenant, also stared at the camera with an expressionless face that clearly said, “Let’s get this over with already.”

“Look that way. Match your gaze with Sakagami’s.”

The officer outranked them. Illia reluctantly followed the order and directed her gaze as instructed, enduring an excessive number of photos being taken. After changing poses several times in front of the barracks, they finally completed all their early morning duties.

As she watched the backs of the departing officers from the public relations department, now bathed in the high midday sun, Illia spoke in frustration.

“Ridiculous. We’re not animals in a zoo. How much longer do we have to put up with this?”

“It seems like we’ll have to endure it for another year. But thanks to this, we get to fly in planes as candidates, so we should bear with it.”

Kiyoaki tried to calm her down, but Illia’s anger didn’t subside. She was fed up with being subjected to public relations duties and irritated by the officers’ condescending attitude, treating them like objects. Even after being deployed to the battlefield as Second Lieutenant candidates, Kiyoaki and Illia, part of the “Six of Eriadore,” were increasingly expected to act as exemplary “icons.”

It was suffocating. It was displeasing to have their true selves cut away and be showcased across all of St Vault as models of what the military desired in its personnel.

Yet, as Illia had said earlier, it was because of this that they had been assigned to the frontlines and placed in the St Vault Naval Air Force’s most elite combat unit, the “Voltec Air Squadron.” Kiyoaki reminded himself that he had to endure the trivialities and make the most of the opportunity given to him.

“It’s a luxurious setup. Normally, we’d be wasting a year on chores during training cruises. I hate being put on display, but at least we get to see some real action.”

“…Yeah. I’d like to stop getting angry over such trivial things. I want to, but… I just can’t. I’m no good, really, like this…”

Illia muttered as if trying to convince herself. She was often required to smile for the camera, and each time, she reluctantly forced her lips into a crooked grin. It was almost pitiful to watch her try to meet the military’s expectations in her own awkward way.

Kiyoaki smiled. They had been enduring stressful days, and he felt they needed a break.

“What are your plans for tomorrow?”

“Tomorrow? Oh, it’s a rest day. I thought I’d practice a bit of swordsmanship.”

“Sword practice is fine, but how about going out for a change? Reiner and Kagura were talking about heading to the mountains. Apparently, there’s a secret hot spring up there.”

Illia considered the offer for a moment.

“A hot spring, huh? I’ve never been to one.”

“Kagura recommends it. She says it feels amazing.”

“Alright. I’ll go.”

“Then, how about we meet at seven in the morning?”

“Sure. Just don’t oversleep like last time.”

“Sorry, it won’t happen again. See you tomorrow.”

As Kiyoaki waved, Illia lightly waved back before heading off toward the women’s officer barracks. Kiyoaki stretched, then turned toward the men’s barracks to prepare for his afternoon duties.

Now alone, he let out a breath and looked up at the blue sky.

It was a peaceful spring on Mauregan Island, a tranquillity that didn’t seem fitting for the front lines.

In the distance, a range of mountains gently framed the edge of the blue sky. The area around the airfield was an open plain of red earth, with the contrast between the brown land, green mountains, and the blue sky dazzling to the eye.

The scattered forests were filled with thick greenery, and just a few steps in, the smell of damp soil and leaves would greet you. Strange animals would dart through the branches, while large lizards and geckos scurried across the undergrowth, and vividly coloured birds flew overhead.

Higher still, above the birds, large formations of bombers flew in tight formation, their propellers roaring ominously. The sweet scent of oil and the sharp smell of heavy fuel constantly mixed with the wind. Humanity’s destructive activities were steadily encroaching on the untouched natural beauty of the island.

—It’s already been a month since I got here…

The saying often heard in war, “Survive the first month, and you’re a veteran,” wasn’t commonly spoken at Chandler Fortress. Despite being on the front lines, there hadn’t been many opportunities for aerial combat due to the distance separating them from the Hydrabard military base, Sierra Greed, on the other side of the Great Waterfall. If a major aerial battle were to occur, it would be when the enemy’s carrier fleet crossed the waterfall and launched an attack on Chandler Fortress, but there had been no sign of that happening. For now, a relatively relaxed atmosphere enveloped the entire island.

However…

—No one knows when this place might become like Messus Island or Air Hunt Island.

Kiyoaki’s mind was suddenly filled with memories of destruction.

Two flying fortresses of Urano, “Balsinos” and “Kalkinos,” hidden within the storm. From those “flying islands,” each as large as Air Hunt Island, swarms of Type 3 Idra fighters had taken off like columns of mosquitoes.

His cadet school and the familiar streets were destroyed helplessly before his eyes.

Both his beloved homeland, Messus Island, and his second home, Air Hunt Island, had been laid to waste twice by Urano, right in front of him.

“I won’t let my guard down again. Never.”

Even his muttering carried a natural intensity. After long years of training, he had finally been allowed to fly a real fighter and enter combat. The conditions were vastly different from the sudden assault on Messus Island, where they hadn’t even been able to take off, or the surprise attack on Air Hunt Island, when he was still just a student.

—The sooner I can stand on the battlefield, the better.

—To stand on the stage where I can change the course of the war with my own hands.

Feeling the fire rise within him, Kiyoaki quickened his pace as he headed back to the barracks.

“Well, I won’t go so far as to say "let’s peek," since we’re not kids.”

Reiner Beck reclined against the rock wall in the milky-white hot spring water, looking up at the blue sky.

“But man, it’s hard to ignore the fact that just thirty steps beyond that bush, there are two beautiful women completely naked, soaking in the hot spring.”

He nudged Kiyoaki, encouraging him to agree, but Kiyoaki shook his head from side to side.

“That’s vulgar. It’s disrespectful to Kagura and Illia.”

“You’re such a good boy. Even after all this time in the harsh military life, you haven’t become jaded. I’m not jealous, but I respect it.”

“We’re officers. We have to act properly. In another year, we’ll be responsible for the lives of our subordinates.”

“You’re so stiff, even in the hot spring. It’s a day off, so forget about that stuff for a while. By the way, between Kagura and Illia, who do you think has the bigger chest? It’s probably Illia, right? She tries to hide it, but it’s pretty obvious she’s got a nice set. Damn, I’d love to confirm it with my own eyes.”

“Hey, stop saying that kind of stuff out loud. They can hear you. I don’t want to be lumped in with you.”

Although Kiyoaki tried to reprimand him, Reiner’s crude remarks didn’t stop. Being a healthy young man himself, Kiyoaki couldn’t help but imagine Kagura and Illia as they really were, their figures flashing briefly in his mind despite his best efforts. He was grateful for the cloudy water and tried to suppress any reactions by imagining something entirely unappealing, like his grandfather cleaning dentures, managing to control himself just in time.

“Instead of saying stupid things, let’s just enjoy the bath. The water’s amazing, isn’t it? Perfect temperature, too. If this were the Akitsu Federation, they’d have built an inn around this spring by now.”

As he said, the quality of the hot spring was excellent. The water clung to the skin with a slimy, viscous texture, and the strong smell of sulphur filled their noses like a stuffed egg. If they were in the Akitsu Federation, this natural hot spring would have long since been turned into a tourist attraction, but here on Mauregan Island, it remained a secluded, secret spot in the mountains that few people visited.

Steam rose from the water, drifting toward the dazzling blue sky. The chirping of birds in the deep mountains could be heard. The green of the May mountains was so fresh and young, it felt as if they were looking up from the bottom of a pristine water tank.

From beyond the bamboo thicket and the rock wall, Kagura and Illia’s faint voices mingled with the sounds of the birds. Though he couldn’t make out their conversation, they seemed to be enjoying themselves. Reiner squinted toward the bushes, grumbling.

“They seem to be having fun. Maybe I really should go peek.”

“We’re not children…”

Kiyoaki rebuked him, trying to keep his thoughts clear and focusing on the serene natural scenery as he soaked in the generous hot water.

Relaxing her body, Kagura Murasaki leaned against the rock wall behind her and floated on the surface of the milky water, gazing straight up at the blue sky.

“This feels amazing. Who would’ve thought we’d get to soak in a hot spring at the frontlines?”

Smiling, she glanced at her companion.

“This is my first time in a hot spring.”

Illia, who had her long hair tied back, sat in the water hugging her knees to cover her chest. She remained in a curled-up, seated posture.

“Relax your arms and legs and let the water carry you. Like this.”

Kagura’s limbs floated gracefully on the surface, like leaves drifting on water, while sunlight filtered through the trees, casting a soft, misty blue light on her. Her figure, bathed in the ethereal glow, looked like that of a forest fairy wrapped in a delicate white aura.

Illia glanced at Kagura and hesitantly mimicked her posture.

Resting the back of her head on the rock, she closed her eyes, relaxed her body, and stretched out her long legs. The buoyancy of the water lifted her naked body to the surface.

—Ah…

She couldn’t help but let out a sigh of relief. The warmth and softness of the water seeped into her body, easing the fatigue from her duties. The tranquillity of the mountains, the refreshing atmosphere, and the distant sounds of unfamiliar birds combined to lull her into a drowsy state.

Just as she was about to drift off, she felt a slight ripple in the water. Opening her eyes slightly, she saw Kagura had risen halfway out of the water and was peering at Illia’s exposed body.

“Eek…!”

Startled, Illia quickly covered her chest with her hands and sat up. Kagura, with a serious expression, nodded.

“Perfect figure. I couldn’t help but admire it.”

“W-what are you doing, Kagura, all of a sudden?”

“This is the first time I’ve felt admiration for another woman’s body. Could you let me see more?”

“Please don’t get any closer. This is really embarrassing.”

“There’s no need to be shy. This is a rare chance. Let’s get to know each other better.”

“W-what…? Kagura, that’s too much!”

“Oh, come on, it’s fine, it’s fine.”

“No, it’s not fine! Ah, no, stop! Stop it…!!”

Illia scrambled away from Kagura, kicking up water as she fled. Kagura, exhaling in satisfaction, reclined against the rock wall, her hands behind her head.

“Your body is the epitome of harmony. I’ve been blessed to witness such divine craftsmanship.”

“That’s disturbing! Please never do that again…!!”

“I got a little carried away. I apologize. Now, could you please turn back around?”

“I refuse. Kagura, you’re acting strange.”

“I’m just teasing. I won’t pounce on you again, so cheer up.”

Illia kept her back to Kagura, though her wary eyes remained on her. Kagura, sensing the need to smooth things over, softened her tone and tried to steer the conversation toward a topic Illia might find more engaging.

“Oh, by the way, I received a second letter from Cecil. It seems she’s made friends at her new school, but she still feels lonely.”

Illia, still keeping an eye on Kagura, responded.

“I also received a third letter from her the other day. She wrote about how she can’t wait to graduate.”

“Kiyoaki and Reiner also seem to have received letters. It would be nice if we could all be together again after graduation.”

“The public relations department probably wants to keep us ‘Six of Eriadore’ together. I think it’s a possibility.”

Despite one member being lost, the “Six of Eriadore” still had strong support from the younger generation. Even though Mio had betrayed them, this only heightened the sense of tragedy surrounding the remaining six, making it easier for the military to dramatize and promote them, garnering even more attention than before. The Navy and Air Force still wanted to use the “Six” to attract more volunteers.

Cecil was currently attending the Selfaust Officer School in St Vault’s capital. She was now a fourth-year student. After the destruction of the Air Hunt Island in September of the previous year, many of the Air Hunt Officer School buildings had collapsed, forcing some students to transfer. Illia, Kiyoaki, Reiner, and Cecil had all transferred to Selfaust, where they were now studying in a new environment.

With Illia, Kiyoaki, and Reiner graduating and being assigned to the Voltec Air Squadron alongside Kagura, Cecil was left behind at school as their junior.

“We’ll meet again next year. Whether or not we’ll still be on this island by then is uncertain. But as long as we survive, we’ll meet again.”

“…Yes. I believe that. We’ll survive, and we’ll see each other again…”

Illia and Cecil were as close as sisters, and being separated must have been difficult for both of them. Though the current war situation was calm, once major operations resumed, there would be no guarantees for their safety. In a moment where no one could be certain they would survive until tomorrow, Illia’s words carried a strong determination to stay alive for Cecil’s sake. Understanding their feelings, Kagura changed the subject once more.

“Oh, by the way, I saw Baltha on my last day off. We had lunch together.”

Illia’s expression turned slightly surprised.

“You met with him? How did you manage to get in touch?”

Balthazar worked at the Operations Headquarters for the Archipelago Region, which was located on the same Mauregan Island as the Voltec Air Squadron. So technically, they could have met, but Balthazar wasn’t the type to meet without a good reason. He tended to avoid unnecessary interactions, especially with people he wasn’t close to.

“I just barged into his office and asked for his address. You know, since both Baltha and I are part of the "Six," the people at the Operations Headquarters were lenient and gave me his address. He lives in an exclusive officers’ dormitory near the coast. The building was pretty elegant. I paid him a surprise visit on his day off, knocked on his door, and he came out unprepared. You should’ve seen the look on his face when he saw me—it was hilarious. I wish I could’ve shown you.”

Kagura laughed heartily, while Illia looked at her with a hint of envy.

“You’re so bold… Weren’t you worried he’d be annoyed?”

“He looked grumpy the whole time, but when I invited him to lunch, he came along, so I guess he wasn’t that bothered. Knowing him, he’s probably an outsider at work too, so he must’ve wanted someone to talk to. We had lunch at a nearby diner and then took a walk along the coast. It was actually pretty fun.”

“Kagura and Baltha, just the two of you?”

“Yeah. We talked about work and the future. Since he’s part of the Operations Headquarters, his perspective is different from the officers in the Air Squadron, which was quite interesting. I could tell you more details if you’re interested—it might be useful for you too.”

“Yes, I’d love to hear it. Please, go ahead.”

Kagura rose from the water and sat on the rock wall. The clean light filtering through the trees gently illuminated her bare upper body.

“When we left the diner and I invited him for a walk, Baltha had that usual sour look on his face, but he ended up coming with me anyway. He tried to justify it by saying he wanted to hear about the inner workings of the Voltec Air Squadron, but we ended up talking about all sorts of other things too. His constant disclaimers of "Don’t get the wrong idea" are basically his catchphrase at this point, and every time he said it, I had to fight back laughter…”

“Don’t misunderstand. I don’t care what happens to you. However, given my position, I come across information that you wouldn’t normally have access to. It’s not classified enough to be top secret, so sharing it doesn’t count as a breach.”

Balthazar stopped on the sandy beach, rattling off the words in one breath before glaring at Kagura. Kagura stopped as well, nodding back at him with a smile.

“Yes, yes, I understand. Since we’ve got this opportunity, let’s exchange meaningful information. So, about this sign of the decisive battle?”

When she asked, Balthazar crossed his arms dramatically over his chest and gazed up at the sky.

The bright May sunlight baked the white sand on the beach. There was no one else around, just the cries of the seagulls flying low in the sky and the sound of the waves washing against the shore. After a prolonged and somewhat theatrical silence, Balthazar turned his gaze back to Kagura, framed by the deep blue sea and sky.

“The Battle of Crossnodal was a victory for us. The Hydrabard ground forces have begun to retreat. The Urano forces’ strategy to land in the Northern Archipelago has crumbled. They attempted to destroy the new fleet at Air Hunt Island and capture Crossnodal with that momentum, but the Hydrabard ground forces were too weak. No matter how much Urano dominates the skies, if their employer’s ground forces are fragile, large-scale island invasions will be difficult.”

Kagura nodded. The news of Urano’s retreat from Crossnodal Island was fresh and had not yet been made public.

“A large island like Crossnodal, where naval bombardments can’t reach the centre, can still resist through its forests and mountains, even if they lose the air and sea battles.”

“Exactly. In a prolonged battle, since Crossnodal is close to our homeland and has calm seas, we can send reinforcements quickly and continuously. On the other hand, Urano and the Hydrabard Alliance, cut off by the Great Waterfall and far from their homeland, must maintain long supply lines. The longer the battle drags on, the more the tide turns in our favour.”

“So, for the time being, the Northern Archipelago is safe?”

“Defending the North Sea alone won’t win the war. We need to cross the Great Waterfall ourselves, land in the Southern Archipelago, and take Sierra Greed on Santos Island. The problem is Urano’s flying fortresses. Because of them, we can’t make a move in the southern seas.”

“The threat of the flying fortresses… we learned that lesson well at Air Hunt Island last year. They’re like fleets that can’t be sunk, no matter how much they’re attacked. Being told to capture one sounds pretty impossible…”

Of the twelve flying fortresses that Urano possessed, four had been dispatched to the Archipelago, including the “Balsinos” and “Kalkinos,” which had destroyed Air Hunt Island. Without a way to counter these “flying islands,” St Vault had repeatedly suffered humiliating defeats.

“Research on how to capture a flying fortress is progressing. The plan is to disable their airfields and anti-air facilities before landing. Unlike island assaults from the sea, we can’t use landing craft. The only option is to load airborne troops onto large hovercrafts capable of hovering and drop them down, but we’ll need a substantial number of hovercraft and airborne troops to subdue the vast surface of a flying fortress. Preparations for that are underway.”

“So, landing craft escorted by destroyers charging in on the surf isn’t possible. It’s going to be a brutal battle.”

“The hardest part will be securing a forward base. Surrounded by enemies, we’ll have to quickly establish a beachhead. This is where air superiority fighters—your Voltec Air Squadron—play a crucial role.”

“Yes. We’ve run several exercises for securing air superiority around the flying fortresses. The challenge, compared to regular island fortresses, is that the target is always moving, and we have to watch for attacks from underneath as well.”

“There’s no precedent for capturing a flying fortress, so we’re feeling our way through everything. But without neutralizing them, there’s no chance of victory in the Hydrabard War.”

A heavy feeling settled in Kagura’s chest. The twelve flying fortresses were what made Urano the rulers of the skies. As Balthazar said, unless they could neutralize the four floating over the Archipelago, the chaos there would never end.

Capturing one of these “flying islands,” each the size of Air Hunt Island, would require the mobilization of 20,000 to 30,000 troops. Just transporting that many soldiers onto the surface of a fortress from the sky would be a monumental task, not to mention the casualties that would likely exceed those of a typical amphibious landing operation.

“In any case, we won’t stay on the defensive forever. The destruction of Air Hunt delayed us significantly, but a major invasion operation should begin soon. Don’t let your guard down.”

“Thanks. I appreciate the valuable information. By the way, Baltha, I know this is sudden, but…”

“Hm?”

“How are you doing at work? I was a little worried that, knowing you, you might be somewhat of an outsider there.”

Balthazar frowned briefly before glaring at Kagura’s smiling face.

“I don’t need you to worry about that.”

“Sure, but I was thinking, since you’ve made such a big name for yourself, there might be some jealousy from others.”

“That’s nonsense. Let them be.”

Balthazar snorted and dismissed Kagura’s concerns, turning his face away.

During the summer of the operations, Balthazar had been the only one to predict and report on Operation Judeka in advance. None of the elite strategists at the Operations Headquarters had seen it coming, but a single intern had cracked the enemy’s plan in one night. This earned Balthazar even greater fame than he already had as the leading figure of the “Six of Eriadore.” His prediction was reported extensively in the media, with newspapers and magazines calling him the “future Chief of Staff of the St Vault Army.” Word of his sudden rise in status had reached Kagura, along with rumours that his colleagues at the Operations Headquarters were jealous and had begun harassing him.

“Is there jealousy? Among the men?”

“I couldn’t care less. It’s the work of lowly people. I only pity them.”

From the tone of his voice, Kagura could tell Balthazar was putting on a brave face. Despite his tough exterior, it was unlikely that Balthazar, a newly minted second lieutenant, wasn’t affected by the resentment and harassment from higher-ranking officers.

“You’re strong.”

Kagura dropped her usual smile and looked seriously at Balthazar’s profile.

“Strong or weak doesn’t matter. It doesn’t affect me.”

“…Yeah. That’s just like you.”

“What are you laughing at? What’s so amusing? You look creepy.”

Still frowning, Balthazar shot a sideways glance at Kagura’s smile.

Kagura took a small step toward him. She was now close enough that if she lowered her head, her forehead would touch his chest. Looking up at his grim face from up close, she spoke again, seriously.

“Maybe it wouldn’t hurt to lean on someone once in a while.”

“What are you talking about?”

“You’re not as cold as you think you are.”

“What did you eat? Have you been drinking? Go dunk your head in the sea and cool off.”

Balthazar, unusually flustered, turned away from her, facing the ocean to avoid her gaze.

The waves washed over their feet as two white birds flew off together toward the horizon.

With a playful tone, Kagura called out to Balthazar’s back.

“You’re interesting.”

Balthazar glanced back slightly, narrowing his eyes.

“Are you trying to compliment me or mock me? Which is it?”

“Who knows? I don’t even know myself. What do I want, I wonder?”

Smiling, Kagura shrugged, clasping her hands behind her back before turning on her heel.

“Well, I should be heading back. Thanks for the meaningful conversation today.”

Balthazar snorted again, shoved his hands into his pockets, and turned his eyes back inland.

“Don’t ever show up unannounced again.”

“Alright. I’ll make sure to contact you before I visit next time.”

“…You plan on coming again?”

Kagura tilted her head and made a small request.

“Is that a problem?”

“…You’re impossible. Do whatever you want.”

With those parting words, Balthazar turned his back on her and began walking home alone. Kagura, with a slight smile, jogged after him, following his retreating figure.

“…And so, it was really fun. I think Baltha enjoyed it just as much.”

Kagura finished her story and sank back into the hot water, up to her shoulders.

Feeling slightly overheated, Illia stood up, covering her front with a towel, and sat down on the rock wall.

“…I didn’t know you two were that close.”

“We’re not particularly close. But we’re classmates, and it feels odd to ignore someone who’s on the same island. Plus, teasing him is amusing.”

“Is that so… I thought Baltha was highly regarded at Operations Headquarters, given that he was the only one to foresee Operation Judeka beforehand.”

“He’s too talented and lacks charm. I’m sure the senior officers find him difficult to deal with. He always had a certain shadow about him, but over the past year, that shadow has grown even darker.”

Kagura laughed again.

“I’m sure Baltha was happy too. He never would’ve gone for a walk with anyone during our school days.”

“True. Next time, why don’t you join us, Illia? He’ll probably make a displeased face, but deep down, I’m sure he’ll appreciate it.”

“…Yes, if he agrees to my presence. Besides, it wouldn’t hurt to know more about future operations…”

Illia nodded, looking toward the trees.

—Kagura always seems so happy when talking about Baltha.

That thought crossed Illia’s mind. Kagura always lived with a bright and cheerful demeanour, but she seemed to shine the most when she was teasing Balthazar. Perhaps their personalities aligned more than one might expect.

“I’ve been talking too long. Shall we get out? Staying in too long might make us dizzy.”

“Yes, I feel much more relaxed.”

The two got out of the hot spring, dried off with towels, and put on their civilian clothes. Kagura called out through the bushes.

“We’re coming out now!”

“Okay! We’re already done here!” Reiner’s reply echoed back.

“You didn’t come peeking after all?”

“I thought about it, but since Kagura has a sword, I decided against it!”

“Too bad for you! I got a full view of Illia!”

“And I saw all of Kiyoaki!”

Kagura and Reiner shouted nonsensical banter back and forth across the bushes, while Illia, looking exasperated, watched from the side.

After reuniting with Kiyoaki and Reiner, the four of them rode their bikes down the mountain road and arrived at a seaside restaurant. The log cabin-style interior was bustling with soldiers on leave, reflecting the war economy of Mauregan Island. As Kiyoaki and the others entered the restaurant, naturally, the eyes of the non-commissioned officers and soldiers turned toward them. As members of the well-publicized “Six of Eriadore,” their faces and names were well known, even to soldiers from other units.

They were greeted and received casual remarks from those they passed. There was no strange prejudice or discrimination toward Kiyoaki and Kagura, who were from Akitsu, and the atmosphere remained warm and relaxed, without the stiff formality that would come if any officers were present. Kiyoaki and the others, dressed in civilian clothes, fit in well.

“The most popular one is Illia, I think.”

As they sat at a table for four, Kagura smiled and said this. Illia shook her head with a stern expression.

“I don’t understand.”

“They expect you to be the next ace, and besides, you’re beautiful.”

“…I don’t understand.”

Repeating the same words, Illia lowered her gaze, clearly uncomfortable. Despite her protests, the soldiers seemed happiest when speaking to Illia. Some even pulled out notebooks and asked for her autograph.

“They really admire you. Next year, when you’re a second lieutenant, you’ll be even more popular. With your skills, you’ll probably be leading a squadron soon. I wouldn’t mind being one of your subordinates.”

Reiner grinned, but Illia glared at him sharply.

“Reiner, you’ll also be leading subordinates next year. Joking about wanting to be your classmate’s subordinate is inappropriate.”

Reprimanded directly, Reiner chuckled awkwardly.

“Your popularity won’t last long. Once they see your scary side after three days, the troops will be terrified of you.”

“I don’t care. I’m not leading to be liked.”

After firmly declaring her stance, Illia glanced at the menu and nodded.

“I’ll have a cheeseburger.”

Kagura, intrigued, asked with interest.

“Reiner might be right. When you and Kiyoaki become second lieutenants, it won’t take long for you to be entrusted with leading a flight of three planes. Do you have any role models for a squadron leader?”

“A role model…? I’ve never really thought about it…”

Illia fell silent, deep in thought. Beside her, Kiyoaki lifted his gaze upward.

“I’d like to say my father, but he never talked about his experiences in battle… So, I admire someone like Master Akmed. He’s strong both as an individual pilot and as a squadron leader. The fact that he excels at both is amazing.”

“Yes, the abilities to engage in solo combat and to lead a squadron are quite different. Even if someone isn’t great at aerial combat, they can still be a great squadron leader and take down a powerful enemy by coordinating many planes.”

“Yes, I admire squadron leadership, but before that, I want to improve my solo combat skills. You can’t be a squadron leader unless you’re recognized for your aerial abilities first. I’ll think about leadership once I get there.”

“That’s fair. It may be a little early to focus on that. But it’s interesting. How about you, Illia? You seem to be thinking about it quite seriously.”

Illia had even crossed her arms, deeply considering her answer. Perhaps it was the first time she’d really thought about what kind of squadron leader she would become.

After a long pause, Illia finally spoke in a low voice.

“To be honest… I’ve never imagined myself as a squadron leader. I’ve always pursued individual strength. I believed that if I became strong, my squadron would naturally follow.”

“That’s a valid approach. I think it suits you, Illia.”

“…What about you, Kagura? What kind of squadron leader do you want to be?”

“I… hmm. I’m not as skilled in aerial combat as you two, so I’d like to be a leader who accurately understands the overall situation and can give precise commands… or at least, that’s what I hope for…”

Her voice trailed off, and Kagura gave a somewhat troubled smile.

“Honestly, I’m anxious. It’s been a month since I became a second lieutenant, and I wonder if I’ll truly be able to lead my subordinates properly when I’m entrusted with them in battle.”

Kagura’s words were uncharacteristically filled with doubt. Kiyoaki leaned forward, speaking with enthusiasm.

“Kagura, you’ll be fine! Sure, maybe things won’t go perfectly at first, but with experience, you’ll definitely become a great leader!”

“Thank you. Yes, I want to gain experience. But the thought that, in the process of becoming skilled at command, some of my subordinates might become casualties… That weight is terrifying.”

Her voice lacked confidence. It was a side of Kagura they had never seen before. The month spent as an officer had clearly affected even someone as carefree as Kagura.

The responsibility of leading others.

The difficulty of carrying the weight of others’ lives was something they had been taught since their days at the officer academy. It was the officer’s job to carry as many of their subordinates safely through the extremities of battle. They understood this intellectually, but only now, standing on the real battlefield, did they begin to grasp the true weight of that responsibility. Even Kagura, who usually carried herself with ease, seemed burdened.

In individual combat, a mistake could be paid for with one’s own life. But in squadron combat, the leader’s mistakes could cost the lives of all their subordinates. Kagura’s fears weren’t just her own; Kiyoaki knew that he, too, would have to face the same responsibility in a year’s time. Tightening his expression, he spoke with determination.

“Kagura, you’ve performed excellently so far, and you’re well-liked by the Voltec Air Squadron. Just be confident, and no one will complain.”

Illia nodded in agreement.

“There’s never been a perfect leader from the start. Even the greatest commanders in history built their reputations on the sacrifices of many subordinates. As an officer, it’s inevitable that some subordinates will be lost.”

“Yes, I understand that logically. But when I’ve spoken with the soldiers and non-commissioned officers, I’ve come to know them as people, and I realize that each one has family and friends depending on them. That weight isn’t something I could prepare for from a textbook.”

Kagura’s eyes dimmed. Kiyoaki and Illia exchanged concerned glances, unsure of how to respond.

After they placed their orders, Reiner, still grinning, spoke up.

“There’s no point in worrying about it too much. It’s war, people die, that’s normal. If we make mistakes, we officers die too. It’s the enemy killing our men, not us. It’s not our fault.”

Reiner’s casual statement seemed overly simplistic, and Kiyoaki was about to object, but upon reflection, he realized that, despite Reiner’s nonchalant attitude, his words might have been exactly what Kagura needed to hear.

Kagura smiled faintly.

“Yes… sorry, I didn’t mean to worry you. I know I just need to be resolute.”

“Kagura, you’re actually really kind, aren’t you? You always talk about slashing things, so you seem scary, but deep down, you’re kind.”

“I don’t always talk about slashing things… But this isn’t kindness, it’s just cowardice. Sorry to dampen the mood on a day off. Let’s talk about something fun. Oh, I was telling Illia earlier, I recently met up with Baltha…”

Kagura, in an effort to change the mood, forced a smile and started talking about her recent encounter with Balthazar. Kiyoaki couldn’t help but think that Kagura truly came alive when she was teasing Balthazar. And as they continued talking, a thought naturally took root in his mind.

—I’d like to be Kagura’s subordinate.

If he had to entrust his life on the battlefield, he’d want a leader like Kagura—someone compassionate, brave, and committed to doing her best. He realized it wasn’t just him. In the near future, everyone who served under Kagura would likely feel the same way.

After their enjoyable meal, night had fallen, and Kiyoaki and his companions returned to the barracks. They shared the room with eight other second lieutenants. It was quieter and more comfortable compared to the prefab huts where the non-commissioned pilots slept, which housed around twenty people per unit. There was no set bedtime, so they had the freedom to stay up late if they wanted.

Kiyoaki lay on his bed alone, reading the latest research book on aircraft. The book discussed a new fighter plane being developed by the St Vault Naval Air Force’s aviation technology division, which was equipped with a more powerful turboprop engine, an improvement over the traditional reciprocating engine. With a goal of reaching a top speed of 750 kilometres per hour, it was possible that, once deployed in combat, it could make an individual fighter capable of scattering entire enemy forces, like the legendary heroes of old.

—This war is on the verge of a major turning point.

Kiyoaki and Illia were stirred by Balthazar’s talk with Kagura about the “next big operation.” It had been a month since they had arrived at the frontlines, and they hadn’t yet experienced any significant battles, leaving them feeling restless. Imagining himself flying in real combat and bringing down Urano filled him with determination.

His gaze drifted to the bedside table.

Officers were allowed to display personal items on their bedside tables, and Kiyoaki had placed a photo frame there.

In the picture, the “Seven of Eriadore” were smiling.

It was taken in front of the auditorium at the Air Hunt Officer School when Kagura and Balthazar had graduated.

The great auditorium, which had since been destroyed in the bombing of Urano, still stood intact in the photo, with its orderly red brick walls preserved.

And—Mio was there too.

Sandwiched between Illia and Cecil, looking a bit uncomfortable, Mio stared slightly above the camera with an awkward posture.

Kiyoaki’s heart ached.

An unrelenting pain welled up from his heart and spread to every cell in his body.

“Mio…”

Seeing that no one was around, he quietly called her name, looking at the photo.

“Where are you now?”

Of course, there was no answer.

“What are you doing?”

But he couldn’t stop himself from speaking to her.

“I want to see you.”

His honest feelings spilled out in words.

It had been nearly eight months since their farewell.

"I’m a traitor. A spy for Urano."

Those words, spoken as they parted on the day Air Hunt Island was destroyed, echoed in his mind.

"I leaked all the information about this island to Urano."

"Oh, and by the way, my dad did the same for Messus Island. He leaked all the information to Urano, which is why Odessa Fortress was so easy to capture."

"Everything I ever told you was a lie."

Mio’s words were like blades, tearing Kiyoaki apart from the inside. Invisible wounds, thousands upon thousands, layered over each other, burning his thoughts.

—Messus Island’s invasion was orchestrated by Mio’s father?

—Then… the ones who killed my family… were Mio’s family?

That dark thought threatened to awaken feelings of hatred. The kind faces of his gentle parents and beloved sister flashed behind his eyelids, superimposed over the burning memory of Messus Island.

—No. It’s not true. Mio’s family wouldn’t do something like that.

But there was no way to confirm his doubts anymore. All Kiyoaki could do now was ask the unmoving photo of Mio the same unanswered questions over and over again.

If only he could see her.

If only he could talk to her.

Maybe then he could cleanse himself of this pain, this helplessness.

“I want to see you, Mio.”

Once again, Kiyoaki whispered the same prayer he had uttered thousands of times before. An overwhelming sense of emptiness filled every cell in his body, threatening to drag him into a state of self-destruction.

"Mission complete. I’m heading back to Pleiades."

If her final words were true, Mio should be in Pleiades.

That meant if he continued chasing Urano, eventually capturing Pleiades, he might be able to see her again.

It was a small fragment of hope. But it was all he had.

“We’ll meet again. We will… I’m sure of it.”

Kiyoaki muttered to himself, trying to lift his spirits, as he gazed out the window at the night sky. Somewhere in this vast sky, Mio was out there, still working for Urano, and the thought of it made his heart burn with a pain that was almost unbearable.

Toaru Hikuushi e no Seiyaku:V3Part6

2025-12-01T03:22:25Z

QCore:

Part 23 (Part 6 of Volume 3)

Air Hunt Island was completely covered by a swarm of Idra.

Like a mantis, the sinister limbs formed a battle formation, rampaging through the skies over the island as if it were their own territory, obscuring the remnants of the morning glow.

From several spots on the surface, flames began to rise. The fire, scorching the edges of the dawn, gradually expanded its area, intertwining with one another, eventually becoming a raging inferno on the ground.

The Urano Air Force, which suddenly attacked Air Hunt Island, consisted of a massive formation of two hundred sixty aircraft. Fighters, bombers, attack aircraft, and over thirty large bombers that had taken off from an airfield formed one squadron, with eight squadrons attacking the newly formed fleet and defensive facilities on the island—such as the airfield and anti-aircraft gun positions—according to their operational plans. Thanks to information provided by the infiltrator Hachidori, the positions of the island's defences were completely known to Urano, allowing the attackers to meticulously arrange their operations before reaching the combat area.

The third squadron responsible for attacking the new fleet included torpedo bombers capable of submerged navigation in shallow waters and large bombers equipped with timed explosives for the airfield assault. Another squadron, tasked with destroying bridges, communication lines, radar, and other facilities, comprised precision bombing dive bombers. Following an orderly process like an assembly line, the Urano Air Force methodically incapacitated Air Hunt Island.

On the other hand, the defensive force, the St Vault Army, was unable to recover from the chaos and was subjected to one-sided attacks for an hour after the combat began.

While one might expect such a situation at the front lines of islands like Crossnodal or Mauregan, no one ever dreamed that two flying fortresses would approach the relay base of Air Hunt Island. Even if the enemy air force were to mount a sudden attack, it was believed that inflicting damage on the newly stationed fleet in Sanjiru Bay, with its shallow waters, would be impossible.

Not just the depth of the water. The newly stationed air battleships and air carriers were protected by underwater defence nets. Even if the enemy used new torpedoes, they were supposed to get tangled in the specially laid underwater nets and couldn't possibly hit the hull—so it was thought.

However, the oxygen torpedoes launched by the Urano attack squadron pierced through without encountering any obstacles, embedding themselves into the sides of the new air battleships. The two super-dreadnought battleships, symbols of hope for the citizens of the St Vault Empire and considered trump cards in the Hydrabard campaign, were unexpectedly struck by over twenty oxygen torpedoes each, turning them into mere debris without ever participating in a naval battle.

The defence nets had been pre-emptively compromised by something that had submerged underwater. The nets that were supposed to envelop the torpedoes had been torn apart, resulting in a one-sided torpedo assault. By the time the commander of the Air Hunt Island garrison considered the existence of infiltrators, not a single warship remained afloat in Sanjiru Bay.

It wasn't just the naval base. The airfield and anti-aircraft gun positions were also unilaterally destroyed. The eight squadrons of Urano unleashed all their bombs and torpedoes onto Air Hunt Island without facing any counterattacks, returning leisurely to their flying fortresses to prepare for a second assault.

The next attack targets were public facilities such as fuel depots, military supply depots, waterworks, and residential areas. If these were destroyed, Air Hunt Island would be left virtually defenceless. If an invasion occurred, the entire population would likely be slaughtered without any means of resistance.

To retaliate, the air force had to be able to launch fighter planes from the airfield. The St Vault Army’s engineering team worked desperately to repair the runways, which had been set ablaze and torn apart by the initial bombing, using bulldozers to fill the gaps as the Urano Air Force prepared for their second attack.

The day before had been a typhoon, so the military had been on leave; however, upon receiving a sudden attack, soldiers returned one by one to their posts. Yet, due to the destruction of roads and bridges, many soldiers were unable to return. The commander of the airfield’s air unit hurriedly assigned aircraft to the returning pilots, launching them in order as they became ready. However, the number of available planes was insufficient. Hoping that as many pilots as possible would arrive at the airfield as soon as possible, the commander anxiously gazed at the sky. Soon, the Urano second attack squadron would arrive, targeting civilian facilities. If they couldn't retaliate here, many civilians would become casualties. They had to somehow strike back and prevent further damage...

As the commander prayed like this, two officer candidates arrived on motorcycles. They were the pilots from the "Seven of Eriadore," well-known to the commander. They had overcome hardships to come and fight, even as students.

The commander hesitated. They were still students. He couldn't believe they could be of any use in actual combat.

However, these two were descendants of the two legendary "Kings of the Skies." If they worked together, perhaps they could down at least one enemy aircraft. If that happened, there would at least be a record of them having "bravely attempted a counterattack." It wouldn't be a mere observation; they too fought with all their might. That would be an excuse to present to the media and the public. Even if both of them died, they could be honoured as heroes who fought bravely, stirring the public's anger and desire for revenge. Even a death in a reckless battle could serve the nation if framed correctly.

"I understand your feelings well. I hereby assign you a mission to head directly to the airfield. Go."

After this thought process, the air unit commander gave the two officer candidates permission to board the fighter planes with a stern expression.

"Yes…!" "Thank you very much!"

The two of them brightened up with enthusiasm, sprinting towards their assigned fighters with all their might.

Ideally, they would shoot down some enemies.

But if they died, they would be honoured as heroes.

Watching their backs, the commander whispered in his heart.

"It was surprisingly easy to get permission…!"

As they ran towards the line beside the runway, Kiyoaki called out to Illia, who was beside him.

"Yeah. They probably don't have enough pilots. The roads and bridges have been destroyed, and the soldiers on leave can't return."

Illia replied, looking straight ahead while confirming the mechanics pulling the fighter planes out from underground shelters. All the aircraft parked in the surface hangars had been destroyed in the initial attack, but the planes stored underground had survived. Kiyoaki and Illia were entrusted with these precious surviving fighters.

The maintenance chief, having received a call from the command centre, brought out the polished Beowulf fighter right before them.

"Get out immediately! If they return, you won’t be able to take off!"

Kiyoaki expressed his gratitude to the frantic maintenance chief and jumped onto the wing. In the St Vault Air Force, take-offs under aerial attack are strictly forbidden. During take-off, aircraft are slow, unable to evade bullets or shells, and are left exposed with their upper surfaces vulnerable. They wanted to get as many fighters airborne as possible before the take-off ban. The anxiety in the faces of the maintenance chief and all the mechanics, smeared with oil, conveyed that prayer. They, too, had families on this island and could not bear to witness further destruction.

"Yes. I will do my utmost. I will fly at the risk of my life."

Having made that promise, Kiyoaki exchanged glances with Illia.

Illia tightened her expression and nodded.

"Let’s go. It’s time to demonstrate the skills we’ve honed until today."

At that moment, Illia appeared to waver slightly, as if obscured. A sense of foreboding stirred deep within his chest.

"Yeah. But Illia, don’t be reckless."

"You be careful too."

"…Yeah. Let’s come back alive."

Kiyoaki smiled. He felt anxious if he didn’t. Illia slightly relaxed her cheeks, showing a calm expression she had recently begun to wear occasionally.

"When it's over, let’s meet on the ground again."

"…Yeah. We’ll meet again on the ground, Illia."

Since they would return and meet on the ground, there was no need for overly grand farewells. Shaking off the bad premonitions, he jumped onto the wing and climbed into the cockpit. He confirmed Illia boarding the aircraft behind him. After receiving the frequency from the maintenance chief, he checked the communication with Illia.

"Illia, can you hear me?"

As he called into the microphone, a voice responded from the speaker on the instrument panel.

"I hear you. Sensitivity is good."

"Okay. After take-off, we will immediately take cover at four thousand five hundred meters above the airfield."

"Understood. Four thousand five hundred."

After a brief discussion, Kiyoaki connected the aircraft's control surfaces directly to the engine axis and began to spin the propeller.

The sturdy beating of the Beowulf reverberated through his body. It was on another level compared to the training aircraft, Gray Fox. Although he felt anxious about heading into battle with a plane he hadn’t fully mastered, there was no time for luxury.

──I fight for Air Hunt Island.

──Even if it costs me my life.

With that vow deeply etched in his heart, he received the signal from the ground crew and began his take-off run.

This was a real fighter plane. The acceleration was different. He quickly reached take-off speed, pulling back on the control stick.

The propeller roared violently, sending a fierce wind over the runway.

Kiyoaki could not suppress the tremors of a warrior. This strength was a world apart from that of a training aircraft. He was now about to engage in a real aerial battle in a genuine fighter plane.

──Don’t get carried away. Your life is at stake. The fate of this island is at stake too.

──Fight, shoot down the enemy, and return alive.

──That is the mission of one entrusted with a fighter plane.

As Kiyoaki reminded himself, he fixed his gaze on the distant enemy airships floating aloof in the sky.

──I will shoot down those enemies.

In a moment, like hornets emerging from their nest, a tremendous number of bright spots were unleashed from the upper surfaces of the flying fortress.

To deliver a finishing blow to Air Hunt Island, the second attack squadron was aiming its devilish beak directly at them. Leading the charge was a group of three Type 3 Idra fighters.

Dozens of friendly Beowulf fighters, which had taken off before Kiyoaki, were circling at an altitude of five thousand meters above the airfield to defend it, but they were clearly outmatched.

The enemy was nearly ten times greater. The fleet in Sanjiru Bay had been completely wiped out, and the anti-aircraft positions had been neutralized. The defeat in the air was all but assured even before the battle began.

But he would do his best. And return alive. For that, he must cast aside personal pride.

Noticing Illia rising from below and beginning to circle at the same altitude as Kiyoaki, he picked up the radio microphone.

“Illia, let’s team up. You lead, and I’ll follow.”

A response came immediately from the speaker.

“If that’s what you want, I welcome it.”

“Yeah. I think you’re better suited to take down the enemy.”

“You’re being quite straightforward.”

“I want to live and go back. My pride doesn’t matter.”

“...Understood. Then let’s do it that way.”

With Illia’s agreement, Kiyoaki positioned himself at her right diagonal rear. While Illia aimed at enemy aircraft, it would be Kiyoaki’s role to protect her from other enemy planes. It was a modest task, but by doing this, they could more easily achieve results.

“...This is my first real battle with a fighter plane. Don’t take unnecessary risks. If you feel danger, choose to descend immediately.”

Illia, unusually, threw out such advice. Kiyoaki replied in kind.

“You too, Illia. Let’s protect our lives over pride. The opponent is a professional, and we are students.”

Though it echoed Cecil's earlier words, Kiyoaki felt an unsettling premonition. He couldn’t predict how Illia, with her strong sense of justice, would react when fighting in a real battlefield.

“...I know. Let’s both be careful not to get too heated.”

Once again, Illia accepted Kiyoaki's advice unusually well.

She was surely anxious as well. Last summer, she had experienced actual combat aboard the Eriadore airship, but this time it was a genuine dogfight between fighter planes. The ammunition loaded into the machine guns wasn’t non-lethal special rounds but real armour-piercing, incendiary, tracer, and explosive rounds—bullets designed to destroy both aircraft and human bodies. It was terrifying, but if she hesitated when pulling the trigger, it would mean her own death. Kiyoaki firmly reminded himself of this as he glared at the horizon beyond the windscreen.

The Urano forces charged towards them, seemingly ecstatic. They were evidently thrilled that the St Vault fighters had finally taken off. The pilots’ exhilaration was palpable from the silhouette of their aircraft, typical of the Urano.

“Stay calm. Take them out one by one.”

“Yeah. Keep an eye on our surroundings. If it looks dangerous, we’ll escape.”

Exchanging their plans over the speaker, Kiyoaki and Illia waited tensely for the enemy’s approach.

The key was to protect the airspace above the airfield.

As long as they controlled this airspace, their allies’ aircraft could take off. If they regained air superiority, the enemy would likely give up on further destruction.

The distance to the enemy fighter group closed to under six thousand meters. The three Type 3 Idra’s wings loomed closer and closer. Having gained altitude first, they would be able to attack from a higher position than the enemy.

Sweat began to gather on Kiyoaki’s palms gripping the control stick. Honestly, it would be a lie to say he wasn’t scared. Yet, swallowing his anxiety and fear, he thought of the people he had to protect.

The enemy formation reached the combat airspace. The cockpit reflected sunlight, revealing the shape of the upper surface of the aircraft.

A clear and resolute voice from Illia echoed into the cockpit.

“Let’s go!”

With her command, Illia dove towards the enemy aircraft like a hawk.

“Yeah, let’s go!”

Kiyoaki guarded her rear.

──Live and return.

──With Illia.

Kiyoaki and Illia united their hearts and began their descent towards the group of Idra.

“Cecil, stay here.”

On the way to the police station, Reiner stopped the bike and said this while looking back at the passenger seat.

Still straddling the seat, Cecil looked at Reiner with a puzzled expression. They were in a desolate suburb, about two kilometres from the city centre. A distant fire could be seen, but since they were in an empty area, it seemed unlikely that there would be any bombardment.

“What?”

“It’s a shelter. You just need to stay here.”

Reiner gestured toward the side of the road with his chin, indicating the entrance of an underground bunker, partially overgrown with grass. It was an emergency shelter for local residents.

“But I’m going to pick up Mio.”

“I’ll bring her back. If you’re with me, I won’t be able to take Mio home. Just stay here for a while.”

“Eh... But…”

Cecil puffed up her cheeks in dissatisfaction, but Reiner wouldn’t budge.

“I can’t carry three people. You understand, right? I’ll be back with Mio soon. The air raid is starting any minute, so just stay put.”

“But at least to the police station…”

“You won’t be able to do anything even if you go. It’ll just complicate the return trip. Just stay here.”

After some back-and-forth, Cecil reluctantly got off the bike and followed Reiner’s instructions.

“Come back soon, okay? I’m worried about Mio.”

“I know. So stay put until the air raid is over.”

Waving dismissively, Reiner left Cecil behind and revved up the bike towards the police station.

Above them, the Idra fighters of the air superiority squad were engaged in combat with the Beowulf interceptors. The Urano second attack unit would be arriving shortly after the air superiority squad. The attack on public facilities would begin soon.

“Now, what to do? Reiner asked Hachidori.”

While driving, Reiner consulted his inner self.

──Change.

A response came immediately.

“Got it.”

Reiner Beck closed his eyes as he sped down the road.

Opening his eyes, Hachidori spat out.

“Foolish man.”

Gripping the throttle, the engine roared to life, and Hachidori sped down the public road at nearly four times the legal speed.

“It’s absurd to turn an amateur into an operative.”

This was a grievance directed at Chief Zenon. However, if he didn’t resolve this troublesome situation, his own life would be in danger. If Mio was captured, she wouldn’t withstand interrogation at all. After an hour of torture, she would undoubtedly spill the beans about Reiner Beck’s true identity.

“Having to clean up after the Chief’s little games...!”

Muttering curses, Hachidori quickly arrived in front of the military police station.

It wasn’t a particularly grand facility. It stood as a modest two-story mixed-use building. Hachidori parked the bike haphazardly in front of the police station and boldly entered through the front.

The military police had rushed out to handle the air raid, leaving the station quiet. Ignoring the reception, Hachidori headed for the stairs.

“Hey, who are you...?”

One of the military police, noticing the uninvited visitor, approached.

Hachidori grabbed the soldier’s shoulder, pushed him down, and delivered a palm strike to his chin, breaking his neck.
[[File:Hachidori.png|thumb]]
Drawing the soldier's pistol from his fallen body, Hachidori descended the stairs.

The sound of a thunderous explosion resonated from outside. It seemed the bombing of the city had begun. This chaos was fortunate; the sounds of explosions outside would help cover up some noise.

Hachidori walked down the hallway as if he were familiar with the garden. He had already researched the layout of the station in case other operatives were captured. Just then, new military police appeared from below.

"Hey, you can’t go past here...!?"

Before the words could finish, Hachidori aimed at the officer’s forehead and pulled the trigger.

The gunshot echoed in the hallway. Without hesitation, Hachidori stepped over the military police officer's corpse and descended to the second underground level. Ahead in the narrow corridor, three surprised police officers were standing, their expressions one of shock.

"Wha- an enemy...!?"

"It’s Urano, they've come to retrieve their comrade!!"

The police officers were the same ones who had captured Mio at the observation tower. They quickly drew their pistols, aiming at Hachidori.

Hachidori’s expression didn’t change. He maintained a calm gaze on the police officers, moving silently down the corridor and closing the distance to his targets.

"No matter how hard you try, I don’t think it will do any good."

The captain of the military police looked down at Mio, who was bound to a chair.

"Your identity is already exposed. Our country’s special forces aren’t fools. Did you not realize that your family has been kept under surveillance?"

In the small interrogation room, it was just the captain and Mio. Her arms were restrained behind her back, shackled to the pipe chair. The captain, in his late forties, leaned in closer to Mio with an amused expression.

Mio kept her head down, not looking up.

"This island has fallen into chaos. It’s all thanks to you. Outside, because of you, many soldiers have died."

The captain reached toward Mio’s chin, lifting her face as if raising a wine glass.

"You’re quite a girl. You’ve betrayed your dear friends and leaked information about this island to Urano. Now, you’re leading many people to their deaths. I’m impressed that you can remain so calm with such a cute face."

Mio’s eyes were lifeless. The captain’s thumb traced her lips, but there was no sign of her expression changing. Even when faced with degrading words, she neither showed anger nor resistance—she was like a doll.

The captain plunged his fingers into Mio’s hair, roughly grabbing it and forcing her to look up.

He brought his face close, almost touching her lips, and threatened her.

"Are you trying to play indifferent? There are countless ways to make you speak. If you continue to be so uncooperative, it won’t end well for you."

The captain’s face clearly showed a hint of sadism, but Mio remained unmoving in response. Stripped of her vitality, she was now presented before a beast.

The captain took a deep breath through his nose and suddenly tore at Mio’s clothing.

"……!?"

Finally, a slight tremor returned to Mio’s eyes.

Without a word, the captain revealed more of Mio’s skin with his coarse hands.

"Stop...!!"

Instinctively, Mio tried to escape from his grasp. However, her arms were restrained behind her back, shackled to the chair, leaving her unable to flee.

The foul breath was blown close to her face. Those filthy hands began to impose humiliation upon her.

Mio screamed. Struggling and cursing, she begged him to stop, finally calling out the name of her beloved in a tearful voice.

"Kiyoaki…!!"

The moment she spoke that name, the captain was violently thrown sideways, crashing against the wall and collapsing helplessly. Crimson liquid dripped from his mouth, spreading out beneath him.

"……!?"

Unbeknownst to them, a boy had entered the room and was looking at the captain’s lifeless body with disinterest.

Hachidori carelessly pulled the keys from the captain's pocket and inserted one into the handcuff’s lock, freeing Mio.

"You were lucky it didn’t end worse, you fool."

The cold words were directed not at the captain, but at Mio.

Mio tumbled off the chair, bracing herself with one hand on the floor as she adjusted her dishevelled clothing.

"Ugh… ugh…"

A sob escaped her lips. She wiped her tears with her fingers, glared at the captain's corpse, then put her hand to her mouth to suppress her nausea.

Hachidori grabbed her collar roughly, forcing her to stand.

"We're leaving. Your place is no longer in this country. We’re escaping this island."

He began to drag her out of the interrogation room. Mio managed to brace her legs, looking up at Hachidori.

"What about Dad and Mum… my siblings? What happened to them?"

"How would I know? Go check for yourself. If you believe their words, they’re probably captured."

"That can’t be… this is…"

"Such things happen. Consider the trouble you’ve caused me. Come on, walk quickly before the military police return. If you get caught again, it will be even worse."

Threatened, Mio hurriedly followed Hachidori out into the corridor. Her mind was frozen, but she could no longer tolerate the treatment she had just received. For now, it seemed best to obey Hachidori. He was a terrible person, but at least he wouldn’t do what the captain had just done.

The corridor was in a horrifying state.

"Hah…"

Three police officers lay piled on top of each other. Hachidori must have done this during his infiltration. One body lay on the stairs, and another was sprawled at the entrance of the police station.

"Did you… do this?"

"Thanks to you, I have extra work to do. Just disappear. Get off this island."

Hachidori spat this out as he stepped outside, tossing a helmet at Mio and gesturing for her to sit on the back of the bike.

"Where… are we going?"

Following his instructions, Mio sat down behind Hachidori and gripped the tandem handlebars.

Hachidori started the bike without answering. It smoothly accelerated, weaving through the damaged road from the bombings.

In the sky, a battle was unfolding. The Idra and Beowulf were engaged in fierce combat, the propellers roaring. Occasionally, aircraft would fall with long black trails behind them, and distant explosions echoed. Hachidori cut through the road, undeterred by the thick clouds of smoke and dust rising from the burning ground.

"Is everyone safe? What about Kiyoaki? Illia and Cecil?"

"Be quiet. You have no right to worry about them. Right now, we need to head to the extraction point as fast as possible."

"…Huh?"

"You are escaping this island. Go to Pleiades. Your new role awaits you there."

"…Huh?"

Mio couldn’t comprehend what Hachidori was saying.

—The floating city of Pleiades.

It was the name of the capital of Urano. According to the mythology of Urano, it was said to be a giant city in the sky that would someday rule this world.

"Am I going to Pleiades?"

"That's right. There’s no choice."

With an unyielding tone, Hachidori declared this and opened the throttle.

Cutting through the thick, blue-gray haze, Hachidori raced toward the communication point with the Urano invasion force. In preparation for emergencies, he had previously marked points on the map where they could contact the invading troops. If they could get there, Mio would be handed over to the main force of Urano.

── Those who know my true identity will no longer be on this island.

Finally, he could rid himself of this nuisance. Hachidori concealed a slight sense of relief deep within his chest as he navigated the damaged road, skilfully avoiding bumps and obstacles, aiming for the Cross Cape.

"Does that mean… I won't see everyone again?"

Mio asked from the backseat.

Of course. Hachidori thought, but he ignored her.

"Does that mean this is goodbye to everyone?"

Mio asked again in a sorrowful tone. Hachidori remained silent.

── Such naivety.

He mentally spat this out, accelerating to shake off Mio's wishes──.

Flames danced through the air like writhing dragons.

What had once been a dawn that could be mistaken for the heavens had now transformed into a hellish scene of blood, smoke, and explosions.

The chaotic machines of Urano and St Vault continued to spit out streams of gunfire like a murky river. The discordant sounds of propellers and lift devices intertwined, creating a symphonic cacophony of aerial warfare, pregnant with thousands of fragments.

The large Urano bomber "Gorgona," which aimed to incinerate the city of Air Hunt Island, was met by a Beowulf fighter that dove in, showering it with concentrated gunfire while slipping through a ferocious curtain of anti-aircraft fire. But the Gorgona did not fall. It dispersed rounds of armour-piercing shells from its top and bottom like a porcupine, pushing the Beowulf away instead. The injured St Vault pilot, determined to protect the city, made a suicidal charge toward the Gorgona, and the two aircraft collided in a fiery explosion as they plummeted to the ground.

The surviving anti-aircraft batteries fired at the Gorgona as it approached from high altitude with all their might. Anti-aircraft fire, adjusted for a height of six thousand meters, erupted as if a protective flame curtain were being drawn over all of Air Hunt Island. The two Gorgonas bombers that had entered were hit, and the bombs they carried exploded within the aircraft, creating a horrific bloom of flames that added new colours to the cruel sky.

The Idra rushed into the island’s depths to protect Gorgona, raining machine gun fire on the anti-aircraft gunners. However, the gunners continued to aim at the high-flying Gorgona, determined to defend their island, even as they were shot at by the Idra. Despite their comrades being shattered beside them, the soldiers gritted their teeth and focused solely on targeting the enemy bombers.

We must protect this island.

That was the collective sentiment of all St Vault soldiers.

Just this morning, they had enjoyed a peaceful daily life with their families and friends. They could not stand by and watch as their homeland was burned and trampled. Each soldier stood their ground against the mighty forces of Urano, risking their lives.

The counterattack against the second wave of Urano forces was brutal beyond measure. The airfields and anti-aircraft batteries that were supposed to have been neutralized in the first assault were quickly restored by Urano. The fighters taking off from there, along with the surviving anti-aircraft guns, confronted the overwhelming enemy with all their might.

Meanwhile, the St Vault naval fleet, which had been stationed at a nearby island, rushed to the combat zone. United in their training, the newly formed fleet navigated at maximum speed, seeking revenge for their fallen comrades.

They had suffered catastrophic damage. But they could still fight.

Kiyoaki and Illia, battling in the sky, shared the same prayer as every St Vault soldier.

"I'll shoot you down...!!"

The power of the Beowulf was incomparable to the training aircraft Gray Fox. If Gray Fox was a donkey, Beowulf was a wild horse. Undeterred by the G-forces pressing down on him, Kiyoaki concentrated fully, fixing his bloodshot eyes on the target.

Smoke, sparks, and debris from the aircraft hit the windscreen like hail, streaming past behind. It felt like navigating a rapid river filled with floating debris, pursuing through the air.

Visibility was poor. The colour of the sky was obscured. Relying solely on the barely visible wings of the Type 3 Idra, Kiyoaki kept his pursuit steady.

"Illia, I've got your back...!!"

"Do it...!!"

Their voices, exchanged over the speaker, were already parched. Ahead of Kiyoaki's target was Illia. And beyond her was another enemy aircraft. The four aircraft—two enemies and two allies—formed a line, engaged in a fierce survival race.

Illia, trying to take down the lead enemy aircraft, was left vulnerable. Kiyoaki aimed at the enemy aircraft that was poised to take advantage of her opening from behind. If Kiyoaki missed his shot, it would mean Illia’s death.

However, the enemy was also weary. After two assaults today, Kiyoaki and Illia had the advantage in stamina. As time passed, the distance between them shrank, and the enemy aircraft grew larger in Kiyoaki's sights.

Kiyoaki placed his finger on the trigger. The horizontal distance was less than a hundred meters. Eighty, seventy, sixty. Closing in to a critical distance.

At that moment, despite all his self-discipline.

──If I pull the trigger, that person will die.

Such thoughts exploded in Kiyoaki’s mind.

This wasn’t a mock battle. It was real air combat. He had never killed anyone.

──Is it right for me to kill?

──That person has a family. They might have a lover, friends, or children.

──Is it okay for me to kill that person?

His finger trembled. His teeth chattered.

But.

──I must shoot.

──For the sake of my loved ones.

The enemy aircraft, framed in his sights, was covered with the irreplaceable smiles of two people.

This was a smile that must be protected, even at the cost of his own life.

──Mio and Illia.

Their smiles supported Kiyoaki from behind.

For a moment, he was bewildered by his own thoughts, but then Kiyoaki pulled the trigger.

There was no hesitation. Even as debris from the exploded enemy aircraft struck the windscreen, Kiyoaki continued to squeeze the trigger.

"I shot it down!!"

Illia's voice came through the speaker.

She too had apparently taken down her target.

Together, they broke through the debris of the enemy aircraft, ascending. Almost simultaneously, they had both downed their targets. It was a remarkable achievement for their first battle.

Like a pair of birds aiming for the heights of the sky, Kiyoaki and Illia danced side by side.

"I also took down one enemy aircraft!!"

Kiyoaki could hardly contain his excitement.

He was simply happy. He felt no guilt for taking a life; only the joy of having protected his loved ones remained.

"Don't get too excited, there are still enemies out there...!!"

"I know, stay calm, don’t rush...!"

But they quickly regained their composure, reminding each other. Their words were more for the other’s sake than for their own survival.

For the first time in battle, Kiyoaki realized that his bond with Illia was stronger than he had thought. She was someone he could not afford to lose.

──I will protect Illia.

Strengthening that resolve, Kiyoaki scanned the surrounding airspace. He had learned from Akmed that to survive in the battlefield, the first priority was to spot the enemy before they spotted you.

Current altitude: five thousand five hundred meters.

Below, Air Hunt Island was in flames. At the naval port, a new battleship was broken in two, and a new aircraft carrier was grounded, belching black smoke. The bombardment of the city seemed to have begun as well, and fires were erupting in familiar streets, despite the desperate defence. He recognized the area near the movie theatre where he had gone on his first date with Mio. A place filled with memories was being destroyed helplessly...

"…Damn it!! Damn it…!!"

All he could do was curse. An overwhelming hatred for Urano surged within him.

"Enemy fighter formation to the lower right!! Aim for the lead aircraft!!"

Illia's calm voice reached him through the speaker. Looking in the direction indicated, he saw a formation of seven Idra fighters advancing at an altitude of about four thousand five hundred meters. From behind, a new squadron of Gorgona bombers was coming in. Illia was targeting the leader of the air superiority fighter squad.

"Got it, be careful...!"

"I’ll go for a hit-and-run, don’t fall behind!!"

"Understood, let’s go!"

Illia turned sharply like a hawk and dove straight down. Kiyoaki followed closely. The top surface of the enemy leader's aircraft came into view──.

The commander of the Urano air superiority fighter squadron, Karnasion, sensed a slight discomfort above him. It was the murderous intent of an enemy pilot, detectable only by those favoured by the sky.

Instinctively, he turned his gaze toward the eastern sky, right next to the sun. Without focusing directly on the sun, he consciously shifted his point of focus away from it to recognize the approaching enemy aircraft.

There was nothing there.

Next, he looked straight up. Two Beowulf fighters were descending at a forty-two-degree angle. They didn’t seem to be the cunning enemies who would hide behind the sun.

──Newbies.

Karnasion’s heart swelled with joy.

He longed to torment inexperienced foes, rob them of their flying capabilities, and witness their expressions of despair as they faced death.

"Uheh...!!"

Letting out a pleased sound, Karnasion pushed down on the control stick.

He would feign escape. The enemy should get cocky and chase after him.

──I will send them to hell.

Behind the bandages wrapped around his face, the scorched smile of the "King of the Skies" spread wide.

Suddenly, the lead aircraft spun around. It seemed to have noticed Karnasion’s aggressive approach. It hastily turned to flee toward the sea, but it was clear from its erratic movements that it was taken by surprise. He could not let this opportunity slip away. Kiyoaki shouted into the mic.

"I can take it, Illia...!!"

"I know, cover me from behind...!!"

Kiyoaki shifted his focus to the enemy aircraft behind. They seemed to have noticed Illia and were trying to swarm her. Without hesitation, he opened fire with his machine gun. Three friendly fighters, realizing the danger posed by the Idra, charged in at high speed from the side. Chaos erupted as dozens of friend and foe became entangled in the melee.

"Ugh...!!"

Kiyoaki was experiencing aerial combat for the first time, surrounded by a chaotic mix of allies and enemies.

He couldn't tell which aircraft was Illia's.

If she had her nose art on, he would have recognized her, but students were not allowed such privileges.

"Illia, I can't see you!!"

He called out over the mic. The noise from the speaker grew intense. The communication lines were all mixed up with both friendly and enemy transmissions. The barely audible response came through:

"…Kar…sion!!"

The interference was terrible, making it hard to make out what was being said. It seemed she was shouting something, but he couldn’t grasp it at all.

Kiyoaki panicked, searching the surroundings for Illia. All he saw were the Idra, lurking and waiting for an opening.

As he focused on searching, one enemy aircraft suddenly positioned itself directly behind him from the upper right.

"Dammit…!!"

By the time he realized his mistake, it was too late. Kiyoaki had found himself on the receiving end of the chase.

──If this continues, I will be shot down.

"Illia, I'm sorry, I’ll definitely find you…!!"

He threw out an apology into the speaker, but there was no response.

Bullets spewed from the enemy aircraft, whizzing past the windscreen. The aircraft rattled loudly, indicating that it had taken hits.

──I can't die here.

Kiyoaki steeled himself, prepared to confront this enemy.

One of them would end their life here today, leaving sorrow and despair for those who remained.

"I'm coming for you, Urano…!!"

Gathering all his courage, Kiyoaki executed a half-roll, flipping the world upside down and diving toward the ground──.

At that moment, the fleeing enemy aircraft twisted to dive further, and the nose art painted on its front became etched in Illia’s mind.

──A black panther.

In that instant, every hair on Illia’s body stood on end.

"Karnasion!!"

The King of the Skies was now fleeing with all its might right before her eyes.

Words her father had instilled in her since childhood burned into Illia's brain.

"I fly to become the King of the Skies."

Illia had been pursuing this distant goal, sacrificing any decent treatment as a girl and any true happiness as a human since the moment she was born.

Now, that goal stood right in front of her.

She was in a fighter plane, soaring through the same sky.

──Everything is for this moment.

Illia's eyes transformed into those of a fierce predator. A year ago, when she met Karnasion, she was piloting a large airship. The conditions had not allowed for aerial combat then. But this time, she was gripping the controls of a fighter plane. In this sky, she could fight under the same conditions.

"Don't run away, fight!!"

She shouted as she chased after him at full speed.

Her calmness had completely vanished. She was only filled with excitement.

If a pilot lost their composure in aerial combat, it meant death.

Her father, Karsten, had drilled this into her. It was common knowledge among pilots worldwide.

Yet, the figure of Karnasion fleeing beyond the obstruction and windscreen burned through Illia’s thoughts.

──If I shoot down that enemy, I will become the King of the Skies.

──Father will recognize me.

──He will praise me.

"Fight, Karnasion!!"

She roared.

Karnasion, fleeing at full speed, had almost forcibly pulled his nose up.

However, perhaps due to his panic, he made a mistake in his manoeuvre, executing a strange roll at an awkward angle.

If she continued this chase, she would catch up.

──I can shoot down Karnasion.

Illia followed that roll without hesitation.

Karnasion was about to reach the top of the roll, but it was clear that her positioning was advantageous.

Illia peered through the sights.

Karnasion’s silhouette was already extending beyond the crosshairs.

It was a distance that even a novice could hit without missing.

──I’ve won...!

As she felt goosebumps all over her body and prepared to pull the trigger in that moment──.

"I thought I had won until the top of the roll. Your wings were sticking out of my sights."

Kiyoaki’s voice echoed in the back of her mind.

"But after that... you froze in mid-air. Just for a moment."

His words shifted to an incomprehensible murmur.

──It’s a trap.

In that instant, Illia kicked the footbar with all her might.

Her aircraft was flung away from the trajectory of the roll.

A tremendous force pressed down on her body.

Clenching her teeth, she sent her right eye outside the windscreen.

Karnasion was suspended in mid-air.

Then, like a solo performer, he rotated his aircraft, directing the nose back toward the previous roll's trajectory.

If he had continued to pursue, Illia’s side would have been ripped apart by Karnasion.

“Karsten Turn.”

That name echoed once more in the back of his mind, in Kiyoaki's voice.

The technique that only her father, Karsten, could perform was now being executed right before Illia’s eyes.

“Guh...”

In that moment of frustration──.

Illia's aircraft shattered into pieces.

It had suffered a structural failure due to excessive load.

Illia was thrown from the cockpit, head down, plummeting toward Air Hunt Island──.

“Gih...!?”

Karnasion opened his right eye, barely able to due to the burns.

He had just completed the Karsten Turn and should have been aiming his guns at the foolish rookie’s side──but there was nothing in his sights.

──Had I been read?

He quickly glanced behind his aircraft.

The pursuing enemy craft had been shattered to pieces.

Before he entered the turn, they must have realized the trap and kicked the footbar. Their reckless manoeuvre had pushed their aircraft beyond its limits, resulting in a self-destruction.

There was no thrill of victory. Only frustration remained.

──Does this enemy know this technique?

No one should know that Karnasion could perform the Karsten Turn. Because he had shot down every enemy aircraft that had pursued him using this technique. Seeing the Karsten Turn meant death for that enemy.

And yet, he had been sensed.

“...Gii...”

Inexpressible frustration transformed into a sound deep in his throat.

Looking down, he saw the parachute of the enemy pilot that had been ejected from the cockpit opening slowly, beginning its descent. Karnasion tilted the control stick and slowly circled around the pilot.

──It’s a girl. Still young.

To his surprise, the pilot was a girl with long red hair. She executed a textbook parachute descent, extending her long legs forward. She seemed aware, fixing her sharp gaze on Karnasion with her slanted eyes.

She was a beautiful girl.

She possessed an external beauty that Karnasion lacked, along with remarkable qualities as a pilot.

Somewhere, he recognized her. Yes, she was one of the young officers referred to as "The Seven of Eriadore," featured in a publication of the Urano Air Force.

──Karsten Kreischmidt's only daughter.

There was no doubt about it. The vibrant red-haired girl from the article matched the appearance of the girl now parachuting down.

──Should I kill her?

If he caught her parachute with his wings or fired a bullet, this girl would die.

For Karnasion, having a beautiful girl’s life in his hands was satisfying.

He persistently circled around the helpless girl, slowly observing her miserable descent.

She seemed to understand that her life was being toyed with. Drifting helplessly in mid-air, the girl glared at Karnasion with a determined gaze.

──This woman will pursue me, be defeated in return, and become mine.

He suddenly thought of this.

It was a pleasurable game. To carve the humiliation of defeat into the talented, beautiful girl, making her pursue him and, after she grew stronger, to deliver another defeat. Watching the tear-stained face of this girl, twisted in frustration as her efforts crumbled, he wanted to revel in his own greatness.

Karnasion opened the windscreen, exposing his grotesque appearance to the girl.

He spread a burned, scarred grin beneath the bandages.

The girl’s expression twisted in clear anguish. For a girl raised under the elite education of "The King of the Skies," Karsten Kreischmidt, this must have been unbearable humiliation.

──Chase me. With all your heart and soul.

──Fill your thoughts with me.

──Devote your life to pursuing me, only to be defeated in the end.

[[File:KarnasionIllia.png|thumb]]

──Become a wretched loser, having your dreams and hopes snatched away, and become mine.

As he showered these unspoken words upon the girl, Karnasion flapped his wings. After mocking her with several wingbeats, he returned to the combat zone in search of his next prey──.

At the hill before Cross Cape, Hachidori stopped the bike and turned back to Mio.

“...I’ll distract the military police. You need to go on alone from here.”

“...Huh?”

“Fire this signal flare at the rocky area below Cross Cape. A flying vessel should land to recover the stranded personnel. Get on it and escape.”

Mio remained frozen in the back seat. Hachidori, looking ahead down the road, spoke coldly and matter-of-factly.

“They must already know that you’ve escaped. Police officers all over the island are searching for you. If I’m seen with you, I’ll be suspected. I need to stay at the officer academy and continue my mission.”

After delivering this in one breath, he gestured with his chin toward Mio, who still wouldn’t move.

“Get off.”

Mio silently dismounted from the bike and gazed out over the island’s landscape from the hilltop.

In the sky, fierce aerial combat continued. Enemy and allied aircraft fell, spewing smoke and turning into flames upon hitting the ground. The burning city, the military port, the anti-aircraft gun positions were all vividly drawn into Mio’s eyes.

“...Did we help with this?”

“Yeah. Based on the information I leaked, plans were made to neutralize the island's military forces. You supported me. We share the guilt.”

“...I see. ...That’s how it is.”

Mio stood quietly, being blown by the wind at the hilltop.

Then she closed her eyes, as if contemplating something, and turned to Hachidori.

“Hey.”

In her jade-coloured eyes, there was a glint of a dead soul.

“Kill me.”

The wind swept through, tousling Mio's golden hair.

“You don’t mind killing someone, do you? You said I was a burden. So, go ahead and kill me.”

Hachidori snorted.

“Do you really want me to kill you?”

“Yes.”

“If you thought I would stop, you were mistaken.”

Hachidori drew his pistol, aiming it between Mio’s eyebrows.

“There will be no pain. It’ll be over in an instant.”

“Yeah.”

Before death, Mio’s eyes did not waver.

It was clear from her gaze that she was completely despairing of life.

──I’ll kill her.

So Hachidori thought.

──It would be easier for her this way.

Hachidori understood Mio’s pain. Every choice offered led to despair, and as long as she lived, there would be no light of hope. There was no reason to live in such anguish. He thought that killing her without inflicting pain would be the least he could do to show compassion.

──Hey, Hachidori.

Just as he was about to pull the trigger, he heard Reiner Beck’s voice from within.

──Could you do it for me? I won't do anything bad.

Hachidori tried to ignore it. Reiner, who acted as if he were alive, was merely a created being. It was impossible for him to possess independent will and speak.

But.

──If you kill Mio, you’ll anger General Zenon, you know?

──Mio is the general's favourite. It’d be better to keep her alive; it’ll earn you points.

That was a plausible argument.

“Can you keep her alive?”

He asked Reiner.

──I don’t know. But I’ll try my best.

──Just so you know, this isn’t for Mio. It’s for your advancement.

Hachidori pondered briefly and then relinquished his consciousness to Reiner.

A carefree smile spread across Reiner’s face as he raised the gun.

“Jumping off a cliff for a dramatic suicide? What a tragic heroine. So lame.”

Reiner lowered the gun and smiled at Mio.

“I’m not going to shoot. Run away. The Urano recovery team is excellent. They won’t leave a comrade behind in enemy territory. Go down to the cliff and fire the signal flare. You’ll be saved.”

Reiner forcibly placed the flare gun into Mio’s hands.

Mio’s powerless eyes turned to Reiner. She seemed to quickly realize that his persona had switched.

“...Why? I don’t want to escape. ...I’m fine here. ...I don’t want to live anymore.”

Tears flowed from Mio’s eyes, unable to be held back, spilling over.

“You betrayed your comrades. You plunged everyone who helped you into this hell. You drove the kind people of the town to their deaths. There’s no way I can continue living like this!”

Mio threw down the signal flare and attempted to snatch the pistol from Reiner’s hands.

Reiner moved the pistol behind his back, refusing to give it up.

Still wearing a frivolous smile, he poured strength into his words.

“Stop whining, you idiot. If you die, who will they hate?”

Though he continued to chuckle, his eyes were devoid of any laughter.

“If you want to atone for your sins, don’t die.”

Mio turned her gaze away from Reiner.

“Live. That is your atonement.”

Holding onto Mio’s wrist tightly, Reiner spoke firmly.

“You’re the lowest of the low. You betrayed the comrades who saved your life, leaked information to the enemy, and ended up turning this island into what it is now. You can’t escape from this. You’re a perfect, utterly despicable traitor, just like me.”

Mio squeezed her eyes shut, tears continuing to flow from beneath her closed lids.

“But if you die here, the ones who have been trampled will have no one to hate. They won’t be able to throw stones or spit at you, or curse and beat you until death. You have a duty to let those who were trampled throw stones and spit at you, to bear their curses.”

Reiner grabbed Mio’s chin and forced her face toward him.

“Don’t run away. Look at me.”

“...Let go...”

“Open your eyes. Look at me.”

“...Just... let it be...”

“Mio!!”

When he shouted, Mio opened her eyes slightly, frightened.

Reiner was no longer smiling.

It was the first time she saw Reiner’s serious expression.

“Live, even if you’re hated by your comrades. That is your atonement.”

“...”

“If they are important to you, if you truly care for Kiyoaki, then...”

The earnest words woven by Reiner were carried to Mio by the howling wind.

“Even if you crawl, even if it’s unglamorous, live. Keep living and survive. That is the only way you can atone for your sins right now.”

Then he let go of Mio’s wrist.

Mio crumpled to the ground, powerless.

Having said what he needed to, Reiner put on his helmet and mounted his beloved bike.

“I’ll leave the rest to you. You can choose to die here or to live. I have things to do, so this is goodbye.”

He revved the bike’s engine and looked down at Mio.

“It was fun, Mio. I believe we’ll meet again somewhere. I want to eat your katsudon until I’m full again.”

Then, looking up at the sky with a carefree smile, Reiner shouted loudly.

“Even if we become enemies, we will not hate each other!!”

With arms wide open like a theatre actor, he called out to the sky.

“Friendship is eternal!!”

He proclaimed the vow made among the seven, jokingly but with all his might.

The sky seemed to embrace that vow.

Though the ground was hell, the heavens were ironically clear.

Mio couldn’t understand why they had to revisit such a promise at this moment.

After saying that much, Reiner opened the throttle and dashed away like the wind.

Mio sat on the ground, powerless, staring at the objects lying on the road.

The signal flare and the pistol.

Tools for living and tools for dying.

The cruel god had presented her with a choice laid out before her.

Mio stared blankly at the two tools with her colourless eyes.

“Live, even if you are hated by your comrades. That is your atonement.”

Reiner's words echoed in the back of her mind.

“Even if we are divided into enemies and allies, we will not hate each other.”

“Friendship is eternal.”

For some reason, the vow they exchanged rose from the depths of her heart.

Was she going to die here to end this unbearable life?

Or was she going to live, to atone for her betrayal to her comrades?

No matter which choice she made, both paths led to hell. Mio had to choose one from these sad options.

Rushing through the flames, bloodshot eyes quickly scanned the surroundings, finding a brief opening in the thick smoke to soar towards the sky.

Only when he broke through the pitch-black haze did he realize his aircraft had reversed direction.

Looking up at the ground, he saw the sky below. Correcting his line of sight with the control stick, Kiyoaki confirmed that he had shaken off the enemy aircraft that had been pursuing him. He had learned that by skilfully utilizing clouds and explosions, he could recover even when being attacked from behind.

Quickly surveying the area, he searched for more enemy aircraft.

The combat zone was a chaotic mix of allies and foes.

The Urano patrol ship, equipped with a lifting device, was fiercely firing on the attacking enemy fighters amidst a torrential downpour of explosions. In response, the St Vault's attack fleet, which had rushed to the scene, was unleashing a tremendous barrage of anti-aircraft fire, creating a chaotic scene between the sky and the sea filled with gunpowder smoke, where countless aircraft burst into flames and plummeted down.

With the roar of a thousand cannonballs echoing, the impact shook the entire aircraft like a hammer. Gripping the control stick with all his might, Kiyoaki soared through the explosion-laden battlefield. No matter how far he flew, fire, smoke, or shattered steel armour lay before his eyes.

He had experienced air battles before in Eriadore and Red Goat, but this was on a completely different scale. It was a major showdown between the massive air forces of Urano and St Vault. He was spread-eagle in the heart of it all. He was still alive and able to fight.

But.

──Don’t get too heated. Know your limits.

He continued to remind himself as if telling Illia. If he got caught up in the frenzy of the battlefield and became a mere pawn, he would die. He repeated that caution to himself every time he spotted enemy aircraft at the corner of his vision, resolving not to pursue recklessly.

At that moment, the shape of the Cross Cape of Air Hunt Island came into view.

An ominous feeling swept over him. A sense that had saved Kiyoaki's life several times before knocked on his temple.

His gaze caught sight of the source of his instinct.

"……!?"

At the base of the cape, a girl was approaching the rocky shore where white waves crashed.

A cluster of four diamond-shaped rocks marked a spot where seawater formed a cross. That girl inexplicably stepped down to a dangerous place where one could be swept away by the waves.

He recognized the golden hair and her way of walking.

No, even with the difference in altitude and distance, he couldn't mistake her.

"Mio!!"

A scream burst forth. Kiyoaki's current altitude was two hundred meters. His voice couldn’t reach her.

He couldn’t understand what Mio was doing. However, he could tell it wasn’t something ordinary, even if she looked like a mere speck from afar. Why was Mio not at the police station, and why was she alone in such a place?

Then──Mio's small hand was raised to the sky, and a flying object with a green tail was launched towards the air.

It was a flare. Following the green one, blue, yellow, and white flares were successively drawn in the sky, each with a long tail of various colours.

It seemed to be some sort of distress signal, but it was clearly not from the St Vault air and naval forces.

An ominous premonition burned in Kiyoaki's mind.

"……Mio……!!"

He shouted briefly and focused his gaze around. He spotted a small stretch of white beach near the rocky area. If he landed there, it seemed possible.

There was no need for thought. Kiyoaki dove straight towards the white beach, successfully touching down on the sandy shore.

He opened the cockpit.

Mio stood at the rocky point, staring intently at the sky above.

From here, the horizontal distance was about seven hundred meters.

"Mio!!"

He called out shortly, straining his eyes to scan the surroundings. He spotted a small white beach near the rocky area. That looked like a spot where he could land.

There was no need to think. Kiyoaki immediately aimed for the white beach and descended, kicking up sand as he successfully touched down at the water’s edge.

He opened the canopy.

"Mio!!"

Kiyoaki shouted at the top of his lungs, leaping out of the plane and setting foot on the sandy beach. He began running toward Mio.

Mio stood at the edge of the rocky outcrop, her gaze fixed intensely on the sky. The horizontal distance between them was about 700 meters.

The wind above scattered the colourful smoke. She couldn’t be sure if help was truly coming or not.

However.

──Whether it comes or not, it doesn’t matter.

She had lost interest in her own fate. She didn’t care what happened to her. Even if a bomb hit and she was blown apart right here, she wouldn’t feel a shred of sadness.

What was left for her now was just a single determination.

──To live, to be hated by everyone.

Dying was easy. It would all end, and she could return to zero. For her, it would be quite comfortable, and if possible, she would want to do just that.

However, as Reiner said, choosing that would be too cruel to her comrades.

──Why did I commit suicide without knowing about my betrayal, leaving them tormented?

She thought that was incredibly irresponsible. She wanted to avoid causing any more suffering to her innocent comrades.

──If the anger of the comrades with nowhere to go could be released by hating her.

──If it would allow them to find a target to take aim at without anguish.

──Even if it was shameful. Even if it meant crawling.

──She had to live.

Mio raised her face.

She looked back at the island and gazed at the blazing Air Hunt Island.

Deeply imprinting this sight into the depths of her soul, into the very core of her being.

──To live, bearing this sin.

She had made that resolve. She didn’t care how or where she would die from here on. She would live and live until her fate ran out, believing that this would atone for her sins. She hoped that the hearts of the comrades she had hurt would be saved, even just a little.

At that moment, the roar of a lifting device echoed down from the sky.

Looking up, she saw an unfamiliar airship about twenty meters long descending towards Cross Cape. It was a small flying ship from Urano, equipped with four lifting devices on its hull, without any wings. It seemed to have already spotted Mio, as it came to a halt fifty meters above the ground and dropped a recovery rope.

Mio focused on the rope hanging before her. A hook for personnel recovery was attached to its end, and the crew of the airship leaned out from the hull, urgently signalling her to hook onto it with one hand.

──I’m going to ride this ship and go to Pleiades.

Mio silently grasped the hook.

Then she looked back once more at the sight of Air Hunt Island.

It had been a place that had allowed her to spend a rich year. She had made many good memories.

She had met comrades she believed she would be with for a lifetime.

But now, she felt she had no right to say goodbye to them.

──It’s okay to hate me.

──It’s okay to want to kill me.

Flowing unspoken farewell words deep within her heart, Mio looked up at the sky and was about to signal the airship's crew that she was ready.

At that moment──.

"Mio!!"

A familiar voice reached her.

Startled, she turned her gaze back to the rocks.

On one of the split rocks, separated by a strip of seawater, stood Kiyoaki.

Kiyoaki looked up and shouted at the airship's crew.

"Stop…!! Let Mio go!!"

It seemed he mistakenly thought Mio was being taken away. If that continued, she would be shot from above. She was too exposed in front of the enemy ship.

Mio shouted back.

"Don’t come!! I called for this myself!!"

Kiyoaki returned his gaze to Mio, still unable to comprehend the situation.

"Let’s go back, Mio…!!"

The seawater gap separating them was only about one and a half meters wide. Kiyoaki looked as if he would leap over to her rock any moment now.

──He must not come.

──He would be shot.

Mio shouted with all her might.

"Don’t come here!!"

Kiyoaki flinched, startled by Mio's angry voice for the first time.

He was within reach if she stretched out her hand.

But she couldn’t reach out. The distance between them was now a barrier that would never close.

──She had to say goodbye to Kiyoaki here.

Mio steeled herself. She raised her palm to the airship above, signalling them not to shoot.

──I must tell the truth.

──So that Kiyoaki can forget about me from now on.

──So that her comrades can truly hate her.

Grateful to the cruel god for this opportunity, Mio put as much disdain as she could into her expression as she looked at the one she loved most.

"Maybe you still haven’t realized? What that cop said was true."

"……Huh?"

Mio put on an even more disdainful expression and looked coldly at Kiyoaki.

"I’m a traitor. A spy for Urano. I entered the officer academy to deceive everyone."

Kiyoaki heard her words, but there was no reaction. He stared at Mio with his mouth agape like a mechanical doll.

Mio shrugged and continued with even colder words.

"I’d appreciate it if you could understand quickly. But it seems impossible for you. After all, my performance was too perfect."

Kiyoaki's expression gradually began to show signs of shock. He was starting to comprehend Mio's words.

Waves crashed onto the rocky shore. The summer sky was painted with thousands of silver sprays, and a heavy roar covered Mio’s voice.

Against the backdrop of silver glimmer, Mio wore a cruelly pale expression that Kiyoaki had never seen before, with the Urano airship hovering above.

But deep within Mio's heart, pain screamed in anguish. Her words and feelings were separated, more painful than any hurt she had ever experienced.

Yet she couldn't let tears fall. Mio summoned all her willpower and began to weave together the disjointed words from her heart and mouth.

"Hey, Kiyoaki, do you know?"

"I'll say it again since once probably isn’t enough. I’m a traitor."

"When I first met you, I thought you were my destined one."

"I leaked all the information about this island to Urano. Thanks to that, this happened. What a great achievement. I’ll be praised by my superiors when I return."

"It was my dream to become your bride."

"By the way, the operation on Messus Island was also my dad's doing. He leaked all the island's information to Urano, making it easy to conquer Odessa Fortress. The reason the area was safe back then was because my dad was there."

"I believed we would always be together."

"Deceiving everyone was the most fun. You’re all so gullible. I’m a member of Urano, yet you all trusted me so easily."

"I thought I would spend my life by your side, laughing together."

"Making promises like not hating each other even if we became enemies—how foolish."

"Goodbye, the first person I fell in love with."

"Everything I’ve said to you until now was a lie."

"Goodbye, my beloved hero."

"Maybe you don’t believe me? The things I said in the canola field? I only said them because it was funny to see you suffer, so it would help if you just forgot."

"Thank you for all the memories."

"This concludes my mission. I’m heading back to Pleiades. Ah, it was fun. Well then, bye forever."

"I will never forget you."

"……Huh……?"

Despite the harsh words hurled at him, Kiyoaki continued to stare only at Mio.

Mio looked up to the sky and shouted.

"What are you hesitating for? The job is done, so hurry up and retreat!! I don’t want to stay on this island for even a second longer!!"

The crew, flustered, made the lifting device roar to life.

The airship began to ascend. The rope tightened, lifting Mio's body, her shoes leaving the rocky ground. The howling wind tangled Mio's hair, and below, Kiyoaki grew distant. Tears that she had held back threatened to spill.

──Not yet, don’t cry.

──Absolutely, don’t let the tears fall.

Mio maintained her cruelly pale expression as she looked down at Kiyoaki.

As they ascended beyond a hundred meters, and their expressions became indistinguishable, Mio finally twisted her face and let go of her reason.

"Ugh… ugh…"

She knew she had done something unforgivable.

But this was the only way to reveal the truth. If she didn’t do this, Kiyoaki and the others would have no one to hate.

"Sniff… hic…"

With tears streaming down her face, Mio was taken aboard the airship. The ship quickly departed the combat zone, heading toward the distant air fortress "Balsinos."

Outside the window, the blazing Air Hunt Island receded into the distance.

Leaving the island where her comrades were still fighting desperately, Mio was being taken alone to the air fortress she had never visited and to the unseen aerial city of Pleiades──.

"Mio…?"

Left behind on the rocks, Kiyoaki gazed up at the small airship disappearing into the distance, dazed.

At first, he couldn’t understand the meaning of Mio’s words, but gradually they began to sink in, confronting him with an undeniable reality.

"Mio is… a traitor?"

Since the winter break, Mio had suddenly begun to distance herself from everyone. She had started to treat Kiyoaki like a stranger, as if he were someone else.

The reason was.

"Because she’s a spy for Urano?"

He didn’t want to accept it. But various events aligned with what Mio had said.

"It was… fun deceiving everyone?"

Mio’s disdainful expression and her terrible words echoed in his mind.

"What does that even mean? What is this…?"

Kiyoaki looked up at the sky. The battle continued as fiercely as ever, with enemy and allied aircraft clashing violently, but the airship with Mio had already vanished beyond his sight.

"Is this… goodbye?"

Mio was gone.

That fact was the only thing he understood.

"Is this how we’re parting?"

If he believed Mio’s words, then it meant that she was the one responsible for destroying Air Hunt Island like this. Not just this island, but the invasion of Messus Island too, as she had claimed Ethan was involved.

Mio's true identity was that of a covert operative.

The weight of that truth pierced Kiyoaki’s heart.

"…What… is this?"

That was all he could murmur.

Floating in the airspace where Mio had disappeared was the Urano air fortress "Balsinos." It continued to unleash its aerial strike teams from above, showing no signs of relenting in its attack on Air Hunt Island. Despite knowing the situation was anything but peaceful, Kiyoaki continued to seek Mio's form within the demonic shadow of the fortress.

After approximately fifteen hours had passed since the attack began, and as the sun set, the two air fortresses vanished beyond the horizon, having destroyed every military facility, residential area, and the Air Hunt Officer Academy on the surface. Although they could have occupied the island at any time, they apparently judged that maintaining control would be difficult due to logistical reasons, and no landing was made. After the monstrous destruction had departed, only the wreckage of the new fleet and the scorched remains of Air Hunt Island were left behind.
[[File:KiyoakiLooking.png|thumb]]
Amidst the rubble, Kiyoaki and his comrades waited for Mio’s return.

But she never came back.

In the days that followed, the operation headquarters investigation committee examined the incident of the Air Hunt Island attack and publicly announced the fact that a covert operative had leaked all the island’s information to Urano.

The investigation report released to the entire St Vault Empire concluded that a single officer candidate was responsible for the outflow of critical information, including the locations of military facilities, underground fuel depots, fleet moorings, and vacation dates, as well as sabotage of defence nets and anti-submarine nets.

The name of the infiltrating operative was Mio Syira.

That name would forever be imprinted in the St Vault Empire as a synonym for "traitor"──.

END VOLUME 3

Toaru Hikuushi e no Seiyaku:V3Part5

2025-12-01T03:05:40Z

QCore:

Part 22 (Part 5 of Volume 3)
The sea spray was lifted high into the sky, obscuring the sunlight and hiding even the rainbow. Like a divine millstone, the thunderclouds draped themselves over the rice fields.

Twisting and swirling like a spiral, the immense millstone moved slowly towards the southeast, rotating the clouds as if they were a melody. The true nature of the swirling clouds, described as the "Dragon's Nest," was an extraordinarily large typhoon with a diameter of over 1,600 kilometres and maximum wind speeds exceeding 50 meters per second.

In September, typhoons frequently occur in the North-South Multi-Island Sea.

This was the fourth typhoon of the year, but its scale was exceptionally large. On the islands in the typhoon's path, preparations for the safety of crops and buildings were likely in full swing. Like a divine beast moving over the sea, the typhoon swallowed everything in its path and advanced southward.

In the year 1348 of the Empire's Chronicle, September, two hundred nautical miles north of Crossnodal Island in the North Multi-Island Sea──.

There were two flying islands, trailing at a horizontal distance of 20,000 meters from the super gigantic typhoon.

Both were enormous floating islands nearly fifteen kilometres long and five kilometres wide. Below them were long, powerful rudder mechanisms, and on the surface, there were airfields and countless anti-aircraft gun emplacements and anti-ship batteries glaring at the sky like hedgehogs.

Uranos Fortress No. 9 "Kalkinos," Fortress No. 11 "Balsinos."

Of the four flying fortresses dispatched to the Multi-Island Sea area, two were now moving south, close to the super gigantic typhoon.

At the tip of the island, there was the Uranos Fortress command centre, protected by concrete armour and thick bulletproof glass. Surrounded by several staff officers, a middle-aged soldier wearing a shoulder insignia indicating a minor rank observed the typhoon through binoculars.

──Operation Judeka.

Muttering the name of this operation to himself, Commander Lysander Kepla of Kalkinos lowered his binoculars to visually confirm the state of the super gigantic typhoon named "Judeka."

"It's an unprecedented operation."

His tone held no sarcasm; rather, it was filled with anticipation for the adventure ahead. Although Lysander had been critical of the integrated operations headquarters' methods, he was unusually enthusiastic about this "Judeka Operation."

"Interesting. If it goes well, it will surely be etched into the annals of world warfare."

While gazing at the Judeka, which painted the sky and sea in dark gray, he spoke to the navigation officer beside him. The navigation officer did not hide his grim expression.

"I hope you also understand the struggles of those on the front lines."

"Compared to aerial assaults and naval bombardments, typhoons are trivial. The wind and rain cannot destroy concrete armour."

"Staying hidden in the typhoon for nearly a week while concealing radio communications is concerning for troop morale, and won’t the underground storage become waterlogged?"

"If we start counting negatives, we’ll never finish. As a surprise attack, it makes perfect sense. Who would expect two flying fortresses to approach amidst a typhoon? In this age of omnipotent radar, attempting a surprise attack with cumbersome flying fortresses is truly an amusing plan."

Lysander laughed heartily. The navigation officer returned a serious expression, turning his attention back to the multi-island sea map on the operations table. On it, the predicted path of the typhoon led to Air Hunt Island.

"If the typhoon veers away from Air hunt Island, that would be troublesome."

"In that case, we can turn back and retreat. The odds are fifty-fifty, but it’s worth taking the risk. If all goes as planned, our swords will be thrust deep into the enemy's throat. The course of the war will change. …Well then. Shall we proceed? Are we ready?"

Receiving confirmation from the air and communication officers, Lysander issued the order.

"Steering apparatus, reduce speed to 12 knots. Entering Judeka. For a while, we won’t see the sun, so engrave its image into your minds."

The navigation officer held the microphone to his mouth and relayed the current order throughout the island. Soldiers on the ground, bidding farewell to the sun, moved towards the underground living quarters. All aircraft had already been stored in the underground hangars, and only concrete buildings fortified against wind and water remained on the surface.

Kalkinos and Balsinos, the two flying fortresses, stealthily approached the super gigantic typhoon "Judeka."

On the surface of Kalkinos, there was one person──.

In contrast to the stream of personnel flowing into the underground, someone remained at the last corner of the airfield, gazing at the typhoon.

Amidst the well-groomed soldiers, there was a man with a peculiar appearance.

Clad in a wrinkled, tattered military uniform, he leaned on a cane with his right hand.

His right foot was barefoot. What protruded from the hem of his trousers was not an ankle but a wooden stick. Firmly planted on the ground, the man, with a shabby prosthetic leg, stood still, staring intently at the typhoon.

His face was wrapped in bandages.

A small opening was made for his eyes, nose, and mouth, ensuring he could see and breathe. The exposed skin peeking through the small gap was covered in keloids, suggesting he had suffered severe burns across his face in the past. Without a military cap, the man had bandages wrapped around his head and stood there without moving.

Someone could have called out to him to take him underground, but no one approached him. He seemed to exist on a different plane than ordinary people.

After observing the typhoon until he grew tired, the man turned and began to walk unsteadily. With a hunched back and an unstable gait that made it look like he might fall at any moment, he barely managed to keep his balance, resembling an old man as he stepped onto the stairs leading down to the underground facility.

The man walked alone through the narrow underground passage.

Two lieutenants, laughing as they approached from the other side, noticed him, gasped in alarm, their expressions stiffening, and both pressed themselves against the wall, looking up at him in respect as he passed. The man walked by slowly, tapping the floor with his cane, without returning their nod. The lieutenants remained motionless against the wall until he disappeared down the corridor.

At every place the man went, the Uranos personnel reacted the same way.

They merely feared and made way. Mechanics, pilots, officers, engine personnel, and supply personnel all knew his face, yet no one spoke to him. They merely stiffened their expressions, suppressing screams, and made way for him.

Eventually, the bandaged man reached the underground hangar for the flying machines.

Afterward, he began to wander through the hangar as if searching for a lost treasure.

Noticing him, a mechanic cautiously approached the bandaged man and pointed to a single seat fighter aircraft.

Without expressing thanks, the bandaged man walked unsteadily toward the indicated aircraft.

He stuck a staff at his waist and clung to the wings, desperately trying to climb up. His movements were awkward, like a caterpillar crawling up a tree branch. A mechanic, unable to watch any longer, rushed over to help, but the bandaged man turned around, clinging to the wings, and glared with his keloid-covered eyes.

"Gi...!"

A strange growl reverberated from beneath the bandages. The intimidated mechanic let out a short scream and stayed put. The bandaged man twisted his body and climbed up onto the wings, then rolled into the cockpit with the same motion.

This was where he slept.

Although a special room was prepared in the living quarters, the bandaged man never approached it, always sleeping alone in the cramped cockpit.

The mechanic gazed at the cockpit with a look of disbelief before turning his gaze to the nose of the aircraft.

It was decorated with a black panther's nose art.

In the same league as Akmed from Valkyrie, there was the emblem of the "King of the Skies."

──Karnasion.

The King of the Skies was now curled up like a caterpillar in the cockpit, waiting for the day he would soar into battle.

Though Karnasion found it difficult to walk on the ground, in the sky he maneuverer fighter planes freely, transforming into a black panther that hunted down any prey. With an ugly appearance and a lost right leg, his throat covered in keloids, he could barely speak, making the ground feel like hell to him. The only place he could behave freely was in the cockpit of a fighter plane. The aircraft now responded to his desires more than his own body, projecting the aerial manoeuvres he imagined into the sky.

To Karnasion, his beloved machine was his own flesh and blood.

In this miserable state, crawling on the ground, he was merely a husk. A husk needed no family, friends, or lovers—only his beloved machine.

Inside the cockpit, he closed his eyes, feeling comforted as the aircraft gently cradled his ugly self. Karnasion and the Type 3 Idra had completely merged, becoming one being.

Karnasion, who loved the sky more than anyone, also wanted to be loved by the sky more than anyone. He could not accept that anything else could be more loved than him by the sky. If such a presence existed, he would have to shoot it down for the sake of his pride.

Even in the next battlefield, he wanted to be the one most loved by the sky. He must make the skies above Air Hunt Island his own.

Offering that prayer, Karnasion fell asleep.

The sounds of wind and rain from afar grew more intense. The flying fortress was entering the typhoon as planned──.

Though I wondered how it would turn out, it wasn't all bad.

Previously, just receiving a command was a hassle that required going through a cumbersome messenger. But now, I had the best communication method, Fio, at my disposal. There were times I regretted getting in touch with Mio out of curiosity, but communication with the secret intelligence division was immensely convenient now.

"Thanks to that, this kind of job is now possible."

In the moonlit midnight, standing in a wetsuit on the rocky shore near Sanjiru Bay, southwest of Air Hunt Island, Reiner smiled at his partner.

"…Where did you get that?"

Mio asked coldly, her gaze fixed on Reiner, who was carrying an oxygen tank.

"If you sneak into the naval storage, there’s plenty to go around."

Checking the small light attached to his head, Reiner carelessly replied as he tucked a small knife into his waist pocket. It sounded simple, but sneaking into a military supply depot closely monitored by soldiers and stealing this diving gear was no small feat.

"Then keep an eye out. If anyone comes, either scare them off or move to another spot. I’m counting on you."

Saying this, Reiner put on a full-face mask. A covert operative for underwater infiltration had to excel in all kinds of skills, but Reiner surprised me with his abilities in both theft and diving techniques.

"See you."

Mio sighed and waved to Reiner. In the moonlight, Reiner smiled behind the mask, gave a thumbs up, and plunged into the sea.

The waves soon settled as if nothing had happened. Mio sat on a flat rock, gazing wistfully at the full moon reflected on the water’s surface.

──What am I doing…?

Lately, I had begun to abandon my thoughts. Losing interest in my own future made everything seem inconsequential. Like a mechanical puppet, I received messages through Fio, passed the content to Reiner without reading it, tied Reiner's replies to Fio’s legs, and occasionally accompanied Reiner in his suspicious activities. I didn’t want to know what he was doing, nor had I ever asked. I was afraid of understanding the meaning behind his actions.

In Sanjiru Bay, red and orange lights sparkled everywhere. It looked like a seaside city, but a fleet was anchored in two columns. The shimmering artificial lights under the starlight appeared fantastical, like something from a fairy tale. Yet, when battle commenced, a single battleship could unleash firepower equivalent to five divisions—a deadly weapon of slaughter.

After waiting for a little over an hour, Reiner surfaced.

Dripping seawater, he climbed onto the rocks, discarded his full-face mask, and grinned playfully at Mio.

"Success. Big score."

"…………"

"Want to know what I did?"

"I don't want to know."

"You're so cold. Even though you're an accomplice."

"…It’s over, right? I’m going home."

"I'll take you close to school. Just wait a bit."

Reiner quickly changed into his uniform, tossed the oxygen tank and fins into the sea, and stuffed the remaining diving gear into his backpack.

"Alright. Mission accomplished. Get on."

Mio silently accepted the helmet from Reiner and sat on the back of the bike.

"You can cling to me, you know?"

"I decline."

Rejecting him outright, she grasped the tandem grips on either side of the rear seat. Reiner laughed merrily and kicked the starter.

It was 2 AM. They rode along a deserted, pitch-black public road.

Mio remained silent, gazing at the passing night scenery.

──Where am I going…?

Suddenly, a wave of anxiety surged within me. I barely managed to suppress the urge to scream.

"Let’s stop here. If we go back together, it’ll look suspicious."

About twenty minutes on foot from school, Reiner planted one foot on the ground. Mio got off the back seat and returned the helmet to Reiner.

"Recently, your attitude seems to have improved a bit."

"…What do you mean by that?"

“It’s not as bad as it used to be. Honestly, I wish you would smile a bit more, but I guess that’s asking for too much.”

What Reiner was talking about was Mio’s everyday life. Since being told about what Ethan was doing, Mio had cut off all communication, but since the summer break, she had gradually started exchanging words with those around her.

“Maybe you’re just getting used to it. I hope you can soon trick everyone while laughing like me.”

“...There’s no way I can do that.”

“Even if you can’t reach my level, just try to act normally. If you get caught, your parents and siblings will get caught too. Don’t forget that.”

“...I understand. I’ll act normally.”

“Well then.”

“Hey.”

“Hmm?”

“...Don’t you feel anything about this?”

“Huh?”

“...Deceiving everyone every day... Working behind the scenes for Urano like this... Are you okay with it?”

When Reiner realized the intent behind her question, he scoffed mockingly, making a sound in his throat.

“I’m fine. I don’t feel anything. I’m a soldier of Urano, after all. It’s only natural to work for Urano.”

“...”

“It’s worse for those being deceived. In this day and age, weaklings and fools are the real evil. Even Kiyoaki, pretending to be a good person, is just practicing murder, you know? He’s studying how to efficiently massacre a lot of Urano people. What’s wrong with working to kill St Vault people?”

Mio remained silent and couldn’t answer. She had lost track of what was good and what was evil.

“You need to wake up quickly. If you keep moping around, you’ll never go back to how things were.”

Reiner tossed that out in his usual light tone, opened the throttle, and the engine roared as he disappeared into the night.

Staring into the darkness, Mio sighed and walked alone along the night sidewalk.

The summer constellations sparkled like a treasure box from the gods. The night breeze in mid-September carried a hint of autumn.

Almost a month had passed since that night in the cave with Kiyoaki.

The scene from that time was still preserved at the centre of Mio’s consciousness.

The events of that stormy night, where she entrusted everything to Kiyoaki and accepted him as he was.

Just recalling it brought warmth to her body. Feeling shy and unsure of where to put that heat, Mio lifted her right middle finger to her eyes.

A silver ring was fitted there.

The warmth turned into a pang of sadness.

In the summer when she was twelve, she made a promise with Kiyoaki in a field of canola flowers.

“Don’t cheat, okay? We promised we’d get married!”

After forcing Kiyoaki to accept a canola tiara, Mio taught him how to perform the rituals of the Sylvanian royal family.

“After that, I’ll give you a silver ring! That’ll complete the ritual, and our love will be eternal!”

Because they were children, they were fearless. Since then, the invasion of Messus Island had happened, and they had both grown up without ever bringing up that promise again. But Mio had always kept the ring on her finger, thinking that one day she might give it to Kiyoaki.

──But that day would never come.

Mio stopped walking and took the ring off her finger.

Then, holding it tightly, she raised it above her head—thought better of it, and lowered her arm.

“How foolish.”

She composed herself, then told herself:

“I don’t wish for my own happiness anymore. So it’s okay to throw this away.”

She tightened her cheeks and wound up once more—this time, Mio threw the silver ring into the bushes by the roadside.

At the peak of its arc, the ring sparkled in the starlight before disappearing into the underbrush.

“This is it. It’s over.”

Clapping her hands together, she said this to herself and walked toward school.

With each step, the pain in her chest grew stronger.

Kiyoaki’s expressions floated up among the summer constellations.

She had been with him since they were children. She believed she would become his bride.

She had loved him dearly.

And she still loved him.

Even if I try to ignore the voice in my heart, it only grows louder and echoes within me.

Mio turned around, stepped off the path, and ventured into the underbrush.

Shining her penlight into the thicket, she desperately searched for the ring.

"What am I doing?"

She felt like crying but held it back. If she cried now, she would be far too miserable.

"I'm such an idiot."

She plunged her hands into the dark thicket, continuing her search for the lost ring. The light of the moon and stars twinkled brightly, as if trying to help her.

Since the attack on Crossnodal Island by the Urano Air Force, the only gateway for the St Vault Empire's military to land in the South Archipelago Sea had become here, at the Chandler Base on Mauregan Island. Now, this island could be called the headquarters of the St Vault Air Force, with the main ships of the Archipelago Fleet lined up at the military port, and the warehouse district, city, and markets overflowing with soldiers, all buzzing with the excitement of war.

A short distance away from that noise, halfway up a hill overlooking the military port, stood a small two-story building.

The exposed concrete surface gave off a grim atmosphere. The iron-barred entrance was unwelcoming and heavily secured, with several armed soldiers on guard at the entrance.

There was no sign, but inside was the Operations Headquarters of the St Vault Air Force's Archipelago Division. Lieutenant Balthazar Grim, a candidate officer from the intelligence section, was looking out from a second-floor window of that dreary building.

The rows of palm trees basking in the September sunlight swayed ominously in the sea breeze.

The wind was gradually picking up. Typhoon No. 4 was approaching. According to the forecast, the typhoon would skim the north of Mauregan Island tomorrow and move southeast, with expectations to directly hit Air Hunt Island four days later.

Gazing at the deep blue sea in the distance, he took a deep breath to rest his tired eyes from paperwork and faced the mountain of communication records stacked on his desk. These records contained signals sent from enemy forces deployed near Crossnodal Island.

What Balthazar was currently doing was an intelligence mission known as communications intelligence.

By statistically analysing the time a signal was transmitted, the location that was attacked that day, the transmission points of signals sent from enemy aircraft, vessels, and submarines, as well as differences in signal volume during dates when attacks were carried out and not carried out, he could predict to some extent the enemy's attack locations, times, and scale. This required piling up all the intercepted signals and meticulously checking day and night for anything unusual hidden within the data.

He was the lowest ranked in the workplace. Every day, he was chased by miscellaneous tasks unrelated to statistical work, but he endured without complaining. He knew that in order to achieve his grand goals, it was essential to quietly handle these tasks and gain trust within the division first.

It had already been nearly six months since he graduated from Air Hunt Officer Academy.

His classmates had various assignments: some went on training cruises, others were assigned to fleet duties, and some had already been deployed to base air squadrons. He had never been particularly close to anyone in school, so there was no communication, and he didn’t mind at all.

Really. Not at all.

──He didn't mind.

Balthazar told himself this, turning his gaze away from the mountain of documents to look out at the dazzling blue sky.

──There’s no way he could be concerned.

He checked with himself once more.

──It’s not that he’s concerned, but I wonder how Kagura is doing.

He suddenly thought this. Although he didn’t quite understand it himself, several times a day, he found himself wondering about it.

Why was that?

He questioned himself and arrived at an answer.

──It’s because Kagura is assigned to the Voltec Air Force.

Kagura had been assigned to the strongest fighter squadron in the St Vault Air Force. She was probably gripping the controls of a fighter plane right now, soaring freely through the skies.

──That’s what makes him envious.

While he was stuck with mundane work like sifting through a mountain of dirt to find a single grain of gold, Kagura was on the front lines, deployed with a top-tier fighter squadron. From the outside, it was clear that Kagura was an elite officer assigned to a much more glamorous mission.

──That’s why he cares. That’s the conclusion. How ridiculous.

Laughing at his own thoughts, Balthazar faced the mountain of tedious paperwork once again. Most of the content was just a string of incomprehensible call signs. Hundreds of sheets densely filled with this writing were piled on his desk.

──If you want to get promoted quickly, decipher this mass of numbers.

He told himself, meticulously and patiently staring at a group of numerical sequences, recording their patterns, irregularities, and statistically unclear points in a separate notebook.

While continuing this large and concentration-demanding task, there was something that had been bothering him for the past couple of days.

──I wonder how Kagura is doing.

──No, that’s not it. The numbers that have appeared are decidedly different from the usual trends.

Balthazar flipped through the dozens of personal notebooks he had amassed and compared the current communication records with those from the past week, deducing and sniffing out some unclear trends.

──The communication records from the Vestelant continent are unnatural.

Four days ago, suddenly, signals differing from the usual patterns were intercepted from the waters north of Crossnodal Island, closer to the Vestelant continent. Although he couldn’t understand the content, it likely came from an unknown Urano fleet. Then, three days ago, these signals abruptly stopped. Since then, there had been no signals from the relevant waters, nor any large-scale attacks on Crossnodal Island.

──The fleet has vanished.

That’s how it could be interpreted. But they couldn’t just disappear. The enemy fleet was likely enforcing radio communication silence and heading somewhere. Whether it was to dock at the Urano base or to launch an attack on the St Vault base was unclear.

Yesterday, Balthazar reported this matter to the head of the information section. It seemed that similar reports had already come in from other staff, and the head nodded and reported it to the director as a point of concern. Presumably, other capable personnel were involved in the analysis. They should still be in the process of analysing it, but──could they afford to take their time?

Balthazar’s intuition whispered of a crisis.

The job of an information section officer was to statistically analyze vast amounts of data and uncover the enemy’s schemes from it.

From a mere mass of numbers, they had to predict the timing, scale, and location of enemy operations, which required a craftsman’s skill. After thoroughly studying and analysing the data mathematically, they would use their craft instincts to discern the truth──that was the job of a communications intelligence officer.

──Read the truth from the numbers.

Balthazar pored over the mountain of paperwork late into the night, highlighting concerning sections, jotting down notes in his personal notebook, cross-referencing them with past records, and arrived at a certain hypothesis.

──This massive amount of signal transmissions does not come from a fleet. It comes from an air fortress, a floating island.

By comparing the past signal records from the Urano fleet with those intercepted from an Urano air fortress a year and a half ago, he noticed subtle differences in the waves of numbers, leading him to this hypothesis.

──Perhaps two air fortresses have been moving south along the Vestelant continent.

──And three days ago, they sealed off their radio communications.

──What happened on that day?

Balthazar reviewed the combat records from Crossnodal Island and the weather forecast for that day, furthering his line of reasoning.

──There was no battle. Instead, a typhoon passed through the nearby waters.

──As the air fortress approached the typhoon, it shifted to radio communication control.

──What occurred in the relevant waters at that time?

Balthazar glanced out at the darkening window.

Stars twinkled like falling sparks. He could hear the sounds of autumn insects.

A hypothesis flashed in his mind.

──Two air fortresses hid within the typhoon.

For what purpose?

──To mask their radar and neutralize enemy detection, advancing deep into the North Daito Sea.

He had never heard of such a case. It was an unprecedented operation in the history of world warfare. However, having analysed the data, he could conclude nothing else.

Balthazar picked up a newspaper to check the projected path of the typhoon.

The typhoon was expected to hit Air Hunt Island in four days. Currently, two new type air battleships and four new type air carriers, as well as a newly organized assault fleet, were stationed at Air Hunt Island. If the two air fortresses launched a surprise attack, the newly formed assault fleet, a symbol of hope for St Vault, would be utterly annihilated.

──But could there really be a strategy to approach hidden within a typhoon?

His reasoning seemed far-fetched, and Balthazar felt confused. If he reported this to his superiors, it would likely be dismissed as childish fantasy.

──But a surprise attack is called so precisely because it catches the enemy off guard.

Caught between his reasoning and intuition, Balthazar wavered.

Should he report this matter to his superiors tomorrow or not?

If a mere rookie like him presented such a hypothesis and was laughed at, while nothing came of it, his abilities would be questioned. There was a risk of being seen as a fool bringing childish fantasies to the battlefield. Everyone in the workplace was a veteran with more experience than Balthazar. Raising concerns where others saw none would carry more disadvantages.

──I’m still new. It would be wiser to keep quiet.

Reason whispered that to him.

But, still.

──If it’s true, Air Hunt Island will be destroyed.

If two air fortresses launched a surprise attack, it was certain that the entire island would be engulfed in flames. The military port and airfield, as well as the Air Hunt Officer Academy, would not escape the inferno.

──Am I really going to silently overlook the signs of a surprise attack? For my own safety?

He envisioned the faces of those attending the Air Hunt Officer Academy under the night sky outside his window.

Mio, Illia, Cecil.

And delayed, Kiyoaki and Reiner.

Reiner disappeared quickly, but the others lingered in his thoughts.

──What happens to them is none of my concern. Pathetic.

Balthazar sneered inwardly, deep in his throat. He had grand ambitions. He wasn’t interested in the childish friendships of his peers. Right now, his priority was to earn trust in this workplace. To do that, he had to be prudent, reliably carry out what his superiors instructed, and make sure they liked him.

There was no value in taking strange risks.

And yet.

──Is it really okay to just overlook it?

That voice echoed within him.

──I alone can see through this operation.

──If this is true, it could be a fast track to promotion.

──It’s worth taking the risk. Isn’t it?

──Not for the sake of my peers. But for my own advancement.

Balthazar told himself that. He didn’t want to work for the sake of his comrades, but he could work for his own promotion. That was something he could accept.

──I’ll do it. For my ambitions.

He sharpened his focus and reviewed the mountain of data once more to check for any holes in his hypothesis. After much thought, he reached a conclusion, despite the noisy chirping of insects outside the window.

──Two Urano air fortresses are approaching Air Hunt Island, hidden within the typhoon.

He could say it with conviction. Whether he was a rookie or a low-ranking trainee, he could confidently declare this as his conclusion.

──Tomorrow, I’ll report to the section chief. Laugh if you want.

──In four days, my correctness will be proven.

Resolute, he immediately began preparing materials to persuade the section chief. He extracted past radio transmission records as the basis for his argument, analysed the differences in call signs between the air fortresses and the fleet, and examined changes in communication volume in relation to the ongoing situation around Crossnodal. He calculated the fluctuations in communication volume as the typhoon moved, providing the strongest mathematical evidence available to support his theory. By the time he finished his work, the sky had already brightened, and the office staff were arriving for work.

Listening to the birds chirping, Balthazar approached the desk of Andy Bott, the section chief of the Multi-Island Sea Information Division, and after exchanging morning greetings, submitted six reports.

"…………?"

Captain Andy glanced over his glasses, casting a thoughtful look.

"There are suspicious movements in the northern sea area of Crossnodal Island. I’ve summarized them in this report."

"Hmm."

The captain began to read through the reports. He had expected to laugh off a trainee’s report, but surprisingly, he responded with genuine attention.

As he flipped through the pages, seriousness began to shine in his intelligent eyes. He meticulously followed the presented numbers, occasionally falling silent in contemplation.

"…Did you do this all by yourself?"

After finishing the reports, Captain Andy asked in a calm voice.

"Yes."

"…Two air fortresses entered the typhoon and plan to launch a surprise attack on Air Hunt Island, huh? That’s quite a bold assertion."

"I agree. However, when cross-referencing the numbers with the surrounding situation, that possibility…”

Balthazar replied calmly. Captain Andy fell silent again, leaning back in his chair, observing Balthazar's expression through his glasses. Balthazar met his gaze without flinching.

After a moment of consideration, the captain broke the silence, causing the springs of his chair to creak.

"…I’ll forward this report to the director. Whether the content will be seriously considered is up to the operational parties. Based on my experience, it’s unlikely that headquarters will take action… but this is certainly worth raising."

A shiver ran down Balthazar’s spine. He had thought he wouldn’t be taken seriously, but it was unexpected for his report to be escalated.

Captain Andy quietly continued to weave his words while reviewing the contents of the report.

"From a statistical perspective, I cannot deny the arguments you presented. It’s astounding that a trainee with only six months of service could produce this. It seems that graduating at the top of the Air Hunt Academy was no fluke."

"I’m honoured."

"Indeed. You’ve worked through the night. I’ll grant you permission to use the rest area, so take a short break. I still need you to contribute a lot more."

The way Captain Andy looked at Balthazar had clearly changed. It was evident that his attitude had shifted from that of a mere trainee to treating him as a "valuable subordinate."

"…Yes, sir!"

Balthazar straightened up, feeling the praise. The rest area was usually off-limits to trainees, so receiving permission was unprecedented. This meant he had been recognized to that extent.

He understood that it would be difficult to move the operations headquarters itself. Information and operations were separate, and operational parties required decisions made after considering all angles of the situation. The "Commander’s Decision" was not something that could be made lightly from a report created by a trainee overnight. It required weighing information from intelligence agencies scattered across the Multi-Island Sea, current battle conditions, comparisons of the strengths of both the allied and enemy forces, and the status of logistical support—all crucial information had to be considered.

If information division personnel could influence the operations headquarters, it would only be when Balthazar had earned sufficient accomplishments and trust such that the Commander of Operations recognized, "If it’s Balthazar’s report, it must be correct." Only then would he have an impact on the entire St Vault military.

──This time, that report likely won’t bear fruit.

──But the section chief recognized my efforts.

──He acknowledged my existence and abilities. That’s enough for now.

Comforted by this fact, Balthazar lay down on the simple bed in the rest area. As he began to drift into sleep, the faces of his juniors living at Air Hunt Island flashed through his mind once more.

The roar of the atmosphere was beginning to transform into that of a ferocious beast.

From afar and near, a high-pitched sound, like metal being sliced, echoed as the wind's scythe twisted in reverse.

Since around sunset, the street trees had started to rustle. The current time was 9:30 PM. The violent storm front seemed to be approaching, and the wind was growing increasingly fierce.

Listening to the sounds of the typhoon beyond the curtains, in the Air Hunt Officer Academy's student dormitory, four students—Kiyoaki, Reiner, Cecil, and Illia—were lounging as usual in their specially assigned officer's room, "The Seven of Eriadore."

"Typhoons are so boring. We can't go outside. Cecil, make us something to eat."

Reiner, sprawled lazily on the sofa, ordered Cecil, who was sitting across from him.

"I don’t want to. I’m busy right now."

Without looking up from her fashion magazine, Cecil replied coldly.

"You’re not busy! What’s with that magazine? It’s stupid and pointless. Stop worrying about those mindless drivel and make us food."

"Shut up! Just make it yourself! You can make salt pasta, salt bread, or salt rice balls, right? You know how to cook those!"

"I can, but that’s just sprinkling salt. I want something proper, so if you can't do it, Illia, can you make something?"

Next to Cecil, Illia was cleaning her swordsmanship equipment with a cloth.

"No."

Without even considering it, she dismissed the request. Reiner sighed dramatically and turned to Kiyoaki, who was beside him.

"Kiyoaki~. You're my last hope."

Kiyoaki smiled with a troubled expression.

"What do you want to eat?"

"A katsudon from Mio."

"You’ll need to call Mio then."

"She probably won’t come anyway."

"If you call her, she might."

When Kiyoaki said this, Reiner made a strange face.

"What’s that supposed to mean? You should be the one to call her."

"…It’s not possible. You seem to be able to communicate better with Mio than I do right now."

Kiyoaki said this with a self-deprecating smile.

Reiner looked at Kiyoaki suspiciously, then sighed again.

"Fine. You wait here. I’ll go call Mio. I’m hungry."

Reluctantly getting up from the sofa, Reiner left the officer's room.

Left behind, Illia, Cecil, and Kiyoaki exchanged glances.

"He went to call her, but… Mio probably won’t come, right?"

"That’s unlikely… It’s been almost six months since she’s been here."

"…It’s unusual for Reiner to go out of his way to call Mio. Especially in this weather."

At Illia's words, both Kiyoaki and Cecil nodded. Reiner, who usually lounged on the sofa and talked nonsense, was taking initiative for once. It was a rare occurrence.

"Is it because of the typhoon that he’s acting differently?"

"He’s not a timid person… But I hope Mio comes…"

Kiyoaki murmured, looking toward the curtains. The roar of the wind was growing stronger.

Reiner exited the student dormitory, donning a raincoat, and headed for the library. He knew that Mio, who had nowhere to go in the girls’ dorm or the officer's room, often spent her time there alone.

Battling the rain and wind, he finally reached the library. Upon entering and shedding his raincoat, he found Mio sitting alone at a six-person table, studying.

At this hour and in this weather, Mio was the only student in the library. She appeared to be submerged beneath the sound of the rain. Reiner approached her confidently and sat across from her.

"…What is it? Another lecture?"

Without looking at Reiner, Mio was drawing red lines in her navigation manual.

Reiner exhaled through his nose and began to lecture her.

"Engage with others. Just normally."

"I can’t."

"Shut up. Just do it. It’s not just for you, but for your family too."

"It has nothing to do with you."

"It does. If you keep acting suspiciously and end up getting caught, I’ll get dragged down with you. If you were interrogated, you’d spill everything in an instant, right? It’s a hassle for me."

"I won’t talk."

"You will. Don’t underestimate torture. You wouldn’t last five minutes. For you, not being suspected is the most important thing. And yet, you’re always acting suspiciously without a care for how I feel…"

"……………………"

Mio maintained a stoic expression, ignoring Reiner's lecture. Naturally, Reiner felt irritated.

“Listen. I’m saying this for your sake. Be grateful.”

“……………………”

Mio’s attitude remained unchanged. Reiner added a serious tone to his voice.

“This is a special service. I’m going to teach you something incredibly important. You can ignore it, but you’ll regret it.”

“……………………”

“Tomorrow, when the typhoon clears, the situation will change.”

“…?”

Mio lifted her gaze from her manual, looking at Reiner with suspicion.

“I can’t say more. You wouldn’t want to know anyway. But think of today as your last normal student life. You will never return to your everyday life again.”

“…What do you mean? …What does that mean?”

“You don’t need to know. But it won’t hurt to listen. Spend tonight with the others. Got it?”

It was Reiner Beck's words, not Hachidori's.

“…What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I’m asking if you got it.”

It seemed questions were prohibited. Mio felt a bit pressured and looked at Reiner’s expression, waiting for it to soften, but there was no sign of that happening.

She felt defeated.

“…If you’re going to insist… I guess I can go.”

Her intuition told her to follow Reiner.

“Great. Just make something to eat and come back. That’s all.”

Maintaining his serious expression, Reiner nodded, and the two of them left the library together.

The roar of the wind and rain was intense. If they let their guard down, they might be thrown to the ground. The streetlight’s glow faintly illuminated Reiner’s back.

Mio threw another question at him.

“Hey, what’s going to happen tomorrow?”

Reiner turned slightly, raising his voice.

“Listen carefully. At the right moment, I’m going to make a proposal to everyone in the officer's room. You’ll need to support it. Promise me.”

Mio looked at Reiner, puzzled. He still had a serious expression.

“Trust me. Nothing bad will come of it. You need to agree with my opinion.”

Mio didn’t understand what he was saying, but she nodded in response. For some reason, it felt right to follow Reiner’s lead now.

As soon as Mio entered the officer's room, Kiyoaki, Illia, and Cecil jumped up from the sofa as if propelled by springs.

“Mio!” “Mio…!” “Mio!”

Their voices coincidentally echoed together. Mio timidly stepped into the room.

“…It’s been a while… since I came to the officer's room.”

From behind her, Reiner popped his head in.

“Heh heh. Success! I told her there was chocolate, and she followed.”

“N-No, that’s not—”

Mio tried to deny it, but when her gaze met Reiner’s, she slumped her shoulders.

“…I guess… that’s true.”

She reluctantly agreed. Kiyoaki, anxious, said,

“Y-Yeah, whatever, just come in. I’m so glad, Mio. It’s really lonely in this room without you.”

“Oh… is that so?”

She replied curtly while awkwardly glancing around the room. Cecil and Illia cleared the centre of the sofa.

“Mio, here, come here! We don’t have chocolate, but I can buy some from the shop!”

“N-No, you don’t have to buy anything. It’s a typhoon outside. U-Um… excuse me.”

Mio awkwardly sat down on the sofa, squeezed between the two.

“Why don’t you come to the swordsmanship club too? It’s a great stress reliever.”

Illia unusually initiated a conversation.

“Ah… Yeah. I’m just officially enrolled in the swordsmanship club, though.”

“If you’re going, I want to go too! The last time I went, Kagura and Illia bullied me.”

“I didn’t bully you. I just made sure your motives weren’t impure. If it’s you, Mio, I’ll teach you more gently.”

“Um… thank you, Illia… Maybe, possibly… I hope I can go someday.”

Mio trailed off, and Reiner flashed a grin.

“Whatever, just make us food. I want to eat katsudon for the first time in a while.”

“…We don’t have the ingredients.”

In the past, Mio used to receive ingredients from her family in the Akitsu Federation, but she hadn’t received any this year. There were still some rice and miso left, but it seemed impossible to make katsudon all of a sudden.

“Oh, right. Then anything’s fine. Just make something filling!”

“...But what do you mean by ‘something’?”

“Kiyoaki, what do you want to eat? You know Mio’s cooking best.”

“Ah, no, I’m fine… Just having Mio here is good enough for me.”

At those words, Mio looked down awkwardly. Everyone was being overly considerate, which only made the atmosphere feel strange.

Reiner chuckled, trying to lighten the mood. “What’s with the stiff attitude? Kiyoaki, you’re tossing and turning in bed at night, calling out ‘Mio, Mio.’ If you were that lonely, should I leave you two alone?”

Kiyoaki’s face turned crimson in an instant.

“W-What are you saying!? I don’t talk like that in my sleep!”

“You do! Every single night, from the bottom bunk, it’s ‘Mio, Mio,’ it’s super loud. If you’re that worried, why don’t you just sleep together?”

“W-What!? No way!”

Kiyoaki and Reiner shared a dorm room, sleeping in the same bunk bed, but Kiyoaki had never heard anything like that come from Reiner’s mouth before.

Across from them, Mio was blushing furiously, looking down and hiding her face with her hair.

“No, that’s a lie! Don’t believe him, Mio! I definitely don’t talk like that in my sleep!”

“You say it every night! ‘Mio~. Mio~. Why is this happening, Mio~?’”

Reiner pouted his lips and made an exaggeratedly foolish expression to mimic Kiyoaki’s sleep talking.

Unable to hold back, Kiyoaki grabbed Reiner by the neck with both hands and started to choke him.

“That’s a lie! Don’t insult me! If you don’t stop, I’ll really choke you!”

“Ugh, hey, I’m not…! Wait, this is bad, it’s too much…!!”

“Take that back! Don’t make up stories!”

Kiyoaki’s anger was quickly diffused by Illia and Cecil, who hurriedly pulled him away from Reiner. Reiner was panting heavily, but he still had a smirk on his face.

“Wow, you went for that right away… Not bad…”

“Of course it’s not bad! You started it with that weird talk!”

“It’s just a joke, everyone knows that! I was just trying to liven things up.”

“That’s too much! Mio’s already having a hard time!”

Mio still couldn’t lift her head. Being teased like this was something neither she nor Kiyoaki could handle. Their clumsy options were either to get furious or freeze up—one of the two.

At that moment, Kiyoaki suddenly felt a piercing gaze and turned to look across the table.

He caught Illia sitting up straight, staring directly at him. As soon as their eyes met, she hurriedly shifted her gaze to Cecil.

A strange sense of discomfort brushed against Kiyoaki’s temples, but he couldn’t grasp what it was.

“Sorry, it’s my fault. I didn’t say that in my sleep, okay? Just calm down. As an apology, I’ll make you some salt pasta.”

“I don’t want that, it’s disgusting! You just sprinkled salt on pasta!”

As Kiyoaki’s frustration peaked, Mio, still with her head down, timidly raised her hand.

“Uh… I could make something? Pasta is quick to prepare.”

“Eh…?”

“...If you don’t want it, that’s fine.”

Kiyoaki stared at Mio for a moment, dazed, then hurriedly nodded.

“Y-Yeah, if Mio is going to cook, I’ll eat anything. Right, Reiner?”

“I’m good, thanks.”

“Why would you refuse now!? You were just saying you wanted katsudon, you idiot! Mio is offering to cook, so just eat it in silence!”

“Okay, okay, I was just joking, don’t get mad. And who are you?”

“Aki, you change personality when Mio’s around…”

“Ah… Okay. I’ll make a late-night snack. Illia and Cecil, what about you?”

“I’ll have a little. It’s been a while since I had Mio’s cooking.”

“Oh, then I’ll have some too! Mio’s pasta is delicious!”

Mio nodded and got up from the sofa, moving to the kitchen, familiar after a long time. She opened the lower cabinets to check that all the cooking tools were there and peeked into the refrigerator.

“Uh… I can make meat sauce quickly, though.”

Kiyoaki rushed into the kitchen.

“That’s fine! I’ll help! I’ll boil the water!”

“Ah… No, that’s okay. I can do it by myself… Just sit down.”

“Oh, really!? Uh, okay, I got it. I’ll leave it to you…”

Kiyoaki returned to the sofa, looking strangely sombre, but still glancing anxiously at Mio in the kitchen.

"Why are you acting so awkward? Just be normal. If you're too concerned, Mio will feel awkward too."

Reiner whispered to Kiyoaki, but he couldn’t calm down. It seemed like Mio was finally returning to normal, and he worried about her retreating back into her shell if something went wrong again.

Cecil also moved closer to Kiyoaki, his worried expression evident.

"Aki, just act normal. Let’s welcome her back like we always do."

“Y-Yeah…”

Kiyoaki nodded awkwardly. Some calmness returned, and he realized that Reiner had been teasing them on purpose to lighten the mood.

—That’s right. I need to be normal. Just normal. Normal…

He repeated to himself, nodding along with Reiner’s silly talk while waiting for the late-night snack. In the kitchen behind him, Mio was quietly sautéing ground meat. A delicious aroma filled the officer's room, naturally making their stomachs growl.

“Thanks for waiting… It might not be great since it’s been a while.”

Mio, with a lack of confidence, brought a large plate of pasta to the dining table.

“I don’t know how much everyone will eat, so help yourselves.”

She efficiently set out plates and forks in front of everyone.

“Okay, okay! Wow, it looks delicious!”

“Thanks, Mio! Let’s eat!”

Kiyoaki and Reiner dug in, taking big helpings from the large plate and stuffing their mouths.

“Ugh—”

“It’s delicious!”

Their faces broke into huge smiles. The rich, meaty sauce clung to the steaming pasta, filling their noses with savory aromas. As they ate, they grew hungrier, and before long, they were fighting over the pasta on the plate.

“Hey, Reiner, you’re taking too much! That’s for us too…”

Cecil complained while serving herself and Illia, twirling the pasta onto his fork and chewing happily.

“Wow, this is amazing!”

“Yeah. Mio’s cooking really stands out.”

Illia nodded as she eagerly moved on to her second helping.

"There's none left!"

Cecil gazed regretfully at the large plate, now only containing remnants of sauce. Mio hesitantly spoke up, "Um... We still have some ingredients left."

"I'll eat!" "Me too!"

Reiner and Kiyoaki reacted reflexively, and Mio silently stood up from the sofa and headed to the kitchen. A little later, she returned with another large plate, which quickly disappeared into everyone's stomachs.

"Thank you for the meal, Mio! It was really delicious!" "Thank you!" "Mio, thanks for the meal. Leave the cleanup to me."

After everyone helped clean up, they relaxed in the dining room with Mio for the first time in a while. The sound of wind and rain from outside was gradually getting stronger.

Reiner casually said while looking out the window, "They say the typhoon will pass by tomorrow morning. Did you know? After a typhoon, the debris in the air gets stirred up, and the sky looks strange."

"Ah, I've heard something like that. I haven't seen it, though."

"I think the typhoon will be gone by sunrise. If that's the case, we should probably see an amazing dawn. How about we all go to the observatory to check it out?"

With a grin, he made the suggestion. Kiyoaki, holding a cup of tea, replied, "A dawn sounds nice. I hope it actually happens. And we can't be sure the typhoon will have passed as predicted."

"It's worth seeing. If Kiyoaki, Illia, and I take our bikes, we can take Cecil and Mio along on the back. Let’s enjoy the dawn together!"

"Hmm. Sounds fun. I'm okay with it, but... what about Mio?"

Kiyoaki and Reiner glanced at Mio. She looked back at the two boys with a somewhat uncertain expression.

For a moment, Reiner's gaze towards Mio held a serious tone.

Mio remembered Reiner's words from earlier when they were caught in the rain.

"Okay... but it’s not a big deal."

She nodded awkwardly. Kiyoaki leaned forward from the sofa, surprised.

"Really!? Mio is coming!?"

"Y-yeah... If it's not a bother."

"It wouldn’t be a bother at all! Awesome! Let’s go to the observatory to see the sunrise tomorrow morning, okay? Cecil and Illia, you're in too, right?!"

"If Mio is going, I want to go too!" "I'm fine with it. I can take my bike."

Kiyoaki literally bounced with excitement.

"Wow, I can't wait! So, where do we gather after the typhoon passes!?"

"It’s a bit early to decide, but how about we meet at the parking lot at five? It’ll take about thirty minutes to reach the observatory. It’s going to be romantic for sure! I’m getting excited!"

Reiner quickly made the arrangements and confirmed with everyone. Grateful to Reiner in his heart, Kiyoaki looked forward to tomorrow’s outing without a doubt.

"Mio, let’s make lunch together!"

Cecil's cheerful suggestion made Mio nod shyly. Outside, the howling wind was intensifying, overpowering the cozy atmosphere inside.

The next morning, at five a.m.

Kiyoaki, Reiner, Illia, Cecil, and Mio gathered at the parking lot.

"There’s still a little wind, but the typhoon has passed. We should be able to see the dawn."

As Illia said, it was a quiet darkness. The sunrise was around five thirty-five, so they had plenty of time to get there.

With excitement, Reiner said, "Let’s go! Cecil, ride behind me!"

"No way! I want to ride with Illia!"

"I see! Then Mio, ride with me..."

"Mio, ride behind me."

Kiyoaki interrupted Reiner's invitation, and Mio nodded hesitantly.

"Ah... okay... Please take care of me..."

Three bikes were parked in the parking lot, each belonging to Kiyoaki, Reiner, and Illia.

Illia had also gotten her license in August and quickly bought a second-hand 400cc full-cowl bike. It was a red model that perfectly suited Illia’s competitive personality.

"Illia, you look cool..."

Mio complimented Illia as she mounted her bike. Illia nodded awkwardly for some reason and said, "I really like it. It’s fun in its own way."

"Yeah... You look great. It’s really wonderful..."

"Okay, let’s not waste time and go! I hope we get to see the moment of sunrise!"

Cecil urged, and Mio took a seat behind Kiyoaki on his bike.

"Alright, let’s go!"

After confirming that Cecil had gotten on Illia's bike, Kiyoaki kicked the starter.

Once they hit the public road, the rain had stopped, but the sky remained dark. The air was thick with moisture, and the clouds were flowing swiftly overhead. As Reiner said, the weather after the typhoon was distinctly different.

Mio's small hand rested on Kiyoaki’s side. The sensation brought back memories of that island from a month ago.

— That surely wasn’t a dream.

Kiyoaki thought.

— But Mio denies it. He couldn’t understand why.

He wanted to ask her again about that night’s events, but it felt wrong to do so, creating an itch of confusion. With that frustration, they entered the mountain road.

There were no streetlights on the desolate road. Kiyoaki relied only on the headlights as he followed Reiner. The darkness and strong wind were familiar, and he had travelled this path enough times that he felt at ease. When they passed through bumps and small curves, Mio’s body occasionally pressed against his, a feeling that was indescribably pleasant.

— I want to ride with Mio like this many more times.

— If the original Mio returned, it would feel normal.

While he was lost in thought, they reached the observatory near the mountain’s peak. It was the same spot where he had gone touring with Illia in early spring, finally meeting her smiling face.

Suddenly, those feelings from that time resurfaced.

The strong urge that had driven him to seek out Illia.

That impulse intertwined with the emotions transmitted from Mio, who was sitting behind him.

— Mio and Illia.

The two he had never once compared in his mind were now clearly overlapping.

— If someone asked me to choose between them, who would I choose?

Such doubts suddenly rose, and Kiyoaki hesitated. It was a proposition he had never considered before.

— It’s not like they're objects. I can’t choose.

Kiyoaki watched Illia park the bike in the observatory’s parking lot.

As if sensing his gaze, Illia suddenly turned to look at Kiyoaki.

Their eyes met.

Illia’s expression stiffened for a moment before she quickly averted her face and helped Cecil dismount from the back.

For some reason, a more intense emotion seemed to come from Illia than usual.

Perhaps the source of that tension was the Mio in the back seat.

— That can’t be true...

Kiyoaki thought as he turned off the engine, lowered the centre stand, and looked back at Mio.

This time, Mio's gaze met Kiyoaki's. His heart skipped a beat. Mio also awkwardly looked away and got out of the back seat.

── Somehow, everything feels so clumsy...

Feeling a confusion he had never experienced before, Kiyoaki turned his eyes to the eastern sky.

"Oh, nice! The sunrise is about to happen!"

Reiner got off his bike with a grin.

"We made it! Yes, it's before dawn! I think we can expect something amazing!"

Cecil, excited, jumped off Illia's bike and ran to the edge of the observation deck. She leaned her arms against the wooden railing meant to prevent falls and bounced up and down.

Kiyoaki, Mio, and Reiner walked over to join Cecil, resting their hands on the railing.

A warm breeze carrying the scent of the sea flowed through. The entire island was hidden in the night. Thick clouds layered in the eastern sky were drifting, and through the gaps, a hint of crimson could be seen. The typhoon had moved southeast, so the sunrise should illuminate the area just cleared by the storm.

"Those clouds are amazing! I think we'll see a breathtaking view!"

Cecil eagerly focused her gaze on the eastern sky.

Light began to spread its arms across the bottom of the sky.

The cloud ring that had been boiling on the horizon began to shine with silver light. The lights outlining the clouds started to swell. The colours of the sky visible through the gaps between the clouds deepened into a rich crimson.

"The sunrise...!"

Cecil smiled and stretched both hands toward the eastern sky.

Into her arms, a brilliant red light that had sliced through the clouds poured in.

"Wow..."

Mio let out a small voice.

"Oh, this is great!"

Reiner exaggerated his delight.

Radiating outward into the sky, multiple red beams of light exploded. The overlapped clouds took on shadows, creating a complex tapestry of colours on their surfaces. The fine dust kicked up by the typhoon refracted the morning light, draping the flowing clouds in shades of purple, red, and deep blue.

"Wow, it's beautiful...!"

Illia couldn't help but exclaim in wonder.

The colours of the eastern sky reflected on the sea. The colours wove into the waves, creating a brocade of seven colours across the surface of the ocean.

"I've never seen a sky like this..."

Kiyoaki murmured. Though he was used to the scenery from flying every day during training, he had never encountered such a display hidden in the sky.

"Wow, this is amazing!"

Cecil jumped up, her smile radiant. The view from the observation deck was usually stunning, but this was a sight that would surely penetrate to the depths of their souls—a spectacle they would never forget.

"I'm so glad we came! For Reiner's suggestion, this is quite the achievement..."

"What’s that supposed to mean? My suggestions are always spot on!"

As the brightness of the light increased, the clouds were sliced apart by the wind, and the sunrise became visible above the horizon. Kiyoaki spotted a particularly dense and large cloud among the dispersing peaks.

"That cloud looks incredible..."

Cecil turned to look at the cloud Kiyoaki pointed out.

"Is that really a cloud...? Do clouds look like that?"

Indeed, it was an unusual cloud.

It was quite flat and spread out horizontally. Yet, the density of its colour was too high for it to be a layer of clouds, and while other clouds were moving rapidly, this one remained completely still. It seemed to stand out like a blemish in the sky.

From its colour, one could sense its mass. Rather than a water vapor mass, it seemed to be a substance floating in the air.

Just as such doubts erupted...

"Look, there’s one over there too..."

Cecil pointed to the northeastern sky. Kiyoaki turned his head left about ninety degrees from the cloud he had been watching and saw another suspicious layer of cloud exactly like the first.

"No, that’s not a cloud...!!"

Illia raised her voice firmly, her expression showing clear tension.

"That’s... bad."

Reiner murmured.

Kiyoaki strained his eyes. As the sun rose, the full form of the cloud became clear.

Just as Illia said, it wasn’t a cloud. There were what appeared to be artificial structures reflecting sunlight on the flat upper surfaces, rising up in clusters.

They were unmistakably man-made structures. There was only one thing in this world that could be floating in the air like that.

"…A floating island…!!"

"Urano airborne fortress!!"

As Illia shouted, countless specks of debris were released from the surface of the flying island.

Like columns of mosquitoes, hundreds of tiny shadows gathered.

In the distance, at an altitude of about three thousand meters, numerous formations assembled, altogether becoming eight groups as they approached Air Hunt Island.

Cecil's lips trembled.

"That, that, that can’t be...!!"

"Fighters... Type 3 Idra!!"

"There are also bombers...!"

Nearly three hundred flying machines launched from the two airborne fortresses approached Air Hunt Island at an incredible speed.

The allied fighter planes standing by for interception were nowhere to be seen. Despair turned into words.

"No one has noticed!!"

"The airborne fortress was hiding in the typhoon! Radar wouldn’t detect it!"

Illia looked down at the naval port. Below her, the newly organized fleet moored in Sanjiru Bay was visible in the dawn light.

"The new ship is still anchored; it's a target!!"

Finally, distant sirens began to echo through the island. But the response was clearly too slow. The enemy aircraft were already upon them.

In the distance, a sound like distant drums shook the air. Smoke was rising from the coastal anti-aircraft gun positions. A bouquet of anti-aircraft shells was launched toward the approaching Idra formations.

The magnificent sight of the morning light was about to instantly transform into that of a battlefield. Watching the black blossoms bloom in mid-air, Cecil urged in a panic,

"The fight is about to start, but if we stay here...!!"

Reiner unusually spoke seriously.

"No, it’s better to stay here. We won't be targeted here."

Upon hearing this, Illia agreed.

"…It was a stroke of luck that we came here at this time. If we had been at school, we might have been attacked from the air. At least for us, there’s no immediate danger to our lives. We should be grateful to Reiner, even if it was by coincidence."

She said this to reassure Cecil. For the time being, the enemy's attack targets were military facilities and fuel depots. After they destroyed those, they could aim for the water supply and residential areas, along with other public facilities. However, the enemy would not waste bombs on an empty mountain observation deck. As Illia said, thanks to Reiner's suggestion to enjoy the sunrise, the five of them could safely wait here and avoid the aerial assault.

"Hey, Mio, stay put here too..."

Just as he was about to say this and turned his gaze to Mio beside him, Kiyoaki was once again shocked.

Mio had turned pale and was crouched on the ground. It seemed her legs had given out and she couldn’t stand. Sitting on the ground, her eyes were wide open, her lips drained of colour, and they trembled.

"Mio...! Are you okay? It's not scary..."

Kiyoaki thought she was trembling in fear of the Urano assault. He hurriedly crouched down to get a closer look at her. Mio was shaking all over as if facing the Grim Reaper.

From her lips, a faint voice slipped out.

"Reiner, is this what you meant...?"

"…Huh?"

"…You said our everyday lives wouldn’t return... is this what you meant?"

"Mio...?"

Mio lifted her face. Her gaze passed right by Kiyoaki and locked onto Reiner's profile a bit further away. Her voice was so small that it didn’t even reach Reiner.

"…What have I done…?"

It was clearly strange. Kiyoaki couldn't understand why Reiner was involved here. Just when it seemed like Mio was finally returning to her original self, she was about to fall back into an unusual state again.

"Mio!"

When he called out strongly, her jade-coloured eyes trembled as they looked up at Kiyoaki.

"...I didn't mean to..."

"What are you saying!? Just hang in there! If you stay here, you’ll be fine, so don’t move from this spot...!"

Encouraging Mio, Kiyoaki bent down to look up at Illia.

Illia was staring intently at the approaching squadron. Under the canopy of fighter planes, the bomber formation had moved in, clearly heading towards the new fleet that was about to dock in Sanjiru Bay.

"The enemy's targets are the new battleship and the new aircraft carrier. At this rate, we will be overwhelmed by their air power...!"

Saying this, Illia turned her gaze to Kiyoaki.

Kiyoaki could painfully feel what Illia was hoping for. And he too was becoming aware of his instincts as an airship pilot stirring within him.

—Staying here and doing nothing is out of the question.

—I will fight. For everyone living on this island.

It had been nearly a year since he transferred to the Air Hunt Officer Academy. He couldn’t just sit back and watch his friends and the kind people of the island be caught in the flames of war. He had the knowledge and skills to fight.

"Let’s go to the airfield, Illia. If we equip Gray Fox with live ammunition, we can fight."

Illia hesitated for a moment at Kiyoaki's words, but then nodded.

"Alright. Let’s go. The other three should stay here. Until the air raid is over, you must not move."

Reiner exchanged glances with Cecil before shrugging.

"Hey, are you serious? What’s a student going to do by going out there? Just stay here."

Kiyoaki leaned forward, rejecting this.

"Illia and I have the skills to operate fighter planes. We have to fight for this island."

"Are you stupid? You can’t do anything! This isn't practice; it's the real deal. And the enemy is a large military force. It’s like going to your death."

"That doesn’t mean I’m going to just watch this island get destroyed. Reiner, you protect Mio and Cecil here. We’re going."

Hearing Illia's words, Reiner scratched the back of his head with an exasperated expression.

"I'm just trying to be nice here. Well, if you want to throw your life away that badly, I won’t stop you. But if you regret it later, it’ll be too late."

His words were cold, a stark contrast to his usual self. Cecil also agreed with Reiner.

"Illia, stop. I have a bad feeling about this. This is nothing like the battles before..."

"You won't die. We’ll make it back alive. So, Cecil, you stay here...!?"

Illia's words trailed off abruptly.

Suddenly—

A massive four-wheel drive vehicle pulled up to the observation deck and screeched to a halt.

The doors swung open, and four military police officers leaped out.

"There they are, seize them!!"

"Don't move! Raise your hands! Behave yourselves!!"

Shouting, they drew their guns and pointed them at Kiyoaki and the others.

Kiyoaki couldn't comprehend what was happening before his eyes.

There were too many sudden developments for his mind to handle. Just as two airships appeared from the storm, military police burst onto the mountain observation deck, pointing their guns at them without provocation.

"W-wait, what are you doing all of a sudden...?!"

"Don't move!!"

The officers were serious. Pressured by their intensity, Kiyoaki, Reiner, Illia, and Cecil raised their hands.

Only Mio remained slumped on the ground, staring vacantly at the military police officers.

"That blonde girl, be careful! Don’t let your guard down just because she’s a girl!!"

Like they were dealing with a criminal, the officers cautiously approached Mio, their guns still aimed at her.

"Hey! That girl hasn’t done anything!!"

Kiyoaki shouted, not understanding what was happening. Mio, still with a vacant expression, looked at the surrounding officers with indifference.

"You are Mio, daughter of Ethan Syira, correct?"

".................."

"I have some questions for you. You will come with us to the police station."

Without allowing any objections, the large officers seized Mio from both sides.

Mio showed no signs of resistance. She simply bowed her head, forced to stand up.

Kiyoaki’s eyes widened in disbelief.

"W-what are you doing!?"

The officer who seemed to be the leader fixed his gaze on Kiyoaki.

"Are you a friend of Mio Syira? What were you doing here?"

"What do you mean, we just came to enjoy the view...?"

"The island is about to become a battlefield. If you all stay here, you’ll be safe. Stay put until the fighting is over, got it?"

The officer gave a short command and directed them to put Mio into the back seat of the vehicle. Kiyoaki was furious.

"Why! Mio hasn’t done anything to get captured!!"

The officer, appearing anxious, confirmed that Mio had gotten into the vehicle before addressing Kiyoaki.

"Her father was captured in Crossnodal. He was leaking information to Urano. Currently, the entire family is being detained."

"W-what...? What is that...!?"

The officer explained the situation as if trying to convince Kiyoaki.

"The Syira family is a family of spies. There are suspicions regarding Mio Syira’s involvement as well. There’s a high possibility she has been leaking information to Urano."

Kiyoaki’s mouth hung open in shock.

He couldn't comprehend the current situation with any logic. Illia and Cecil, just like Kiyoaki, could only stand there with their hands raised, unable to grasp what was unfolding before them.

"N-no, this must be a mistake...!"

"That’s impossible!!"

After confirming that Mio was secured, the officer looked up at the sky and addressed Kiyoaki and the others.

"There’s a possibility that this girl could help Urano with their landing. To prepare for the worst, we are detaining her. I understand you’re worried about your friend, but please refrain from unnecessary actions and stay here until the air raid is over. Understood?"

It seemed that the officer knew that Kiyoaki and the others, including Mio, were among the "Seven of Eriadore." He likely believed that stirring trouble with famous individuals from Air Hunt Island would disrupt operations later on, as his words included warnings and attempts to calm them.

"Once the questioning is over, we will release Mio Syira immediately. To avoid any suspicions afterward, we just need her to stay with us during the air raid. This is for her own safety as well. Understand? If you meddle further, the situation will become even more complicated. I know this doesn’t sit well with you, but until the fighting is over, please don’t stir up any trouble regarding this matter."

As soon as the officer finished speaking, a heavy rumble ran through the island.

The sound of explosions echoed against the mountain face. Looking down, they saw the bombardment of the military port had begun.

"It’s starting! Hurry up and get moving, if you dawdle, you’ll be targeted by enemy planes!"

The officer got into the passenger seat of the vehicle and urged the driver to hurry. Kiyoaki could no longer comprehend anything. He merely stared, wide-eyed, as the burning military port, the fighter planes finally taking off above the airfield, and the vehicle carrying Mio sped away from the observation deck.

His thoughts were frozen.

He didn’t understand what was happening.

"What... is this...?"

He could barely manage to mutter.

From below, the shockwaves of the bombardment rushed through. He felt a faint wave of heat in the undulating atmosphere. In Sanjiru Bay, the anti-aircraft guns were spitting flames desperately, and threading through that narrow space, the Urano bomber "Actaeon" unleashed a five-hundred-kilogram bomb upon the new battleship. The island had already transformed into a battlefield.

"W-what is going on!? How did things come to this...!?"

Cecil, unable to keep up with the situation, was at a loss and started to cry.

Even Illia, usually so composed, looked flustered and questioned Kiyoaki.

"Why was Mio captured...? What does it mean to be from a family of spies!?"

Kiyoaki could only shake his head.

"I-I don’t know... But I know this must be a mistake...! Right, Reiner? You think so too!?"

Desperately, he cast a glance at Reiner beside him.

Reiner was staring ahead down the road where the military police had vanished, his expression more severe than ever before. While everyone else was surprised and flustered, Reiner remained silent, deep in thought. After calling to him several times, Kiyoaki finally brought him back to his usual carefree self.

“Uh… Sorry. I was surprised. Um… What’s going on? Alright… let’s do this. Cecil and I will go to the police station. Illia and Kiyoaki will head to the airfield. How does that sound?”

“Eh!? Uh, um…”

“It’s a mistake. There’s no way Mio would do anything bad. Cecil and I will handle this; you guys just go to the airfield. Okay?”

“But if that’s the case, we should go to the police station too…!!”

“No, you guys have something to do. You’re going to fight to protect this island, right? If you’re going that far, I won’t stop you. Go ahead and do it. Leave Mio to us.”

Despite initially trying to stop him, Reiner suddenly began recommending that they go into combat. After a few exchanges, it was ultimately Kiyoaki who was persuaded.

“…Got it. Yeah. Illia and I can fight in the air, so… Cecil, please take care of Mio.”

“Y-Yes! I’ll testify to Mio’s innocence!”

“We’re heading to the airfield, Illia. We have to do what we can.”

“Yeah, let’s go. Cecil, wait for us. We’ll definitely come back…”

“…You two, be safe. Don’t die on me. I really don’t want that.”

“We won’t die. We’ll definitely return.”

Illia smiled reassuringly and mounted her beloved vehicle.

Ahead, the Urano air squadron was now distinguishable by type even with the naked eye. While friendly aircraft were taking off to engage, they were clearly outnumbered. In no time, flames began to erupt from various locations across the island.

The dawn’s glow was scorched by the flames of the land. Air Hunt Island, which Kiyoaki considered a second home, was now on the verge of being burned to the ground by Urano.

“I won’t let it happen…!”

Kiyoaki murmured and kicked the starter. Memories of the invasion of Messus Island four years ago surged back to him. Back then, he was powerless, watching his beloved sister get killed right in front of him. He could only weep at the sight of his burning homeland and the brutal remains of his parents.

He couldn’t bear to feel that way again. He wouldn’t let his homeland be burned twice. Now, he had the strength to fight.

──Mio’s situation is a mistake. Reiner will prove that.

──Right now, I just don’t want to lose this island, this school, and the people I care about.

──I will fight against Urano.

Carrying that single thought, Kiyoaki and Illia cut through the wind toward the airfield.

Toaru Hikuushi e no Seiyaku:V3Part3

2025-12-01T02:49:57Z

QCore:

Part 20 (Part 3 of Volume 3)

Against the vast blue sky, spring flowers of various colours were thrown up above as two Gray Foxes flew past, making explosive sounds.

Petals caught in the propeller wash danced into the May sky. The training aircraft, Gray Fox, climbed high, leaving trails like frolicking puppies.

At the airfield, all the students from the Air Hunt Academy’s aviation department were looking up at the two fighter planes with rapt attention. And they all understood that the skills of the two soaring through the sky had already far surpassed those of mere cadets.

Kiyoaki Sakagami and Illia Kreischmidt.

These two were destined to rise to the top of the multi-island archipelago.

Even the instructors observing the air combat felt a sense of awe, realizing that the two were reaching a realm far removed from the ordinary aviation students. As the raw talents of the two clashed head-on, they rapidly honed each other, radiating brilliance that was dazzling to behold. Rather than having them spar with regular students, it would make more sense for Kiyoaki and Illia to have exclusive matches for their progress. This decision by the instructors, made a month ago as they began a new mock air combat race in April, had now yielded astounding results visible in the blue sky.

And the ones feeling this progress the most were the two at the controls.

"Illia."

As if it were a habit, Kiyoaki looked up at Illia dancing in the windscreen, murmuring her name.

The green landscape of Air Hunt Island spread wide above him.

Descending at a speed of 530 kilometres per hour, Kiyoaki stared up intently, keeping his gaze fixed on Illia’s movements.

Although they fought one-on-one almost daily, he never grew tired of watching Illia's aerial ballet. Her refinement increased day by day, captivating not only those watching but also those pursuing her.

Noble and dignified, the knight of the skies danced.

—I want to embrace her.

He no longer denied or rejected the whispers of his instincts.

Transmitting the longing from the depths of his soul through the control stick and throttle, he poured all his strength into chasing after Illia, who danced like a fairy.

As he focused all his physical strength and senses on following Illia, he eventually entered a mysterious realm.

He could see even the wind being torn apart.

The sunlight bouncing off the wings scattered like droplets into the air. The wind, light, and colours felt as if they were seeping into a world different from the ground. Every cell in his body was cleansed, and his heart felt reborn, as his worries and frustrations from the ground faded away, forgotten.

If only he could keep flying like this.

—With Illia.

No thought was necessary. He just needed to communicate this longing to the Gray Fox. His beloved aircraft sensed the pilot’s heartbeat and reflected it in its aerial manoeuvres.

Like a child running through a flower field, Illia looked back at Kiyoaki, beckoning and escaping.

Kiyoaki followed her invitation. He knew a trap awaited ahead, but he was confident he could surpass it.

As the sunlight bounced off the top surface of the aircraft, Illia began a barrel roll. Perhaps unusually, she seemed to miscalculate her manoeuvre, the trajectory becoming slightly off.

—I've got this.

Kiyoaki was sure of his victory as he pursued.

But just before reaching the apex of her roll—Illia’s aircraft slid slightly.

"…?!"

It was an aerial manoeuvre he had never seen before.

As if time had stopped at that moment, Illia’s aircraft floated in the air.

Kiyoaki leaned forward.

Illia remained suspended in that one point, rotating gracefully—as if dancing in solitude—and then...

She stalled and entered a spin.

"What?"

Kiyoaki didn’t understand what was happening. The instructor’s voice came through the speakers.

“It’s a win for Sakagami, Illia! Recover!”

Illia’s plane spun around like a kite with a broken string, falling about a thousand meters. Then, she corrected her direction and regained control. Since it was just a mock air battle, she was fine, but in an actual combat situation, she would have been shot down before she could recover.

Having escaped the spin, Illia descended towards the airfield as if nothing had happened. Kiyoaki realized he had won and followed behind her.

With this, his record against Illia stood at seven wins, six losses, and four draws. For the first time, he had a winning record. While he felt satisfied, another kind of battle with Illia awaited him on the ground. Lately, he had been looking forward to that daily challenge just as much as the air battles.

The polished floor of the gym reflected the shadows of the two facing each other.

Both were clad in their uniforms, wearing men’s masks, and holding their shinai with focused eyes.

Outside the window, it was already dark. The silence after classes fell heavily upon the two.

Through their masks, they sharpened their senses to perceive everything about their opponent.

Gaze, tip of the sword, arms, footwork—everything provided clues to anticipate the next move.

Forgetting even to breathe, they concentrated solely on the opponent before them, as if they were immersed in a sweet intoxication, separated from the outside world into their own inner realm. A sense of happiness, felt only in that moment, arose from deep within the tension, and they unconsciously wished for time to stand still.

Suddenly, the surrounding atmosphere quivered.

In that instant, Kiyoaki made a big step forward.

The tip of his sword aimed for his opponent’s throat, but it was evaded. In the next moment, Illia’s sword came down from the side and struck Kiyoaki’s men.

A loud “thwack” echoed throughout the gym, breaking the silence.

The match was decided.

Kiyoaki, panting heavily, returned to the starting line and bowed.

Then he removed his mask and smiled at Illia.

“As expected, I still can’t match you with a sword.”

Illia also took off her mask. Her tied-up red hair suited her striking features very well.

“Are you saying you can beat me in the sky?”

She tightened her gaze and boldly challenged him.

At first, Kiyoaki was taken aback by her strong tone, but he had come to understand that it was Illia’s way of hiding her shyness.

The narrow gym was currently almost monopolized by the kendo club. Most students were exhausted from mandatory practices, so there weren’t many clubs still actively training after school. This kendo club was also in a position where it borrowed the names of Reiner, Cecil, and Mio just to maintain its existence, and only Kiyoaki and Illia trained diligently every day.

There was not a hint of loneliness. Kiyoaki found immense joy in spending his afternoons alone with Illia in the gym.

“That's not what I meant. But I did manage to win one against you in the sky.”

As he joked lightly, Illia became even more intense in her tone.

“Today’s loss was certainly my mistake. However, the losses before that were due to engine trouble. It wasn’t a difference in skill!”

Kiyoaki recently learned that Illia was quite competitive. And he was also figuring out how to handle her.

“That’s an excuse. It doesn’t hold up on the battlefield.”

“What are you talking about? On the battlefield, I have to look after my own aircraft! I can’t see it at school; I leave everything to the mechanics!”

When he teased her, her face turned bright red as she retorted, revealing a youthful innocence. Although Illia usually had a blank expression, she would change her gaze and become animated when the topic of the sky came up, which made Kiyoaki feel the emotional distance between them had greatly shortened.

After losing in the mock air battle, Illia would often come to Kiyoaki to ask detailed questions about her piloting. It seemed she wanted to know what kind of evasions were the most bothersome from the perspective of the one being chased. Kiyoaki was willing to engage with her, but he knew it would take a while.

“Let’s continue this in the officer’s room. I’m hungry.”

“…Got it. I’ll see you later. I have some questions I want to ask you about today’s air battle.”

Illia put on a serious face and quickly left the gym. Kiyoaki also took off his uniform, showered, and headed to the officer’s room reserved for “The Seven of Eriadore” in the student building.

A month and a half had passed since they became fourth-year students.

Kagura and Balthazar had graduated. Mio had improved a little compared to before, but she still tended to retreat into her shell. Now, only Kiyoaki, Cecil, Reiner, and Illia used the officer’s room. The days of the seven of them laughing and chatting late into the night had passed, and the officer’s room had become quite lonely.

“Good evening… Oh? Is it just you, Illia?”

When Kiyoaki entered the officer’s room in his loungewear, he found Illia sitting alone on the sofa, reading the air combat training manual.

“Yeah. Cecil was here until a moment ago, but she went back to her room because the daytime practice was tough.”

Illia replied curtly without looking up from her book.

She wore a comfortable outfit, just a T-shirt paired with sweatpants.

Recently, Kiyoaki had been seeing Illia in such casual attire more often. Apparently, she didn’t care much about clothing, so Cecil had forced her to go shopping and pick out outfits that suited her. In casual wear, her feminine figure was more apparent than it was in uniform, making Kiyoaki feel a bit flustered at times.

Oblivious to his feelings, Illia looked up from her book.

“Do you want some tea?”

“Oh, yeah, thanks.”

Illia went to the kitchen, poured tea from the pot into a cup, and roughly squeezed some lemon before placing it on the dining table.

“It’s delicious.”

Kiyoaki sat down on the sofa across from Illia, took a sip, and smiled.

“I just made it casually. I can’t compete with Mio.”

Illia blushed slightly and sat up straight on the sofa. She crossed her long legs, arms wrapped around her chest, trying to hide her overly feminine curves, and tightened her expression.

“Now, as for the reason I called you…”

Without any small talk, Illia began in a commanding tone.

“I want you to tell me how you perceived my movements just before I stalled in today’s air battle.”

Kiyoaki had suspected that question would come. What Illia had shown at that time was an unfathomable manoeuvre he had never seen before.

“I thought I had won up to the apex of your manoeuvre. Your wings were outside my sight. But then… you were suspended in mid-air for a moment.”

Illia nodded firmly.

“Yeah. I felt the same. It was as if lift and gravity had perfectly balanced out, and I was in a state of weightlessness. But even in that brief moment, I was able to control the aircraft.”

“It looked like you were spinning freely. I was leaning forward, and you seemed to be facing me while just hanging in mid-air…”

“Did it look that way? …That might be…”

Illia hesitated to speak her next words.

Kiyoaki understood the name of the manoeuvre Illia was about to mention. He also understood why she hesitated to say it.

“Karsten Turn.”

As Kiyoaki takes over the conversation, Illia shoots a piercing glance at him.

“I’ve never seen that technique either. It seems it was only possible for my father, but he would never teach it to me.”

The legendary manoeuvre that raised Illia's father, Karsten Kreischmidt, to the status of “King of the Sky.”

Its existence has been passed down orally in the St Vault Air Force, but no one has succeeded in mastering it, and it is often dismissed as a fantasy technique, much like Masaharu Sakagami’s “Snake Shot.”

Could it be that Illia’s aerial manoeuvre today was the legendary Karsten Turn?

“...The stories say that with the nose aimed at the enemy’s side, it delivers a fatal blow in one strike, but... it’s impossible. You lose your centre of gravity and can’t steer. Just like I did today, you can only stall.”

In Illia’s mind, her father Karsten is deified. The thought of grasping even a thread of his skill seems almost sacrilegious.

“If you hadn’t stalled there, I definitely would have lost.”

“Just before the stall, at that one moment when the controls shouldn’t work, there was a spot where I could steer perfectly. It felt like there was a hole in the sky where gravity was absent... If I had utilized that spot well, I could have maintained my speed while executing a minimal turn. That could allow me to circle around to the enemy’s side in one go...”

“But that’s a pretty dangerous spot, right? It’s where both stalling and disintegration could occur, right? If you had pitched up there, I think you would have disintegrated in mid-air.”

“Yeah. I could feel through the control stick that the aircraft was at its limits. But perhaps the greatest manoeuvres exist in the most dangerous places for an airman...”

Illia ponders this. Kiyoaki, too, is intrigued at the thought of mastering such a technique.

“Snake Shot” and “Karsten Turn.”

If he could master these two techniques, it would no longer be a dream to shoot down Karnasion, the super ace who killed his sister, right before Kiyoaki’s eyes.

After a long silence, Illia lifts her serious expression.

“...I want to try it. It’s worth it. I might get yelled at by the instructor, but... I want to ask for your cooperation.”

“Of course. So we just need to recreate today’s situation, right?”

“Yeah. I’ll be fleeing while you pursue me. After entering a diagonal loop, I want to try a few manoeuvres. I think the adjustment of the foot bar will be the key...”

“Sounds good. But I think while we’re doing that, you might end up losing more.”

“I don’t mind. The results of mock air combat don’t interest me. What matters more is experiencing a high-difficulty manoeuvre now. Plus, if I can master the Karsten Turn, I can catch up quickly.”

Illia states this a bit angrily. The determination on her face is cute, and Kiyoaki finds himself wanting to see more of her expressions, teasingly saying something mischievous.

“You’re asking me nicely, huh? I guess I’ll have to cooperate. But actually, I have a few things I want to try as well.”

“What’s that? Do you have complaints? I wouldn’t mind hearing your requests if you have any.”

“Really?”

“I’m saying I’d listen. Do you think I would lie? If you have something to ask, just say it, and I’ll help if I can.”

“Oh, really? Then what should I do...?”

Kiyoaki contemplates.

What does he want to ask Illia now?

──I want to see her smile.

He thinks of this immediately. Recently, Illia has been showing a variety of expressions, but he has yet to see her smile.

Even when they crossed cumulonimbus clouds in the Eriadore, or when she succeeded in a night landing, or after winning the mock air combat last year, Illia only slightly relaxed her expression but never showed a smile.

──I want to make Illia laugh.

However, just asking her to “smile” probably wouldn’t work. It wouldn’t mean anything to see a forced smile; he wants to see Illia’s true smile, one born from genuine happiness.

That’s right.

“I got my license in April and bought a used bike. I ride it when I go out, but I’ve never had anyone on the back before. I’d like to practice riding with someone on the back.”

“...Me? On the back of your bike? Just sit there?”

“Yeah. We’ll just ride around the island. Easy, right?”

Illia exhales lightly, relieved, apparently expecting a more demanding request.

“That's a cheap request. Is that all? I feel a bit guilty.”

“Oh, really? Then... come in casual clothes! I want you to wear casual clothes!”

Even on her day off, Illia walks around the island in military uniform, showing no hint of femininity for a girl her age. She must have some casual clothes that Cecil made her buy, but no one has seen her wear them.

“Casual clothes, huh... I have some, but I’ve never worn them. Cecil picked them out for me, and there’s never been an opportunity to wear them.”

“Then wear them! Casual clothes, this Sunday at ten o'clock at the parking lot, okay?”

As he urges her with enthusiasm, Illia looks slightly perplexed but nods awkwardly.

“...Alright. If that’s all it takes... I’ll go along with it.”

──A date with Illia!

Kiyoaki barely manages to restrain himself from jumping for joy, nodding back at her with a usual smile.

“Thanks! I’ll be careful not to fall. I’ve never had anyone on the back before.”

“A bike, huh... I’ve never ridden one before, but...”

Illia murmurs while looking up at the ceiling, appearing somewhat doubtful.

Two days later, on a sunny Sunday in May.

Kiyoaki waits for Illia in the parking lot, straddling his beloved bike and warming up the engine.

It’s a blue 250cc bike. He just bought it a month ago, and whenever he has free time on weekends, he rides it around the island for no particular reason.

Dressed in a long-sleeved shirt and jeans, he waits with a fluttering heart when, precisely at the promised time, Illia arrives.

“W-Wait, did I keep you waiting?”

She greets him, looking uncomfortable and turning her face away.

Surprisingly, Illia has done her makeup. Her eyelashes are standing tall, her eyes are accentuated with eyeliner, and her lips are lightly tinted with red.

Kiyoaki beams at her.

“You look great! It really suits you!”

“...Cecil did it. When I told her I was going out with you on the bike, she got all excited... and made me wear this outfit along with the makeup.”

Illia looks down with uncertainty, glancing at her appearance.

A thin white shirt that is slightly see-through. Black slim pants that cling to her legs, and short boots adorned with silver accessories. Both the shirt and pants fit Illia's body perfectly, exuding a refined elegance and a hint of allure.

“You look great! Way cooler than in military uniform!”

“...It's too constricting. The military uniform is much more comfortable.”

Though Illia seems reluctant, the way she is fully dressed up makes her look more like a fashion model than a cadet officer.

──She really is incredibly beautiful...

Kiyoaki knows this, but reaffirming the fact sends his heart racing.

Hiding his pounding heart, he hands Illia a silver half-helmet.

“Okay, please just sit on the back. It’s nice out today, so it’ll definitely feel good.”

Illia casually gathers her hair into a ponytail with a rubber band, puts on the helmet, fastens the chin strap, and mutters softly.

“I don’t know how to get on.”

Though Illia is invincible in the sky, her knowledge of life on the ground is less than that of an average person. In the back seat of the bike, she just needs to hold onto the tandem grips at both sides of the seat. But that would be such a waste of a rare opportunity.

“Tandem riding can be dangerous if we don’t move as one. If you move strangely, we might lose our balance and fall. So, while we’re riding, try to stick as close to me as possible.”

He requests this with utmost seriousness.

This isn’t a lie. There are ways to hold onto the grips, but he simply hasn’t explained them. Justifying to himself internally while looking at Illia, she awkwardly nods.

“Okay, so I just need to stick close to you.”

“Yeah. The faster we go, the closer you can stay, the better.”

There’s no real necessity for this, but at least it’s not a lie.

“Got it. I’ll do my best. I hardly ever ride anything other than airships...”

Illia always studies on her days off, so she rarely goes out to have fun. Like a student who humbly seeks guidance from a teacher, she accepts his straightforward request with a sincerity that feels almost pure.

“Ready?”

“Yeah.”

Illia straddles the back seat with her long legs, awkwardly grasping the hem of Kiyoaki’s shirt.

“Is this okay?”

“Yeah, that’s about right.”

This is Kiyoaki's first time actually carrying someone on the back. He resolves to avoid any accidents as he steps on the gear pedal.

The engine’s roar is quite mild compared to an airship. Illia silently holds the hem of Kiyoaki’s shirt tightly.

They start off slowly, merging onto the public road. The roads on Air Hunt Island are remarkably quiet, with only occasional military vehicles passing by.

With each gear shift, the wind picks up. Illia grips the hem of his shirt even tighter.

Turning his head back, he asks, “The wind feels nice, right?”

“Yeah.”

In the cockpit of an airship, this wind cannot be felt.

“I’m going to speed up. Hold on tight!”

“Okay!”

As he kicks the pedal and shifts to fifth gear, Illia’s arms wrap around Kiyoaki’s waist.

Illia’s warmth and softness radiate against his back. Like a child obeying orders, Illia clings tightly to him.

His heart races. Looking back again, he asks, “Are you scared?”

“Nope.”

Though she puts on a brave face, her voice is a bit tense. The road signs whizzing by in an instant, the large vehicles that suddenly appear from around bends, the body tilting dramatically with each curve—everything is a unique experience of being on the ground.

As they ride, Illia grips him tighter. It feels like her heartbeat syncs with his through his back. He can even discern the differences between her firm and soft areas.

──Illia...

The faster he goes, the closer she feels. The warmth, softness, and breath he feels from her stir his emotions.

“Illia.”

That emotion becomes a call of her name.

“Yeah?”

Illia responds softly, still firmly attached to him.

“Are you scared?”

He throws out the same question like a child.

“I’m not scared.”

Despite her words, her hands around his waist tighten.

──Please let today not end...

Holding onto such a childish wish, he makes a full loop around the island and stops at the Cross Cape.

“Great job! Let’s take a break.”

As he smiles at her, Illia dismounts and removes her helmet. Her cheeks are slightly flushed as she says,

“I don’t really understand how to maintain balance.”

“You were completely fine. Thanks to you, I’ve gotten the hang of it.”

“Really? I’m glad to be of help then.”

Illia nods with a serious expression before hesitating, as if she’s gathering her courage.

“Isn’t it a bit improper to ride like that? I mean, being so close…”

“No, not at all! That’s the safest way!”

Kiyoaki is surprised by how much strength he puts into his words.

“...Is that so? Well, if it doesn’t bother you, then I don’t mind…”

Illia trails off, her gaze turning to the ocean.

This is one of the tourist spots on Air Hunt Island. From the edge of the cape, which rises about thirty meters above the sea, they can look down at the vast ocean and the distant Air Hunt Port. Below, the rocks form a diamond shape, with the seawater that seeps into the narrow gaps creating a cross shape, giving the Cross Cape its name.

A dozen or so tourists are throwing something toward the cross. Illia watches their figures with a suspicious look. Kiyoaki smiles and says,

“They say if you throw a pesos coin from here and it lands in the cross, your wish will come true.”

“Is that so?”

"Last year, Reiner threw something in there. He was praying for something. He was vague about what he wished for, though."

"…Reiner, huh. I see."

Illia nodded deeply for some reason and took a one-peso coin from her wallet. It seemed she was determined to give it a try.

"It's pretty difficult, you know."

"Yeah, I figured."

She aimed carefully and threw the coin.

The coin struck the rock surface.

"How many did Reiner throw?"

"He hit it on his second try. That guy is surprisingly skilful in strange ways."

Without changing her expression, Illia took out her second coin, aimed, threw, and missed again.

Biting her lip in frustration, she threw the third and fourth coins, but they also missed.

"It's tough, right? I won’t do it since it's a waste of money."

After missing the fifth coin, Illia peeked into her wallet. There were no more coins left. With a disappointed expression, she pulled out a ten-peso bill.

"Change it for me."

"You said it's a waste. Let’s just give up."

"…It’s frustrating. If Reiner can do it, why can’t I? I can’t accept that."

She seemed quite competitive even outside of airships. To calm Illia, who looked like she might stomp her feet in frustration, I gazed out over the sea and stretched my arms overhead.

"It feels nice. Sometimes this kind of thing is good, right? Studying is important, but you also need a change of pace."

Illia looked in the same direction as me, closed her eyes, and breathed in the salty sea breeze.

"Yeah. The wind feels nice. It makes me feel relaxed..."

As she spoke, her tone and expression were softer than usual. Her red hair, swaying in the wind, vividly contrasted with the colours of the sky and sea.

Suddenly, Illia squinted at a corner of the sky. Her tone turned serious again.

"A Flag Ship… It’s a ship type I’ve never seen before."

In the distance, to the southeast, there were silhouettes of an airship fleet. Two large airships formed the centre of a spherical formation, cruising offshore from Air Hunt Port. Judging by the shape of the upper deck, they appeared to be aircraft carriers rather than battleships.

"Last time, there was a new type of battleship here too. This place has completely turned into a fleet relay base."

"Yeah. It seems the navy has been preparing for the southern archipelago conquest for a while now. A lot of new ships with landing gear equipment have arrived..."

Illia was fascinated, unable to take her eyes off the air carrier. In the distant sky, she stared intently at the movements of the carrier-based aircraft taking off from the upper deck.

"I want to see them land. I hope they land soon..."

Although the atmosphere had been pleasant, Illia’s focus was completely consumed by the airships. They stood there for about an hour, witnessing everything from the launching to the landing of the carrier’s aircraft, and Illia nodded in satisfaction.

"I learned a lot. This is a view you can’t see if you don’t leave the school."

"We’ll be doing offshore landing training in the summer too, right? Even just watching was a good preview."

"Yeah. It’s a training that can result in casualties. I wanted to gather as much information as possible beforehand."

In three months, in August, the fourth-year students would embark on a long ocean voyage for carrier landing training. The most challenging aspect of piloting airships is landing on an aircraft carrier. To land on the narrow and short deck while other colleagues wait in the air requires considerable skill.

But right now, I wanted to forget about those tense discussions.

More than anything, I wanted to see Illia as a teenage girl.

"Shall we head back soon? I want to try climbing the mountain path next."

"Hm? Oh, right. We were training for two people."

"There’s a diner at the top of the mountain. Let’s grab something to eat."

"Dining out, huh? That sounds nice for a change."

“Since it's a mountain road, hold on tight so you don’t get thrown off.”

“Got it. I’ll do my best.”

Illia readjusted her helmet and straddled the back seat again.

Kiyoaki emerged onto a rural public road. Until now, he had been traveling along well-maintained coastal highways circling Air Hunt Island, but now he entered a mountain road in the island's central region. The path was narrow and winding, with the surface bare earth and uneven.

The mountains were filled with greenery and sunlight.

The breath of the trees dyed both sides of the road in vibrant green, and the branches overhead intertwined as if traveling through an emerald tunnel. Sunlight filtered through the green canopy, sparkling like powdery snow as it poured down onto Kiyoaki and Illia.

As they dashed through the pale green layers, the scent of earth and fresh foliage filled their chests to the brim. It felt as if the mountain were smiling down at them, a landscape only seen from the ground, not from the sky.

“It feels great!”

“Yeah.”

Illia's response was livelier than usual.

With the light-dappled road ahead, Kiyoaki pressed the accelerator.

The poor road condition caused violent vibrations. At times, the vehicle even lifted off the ground. Each time, Illia's slender hands gripped tightly. The traffic was nearly non-existent, with no oncoming cars, as if they were swimming alone in a sea of green.

Suddenly, the left mountainside dropped away, revealing a view of the sea. Before they knew it, they had exceeded an altitude of one thousand meters, and the vast ocean sparkled below them, reflecting the sunlight.

“Wow, it’s beautiful.”

Illia exclaimed in awe. Although she should be used to views from this height, the scenery while rushing along the ground felt different.

“Yahhooo!”

When Kiyoaki shouted toward the sea, Illia didn’t shout along but leaned her cheek against his back. She gazed at the ocean like a child hugging her favourite pillow and engrossed in a picture book.

Illia trusted Kiyoaki's driving, surrendering her body to him. Just that filled Kiyoaki with happiness, saturating his entire being with new energy.

──Illia, how cute... Why is she so adorable?

He reflected on this deeply. Though she seemed tough and quiet, beneath that mask lay an innocent, almost naive girl.

──If only we could keep driving like this forever...

As another childish desire arose, his stomach growled. It was already past one in the afternoon. Ahead, he spotted a diner he often visited, and he reluctantly began to slow down.

“Here. The cheeseburgers are delicious.”

“Really?”

The large store, resembling a log cabin, had no customers inside, making it just for the two of them. He ordered two cheeseburgers, two sodas, and a potato salad from the familiar female owner and settled into a window-side seat.

The view from the window opened up to the sight of the mountains leading to the sea. Under the May sunlight, the fluffy clouds, ocean, and mountains created a vibrant contrast of white, blue, and green that lifted his spirits.

“It’s calming. What a nice view.”

Illia, sitting across the wooden table, gazed softly out the window. He sensed that she might smile with just a little more encouragement, but that smile didn’t seem likely to come easily. Searching for a topic that would please her, all he could think of were aircraft stories.

After talking about the aviation department for a while, the owner placed a basket on the table. Illia looked puzzled.

“It’s pretty big. I don’t think I can finish it.”

The cheeseburger, as rumoured, came wrapped in partially opened paper. It was stuffed with lettuce, onion, rich cheese, and a thick hamburger patty, standing nearly fifteen centimetres tall—definitely too large for a girl to bite into all at once.

“You squeeze it with the wrapper to make it smaller and eat it. Don’t worry about manners; just open wide and eat.”

To demonstrate, Kiyoaki took the hamburger with both hands, pressed it down with the wrapper to make it more manageable, opened his mouth wide, and took a big bite of the top bun and ingredients.

He chewed; cheeks puffed out like a squirrel. The juice from the freshly cooked hamburger mixed with the gooey cheese, and the crispness of the lettuce and the refreshing onion added to the experience, making a smile involuntarily rise on his face. The contrast of flavours from all the ingredients, including the bun, was nothing short of an artwork.

Watching this, Illia awkwardly lifted her own hamburger. She stared at it with an expression of curiosity, like observing a rare creature, and then squeezed it from both sides. Looking up at Kiyoaki with uncertainty, she opened her mouth and attacked the upper bun.

“Brrt.”

With a strange noise, lettuce, onion, and rich cheese spilled out from the bun. A half-hearted opening caused this mishap.

“Mmm.”

Issuing another odd groan, Illia's eyes darted around as she pulled her face away from the burger. She chewed awkwardly, with cheese stuck to the tip of her nose. Kiyoaki struggled to hold back laughter while observing her. After she finally managed to swallow, her eyes widened.

“It’s delicious!”

She exclaimed in surprise, gazing at the nearly crumbled burger.

“It’s hard to eat, but it’s really good.”

“Glad to hear it. How you eat it doesn’t matter, as long as it tastes good to you.”

“Really? It’s difficult. The filling keeps spilling out.”

Perhaps she was just very hungry; with cheese still on her nose, Illia continued to approach the burger while mumbling. Relieved that she seemed to enjoy it, Kiyoaki also dove back into his meal.

“I finished it all!”

Holding up the empty wrapping, Illia looked astonished at her own feat. Cheese still clung to the tip of her nose.

“Good. I thought you wouldn’t eat something like this.”

“This is my first cheeseburger. But it’s really good. I think I can eat it a bit better next time.”

“Yeah. Let’s come again. And here.”

He handed her a tissue, but Illia looked puzzled. When Kiyoaki laughed and poked his own nose with his finger, she squinted at him before applying the tissue.

“Oh…”

She stared at the cheese stuck to the tissue, bewildered. Then, with a hint of embarrassment, she furrowed her brows.

“…Was it there the whole time?”

“It seems to have gotten there on the first bite.”

“…How mean. You should have told me right away.”

After wiping around her mouth with another tissue, Illia shot him a light glare.

“Were you watching and laughing?”

“I wasn’t laughing. I thought it would be fine to wait until you finished eating.”

“That’s a lie. You were definitely laughing.”

“I really wasn’t.”

He laughed as he denied it, but Illia, feeling a bit embarrassed, wiped her nose with the tissue again.

“You’re a liar. You look harmless like a rabbit at first glance, but you’re actually mean. A black rabbit.”

Saying that, she broke into a shy smile.

──She smiled…!

Though it wasn’t a full-blown grin, it was a face he had never seen before. While mentally doing a victory pose, Kiyoaki served up some potato salad.

“A black rabbit? Is that my nickname? I like it. It’s cute.”

“It sounds like a villain from a fairy tale. It suits you perfectly.”

“Hehe. Since you gave me that nickname, I’ll cherish it. So, can you still eat?”

“Yeah. I can eat slowly.”

Illia gazed down at the served potato salad with sparkling eyes, like a child. Perhaps because she had only eaten in the student cafeteria at the Air Hunt Academy since enrollment, this meal felt new to her.

As she washed down the salad with soda, Kiyoaki relaxed and talked about trivial things.

“Riding a bike is nice sometimes, right? The scenery flows by, and the wind feels good. It’s a different kind of enjoyment from flying.”

Illia poked at the potatoes with her fork.

“Yeah. Since there are objects on the ground, the sensation of speed feels faster than in an aircraft. The bumps and curves in the road are also things you don’t find in the air, and you probably need to maintain focus while cruising.”

Kiyoaki decided to test the waters.

“Do you want to try drive one for yourself?”

A new light shone in Illia’s eyes.

“Just a little.”

Hearing the roar of the internal combustion engine must have made her want to try riding. Kiyoaki sensed a certain anticipation in her demeanour, as if she had been waiting for him to say that.

“I practiced with Reiner at first. I was able to ride in about an hour. You can practice in the parking lot over there, do you want to give it a try?”

“…Is that okay?”

“Of course. It’s fine. Hey, Miss, can we practice riding bikes in the parking lot?”

When Kiyoaki asked, the kind owner smiled brightly.

“Use it as you like. There’s no one here, so it’s fine. I’d be honoured if a future ace pilot used it.”

Since last year’s mock air battle, Kiyoaki and Illia had become celebrities on Air Hunt Island. The owner seemed to recognize Illia from a newspaper or something.

“Thank you! Come on, Illia, we can use it!”

Illia glanced at Kiyoaki and relaxed her cheek tension just a bit.

“Well then, just a little.”

“Yeah, yeah! If it’s Illia, you’ll be able to ride it in no time. It’s easy compared to an airship!”

“We won’t be going on public roads. Just a bit of practice in that parking lot over there.”

Saying this, Illia quickly finished the remaining salad and gulped down her soda.

“Thanks for the meal! Now, let me use it for a bit.”

“Sure! Come back again!”

After splitting the lunch bill and thanking the owner, they headed to the diner’s parking lot. The spacious lot could accommodate thirty cars, but only the owner’s vehicle was parked there.

“Alright, get on. We’ll start from turning on the engine.”

“Okay.”

Illia obediently got on and learned how to operate the bike from Kiyoaki, starting the engine.

“The gear is the pedal, and the throttle is on the right grip, right?”

“Wait, you know that?”

“I was watching you ride. I wasn’t just admiring the scenery.”

“Impressive. Do you understand the clutch?”

“It’s either the right or left lever... it’s the left. The right one is the brake.”

“Maybe you won’t need much practice. Stepping on the pedal puts it in first gear, and lifting your toe changes the gear up.”

“Got it. I want to get a feel for the engine output first.”

With a firm voice, Illia removed the centre stand, engaged the clutch, and started moving in first gear.

“Whoa, whoa!”

She let out a cheerful voice as she wobbled and started moving. It was only natural she couldn’t ride smoothly right away, and she seemed a bit unsteady.

“Go for it, Illia!”

I waved my hand encouragingly from behind her.

“Don’t mock me!”

Without even looking back, Illia shot back while unsteadily navigating. It seemed she was embarrassed to have her lack of skill on display. However, since she was used to piloting an airship, her riding gradually became smoother.

“Gear change!”

I announced loudly, and Illia shifted to second gear. Suddenly, the bike jolted, but she adjusted the throttle and stabilized it.

“Great, great!”

As Kiyoaki clapped, Illia zoomed around the parking lot, shouting, “Gear change!” as if communicating with a mechanic. I wasn’t sure, but it might have been a way to hide her embarrassment. This time, she accelerated without jolting and began to execute beautiful circular manoeuvres proudly.

“How about that!”

Like a cowboy who just tamed a wild horse, Illia looked at Kiyoaki with a vibrant expression.

“You're amazing, Illia! So cool!”

When I praised her, her face brightened. It wasn’t a full smile, but it was the happiest I had ever seen her.

“I’ve got the hang of it! I understand the basics now!”

After going around the lot about five times, she slowed down and stopped next to Kiyoaki, her eyes sparkling with joy. Once she grasped the changes in engine output with gear shifts, it wouldn’t be too hard for Illia.

“Yeah, at this rate, if you ride for another hour, you’ll have it completely down. You really are incredible; you might get your license in no time.”

“A bike license, huh... I’m starting to want one. Can I ride a bit more?”

“Of course! Ride as much as you want until you’re satisfied.”

“Thank you! It’s fun once you get the hang of it. I’m getting greedy.”

Her eyes sparkled as she looked out at the scenery. Kiyoaki had a hunch about what Illia would do an hour later.

“Let’s speed up!”

An hour later, while speeding down the public road at eighty kilometres per hour, Illia shouted to Kiyoaki in the back seat.

“Um, maybe it’s better to follow the speed limit...”

“Hold on tight! I’m getting the hang of cornering!”

Trembling, Kiyoaki wrapped his arms around Illia’s waist. He felt happy being so close to her, but at the same time, there was fear.

The gear shifted up. The engine roared. The trees blurred into lines and soon became a green curtain.

Ahead, a large curve approached.

The bike tilted significantly. A strong centrifugal force pressed him against the opposite side.

Illia scraped her left knee against the ground as she navigated through the curve.

“Haha! How about that? Not bad, right?!”

She laughed triumphantly. Kiyoaki resigned himself to fate, clinging tightly so as not to hinder Illia’s driving.

Normally, being this close would confuse or anger Illia, but it didn’t seem to bother her now. It appeared that like Kiyoaki, she transformed when gripping the handlebars.

She skilfully maneuverer through the difficult series of hairpin turns, smoothly accelerating down the slope.

Soon...

“The sea!”

Illia exclaimed with joy. They had reached the coastal road after descending the narrow mountain path.

Suddenly, the horizon opened up in a brilliant blue, the lanes widened, and the sun poured down in a straight line. The sense of liberation pushed her to open the throttle even more.

At double the legal speed, Illia sped along the coastal road. If they were caught, it could mean expulsion. However, Kiyoaki remained silent, content to be a passenger.

“Let’s go around again!”

“Go ahead.”

After completing one lap around Air Hunt Island, Illia was still not satisfied. She made a second lap, a third lap, riding her steel steed like a knight of old, never tiring.

Eventually, they reached an observation deck near the mountain summit. The crimson sun was already painting the sea a deep red.

“Ah, that was fun! Riding on the ground is interesting too; the wind feels great!”

Illia said with satisfaction, stretching her arms up while gazing down at the sprawling Air Hunt Island. The thin shirt she wore clung to her sweat-drenched body. Kiyoaki’s hands, which had been wrapped around her waist the whole time, were also damp.

“Good job! You’re amazing; you might even be better than me now.”

“That’s not true. There are still things I haven’t completely grasped. But yeah, once I get a little more used to it, I want to race and see who’s faster.”

Turning to Kiyoaki, Illia said this.

“I don’t want to race. I’d rather ride slowly together.”

When Kiyoaki proposed this, Illia momentarily wore a distant expression.

“Is that so? That sounds like you. Racing would be more exciting.”

Then she smiled.

“But that could be nice too. A leisurely ride together on a day off. That doesn’t sound bad.”

It was the first time Kiyoaki saw Illia smile.

The innocent girl’s smile had been hidden beneath the iron mask she wore every day.

If he took three steps forward, extended his arms, and hugged Illia as he had done from the back seat of the bike, how would she react?

Such thoughts surged strongly, breaking free from reason.

“Hmm? What’s wrong?”

Illia smiled, tilting her head slightly.

“N-No, it’s nothing.”

Coming back to himself, Kiyoaki hurriedly denied it. Illia laughed mischievously.

“You had a funny face. You make interesting expressions.”

“R-Really? I didn’t notice.”

“If there was a mirror, I’d show you. You had a spaced-out look.”

Illia turned away again, holding her hair against the wind as she looked down at the fading Air Hunt Island.

He called out to her back.

“Hey, Illia.”

“Yeah?”

"Can I invite you again?"

Illia looked back at me once more, her expression a bit stiff.

But…

"Sure."

She smiled innocently.

"I want to eat a cheeseburger again. And I want to run on the beach. In the summer, the wind will feel even better. I'm looking forward to it."

Against the backdrop of the sunset, Illia's smile pierced deep into Kiyoaki's heart, more precisely than ever before, like an arrow that could never be pulled out again.

From the centre that was pierced, ripples spread out, coursing through Kiyoaki's insides. Everything that had been submerged until now was washed away, as something new began to fill the surface of his heart.

—I want to make Illia mine.

—Mine alone.

His heart whispered that against its will. Unless that desire was fulfilled, the heart that had been pierced would continue to bleed. While watching the fading sunset and Illia, Kiyoaki felt that instinctively.

When they returned to the parking lot of the Air Hunt Officer Academy, the sun had already set, and the gas lamps on the campus were lit. He turned off the engine and removed his helmet.

"Thank you for today; I really had fun."

"Me too. It was such a nice distraction. I haven't had this much fun in a while."

Illia, looking soft and gentle, seemed like a different person from before. It felt a bit wasteful to part ways like this, so Kiyoaki searched for words, glancing into the empty space, when he suddenly felt something was off.

"Huh…?"

He thought he saw someone beyond the parking lot's fence, in the trees, looking this way. But straining his eyes into the dark, he saw no one.

"What’s wrong?"

"Oh, it's nothing…"

He brushed it off and turned back to Illia, smiling. It was probably just his imagination.

"…Well then… goodnight. Let's go again next time."

"Yeah. Goodnight. I broke a good sweat; I think I’ll sleep well tonight."

They waved lightly to each other before parting ways.

As Illia walked alone towards the girls' dorm, she savoured the events of the day, slowly chewing over them.

Embarrassment, happiness, warmth, and shyness swirled inside her, and for some reason, it transformed into warmth, making her steps light. This was her first experience like this. Her heart's workings, which didn't go as she wished, were frustrating yet oddly pleasant.

She could still feel Kiyoaki's hands on her stomach and back.

Under normal circumstances, she would have felt repulsion at being that close to a man, but today, she didn’t feel even the slightest bit of that. Rather, a part of her even wished for it to happen more strongly. It was a shameful and indecent thought, yet she was also surprised at herself for feeling this way.

"Sakagami."

Walking, she whispered his name to herself.

"Kiyoaki."

Calling his first name, she indulged in the pleasure of it. If someone saw her, they might think she was suspicious, but the campus was dark and empty.

"Black Rabbit."

She murmured the nickname she had just given him. It seemed harmless and meek, yet sometimes a bit wicked—a fitting nickname for Kiyoaki. Just as she was pleased with that thought, a lightning bolt flashed through her mind.

"?!"

Startled, she stopped walking.

—Black Rabbit.

Somewhere, she felt she had seen that before. Someone had that kind of nose art.

"…Ah."

She remembered. During the single enemy air raid on the Eriadore airship, she had seen a strangely realistic dream while on Cameron Island.

Illia was flying in a future fighter plane above a burning city. At that moment, the nose art of the enemy plane she shot down while crying was a black rabbit.

Could that black rabbit be…?

"…Ridiculous…"

She shook off the thought, snapping back to reality. It was just an event in a dream. Although it had left a strong impression due to its strange realism, dreams could not become reality.

Kiyoaki was her friend. The Akitsu Federation and the St Vault Empire had formed a military alliance and were cooperating to launch an attack on Hydrabard. There was no longer any benefit to fighting each other.

"It’s impossible, silly…"

Muttering to herself, Illia resumed walking. While she felt happy, there was also a vague sense of foreboding simmering within her.

In the shadows of the trees near the parking lot, Mio crouched down.

The parking lot was now empty, with only Kiyoaki's bike parked there.

Night was coming soon. She needed to return to the girls' dorm. But for now, she couldn't seem to move from here. She needed to calm the storm of emotions swirling within her before going back.

Earlier, when she happened to pass by, she saw a two-person bike enter the parking lot. The moment she realized it was Kiyoaki and Illia, she reflexively hid in the shadows of the trees.

It was pathetic, but she couldn’t help but secretly peek at the two of them from behind the tree trunk.

Even from a distance, it was clear they looked intimate.

She could tell that Illia had opened her heart to Kiyoaki from her expression.

Seeing the two of them illuminated by the gas lamp's light, Mio's heart shattered.
[[File:IlliaCasual.png|thumb]]
She instinctively crouched down, unable to take her eyes off them.

The two of them exchanged words happily and waved goodbye before parting ways.

Illia walked away in casual clothes she would never normally wear, looking happy, with a light and bouncy step.

They must have gone on a date on the bike. It was obvious from their intimate demeanour that they had a great time.

Kiyoaki and Illia.

Both had fathers who were shot down in battle, tied together by fate. They had been featured countless times in the media, both possessing exceptional talent as airship pilots, and they honed their skills every day through duels.

Because they bore the same burdens, they surely understood each other better than anyone else. As time passed, they would grow closer.

Inside her stomach, chest, and head, a dark, hot, heavy sensation filled her. It felt painfully burning as if every cell in her body was going to be scorched.

She understood that the source of the pain was jealousy.

She knew she had no right to be jealous anymore.

Mio, still crouching, tried to convince herself.

—Illia deserves Kiyoaki far more than I do.

—Much more than the traitor that I am.

—Illia is much more suited for Kiyoaki.

She tried to reason with herself, but countless painful arrows continued to ricochet inside her body. She genuinely worried that a pool of blood might form at her feet. The pain was that intense.

Her heart was beyond her control.

"Ugh…"

She couldn’t hold back and groaned. Even after the two figures disappeared from the parking lot, Mio remained crouched, enduring the pain.

Tears rolled down her cheeks.

She couldn’t stop them. She wiped the tears away with her arm while still crouched.

It was only natural that she had avoided Kiyoaki for nearly half a year. And yet, crying out of jealousy for Illia's relationship felt pathetic.

But…

—It’s fine. No one is watching.

—Just for now, it’s okay to cry like this.

She vowed she would never cry like this again, yet at this moment, she wanted to allow herself that weakness. It was a pitiful, embarrassing way to cry, and if anyone saw her, they would surely laugh. But unless she turned that pain into tears, it felt like she would die from the hurt.

"Ugh… ugh…"

Like a child, Mio sobbed. Water poured from her face. The handkerchief she used to wipe her face became so wet that it dripped when she squeezed it.

This was the last time, she firmly vowed in her heart that she wouldn’t cry again, as she tried to wash away all her overwhelming emotions with tears.

Suddenly, the scene of the canola flower field on Messus Island resurfaced in her memory.

"I’m Kiyoaki’s bride!"

Wearing a tiara made of canola flowers, she had declared it in the summer, feeling like a princess.

"Yeah, I’ll become a pilot and marry Mio."

Forced words from Kiyoaki.

“Don’t cheat on me! We promised we’d get married!”

There was nothing to fear during that summer when I was twelve. I believed without a doubt that I would someday marry Kiyoaki, unaware of what awaited me ahead.

── I can’t go back now.

I chose family over comrades, weighing them in a balance, and I don’t think I made the wrong choice.

I had no choice but to pick one, and I chose that one.

I couldn’t abandon my stepfather, ensnared in interests, nor could I leave behind my brothers and sisters who became spies to protect each other. I didn’t want to see Dominic, Kazuki, and Bonita suffer like this.

So surely, this is for the best.

Even with a stepfather like that, if he hadn’t taken me in, I would have died in a detention camp. He is the one who gave me a life.

── This is the natural consequence.

From now on, Kiyoaki and Illia will walk the path toward glory as the future kings of aerial combat.

A bright and hopeful, radiant future awaits.

In contrast, the path I walk is one of betrayal, mired in deception and trickery.

If that’s the case, at least.

── I don’t want to be hated by Kiyoaki.

── So I’ll just disappear like this…

I want to remain, if only as a faint memory in the corner of Kiyoaki’s heart. To do that, I have to slowly fade away from before him.

Not in an unnatural way, but gradually, letting time take its course.

Eventually, I’ll be downgraded from being a comrade to a classmate, then to an acquaintance, and eventually become like a stranger passing by… Until I’m buried among the many people Kiyoaki will meet in the future, so that he won’t even remember me unless he consciously tries.

── That’s how I will disappear.

Telling myself that, Mio curled up and continued to cry. She thought it would be nice if her body, heart, and all past memories could dissolve into tears and be absorbed by the ground.

Toaru Hikuushi e no Seiyaku:V3Part5

2025-12-01T02:47:55Z

QCore:

Part 22 (Part 5 of Volume 3)
The sea spray was lifted high into the sky, obscuring the sunlight and hiding even the rainbow. Like a divine millstone, the thunderclouds draped themselves over the rice fields.

Twisting and swirling like a spiral, the immense millstone moved slowly towards the southeast, rotating the clouds as if they were a melody. The true nature of the swirling clouds, described as the "Dragon's Nest," was an extraordinarily large typhoon with a diameter of over 1,600 kilometres and maximum wind speeds exceeding 50 meters per second.

In September, typhoons frequently occur in the North-South Multi-Island Sea.

This was the fourth typhoon of the year, but its scale was exceptionally large. On the islands in the typhoon's path, preparations for the safety of crops and buildings were likely in full swing. Like a divine beast moving over the sea, the typhoon swallowed everything in its path and advanced southward.

In the year 1348 of the Empire's Chronicle, September, two hundred nautical miles north of Crossnodal Island in the North Multi-Island Sea──.

There were two flying islands, trailing at a horizontal distance of 20,000 meters from the super gigantic typhoon.

Both were enormous floating islands nearly fifteen kilometres long and five kilometres wide. Below them were long, powerful rudder mechanisms, and on the surface, there were airfields and countless anti-aircraft gun emplacements and anti-ship batteries glaring at the sky like hedgehogs.

Uranos Fortress No. 9 "Kalkinos," Fortress No. 11 "Balsinos."

Of the four flying fortresses dispatched to the Multi-Island Sea area, two were now moving south, close to the super gigantic typhoon.

At the tip of the island, there was the Uranos Fortress command centre, protected by concrete armour and thick bulletproof glass. Surrounded by several staff officers, a middle-aged soldier wearing a shoulder insignia indicating a minor rank observed the typhoon through binoculars.

──Operation Judeka.

Muttering the name of this operation to himself, Commander Lysander Kepla of Kalkinos lowered his binoculars to visually confirm the state of the super gigantic typhoon named "Judeka."

"It's an unprecedented operation."

His tone held no sarcasm; rather, it was filled with anticipation for the adventure ahead. Although Lysander had been critical of the integrated operations headquarters' methods, he was unusually enthusiastic about this "Judeka Operation."

"Interesting. If it goes well, it will surely be etched into the annals of world warfare."

While gazing at the Judeka, which painted the sky and sea in dark gray, he spoke to the navigation officer beside him. The navigation officer did not hide his grim expression.

"I hope you also understand the struggles of those on the front lines."

"Compared to aerial assaults and naval bombardments, typhoons are trivial. The wind and rain cannot destroy concrete armour."

"Staying hidden in the typhoon for nearly a week while concealing radio communications is concerning for troop morale, and won’t the underground storage become waterlogged?"

"If we start counting negatives, we’ll never finish. As a surprise attack, it makes perfect sense. Who would expect two flying fortresses to approach amidst a typhoon? In this age of omnipotent radar, attempting a surprise attack with cumbersome flying fortresses is truly an amusing plan."

Lysander laughed heartily. The navigation officer returned a serious expression, turning his attention back to the multi-island sea map on the operations table. On it, the predicted path of the typhoon led to Air Hunt Island.

"If the typhoon veers away from Air hunt Island, that would be troublesome."

"In that case, we can turn back and retreat. The odds are fifty-fifty, but it’s worth taking the risk. If all goes as planned, our swords will be thrust deep into the enemy's throat. The course of the war will change. …Well then. Shall we proceed? Are we ready?"

Receiving confirmation from the air and communication officers, Lysander issued the order.

"Steering apparatus, reduce speed to 12 knots. Entering Judeka. For a while, we won’t see the sun, so engrave its image into your minds."

The navigation officer held the microphone to his mouth and relayed the current order throughout the island. Soldiers on the ground, bidding farewell to the sun, moved towards the underground living quarters. All aircraft had already been stored in the underground hangars, and only concrete buildings fortified against wind and water remained on the surface.

Kalkinos and Balsinos, the two flying fortresses, stealthily approached the super gigantic typhoon "Judeka."

On the surface of Kalkinos, there was one person──.

In contrast to the stream of personnel flowing into the underground, someone remained at the last corner of the airfield, gazing at the typhoon.

Amidst the well-groomed soldiers, there was a man with a peculiar appearance.

Clad in a wrinkled, tattered military uniform, he leaned on a cane with his right hand.

His right foot was barefoot. What protruded from the hem of his trousers was not an ankle but a wooden stick. Firmly planted on the ground, the man, with a shabby prosthetic leg, stood still, staring intently at the typhoon.

His face was wrapped in bandages.

A small opening was made for his eyes, nose, and mouth, ensuring he could see and breathe. The exposed skin peeking through the small gap was covered in keloids, suggesting he had suffered severe burns across his face in the past. Without a military cap, the man had bandages wrapped around his head and stood there without moving.

Someone could have called out to him to take him underground, but no one approached him. He seemed to exist on a different plane than ordinary people.

After observing the typhoon until he grew tired, the man turned and began to walk unsteadily. With a hunched back and an unstable gait that made it look like he might fall at any moment, he barely managed to keep his balance, resembling an old man as he stepped onto the stairs leading down to the underground facility.

The man walked alone through the narrow underground passage.

Two lieutenants, laughing as they approached from the other side, noticed him, gasped in alarm, their expressions stiffening, and both pressed themselves against the wall, looking up at him in respect as he passed. The man walked by slowly, tapping the floor with his cane, without returning their nod. The lieutenants remained motionless against the wall until he disappeared down the corridor.

At every place the man went, the Uranos personnel reacted the same way.

They merely feared and made way. Mechanics, pilots, officers, engine personnel, and supply personnel all knew his face, yet no one spoke to him. They merely stiffened their expressions, suppressing screams, and made way for him.

Eventually, the bandaged man reached the underground hangar for the flying machines.

Afterward, he began to wander through the hangar as if searching for a lost treasure.

Noticing him, a mechanic cautiously approached the bandaged man and pointed to a single seat fighter aircraft.

Without expressing thanks, the bandaged man walked unsteadily toward the indicated aircraft.

He stuck a staff at his waist and clung to the wings, desperately trying to climb up. His movements were awkward, like a caterpillar crawling up a tree branch. A mechanic, unable to watch any longer, rushed over to help, but the bandaged man turned around, clinging to the wings, and glared with his keloid-covered eyes.

"Gi...!"

A strange growl reverberated from beneath the bandages. The intimidated mechanic let out a short scream and stayed put. The bandaged man twisted his body and climbed up onto the wings, then rolled into the cockpit with the same motion.

This was where he slept.

Although a special room was prepared in the living quarters, the bandaged man never approached it, always sleeping alone in the cramped cockpit.

The mechanic gazed at the cockpit with a look of disbelief before turning his gaze to the nose of the aircraft.

It was decorated with a black panther's nose art.

In the same league as Akmed from Valkyrie, there was the emblem of the "King of the Skies."

──Karnasion.

The King of the Skies was now curled up like a caterpillar in the cockpit, waiting for the day he would soar into battle.

Though Karnasion found it difficult to walk on the ground, in the sky he maneuverer fighter planes freely, transforming into a black panther that hunted down any prey. With an ugly appearance and a lost right leg, his throat covered in keloids, he could barely speak, making the ground feel like hell to him. The only place he could behave freely was in the cockpit of a fighter plane. The aircraft now responded to his desires more than his own body, projecting the aerial manoeuvres he imagined into the sky.

To Karnasion, his beloved machine was his own flesh and blood.

In this miserable state, crawling on the ground, he was merely a husk. A husk needed no family, friends, or lovers—only his beloved machine.

Inside the cockpit, he closed his eyes, feeling comforted as the aircraft gently cradled his ugly self. Karnasion and the Type 3 Idra had completely merged, becoming one being.

Karnasion, who loved the sky more than anyone, also wanted to be loved by the sky more than anyone. He could not accept that anything else could be more loved than him by the sky. If such a presence existed, he would have to shoot it down for the sake of his pride.

Even in the next battlefield, he wanted to be the one most loved by the sky. He must make the skies above Air Hunt Island his own.

Offering that prayer, Karnasion fell asleep.

The sounds of wind and rain from afar grew more intense. The airship was entering the typhoon as planned──.

Though I wondered how it would turn out, it wasn't all bad.

Previously, just receiving a command was a hassle that required going through a cumbersome messenger. But now, I had the best communication method, Fio, at my disposal. There were times I regretted getting in touch with Mio out of curiosity, but communication with the secret intelligence division was immensely convenient now.

"Thanks to that, this kind of job is now possible."

In the moonlit midnight, standing in a wetsuit on the rocky shore near Sanjiru Bay, southwest of Air Hunt Island, Reiner smiled at his partner.

"…Where did you get that?"

Mio asked coldly, her gaze fixed on Reiner, who was carrying an oxygen tank.

"If you sneak into the naval storage, there’s plenty to go around."

Checking the small light attached to his head, Reiner carelessly replied as he tucked a small knife into his waist pocket. It sounded simple, but sneaking into a military supply depot closely monitored by soldiers and stealing this diving gear was no small feat.

"Then keep an eye out. If anyone comes, either scare them off or move to another spot. I’m counting on you."

Saying this, Reiner put on a full-face mask. A covert operative for underwater infiltration had to excel in all kinds of skills, but Reiner surprised me with his abilities in both theft and diving techniques.

"See you."

Mio sighed and waved to Reiner. In the moonlight, Reiner smiled behind the mask, gave a thumbs up, and plunged into the sea.

The waves soon settled as if nothing had happened. Mio sat on a flat rock, gazing wistfully at the full moon reflected on the water’s surface.

──What am I doing…?

Lately, I had begun to abandon my thoughts. Losing interest in my own future made everything seem inconsequential. Like a mechanical puppet, I received messages through Fio, passed the content to Reiner without reading it, tied Reiner's replies to Fio’s legs, and occasionally accompanied Reiner in his suspicious activities. I didn’t want to know what he was doing, nor had I ever asked. I was afraid of understanding the meaning behind his actions.

In Sanjiru Bay, red and orange lights sparkled everywhere. It looked like a seaside city, but a fleet was anchored in two columns. The shimmering artificial lights under the starlight appeared fantastical, like something from a fairy tale. Yet, when battle commenced, a single battleship could unleash firepower equivalent to five divisions—a deadly weapon of slaughter.

After waiting for a little over an hour, Reiner surfaced.

Dripping seawater, he climbed onto the rocks, discarded his full-face mask, and grinned playfully at Mio.

"Success. Big score."

"…………"

"Want to know what I did?"

"I don't want to know."

"You're so cold. Even though you're an accomplice."

"…It’s over, right? I’m going home."

"I'll take you close to school. Just wait a bit."

Reiner quickly changed into his uniform, tossed the oxygen tank and fins into the sea, and stuffed the remaining diving gear into his backpack.

"Alright. Mission accomplished. Get on."

Mio silently accepted the helmet from Reiner and sat on the back of the bike.

"You can cling to me, you know?"

"I decline."

Rejecting him outright, she grasped the tandem grips on either side of the rear seat. Reiner laughed merrily and kicked the starter.

It was 2 AM. They rode along a deserted, pitch-black public road.

Mio remained silent, gazing at the passing night scenery.

──Where am I going…?

Suddenly, a wave of anxiety surged within me. I barely managed to suppress the urge to scream.

"Let’s stop here. If we go back together, it’ll look suspicious."

About twenty minutes on foot from school, Reiner planted one foot on the ground. Mio got off the back seat and returned the helmet to Reiner.

"Recently, your attitude seems to have improved a bit."

"…What do you mean by that?"

“It’s not as bad as it used to be. Honestly, I wish you would smile a bit more, but I guess that’s asking for too much.”

What Reiner was talking about was Mio’s everyday life. Since being told about what Ethan was doing, Mio had cut off all communication, but since the summer break, she had gradually started exchanging words with those around her.

“Maybe you’re just getting used to it. I hope you can soon trick everyone while laughing like me.”

“...There’s no way I can do that.”

“Even if you can’t reach my level, just try to act normally. If you get caught, your parents and siblings will get caught too. Don’t forget that.”

“...I understand. I’ll act normally.”

“Well then.”

“Hey.”

“Hmm?”

“...Don’t you feel anything about this?”

“Huh?”

“...Deceiving everyone every day... Working behind the scenes for Urano like this... Are you okay with it?”

When Reiner realized the intent behind her question, he scoffed mockingly, making a sound in his throat.

“I’m fine. I don’t feel anything. I’m a soldier of Urano, after all. It’s only natural to work for Urano.”

“...”

“It’s worse for those being deceived. In this day and age, weaklings and fools are the real evil. Even Kiyoaki, pretending to be a good person, is just practicing murder, you know? He’s studying how to efficiently massacre a lot of Urano people. What’s wrong with working to kill St Vault people?”

Mio remained silent and couldn’t answer. She had lost track of what was good and what was evil.

“You need to wake up quickly. If you keep moping around, you’ll never go back to how things were.”

Reiner tossed that out in his usual light tone, opened the throttle, and the engine roared as he disappeared into the night.

Staring into the darkness, Mio sighed and walked alone along the night sidewalk.

The summer constellations sparkled like a treasure box from the gods. The night breeze in mid-September carried a hint of autumn.

Almost a month had passed since that night in the cave with Kiyoaki.

The scene from that time was still preserved at the centre of Mio’s consciousness.

The events of that stormy night, where she entrusted everything to Kiyoaki and accepted him as he was.

Just recalling it brought warmth to her body. Feeling shy and unsure of where to put that heat, Mio lifted her right middle finger to her eyes.

A silver ring was fitted there.

The warmth turned into a pang of sadness.

In the summer when she was twelve, she made a promise with Kiyoaki in a field of canola flowers.

“Don’t cheat, okay? We promised we’d get married!”

After forcing Kiyoaki to accept a canola tiara, Mio taught him how to perform the rituals of the Sylvanian royal family.

“After that, I’ll give you a silver ring! That’ll complete the ritual, and our love will be eternal!”

Because they were children, they were fearless. Since then, the invasion of Messus Island had happened, and they had both grown up without ever bringing up that promise again. But Mio had always kept the ring on her finger, thinking that one day she might give it to Kiyoaki.

──But that day would never come.

Mio stopped walking and took the ring off her finger.

Then, holding it tightly, she raised it above her head—thought better of it, and lowered her arm.

“How foolish.”

She composed herself, then told herself:

“I don’t wish for my own happiness anymore. So it’s okay to throw this away.”

She tightened her cheeks and wound up once more—this time, Mio threw the silver ring into the bushes by the roadside.

At the peak of its arc, the ring sparkled in the starlight before disappearing into the underbrush.

“This is it. It’s over.”

Clapping her hands together, she said this to herself and walked toward school.

With each step, the pain in her chest grew stronger.

Kiyoaki’s expressions floated up among the summer constellations.

She had been with him since they were children. She believed she would become his bride.

She had loved him dearly.

And she still loved him.

Even if I try to ignore the voice in my heart, it only grows louder and echoes within me.

Mio turned around, stepped off the path, and ventured into the underbrush.

Shining her penlight into the thicket, she desperately searched for the ring.

"What am I doing?"

She felt like crying but held it back. If she cried now, she would be far too miserable.

"I'm such an idiot."

She plunged her hands into the dark thicket, continuing her search for the lost ring. The light of the moon and stars twinkled brightly, as if trying to help her.

Since the attack on Crossnodal Island by the Urano Air Force, the only gateway for the St Vault Empire's military to land in the South Archipelago Sea had become here, at the Chandler Base on Mauregan Island. Now, this island could be called the headquarters of the St Vault Air Force, with the main ships of the Archipelago Fleet lined up at the military port, and the warehouse district, city, and markets overflowing with soldiers, all buzzing with the excitement of war.

A short distance away from that noise, halfway up a hill overlooking the military port, stood a small two-story building.

The exposed concrete surface gave off a grim atmosphere. The iron-barred entrance was unwelcoming and heavily secured, with several armed soldiers on guard at the entrance.

There was no sign, but inside was the Operations Headquarters of the St Vault Air Force's Archipelago Division. Lieutenant Balthazar Grim, a candidate officer from the intelligence section, was looking out from a second-floor window of that dreary building.

The rows of palm trees basking in the September sunlight swayed ominously in the sea breeze.

The wind was gradually picking up. Typhoon No. 4 was approaching. According to the forecast, the typhoon would skim the north of Mauregan Island tomorrow and move southeast, with expectations to directly hit Air Hunt Island four days later.

Gazing at the deep blue sea in the distance, he took a deep breath to rest his tired eyes from paperwork and faced the mountain of communication records stacked on his desk. These records contained signals sent from enemy forces deployed near Crossnodal Island.

What Balthazar was currently doing was an intelligence mission known as communications intelligence.

By statistically analysing the time a signal was transmitted, the location that was attacked that day, the transmission points of signals sent from enemy aircraft, vessels, and submarines, as well as differences in signal volume during dates when attacks were carried out and not carried out, he could predict to some extent the enemy's attack locations, times, and scale. This required piling up all the intercepted signals and meticulously checking day and night for anything unusual hidden within the data.

He was the lowest ranked in the workplace. Every day, he was chased by miscellaneous tasks unrelated to statistical work, but he endured without complaining. He knew that in order to achieve his grand goals, it was essential to quietly handle these tasks and gain trust within the division first.

It had already been nearly six months since he graduated from Air Hunt Officer Academy.

His classmates had various assignments: some went on training cruises, others were assigned to fleet duties, and some had already been deployed to base air squadrons. He had never been particularly close to anyone in school, so there was no communication, and he didn’t mind at all.

Really. Not at all.

──He didn't mind.

Balthazar told himself this, turning his gaze away from the mountain of documents to look out at the dazzling blue sky.

──There’s no way he could be concerned.

He checked with himself once more.

──It’s not that he’s concerned, but I wonder how Kagura is doing.

He suddenly thought this. Although he didn’t quite understand it himself, several times a day, he found himself wondering about it.

Why was that?

He questioned himself and arrived at an answer.

──It’s because Kagura is assigned to the Voltec Air Force.

Kagura had been assigned to the strongest fighter squadron in the St Vault Air Force. She was probably gripping the controls of a fighter plane right now, soaring freely through the skies.

──That’s what makes him envious.

While he was stuck with mundane work like sifting through a mountain of dirt to find a single grain of gold, Kagura was on the front lines, deployed with a top-tier fighter squadron. From the outside, it was clear that Kagura was an elite officer assigned to a much more glamorous mission.

──That’s why he cares. That’s the conclusion. How ridiculous.

Laughing at his own thoughts, Balthazar faced the mountain of tedious paperwork once again. Most of the content was just a string of incomprehensible call signs. Hundreds of sheets densely filled with this writing were piled on his desk.

──If you want to get promoted quickly, decipher this mass of numbers.

He told himself, meticulously and patiently staring at a group of numerical sequences, recording their patterns, irregularities, and statistically unclear points in a separate notebook.

While continuing this large and concentration-demanding task, there was something that had been bothering him for the past couple of days.

──I wonder how Kagura is doing.

──No, that’s not it. The numbers that have appeared are decidedly different from the usual trends.

Balthazar flipped through the dozens of personal notebooks he had amassed and compared the current communication records with those from the past week, deducing and sniffing out some unclear trends.

──The communication records from the Vestelant continent are unnatural.

Four days ago, suddenly, signals differing from the usual patterns were intercepted from the waters north of Crossnodal Island, closer to the Vestelant continent. Although he couldn’t understand the content, it likely came from an unknown Urano fleet. Then, three days ago, these signals abruptly stopped. Since then, there had been no signals from the relevant waters, nor any large-scale attacks on Crossnodal Island.

──The fleet has vanished.

That’s how it could be interpreted. But they couldn’t just disappear. The enemy fleet was likely enforcing radio communication silence and heading somewhere. Whether it was to dock at the Urano base or to launch an attack on the St Vault base was unclear.

Yesterday, Balthazar reported this matter to the head of the information section. It seemed that similar reports had already come in from other staff, and the head nodded and reported it to the director as a point of concern. Presumably, other capable personnel were involved in the analysis. They should still be in the process of analysing it, but──could they afford to take their time?

Balthazar’s intuition whispered of a crisis.

The job of an information section officer was to statistically analyze vast amounts of data and uncover the enemy’s schemes from it.

From a mere mass of numbers, they had to predict the timing, scale, and location of enemy operations, which required a craftsman’s skill. After thoroughly studying and analysing the data mathematically, they would use their craft instincts to discern the truth──that was the job of a communications intelligence officer.

──Read the truth from the numbers.

Balthazar pored over the mountain of paperwork late into the night, highlighting concerning sections, jotting down notes in his personal notebook, cross-referencing them with past records, and arrived at a certain hypothesis.

──This massive amount of signal transmissions does not come from a fleet. It comes from an air fortress, a floating island.

By comparing the past signal records from the Urano fleet with those intercepted from an Urano air fortress a year and a half ago, he noticed subtle differences in the waves of numbers, leading him to this hypothesis.

──Perhaps two air fortresses have been moving south along the Vestelant continent.

──And three days ago, they sealed off their radio communications.

──What happened on that day?

Balthazar reviewed the combat records from Crossnodal Island and the weather forecast for that day, furthering his line of reasoning.

──There was no battle. Instead, a typhoon passed through the nearby waters.

──As the air fortress approached the typhoon, it shifted to radio communication control.

──What occurred in the relevant waters at that time?

Balthazar glanced out at the darkening window.

Stars twinkled like falling sparks. He could hear the sounds of autumn insects.

A hypothesis flashed in his mind.

──Two air fortresses hid within the typhoon.

For what purpose?

──To mask their radar and neutralize enemy detection, advancing deep into the North Daito Sea.

He had never heard of such a case. It was an unprecedented operation in the history of world warfare. However, having analysed the data, he could conclude nothing else.

Balthazar picked up a newspaper to check the projected path of the typhoon.

The typhoon was expected to hit Air Hunt Island in four days. Currently, two new type air battleships and four new type air carriers, as well as a newly organized assault fleet, were stationed at Air Hunt Island. If the two air fortresses launched a surprise attack, the newly formed assault fleet, a symbol of hope for St Vault, would be utterly annihilated.

──But could there really be a strategy to approach hidden within a typhoon?

His reasoning seemed far-fetched, and Balthazar felt confused. If he reported this to his superiors, it would likely be dismissed as childish fantasy.

──But a surprise attack is called so precisely because it catches the enemy off guard.

Caught between his reasoning and intuition, Balthazar wavered.

Should he report this matter to his superiors tomorrow or not?

If a mere rookie like him presented such a hypothesis and was laughed at, while nothing came of it, his abilities would be questioned. There was a risk of being seen as a fool bringing childish fantasies to the battlefield. Everyone in the workplace was a veteran with more experience than Balthazar. Raising concerns where others saw none would carry more disadvantages.

──I’m still new. It would be wiser to keep quiet.

Reason whispered that to him.

But, still.

──If it’s true, Air Hunt Island will be destroyed.

If two air fortresses launched a surprise attack, it was certain that the entire island would be engulfed in flames. The military port and airfield, as well as the Air Hunt Officer Academy, would not escape the inferno.

──Am I really going to silently overlook the signs of a surprise attack? For my own safety?

He envisioned the faces of those attending the Air Hunt Officer Academy under the night sky outside his window.

Mio, Illia, Cecil.

And delayed, Kiyoaki and Reiner.

Reiner disappeared quickly, but the others lingered in his thoughts.

──What happens to them is none of my concern. Pathetic.

Balthazar sneered inwardly, deep in his throat. He had grand ambitions. He wasn’t interested in the childish friendships of his peers. Right now, his priority was to earn trust in this workplace. To do that, he had to be prudent, reliably carry out what his superiors instructed, and make sure they liked him.

There was no value in taking strange risks.

And yet.

──Is it really okay to just overlook it?

That voice echoed within him.

──I alone can see through this operation.

──If this is true, it could be a fast track to promotion.

──It’s worth taking the risk. Isn’t it?

──Not for the sake of my peers. But for my own advancement.

Balthazar told himself that. He didn’t want to work for the sake of his comrades, but he could work for his own promotion. That was something he could accept.

──I’ll do it. For my ambitions.

He sharpened his focus and reviewed the mountain of data once more to check for any holes in his hypothesis. After much thought, he reached a conclusion, despite the noisy chirping of insects outside the window.

──Two Urano air fortresses are approaching Air Hunt Island, hidden within the typhoon.

He could say it with conviction. Whether he was a rookie or a low-ranking trainee, he could confidently declare this as his conclusion.

──Tomorrow, I’ll report to the section chief. Laugh if you want.

──In four days, my correctness will be proven.

Resolute, he immediately began preparing materials to persuade the section chief. He extracted past radio transmission records as the basis for his argument, analysed the differences in call signs between the air fortresses and the fleet, and examined changes in communication volume in relation to the ongoing situation around Crossnodal. He calculated the fluctuations in communication volume as the typhoon moved, providing the strongest mathematical evidence available to support his theory. By the time he finished his work, the sky had already brightened, and the office staff were arriving for work.

Listening to the birds chirping, Balthazar approached the desk of Andy Bott, the section chief of the Multi-Island Sea Information Division, and after exchanging morning greetings, submitted six reports.

"…………?"

Captain Andy glanced over his glasses, casting a thoughtful look.

"There are suspicious movements in the northern sea area of Crossnodal Island. I’ve summarized them in this report."

"Hmm."

The captain began to read through the reports. He had expected to laugh off a trainee’s report, but surprisingly, he responded with genuine attention.

As he flipped through the pages, seriousness began to shine in his intelligent eyes. He meticulously followed the presented numbers, occasionally falling silent in contemplation.

"…Did you do this all by yourself?"

After finishing the reports, Captain Andy asked in a calm voice.

"Yes."

"…Two air fortresses entered the typhoon and plan to launch a surprise attack on Air Hunt Island, huh? That’s quite a bold assertion."

"I agree. However, when cross-referencing the numbers with the surrounding situation, that possibility…”

Balthazar replied calmly. Captain Andy fell silent again, leaning back in his chair, observing Balthazar's expression through his glasses. Balthazar met his gaze without flinching.

After a moment of consideration, the captain broke the silence, causing the springs of his chair to creak.

"…I’ll forward this report to the director. Whether the content will be seriously considered is up to the operational parties. Based on my experience, it’s unlikely that headquarters will take action… but this is certainly worth raising."

A shiver ran down Balthazar’s spine. He had thought he wouldn’t be taken seriously, but it was unexpected for his report to be escalated.

Captain Andy quietly continued to weave his words while reviewing the contents of the report.

"From a statistical perspective, I cannot deny the arguments you presented. It’s astounding that a trainee with only six months of service could produce this. It seems that graduating at the top of the Air Hunt Academy was no fluke."

"I’m honoured."

"Indeed. You’ve worked through the night. I’ll grant you permission to use the rest area, so take a short break. I still need you to contribute a lot more."

The way Captain Andy looked at Balthazar had clearly changed. It was evident that his attitude had shifted from that of a mere trainee to treating him as a "valuable subordinate."

"…Yes, sir!"

Balthazar straightened up, feeling the praise. The rest area was usually off-limits to trainees, so receiving permission was unprecedented. This meant he had been recognized to that extent.

He understood that it would be difficult to move the operations headquarters itself. Information and operations were separate, and operational parties required decisions made after considering all angles of the situation. The "Commander’s Decision" was not something that could be made lightly from a report created by a trainee overnight. It required weighing information from intelligence agencies scattered across the Multi-Island Sea, current battle conditions, comparisons of the strengths of both the allied and enemy forces, and the status of logistical support—all crucial information had to be considered.

If information division personnel could influence the operations headquarters, it would only be when Balthazar had earned sufficient accomplishments and trust such that the Commander of Operations recognized, "If it’s Balthazar’s report, it must be correct." Only then would he have an impact on the entire St Vault military.

──This time, that report likely won’t bear fruit.

──But the section chief recognized my efforts.

──He acknowledged my existence and abilities. That’s enough for now.

Comforted by this fact, Balthazar lay down on the simple bed in the rest area. As he began to drift into sleep, the faces of his juniors living at Air Hunt Island flashed through his mind once more.

The roar of the atmosphere was beginning to transform into that of a ferocious beast.

From afar and near, a high-pitched sound, like metal being sliced, echoed as the wind's scythe twisted in reverse.

Since around sunset, the street trees had started to rustle. The current time was 9:30 PM. The violent storm front seemed to be approaching, and the wind was growing increasingly fierce.

Listening to the sounds of the typhoon beyond the curtains, in the Air Hunt Officer Academy's student dormitory, four students—Kiyoaki, Reiner, Cecil, and Illia—were lounging as usual in their specially assigned officer's room, "The Seven of Eriadore."

"Typhoons are so boring. We can't go outside. Cecil, make us something to eat."

Reiner, sprawled lazily on the sofa, ordered Cecil, who was sitting across from him.

"I don’t want to. I’m busy right now."

Without looking up from her fashion magazine, Cecil replied coldly.

"You’re not busy! What’s with that magazine? It’s stupid and pointless. Stop worrying about those mindless drivel and make us food."

"Shut up! Just make it yourself! You can make salt pasta, salt bread, or salt rice balls, right? You know how to cook those!"

"I can, but that’s just sprinkling salt. I want something proper, so if you can't do it, Illia, can you make something?"

Next to Cecil, Illia was cleaning her swordsmanship equipment with a cloth.

"No."

Without even considering it, she dismissed the request. Reiner sighed dramatically and turned to Kiyoaki, who was beside him.

"Kiyoaki~. You're my last hope."

Kiyoaki smiled with a troubled expression.

"What do you want to eat?"

"A katsudon from Mio."

"You’ll need to call Mio then."

"She probably won’t come anyway."

"If you call her, she might."

When Kiyoaki said this, Reiner made a strange face.

"What’s that supposed to mean? You should be the one to call her."

"…It’s not possible. You seem to be able to communicate better with Mio than I do right now."

Kiyoaki said this with a self-deprecating smile.

Reiner looked at Kiyoaki suspiciously, then sighed again.

"Fine. You wait here. I’ll go call Mio. I’m hungry."

Reluctantly getting up from the sofa, Reiner left the officer's room.

Left behind, Illia, Cecil, and Kiyoaki exchanged glances.

"He went to call her, but… Mio probably won’t come, right?"

"That’s unlikely… It’s been almost six months since she’s been here."

"…It’s unusual for Reiner to go out of his way to call Mio. Especially in this weather."

At Illia's words, both Kiyoaki and Cecil nodded. Reiner, who usually lounged on the sofa and talked nonsense, was taking initiative for once. It was a rare occurrence.

"Is it because of the typhoon that he’s acting differently?"

"He’s not a timid person… But I hope Mio comes…"

Kiyoaki murmured, looking toward the curtains. The roar of the wind was growing stronger.

Reiner exited the student dormitory, donning a raincoat, and headed for the library. He knew that Mio, who had nowhere to go in the girls’ dorm or the officer's room, often spent her time there alone.

Battling the rain and wind, he finally reached the library. Upon entering and shedding his raincoat, he found Mio sitting alone at a six-person table, studying.

At this hour and in this weather, Mio was the only student in the library. She appeared to be submerged beneath the sound of the rain. Reiner approached her confidently and sat across from her.

"…What is it? Another lecture?"

Without looking at Reiner, Mio was drawing red lines in her navigation manual.

Reiner exhaled through his nose and began to lecture her.

"Engage with others. Just normally."

"I can’t."

"Shut up. Just do it. It’s not just for you, but for your family too."

"It has nothing to do with you."

"It does. If you keep acting suspiciously and end up getting caught, I’ll get dragged down with you. If you were interrogated, you’d spill everything in an instant, right? It’s a hassle for me."

"I won’t talk."

"You will. Don’t underestimate torture. You wouldn’t last five minutes. For you, not being suspected is the most important thing. And yet, you’re always acting suspiciously without a care for how I feel…"

"……………………"

Mio maintained a stoic expression, ignoring Reiner's lecture. Naturally, Reiner felt irritated.

“Listen. I’m saying this for your sake. Be grateful.”

“……………………”

Mio’s attitude remained unchanged. Reiner added a serious tone to his voice.

“This is a special service. I’m going to teach you something incredibly important. You can ignore it, but you’ll regret it.”

“……………………”

“Tomorrow, when the typhoon clears, the situation will change.”

“…?”

Mio lifted her gaze from her manual, looking at Reiner with suspicion.

“I can’t say more. You wouldn’t want to know anyway. But think of today as your last normal student life. You will never return to your everyday life again.”

“…What do you mean? …What does that mean?”

“You don’t need to know. But it won’t hurt to listen. Spend tonight with the others. Got it?”

It was Reiner Beck's words, not Hachidori's.

“…What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I’m asking if you got it.”

It seemed questions were prohibited. Mio felt a bit pressured and looked at Reiner’s expression, waiting for it to soften, but there was no sign of that happening.

She felt defeated.

“…If you’re going to insist… I guess I can go.”

Her intuition told her to follow Reiner.

“Great. Just make something to eat and come back. That’s all.”

Maintaining his serious expression, Reiner nodded, and the two of them left the library together.

The roar of the wind and rain was intense. If they let their guard down, they might be thrown to the ground. The streetlight’s glow faintly illuminated Reiner’s back.

Mio threw another question at him.

“Hey, what’s going to happen tomorrow?”

Reiner turned slightly, raising his voice.

“Listen carefully. At the right moment, I’m going to make a proposal to everyone in the officer's room. You’ll need to support it. Promise me.”

Mio looked at Reiner, puzzled. He still had a serious expression.

“Trust me. Nothing bad will come of it. You need to agree with my opinion.”

Mio didn’t understand what he was saying, but she nodded in response. For some reason, it felt right to follow Reiner’s lead now.

As soon as Mio entered the officer's room, Kiyoaki, Illia, and Cecil jumped up from the sofa as if propelled by springs.

“Mio!” “Mio…!” “Mio!”

Their voices coincidentally echoed together. Mio timidly stepped into the room.

“…It’s been a while… since I came to the officer's room.”

From behind her, Reiner popped his head in.

“Heh heh. Success! I told her there was chocolate, and she followed.”

“N-No, that’s not—”

Mio tried to deny it, but when her gaze met Reiner’s, she slumped her shoulders.

“…I guess… that’s true.”

She reluctantly agreed. Kiyoaki, anxious, said,

“Y-Yeah, whatever, just come in. I’m so glad, Mio. It’s really lonely in this room without you.”

“Oh… is that so?”

She replied curtly while awkwardly glancing around the room. Cecil and Illia cleared the centre of the sofa.

“Mio, here, come here! We don’t have chocolate, but I can buy some from the shop!”

“N-No, you don’t have to buy anything. It’s a typhoon outside. U-Um… excuse me.”

Mio awkwardly sat down on the sofa, squeezed between the two.

“Why don’t you come to the swordsmanship club too? It’s a great stress reliever.”

Illia unusually initiated a conversation.

“Ah… Yeah. I’m just officially enrolled in the swordsmanship club, though.”

“If you’re going, I want to go too! The last time I went, Kagura and Illia bullied me.”

“I didn’t bully you. I just made sure your motives weren’t impure. If it’s you, Mio, I’ll teach you more gently.”

“Um… thank you, Illia… Maybe, possibly… I hope I can go someday.”

Mio trailed off, and Reiner flashed a grin.

“Whatever, just make us food. I want to eat katsudon for the first time in a while.”

“…We don’t have the ingredients.”

In the past, Mio used to receive ingredients from her family in the Akitsu Federation, but she hadn’t received any this year. There were still some rice and miso left, but it seemed impossible to make katsudon all of a sudden.

“Oh, right. Then anything’s fine. Just make something filling!”

“...But what do you mean by ‘something’?”

“Kiyoaki, what do you want to eat? You know Mio’s cooking best.”

“Ah, no, I’m fine… Just having Mio here is good enough for me.”

At those words, Mio looked down awkwardly. Everyone was being overly considerate, which only made the atmosphere feel strange.

Reiner chuckled, trying to lighten the mood. “What’s with the stiff attitude? Kiyoaki, you’re tossing and turning in bed at night, calling out ‘Mio, Mio.’ If you were that lonely, should I leave you two alone?”

Kiyoaki’s face turned crimson in an instant.

“W-What are you saying!? I don’t talk like that in my sleep!”

“You do! Every single night, from the bottom bunk, it’s ‘Mio, Mio,’ it’s super loud. If you’re that worried, why don’t you just sleep together?”

“W-What!? No way!”

Kiyoaki and Reiner shared a dorm room, sleeping in the same bunk bed, but Kiyoaki had never heard anything like that come from Reiner’s mouth before.

Across from them, Mio was blushing furiously, looking down and hiding her face with her hair.

“No, that’s a lie! Don’t believe him, Mio! I definitely don’t talk like that in my sleep!”

“You say it every night! ‘Mio~. Mio~. Why is this happening, Mio~?’”

Reiner pouted his lips and made an exaggeratedly foolish expression to mimic Kiyoaki’s sleep talking.

Unable to hold back, Kiyoaki grabbed Reiner by the neck with both hands and started to choke him.

“That’s a lie! Don’t insult me! If you don’t stop, I’ll really choke you!”

“Ugh, hey, I’m not…! Wait, this is bad, it’s too much…!!”

“Take that back! Don’t make up stories!”

Kiyoaki’s anger was quickly diffused by Illia and Cecil, who hurriedly pulled him away from Reiner. Reiner was panting heavily, but he still had a smirk on his face.

“Wow, you went for that right away… Not bad…”

“Of course it’s not bad! You started it with that weird talk!”

“It’s just a joke, everyone knows that! I was just trying to liven things up.”

“That’s too much! Mio’s already having a hard time!”

Mio still couldn’t lift her head. Being teased like this was something neither she nor Kiyoaki could handle. Their clumsy options were either to get furious or freeze up—one of the two.

At that moment, Kiyoaki suddenly felt a piercing gaze and turned to look across the table.

He caught Illia sitting up straight, staring directly at him. As soon as their eyes met, she hurriedly shifted her gaze to Cecil.

A strange sense of discomfort brushed against Kiyoaki’s temples, but he couldn’t grasp what it was.

“Sorry, it’s my fault. I didn’t say that in my sleep, okay? Just calm down. As an apology, I’ll make you some salt pasta.”

“I don’t want that, it’s disgusting! You just sprinkled salt on pasta!”

As Kiyoaki’s frustration peaked, Mio, still with her head down, timidly raised her hand.

“Uh… I could make something? Pasta is quick to prepare.”

“Eh…?”

“...If you don’t want it, that’s fine.”

Kiyoaki stared at Mio for a moment, dazed, then hurriedly nodded.

“Y-Yeah, if Mio is going to cook, I’ll eat anything. Right, Reiner?”

“I’m good, thanks.”

“Why would you refuse now!? You were just saying you wanted katsudon, you idiot! Mio is offering to cook, so just eat it in silence!”

“Okay, okay, I was just joking, don’t get mad. And who are you?”

“Aki, you change personality when Mio’s around…”

“Ah… Okay. I’ll make a late-night snack. Illia and Cecil, what about you?”

“I’ll have a little. It’s been a while since I had Mio’s cooking.”

“Oh, then I’ll have some too! Mio’s pasta is delicious!”

Mio nodded and got up from the sofa, moving to the kitchen, familiar after a long time. She opened the lower cabinets to check that all the cooking tools were there and peeked into the refrigerator.

“Uh… I can make meat sauce quickly, though.”

Kiyoaki rushed into the kitchen.

“That’s fine! I’ll help! I’ll boil the water!”

“Ah… No, that’s okay. I can do it by myself… Just sit down.”

“Oh, really!? Uh, okay, I got it. I’ll leave it to you…”

Kiyoaki returned to the sofa, looking strangely sombre, but still glancing anxiously at Mio in the kitchen.

"Why are you acting so awkward? Just be normal. If you're too concerned, Mio will feel awkward too."

Reiner whispered to Kiyoaki, but he couldn’t calm down. It seemed like Mio was finally returning to normal, and he worried about her retreating back into her shell if something went wrong again.

Cecil also moved closer to Kiyoaki, his worried expression evident.

"Aki, just act normal. Let’s welcome her back like we always do."

“Y-Yeah…”

Kiyoaki nodded awkwardly. Some calmness returned, and he realized that Reiner had been teasing them on purpose to lighten the mood.

—That’s right. I need to be normal. Just normal. Normal…

He repeated to himself, nodding along with Reiner’s silly talk while waiting for the late-night snack. In the kitchen behind him, Mio was quietly sautéing ground meat. A delicious aroma filled the officer's room, naturally making their stomachs growl.

“Thanks for waiting… It might not be great since it’s been a while.”

Mio, with a lack of confidence, brought a large plate of pasta to the dining table.

“I don’t know how much everyone will eat, so help yourselves.”

She efficiently set out plates and forks in front of everyone.

“Okay, okay! Wow, it looks delicious!”

“Thanks, Mio! Let’s eat!”

Kiyoaki and Reiner dug in, taking big helpings from the large plate and stuffing their mouths.

“Ugh—”

“It’s delicious!”

Their faces broke into huge smiles. The rich, meaty sauce clung to the steaming pasta, filling their noses with savory aromas. As they ate, they grew hungrier, and before long, they were fighting over the pasta on the plate.

“Hey, Reiner, you’re taking too much! That’s for us too…”

Cecil complained while serving herself and Illia, twirling the pasta onto his fork and chewing happily.

“Wow, this is amazing!”

“Yeah. Mio’s cooking really stands out.”

Illia nodded as she eagerly moved on to her second helping.

"There's none left!"

Cecil gazed regretfully at the large plate, now only containing remnants of sauce. Mio hesitantly spoke up, "Um... We still have some ingredients left."

"I'll eat!" "Me too!"

Reiner and Kiyoaki reacted reflexively, and Mio silently stood up from the sofa and headed to the kitchen. A little later, she returned with another large plate, which quickly disappeared into everyone's stomachs.

"Thank you for the meal, Mio! It was really delicious!" "Thank you!" "Mio, thanks for the meal. Leave the cleanup to me."

After everyone helped clean up, they relaxed in the dining room with Mio for the first time in a while. The sound of wind and rain from outside was gradually getting stronger.

Reiner casually said while looking out the window, "They say the typhoon will pass by tomorrow morning. Did you know? After a typhoon, the debris in the air gets stirred up, and the sky looks strange."

"Ah, I've heard something like that. I haven't seen it, though."

"I think the typhoon will be gone by sunrise. If that's the case, we should probably see an amazing dawn. How about we all go to the observatory to check it out?"

With a grin, he made the suggestion. Kiyoaki, holding a cup of tea, replied, "A dawn sounds nice. I hope it actually happens. And we can't be sure the typhoon will have passed as predicted."

"It's worth seeing. If Kiyoaki, Illia, and I take our bikes, we can take Cecil and Mio along on the back. Let’s enjoy the dawn together!"

"Hmm. Sounds fun. I'm okay with it, but... what about Mio?"

Kiyoaki and Reiner glanced at Mio. She looked back at the two boys with a somewhat uncertain expression.

For a moment, Reiner's gaze towards Mio held a serious tone.

Mio remembered Reiner's words from earlier when they were caught in the rain.

"Okay... but it’s not a big deal."

She nodded awkwardly. Kiyoaki leaned forward from the sofa, surprised.

"Really!? Mio is coming!?"

"Y-yeah... If it's not a bother."

"It wouldn’t be a bother at all! Awesome! Let’s go to the observatory to see the sunrise tomorrow morning, okay? Cecil and Illia, you're in too, right?!"

"If Mio is going, I want to go too!" "I'm fine with it. I can take my bike."

Kiyoaki literally bounced with excitement.

"Wow, I can't wait! So, where do we gather after the typhoon passes!?"

"It’s a bit early to decide, but how about we meet at the parking lot at five? It’ll take about thirty minutes to reach the observatory. It’s going to be romantic for sure! I’m getting excited!"

Reiner quickly made the arrangements and confirmed with everyone. Grateful to Reiner in his heart, Kiyoaki looked forward to tomorrow’s outing without a doubt.

"Mio, let’s make lunch together!"

Cecil's cheerful suggestion made Mio nod shyly. Outside, the howling wind was intensifying, overpowering the cozy atmosphere inside.

The next morning, at five a.m.

Kiyoaki, Reiner, Illia, Cecil, and Mio gathered at the parking lot.

"There’s still a little wind, but the typhoon has passed. We should be able to see the dawn."

As Illia said, it was a quiet darkness. The sunrise was around five thirty-five, so they had plenty of time to get there.

With excitement, Reiner said, "Let’s go! Cecil, ride behind me!"

"No way! I want to ride with Illia!"

"I see! Then Mio, ride with me..."

"Mio, ride behind me."

Kiyoaki interrupted Reiner's invitation, and Mio nodded hesitantly.

"Ah... okay... Please take care of me..."

Three bikes were parked in the parking lot, each belonging to Kiyoaki, Reiner, and Illia.

Illia had also gotten her license in August and quickly bought a second-hand 400cc full-cowl bike. It was a red model that perfectly suited Illia’s competitive personality.

"Illia, you look cool..."

Mio complimented Illia as she mounted her bike. Illia nodded awkwardly for some reason and said, "I really like it. It’s fun in its own way."

"Yeah... You look great. It’s really wonderful..."

"Okay, let’s not waste time and go! I hope we get to see the moment of sunrise!"

Cecil urged, and Mio took a seat behind Kiyoaki on his bike.

"Alright, let’s go!"

After confirming that Cecil had gotten on Illia's bike, Kiyoaki kicked the starter.

Once they hit the public road, the rain had stopped, but the sky remained dark. The air was thick with moisture, and the clouds were flowing swiftly overhead. As Reiner said, the weather after the typhoon was distinctly different.

Mio's small hand rested on Kiyoaki’s side. The sensation brought back memories of that island from a month ago.

— That surely wasn’t a dream.

Kiyoaki thought.

— But Mio denies it. He couldn’t understand why.

He wanted to ask her again about that night’s events, but it felt wrong to do so, creating an itch of confusion. With that frustration, they entered the mountain road.

There were no streetlights on the desolate road. Kiyoaki relied only on the headlights as he followed Reiner. The darkness and strong wind were familiar, and he had travelled this path enough times that he felt at ease. When they passed through bumps and small curves, Mio’s body occasionally pressed against his, a feeling that was indescribably pleasant.

— I want to ride with Mio like this many more times.

— If the original Mio returned, it would feel normal.

While he was lost in thought, they reached the observatory near the mountain’s peak. It was the same spot where he had gone touring with Illia in early spring, finally meeting her smiling face.

Suddenly, those feelings from that time resurfaced.

The strong urge that had driven him to seek out Illia.

That impulse intertwined with the emotions transmitted from Mio, who was sitting behind him.

— Mio and Illia.

The two he had never once compared in his mind were now clearly overlapping.

— If someone asked me to choose between them, who would I choose?

Such doubts suddenly rose, and Kiyoaki hesitated. It was a proposition he had never considered before.

— It’s not like they're objects. I can’t choose.

Kiyoaki watched Illia park the bike in the observatory’s parking lot.

As if sensing his gaze, Illia suddenly turned to look at Kiyoaki.

Their eyes met.

Illia’s expression stiffened for a moment before she quickly averted her face and helped Cecil dismount from the back.

For some reason, a more intense emotion seemed to come from Illia than usual.

Perhaps the source of that tension was the Mio in the back seat.

— That can’t be true...

Kiyoaki thought as he turned off the engine, lowered the centre stand, and looked back at Mio.

This time, Mio's gaze met Kiyoaki's. His heart skipped a beat. Mio also awkwardly looked away and got out of the back seat.

── Somehow, everything feels so clumsy...

Feeling a confusion he had never experienced before, Kiyoaki turned his eyes to the eastern sky.

"Oh, nice! The sunrise is about to happen!"

Reiner got off his bike with a grin.

"We made it! Yes, it's before dawn! I think we can expect something amazing!"

Cecil, excited, jumped off Illia's bike and ran to the edge of the observation deck. She leaned her arms against the wooden railing meant to prevent falls and bounced up and down.

Kiyoaki, Mio, and Reiner walked over to join Cecil, resting their hands on the railing.

A warm breeze carrying the scent of the sea flowed through. The entire island was hidden in the night. Thick clouds layered in the eastern sky were drifting, and through the gaps, a hint of crimson could be seen. The typhoon had moved southeast, so the sunrise should illuminate the area just cleared by the storm.

"Those clouds are amazing! I think we'll see a breathtaking view!"

Cecil eagerly focused her gaze on the eastern sky.

Light began to spread its arms across the bottom of the sky.

The cloud ring that had been boiling on the horizon began to shine with silver light. The lights outlining the clouds started to swell. The colours of the sky visible through the gaps between the clouds deepened into a rich crimson.

"The sunrise...!"

Cecil smiled and stretched both hands toward the eastern sky.

Into her arms, a brilliant red light that had sliced through the clouds poured in.

"Wow..."

Mio let out a small voice.

"Oh, this is great!"

Reiner exaggerated his delight.

Radiating outward into the sky, multiple red beams of light exploded. The overlapped clouds took on shadows, creating a complex tapestry of colours on their surfaces. The fine dust kicked up by the typhoon refracted the morning light, draping the flowing clouds in shades of purple, red, and deep blue.

"Wow, it's beautiful...!"

Illia couldn't help but exclaim in wonder.

The colours of the eastern sky reflected on the sea. The colours wove into the waves, creating a brocade of seven colours across the surface of the ocean.

"I've never seen a sky like this..."

Kiyoaki murmured. Though he was used to the scenery from flying every day during training, he had never encountered such a display hidden in the sky.

"Wow, this is amazing!"

Cecil jumped up, her smile radiant. The view from the observation deck was usually stunning, but this was a sight that would surely penetrate to the depths of their souls—a spectacle they would never forget.

"I'm so glad we came! For Reiner's suggestion, this is quite the achievement..."

"What’s that supposed to mean? My suggestions are always spot on!"

As the brightness of the light increased, the clouds were sliced apart by the wind, and the sunrise became visible above the horizon. Kiyoaki spotted a particularly dense and large cloud among the dispersing peaks.

"That cloud looks incredible..."

Cecil turned to look at the cloud Kiyoaki pointed out.

"Is that really a cloud...? Do clouds look like that?"

Indeed, it was an unusual cloud.

It was quite flat and spread out horizontally. Yet, the density of its colour was too high for it to be a layer of clouds, and while other clouds were moving rapidly, this one remained completely still. It seemed to stand out like a blemish in the sky.

From its colour, one could sense its mass. Rather than a water vapor mass, it seemed to be a substance floating in the air.

Just as such doubts erupted...

"Look, there’s one over there too..."

Cecil pointed to the northeastern sky. Kiyoaki turned his head left about ninety degrees from the cloud he had been watching and saw another suspicious layer of cloud exactly like the first.

"No, that’s not a cloud...!!"

Illia raised her voice firmly, her expression showing clear tension.

"That’s... bad."

Reiner murmured.

Kiyoaki strained his eyes. As the sun rose, the full form of the cloud became clear.

Just as Illia said, it wasn’t a cloud. There were what appeared to be artificial structures reflecting sunlight on the flat upper surfaces, rising up in clusters.

They were unmistakably man-made structures. There was only one thing in this world that could be floating in the air like that.

"…A floating island…!!"

"Urano airborne fortress!!"

As Illia shouted, countless specks of debris were released from the surface of the flying island.

Like columns of mosquitoes, hundreds of tiny shadows gathered.

In the distance, at an altitude of about three thousand meters, numerous formations assembled, altogether becoming eight groups as they approached Air Hunt Island.

Cecil's lips trembled.

"That, that, that can’t be...!!"

"Fighters... Type 3 Idra!!"

"There are also bombers...!"

Nearly three hundred flying machines launched from the two airborne fortresses approached Air Hunt Island at an incredible speed.

The allied fighter planes standing by for interception were nowhere to be seen. Despair turned into words.

"No one has noticed!!"

"The airborne fortress was hiding in the typhoon! Radar wouldn’t detect it!"

Illia looked down at the naval port. Below her, the newly organized fleet moored in Sanjiru Bay was visible in the dawn light.

"The new ship is still anchored; it's a target!!"

Finally, distant sirens began to echo through the island. But the response was clearly too slow. The enemy aircraft were already upon them.

In the distance, a sound like distant drums shook the air. Smoke was rising from the coastal anti-aircraft gun positions. A bouquet of anti-aircraft shells was launched toward the approaching Idra formations.

The magnificent sight of the morning light was about to instantly transform into that of a battlefield. Watching the black blossoms bloom in mid-air, Cecil urged in a panic,

"The fight is about to start, but if we stay here...!!"

Reiner unusually spoke seriously.

"No, it’s better to stay here. We won't be targeted here."

Upon hearing this, Illia agreed.

"…It was a stroke of luck that we came here at this time. If we had been at school, we might have been attacked from the air. At least for us, there’s no immediate danger to our lives. We should be grateful to Reiner, even if it was by coincidence."

She said this to reassure Cecil. For the time being, the enemy's attack targets were military facilities and fuel depots. After they destroyed those, they could aim for the water supply and residential areas, along with other public facilities. However, the enemy would not waste bombs on an empty mountain observation deck. As Illia said, thanks to Reiner's suggestion to enjoy the sunrise, the five of them could safely wait here and avoid the aerial assault.

"Hey, Mio, stay put here too..."

Just as he was about to say this and turned his gaze to Mio beside him, Kiyoaki was once again shocked.

Mio had turned pale and was crouched on the ground. It seemed her legs had given out and she couldn’t stand. Sitting on the ground, her eyes were wide open, her lips drained of colour, and they trembled.

"Mio...! Are you okay? It's not scary..."

Kiyoaki thought she was trembling in fear of the Urano assault. He hurriedly crouched down to get a closer look at her. Mio was shaking all over as if facing the Grim Reaper.

From her lips, a faint voice slipped out.

"Reiner, is this what you meant...?"

"…Huh?"

"…You said our everyday lives wouldn’t return... is this what you meant?"

"Mio...?"

Mio lifted her face. Her gaze passed right by Kiyoaki and locked onto Reiner's profile a bit further away. Her voice was so small that it didn’t even reach Reiner.

"…What have I done…?"

It was clearly strange. Kiyoaki couldn't understand why Reiner was involved here. Just when it seemed like Mio was finally returning to her original self, she was about to fall back into an unusual state again.

"Mio!"

When he called out strongly, her jade-coloured eyes trembled as they looked up at Kiyoaki.

"...I didn't mean to..."

"What are you saying!? Just hang in there! If you stay here, you’ll be fine, so don’t move from this spot...!"

Encouraging Mio, Kiyoaki bent down to look up at Illia.

Illia was staring intently at the approaching squadron. Under the canopy of fighter planes, the bomber formation had moved in, clearly heading towards the new fleet that was about to dock in Sanjiru Bay.

"The enemy's targets are the new battleship and the new aircraft carrier. At this rate, we will be overwhelmed by their air power...!"

Saying this, Illia turned her gaze to Kiyoaki.

Kiyoaki could painfully feel what Illia was hoping for. And he too was becoming aware of his instincts as an airship pilot stirring within him.

—Staying here and doing nothing is out of the question.

—I will fight. For everyone living on this island.

It had been nearly a year since he transferred to the Air Hunt Officer Academy. He couldn’t just sit back and watch his friends and the kind people of the island be caught in the flames of war. He had the knowledge and skills to fight.

"Let’s go to the airfield, Illia. If we equip Gray Fox with live ammunition, we can fight."

Illia hesitated for a moment at Kiyoaki's words, but then nodded.

"Alright. Let’s go. The other three should stay here. Until the air raid is over, you must not move."

Reiner exchanged glances with Cecil before shrugging.

"Hey, are you serious? What’s a student going to do by going out there? Just stay here."

Kiyoaki leaned forward, rejecting this.

"Illia and I have the skills to operate fighter planes. We have to fight for this island."

"Are you stupid? You can’t do anything! This isn't practice; it's the real deal. And the enemy is a large military force. It’s like going to your death."

"That doesn’t mean I’m going to just watch this island get destroyed. Reiner, you protect Mio and Cecil here. We’re going."

Hearing Illia's words, Reiner scratched the back of his head with an exasperated expression.

"I'm just trying to be nice here. Well, if you want to throw your life away that badly, I won’t stop you. But if you regret it later, it’ll be too late."

His words were cold, a stark contrast to his usual self. Cecil also agreed with Reiner.

"Illia, stop. I have a bad feeling about this. This is nothing like the battles before..."

"You won't die. We’ll make it back alive. So, Cecil, you stay here...!?"

Illia's words trailed off abruptly.

Suddenly—

A massive four-wheel drive vehicle pulled up to the observation deck and screeched to a halt.

The doors swung open, and four military police officers leaped out.

"There they are, seize them!!"

"Don't move! Raise your hands! Behave yourselves!!"

Shouting, they drew their guns and pointed them at Kiyoaki and the others.

Kiyoaki couldn't comprehend what was happening before his eyes.

There were too many sudden developments for his mind to handle. Just as two airships appeared from the storm, military police burst onto the mountain observation deck, pointing their guns at them without provocation.

"W-wait, what are you doing all of a sudden...?!"

"Don't move!!"

The officers were serious. Pressured by their intensity, Kiyoaki, Reiner, Illia, and Cecil raised their hands.

Only Mio remained slumped on the ground, staring vacantly at the military police officers.

"That blonde girl, be careful! Don’t let your guard down just because she’s a girl!!"

Like they were dealing with a criminal, the officers cautiously approached Mio, their guns still aimed at her.

"Hey! That girl hasn’t done anything!!"

Kiyoaki shouted, not understanding what was happening. Mio, still with a vacant expression, looked at the surrounding officers with indifference.

"You are Mio, daughter of Ethan Syira, correct?"

".................."

"I have some questions for you. You will come with us to the police station."

Without allowing any objections, the large officers seized Mio from both sides.

Mio showed no signs of resistance. She simply bowed her head, forced to stand up.

Kiyoaki’s eyes widened in disbelief.

"W-what are you doing!?"

The officer who seemed to be the leader fixed his gaze on Kiyoaki.

"Are you a friend of Mio Syira? What were you doing here?"

"What do you mean, we just came to enjoy the view...?"

"The island is about to become a battlefield. If you all stay here, you’ll be safe. Stay put until the fighting is over, got it?"

The officer gave a short command and directed them to put Mio into the back seat of the vehicle. Kiyoaki was furious.

"Why! Mio hasn’t done anything to get captured!!"

The officer, appearing anxious, confirmed that Mio had gotten into the vehicle before addressing Kiyoaki.

"Her father was captured in Crossnodal. He was leaking information to Urano. Currently, the entire family is being detained."

"W-what...? What is that...!?"

The officer explained the situation as if trying to convince Kiyoaki.

"The Syira family is a family of spies. There are suspicions regarding Mio Syira’s involvement as well. There’s a high possibility she has been leaking information to Urano."

Kiyoaki’s mouth hung open in shock.

He couldn't comprehend the current situation with any logic. Illia and Cecil, just like Kiyoaki, could only stand there with their hands raised, unable to grasp what was unfolding before them.

"N-no, this must be a mistake...!"

"That’s impossible!!"

After confirming that Mio was secured, the officer looked up at the sky and addressed Kiyoaki and the others.

"There’s a possibility that this girl could help Urano with their landing. To prepare for the worst, we are detaining her. I understand you’re worried about your friend, but please refrain from unnecessary actions and stay here until the air raid is over. Understood?"

It seemed that the officer knew that Kiyoaki and the others, including Mio, were among the "Seven of Eriadore." He likely believed that stirring trouble with famous individuals from Air Hunt Island would disrupt operations later on, as his words included warnings and attempts to calm them.

"Once the questioning is over, we will release Mio Syira immediately. To avoid any suspicions afterward, we just need her to stay with us during the air raid. This is for her own safety as well. Understand? If you meddle further, the situation will become even more complicated. I know this doesn’t sit well with you, but until the fighting is over, please don’t stir up any trouble regarding this matter."

As soon as the officer finished speaking, a heavy rumble ran through the island.

The sound of explosions echoed against the mountain face. Looking down, they saw the bombardment of the military port had begun.

"It’s starting! Hurry up and get moving, if you dawdle, you’ll be targeted by enemy planes!"

The officer got into the passenger seat of the vehicle and urged the driver to hurry. Kiyoaki could no longer comprehend anything. He merely stared, wide-eyed, as the burning military port, the fighter planes finally taking off above the airfield, and the vehicle carrying Mio sped away from the observation deck.

His thoughts were frozen.

He didn’t understand what was happening.

"What... is this...?"

He could barely manage to mutter.

From below, the shockwaves of the bombardment rushed through. He felt a faint wave of heat in the undulating atmosphere. In Sanjiru Bay, the anti-aircraft guns were spitting flames desperately, and threading through that narrow space, the Urano bomber "Actaeon" unleashed a five-hundred-kilogram bomb upon the new battleship. The island had already transformed into a battlefield.

"W-what is going on!? How did things come to this...!?"

Cecil, unable to keep up with the situation, was at a loss and started to cry.

Even Illia, usually so composed, looked flustered and questioned Kiyoaki.

"Why was Mio captured...? What does it mean to be from a family of spies!?"

Kiyoaki could only shake his head.

"I-I don’t know... But I know this must be a mistake...! Right, Reiner? You think so too!?"

Desperately, he cast a glance at Reiner beside him.

Reiner was staring ahead down the road where the military police had vanished, his expression more severe than ever before. While everyone else was surprised and flustered, Reiner remained silent, deep in thought. After calling to him several times, Kiyoaki finally brought him back to his usual carefree self.

“Uh… Sorry. I was surprised. Um… What’s going on? Alright… let’s do this. Cecil and I will go to the police station. Illia and Kiyoaki will head to the airfield. How does that sound?”

“Eh!? Uh, um…”

“It’s a mistake. There’s no way Mio would do anything bad. Cecil and I will handle this; you guys just go to the airfield. Okay?”

“But if that’s the case, we should go to the police station too…!!”

“No, you guys have something to do. You’re going to fight to protect this island, right? If you’re going that far, I won’t stop you. Go ahead and do it. Leave Mio to us.”

Despite initially trying to stop him, Reiner suddenly began recommending that they go into combat. After a few exchanges, it was ultimately Kiyoaki who was persuaded.

“…Got it. Yeah. Illia and I can fight in the air, so… Cecil, please take care of Mio.”

“Y-Yes! I’ll testify to Mio’s innocence!”

“We’re heading to the airfield, Illia. We have to do what we can.”

“Yeah, let’s go. Cecil, wait for us. We’ll definitely come back…”

“…You two, be safe. Don’t die on me. I really don’t want that.”

“We won’t die. We’ll definitely return.”

Illia smiled reassuringly and mounted her beloved vehicle.

Ahead, the Urano air squadron was now distinguishable by type even with the naked eye. While friendly aircraft were taking off to engage, they were clearly outnumbered. In no time, flames began to erupt from various locations across the island.

The dawn’s glow was scorched by the flames of the land. Air Hunt Island, which Kiyoaki considered a second home, was now on the verge of being burned to the ground by Urano.

“I won’t let it happen…!”

Kiyoaki murmured and kicked the starter. Memories of the invasion of Messus Island four years ago surged back to him. Back then, he was powerless, watching his beloved sister get killed right in front of him. He could only weep at the sight of his burning homeland and the brutal remains of his parents.

He couldn’t bear to feel that way again. He wouldn’t let his homeland be burned twice. Now, he had the strength to fight.

──Mio’s situation is a mistake. Reiner will prove that.

──Right now, I just don’t want to lose this island, this school, and the people I care about.

──I will fight against Urano.

Carrying that single thought, Kiyoaki and Illia cut through the wind toward the airfield.

Toaru Hikuushi e no Seiyaku:V3Part1

2025-12-01T02:47:09Z

QCore:

Volume 3 Part 18 (Continued) (Part 1 of Volume 3): Air Hunt Officer Academy

==Air Hunt Officer Academy (Continuation)==

Looking up, the sky had turned into a thick, rocky mass. Just moments ago, it had been a clear October sky, but now, the rugged surface stretched as far as the eye could see, exerting a dull pressure on the blazing ground below.

A huge rudder, over five hundred meters long, sliced through the turbulent atmosphere. The sound of propulsion units set at its perimeter reverberated through the airspace. Amidst the roar that distorted the space, shards of shattered airship machinery fell like blue copper-coloured powdery snow onto the ground ablaze.

The flames would not die down. As they devoured the iron snow, their intensity increased, roasting the rocky ceiling from below.

The narrow space between the ground and the rocky ceiling was filled with flames, dust, mechanical debris, and the screams of fleeing people. Suddenly deprived of the sky, their city destroyed, people emerged from their burning homes, unsure of where to go, merely wandering in the hell of heat.

In the year 1338 of the Imperial Calendar, October, Karanakuta Island in the Duchy of Clefelde──.

Mio Flores knelt on the ground, her hands on her ears, her gaze returning from the sky to the pile of rubble before her.

She couldn’t comprehend the meaning of this scene.

The Flores family should have welcomed another peaceful morning today.

Surrounded by her father, who worked for a trading company, and her gentle mother, eight-year-old Mio was preparing to go to school. Having just turned eight this year, she was now in the lower grades. After downing a jam bread with hot milk and bidding her parents farewell, she stepped out of the house, only for the next moment to find her home blown to smithereens.

Then, a swarm of airships covered the sky.

Silver-gray and deep green airships tangled together, exchanging fierce gunfire, and soon only the silver-gray ones remained in the sky.

Bombs rained down like a storm, swiftly incinerating the airfield, anti-air facilities, and urban areas.

What should have been unchanged peace was, in just a few moments, painted over with death, flames, and destruction.

“Damn it, it's Kalkinos!” “Why is a flying fortress attacking such a remote area?!” “The Duke of Clefelde is finished; everyone run!”

The adults shouted in panic. Mio, unable to think, remained sitting in front of the rubble where her parents were buried.

Eventually, the world turned dark in broad daylight.

A massive flying island loomed overhead, dragging the sound of propulsion units with it.

The Ninth Air Fortress of Urano, "Kalkinos."

The words that the adults had shouted earlier barely brushed against Mio's mind.

Her familiar city was being engulfed in flames. The air fortress above did not move, sitting at an altitude of two thousand meters as if observing the fleeing people below.

Mio did not run away; she simply prayed to wake up from this nightmare as she stared at the mountain of rubble.

She had no memory of what followed.

She felt someone’s shouting voice nearby, and she was forcibly lifted by a soldier in an unfamiliar uniform and placed in the back of a truck with a tarp.

Without the ability to think, she was unloaded from the truck in an unknown wasteland, chased by soldiers with guns, and confined to a prefab building surrounded by a fence.

The air fortress had disappeared from the sky. In its place, soldiers of the Hydrabard Army landed and had nearly taken control of all major facilities on Karanakuta Island.

Most of the surviving adults were either coerced at gunpoint by the Hydrabard Army or confined in this isolated area filled with prefabs.

The Duke of Clefelde, who had governed Karanakuta Island on behalf of the Sylvania royal family, was captured and taken to the capital of the Hydrabard Union. The leader of the Olg Party, Dizzy Osborn, who ruled the Hydrabard Parliament, intended to seize all that belonged to the Sylvania royal family. The Duke of Clefelde's fate had already been sealed.

The adults in the camp spent their days discussing such matters. Mio, whether she wanted to or not, could only recognize that this was not a nightmare, but reality. She searched for her parents in the camp but found not a single person she recognized.

Unable to enter the bathroom, her hands and feet caked in mud, there were no friends her age, nor acquaintances in the camp. The area where Mio had lived had suffered extensive damage from the bombardment, making her survival nothing short of miraculous.

Hope was nowhere to be found. She wished to die.

──If I die, I can meet Papa and Mama.

When she resolved this way, the camp leader called for her.

A man expressed a desire to meet with Mio.

──It must be Papa.

With joy radiating through her body, she rushed into the leader's office, only to find a well-dressed, unfamiliar man in his fifties waiting for her.

“You’ve grown up, Mio. You’re already eight. Do you remember me?”

The man spoke in an overly friendly manner, but she had no recollection of him. Disappointment and anxiety made Mio shrink away as the man gently smiled at her.

“It’s no wonder. We met when you were just three years old. Your father and mother were kind and gentle people.”

The man introduced himself as Ethan Syira, a distant relative—specifically, the son of her grandfather’s brother. Since she had only met her grandfather once or twice and had little contact with her relatives, Mio had no way of verifying if what Ethan said was true.

“You don’t have to worry about what comes next. We have many siblings in similar circumstances to you. Don’t worry; you’ll get along with them right away. It’ll be a much better place than here.”

It seemed that Ethan was going to take Mio in. Judging by the leader's attitude toward him, he appeared to be a person of considerable standing. The normally overbearing leader nodded along with every word Ethan said and went out of his way to flatter him, even praising Mio to keep on his good side.

“Will you come with me, Mio?”

With kindness gathered in the wrinkles at the corners of his eyes, Ethan asked her this.

Having lost her parents, knowing no one, and only wishing for death, Mio abandoned the very notion of choice. She didn’t even want to think. Staring into Ethan’s eyes, she stood there silently. She doubted whether this man was really a relative, fearing he might be a trafficker, yet at that moment, she had even lost interest in her own fate.

Mio left the camp and boarded an airship with Ethan to journey to the Harmonia Empire. Along the way, they encountered a large low-pressure system, but a highly skilled airman expertly navigated through the gaps in the clouds, and they arrived safely at their destination. Ethan worked as a diplomat for the St Vault Empire and was currently stationed in Harmonia. What awaited her there was a life that felt like a dream.

Wonderful older brothers and sisters, and adorable younger brothers and sisters awaited Mio. Although they shared no blood ties, they were all beautiful, intelligent, and had gentle, amiable personalities. The Syira couple had no biological children and had taken in children who had lost their families from all over the world.

“God brought you all to me,” Ethan often said with a smile. Mio’s adoptive mother, Greta, was a modest and gentle woman who treated her many adopted children as if they were her own.

Suddenly losing her parents, having her hometown burned, and preparing for death in a camp, Mio found herself surrounded by lively siblings in a wealthy household and felt constantly bewildered. Her siblings were all kind, inviting the shy Mio to play games together or go on picnics, actively trying to include her as part of the family. Thanks to the Syira siblings, she smoothly acclimated to her new gymnasium, where every day felt like a party, playing until she was completely exhausted by the time dinner was over.

As she spent those days, Mio realized that the sadness of losing her parents was gradually fading.

Feeling like a shallow person, she decided every night before sleeping to imagine her real parents' faces behind her eyelids. It felt too cruel to forget them. With that thought, Mio clung to her grief. This pain and sorrow were, in fact, the very memories of her parents that would fade with time. Even though she was taken in by a wealthy family and lived a glamorous life, her heart remained closed off.

Two years passed since Mio arrived at the Syira family, on a winter night.

Having crawled into bed but unable to sleep, she somewhat aimlessly went downstairs to the living room and saw Ethan sitting by the warm fireplace.

Suddenly, an inexplicable sadness surged within her. For no particular reason, she felt an overwhelming urge to cry. Mio approached Ethan and leaned against his knee.

“What’s wrong, Mio?”

Putting down the book he was reading, Ethan kindly asked her. Mio placed her hands on his thighs, buried her face there, and sobbed.

Ethan quietly rubbed her back. After her tears subsided, Mio, without raising her face, asked:

“Why did you pick me up?”

“I’ve told you many times. It’s God’s will. Saint Aldista responded to my faith.”

“That’s not what I mean. There are plenty of poor children in the world, right? Why me?”

“Oh? Is that what’s on your mind?”
[[File:MioChild.png|thumb]]
“Yeah.”

Ethan gently patted Mio's head.

“You’re a smart girl. Even though you’re only ten. More than I expected.”

“Did you pick me because I’m smart?”

“I knew you were a good child. You did well in school, had a bright and honest personality, and were popular with everyone. Moreover, your parents were believers of the Unified Church of Aldista, which is significant. You love Saint Aldista, don’t you?”

“Yeah. Saint Aldista is always with us.”

"That’s why I brought you to our home, knowing all of these things. I couldn’t bear the thought of you dying in a detention camp. I believed that if I brought you into a proper environment, you would have even more potential to grow."

“You investigated me, didn’t you?”

“To put it simply, yes.”

“What about Pubrita, Yan, and Carmen?”

Mio named her close siblings and asked. Ethan smiled.

“Everyone, yes. I want to give many children with potential opportunities to soar into the world. Since my wife and I cannot have children, your growth into splendid adults will be proof of our lives.”

“Proof of life…”

Mio rolled the words around in her mouth. The proof of her real parents’ lives was herself, and at the same time, for Ethan and Greta, her existence was proof of their lives too.

──The proof of my parents lives is me.

She decided to accept that and live on. She believed that surely both her real parents and her new parents would be pleased. With determination, Mio finally voiced the question she had long wanted to ask.

“Hey.”

“Yeah?”

“If I call you "Papa," will you get angry?”

Ethan knelt beside her, wrapping his arms around her.

Love flowed from the big arms that encircled her.

“Papa.”

Mio called his name.

“Mio.”

“Papa.”

“I love you.”

“I love you too.”

In Ethan’s embrace, Mio felt the sadness she had carried for two years melting away.

This man is my father, and this is my home.

Mio accepted that.

From the next day, Mio Syira began to act as a member of the Syira family alongside her siblings.

Bright, energetic, and intelligent Mio became even more popular with everyone.

The Syira family was quite wealthy, often attending garden parties and social gatherings weekly, hosting a party at home once a month. Visitors were always from the upper class, and while playing with their children, Mio naturally acquired manners and behaviour.

Mio’s hometown, Karanakuta Island, was under the rule of the Sylvania royal family, so she was familiar with the Sylvania way of speaking and etiquette, which was regarded with curiosity. Simply showcasing courtly manners that the children of Harmonia didn’t know made her popular, prompting Mio to secretly study about the Sylvania royal family in books and even act like Princess Elisabeth of Sylvania in front of everyone. The adults praised her, and Mio felt as if she had become a princess herself.

She was happy.

As time passed, her sadness healed, and the people of the Syira family became an irreplaceable family for Mio.

She became aware of her fortune, grateful to her parents, thankful for her siblings, and appreciative of this life. She strongly wished to become a person who could someday repay her parents.

──Just as Papa helped me, I want to be of help to him someday.

Her happy life in Harmonia ended in the summer when she turned twelve.

Ethan was transferred to the island of Odessa in the Akitsu Federation, and Mio was to leave the city to attend a new school on a remote island. Sad to part from her newly made friends, she sulked when she arrived in Odessa, where she would meet Sakagami Kiyoaki, a boy her age.

Time passed──.

“Papa, you keep getting transferred, don’t you?”

Arriving at an airport she had never visited before, seventeen-year-old Mio Syira sighed as she looked out at the landscape of Crossnodal, the largest island in the Northern Sea, holding her caged bird, Fio, in one hand.

In late December of the year 1347 of the Imperial Calendar, in the capital of Crossnodal, Rubra──.

Taking advantage of the winter break from the Air Hunt Officer Academy, Mio had come to this place to see her parents.

At the airport, among the locals with dark skin, many white-skinned St Vault people could also be seen. Though Crossnodal was a splendid independent country governed by the Crossnodal People’s Government, the entire island was effectively defended by the St Vault Army under the pretence of being an allied force. Soldiers of the Crossnodal Army, clad in distinctive yellow-green camouflage, were seen on the ground in small numbers, but their main duty was to maintain internal security rather than defence.

──Can we call ourselves an independent country with foreign troops stationed in our homeland?

As she gazed out at the scenery of Crossnodal from the carriage window drawn by two horses, Mio harboured such doubts. Surely, that could be said. For a poor country, it was easier not to have to bear defence costs and could allocate precious budgets to investments. In return, they had to comply with the demands of St Vault, but this was a better judgment than being incorporated into the Hydrabard Union under the rule of the Olg Party. The Hydrabard Union, governed by the blood of Urano, with Dizzy Osborn, the leader of the Olg Party, now coveted Crossnodal Island.

──It’s necessary for survival, huh…

In today’s world, strong nations trample on weak nations, robbing them of all they possess, and no one can judge them for it. The laments of the weak are disregarded, and it’s not uncommon for entire nations or peoples to perish simply because they were weak.

In this world, being weak is considered evil.

If one doesn’t want to perish, the only choice is to grow stronger. The Crossnodal’s state of throwing away pride seems to be a necessary wisdom for the weak to survive.

Soon, the carriage entered the foreigner residential area.

The old wooden streets disappeared, replaced by the familiar white architecture of St Vault. As a developing island, the influence of the St Vault currency “Pesos” was immense, with the splendid white mansions competing along the road. No matter how much the Crossnodal government tried to maintain its appearance, the island’s landscape was completely that of a colony of the St Vault Empire.

The carriage stopped before a magnificent mansion in the upscale district with a great view. After tipping the driver arranged by her family, Mio stared in amazement at the Syira family's new home, holding the birdcage in her hand.

Though she had lived in grand mansions in Harmonia and on Messus Island, this one was even more grandiose. It was a three-story building with wings on either side, as if it could belong to royalty.

Then, the beautifully carved gate opened, and her younger siblings, who had noticed the carriage, rushed out with broad smiles and hugged her.

“Sister!!”

“Whoa!”

Thirteen-year-old Bonita, ten-year-old Kazuki, and seven-year-old Dominic clung to Mio, not letting go.

“Hey, hey! Alright, alright, let go! It’s too tight, it hurts!”

Mio grimaced, but her younger siblings were too excited to see their beloved sister again after so long.

“Mio, welcome back! We missed you so much, Mio, don’t go again!”

Especially clingy Dominic buried his dark face into Mio’s chest and held on tightly. As she stroked his curly hair with one hand, Mio smiled wryly.

“Dominic, you’ve gotten stronger! You’re definitely a boy now! So let go a bit…”

“I want to be petted too!”

It seemed Kazuki, who was still clinging to Mio, wasn’t pleased to see Dominic getting all the attention and pushed his head toward her. While petting Kazuki with her remaining hand, Mio turned to Bonita.

“Bonita, how have you been? Kazuki hasn’t been bullying you, has he?”

Bonita, who had been holding her hands behind her back, raised her face with a smile.

“I’m fine! Mio, you look beautiful! Kiyoaki will be thrilled too, right?”

“Hey, what are you talking about? More importantly, can someone deal with this…”

Finally, managing to pry her younger siblings off her, she opened the birdcage and released Fio into the air.

“Fio’s doing great too!” “Let’s make him fight with my Sodom!”

Dominic named his pet bird “Sodom” and took care of it. It was a custom of the Syira family for each sibling to be given a pet bird. Mio grimaced.

“Stop it; Fio is tired too. Are Papa and Mama home?”

“Mom’s here. Dad suddenly got called away. He hasn’t been coming home until late recently.”

“Oh, I see. He’s as busy as ever, huh? I want to make something special for him since it’s been a while…”

“Mom’s making a lot of food! You don’t have to do anything, just play with me!”

With Dominic clinging to her right hand and Kazuki to her left, Mio smiled wryly as she entered the overwhelmingly splendid new home to greet her mother.

Ethan returned home around nine o'clock in the evening.

Though exhausted from keeping up with the rambunctious Kazuki and Dominic, Mio’s face lit up at the sight of her father after so long.

“Papa, I’m back. Thank you for your hard work. Would you like something to eat?”

“Welcome back, Mio. I’ve already eaten. Take it easy; it’s been a while since you came back.”

Ethan opened his arms to embrace Mio. She buried her face in his chest, inhaling the familiar scents of his cigar and pomade.

“You’ve changed so much. Is it thanks to the officer academy’s training? You’ve grown quite dignified.”

Ethan gently patted Mio’s head. His voice was as calm as always, but somehow he seemed less spirited than before.

──Papa, you’ve aged…

She thought this but didn’t say it out loud. After putting her younger siblings to bed, she prepared a glass of brandy for her father, who returned to the living room after taking a bath.

Finally, peace returned to the Syira household. The soft orange glow of the lampshade enveloped Mio and Ethan.

It had been a while since it was just the two of them. Enjoying the pleasant silence, Mio spoke up.

“Papa, are you tired? Are you okay?”

“Does it look that way?”

“Just a bit. You seem a little down. Is work busy?”

“...Yeah. It’s really busy. Especially during times like these.”

Ethan, in his gown, answered with an oddly melancholic tone while fiddling with his glass. The ice crunched as it broke into the amber liquid, producing a clear sound.

“...I can’t afford to rest. This is a job with significant responsibility. This island is the gateway for our St Vault Empire to land in the Southern Sea. It’s one of the most critical strategic points. The ambassador’s duties are far more extensive than others.”

This time, Ethan was in Crossnodal as the ambassador of St Vault. His role involved negotiating directly with the leaders of the Crossnodal government, military commanders, and others in the sphere of power, which was undoubtedly harsher than Mio could imagine. The crow's feet around her father’s eyes tightened her chest.

──I want to help Papa someday.

She felt this deeply.

The happiness she enjoyed now was all thanks to Ethan.

If she hadn’t met Ethan, she would have likely withered away and died in that camp.

She wanted to repay him for giving her this life.

──I want him to think, “I’m glad I picked up Mio.”

“I wish there was something I could help with,” she said somewhat hesitantly, and Ethan smiled weakly.

“Mio, you’re a good girl.”

“Well, I wouldn’t want Papa to die from overwork.”

Then, as if waiting for those words, Ethan straightened up on the sofa and turned a serious gaze toward Mio.

“...Actually, I have a favour to ask. There’s someone who wants to meet you.”

“...?”

“They’ll be coming to our house in three days. Is that okay with your schedule?”

“W-What? Who is it?”

“...A very important business partner.”

“Someone important?”

“...Yes. They’ve been waiting for this opportunity. They heard you were coming back home and made the trip from afar to see you.”

“W-What does that mean? They’re coming to see me? ...Is that, um, like a personal thing?”

“It’s not a matchmaking meeting. He’s a married man. It’s purely for business. Will you meet him?”

Ethan’s tone was unusually firm, leaving no room for argument. Although feeling somewhat pressured, Mio nodded uncertainly.

“...Papa, are you okay? You seem a bit different than usual.”

“...Is that so? ...It might be. ...In times like these, I sometimes have to rely on my daughter’s strength.”

“You want to... rely on me?”

“...It’s a bit shameful for a father to say this. But it’s a job only you can do. And... it’s definitely not a pleasant one.”

It seemed that the message carried by the envoy would be serious. She had never seen Ethan look so worn and sorrowful.

She didn’t know the details, but judging by her father’s demeanour, it was likely something complicated.

Although a sense of unease welled up within her...

──A job only I can do.

That was a heartwarming phrase. Mio smiled.

“So, I can be of help to Papa?”

“...”

“Ever since I was a child, I’ve always been the one receiving, right? So, I guess that means I’ve become someone who can do something for you.”

“Mio...”

She circled around the back of the sofa and hugged her beloved father from behind.

“It’s okay. I’ll do anything. Thanks to you, I am who I am today. I’m so happy because I got to meet Papa. Now I can finally repay you a little. I’m so glad.”

Ethan lovingly stroked Mio’s arms.

“...It’s a tough role.”

“Compared to what happened with the Eriadore, it’s nothing. I’ve been awarded Honors for this, after all. The daily tasks in Air Hunt are all tough, so I’m used to it. Thanks to you, I’ve grown strong.”

Jokingly, Mio leaned her cheek against her father’s hair and closed her eyes.

“Mio.”

“Yeah?”

“I’m always praying for your happiness.”

“I know. I’m praying that Papa stays healthy forever, too.”

The parent and child closed their eyes, feeling each other’s warmth.

Entrusting herself to the warmth rising from the depths of her heart, Mio prayed only for her gratitude toward her father and for the happiness of their family.

Three days later──.

Receiving the request to meet alone, Mio wore a trendy, puff-sleeved afternoon dress, draped a white shawl over her shoulders, and settled into a deck chair in the designated royal park, waiting for her visitor.

It was certainly an unusual guest. Perhaps he didn’t want to face his younger siblings. This was a park exclusively for the upper nobility, where garden parties for royal guests were held. Even when passing through the gate in a carriage, there were meticulous checks, and the pass handed to her father beforehand was scrutinized thoroughly to ensure it wasn’t forged. There was no one else in the park besides Mio, and the winter-bare tree-lined paths glimmered coldly.

Then, a horse-drawn carriage approached along the desolate path.

The sound of the wheels grew closer and stopped right in front of her.

A man in his mid-forties, dressed in an elegant gray suit, stepped down. As he recognized Mio, he approached with a cheerful smile.

Even from afar, his well-toned physique was evident above the suit, and his clean silver hair shone. Behind his rimless glasses, he wore a friendly, gentle smile.

At first glance, Mio felt a sense of relief.

Given her father's attitude yesterday and the suspicious nature of this meeting place, she had braced herself for a rather dubious character, but the man who appeared seemed genuinely amiable and harmless.

“You must be Mio Syira,” he said cheerfully, taking off his hat and bowing. When Mio extended the back of her right hand in greeting, he knelt and kissed it over his gloves.

“I am Zenon Kavaris, Assistant Minister of the Harmonian Foreign Ministry. I deeply apologize for the suddenness of this meeting; I hope I did not startle you.”

“No, not at all. I was feeling quite bored. So, you are from Harmonia? Your manner of speaking is nostalgic.”

Indeed, there was a distinct Harmonian accent in Zenon’s St Vault language. That fact somewhat eased her wariness.

“I’d like to talk while we take a stroll,” he suggested.

“Of course. The weather is lovely.”

Mio stood up, holding her parasol in one hand, and walked alongside Zenon down the afternoon tree-lined path.

Zenon had been a social acquaintance of Ethan since his assignment to Harmonia, often meeting at friendly card games or wine tastings. They had known each other for over ten years and sometimes exchanged information for the benefit of their nations.

“Ultimately, meeting people is my job, and after years of doing this, you gradually become attuned to a sort of wall between yourself and others. You might find me a bit too familiar, but please excuse it as a professional habit.”

With a cheerful smile, Zenon said this. He certainly seemed easy-going and approachable. Riding along on his gentle rhythm, Zenon’s ability to use a variety of expressions made listening to him rare and enjoyable.

“The job of a diplomat is fundamentally about building connections in your assigned location. One must always be punctual, remember the faces and names of all the dignitaries met at a party, understand the circumstances of each nation, and use that knowledge in conversation. Since we interact with people from various countries, we must never be rude; sometimes, we even investigate their family situations before meeting them.”

“It sounds demanding. My father works late every night, too.”

“Your father is an exceptionally skilled man. I am a diplomat from Harmonia, and while I shouldn’t be on friendly terms with Mr. Ethan, I respect him as a person. Even if our nations are at odds, communication between individuals is still possible.”

Zenon’s words delighted Mio. Despite the long history of conflict between Harmonia and St Vault, it was wonderful to think that diplomats from the two countries trusted each other.

“That’s wonderful. I wish the nations could develop that kind of trust and friendship.”

When she said this casually, Zenon smiled as well.

“Before peace can be established between nations, connections must first be forged between individuals. We should cooperate more. Don’t you think?”

Mio sensed this was a serious matter. Though she didn’t know the specifics, it must be a peaceful purpose since her father was involved.

“Absolutely. I hope there’s something I can do as well.”

“Just like the daughter of Mr. Ethan, I have a place I’d like you to see first. Let’s head up those stairs. It’s a bit of a climb.”

Following his lead, they ascended the steep slope at the western edge of the park, reaching a high point. After walking a short gravel path, they arrived at an observation deck.

The elevation was about a hundred meters. Mio looked down at the cityscape of Crossnodal, inhaling the pleasant breeze deeply.

“It’s a lovely spot.”

Beyond the red roofs of the foreigner district, there were clusters of tin-roofed wooden houses where locals lived, and beyond that was the sea. Many small sailboats, used by locals for fishing, floated on the sparkling white waves, among which were silhouettes of St Vault’s coastal defence ships and transport vessels. Without the warships, it was merely a shabby fishing port where the impoverished islanders lived simple, peaceful lives.

“Soon, war will reach this place as well,” Zenon said quietly. It was something Mio had also anticipated.

“Urano, right?”

“Yes. They are trying to seize control of the entire archipelago through the Olg party and the Hydrabard Alliance.”

“…That’s terrifying. If only they didn’t exist, the world would be at peace.”

“Do you truly believe that?”

“…?”

“Do you think the world would be at peace if Urano were to disappear?”

Mio stared intently at Zenon’s calm profile. The vision still lingered behind her eyelids—the rock layer that covered the sky, her real parents buried in their home, and the invasion of Messus Island. The enemies who killed her kind parents and sister, her friends, and set the beautiful Messus Island ablaze—the detestable Urano Sky Clan. There was no room for debate.

“…Isn’t it obvious? They continue to sow the seeds of war across the world, killing innocent people and plotting to control the earth from the sky. Aren’t they the cause of this world’s chaos?”

“There are regions in this world that do not recognize Urano. Are you aware of the names of the nations that exist beyond the Holy Spring?”

“……………………”

Mio swallowed her words. The true nature of this world had yet to be revealed. Countless fleets had set sail to uncover the world's truths, only to either return in fear midway or vanish without a trace. She had only heard of the Holy Spring in legends; its existence had not been confirmed. Zenon's tone suggested he recognized both the legendary spring and the existence of unknown continents.

“You know of them? The names of nations no one has ever seen?”

Zenon turned to Mio, smiling even more kindly.

“There are indeed many nations. Balesteros. Saino. Benares. Levamme. Amatsukami. Solbarosa. Kai Andros. Kōrai. …and many others, all of which have cultures comparable to yours.”

These were names she had never encountered in any document, nor had she ever even heard of them. Yet Zenon's words seemed too articulate for lies, as if he had repeated the same questions and answers to various third parties before.

“…I’ve never heard of those names, even when I was in Harmonia.”

“That’s only natural. No one in Harmonia is aware of this fact.”

Mio stared intently at Zenon's smile. A bottomless fear suddenly surged from the pit of her stomach.

—This man is not Harmonian.

“…Who are you?”

“I’m just a humble assistant in the Harmonian Foreign Ministry. I’m simply more enthusiastic about gathering information than the average bureaucrat. I possess some knowledge that the general public does not.”

That’s a lie. Her intuition whispered so.

"Let’s return to the topic. Beyond the Sacred Spring, there are people who do not know Urano, and they are fighting among themselves. Just like in the archipelago, or even more so, horrific battles are taking place. Whether or not Urano exists, people cannot cease their conflicts. Wouldn't you agree?"

"........................"

"The cause of war is not Urano, but the mass production of destructive weapons and the resulting chronic resource shortages. If we dig deeper, it is the immature consciousness of humans trying to enrich themselves by plundering others that triggers wars."

Zenon continued in a tone reminiscent of reading a thesis.

"The Holy Saint Aldista granted the grace of the great waterfall so that foolish humans would not encounter one another until they reached the necessary level of consciousness. However, advancements in air machinery have finally made it possible to traverse the great waterfall, allowing immature humans to meet. When they first recognized one another, what they did was not embrace. Instead, they turned their guns at unknown peoples with different skin colours and languages to intimidate them. Urano was not present there. It was entirely the actions of the peoples of the land."

What Zenon said was indeed true. Approximately sixty years ago, when St Vault first encountered the Akitsu Federation across the great waterfall, the more powerful St Vault’s initial action was to conclude an unequal treaty aimed at plundering Akitsu’s resources. This has left a lingering resentment in the archipelago that continues to this day, causing the blood of millions of young people to flow needlessly.

Urano was not involved.

It was only in the last ten or so years that Urano emerged and connected with the Hydrabard Coalition, starting to move toward domination of the archipelago. The reasoning that the world would be at peace if Urano were to disappear is indeed a simplistic notion that is hard to refute.

"The teachings of Holy Saint Aldista, "Love thy neighbour," have been forgotten. Neighbours cannot cease hurting one another. Therefore, someone must bleed to stop it. To end the pointless wars in our generation and pass on a future of peace and friendship to the next, an absolute existence that preserves the teachings of Holy Saint Aldista in their purest form must govern the world."

"...Is that Urano?"

"Who else can do it? Do St Vault, the Akitsu Federation, or Harmonia have grand ideals comparable to Urano? What can the lower classes do but leap for the bait dangling before them? They merely disguise their base desires to trample and push others aside to feast solely on themselves behind the mask of diplomacy. That is the limit of the land peoples, separated by borders."

"........................"

"Is there a border in the sky?"

"…No."

"The surface has become too soaked in blood. The day when the grudges and hatred accumulated over a long history of struggle will clear will never come. It is best to govern from the sky. Only Urano, residing in the boundless sky, can unify this planet under the teachings of Holy Saint Aldista, transcending races, languages, and borders."

Zenon maintained a calm smile as he spoke this, and what he said was also logical.

But.

"You speak just like someone from Urano."

Mio pierced Zenon with her emerald-green eyes.

Zenon’s smile did not falter. Mio, refusing to lose, responded while maintaining her own smile.

"As you say, the people of the land will continue to fight, whether Urano exists or not. And Urano, by lending air power to multiple nations, spreads and exacerbates the calamities of war. You call it an ideal, but it seems even more malignant than that of the land’s people."

Without mixing any emotion into her words, she said this in one breath, and Zenon let out a slight growl deep in his throat, making his eyes sparkle even more gently.

"Quite perceptive. A typical teenage girl would not be able to give such a reasonable rebuttal."

"Debates among students are actively encouraged at the Air Hunt Academy."

"Assertive logic is important. Depending on the situation, it can influence the fate of nations… That aside, to sweep away the wars of the land from the sky, we must start by managing them. Everything has its stages. Urano will lend air power only to those nations deemed capable of contributing to the new order of the future. We will not ally with the blood-soaked old nations. That too is an ideal."

"From what you've said, it appears the people of the sky are not so different from the people of the land."

"Mr. Ethan has certainly raised a strong-willed young lady. Shall we get to the main topic?"

"Yes. I have been waiting for this."

"Do you believe that the current state of the world is correct?"

"No."

"Do you not wish to end the pointless wars as soon as possible?"

"I do."

"Then, we share the same sentiments, you and I, Mio. We can become allies."

"What do you mean by "we"? It doesn’t seem to refer to Harmonia."

"As I said, we are beings not bound by the borders of the land."

"…"

Mio glared at Zenon’s unchanging smile. Zenon casually revealed his true identity as if it were a morning greeting.

"Urano needs you, Mio Syira. To prevent more unfortunate children from being born due to the horrors of war. To bring peace to the land as soon as possible. I wish for you to join the bloodline of the sky people."

A surge of anger made Mio's hair stand on end.

"You want me to become a spy for Urano?"

"Absolutely not. Spy is a bad word. I only ask that you agree with our ideals: to fight for the idea of the people of the land uniting beyond language, nation, and ethnicity, even if it means sacrificing oneself."

"What Urano is doing is merely trampling on the land from above!"

"What’s the difference from how the people of the land trample on each other? Machine guns, trenches, and concrete fortifications have only multiplied the number of dead. Did you not learn this at the officer academy? If you cannot breach the enemy’s defences, war will drag on. When offensive power exceeds defensive power, war will conclude swiftly. Only Urano has the power to destroy all the defensive weapons and facilities on the ground. To end this war as soon as possible, destruction from the sky by Urano is desirable."

"I am a cadet of St Vault! Are you telling me to betray my homeland and align with Urano? I will never become an agent of the ones who killed my parents, slaughtered my friends' families, and took away my homeland!"

"I thought you were quite bright, but that seems to be a matter of age. You are bound by past resentments and refuse to progress. Unless you trample on others as you were trampled, your emotional calculations do not add up… Such thoughts are what are turning the land into hell."

Mio was at a loss for words.

Not because she had been persuaded, but because her thoughts had burned out from sheer anger. Zenon continued, without interjecting any emotion, as if reading from a prepared script.

"The most sacred teaching of Holy Saint Aldista is ‘forgiveness.’ If the people of the land could ‘forgive’ one another for past grievances and strive together towards a bountiful future, war would disappear from the land in that moment. You say that Urano spread calamities to the land, but did the people of the land not throw stones at Urano? It is the people of the land who have fearfully bombarded us, merely because we do not have roots in the earth. Shall I introduce you to tens of thousands of Urano people whose families, friends, and lovers were killed due to unjust discrimination? What they desire is not revenge on the land, but to ensure that such sadness never arises again, to shed their own blood and dedicate themselves to lasting peace. Can you not do the same?"

Words borne of uncontrolled anger escaped from Mio.

"No matter how you twist your words, I will never betray my homeland! My family is in St Vault. I have comrades I met in this country. It is unthinkable that I, raised in St Vault, would turn my gun against my homeland under Urano!"

"As long as you are bound by the old nations, war will never cease on the land."

"Can you love the world without loving your own country!?"

Mio shouted. Words she had never even considered were bursting forth from within her.

"Just as I love my homeland, as I love my family and friends, I love my country. To abandon my country for the world is the same as abandoning my home for the community; isn’t that thought and action unnatural?"

Powerful words flowed from her mouth, surprising even herself. It was a thought that had been sleeping deep within her heart, a feeling she rarely consciously acknowledged. A strange, intense light shone in Zenon’s eyes.

"You are contradicting yourself. The borders are what create war. Unless we eliminate borders, wars will continue to occur. You understand that the state of this world is wrong, yet you do not attempt to correct that wrong. You refuse to let go of what has been given to you while continuing to ask for what you do not have, like a spoiled child."

"What you are doing is nothing but destruction! I will never align with you. Unfortunately, I will likely never see you again."

Mio turned on her heel, trying to leave Zenon. As she walked away, Zenon spoke calmly to her back.

"Even if your adoptive parents are people of Urano?"

Mio’s steps halted.

Zenon continued.

"Not just your parents. What if your brother-in-law, sister-in-law, and all four of them are already acting according to Urano's ideals?"

The coldness of the atmosphere at the high ground increased.

Mio slowly turned to look back at Zenon. Her eyes were wide with shock and disbelief.

A hint of sadistic pleasure was woven into the depths of Zenon’s smile.

Mio's legs began to tremble. Finally, words spilled from her pale lips.

"You're lying."

"Unfortunately, it's the truth."

"On what basis do you make such a claim?"

"Basis... you say? To present that would be to confront you with a cruel reality. Are you sure you want that?"

Gathering her courage, Mio glared directly at Zenon.

"At this point, I want to hear it."

"Very well, then. Forgive my presumption. Three years ago, during the summer, the Syira family was present on Messus Island during the invasion of Odessa, correct?"

"Yes."

There was no way she could forget. That summer, when Kiyoaki's parents and sister were brutally murdered. The beautiful Messus Island was turned to ash in just one day due to Urano's attack. As she looked at the charred remains of Messus Island from the high ground, Mio had vowed to Kiyoaki to bring down Urano.

"Were there any casualties in the Syira family at that time?"

There was no need to remember. The casualties were complete. The civilian residential area where Kiyoaki lived had been thoroughly bombed, with even children shot at for amusement, yet for some reason, not a single bullet had struck the area where Mio lived.

After the bombing ended, Mio hurried to Kiyoaki's house. Kiyoaki, covered in blood and mud, had just finished burying his parents and sister, while Mio's clothes were completely clean, and she remembered feeling an overwhelming sense of guilt.

"Why do you think only the high ground escaped the bombing?"

Zenon asked, looking quite pleased.

It was said to be miraculous that they had avoided the air raid, Ethan had said.

But—was that really a miracle?

A bad feeling surged up from the depths of Mio's stomach.

—Don't listen to the answer.

Her intuition whispered such. Instinctively, Mio tried to cover her ears with her hands.

But Zenon's words came out faster.

"It was because of the Syira family. We couldn't afford to lose valuable informants to bombardment."

Mio heard a cracking sound in the surrounding atmosphere.

"The invasion of Messus Island was orchestrated by Mr. Ethan. He had complete knowledge of the construction status of Odessa, military rest days, and the movements of the fleet, which is why the flawless surprise attack succeeded. The fact that only the corner where you lived remained unscathed amidst such destruction could be seen as the strongest basis."

She struggled to hold up her shaking knees.

"You're lying."

That was all she could manage to say. Her lips trembled, making it impossible to form a coherent argument.

As Zenon said, the Urano surprise attack at that time was too perfect. Simultaneously with the start of the battle, all anti-aircraft facilities on the island were destroyed. The Akitsu Federation's Special Intelligence Department, which later conducted investigations, almost unanimously agreed that there had been informants on the island. And the Urano fighter squadron, which shot at fleeing children for fun, somehow did not touch the high-end residential area. Despite having enough power to destroy ordinary homes out of boredom, they left the mansions intact.

—Because there was prior notification to exclude them from the attack targets.

—Because the Syira family had value for Urano.

Mio shook her head vigorously to dispel those thoughts.

"That can't be true."

Zenon maintained the same smile he had when they first met, showing no wave of emotion.
[[File:MioDressedup.png|thumb]]

"It’s hard to accept, I understand that. I merely came to greet you today. We can discuss specifics another time."

"I won’t meet you. Not ever again."

"No, you will meet me. I’m confident that next time, you’ll give me a favourable response."

Zenon's demeanour was filled with an unwavering confidence, as if everything was going according to plan. Mio desperately wanted to escape this situation. She didn’t want to exchange another word with Zenon.

"Don't underestimate me. Who would cooperate with you?"

With a trembling voice, she spat out those words and began to walk away from the high ground. Once again, Zenon's words reached her back.

"Tonight, you should have a good talk with your father. Mr. Ethan is a remarkable man. He’s trying to save the world at the cost of his own life."

To avoid hearing any more of Zenon's words, Mio covered her ears with her hands and descended the long stairs alone. Zenon's breath felt like it was tainting her skin.

"Disgusting."

As she swayed in the carriage on the way back, she repeated that word over and over. The simple scenery of Crossnodal Island flowing outside the window did nothing to comfort her. She felt as if a heavy, sticky liquid had been poured into her lungs.

"How dare he mock me? Why, of all people, would I be an ally of Urano?"

Transforming her anxiety and fear into defiant words thrown out the window, Mio wanted nothing more than to reach home quickly. She wanted to tell Ethan about what had just happened and hear his usual calm voice denying it, saying, "It’s a mistake."

"There's a fact I haven't told you, Mio. Please calm down and listen rationally to what I'm about to say."

That night, alone in the living room with Mio, Ethan said this in a tone she had never heard before.

Despite sitting on the sofa, Mio's knees trembled. After hearing everything about her earlier encounter with Zenon, Ethan showed no signs of great surprise; instead, worry etched deep lines into his brow. He clasped his hands on his knees and let out a deep sigh before beginning to speak.

"My relationship with Zenon dates back to before I was dispatched as an ambassador to Harmonia. At that time, I was involved in importing foreign military supplies to St Vault. Zenon was a prominent figure in arms trading related to Harmonia. I have benefited from his convenience more than once or twice. Several years ago, when a minor conflict broke out between the two countries, stocks of St Vault-based weapon manufacturing companies were about to be seized by the Harmonia government. Had that happened, I would have been ruined, but Zenon transferred all the shares of that company to Urano-affiliated enterprises, helping me out. Thanks to him, tens of thousands of St Vault citizens were saved from unemployment. They are still earning wages manufacturing artillery for St Vault from Urano-affiliated companies. Without my connection to Zenon, I wouldn't be who I am now."

"...But it's Urano, right? They're St Vault's enemy, aren't they?"

"The label of 'enemy' for Urano is easy to understand, but it's also simplistic. The world of arms dealers is complex. The hidden relationships below the surface are often more significant and harder to discern than the visible ones. Which officials are connected to which businesses, siphoning off profits. Which financial conglomerates transport military supplies from Country A to both Country B and C. Which ambassador is trying to establish military trade with which country through which business office. The world is driven by invisible connections that can’t be neatly divided into friend or foe; depending on the time and situation, they can align with either side. Zenon and I have navigated and utilized such hidden connections, creating a small society with trusted influential figures. Before I knew it, I had also become entangled in the world of vested interests, where demons roam. It’s too late to extricate myself now."

"……"

"Nowadays, I have more transactions I can't report back to my home country than those I can. Just one finger of my society, 'Chrono Magos,' could cause hundreds of thousands of people to lose their jobs or gain new employment. Members of 'Chrono Magos' include elites from nations like Mitterland, Vestelant, Hydrabard, the Akitsu Federation, and Urano… and this society is thriving through arms trade."

Mio’s face paled, her words trembling.

"That means… Dad is involved in the war!"

Ethan pressed his forehead with one hand, shaking his head in pain.

"No, Mio, listen to me. What your father and Zenon are trying to do is the complete opposite. It is precisely because we are in our positions that we can end this foolish war."

Lifting his weary gaze, Ethan looked at Mio.

"We need to discuss matters intended for adults. But first, I want you to trust me, Mio."

"……"

"I apologize for having hidden the truth from you. However, there are times when the timing to reveal things is crucial. You’re already an adult. I believe you will make wise judgments… Or do you no longer believe what your father says?"

"…No… I still believe you… Dad."

"Thank you, Mio. I love you."

"…Yeah. I know."

Ethan affectionately stroked Mio's head before taking her hand in both of his.

"…As Mio knows, I am a diplomat serving the interests of the Kingdom of St Vault. There is no doubt about that. But at the same time… I am fulfilling a larger mission. A great task to eliminate war from this world."

Mio's heartbeat began to mark an ominous rhythm.

"To accomplish this task, I can only use the power of Chrono Magos. It may sound like a dream, but if all the members are truly committed, it is possible. However, for that, it is necessary to shed blood myself."

Feeling Ethan's warmth from the palm of his hand, Mio quietly listened to her father's words.

"It is impossible to bring about change without experiencing pain. And it is also impossible to change the world through the love of a saint. Love alone cannot save this corrupt world."

She was afraid to hear more. Yet, Mio could only trust Ethan.

"To completely eliminate war, we must rule from the sky to the ground. That is the conclusion of Chrono Magos. In that process, the destruction of the old order is unavoidable."

Confirming that her father echoed the same ideology as Zenon, tears welled in Mio's eyes. A sludge-like feeling gathered in her stomach.

"Do you think it's a foolish dream?"

Mio could only silently shake her head.

If she let her guard down, her vision seemed like it would go dark at that moment.

She wished she could abandon her thoughts entirely. Deep down, she truly felt that way.

"It is possible. My society has that power."

"Papa."

"Yes?"

Her mouth was parched. Mio took a breath and asked her question.

"Is this for St Vault?"

Ethan stared at Mio for a while, then, after a moment of contemplation, he answered.

"Not just for St Vault. It is for something much larger."

Mio held her breath and cautiously pressed on with her questions.

"Are you betraying St Vault?"

Ethan immediately shook his head.

"No. It is not betrayal. However, I can no longer devote myself peacefully to my original duties. While interacting with Mr. Zenon and other society members, I realized that, given my current position, I could contribute to a larger and better future."

"…Are you in contact with Urano?"

She pressed on with her questions. Ethan sighed deeply and spoke as if explaining to a child.

"As I said earlier, the concept of Urano is too vast. The royal capital Pleiades is filled with royalty, powerful nobility, military factions, and conglomerates, and is not a monolith. Mr. Zenon is a respectable person working to change the old Urano court. I share ideals with Mr. Zenon, but I am not in contact with Urano."

"Papa. Answer honestly."

Ethan tilted his head slightly.

"I intend to do so."

"I understand. But I've reached an age where I can tell lies and deceptions by your gestures and choice of words. So please, for the next question, don’t lie."

Ethan looked at Mio with curiosity and then smiled reassuringly.

"…Understood. I will answer sincerely."

It was a smile from the person who had given her this life. If she doubted it, she felt like she would deny her very existence here and now.

──No matter what happens, I believe in Papa.

After confirming this deep within herself, Mio summoned her courage to voice something that had been lodged in her throat.

"Were all of my siblings taken in to be spies?"

Ethan stared at Mio for a while. She could hear the ticking of the second hand. The deep light in his eyes was serene.

"No, that is not the case."

"…………"

"If my goal was to turn them into spies, I could have sent them to a training facility the moment I picked them up. There was no need to raise them in my home as my children."

There was no lie in the resonance of his voice.

She didn't want to doubt her father’s words.

Believing his answer, Mio asked one more question.

"Did you assist in the invasion of Messus Island by Urano?"

Ethan remained silent, gazing at Mio.

Then he poured whiskey into a glass and swallowed it without diluting it with ice.

All sound had vanished between them.

Silence transformed into fear.

"Are you, the insider?"

Mio's trembling voice asked the question.

Ethan put the glass back on the table and bit his lip. Then he directed his usual deep gaze towards Mio.

— Deny it.

He prayed.

"That's right."

There was no falsehood in the echo of that voice.

In that fleeting moment, Mio rose from the sofa.

And then, she ran away from the living room.

"Mio!"

Ethan shouted from behind.

"Don't come near me!!"

Mio screamed.

Tears began to flow.

She dashed toward the entrance, stepping outside without putting on her shoes.

"Wait, listen to me!"

Ethan was chasing after her.

Looking up at the starry sky, Mio screamed.

"Murderer!!"

From behind, Ethan's heavy footsteps were heard as he burst through the entrance.

Mio tried to escape with all her strength. But at that moment, a spasm gripped her stomach.

Mio curled up on the spot, knelt down, and vomited onto the ground.

Since she hadn’t eaten anything since meeting Zenon, all that came out was stomach acid.

It was painful, and tears streamed down her face. She couldn’t move. Holding her stomach with both hands, Mio continued to expel what was rising within her.

Soon her stomach was completely empty. Even though it was just air left, she expelled that air as well. It was the most painful way to vomit.

"Mio. Mio…"

Ethan caught up and rubbed her back.

Mio squeezed out a hoarse voice.

"Don't touch... me!!"

She pushed Ethan’s hands away with both hands.

"Murderer…!!"

"No, no, Mio, there’s a legitimate reason for that…"

Her knees buckled, and she couldn't stand. While on her knees, Mio tried to escape. Hearing the commotion, her family rushed out from inside the house.

Towards her younger brother Dominic, Kazuki, and her sister Bonita, Mio shouted.

"Don't come here! This place, this house…!"

With her burnt-out thoughts, Mio looked up at the starry sky.

— This house…?

The following words wouldn’t come.

"Mio, what’s wrong!?" "Mio, are you sick!?"

Dominic and Kazuki hugged her. The small hands that clung to her barely kept Mio's sanity intact.

Instinctively, Mio tightly pulled her two younger brothers close.

"We have to escape from here! We all need to get out…!"

Mio's cry faded into the night sky. Not understanding the significance of what was happening, her younger siblings exchanged frightened glances and clung to Mio.

"Calm down, this is our home, Mio…"

"Mio, look, Mom and Dad are here too. This is our home, our home…"

The voices of Dominic and Kazuki echoed in the stillness of Mio's mind.

— My home.

— My family.

Tears overflowed. They wouldn’t stop.

"Mio, listen, it’s all for the sake of the world. You mustn’t view what adults are trying to do with a shortsighted perspective."

Ethan's voice was close. But she didn’t want to think anymore.

"Don't come near me, don’t touch me…!"

With a hoarse voice, Mio continued to try to escape her father's hands. But her family clung to her, pleading for her to calm down.

Neither of them knew which one was sane, nor which was abnormal. All that remained was the desperate wish to save her younger siblings from this house.

Relaxing in the melodies of strings flowing from the sound system, Zenon Kavaris, Deputy Minister of the Urano Foreign Affairs Ministry, gazed out of the window in his office.

The grand and majestic symphony performed by the Pleiades Symphony Orchestra resonated down the corridor of the Harmonia Embassy's third floor. The embassy staff didn’t complain, allowing Zenon’s enjoyment of the late hour to go undisturbed. Everyone was well aware that Zenon was not Harmonian, but no one felt the need to stir up such matters now.

Zenon leaned closer to the pitch-black window. In the distance, the gas lamps of the residential area flickered faintly. Within that light, the Syira family resided.

— They must be in quite an uproar by now.

Zenon looked at his own reflection in the glass. Each time he thought of that family, expressions of pity and disdain arose.

— The Syira family.

Ethan Syira had travelled the world, gathering talented children to form this makeshift family.

The eight adopted children had not originally been gathered to become agents. Ethan simply collected information on promising orphans to compensate for his own inability to have children and raised the ones he liked as his own. It was born from pure goodwill, with no intention of turning them into spies.

It was Zenon who changed him.

Meeting him over a decade ago, Zenon recognized Ethan’s social status, connections, and character as top-notch. Using his authority as Deputy Minister, he had consistently arranged for political favours for Ethan without any cost. In that process, he had even harmed Urano’s national interests for the benefit of St Vault. Ethan eventually came to place complete trust in Zenon, considering both national interests and his relationship with Zenon. By cooperating, they unveiled connections like hidden plants in the weapons trade, eventually gaining influence over its seedlings.

Before long, Ethan and Zenon had formed a cross-border society, mastering information and interests regarding arms trading worldwide. While no one remembered who had named it, the arms dealer society became known as "Chrono Magos," eventually becoming a venue for the collusion of the powerful, influencing high-level appointments in various nations.

In that process, Ethan realized he had to consider not only the national interests of St Vault but also the benefits of Chrono Magos, leaving him bewildered. His fundamentally honest nature could hardly tolerate betraying his homeland. Zenon stood by him, using various means to reframe Ethan’s guilt as “for world peace.” By repeatedly doing this, the phrase "actions to eliminate war from the world" became ingrained in Ethan’s mind, leaving him unable to discern good from evil, ultimately becoming Zenon’s pawn.

Now, Ethan moved entirely at Zenon’s will.

Sending talented adopted children to powerful institutions in various nations to deliver information was also Zenon’s arrangement. Ethan could not oppose it. If he defied Zenon’s wishes, the treason he had committed against the state would be exposed, and the Syira family would crumble. Realizing he could never return to a life of innocence, Ethan could only apologize to the children while placing burdensome tasks upon them.

If even one of the children defied him, the entire family would collapse. That was Zenon's threat. The honest children raised with Ethan's love had no choice but to sacrifice themselves to protect their beloved adoptive parents and siblings. They were a family that Zenon found incredibly useful.

And soon, yet another new offering would belong to Zenon.

— Mio Syira.

Among the siblings, she was the one with the most potential for the future.

Not only could she use her wit adeptly.

She was intelligent, lovely, and strong-willed.

In four or five years, she would likely grow into an excellent female agent capable of captivating men. For a female spy, "beauty" was an absolute weapon that male spies could never acquire, no matter how much training they underwent. Some female spies have achieved results in battles equivalent to an entire division by leveraging their beauty to infiltrate targets. With her intelligence, Mio, who also possessed strength of character, was someone Zenon wished to keep close.

— Such raw material. If brainwashed and re-educated properly, she could become a capable slave.

— My exclusive slave.

For Zenon, it was a game. Rather than merely using her like the other siblings for information gathering, he wanted to cultivate her as an actual agent under his own guidance.

Having grown up comfortably in a wealthy family until her late teens was a completely different type compared to those trained from childhood in spy academies, producing an agent with both grace and beauty. It would be incredibly enjoyable to strip Mio of her critical thinking and dye her in new ideas, making her both physically and mentally serve Urano. The memories of that foreign female diplomat he met last year—beautiful, intelligent, and having cleverly outmanoeuvred Zenon in a short negotiation—came to mind. He wanted to cultivate Mio like her and use her with his own hands. Even in the midst of the grim secret missions, such playfulness could be allowed.

Zenon began to devise plans for the future. To strip one person of their fixed ideas and inject new values would require a series of stages.

— For starters, intimidation would be the quickest method.

He decided to contact Ethan in the morning to designate a meeting place for another encounter with Mio.

— Mio will definitely come.

— To hear from me about her father's true identity.

If that happened, she would be ours. Putting on a facade of a good person, he would boldly utter beautiful words and then proceed to threaten using Mio's family.

— Convince her that the lives of her young brother and sister are at stake, and she won’t be able to resist.

— To protect her siblings, she would offer herself.

— That’s where it begins.

Zenon quickly envisioned several negotiation patterns, ready to deflect any logical counterattacks Mio might throw his way, gently preparing to draw her into his web of thoughts. Having dealt with countless cunning spirits and negotiations, convincing a teenage girl, no matter how clever, was merely a playful distraction amidst his duties.

Of course, one couldn't expect to completely sway the other party in a single encounter. However, securing a subsequent meeting and repeatedly applying pressure through intimidation and persuasion would eventually destabilize the opponent's footing, allowing his ideology to seep in. With enough time and effort, she'd ultimately become a puppet dancing in his hands.

──Speaking of which, there was a Hachidori at the Air Hunt Officer Academy.

One of the S-class special agents Zenon had personally trained—Hachidori.

The son of a minister who was executed after losing a power struggle in the Urano court.

Coincidentally, he was also one of the "Seven of Eriadore," just like Mio. If he taught Mio the code words used among agents, the exceptional Hachidori would surely notice any oddities and make contact. The brevity of his training period could be compensated for by assigning Hachidori as his mentor on the ground.

Zenon amused himself by mentally rehearsing the process of turning Mio into his piece. The face of that foreign female diplomat floated in his mind, overlapping with Mio's.

The sensation of that slender back he had held during their playful dance still lingered. The words whispered in his ear were both shrewd and strategic. He remembered instinctively wishing to make that woman his someday. Whether that dream would come true was uncertain, but for now, he decided to enjoy himself with Mio as a substitute...

Toaru Hikuushi e no Seiyaku:V3Part6

2025-12-01T02:45:05Z

QCore:

Part 23 (Part 6 of Volume 3)

Air Hunt Island was completely covered by a swarm of Idra.

Like a mantis, the sinister limbs formed a battle formation, rampaging through the skies over the island as if it were their own territory, obscuring the remnants of the morning glow.

From several spots on the surface, flames began to rise. The fire, scorching the edges of the dawn, gradually expanded its area, intertwining with one another, eventually becoming a raging inferno on the ground.

The Urano Air Force, which suddenly attacked Air Hunt Island, consisted of a massive formation of two hundred sixty aircraft. Fighters, bombers, attack aircraft, and over thirty large bombers that had taken off from an airfield formed one squadron, with eight squadrons attacking the newly formed fleet and defensive facilities on the island—such as the airfield and anti-aircraft gun positions—according to their operational plans. Thanks to information provided by the infiltrator Hachidori, the positions of the island's defences were completely known to Urano, allowing the attackers to meticulously arrange their operations before reaching the combat area.

The third squadron responsible for attacking the new fleet included torpedo bombers capable of submerged navigation in shallow waters and large bombers equipped with timed explosives for the airfield assault. Another squadron, tasked with destroying bridges, communication lines, radar, and other facilities, comprised precision bombing dive bombers. Following an orderly process like an assembly line, the Urano Air Force methodically incapacitated Air Hunt Island.

On the other hand, the defensive force, the St Vault Army, was unable to recover from the chaos and was subjected to one-sided attacks for an hour after the combat began.

While one might expect such a situation at the front lines of islands like Crossnodal or Mauregan, no one ever dreamed that two flying fortresses would approach the relay base of Air Hunt Island. Even if the enemy air force were to mount a sudden attack, it was believed that inflicting damage on the newly stationed fleet in Sanjiru Bay, with its shallow waters, would be impossible.

Not just the depth of the water. The newly stationed air battleships and air carriers were protected by underwater defence nets. Even if the enemy used new torpedoes, they were supposed to get tangled in the specially laid underwater nets and couldn't possibly hit the hull—so it was thought.

However, the oxygen torpedoes launched by the Urano attack squadron pierced through without encountering any obstacles, embedding themselves into the sides of the new air battleships. The two super-dreadnought battleships, symbols of hope for the citizens of the St Vault Empire and considered trump cards in the Hydrabard campaign, were unexpectedly struck by over twenty oxygen torpedoes each, turning them into mere debris without ever participating in a naval battle.

The defence nets had been pre-emptively compromised by something that had submerged underwater. The nets that were supposed to envelop the torpedoes had been torn apart, resulting in a one-sided torpedo assault. By the time the commander of the Air Hunt Island garrison considered the existence of infiltrators, not a single warship remained afloat in Sanjiru Bay.

It wasn't just the naval base. The airfield and anti-aircraft gun positions were also unilaterally destroyed. The eight squadrons of Urano unleashed all their bombs and torpedoes onto Air Hunt Island without facing any counterattacks, returning leisurely to their flying fortresses to prepare for a second assault.

The next attack targets were public facilities such as fuel depots, military supply depots, waterworks, and residential areas. If these were destroyed, Air Hunt Island would be left virtually defenceless. If an invasion occurred, the entire population would likely be slaughtered without any means of resistance.

To retaliate, the air force had to be able to launch fighter planes from the airfield. The St Vault Army’s engineering team worked desperately to repair the runways, which had been set ablaze and torn apart by the initial bombing, using bulldozers to fill the gaps as the Urano Air Force prepared for their second attack.

The day before had been a typhoon, so the military had been on leave; however, upon receiving a sudden attack, soldiers returned one by one to their posts. Yet, due to the destruction of roads and bridges, many soldiers were unable to return. The commander of the airfield’s air unit hurriedly assigned aircraft to the returning pilots, launching them in order as they became ready. However, the number of available planes was insufficient. Hoping that as many pilots as possible would arrive at the airfield as soon as possible, the commander anxiously gazed at the sky. Soon, the Urano second attack squadron would arrive, targeting civilian facilities. If they couldn't retaliate here, many civilians would become casualties. They had to somehow strike back and prevent further damage...

As the commander prayed like this, two officer candidates arrived on motorcycles. They were the pilots from the "Seven of Eriadore," well-known to the commander. They had overcome hardships to come and fight, even as students.

The commander hesitated. They were still students. He couldn't believe they could be of any use in actual combat.

However, these two were descendants of the two legendary "Kings of the Skies." If they worked together, perhaps they could down at least one enemy aircraft. If that happened, there would at least be a record of them having "bravely attempted a counterattack." It wouldn't be a mere observation; they too fought with all their might. That would be an excuse to present to the media and the public. Even if both of them died, they could be honoured as heroes who fought bravely, stirring the public's anger and desire for revenge. Even a death in a reckless battle could serve the nation if framed correctly.

"I understand your feelings well. I hereby assign you a mission to head directly to the airfield. Go."

After this thought process, the air unit commander gave the two officer candidates permission to board the fighter planes with a stern expression.

"Yes…!" "Thank you very much!"

The two of them brightened up with enthusiasm, sprinting towards their assigned fighters with all their might.

Ideally, they would shoot down some enemies.

But if they died, they would be honoured as heroes.

Watching their backs, the commander whispered in his heart.

"It was surprisingly easy to get permission…!"

As they ran towards the line beside the runway, Kiyoaki called out to Illia, who was beside him.

"Yeah. They probably don't have enough pilots. The roads and bridges have been destroyed, and the soldiers on leave can't return."

Illia replied, looking straight ahead while confirming the mechanics pulling the fighter planes out from underground shelters. All the aircraft parked in the surface hangars had been destroyed in the initial attack, but the planes stored underground had survived. Kiyoaki and Illia were entrusted with these precious surviving fighters.

The maintenance chief, having received a call from the command centre, brought out the polished Beowulf fighter right before them.

"Get out immediately! If they return, you won’t be able to take off!"

Kiyoaki expressed his gratitude to the frantic maintenance chief and jumped onto the wing. In the St Vault Air Force, take-offs under aerial attack are strictly forbidden. During take-off, aircraft are slow, unable to evade bullets or shells, and are left exposed with their upper surfaces vulnerable. They wanted to get as many fighters airborne as possible before the take-off ban. The anxiety in the faces of the maintenance chief and all the mechanics, smeared with oil, conveyed that prayer. They, too, had families on this island and could not bear to witness further destruction.

"Yes. I will do my utmost. I will fly at the risk of my life."

Having made that promise, Kiyoaki exchanged glances with Illia.

Illia tightened her expression and nodded.

"Let’s go. It’s time to demonstrate the skills we’ve honed until today."

At that moment, Illia appeared to waver slightly, as if obscured. A sense of foreboding stirred deep within his chest.

"Yeah. But Illia, don’t be reckless."

"You be careful too."

"…Yeah. Let’s come back alive."

Kiyoaki smiled. He felt anxious if he didn’t. Illia slightly relaxed her cheeks, showing a calm expression she had recently begun to wear occasionally.

"When it's over, let’s meet on the ground again."

"…Yeah. We’ll meet again on the ground, Illia."

Since they would return and meet on the ground, there was no need for overly grand farewells. Shaking off the bad premonitions, he jumped onto the wing and climbed into the cockpit. He confirmed Illia boarding the aircraft behind him. After receiving the frequency from the maintenance chief, he checked the communication with Illia.

"Illia, can you hear me?"

As he called into the microphone, a voice responded from the speaker on the instrument panel.

"I hear you. Sensitivity is good."

"Okay. After take-off, we will immediately take cover at four thousand five hundred meters above the airfield."

"Understood. Four thousand five hundred."

After a brief discussion, Kiyoaki connected the aircraft's control surfaces directly to the engine axis and began to spin the propeller.

The sturdy beating of the Beowulf reverberated through his body. It was on another level compared to the training aircraft, Gray Fox. Although he felt anxious about heading into battle with a plane he hadn’t fully mastered, there was no time for luxury.

──I fight for Air Hunt Island.

──Even if it costs me my life.

With that vow deeply etched in his heart, he received the signal from the ground crew and began his take-off run.

This was a real fighter plane. The acceleration was different. He quickly reached take-off speed, pulling back on the control stick.

The propeller roared violently, sending a fierce wind over the runway.

Kiyoaki could not suppress the tremors of a warrior. This strength was a world apart from that of a training aircraft. He was now about to engage in a real aerial battle in a genuine fighter plane.

──Don’t get carried away. Your life is at stake. The fate of this island is at stake too.

──Fight, shoot down the enemy, and return alive.

──That is the mission of one entrusted with a fighter plane.

As Kiyoaki reminded himself, he fixed his gaze on the distant enemy airships floating aloof in the sky.

──I will shoot down those enemies.

In a moment, like hornets emerging from their nest, a tremendous number of bright spots were unleashed from the upper surfaces of the flying fortress.

To deliver a finishing blow to Air Hunt Island, the second attack squadron was aiming its devilish beak directly at them. Leading the charge was a group of three Type 3 Idra fighters.

Dozens of friendly Beowulf fighters, which had taken off before Kiyoaki, were circling at an altitude of five thousand meters above the airfield to defend it, but they were clearly outmatched.

The enemy was nearly ten times greater. The fleet in Sanjiru Bay had been completely wiped out, and the anti-aircraft positions had been neutralized. The defeat in the air was all but assured even before the battle began.

But he would do his best. And return alive. For that, he must cast aside personal pride.

Noticing Illia rising from below and beginning to circle at the same altitude as Kiyoaki, he picked up the radio microphone.

“Illia, let’s team up. You lead, and I’ll follow.”

A response came immediately from the speaker.

“If that’s what you want, I welcome it.”

“Yeah. I think you’re better suited to take down the enemy.”

“You’re being quite straightforward.”

“I want to live and go back. My pride doesn’t matter.”

“...Understood. Then let’s do it that way.”

With Illia’s agreement, Kiyoaki positioned himself at her right diagonal rear. While Illia aimed at enemy aircraft, it would be Kiyoaki’s role to protect her from other enemy planes. It was a modest task, but by doing this, they could more easily achieve results.

“...This is my first real battle with a fighter plane. Don’t take unnecessary risks. If you feel danger, choose to descend immediately.”

Illia, unusually, threw out such advice. Kiyoaki replied in kind.

“You too, Illia. Let’s protect our lives over pride. The opponent is a professional, and we are students.”

Though it echoed Cecil's earlier words, Kiyoaki felt an unsettling premonition. He couldn’t predict how Illia, with her strong sense of justice, would react when fighting in a real battlefield.

“...I know. Let’s both be careful not to get too heated.”

Once again, Illia accepted Kiyoaki's advice unusually well.

She was surely anxious as well. Last summer, she had experienced actual combat aboard the Eriadore airship, but this time it was a genuine dogfight between fighter planes. The ammunition loaded into the machine guns wasn’t non-lethal special rounds but real armour-piercing, incendiary, tracer, and explosive rounds—bullets designed to destroy both aircraft and human bodies. It was terrifying, but if she hesitated when pulling the trigger, it would mean her own death. Kiyoaki firmly reminded himself of this as he glared at the horizon beyond the windscreen.

The Urano forces charged towards them, seemingly ecstatic. They were evidently thrilled that the St Vault fighters had finally taken off. The pilots’ exhilaration was palpable from the silhouette of their aircraft, typical of the Urano.

“Stay calm. Take them out one by one.”

“Yeah. Keep an eye on our surroundings. If it looks dangerous, we’ll escape.”

Exchanging their plans over the speaker, Kiyoaki and Illia waited tensely for the enemy’s approach.

The key was to protect the airspace above the airfield.

As long as they controlled this airspace, their allies’ aircraft could take off. If they regained air superiority, the enemy would likely give up on further destruction.

The distance to the enemy fighter group closed to under six thousand meters. The three Type 3 Idra’s wings loomed closer and closer. Having gained altitude first, they would be able to attack from a higher position than the enemy.

Sweat began to gather on Kiyoaki’s palms gripping the control stick. Honestly, it would be a lie to say he wasn’t scared. Yet, swallowing his anxiety and fear, he thought of the people he had to protect.

The enemy formation reached the combat airspace. The cockpit reflected sunlight, revealing the shape of the upper surface of the aircraft.

A clear and resolute voice from Illia echoed into the cockpit.

“Let’s go!”

With her command, Illia dove towards the enemy aircraft like a hawk.

“Yeah, let’s go!”

Kiyoaki guarded her rear.

──Live and return.

──With Illia.

Kiyoaki and Illia united their hearts and began their descent towards the group of Idra.

“Cecil, stay here.”

On the way to the police station, Reiner stopped the bike and said this while looking back at the passenger seat.

Still straddling the seat, Cecil looked at Reiner with a puzzled expression. They were in a desolate suburb, about two kilometres from the city centre. A distant fire could be seen, but since they were in an empty area, it seemed unlikely that there would be any bombardment.

“What?”

“It’s a shelter. You just need to stay here.”

Reiner gestured toward the side of the road with his chin, indicating the entrance of an underground bunker, partially overgrown with grass. It was an emergency shelter for local residents.

“But I’m going to pick up Mio.”

“I’ll bring her back. If you’re with me, I won’t be able to take Mio home. Just stay here for a while.”

“Eh... But…”

Cecil puffed up her cheeks in dissatisfaction, but Reiner wouldn’t budge.

“I can’t carry three people. You understand, right? I’ll be back with Mio soon. The air raid is starting any minute, so just stay put.”

“But at least to the police station…”

“You won’t be able to do anything even if you go. It’ll just complicate the return trip. Just stay here.”

After some back-and-forth, Cecil reluctantly got off the bike and followed Reiner’s instructions.

“Come back soon, okay? I’m worried about Mio.”

“I know. So stay put until the air raid is over.”

Waving dismissively, Reiner left Cecil behind and revved up the bike towards the police station.

Above them, the Idra fighters of the air superiority squad were engaged in combat with the Beowulf interceptors. The Urano second attack unit would be arriving shortly after the air superiority squad. The attack on public facilities would begin soon.

“Now, what to do? Reiner asked Hachidori.”

While driving, Reiner consulted his inner self.

──Change.

A response came immediately.

“Got it.”

Reiner Beck closed his eyes as he sped down the road.

Opening his eyes, Hachidori spat out.

“Foolish man.”

Gripping the throttle, the engine roared to life, and Hachidori sped down the public road at nearly four times the legal speed.

“It’s absurd to turn an amateur into an operative.”

This was a grievance directed at Chief Zenon. However, if he didn’t resolve this troublesome situation, his own life would be in danger. If Mio was captured, she wouldn’t withstand interrogation at all. After an hour of torture, she would undoubtedly spill the beans about Reiner Beck’s true identity.

“Having to clean up after the Chief’s little games...!”

Muttering curses, Hachidori quickly arrived in front of the military police station.

It wasn’t a particularly grand facility. It stood as a modest two-story mixed-use building. Hachidori parked the bike haphazardly in front of the police station and boldly entered through the front.

The military police had rushed out to handle the air raid, leaving the station quiet. Ignoring the reception, Hachidori headed for the stairs.

“Hey, who are you...?”

One of the military police, noticing the uninvited visitor, approached.

Hachidori grabbed the soldier’s shoulder, pushed him down, and delivered a palm strike to his chin, breaking his neck.
[[File:Hachidori.png|thumb]]
Drawing the soldier's pistol from his fallen body, Hachidori descended the stairs.

The sound of a thunderous explosion resonated from outside. It seemed the bombing of the city had begun. This chaos was fortunate; the sounds of explosions outside would help cover up some noise.

Hachidori walked down the hallway as if he were familiar with the garden. He had already researched the layout of the station in case other operatives were captured. Just then, new military police appeared from below.

"Hey, you can’t go past here...!?"

Before the words could finish, Hachidori aimed at the officer’s forehead and pulled the trigger.

The gunshot echoed in the hallway. Without hesitation, Hachidori stepped over the military police officer's corpse and descended to the second underground level. Ahead in the narrow corridor, three surprised police officers were standing, their expressions one of shock.

"Wha- an enemy...!?"

"It’s Urano, they've come to retrieve their comrade!!"

The police officers were the same ones who had captured Mio at the observation tower. They quickly drew their pistols, aiming at Hachidori.

Hachidori’s expression didn’t change. He maintained a calm gaze on the police officers, moving silently down the corridor and closing the distance to his targets.

"No matter how hard you try, I don’t think it will do any good."

The captain of the military police looked down at Mio, who was bound to a chair.

"Your identity is already exposed. Our country’s special forces aren’t fools. Did you not realize that your family has been kept under surveillance?"

In the small interrogation room, it was just the captain and Mio. Her arms were restrained behind her back, shackled to the pipe chair. The captain, in his late forties, leaned in closer to Mio with an amused expression.

Mio kept her head down, not looking up.

"This island has fallen into chaos. It’s all thanks to you. Outside, because of you, many soldiers have died."

The captain reached toward Mio’s chin, lifting her face as if raising a wine glass.

"You’re quite a girl. You’ve betrayed your dear friends and leaked information about this island to Urano. Now, you’re leading many people to their deaths. I’m impressed that you can remain so calm with such a cute face."

Mio’s eyes were lifeless. The captain’s thumb traced her lips, but there was no sign of her expression changing. Even when faced with degrading words, she neither showed anger nor resistance—she was like a doll.

The captain plunged his fingers into Mio’s hair, roughly grabbing it and forcing her to look up.

He brought his face close, almost touching her lips, and threatened her.

"Are you trying to play indifferent? There are countless ways to make you speak. If you continue to be so uncooperative, it won’t end well for you."

The captain’s face clearly showed a hint of sadism, but Mio remained unmoving in response. Stripped of her vitality, she was now presented before a beast.

The captain took a deep breath through his nose and suddenly tore at Mio’s clothing.

"……!?"

Finally, a slight tremor returned to Mio’s eyes.

Without a word, the captain revealed more of Mio’s skin with his coarse hands.

"Stop...!!"

Instinctively, Mio tried to escape from his grasp. However, her arms were restrained behind her back, shackled to the chair, leaving her unable to flee.

The foul breath was blown close to her face. Those filthy hands began to impose humiliation upon her.

Mio screamed. Struggling and cursing, she begged him to stop, finally calling out the name of her beloved in a tearful voice.

"Kiyoaki…!!"

The moment she spoke that name, the captain was violently thrown sideways, crashing against the wall and collapsing helplessly. Crimson liquid dripped from his mouth, spreading out beneath him.

"……!?"

Unbeknownst to them, a boy had entered the room and was looking at the captain’s lifeless body with disinterest.

Hachidori carelessly pulled the keys from the captain's pocket and inserted one into the handcuff’s lock, freeing Mio.

"You were lucky it didn’t end worse, you fool."

The cold words were directed not at the captain, but at Mio.

Mio tumbled off the chair, bracing herself with one hand on the floor as she adjusted her dishevelled clothing.

"Ugh… ugh…"

A sob escaped her lips. She wiped her tears with her fingers, glared at the captain's corpse, then put her hand to her mouth to suppress her nausea.

Hachidori grabbed her collar roughly, forcing her to stand.

"We're leaving. Your place is no longer in this country. We’re escaping this island."

He began to drag her out of the interrogation room. Mio managed to brace her legs, looking up at Hachidori.

"What about Dad and Mum… my siblings? What happened to them?"

"How would I know? Go check for yourself. If you believe their words, they’re probably captured."

"That can’t be… this is…"

"Such things happen. Consider the trouble you’ve caused me. Come on, walk quickly before the military police return. If you get caught again, it will be even worse."

Threatened, Mio hurriedly followed Hachidori out into the corridor. Her mind was frozen, but she could no longer tolerate the treatment she had just received. For now, it seemed best to obey Hachidori. He was a terrible person, but at least he wouldn’t do what the captain had just done.

The corridor was in a horrifying state.

"Hah…"

Three police officers lay piled on top of each other. Hachidori must have done this during his infiltration. One body lay on the stairs, and another was sprawled at the entrance of the police station.

"Did you… do this?"

"Thanks to you, I have extra work to do. Just disappear. Get off this island."

Hachidori spat this out as he stepped outside, tossing a helmet at Mio and gesturing for her to sit on the back of the bike.

"Where… are we going?"

Following his instructions, Mio sat down behind Hachidori and gripped the tandem handlebars.

Hachidori started the bike without answering. It smoothly accelerated, weaving through the damaged road from the bombings.

In the sky, a battle was unfolding. The Idra and Beowulf were engaged in fierce combat, the propellers roaring. Occasionally, aircraft would fall with long black trails behind them, and distant explosions echoed. Hachidori cut through the road, undeterred by the thick clouds of smoke and dust rising from the burning ground.

"Is everyone safe? What about Kiyoaki? Illia and Cecil?"

"Be quiet. You have no right to worry about them. Right now, we need to head to the extraction point as fast as possible."

"…Huh?"

"You are escaping this island. Go to Pleiades. Your new role awaits you there."

"…Huh?"

Mio couldn’t comprehend what Hachidori was saying.

—The floating city of Pleiades.

It was the name of the capital of Urano. According to the mythology of Urano, it was said to be a giant city in the sky that would someday rule this world.

"Am I going to Pleiades?"

"That's right. There’s no choice."

With an unyielding tone, Hachidori declared this and opened the throttle.

Cutting through the thick, blue-gray haze, Hachidori raced toward the communication point with the Urano invasion force. In preparation for emergencies, he had previously marked points on the map where they could contact the invading troops. If they could get there, Mio would be handed over to the main force of Urano.

── Those who know my true identity will no longer be on this island.

Finally, he could rid himself of this nuisance. Hachidori concealed a slight sense of relief deep within his chest as he navigated the damaged road, skilfully avoiding bumps and obstacles, aiming for the Cross Cape.

"Does that mean… I won't see everyone again?"

Mio asked from the backseat.

Of course. Hachidori thought, but he ignored her.

"Does that mean this is goodbye to everyone?"

Mio asked again in a sorrowful tone. Hachidori remained silent.

── Such naivety.

He mentally spat this out, accelerating to shake off Mio's wishes──.

Flames danced through the air like writhing dragons.

What had once been a dawn that could be mistaken for the heavens had now transformed into a hellish scene of blood, smoke, and explosions.

The chaotic machines of Urano and St Vault continued to spit out streams of gunfire like a murky river. The discordant sounds of propellers and lift devices intertwined, creating a symphonic cacophony of aerial warfare, pregnant with thousands of fragments.

The large Urano bomber "Gorgona," which aimed to incinerate the city of Air Hunt Island, was met by a Beowulf fighter that dove in, showering it with concentrated gunfire while slipping through a ferocious curtain of anti-aircraft fire. But the Gorgona did not fall. It dispersed rounds of armour-piercing shells from its top and bottom like a porcupine, pushing the Beowulf away instead. The injured St Vault pilot, determined to protect the city, made a suicidal charge toward the Gorgona, and the two aircraft collided in a fiery explosion as they plummeted to the ground.

The surviving anti-aircraft batteries fired at the Gorgona as it approached from high altitude with all their might. Anti-aircraft fire, adjusted for a height of six thousand meters, erupted as if a protective flame curtain were being drawn over all of Air Hunt Island. The two Gorgonas bombers that had entered were hit, and the bombs they carried exploded within the aircraft, creating a horrific bloom of flames that added new colours to the cruel sky.

The Idra rushed into the island’s depths to protect Gorgona, raining machine gun fire on the anti-aircraft gunners. However, the gunners continued to aim at the high-flying Gorgona, determined to defend their island, even as they were shot at by the Idra. Despite their comrades being shattered beside them, the soldiers gritted their teeth and focused solely on targeting the enemy bombers.

We must protect this island.

That was the collective sentiment of all St Vault soldiers.

Just this morning, they had enjoyed a peaceful daily life with their families and friends. They could not stand by and watch as their homeland was burned and trampled. Each soldier stood their ground against the mighty forces of Urano, risking their lives.

The counterattack against the second wave of Urano forces was brutal beyond measure. The airfields and anti-aircraft batteries that were supposed to have been neutralized in the first assault were quickly restored by Urano. The fighters taking off from there, along with the surviving anti-aircraft guns, confronted the overwhelming enemy with all their might.

Meanwhile, the St Vault naval fleet, which had been stationed at a nearby island, rushed to the combat zone. United in their training, the newly formed fleet navigated at maximum speed, seeking revenge for their fallen comrades.

They had suffered catastrophic damage. But they could still fight.

Kiyoaki and Illia, battling in the sky, shared the same prayer as every St Vault soldier.

"I'll shoot you down...!!"

The power of the Beowulf was incomparable to the training aircraft Gray Fox. If Gray Fox was a donkey, Beowulf was a wild horse. Undeterred by the G-forces pressing down on him, Kiyoaki concentrated fully, fixing his bloodshot eyes on the target.

Smoke, sparks, and debris from the aircraft hit the windscreen like hail, streaming past behind. It felt like navigating a rapid river filled with floating debris, pursuing through the air.

Visibility was poor. The colour of the sky was obscured. Relying solely on the barely visible wings of the Type 3 Idra, Kiyoaki kept his pursuit steady.

"Illia, I've got your back...!!"

"Do it...!!"

Their voices, exchanged over the speaker, were already parched. Ahead of Kiyoaki's target was Illia. And beyond her was another enemy aircraft. The four aircraft—two enemies and two allies—formed a line, engaged in a fierce survival race.

Illia, trying to take down the lead enemy aircraft, was left vulnerable. Kiyoaki aimed at the enemy aircraft that was poised to take advantage of her opening from behind. If Kiyoaki missed his shot, it would mean Illia’s death.

However, the enemy was also weary. After two assaults today, Kiyoaki and Illia had the advantage in stamina. As time passed, the distance between them shrank, and the enemy aircraft grew larger in Kiyoaki's sights.

Kiyoaki placed his finger on the trigger. The horizontal distance was less than a hundred meters. Eighty, seventy, sixty. Closing in to a critical distance.

At that moment, despite all his self-discipline.

──If I pull the trigger, that person will die.

Such thoughts exploded in Kiyoaki’s mind.

This wasn’t a mock battle. It was real air combat. He had never killed anyone.

──Is it right for me to kill?

──That person has a family. They might have a lover, friends, or children.

──Is it okay for me to kill that person?

His finger trembled. His teeth chattered.

But.

──I must shoot.

──For the sake of my loved ones.

The enemy aircraft, framed in his sights, was covered with the irreplaceable smiles of two people.

This was a smile that must be protected, even at the cost of his own life.

──Mio and Illia.

Their smiles supported Kiyoaki from behind.

For a moment, he was bewildered by his own thoughts, but then Kiyoaki pulled the trigger.

There was no hesitation. Even as debris from the exploded enemy aircraft struck the windscreen, Kiyoaki continued to squeeze the trigger.

"I shot it down!!"

Illia's voice came through the speaker.

She too had apparently taken down her target.

Together, they broke through the debris of the enemy aircraft, ascending. Almost simultaneously, they had both downed their targets. It was a remarkable achievement for their first battle.

Like a pair of birds aiming for the heights of the sky, Kiyoaki and Illia danced side by side.

"I also took down one enemy aircraft!!"

Kiyoaki could hardly contain his excitement.

He was simply happy. He felt no guilt for taking a life; only the joy of having protected his loved ones remained.

"Don't get too excited, there are still enemies out there...!!"

"I know, stay calm, don’t rush...!"

But they quickly regained their composure, reminding each other. Their words were more for the other’s sake than for their own survival.

For the first time in battle, Kiyoaki realized that his bond with Illia was stronger than he had thought. She was someone he could not afford to lose.

──I will protect Illia.

Strengthening that resolve, Kiyoaki scanned the surrounding airspace. He had learned from Akmed that to survive in the battlefield, the first priority was to spot the enemy before they spotted you.

Current altitude: five thousand five hundred meters.

Below, Air Hunt Island was in flames. At the naval port, a new battleship was broken in two, and a new aircraft carrier was grounded, belching black smoke. The bombardment of the city seemed to have begun as well, and fires were erupting in familiar streets, despite the desperate defence. He recognized the area near the movie theatre where he had gone on his first date with Mio. A place filled with memories was being destroyed helplessly...

"…Damn it!! Damn it…!!"

All he could do was curse. An overwhelming hatred for Urano surged within him.

"Enemy fighter formation to the lower right!! Aim for the lead aircraft!!"

Illia's calm voice reached him through the speaker. Looking in the direction indicated, he saw a formation of seven Idra fighters advancing at an altitude of about four thousand five hundred meters. From behind, a new squadron of Gorgona bombers was coming in. Illia was targeting the leader of the air superiority fighter squad.

"Got it, be careful...!"

"I’ll go for a hit-and-run, don’t fall behind!!"

"Understood, let’s go!"

Illia turned sharply like a hawk and dove straight down. Kiyoaki followed closely. The top surface of the enemy leader's aircraft came into view──.

The commander of the Urano air superiority fighter squadron, Karnasion, sensed a slight discomfort above him. It was the murderous intent of an enemy pilot, detectable only by those favoured by the sky.

Instinctively, he turned his gaze toward the eastern sky, right next to the sun. Without focusing directly on the sun, he consciously shifted his point of focus away from it to recognize the approaching enemy aircraft.

There was nothing there.

Next, he looked straight up. Two Beowulf fighters were descending at a forty-two-degree angle. They didn’t seem to be the cunning enemies who would hide behind the sun.

──Newbies.

Karnasion’s heart swelled with joy.

He longed to torment inexperienced foes, rob them of their flying capabilities, and witness their expressions of despair as they faced death.

"Uheh...!!"

Letting out a pleased sound, Karnasion pushed down on the control stick.

He would feign escape. The enemy should get cocky and chase after him.

──I will send them to hell.

Behind the bandages wrapped around his face, the scorched smile of the "King of the Skies" spread wide.

Suddenly, the lead aircraft spun around. It seemed to have noticed Karnasion’s aggressive approach. It hastily turned to flee toward the sea, but it was clear from its erratic movements that it was taken by surprise. He could not let this opportunity slip away. Kiyoaki shouted into the mic.

"I can take it, Illia...!!"

"I know, cover me from behind...!!"

Kiyoaki shifted his focus to the enemy aircraft behind. They seemed to have noticed Illia and were trying to swarm her. Without hesitation, he opened fire with his machine gun. Three friendly fighters, realizing the danger posed by the Idra, charged in at high speed from the side. Chaos erupted as dozens of friend and foe became entangled in the melee.

"Ugh...!!"

Kiyoaki was experiencing aerial combat for the first time, surrounded by a chaotic mix of allies and enemies.

He couldn't tell which aircraft was Illia's.

If she had her nose art on, he would have recognized her, but students were not allowed such privileges.

"Illia, I can't see you!!"

He called out over the mic. The noise from the speaker grew intense. The communication lines were all mixed up with both friendly and enemy transmissions. The barely audible response came through:

"…Kar…sion!!"

The interference was terrible, making it hard to make out what was being said. It seemed she was shouting something, but he couldn’t grasp it at all.

Kiyoaki panicked, searching the surroundings for Illia. All he saw were the Idra, lurking and waiting for an opening.

As he focused on searching, one enemy aircraft suddenly positioned itself directly behind him from the upper right.

"Dammit…!!"

By the time he realized his mistake, it was too late. Kiyoaki had found himself on the receiving end of the chase.

──If this continues, I will be shot down.

"Illia, I'm sorry, I’ll definitely find you…!!"

He threw out an apology into the speaker, but there was no response.

Bullets spewed from the enemy aircraft, whizzing past the windscreen. The aircraft rattled loudly, indicating that it had taken hits.

──I can't die here.

Kiyoaki steeled himself, prepared to confront this enemy.

One of them would end their life here today, leaving sorrow and despair for those who remained.

"I'm coming for you, Urano…!!"

Gathering all his courage, Kiyoaki executed a half-roll, flipping the world upside down and diving toward the ground──.

At that moment, the fleeing enemy aircraft twisted to dive further, and the nose art painted on its front became etched in Illia’s mind.

──A black panther.

In that instant, every hair on Illia’s body stood on end.

"Karnasion!!"

The King of the Skies was now fleeing with all its might right before her eyes.

Words her father had instilled in her since childhood burned into Illia's brain.

"I fly to become the King of the Skies."

Illia had been pursuing this distant goal, sacrificing any decent treatment as a girl and any true happiness as a human since the moment she was born.

Now, that goal stood right in front of her.

She was in a fighter plane, soaring through the same sky.

──Everything is for this moment.

Illia's eyes transformed into those of a fierce predator. A year ago, when she met Karnasion, she was piloting a large airship. The conditions had not allowed for aerial combat then. But this time, she was gripping the controls of a fighter plane. In this sky, she could fight under the same conditions.

"Don't run away, fight!!"

She shouted as she chased after him at full speed.

Her calmness had completely vanished. She was only filled with excitement.

If a pilot lost their composure in aerial combat, it meant death.

Her father, Karsten, had drilled this into her. It was common knowledge among pilots worldwide.

Yet, the figure of Karnasion fleeing beyond the obstruction and windscreen burned through Illia’s thoughts.

──If I shoot down that enemy, I will become the King of the Skies.

──Father will recognize me.

──He will praise me.

"Fight, Karnasion!!"

She roared.

Karnasion, fleeing at full speed, had almost forcibly pulled his nose up.

However, perhaps due to his panic, he made a mistake in his manoeuvre, executing a strange roll at an awkward angle.

If she continued this chase, she would catch up.

──I can shoot down Karnasion.

Illia followed that roll without hesitation.

Karnasion was about to reach the top of the roll, but it was clear that her positioning was advantageous.

Illia peered through the sights.

Karnasion’s silhouette was already extending beyond the crosshairs.

It was a distance that even a novice could hit without missing.

──I’ve won...!

As she felt goosebumps all over her body and prepared to pull the trigger in that moment──.

"I thought I had won until the top of the roll. Your wings were sticking out of my sights."

Kiyoaki’s voice echoed in the back of her mind.

"But after that... you froze in mid-air. Just for a moment."

His words shifted to an incomprehensible murmur.

──It’s a trap.

In that instant, Illia kicked the footbar with all her might.

Her aircraft was flung away from the trajectory of the roll.

A tremendous force pressed down on her body.

Clenching her teeth, she sent her right eye outside the windscreen.

Karnasion was suspended in mid-air.

Then, like a solo performer, he rotated his aircraft, directing the nose back toward the previous roll's trajectory.

If he had continued to pursue, Illia’s side would have been ripped apart by Karnasion.

“Karsten Turn.”

That name echoed once more in the back of his mind, in Kiyoaki's voice.

The technique that only her father, Karsten, could perform was now being executed right before Illia’s eyes.

“Guh...”

In that moment of frustration──.

Illia's aircraft shattered into pieces.

It had suffered a structural failure due to excessive load.

Illia was thrown from the cockpit, head down, plummeting toward Air Hunt Island──.

“Gih...!?”

Karnasion opened his right eye, barely able to due to the burns.

He had just completed the Karsten Turn and should have been aiming his guns at the foolish rookie’s side──but there was nothing in his sights.

──Had I been read?

He quickly glanced behind his aircraft.

The pursuing enemy craft had been shattered to pieces.

Before he entered the turn, they must have realized the trap and kicked the footbar. Their reckless manoeuvre had pushed their aircraft beyond its limits, resulting in a self-destruction.

There was no thrill of victory. Only frustration remained.

──Does this enemy know this technique?

No one should know that Karnasion could perform the Karsten Turn. Because he had shot down every enemy aircraft that had pursued him using this technique. Seeing the Karsten Turn meant death for that enemy.

And yet, he had been sensed.

“...Gii...”

Inexpressible frustration transformed into a sound deep in his throat.

Looking down, he saw the parachute of the enemy pilot that had been ejected from the cockpit opening slowly, beginning its descent. Karnasion tilted the control stick and slowly circled around the pilot.

──It’s a girl. Still young.

To his surprise, the pilot was a girl with long red hair. She executed a textbook parachute descent, extending her long legs forward. She seemed aware, fixing her sharp gaze on Karnasion with her slanted eyes.

She was a beautiful girl.

She possessed an external beauty that Karnasion lacked, along with remarkable qualities as a pilot.

Somewhere, he recognized her. Yes, she was one of the young officers referred to as "The Seven of Eriadore," featured in a publication of the Urano Air Force.

──Karsten Kreischmidt's only daughter.

There was no doubt about it. The vibrant red-haired girl from the article matched the appearance of the girl now parachuting down.

──Should I kill her?

If he caught her parachute with his wings or fired a bullet, this girl would die.

For Karnasion, having a beautiful girl’s life in his hands was satisfying.

He persistently circled around the helpless girl, slowly observing her miserable descent.

She seemed to understand that her life was being toyed with. Drifting helplessly in mid-air, the girl glared at Karnasion with a determined gaze.

──This woman will pursue me, be defeated in return, and become mine.

He suddenly thought of this.

It was a pleasurable game. To carve the humiliation of defeat into the talented, beautiful girl, making her pursue him and, after she grew stronger, to deliver another defeat. Watching the tear-stained face of this girl, twisted in frustration as her efforts crumbled, he wanted to revel in his own greatness.

Karnasion opened the windscreen, exposing his grotesque appearance to the girl.

He spread a burned, scarred grin beneath the bandages.

The girl’s expression twisted in clear anguish. For a girl raised under the elite education of "The King of the Skies," Karsten Kreischmidt, this must have been unbearable humiliation.

──Chase me. With all your heart and soul.

──Fill your thoughts with me.

──Devote your life to pursuing me, only to be defeated in the end.

[[File:KarnasionIllia.png|thumb]]

──Become a wretched loser, having your dreams and hopes snatched away, and become mine.

As he showered these unspoken words upon the girl, Karnasion flapped his wings. After mocking her with several wingbeats, he returned to the combat zone in search of his next prey──.

At the hill before Cross Cape, Hachidori stopped the bike and turned back to Mio.

“...I’ll distract the military police. You need to go on alone from here.”

“...Huh?”

“Fire this signal flare at the rocky area below Cross Cape. A flying vessel should land to recover the stranded personnel. Get on it and escape.”

Mio remained frozen in the back seat. Hachidori, looking ahead down the road, spoke coldly and matter-of-factly.

“They must already know that you’ve escaped. Police officers all over the island are searching for you. If I’m seen with you, I’ll be suspected. I need to stay at the officer academy and continue my mission.”

After delivering this in one breath, he gestured with his chin toward Mio, who still wouldn’t move.

“Get off.”

Mio silently dismounted from the bike and gazed out over the island’s landscape from the hilltop.

In the sky, fierce aerial combat continued. Enemy and allied aircraft fell, spewing smoke and turning into flames upon hitting the ground. The burning city, the military port, the anti-aircraft gun positions were all vividly drawn into Mio’s eyes.

“...Did we help with this?”

“Yeah. Based on the information I leaked, plans were made to neutralize the island's military forces. You supported me. We share the guilt.”

“...I see. ...That’s how it is.”

Mio stood quietly, being blown by the wind at the hilltop.

Then she closed her eyes, as if contemplating something, and turned to Hachidori.

“Hey.”

In her jade-coloured eyes, there was a glint of a dead soul.

“Kill me.”

The wind swept through, tousling Mio's golden hair.

“You don’t mind killing someone, do you? You said I was a burden. So, go ahead and kill me.”

Hachidori snorted.

“Do you really want me to kill you?”

“Yes.”

“If you thought I would stop, you were mistaken.”

Hachidori drew his pistol, aiming it between Mio’s eyebrows.

“There will be no pain. It’ll be over in an instant.”

“Yeah.”

Before death, Mio’s eyes did not waver.

It was clear from her gaze that she was completely despairing of life.

──I’ll kill her.

So Hachidori thought.

──It would be easier for her this way.

Hachidori understood Mio’s pain. Every choice offered led to despair, and as long as she lived, there would be no light of hope. There was no reason to live in such anguish. He thought that killing her without inflicting pain would be the least he could do to show compassion.

──Hey, Hachidori.

Just as he was about to pull the trigger, he heard Reiner Beck’s voice from within.

──Could you do it for me? I won't do anything bad.

Hachidori tried to ignore it. Reiner, who acted as if he were alive, was merely a created being. It was impossible for him to possess independent will and speak.

But.

──If you kill Mio, you’ll anger General Zenon, you know?

──Mio is the general's favourite. It’d be better to keep her alive; it’ll earn you points.

That was a plausible argument.

“Can you keep her alive?”

He asked Reiner.

──I don’t know. But I’ll try my best.

──Just so you know, this isn’t for Mio. It’s for your advancement.

Hachidori pondered briefly and then relinquished his consciousness to Reiner.

A carefree smile spread across Reiner’s face as he raised the gun.

“Jumping off a cliff for a dramatic suicide? What a tragic heroine. So lame.”

Reiner lowered the gun and smiled at Mio.

“I’m not going to shoot. Run away. The Urano recovery team is excellent. They won’t leave a comrade behind in enemy territory. Go down to the cliff and fire the signal flare. You’ll be saved.”

Reiner forcibly placed the flare gun into Mio’s hands.

Mio’s powerless eyes turned to Reiner. She seemed to quickly realize that his persona had switched.

“...Why? I don’t want to escape. ...I’m fine here. ...I don’t want to live anymore.”

Tears flowed from Mio’s eyes, unable to be held back, spilling over.

“You betrayed your comrades. You plunged everyone who helped you into this hell. You drove the kind people of the town to their deaths. There’s no way I can continue living like this!”

Mio threw down the signal flare and attempted to snatch the pistol from Reiner’s hands.

Reiner moved the pistol behind his back, refusing to give it up.

Still wearing a frivolous smile, he poured strength into his words.

“Stop whining, you idiot. If you die, who will they hate?”

Though he continued to chuckle, his eyes were devoid of any laughter.

“If you want to atone for your sins, don’t die.”

Mio turned her gaze away from Reiner.

“Live. That is your atonement.”

Holding onto Mio’s wrist tightly, Reiner spoke firmly.

“You’re the lowest of the low. You betrayed the comrades who saved your life, leaked information to the enemy, and ended up turning this island into what it is now. You can’t escape from this. You’re a perfect, utterly despicable traitor, just like me.”

Mio squeezed her eyes shut, tears continuing to flow from beneath her closed lids.

“But if you die here, the ones who have been trampled will have no one to hate. They won’t be able to throw stones or spit at you, or curse and beat you until death. You have a duty to let those who were trampled throw stones and spit at you, to bear their curses.”

Reiner grabbed Mio’s chin and forced her face toward him.

“Don’t run away. Look at me.”

“...Let go...”

“Open your eyes. Look at me.”

“...Just... let it be...”

“Mio!!”

When he shouted, Mio opened her eyes slightly, frightened.

Reiner was no longer smiling.

It was the first time she saw Reiner’s serious expression.

“Live, even if you’re hated by your comrades. That is your atonement.”

“...”

“If they are important to you, if you truly care for Kiyoaki, then...”

The earnest words woven by Reiner were carried to Mio by the howling wind.

“Even if you crawl, even if it’s unglamorous, live. Keep living and survive. That is the only way you can atone for your sins right now.”

Then he let go of Mio’s wrist.

Mio crumpled to the ground, powerless.

Having said what he needed to, Reiner put on his helmet and mounted his beloved bike.

“I’ll leave the rest to you. You can choose to die here or to live. I have things to do, so this is goodbye.”

He revved the bike’s engine and looked down at Mio.

“It was fun, Mio. I believe we’ll meet again somewhere. I want to eat your katsudon until I’m full again.”

Then, looking up at the sky with a carefree smile, Reiner shouted loudly.

“Even if we become enemies, we will not hate each other!!”

With arms wide open like a theatre actor, he called out to the sky.

“Friendship is eternal!!”

He proclaimed the vow made among the seven, jokingly but with all his might.

The sky seemed to embrace that vow.

Though the ground was hell, the heavens were ironically clear.

Mio couldn’t understand why they had to revisit such a promise at this moment.

After saying that much, Reiner opened the throttle and dashed away like the wind.

Mio sat on the ground, powerless, staring at the objects lying on the road.

The signal flare and the pistol.

Tools for living and tools for dying.

The cruel god had presented her with a choice laid out before her.

Mio stared blankly at the two tools with her colourless eyes.

“Live, even if you are hated by your comrades. That is your atonement.”

Reiner's words echoed in the back of her mind.

“Even if we are divided into enemies and allies, we will not hate each other.”

“Friendship is eternal.”

For some reason, the vow they exchanged rose from the depths of her heart.

Was she going to die here to end this unbearable life?

Or was she going to live, to atone for her betrayal to her comrades?

No matter which choice she made, both paths led to hell. Mio had to choose one from these sad options.

Rushing through the flames, bloodshot eyes quickly scanned the surroundings, finding a brief opening in the thick smoke to soar towards the sky.

Only when he broke through the pitch-black haze did he realize his aircraft had reversed direction.

Looking up at the ground, he saw the sky below. Correcting his line of sight with the control stick, Kiyoaki confirmed that he had shaken off the enemy aircraft that had been pursuing him. He had learned that by skilfully utilizing clouds and explosions, he could recover even when being attacked from behind.

Quickly surveying the area, he searched for more enemy aircraft.

The combat zone was a chaotic mix of allies and foes.

The Urano patrol ship, equipped with a lifting device, was fiercely firing on the attacking enemy fighters amidst a torrential downpour of explosions. In response, the St Vault's attack fleet, which had rushed to the scene, was unleashing a tremendous barrage of anti-aircraft fire, creating a chaotic scene between the sky and the sea filled with gunpowder smoke, where countless aircraft burst into flames and plummeted down.

With the roar of a thousand cannonballs echoing, the impact shook the entire aircraft like a hammer. Gripping the control stick with all his might, Kiyoaki soared through the explosion-laden battlefield. No matter how far he flew, fire, smoke, or shattered steel armour lay before his eyes.

He had experienced air battles before in Eriadore and Red Goat, but this was on a completely different scale. It was a major showdown between the massive air forces of Urano and St Vault. He was spread-eagle in the heart of it all. He was still alive and able to fight.

But.

──Don’t get too heated. Know your limits.

He continued to remind himself as if telling Illia. If he got caught up in the frenzy of the battlefield and became a mere pawn, he would die. He repeated that caution to himself every time he spotted enemy aircraft at the corner of his vision, resolving not to pursue recklessly.

At that moment, the shape of the Cross Cape of Air Hunt Island came into view.

An ominous feeling swept over him. A sense that had saved Kiyoaki's life several times before knocked on his temple.

His gaze caught sight of the source of his instinct.

"……!?"

At the base of the cape, a girl was approaching the rocky shore where white waves crashed.

A cluster of four diamond-shaped rocks marked a spot where seawater formed a cross. That girl inexplicably stepped down to a dangerous place where one could be swept away by the waves.

He recognized the golden hair and her way of walking.

No, even with the difference in altitude and distance, he couldn't mistake her.

"Mio!!"

A scream burst forth. Kiyoaki's current altitude was two hundred meters. His voice couldn’t reach her.

He couldn’t understand what Mio was doing. However, he could tell it wasn’t something ordinary, even if she looked like a mere speck from afar. Why was Mio not at the police station, and why was she alone in such a place?

Then──Mio's small hand was raised to the sky, and a flying object with a green tail was launched towards the air.

It was a flare. Following the green one, blue, yellow, and white flares were successively drawn in the sky, each with a long tail of various colours.

It seemed to be some sort of distress signal, but it was clearly not from the St Vault air and naval forces.

An ominous premonition burned in Kiyoaki's mind.

"……Mio……!!"

He shouted briefly and focused his gaze around. He spotted a small stretch of white beach near the rocky area. If he landed there, it seemed possible.

There was no need for thought. Kiyoaki dove straight towards the white beach, successfully touching down on the sandy shore.

He opened the cockpit.

Mio stood at the rocky point, staring intently at the sky above.

From here, the horizontal distance was about seven hundred meters.

"Mio!!"

He called out shortly, straining his eyes to scan the surroundings. He spotted a small white beach near the rocky area. That looked like a spot where he could land.

There was no need to think. Kiyoaki immediately aimed for the white beach and descended, kicking up sand as he successfully touched down at the water’s edge.

He opened the canopy.

"Mio!!"

Kiyoaki shouted at the top of his lungs, leaping out of the plane and setting foot on the sandy beach. He began running toward Mio.

Mio stood at the edge of the rocky outcrop, her gaze fixed intensely on the sky. The horizontal distance between them was about 700 meters.

The wind above scattered the colourful smoke. She couldn’t be sure if help was truly coming or not.

However.

──Whether it comes or not, it doesn’t matter.

She had lost interest in her own fate. She didn’t care what happened to her. Even if a bomb hit and she was blown apart right here, she wouldn’t feel a shred of sadness.

What was left for her now was just a single determination.

──To live, to be hated by everyone.

Dying was easy. It would all end, and she could return to zero. For her, it would be quite comfortable, and if possible, she would want to do just that.

However, as Reiner said, choosing that would be too cruel to her comrades.

──Why did I commit suicide without knowing about my betrayal, leaving them tormented?

She thought that was incredibly irresponsible. She wanted to avoid causing any more suffering to her innocent comrades.

──If the anger of the comrades with nowhere to go could be released by hating her.

──If it would allow them to find a target to take aim at without anguish.

──Even if it was shameful. Even if it meant crawling.

──She had to live.

Mio raised her face.

She looked back at the island and gazed at the blazing Air Hunt Island.

Deeply imprinting this sight into the depths of her soul, into the very core of her being.

──To live, bearing this sin.

She had made that resolve. She didn’t care how or where she would die from here on. She would live and live until her fate ran out, believing that this would atone for her sins. She hoped that the hearts of the comrades she had hurt would be saved, even just a little.

At that moment, the roar of a lifting device echoed down from the sky.

Looking up, she saw an unfamiliar airship about twenty meters long descending towards Cross Cape. It was a small flying ship from Urano, equipped with four lifting devices on its hull, without any wings. It seemed to have already spotted Mio, as it came to a halt fifty meters above the ground and dropped a recovery rope.

Mio focused on the rope hanging before her. A hook for personnel recovery was attached to its end, and the crew of the airship leaned out from the hull, urgently signalling her to hook onto it with one hand.

──I’m going to ride this ship and go to Pleiades.

Mio silently grasped the hook.

Then she looked back once more at the sight of Air Hunt Island.

It had been a place that had allowed her to spend a rich year. She had made many good memories.

She had met comrades she believed she would be with for a lifetime.

But now, she felt she had no right to say goodbye to them.

──It’s okay to hate me.

──It’s okay to want to kill me.

Flowing unspoken farewell words deep within her heart, Mio looked up at the sky and was about to signal the airship's crew that she was ready.

At that moment──.

"Mio!!"

A familiar voice reached her.

Startled, she turned her gaze back to the rocks.

On one of the split rocks, separated by a strip of seawater, stood Kiyoaki.

Kiyoaki looked up and shouted at the airship's crew.

"Stop…!! Let Mio go!!"

It seemed he mistakenly thought Mio was being taken away. If that continued, she would be shot from above. She was too exposed in front of the enemy ship.

Mio shouted back.

"Don’t come!! I called for this myself!!"

Kiyoaki returned his gaze to Mio, still unable to comprehend the situation.

"Let’s go back, Mio…!!"

The seawater gap separating them was only about one and a half meters wide. Kiyoaki looked as if he would leap over to her rock any moment now.

──He must not come.

──He would be shot.

Mio shouted with all her might.

"Don’t come here!!"

Kiyoaki flinched, startled by Mio's angry voice for the first time.

He was within reach if she stretched out her hand.

But she couldn’t reach out. The distance between them was now a barrier that would never close.

──She had to say goodbye to Kiyoaki here.

Mio steeled herself. She raised her palm to the airship above, signalling them not to shoot.

──I must tell the truth.

──So that Kiyoaki can forget about me from now on.

──So that her comrades can truly hate her.

Grateful to the cruel god for this opportunity, Mio put as much disdain as she could into her expression as she looked at the one she loved most.

"Maybe you still haven’t realized? What that cop said was true."

"……Huh?"

Mio put on an even more disdainful expression and looked coldly at Kiyoaki.

"I’m a traitor. A spy for Urano. I entered the officer academy to deceive everyone."

Kiyoaki heard her words, but there was no reaction. He stared at Mio with his mouth agape like a mechanical doll.

Mio shrugged and continued with even colder words.

"I’d appreciate it if you could understand quickly. But it seems impossible for you. After all, my performance was too perfect."

Kiyoaki's expression gradually began to show signs of shock. He was starting to comprehend Mio's words.

Waves crashed onto the rocky shore. The summer sky was painted with thousands of silver sprays, and a heavy roar covered Mio’s voice.

Against the backdrop of silver glimmer, Mio wore a cruelly pale expression that Kiyoaki had never seen before, with the Urano airship hovering above.

But deep within Mio's heart, pain screamed in anguish. Her words and feelings were separated, more painful than any hurt she had ever experienced.

Yet she couldn't let tears fall. Mio summoned all her willpower and began to weave together the disjointed words from her heart and mouth.

"Hey, Kiyoaki, do you know?"

"I'll say it again since once probably isn’t enough. I’m a traitor."

"When I first met you, I thought you were my destined one."

"I leaked all the information about this island to Urano. Thanks to that, this happened. What a great achievement. I’ll be praised by my superiors when I return."

"It was my dream to become your bride."

"By the way, the operation on Messus Island was also my dad's doing. He leaked all the island's information to Urano, making it easy to conquer Odessa Fortress. The reason the area was safe back then was because my dad was there."

"I believed we would always be together."

"Deceiving everyone was the most fun. You’re all so gullible. I’m a member of Urano, yet you all trusted me so easily."

"I thought I would spend my life by your side, laughing together."

"Making promises like not hating each other even if we became enemies—how foolish."

"Goodbye, the first person I fell in love with."

"Everything I’ve said to you until now was a lie."

"Goodbye, my beloved hero."

"Maybe you don’t believe me? The things I said in the canola field? I only said them because it was funny to see you suffer, so it would help if you just forgot."

"Thank you for all the memories."

"This concludes my mission. I’m heading back to Pleiades. Ah, it was fun. Well then, bye forever."

"I will never forget you."

"……Huh……?"

Despite the harsh words hurled at him, Kiyoaki continued to stare only at Mio.

Mio looked up to the sky and shouted.

"What are you hesitating for? The job is done, so hurry up and retreat!! I don’t want to stay on this island for even a second longer!!"

The crew, flustered, made the lifting device roar to life.

The airship began to ascend. The rope tightened, lifting Mio's body, her shoes leaving the rocky ground. The howling wind tangled Mio's hair, and below, Kiyoaki grew distant. Tears that she had held back threatened to spill.

──Not yet, don’t cry.

──Absolutely, don’t let the tears fall.

Mio maintained her cruelly pale expression as she looked down at Kiyoaki.

As they ascended beyond a hundred meters, and their expressions became indistinguishable, Mio finally twisted her face and let go of her reason.

"Ugh… ugh…"

She knew she had done something unforgivable.

But this was the only way to reveal the truth. If she didn’t do this, Kiyoaki and the others would have no one to hate.

"Sniff… hic…"

With tears streaming down her face, Mio was taken aboard the airship. The ship quickly departed the combat zone, heading toward the distant air fortress "Balsinos."

Outside the window, the blazing Air Hunt Island receded into the distance.

Leaving the island where her comrades were still fighting desperately, Mio was being taken alone to the air fortress she had never visited and to the unseen aerial city of Pleiades──.

"Mio…?"

Left behind on the rocks, Kiyoaki gazed up at the small airship disappearing into the distance, dazed.

At first, he couldn’t understand the meaning of Mio’s words, but gradually they began to sink in, confronting him with an undeniable reality.

"Mio is… a traitor?"

Since the winter break, Mio had suddenly begun to distance herself from everyone. She had started to treat Kiyoaki like a stranger, as if he were someone else.

The reason was.

"Because she’s a spy for Urano?"

He didn’t want to accept it. But various events aligned with what Mio had said.

"It was… fun deceiving everyone?"

Mio’s disdainful expression and her terrible words echoed in his mind.

"What does that even mean? What is this…?"

Kiyoaki looked up at the sky. The battle continued as fiercely as ever, with enemy and allied aircraft clashing violently, but the airship with Mio had already vanished beyond his sight.

"Is this… goodbye?"

Mio was gone.

That fact was the only thing he understood.

"Is this how we’re parting?"

If he believed Mio’s words, then it meant that she was the one responsible for destroying Air Hunt Island like this. Not just this island, but the invasion of Messus Island too, as Ethan had claimed she was involved.

Mio's true identity was that of a covert operative.

The weight of that truth pierced Kiyoaki’s heart.

"…What… is this?"

That was all he could murmur.

Floating in the airspace where Mio had disappeared was the Urano air fortress "Balsinos." It continued to unleash its aerial strike teams from above, showing no signs of relenting in its attack on Air Hunt Island. Despite knowing the situation was anything but peaceful, Kiyoaki continued to seek Mio's form within the demonic shadow of the fortress.

After approximately fifteen hours had passed since the attack began, and as the sun set, the two air fortresses vanished beyond the horizon, having destroyed every military facility, residential area, and the Air Hunt Officer Academy on the surface. Although they could have occupied the island at any time, they apparently judged that maintaining control would be difficult due to logistical reasons, and no landing was made. After the monstrous destruction had departed, only the wreckage of the new fleet and the scorched remains of Air Hunt Island were left behind.
[[File:KiyoakiLooking.png|thumb]]
Amidst the rubble, Kiyoaki and his comrades waited for Mio’s return.

But she never came back.

In the days that followed, the operation headquarters investigation committee examined the incident of the Air Hunt Island attack and publicly announced the fact that a covert operative had leaked all the island’s information to Urano.

The investigation report released to the entire St Vault Empire concluded that a single officer candidate was responsible for the outflow of critical information, including the locations of military facilities, underground fuel depots, fleet moorings, and vacation dates, as well as sabotage of defence nets and anti-submarine nets.

The name of the infiltrating operative was Mio Syira.

That name would forever be imprinted in the St Vault Empire as a synonym for "traitor"──.

END VOLUME 3

Toaru Hikuushi e no Seiyaku:V3Part3

2025-12-01T02:42:52Z

QCore:

Part 20 (Part 3 of Volume 3)

Against the vast blue sky, spring flowers of various colours were thrown up above as two Gray Foxes flew past, making explosive sounds.

Petals caught in the propeller wash danced into the May sky. The training aircraft, Gray Fox, climbed high, leaving trails like frolicking puppies.

At the airfield, all the students from the Air Hunt Academy’s aviation department were looking up at the two fighter planes with rapt attention. And they all understood that the skills of the two soaring through the sky had already far surpassed those of mere cadets.

Kiyoaki Sakagami and Illia Kreischmidt.

These two were destined to rise to the top of the multi-island archipelago.

Even the instructors observing the air combat felt a sense of awe, realizing that the two were reaching a realm far removed from the ordinary aviation students. As the raw talents of the two clashed head-on, they rapidly honed each other, radiating brilliance that was dazzling to behold. Rather than having them spar with regular students, it would make more sense for Kiyoaki and Illia to have exclusive matches for their progress. This decision by the instructors, made a month ago as they began a new mock air combat race in April, had now yielded astounding results visible in the blue sky.

And the ones feeling this progress the most were the two at the controls.

"Illia."

As if it were a habit, Kiyoaki looked up at Illia dancing in the windscreen, murmuring her name.

The green landscape of Air Hunt Island spread wide above him.

Descending at a speed of 530 kilometres per hour, Kiyoaki stared up intently, keeping his gaze fixed on Illia’s movements.

Although they fought one-on-one almost daily, he never grew tired of watching Illia's aerial ballet. Her refinement increased day by day, captivating not only those watching but also those pursuing her.

Noble and dignified, the knight of the skies danced.

—I want to embrace her.

He no longer denied or rejected the whispers of his instincts.

Transmitting the longing from the depths of his soul through the control stick and throttle, he poured all his strength into chasing after Illia, who danced like a fairy.

As he focused all his physical strength and senses on following Illia, he eventually entered a mysterious realm.

He could see even the wind being torn apart.

The sunlight bouncing off the wings scattered like droplets into the air. The wind, light, and colours felt as if they were seeping into a world different from the ground. Every cell in his body was cleansed, and his heart felt reborn, as his worries and frustrations from the ground faded away, forgotten.

If only he could keep flying like this.

—With Illia.

No thought was necessary. He just needed to communicate this longing to the Gray Fox. His beloved aircraft sensed the pilot’s heartbeat and reflected it in its aerial manoeuvres.

Like a child running through a flower field, Illia looked back at Kiyoaki, beckoning and escaping.

Kiyoaki followed her invitation. He knew a trap awaited ahead, but he was confident he could surpass it.

As the sunlight bounced off the top surface of the aircraft, Illia began a barrel roll. Perhaps unusually, she seemed to miscalculate her manoeuvre, the trajectory becoming slightly off.

—I've got this.

Kiyoaki was sure of his victory as he pursued.

But just before reaching the apex of her roll—Illia’s aircraft slid slightly.

"…?!"

It was an aerial manoeuvre he had never seen before.

As if time had stopped at that moment, Illia’s aircraft floated in the air.

Kiyoaki leaned forward.

Illia remained suspended in that one point, rotating gracefully—as if dancing in solitude—and then...

She stalled and entered a spin.

"What?"

Kiyoaki didn’t understand what was happening. The instructor’s voice came through the speakers.

“It’s a win for Sakagami, Illia! Recover!”

Illia’s plane spun around like a kite with a broken string, falling about a thousand meters. Then, she corrected her direction and regained control. Since it was just a mock air battle, she was fine, but in an actual combat situation, she would have been shot down before she could recover.

Having escaped the spin, Illia descended towards the airfield as if nothing had happened. Kiyoaki realized he had won and followed behind her.

With this, his record against Illia stood at seven wins, six losses, and four draws. For the first time, he had a winning record. While he felt satisfied, another kind of battle with Illia awaited him on the ground. Lately, he had been looking forward to that daily challenge just as much as the air battles.

The polished floor of the gym reflected the shadows of the two facing each other.

Both were clad in their uniforms, wearing men’s masks, and holding their shinai with focused eyes.

Outside the window, it was already dark. The silence after classes fell heavily upon the two.

Through their masks, they sharpened their senses to perceive everything about their opponent.

Gaze, tip of the sword, arms, footwork—everything provided clues to anticipate the next move.

Forgetting even to breathe, they concentrated solely on the opponent before them, as if they were immersed in a sweet intoxication, separated from the outside world into their own inner realm. A sense of happiness, felt only in that moment, arose from deep within the tension, and they unconsciously wished for time to stand still.

Suddenly, the surrounding atmosphere quivered.

In that instant, Kiyoaki made a big step forward.

The tip of his sword aimed for his opponent’s throat, but it was evaded. In the next moment, Illia’s sword came down from the side and struck Kiyoaki’s men.

A loud “thwack” echoed throughout the gym, breaking the silence.

The match was decided.

Kiyoaki, panting heavily, returned to the starting line and bowed.

Then he removed his mask and smiled at Illia.

“As expected, I still can’t match you with a sword.”

Illia also took off her mask. Her tied-up red hair suited her striking features very well.

“Are you saying you can beat me in the sky?”

She tightened her gaze and boldly challenged him.

At first, Kiyoaki was taken aback by her strong tone, but he had come to understand that it was Illia’s way of hiding her shyness.

The narrow gym was currently almost monopolized by the kendo club. Most students were exhausted from mandatory practices, so there weren’t many clubs still actively training after school. This kendo club was also in a position where it borrowed the names of Reiner, Cecil, and Mio just to maintain its existence, and only Kiyoaki and Illia trained diligently every day.

There was not a hint of loneliness. Kiyoaki found immense joy in spending his afternoons alone with Illia in the gym.

“That's not what I meant. But I did manage to win one against you in the sky.”

As he joked lightly, Illia became even more intense in her tone.

“Today’s loss was certainly my mistake. However, the losses before that were due to engine trouble. It wasn’t a difference in skill!”

Kiyoaki recently learned that Illia was quite competitive. And he was also figuring out how to handle her.

“That’s an excuse. It doesn’t hold up on the battlefield.”

“What are you talking about? On the battlefield, I have to look after my own aircraft! I can’t see it at school; I leave everything to the mechanics!”

When he teased her, her face turned bright red as she retorted, revealing a youthful innocence. Although Illia usually had a blank expression, she would change her gaze and become animated when the topic of the sky came up, which made Kiyoaki feel the emotional distance between them had greatly shortened.

After losing in the mock air battle, Illia would often come to Kiyoaki to ask detailed questions about her piloting. It seemed she wanted to know what kind of evasions were the most bothersome from the perspective of the one being chased. Kiyoaki was willing to engage with her, but he knew it would take a while.

“Let’s continue this in the officer’s room. I’m hungry.”

“…Got it. I’ll see you later. I have some questions I want to ask you about today’s air battle.”

Illia put on a serious face and quickly left the gym. Kiyoaki also took off his uniform, showered, and headed to the officer’s room reserved for “The Seven of Eriadore” in the student building.

A month and a half had passed since they became fourth-year students.

Kagura and Balthazar had graduated. Mio had improved a little compared to before, but she still tended to retreat into her shell. Now, only Kiyoaki, Cecil, Reiner, and Illia used the officer’s room. The days of the seven of them laughing and chatting late into the night had passed, and the officer’s room had become quite lonely.

“Good evening… Oh? Is it just you, Illia?”

When Kiyoaki entered the officer’s room in his loungewear, he found Illia sitting alone on the sofa, reading the air combat training manual.

“Yeah. Cecil was here until a moment ago, but she went back to her room because the daytime practice was tough.”

Illia replied curtly without looking up from her book.

She wore a comfortable outfit, just a T-shirt paired with sweatpants.

Recently, Kiyoaki had been seeing Illia in such casual attire more often. Apparently, she didn’t care much about clothing, so Cecil had forced her to go shopping and pick out outfits that suited her. In casual wear, her feminine figure was more apparent than it was in uniform, making Kiyoaki feel a bit flustered at times.

Oblivious to his feelings, Illia looked up from her book.

“Do you want some tea?”

“Oh, yeah, thanks.”

Illia went to the kitchen, poured tea from the pot into a cup, and roughly squeezed some lemon before placing it on the dining table.

“It’s delicious.”

Kiyoaki sat down on the sofa across from Illia, took a sip, and smiled.

“I just made it casually. I can’t compete with Mio.”

Illia blushed slightly and sat up straight on the sofa. She crossed her long legs, arms wrapped around her chest, trying to hide her overly feminine curves, and tightened her expression.

“Now, as for the reason I called you…”

Without any small talk, Illia began in a commanding tone.

“I want you to tell me how you perceived my movements just before I stalled in today’s air battle.”

Kiyoaki had suspected that question would come. What Illia had shown at that time was an unfathomable manoeuvre he had never seen before.

“I thought I had won up to the apex of your manoeuvre. Your wings were outside my sight. But then… you were suspended in mid-air for a moment.”

Illia nodded firmly.

“Yeah. I felt the same. It was as if lift and gravity had perfectly balanced out, and I was in a state of weightlessness. But even in that brief moment, I was able to control the aircraft.”

“It looked like you were spinning freely. I was leaning forward, and you seemed to be facing me while just hanging in mid-air…”

“Did it look that way? …That might be…”

Illia hesitated to speak her next words.

Kiyoaki understood the name of the manoeuvre Illia was about to mention. He also understood why she hesitated to say it.

“Karsten Turn.”

As Kiyoaki takes over the conversation, Illia shoots a piercing glance at him.

“I’ve never seen that technique either. It seems it was only possible for my father, but he would never teach it to me.”

The legendary manoeuvre that raised Illia's father, Karsten Kreischmidt, to the status of “King of the Sky.”

Its existence has been passed down orally in the St Vault Air Force, but no one has succeeded in mastering it, and it is often dismissed as a fantasy technique, much like Masaharu Sakagami’s “Snake Shot.”

Could it be that Illia’s aerial manoeuvre today was the legendary Karsten Turn?

“...The stories say that with the nose aimed at the enemy’s side, it delivers a fatal blow in one strike, but... it’s impossible. You lose your centre of gravity and can’t steer. Just like I did today, you can only stall.”

In Illia’s mind, her father Karsten is deified. The thought of grasping even a thread of his skill seems almost sacrilegious.

“If you hadn’t stalled there, I definitely would have lost.”

“Just before the stall, at that one moment when the controls shouldn’t work, there was a spot where I could steer perfectly. It felt like there was a hole in the sky where gravity was absent... If I had utilized that spot well, I could have maintained my speed while executing a minimal turn. That could allow me to circle around to the enemy’s side in one go...”

“But that’s a pretty dangerous spot, right? It’s where both stalling and disintegration could occur, right? If you had pitched up there, I think you would have disintegrated in mid-air.”

“Yeah. I could feel through the control stick that the aircraft was at its limits. But perhaps the greatest manoeuvres exist in the most dangerous places for an airman...”

Illia ponders this. Kiyoaki, too, is intrigued at the thought of mastering such a technique.

“Snake Shot” and “Karsten Turn.”

If he could master these two techniques, it would no longer be a dream to shoot down Karnasion, the super ace who killed his sister, right before Kiyoaki’s eyes.

After a long silence, Illia lifts her serious expression.

“...I want to try it. It’s worth it. I might get yelled at by the instructor, but... I want to ask for your cooperation.”

“Of course. So we just need to recreate today’s situation, right?”

“Yeah. I’ll be fleeing while you pursue me. After entering a diagonal loop, I want to try a few manoeuvres. I think the adjustment of the foot bar will be the key...”

“Sounds good. But I think while we’re doing that, you might end up losing more.”

“I don’t mind. The results of mock air combat don’t interest me. What matters more is experiencing a high-difficulty manoeuvre now. Plus, if I can master the Karsten Turn, I can catch up quickly.”

Illia states this a bit angrily. The determination on her face is cute, and Kiyoaki finds himself wanting to see more of her expressions, teasingly saying something mischievous.

“You’re asking me nicely, huh? I guess I’ll have to cooperate. But actually, I have a few things I want to try as well.”

“What’s that? Do you have complaints? I wouldn’t mind hearing your requests if you have any.”

“Really?”

“I’m saying I’d listen. Do you think I would lie? If you have something to ask, just say it, and I’ll help if I can.”

“Oh, really? Then what should I do...?”

Kiyoaki contemplates.

What does he want to ask Illia now?

──I want to see her smile.

He thinks of this immediately. Recently, Illia has been showing a variety of expressions, but he has yet to see her smile.

Even when they crossed cumulonimbus clouds in the Eriadore, or when she succeeded in a night landing, or after winning the mock air combat last year, Illia only slightly relaxed her expression but never showed a smile.

──I want to make Illia laugh.

However, just asking her to “smile” probably wouldn’t work. It wouldn’t mean anything to see a forced smile; he wants to see Illia’s true smile, one born from genuine happiness.

That’s right.

“I got my license in April and bought a used bike. I ride it when I go out, but I’ve never had anyone on the back before. I’d like to practice riding with someone on the back.”

“...Me? On the back of your bike? Just sit there?”

“Yeah. We’ll just ride around the island. Easy, right?”

Illia exhales lightly, relieved, apparently expecting a more demanding request.

“That's a cheap request. Is that all? I feel a bit guilty.”

“Oh, really? Then... come in casual clothes! I want you to wear casual clothes!”

Even on her day off, Illia walks around the island in military uniform, showing no hint of femininity for a girl her age. She must have some casual clothes that Cecil made her buy, but no one has seen her wear them.

“Casual clothes, huh... I have some, but I’ve never worn them. Cecil picked them out for me, and there’s never been an opportunity to wear them.”

“Then wear them! Casual clothes, this Sunday at ten o'clock at the parking lot, okay?”

As he urges her with enthusiasm, Illia looks slightly perplexed but nods awkwardly.

“...Alright. If that’s all it takes... I’ll go along with it.”

──A date with Illia!

Kiyoaki barely manages to restrain himself from jumping for joy, nodding back at her with a usual smile.

“Thanks! I’ll be careful not to fall. I’ve never had anyone on the back before.”

“A bike, huh... I’ve never ridden one before, but...”

Illia murmurs while looking up at the ceiling, appearing somewhat doubtful.

Two days later, on a sunny Sunday in May.

Kiyoaki waits for Illia in the parking lot, straddling his beloved bike and warming up the engine.

It’s a blue 250cc bike. He just bought it a month ago, and whenever he has free time on weekends, he rides it around the island for no particular reason.

Dressed in a long-sleeved shirt and jeans, he waits with a fluttering heart when, precisely at the promised time, Illia arrives.

“W-Wait, did I keep you waiting?”

She greets him, looking uncomfortable and turning her face away.

Surprisingly, Illia has done her makeup. Her eyelashes are standing tall, her eyes are accentuated with eyeliner, and her lips are lightly tinted with red.

Kiyoaki beams at her.

“You look great! It really suits you!”

“...Cecil did it. When I told her I was going out with you on the bike, she got all excited... and made me wear this outfit along with the makeup.”

Illia looks down with uncertainty, glancing at her appearance.

A thin white shirt that is slightly see-through. Black slim pants that cling to her legs, and short boots adorned with silver accessories. Both the shirt and pants fit Illia's body perfectly, exuding a refined elegance and a hint of allure.

“You look great! Way cooler than in military uniform!”

“...It's too constricting. The military uniform is much more comfortable.”

Though Illia seems reluctant, the way she is fully dressed up makes her look more like a fashion model than a cadet officer.

──She really is incredibly beautiful...

Kiyoaki knows this, but reaffirming the fact sends his heart racing.

Hiding his pounding heart, he hands Illia a silver half-helmet.

“Okay, please just sit on the back. It’s nice out today, so it’ll definitely feel good.”

Illia casually gathers her hair into a ponytail with a rubber band, puts on the helmet, fastens the chin strap, and mutters softly.

“I don’t know how to get on.”

Though Illia is invincible in the sky, her knowledge of life on the ground is less than that of an average person. In the back seat of the bike, she just needs to hold onto the tandem grips at both sides of the seat. But that would be such a waste of a rare opportunity.

“Tandem riding can be dangerous if we don’t move as one. If you move strangely, we might lose our balance and fall. So, while we’re riding, try to stick as close to me as possible.”

He requests this with utmost seriousness.

This isn’t a lie. There are ways to hold onto the grips, but he simply hasn’t explained them. Justifying to himself internally while looking at Illia, she awkwardly nods.

“Okay, so I just need to stick close to you.”

“Yeah. The faster we go, the closer you can stay, the better.”

There’s no real necessity for this, but at least it’s not a lie.

“Got it. I’ll do my best. I hardly ever ride anything other than airships...”

Illia always studies on her days off, so she rarely goes out to have fun. Like a student who humbly seeks guidance from a teacher, she accepts his straightforward request with a sincerity that feels almost pure.

“Ready?”

“Yeah.”

Illia straddles the back seat with her long legs, awkwardly grasping the hem of Kiyoaki’s shirt.

“Is this okay?”

“Yeah, that’s about right.”

This is Kiyoaki's first time actually carrying someone on the back. He resolves to avoid any accidents as he steps on the gear pedal.

The engine’s roar is quite mild compared to an airship. Illia silently holds the hem of Kiyoaki’s shirt tightly.

They start off slowly, merging onto the public road. The roads on Air Hunt Island are remarkably quiet, with only occasional military vehicles passing by.

With each gear shift, the wind picks up. Illia grips the hem of his shirt even tighter.

Turning his head back, he asks, “The wind feels nice, right?”

“Yeah.”

In the cockpit of an airship, this wind cannot be felt.

“I’m going to speed up. Hold on tight!”

“Okay!”

As he kicks the pedal and shifts to fifth gear, Illia’s arms wrap around Kiyoaki’s waist.

Illia’s warmth and softness radiate against his back. Like a child obeying orders, Illia clings tightly to him.

His heart races. Looking back again, he asks, “Are you scared?”

“Nope.”

Though she puts on a brave face, her voice is a bit tense. The road signs whizzing by in an instant, the large vehicles that suddenly appear from around bends, the body tilting dramatically with each curve—everything is a unique experience of being on the ground.

As they ride, Illia grips him tighter. It feels like her heartbeat syncs with his through his back. He can even discern the differences between her firm and soft areas.

──Illia...

The faster he goes, the closer she feels. The warmth, softness, and breath he feels from her stir his emotions.

“Illia.”

That emotion becomes a call of her name.

“Yeah?”

Illia responds softly, still firmly attached to him.

“Are you scared?”

He throws out the same question like a child.

“I’m not scared.”

Despite her words, her hands around his waist tighten.

──Please let today not end...

Holding onto such a childish wish, he makes a full loop around the island and stops at the Cross Cape.

“Great job! Let’s take a break.”

As he smiles at her, Illia dismounts and removes her helmet. Her cheeks are slightly flushed as she says,

“I don’t really understand how to maintain balance.”

“You were completely fine. Thanks to you, I’ve gotten the hang of it.”

“Really? I’m glad to be of help then.”

Illia nods with a serious expression before hesitating, as if she’s gathering her courage.

“Isn’t it a bit improper to ride like that? I mean, being so close…”

“No, not at all! That’s the safest way!”

Kiyoaki is surprised by how much strength he puts into his words.

“...Is that so? Well, if it doesn’t bother you, then I don’t mind…”

Illia trails off, her gaze turning to the ocean.

This is one of the tourist spots on Air Hunt Island. From the edge of the cape, which rises about thirty meters above the sea, they can look down at the vast ocean and the distant Air Hunt Port. Below, the rocks form a diamond shape, with the seawater that seeps into the narrow gaps creating a cross shape, giving the Cross Cape its name.

A dozen or so tourists are throwing something toward the cross. Illia watches their figures with a suspicious look. Kiyoaki smiles and says,

“They say if you throw a pesos coin from here and it lands in the cross, your wish will come true.”

“Is that so?”

"Last year, Reiner threw something in there. He was praying for something. He was vague about what he wished for, though."

"…Reiner, huh. I see."

Illia nodded deeply for some reason and took a one-peso coin from her wallet. It seemed she was determined to give it a try.

"It's pretty difficult, you know."

"Yeah, I figured."

She aimed carefully and threw the coin.

The coin struck the rock surface.

"How many did Reiner throw?"

"He hit it on his second try. That guy is surprisingly skilful in strange ways."

Without changing her expression, Illia took out her second coin, aimed, threw, and missed again.

Biting her lip in frustration, she threw the third and fourth coins, but they also missed.

"It's tough, right? I won’t do it since it's a waste of money."

After missing the fifth coin, Illia peeked into her wallet. There were no more coins left. With a disappointed expression, she pulled out a ten-peso bill.

"Change it for me."

"You said it's a waste. Let’s just give up."

"…It’s frustrating. If Reiner can do it, why can’t I? I can’t accept that."

She seemed quite competitive even outside of airships. To calm Illia, who looked like she might stomp her feet in frustration, I gazed out over the sea and stretched my arms overhead.

"It feels nice. Sometimes this kind of thing is good, right? Studying is important, but you also need a change of pace."

Illia looked in the same direction as me, closed her eyes, and breathed in the salty sea breeze.

"Yeah. The wind feels nice. It makes me feel relaxed..."

As she spoke, her tone and expression were softer than usual. Her red hair, swaying in the wind, vividly contrasted with the colours of the sky and sea.

Suddenly, Illia squinted at a corner of the sky. Her tone turned serious again.

"A Flag Ship… It’s a ship type I’ve never seen before."

In the distance, to the southeast, there were silhouettes of an airship fleet. Two large airships formed the centre of a spherical formation, cruising offshore from Air Hunt Port. Judging by the shape of the upper deck, they appeared to be aircraft carriers rather than battleships.

"Last time, there was a new type of battleship here too. This place has completely turned into a fleet relay base."

"Yeah. It seems the navy has been preparing for the southern archipelago conquest for a while now. A lot of new ships with landing gear equipment have arrived..."

Illia was fascinated, unable to take her eyes off the air carrier. In the distant sky, she stared intently at the movements of the carrier-based aircraft taking off from the upper deck.

"I want to see them land. I hope they land soon..."

Although the atmosphere had been pleasant, Illia’s focus was completely consumed by the airships. They stood there for about an hour, witnessing everything from the launching to the landing of the carrier’s aircraft, and Illia nodded in satisfaction.

"I learned a lot. This is a view you can’t see if you don’t leave the school."

"We’ll be doing offshore landing training in the summer too, right? Even just watching was a good preview."

"Yeah. It’s a training that can result in casualties. I wanted to gather as much information as possible beforehand."

In three months, in August, the fourth-year students would embark on a long ocean voyage for carrier landing training. The most challenging aspect of piloting airships is landing on an aircraft carrier. To land on the narrow and short deck while other colleagues wait in the air requires considerable skill.

But right now, I wanted to forget about those tense discussions.

More than anything, I wanted to see Illia as a teenage girl.

"Shall we head back soon? I want to try climbing the mountain path next."

"Hm? Oh, right. We were training for two people."

"There’s a diner at the top of the mountain. Let’s grab something to eat."

"Dining out, huh? That sounds nice for a change."

“Since it's a mountain road, hold on tight so you don’t get thrown off.”

“Got it. I’ll do my best.”

Illia readjusted her helmet and straddled the back seat again.

Kiyoaki emerged onto a rural public road. Until now, he had been traveling along well-maintained coastal highways circling Air Hunt Island, but now he entered a mountain road in the island's central region. The path was narrow and winding, with the surface bare earth and uneven.

The mountains were filled with greenery and sunlight.

The breath of the trees dyed both sides of the road in vibrant green, and the branches overhead intertwined as if traveling through an emerald tunnel. Sunlight filtered through the green canopy, sparkling like powdery snow as it poured down onto Kiyoaki and Illia.

As they dashed through the pale green layers, the scent of earth and fresh foliage filled their chests to the brim. It felt as if the mountain were smiling down at them, a landscape only seen from the ground, not from the sky.

“It feels great!”

“Yeah.”

Illia's response was livelier than usual.

With the light-dappled road ahead, Kiyoaki pressed the accelerator.

The poor road condition caused violent vibrations. At times, the vehicle even lifted off the ground. Each time, Illia's slender hands gripped tightly. The traffic was nearly non-existent, with no oncoming cars, as if they were swimming alone in a sea of green.

Suddenly, the left mountainside dropped away, revealing a view of the sea. Before they knew it, they had exceeded an altitude of one thousand meters, and the vast ocean sparkled below them, reflecting the sunlight.

“Wow, it’s beautiful.”

Illia exclaimed in awe. Although she should be used to views from this height, the scenery while rushing along the ground felt different.

“Yahhooo!”

When Kiyoaki shouted toward the sea, Illia didn’t shout along but leaned her cheek against his back. She gazed at the ocean like a child hugging her favourite pillow and engrossed in a picture book.

Illia trusted Kiyoaki's driving, surrendering her body to him. Just that filled Kiyoaki with happiness, saturating his entire being with new energy.

──Illia, how cute... Why is she so adorable?

He reflected on this deeply. Though she seemed tough and quiet, beneath that mask lay an innocent, almost naive girl.

──If only we could keep driving like this forever...

As another childish desire arose, his stomach growled. It was already past one in the afternoon. Ahead, he spotted a diner he often visited, and he reluctantly began to slow down.

“Here. The cheeseburgers are delicious.”

“Really?”

The large store, resembling a log cabin, had no customers inside, making it just for the two of them. He ordered two cheeseburgers, two sodas, and a potato salad from the familiar female owner and settled into a window-side seat.

The view from the window opened up to the sight of the mountains leading to the sea. Under the May sunlight, the fluffy clouds, ocean, and mountains created a vibrant contrast of white, blue, and green that lifted his spirits.

“It’s calming. What a nice view.”

Illia, sitting across the wooden table, gazed softly out the window. He sensed that she might smile with just a little more encouragement, but that smile didn’t seem likely to come easily. Searching for a topic that would please her, all he could think of were aircraft stories.

After talking about the aviation department for a while, the owner placed a basket on the table. Illia looked puzzled.

“It’s pretty big. I don’t think I can finish it.”

The cheeseburger, as rumoured, came wrapped in partially opened paper. It was stuffed with lettuce, onion, rich cheese, and a thick hamburger patty, standing nearly fifteen centimetres tall—definitely too large for a girl to bite into all at once.

“You squeeze it with the wrapper to make it smaller and eat it. Don’t worry about manners; just open wide and eat.”

To demonstrate, Kiyoaki took the hamburger with both hands, pressed it down with the wrapper to make it more manageable, opened his mouth wide, and took a big bite of the top bun and ingredients.

He chewed; cheeks puffed out like a squirrel. The juice from the freshly cooked hamburger mixed with the gooey cheese, and the crispness of the lettuce and the refreshing onion added to the experience, making a smile involuntarily rise on his face. The contrast of flavours from all the ingredients, including the bun, was nothing short of an artwork.

Watching this, Illia awkwardly lifted her own hamburger. She stared at it with an expression of curiosity, like observing a rare creature, and then squeezed it from both sides. Looking up at Kiyoaki with uncertainty, she opened her mouth and attacked the upper bun.

“Brrt.”

With a strange noise, lettuce, onion, and rich cheese spilled out from the bun. A half-hearted opening caused this mishap.

“Mmm.”

Issuing another odd groan, Illia's eyes darted around as she pulled her face away from the burger. She chewed awkwardly, with cheese stuck to the tip of her nose. Kiyoaki struggled to hold back laughter while observing her. After she finally managed to swallow, her eyes widened.

“It’s delicious!”

She exclaimed in surprise, gazing at the nearly crumbled burger.

“It’s hard to eat, but it’s really good.”

“Glad to hear it. How you eat it doesn’t matter, as long as it tastes good to you.”

“Really? It’s difficult. The filling keeps spilling out.”

Perhaps she was just very hungry; with cheese still on her nose, Illia continued to approach the burger while mumbling. Relieved that she seemed to enjoy it, Kiyoaki also dove back into his meal.

“I finished it all!”

Holding up the empty wrapping, Illia looked astonished at her own feat. Cheese still clung to the tip of her nose.

“Good. I thought you wouldn’t eat something like this.”

“This is my first cheeseburger. But it’s really good. I think I can eat it a bit better next time.”

“Yeah. Let’s come again. And here.”

He handed her a tissue, but Illia looked puzzled. When Kiyoaki laughed and poked his own nose with his finger, she squinted at him before applying the tissue.

“Oh…”

She stared at the cheese stuck to the tissue, bewildered. Then, with a hint of embarrassment, she furrowed her brows.

“…Was it there the whole time?”

“It seems to have gotten there on the first bite.”

“…How mean. You should have told me right away.”

After wiping around her mouth with another tissue, Illia shot him a light glare.

“Were you watching and laughing?”

“I wasn’t laughing. I thought it would be fine to wait until you finished eating.”

“That’s a lie. You were definitely laughing.”

“I really wasn’t.”

He laughed as he denied it, but Illia, feeling a bit embarrassed, wiped her nose with the tissue again.

“You’re a liar. You look harmless like a rabbit at first glance, but you’re actually mean. A black rabbit.”

Saying that, she broke into a shy smile.

──She smiled…!

Though it wasn’t a full-blown grin, it was a face he had never seen before. While mentally doing a victory pose, Kiyoaki served up some potato salad.

“A black rabbit? Is that my nickname? I like it. It’s cute.”

“It sounds like a villain from a fairy tale. It suits you perfectly.”

“Hehe. Since you gave me that nickname, I’ll cherish it. So, can you still eat?”

“Yeah. I can eat slowly.”

Illia gazed down at the served potato salad with sparkling eyes, like a child. Perhaps because she had only eaten in the student cafeteria at the Air Hunt Academy since enrollment, this meal felt new to her.

As she washed down the salad with soda, Kiyoaki relaxed and talked about trivial things.

“Riding a bike is nice sometimes, right? The scenery flows by, and the wind feels good. It’s a different kind of enjoyment from flying.”

Illia poked at the potatoes with her fork.

“Yeah. Since there are objects on the ground, the sensation of speed feels faster than in an aircraft. The bumps and curves in the road are also things you don’t find in the air, and you probably need to maintain focus while cruising.”

Kiyoaki decided to test the waters.

“Do you want to try drive one for yourself?”

A new light shone in Illia’s eyes.

“Just a little.”

Hearing the roar of the internal combustion engine must have made her want to try riding. Kiyoaki sensed a certain anticipation in her demeanour, as if she had been waiting for him to say that.

“I practiced with Reiner at first. I was able to ride in about an hour. You can practice in the parking lot over there, do you want to give it a try?”

“…Is that okay?”

“Of course. It’s fine. Hey, Miss, can we practice riding bikes in the parking lot?”

When Kiyoaki asked, the kind owner smiled brightly.

“Use it as you like. There’s no one here, so it’s fine. I’d be honoured if a future ace pilot used it.”

Since last year’s mock air battle, Kiyoaki and Illia had become celebrities on Air Hunt Island. The owner seemed to recognize Illia from a newspaper or something.

“Thank you! Come on, Illia, we can use it!”

Illia glanced at Kiyoaki and relaxed her cheek tension just a bit.

“Well then, just a little.”

“Yeah, yeah! If it’s Illia, you’ll be able to ride it in no time. It’s easy compared to an airship!”

“We won’t be going on public roads. Just a bit of practice in that parking lot over there.”

Saying this, Illia quickly finished the remaining salad and gulped down her soda.

“Thanks for the meal! Now, let me use it for a bit.”

“Sure! Come back again!”

After splitting the lunch bill and thanking the owner, they headed to the diner’s parking lot. The spacious lot could accommodate thirty cars, but only the owner’s vehicle was parked there.

“Alright, get on. We’ll start from turning on the engine.”

“Okay.”

Illia obediently got on and learned how to operate the bike from Kiyoaki, starting the engine.

“The gear is the pedal, and the throttle is on the right grip, right?”

“Wait, you know that?”

“I was watching you ride. I wasn’t just admiring the scenery.”

“Impressive. Do you understand the clutch?”

“It’s either the right or left lever... it’s the left. The right one is the brake.”

“Maybe you won’t need much practice. Stepping on the pedal puts it in first gear, and lifting your toe changes the gear up.”

“Got it. I want to get a feel for the engine output first.”

With a firm voice, Illia removed the centre stand, engaged the clutch, and started moving in first gear.

“Whoa, whoa!”

She let out a cheerful voice as she wobbled and started moving. It was only natural she couldn’t ride smoothly right away, and she seemed a bit unsteady.

“Go for it, Illia!”

I waved my hand encouragingly from behind her.

“Don’t mock me!”

Without even looking back, Illia shot back while unsteadily navigating. It seemed she was embarrassed to have her lack of skill on display. However, since she was used to piloting an airship, her riding gradually became smoother.

“Gear change!”

I announced loudly, and Illia shifted to second gear. Suddenly, the bike jolted, but she adjusted the throttle and stabilized it.

“Great, great!”

As Kiyoaki clapped, Illia zoomed around the parking lot, shouting, “Gear change!” as if communicating with a mechanic. I wasn’t sure, but it might have been a way to hide her embarrassment. This time, she accelerated without jolting and began to execute beautiful circular manoeuvres proudly.

“How about that!”

Like a cowboy who just tamed a wild horse, Illia looked at Kiyoaki with a vibrant expression.

“You're amazing, Illia! So cool!”

When I praised her, her face brightened. It wasn’t a full smile, but it was the happiest I had ever seen her.

“I’ve got the hang of it! I understand the basics now!”

After going around the lot about five times, she slowed down and stopped next to Kiyoaki, her eyes sparkling with joy. Once she grasped the changes in engine output with gear shifts, it wouldn’t be too hard for Illia.

“Yeah, at this rate, if you ride for another hour, you’ll have it completely down. You really are incredible; you might get your license in no time.”

“A bike license, huh... I’m starting to want one. Can I ride a bit more?”

“Of course! Ride as much as you want until you’re satisfied.”

“Thank you! It’s fun once you get the hang of it. I’m getting greedy.”

Her eyes sparkled as she looked out at the scenery. Kiyoaki had a hunch about what Illia would do an hour later.

“Let’s speed up!”

An hour later, while speeding down the public road at eighty kilometres per hour, Illia shouted to Kiyoaki in the back seat.

“Um, maybe it’s better to follow the speed limit...”

“Hold on tight! I’m getting the hang of cornering!”

Trembling, Kiyoaki wrapped his arms around Illia’s waist. He felt happy being so close to her, but at the same time, there was fear.

The gear shifted up. The engine roared. The trees blurred into lines and soon became a green curtain.

Ahead, a large curve approached.

The bike tilted significantly. A strong centrifugal force pressed him against the opposite side.

Illia scraped her left knee against the ground as she navigated through the curve.

“Haha! How about that? Not bad, right?!”

She laughed triumphantly. Kiyoaki resigned himself to fate, clinging tightly so as not to hinder Illia’s driving.

Normally, being this close would confuse or anger Illia, but it didn’t seem to bother her now. It appeared that like Kiyoaki, she transformed when gripping the handlebars.

She skilfully maneuverer through the difficult series of hairpin turns, smoothly accelerating down the slope.

Soon...

“The sea!”

Illia exclaimed with joy. They had reached the coastal road after descending the narrow mountain path.

Suddenly, the horizon opened up in a brilliant blue, the lanes widened, and the sun poured down in a straight line. The sense of liberation pushed her to open the throttle even more.

At double the legal speed, Illia sped along the coastal road. If they were caught, it could mean expulsion. However, Kiyoaki remained silent, content to be a passenger.

“Let’s go around again!”

“Go ahead.”

After completing one lap around Air Hunt Island, Illia was still not satisfied. She made a second lap, a third lap, riding her steel steed like a knight of old, never tiring.

Eventually, they reached an observation deck near the mountain summit. The crimson sun was already painting the sea a deep red.

“Ah, that was fun! Riding on the ground is interesting too; the wind feels great!”

Illia said with satisfaction, stretching her arms up while gazing down at the sprawling Air Hunt Island. The thin shirt she wore clung to her sweat-drenched body. Kiyoaki’s hands, which had been wrapped around her waist the whole time, were also damp.

“Good job! You’re amazing; you might even be better than me now.”

“That’s not true. There are still things I haven’t completely grasped. But yeah, once I get a little more used to it, I want to race and see who’s faster.”

Turning to Kiyoaki, Illia said this.

“I don’t want to race. I’d rather ride slowly together.”

When Kiyoaki proposed this, Illia momentarily wore a distant expression.

“Is that so? That sounds like you. Racing would be more exciting.”

Then she smiled.

“But that could be nice too. A leisurely ride together on a day off. That doesn’t sound bad.”

It was the first time Kiyoaki saw Illia smile.

The innocent girl’s smile had been hidden beneath the iron mask she wore every day.

If he took three steps forward, extended his arms, and hugged Illia as he had done from the back seat of the bike, how would she react?

Such thoughts surged strongly, breaking free from reason.

“Hmm? What’s wrong?”

Illia smiled, tilting her head slightly.

“N-No, it’s nothing.”

Coming back to himself, Kiyoaki hurriedly denied it. Illia laughed mischievously.

“You had a funny face. You make interesting expressions.”

“R-Really? I didn’t notice.”

“If there was a mirror, I’d show you. You had a spaced-out look.”

Illia turned away again, holding her hair against the wind as she looked down at the fading Air Hunt Island.

He called out to her back.

“Hey, Illia.”

“Yeah?”

"Can I invite you again?"

Illia looked back at me once more, her expression a bit stiff.

But…

"Sure."

She smiled innocently.

"I want to eat a cheeseburger again. And I want to run on the beach. In the summer, the wind will feel even better. I'm looking forward to it."

Against the backdrop of the sunset, Illia's smile pierced deep into Kiyoaki's heart, more precisely than ever before, like an arrow that could never be pulled out again.

From the centre that was pierced, ripples spread out, coursing through Kiyoaki's insides. Everything that had been submerged until now was washed away, as something new began to fill the surface of his heart.

—I want to make Illia mine.

—Mine alone.

His heart whispered that against its will. Unless that desire was fulfilled, the heart that had been pierced would continue to bleed. While watching the fading sunset and Illia, Kiyoaki felt that instinctively.

When they returned to the parking lot of the Air Hunt Officer Academy, the sun had already set, and the gas lamps on the campus were lit. He turned off the engine and removed his helmet.

"Thank you for today; I really had fun."

"Me too. It was such a nice distraction. I haven't had this much fun in a while."

Illia, looking soft and gentle, seemed like a different person from before. It felt a bit wasteful to part ways like this, so Kiyoaki searched for words, glancing into the empty space, when he suddenly felt something was off.

"Huh…?"

He thought he saw someone beyond the parking lot's fence, in the trees, looking this way. But straining his eyes into the dark, he saw no one.

"What’s wrong?"

"Oh, it's nothing…"

He brushed it off and turned back to Illia, smiling. It was probably just his imagination.

"…Well then… goodnight. Let's go again next time."

"Yeah. Goodnight. I broke a good sweat; I think I’ll sleep well tonight."

They waved lightly to each other before parting ways.

As Illia walked alone towards the girls' dorm, she savoured the events of the day, slowly chewing over them.

Embarrassment, happiness, warmth, and shyness swirled inside her, and for some reason, it transformed into warmth, making her steps light. This was her first experience like this. Her heart's workings, which didn't go as she wished, were frustrating yet oddly pleasant.

She could still feel Kiyoaki's hands on her stomach and back.

Under normal circumstances, she would have felt repulsion at being that close to a man, but today, she didn’t feel even the slightest bit of that. Rather, a part of her even wished for it to happen more strongly. It was a shameful and indecent thought, yet she was also surprised at herself for feeling this way.

"Sakagami."

Walking, she whispered his name to herself.

"Kiyoaki."

Calling his first name, she indulged in the pleasure of it. If someone saw her, they might think she was suspicious, but the campus was dark and empty.

"Black Rabbit."

She murmured the nickname she had just given him. It seemed harmless and meek, yet sometimes a bit wicked—a fitting nickname for Kiyoaki. Just as she was pleased with that thought, a lightning bolt flashed through her mind.

"?!"

Startled, she stopped walking.

—Black Rabbit.

Somewhere, she felt she had seen that before. Someone had that kind of nose art.

"…Ah."

She remembered. During the single enemy air raid on the Eriadore airship, she had seen a strangely realistic dream while on Cameron Island.

Illia was flying in a future fighter jet above a burning city. At that moment, the nose art of the enemy plane she shot down while crying was a black rabbit.

Could that black rabbit be…?

"…Ridiculous…"

She shook off the thought, snapping back to reality. It was just an event in a dream. Although it had left a strong impression due to its strange realism, dreams could not become reality.

Kiyoaki was her friend. The Akitsu Federation and the St Vault Empire had formed a military alliance and were cooperating to launch an attack on Hydrabard. There was no longer any benefit to fighting each other.

"It’s impossible, silly…"

Muttering to herself, Illia resumed walking. While she felt happy, there was also a vague sense of foreboding simmering within her.

In the shadows of the trees near the parking lot, Mio crouched down.

The parking lot was now empty, with only Kiyoaki's bike parked there.

Night was coming soon. She needed to return to the girls' dorm. But for now, she couldn't seem to move from here. She needed to calm the storm of emotions swirling within her before going back.

Earlier, when she happened to pass by, she saw a two-person bike enter the parking lot. The moment she realized it was Kiyoaki and Illia, she reflexively hid in the shadows of the trees.

It was pathetic, but she couldn’t help but secretly peek at the two of them from behind the tree trunk.

Even from a distance, it was clear they looked intimate.

She could tell that Illia had opened her heart to Kiyoaki from her expression.

Seeing the two of them illuminated by the gas lamp's light, Mio's heart shattered.
[[File:IlliaCasual.png|thumb]]
She instinctively crouched down, unable to take her eyes off them.

The two of them exchanged words happily and waved goodbye before parting ways.

Illia walked away in casual clothes she would never normally wear, looking happy, with a light and bouncy step.

They must have gone on a date on the bike. It was obvious from their intimate demeanour that they had a great time.

Kiyoaki and Illia.

Both had fathers who were shot down in battle, tied together by fate. They had been featured countless times in the media, both possessing exceptional talent as airship pilots, and they honed their skills every day through duels.

Because they bore the same burdens, they surely understood each other better than anyone else. As time passed, they would grow closer.

Inside her stomach, chest, and head, a dark, hot, heavy sensation filled her. It felt painfully burning as if every cell in her body was going to be scorched.

She understood that the source of the pain was jealousy.

She knew she had no right to be jealous anymore.

Mio, still crouching, tried to convince herself.

—Illia deserves Kiyoaki far more than I do.

—Much more than the traitor that I am.

—Illia is much more suited for Kiyoaki.

She tried to reason with herself, but countless painful arrows continued to ricochet inside her body. She genuinely worried that a pool of blood might form at her feet. The pain was that intense.

Her heart was beyond her control.

"Ugh…"

She couldn’t hold back and groaned. Even after the two figures disappeared from the parking lot, Mio remained crouched, enduring the pain.

Tears rolled down her cheeks.

She couldn’t stop them. She wiped the tears away with her arm while still crouched.

It was only natural that she had avoided Kiyoaki for nearly half a year. And yet, crying out of jealousy for Illia's relationship felt pathetic.

But…

—It’s fine. No one is watching.

—Just for now, it’s okay to cry like this.

She vowed she would never cry like this again, yet at this moment, she wanted to allow herself that weakness. It was a pitiful, embarrassing way to cry, and if anyone saw her, they would surely laugh. But unless she turned that pain into tears, it felt like she would die from the hurt.

"Ugh… ugh…"

Like a child, Mio sobbed. Water poured from her face. The handkerchief she used to wipe her face became so wet that it dripped when she squeezed it.

This was the last time, she firmly vowed in her heart that she wouldn’t cry again, as she tried to wash away all her overwhelming emotions with tears.

Suddenly, the scene of the canola flower field on Messus Island resurfaced in her memory.

"I’m Kiyoaki’s bride!"

Wearing a tiara made of canola flowers, she had declared it in the summer, feeling like a princess.

"Yeah, I’ll become a pilot and marry Mio."

Forced words from Kiyoaki.

“Don’t cheat on me! We promised we’d get married!”

There was nothing to fear during that summer when I was twelve. I believed without a doubt that I would someday marry Kiyoaki, unaware of what awaited me ahead.

── I can’t go back now.

I chose family over comrades, weighing them in a balance, and I don’t think I made the wrong choice.

I had no choice but to pick one, and I chose that one.

I couldn’t abandon my stepfather, ensnared in interests, nor could I leave behind my brothers and sisters who became spies to protect each other. I didn’t want to see Dominic, Kazuki, and Bonita suffer like this.

So surely, this is for the best.

Even with a stepfather like that, if he hadn’t taken me in, I would have died in a detention camp. He is the one who gave me a life.

── This is the natural consequence.

From now on, Kiyoaki and Illia will walk the path toward glory as the future kings of aerial combat.

A bright and hopeful, radiant future awaits.

In contrast, the path I walk is one of betrayal, mired in deception and trickery.

If that’s the case, at least.

── I don’t want to be hated by Kiyoaki.

── So I’ll just disappear like this…

I want to remain, if only as a faint memory in the corner of Kiyoaki’s heart. To do that, I have to slowly fade away from before him.

Not in an unnatural way, but gradually, letting time take its course.

Eventually, I’ll be downgraded from being a comrade to a classmate, then to an acquaintance, and eventually become like a stranger passing by… Until I’m buried among the many people Kiyoaki will meet in the future, so that he won’t even remember me unless he consciously tries.

── That’s how I will disappear.

Telling myself that, Mio curled up and continued to cry. She thought it would be nice if her body, heart, and all past memories could dissolve into tears and be absorbed by the ground.

Toaru Hikuushi e no Seiyaku:V3Part2

2025-12-01T02:41:53Z

QCore:

Part 19 (Part 2 of Volume 3)

Into the clear blue sky of March, hundreds of pure white caps were thrown up.

The cheers of the fourth-year students echoed loudly in front of the Air Hunt Officer Academy auditorium.

Embracing and laughing with the friends they had shared four years of hardship with, they exchanged smiles and shared the emotions of completing their training as officer candidates.

These four hundred and fifty students graduated from the Air Hunt Officer Academy today, being promoted to second lieutenant candidates in the St Vault Air Navy. Starting tomorrow, they would head to their assigned posts, undergo a year of training, and ultimately dedicate themselves as second lieutenants for their country.

The plaza was filled with the smiles of the graduates. Clad in brand new white naval uniforms, they formed circles here and there, bidding farewell to friends as they prepared to take off to their respective battlefields.

Soon, underclassmen also joined the fourth-year circle.

Amid laughter, tears mixed in here and there. It was a scene of graduation no different from an ordinary school, but the fact that all of them would soon undertake life-or-death missions on the battlefield made this moment irreplaceable. Some of these students would undoubtedly lose their lives in the tumultuous seas. The possibility of everyone gathering again without losing a single person was impossible.

Yet, even so, the fourth-year student, Kagura Murasaki, maintained her usual nonchalant demeanour.

"This isn’t a goodbye for this life. No need for a grand send-off."

With a refreshing smile, she cast her gaze around at the mix of joy and sentiment.

"I also got into the St Vault military. Once I'm on a mission, I’ll write you a letter, Kiyoaki."

Third-year student, Sakagami Kiyoaki, caught a glimpse of Kagura in his slightly misty eyes, barely managing to suppress his emotions and return her smile.

"…Yes. Thank you so much, Kagura. I look forward to your continued guidance."

Every time Kiyoaki looked at Kagura, he felt as if his lost sister were right in front of him. The smile he had thought he would never see again was now so close, wrapping him in a nostalgic warmth, pushing the grief of his loss to some distant corner.

But starting tomorrow, Kagura would embark on her journey. The loneliness was painful.

"Kagura, I’ll write to you too… I promise, absolutely…"

Next to Kiyoaki, second-year student Cecil Hauer's face was already soaked with tears as her voice trembled. Kagura smiled and opened her arms wide.

"Come here, Cecil."

Cecil let the tears flow freely from her eyes as she jumped into Kagura's embrace.

"Kagura. I love you. Kagura."

Soaking Kagura's pristine uniform with her tears, Cecil unreservedly rubbed her cheek against her. Kagura gently stroked Cecil's small back and spoke softly.

"You don’t have to cry. We’ll meet again. I’ll also work hard to become a great soldier, so you do your best too, Cecil."

"Y-yes… Yes…"

As Cecil sobbed, clinging to Kagura, she wouldn’t let go. Kagura, with a wry smile, turned to third-year student Illia Kreischmidt, who stood rigidly at attention before her.

"Thank you, Illia. I’m counting on you for the swordsmanship club. I’ll leave the teaching materials behind, so feel free to share your new swordsmanship in the Illia style."

"…Yes. I may be inexperienced, but I will do my best."

Illia received Kagura's words in a formal bow. From now on, Illia would inherit and develop the swordsmanship club Kagura had established.

"Kiyoaki also joined us. If you both hone your skills together, I believe you’ll reach even greater heights. I trust you."

"Yes. I will do my best."

Kiyoaki straightened his back and responded to Kagura's words. Due to the excessively rigorous training, the swordsmanship club was currently short-staffed, surviving only on the names of Kiyoaki, Cecil, Reiner, and Mio.

"Reiner too. Don’t skip out on practice. Moderate your weekend club activities."

Third-year student, Reiner Beck, with his usual carefree smile, directed a playful remark at Kagura.

"Man, I’m really gonna miss you, Kagura. Don’t forget to send me love letters!"

"Well, I won’t send you any love letters, but let’s meet again."

"Just so you know, I’m genuinely going to miss you. By the way, where’s Mio? Is she not coming? What a cold-hearted girl."

Reiner looked around lightly, but Kiyoaki and Kagura's expressions darkened.

"She’s not here…"

Kiyoaki cast his gaze into the crowd, but he couldn’t spot third-year student Mio Syira.

Since returning to the island of Crossnodal during winter break about two months ago, Mio's behaviour had dramatically changed. She had been overtly avoiding interactions with the Seven, always eating alone, and completely severing ties with her fellow students.

"There must be some significant reasons for it. I’ll try looking for her too; it would be lonely to graduate like this…"

Kagura also searched for Mio with concern, but she was nowhere to be found.

Instead, she discovered a different acquaintance.

"Balthazar… Why are you so easy to find…"

With an exasperated expression, she pointed at the fourth-year student, Balthazar Grim, who stood apart from the crowd, seemingly indifferent to the surrounding clamour.

While other fourth-year students were surrounded by friends and juniors, Balthazar stood alone with his hands stuffed in his pockets, gazing up at the sky as if to say, "Don’t make a fuss over graduation." His solitary stance was that of a genius fitting of the top of the fourth-year class, but the fact that he chose to stand in a spot where Kagura might notice revealed his true nature.

"If I leave him be, will he cry?"

At Kagura's teasing words, Kiyoaki chuckled wryly and rushed over to Balthazar.

"Captain, congratulations on your graduation. Thank you for everything."

Upon greeting, Balthazar feigned surprise, as if just realizing Kiyoaki was there.

"Oh, you were here. I didn’t notice."

"They’re all over there. Captain, let’s go too."

As Kiyoaki gestured toward Kagura and the others, Balthazar snorted in disinterest.

"They're still the same bunch who love to cozy up to each other. What’s the point of making a fuss over graduation? This is just a step in our journey as soldiers."

"Yeah, that might be true, but it’s going to be hard to spend time together anymore. I need to say goodbye to Kagura."

Kiyoaki urged Balthazar while giving him a push on the back. Despite his reluctance, Balthazar walked over to Kagura, his steps unsteady.

"Thanks for everything, Balta. It’s going to be lonely not seeing your smug face anymore."

Kagura, still holding onto Cecil, greeted him. Balthazar, arms crossed, glared at Kagura.

"Looks like this is the last time I’ll see your composed face, Murasaki. Not that you seem particularly emotional about it."

"Congratulations on your assignment to the St Vault Air Force Operations Headquarters. As expected. It’s starting to seem realistic that you’ll become the Chief of Staff one day."

"You've got a few years before that, rookie. You’re the one heading to the Voltec Air Squadron, right? Just make sure you don’t stray off the promotion path."

Balthazar, the top student of the fourth year, was assigned to the St Vault Air Force Operations Headquarters. It was the highest promotion route for officer candidates, and as Kagura said, it wasn’t far-fetched to dream of one day planning operations for the entire St Vault military. Meanwhile, Kagura was also assigned as a candidate officer to the strongest fighter squadron in the St Vault Air Force, the Voltec Air Squadron. If she excelled here, it wouldn’t be impossible for her to command the entire air force in the future.

Kagura looked directly at Balthazar, a smile on her face.

"I won’t forget our vow. For a lifetime."

Balthazar, caught off guard, looked sceptical before clicking his tongue and turning away.

"How foolish. This is child’s play."

Kiyoaki, Cecil, Illia, and Reiner all remembered the "vow" Kagura mentioned.

"Even if we become enemies, we will not hate each other."

"Friendship is eternal."

This was the vow made by the seven of them right after achieving a breakthrough against the enemy on the Eriadore airship.

Despite denying it with words, Balthazar’s profile hinted that the vow was still engraved in his heart.

Then, Reiner stretched up to gaze into the distance.

"Oh, I see Mio!"

Upon hearing this, Kiyoaki also looked in the same direction, but he didn’t see a figure that resembled Mio.

"I’ll go get her!"

Reiner hopped off into the crowd. Kiyoaki tried to follow, but Reiner held him back.

"No, you stay here. It might be someone else."

Stuck in place, Kiyoaki had no choice but to wait. Finally, Cecil pulled away from Kagura, her face a mess from crying, and looked up at Balthazar.

"Captain. I’m so sorry."

"Is there a problem?"

"Thank you for treating me like a tool all this time. I’ll never forget this treatment for the rest of my life."

"Ah, keep looking forward to it even after you join the military. I’ll prioritize sending you to every front where you’ll be in charge."

"I won’t forget this. I absolutely won’t forget what you just said. In a bad way."

As Cecil wiped her tears and vented her grievances, Balthazar, on the higher steps, fired back with insults. It seemed that even after all this time, they were still at each other’s throats. At first glance, they looked like they didn’t get along, but in a way, Cecil was the one who exchanged words most comfortably with Balthazar.

Kiyoaki scanned the surroundings. He couldn’t find Reiner or Mio anywhere. Worrying about it, he shared the remaining time with Kagura and Balthazar.

On the outskirts of the square, in the shade of the tree-lined path, Mio stood alone, watching the fourth-year students off in the distance.

Her eyes, colourless and dim, were fixed on the crowd. She placed one hand on the ginkgo tree trunk, staring intently.

To avoid being noticed, Reiner crept up from behind and spoke.

"I told you; you’re being way too suspicious. Why go out of your way to make people doubt you?"

Startled, Mio straightened her back and turned around.

Reiner, scratching the back of his head, continued as if teaching a wayward student.

"Just act normally. If you’re going to deceive someone, do it boldly. Don’t pretend to be a good kid now; that’s the most annoying thing of all."

Mio’s dark eyes concealed a flicker of anger as she responded in a low voice.

"I’m not pretending to be a good kid…"

"You don’t want to do this, but you’re doing it anyway, right? That’s the vibe you’re giving off. Are you stupid? If you’re going to do it, be serious about being a spy. If you keep it up, I’ll kill you."

Mio bit her lip, lowering her voice even further.

"What’s that supposed to mean? You act all high and mighty. Unlike you, I’m just an ordinary person. There’s no way I could do something like this with normal nerves."

Reiner let out a long, exaggerated sigh, lifting his face to remove the mask of his false persona, "Reiner Beck."

The undercover agent "Hachidori" stepped closer to Mio, roughly grabbing her collar and pulling her toward him, whispering in her ear.

"That’s not an appropriate attitude."

The voice was fundamentally different from Reiner Beck's. Fear flickered across Mio’s face. Hachidori continued in a low voice, audible only to her.

"Should I tell you what your father did? Do you think Sakagami would feel if he knew Ethan was the one who facilitated the invasion of Messus Island?"

"Stop…"

Mio was clearly trembling.

Along with her fear of the young siblings, Mio is also terrified of being hated by Kiyoaki.

If she were to be hated, it would be better to slowly disappear from Kiyoaki's sight. She wants to remain in his memory as a good memory. That was Mio's final wish.

If Kiyoaki learns the truth about the invasion of Messus Island, even that tiny wish will be impossible to fulfill.

Hachidori threatens Mio, having accurately read her inner turmoil.

"If you want this to stop, throw away your suspicious attitude. Don’t make me repeat myself. If what you’ve done is discovered, it will surely hurt Sakagami, Illia, Kagura, and Cecil. Do you want to make them sad?"

"…That’s not… possible…!"

"If you think so, deceive them with your life on the line. Act as if nothing has changed. You are already a tainted human being; whether you pretend to be virtuous or play the tragic heroine, you can never return to your former pure self."

At last, Hachidori released his grip. Mio collapsed, coughing. A few drops of water welled up in her eyes, but whether they were from suffering or sadness, only she could know.

Looking down at her proud yet elegant back, Hachidori threw a cold voice.

"Do you understand, useless women?"

Without retorting, Mio remained curled up, her back trembling slightly.

"Consider this your final warning. Balthazar is already keeping a wary eye on you. If you continue to act suspiciously, I will take your future from your siblings, reveal the truth of the invasion of Messus Island to Sakagami, and inform your comrades of your true identity."

Mio could only shake her head in silence.

"Get up. Steady yourself. As long as you follow my words, your siblings can live decent lives. Sakagami and your comrades will continue to remember you as a good memory, unaware of your true nature."

For a while, Mio remained curled up, breathing harshly. Occasionally, a sob escaped her, but gradually her breathing slowed.

Hachidori silently watched her back. He could sense what was happening inside Mio through her movements.

Mio wiped her eyes with her arm several times. Then, still hunched over, she asked.

"If I listen to you, Dominic, Kazuki, and Bonita won't have to go through this, right?"

"…Yeah."

"If those words are a lie, I’ll expose your true identity to everyone, and then I’ll die."

"…Fine."

"Report what I just said to Zenon. Then… I’ll listen to you."

Mio's final pride was encapsulated in her words. By becoming a part of Hachidori's fate, she could escape from the slight humiliation of being made subservient.

"I understand."

Once Hachidori agreed, Mio finally stood up and faced him again.

In her determined emerald eyes, a sad resolve was present.

"…You’re right. I pretended to be virtuous. I can’t go back to how I was before."

Despair towards life and a resignation that had thrown everything away were conveyed through her gaze. A person who has reached this point is easy to handle, but at the same time, also fragile.

Hachidori considered the possibility of Mio taking her own life.

—It wouldn’t bother me if this woman died. In fact, it would be a relief.

—But it would be troublesome if military personnel investigated the cause.

If the intelligence agency of St Vault found out, the secrets of the Syira family could be exposed. That would be a significant blow to the Urano special operations agency. Naturally, Zenon must be concerned about that possibility as well.

—If I protect Mio, it could score me some points…

If Hachidori could train Mio and complete her as a female spy without her committing suicide, the head of the multi-island division, Zenon, would surely appreciate it. If things went well, he could be freed from the dreary job of infiltration and step into a somewhat better position.

Rising through the ranks of the Urano special operations agency, ultimately aiming for a position like chief of operations, he wanted to cure his mother’s illness and gain influence in the Urano palace. If possible, he wanted to track down the person who had caused his father’s execution and take revenge with his own hands. Infiltrating the Air Hunt Academy was the first step, and he had to gain his superior's trust efficiently to break through the first barrier.

For that, he couldn’t let Mio die.

To prevent that, he needed to make her feel no guilt.

If Mio were to commit suicide, it would likely be when her comrades had been killed or injured because of her actions. He just needed to wipe away that anxiety.

"Don’t worry. There won’t be any missions for a while. The information you leaked has already been sent to my country. My goal was to see if you could convey reliable information or check it. Your actions won’t harm St Vault at all, nor will they affect your comrades."

"……………………"

"There’s no way a novice agent would be entrusted with an important mission. The orders you receive are just a game for the chief. If you think you can influence the situation, you’re too full of yourself."

"……………………"

"If you were ever entrusted with an important task as an operative, it would be years from now. Right now is just a training period; no matter how hard you try, you can’t drag your comrades into hell."

"…I know that…"

"The only thing I can ask of you now is about the movements of the Berner family. Your father should be useful for that."

What Hachidori was referring to was Simon Berner, the heir of the Berner family, which was currently visiting this island. It is said to secretly control the Mitterland continent, and he had been visiting the Air Hunt Academy recently to look around the facilities. According to the information Hachidori had gathered, Simon was still staying on the island and likely attended this graduation ceremony as well. Why was such a prominent figure visiting this remote island after Akmed from last year?

"…I’ll ask Dad. But if Dad knows, Zenon must know too, right?"

"It doesn’t matter if he knows. What matters is that I know. …Now, we shouldn’t stay together too long; otherwise, our relationship will be suspected. I will switch personalities to Reiner Beck, but remember that we share the same memories. No matter how different our personalities are, Reiner is part of me."

The moment he said that, the coldness in Hachidori's expression melted away.

In its place spread a relaxed, carefree smile across his face.

"So, that’s it. Hachidori’s lecture is over. Don’t make me put in too much effort; it’s a hassle for me to come and go."

His tone was light and casual, as if he had switched to a different voice.

Reiner Beck. A fabricated persona created by the fundamental personality Hachidori.

Mio looked up at Reiner’s carefree smile, feeling uneasy.

"…You’re the worst. …You’re scary."

Gathering her courage, she managed to complain. Reiner laughed even more cheerfully.

"You’re the same as me. You’re worse because you’re not even self-aware. Now, let’s get back. If we keep hiding here, Hachidori will come out again."

Prompted, Mio followed Reiner with heavy steps toward the plaza. The final interactions between the graduates and students continued.

"I’m the worst too, but… I have to greet them…"

Mio muttered to herself, reminding herself.

Meanwhile, Kiyoaki was desperately trying to hold Kagura back.

"Kagura! You can't draw your sword today; you graduated safely...!"

"Ah, I know, it's fine. I won't cut him in half. I just need to trim a little of his desires."

As Kagura seemed ready to draw her sword, Kiyoaki hugged her from behind and shouted.

"What are you planning to cut!? Run away, Obando! Kagura is serious; don't get too close...!"

Fourth-year student Obando Eizumo, as always, looked at Kagura's angry face with an expression reminiscent of a large primate, one that didn't need human language to convey its feelings.

"Why are you angry? He's your fiancé. Your junior is sewing a see-through wedding dress just for you. It’s sure to look good on you since it's completely see-through!"

With a bright expression, he pressed for a wedding. Kiyoaki couldn’t even imagine what kind of wedding dress that would be, but it was certainly something unimaginably vulgar.

Kagura's temples pulsed with veins. In the mock air battle finals of March, her Arrow team had lost to Obando's Lance team. Obando had been shot down by Kiyoaki almost immediately, so he hadn’t done much, but then Illia had pressured Kiyoaki into self-destruction, resulting in a victory for the formation. Since Obando had unilaterally demanded, "If I win, marry me," he had been proposing to Kagura at every opportunity since then.

"I don't remember making such a promise!"

Kagura was about to draw her sword for real, but it seemed Obando's brain wasn’t processing her rejection at all. He approached with a carefree smile; arms wide open.

"I'm going to marry you, Murasaki!"

"Why are you getting closer!?"

Kiyoaki's shout went unheard. Just as Obando was about to step into Kagura's range, his juniors clung to his massive frame to stop him.

"Senior Obando, you’re misunderstanding!" "It's way too unbalanced between you and Murasaki!" "You should listen to the inconvenient truths!"

His admiring juniors continued to plead with tears, but Obando's advance didn’t stop. Despite being clung to by five of them, he charged toward Kagura.

It was in the midst of this chaos that Reiner and Mio arrived.

"Oh, what’s going on? Kagura, congratulations on your marriage!"

"Should I cut you too, Reiner?"

"Just kidding! Ah, yes, yes, you guys, I’ll help, so let’s wrap this up quickly."

Reiner teamed up with the juniors to surround Obando, clapping hands, stomping the ground, and whistling to create a distraction, waving a handkerchief that was red on one side and yellow on the other to draw his attention and lead him away from Kagura.

"Whoa, what’s that handkerchief? It looks red, but yellow at the same time!"

After seeing Obando chase after the handkerchief, Kagura let out a deep sigh and finally released her grip on the sword's hilt.

"You gorilla...!"

Throwing a straightforward insult at his disappearing back, Kagura finally noticed Mio and was surprised.

"Mio...! Thank goodness, I was looking for you."

Mio timidly raised her frightened eyes toward Kagura.

"...Kagura... Congratulations on your graduation... Thank you for everything..."

Bowing deeply in the Akitsu Federation style, Mio offered her farewell. Kagura placed a comforting hand on her back.

"I should be the one thanking you. You’ve taken care of everyone all this time. Please keep looking after us, Mio."

Tears immediately overflowed from Mio's eyes. She couldn’t hold them back. She bowed her head to hide her tears.

"If you ever have any trouble, please tell me anything. I’ll help as much as I can, whenever you feel like it..."

Kagura cradled Mio's head with both hands, resting her cheek against her hair as she spoke.

Kagura understood that Mio wouldn’t cry like this just because she was sad about the graduates leaving. Although she couldn’t know the root of Mio’s tears, it was clear that the difficulties she was carrying were extraordinary.

"Yes... Thank you, Kagura. Thank you..."

Mio could only manage those words, sniffling.

"Look, Balthazar too. We won’t see each other very often anymore..."

After embracing Mio as long as she wanted, Kagura urged Balthazar, who was pretending not to notice, to join them.

Balthazar, looking disinterestedly at the sky, glanced down at Mio’s tear-streaked face and coldly stated.

"I would like to inquire about the source of your tears... However, it's too troublesome. I hope it's for some personal, trivial reason."

"........................"

Mio, without replying, bowed deeply again to Balthazar.

"Captain... Thank you for everything. You saved my life... in the Eriadore..."

Unable to finish her sentence, she choked up again. During the attack on the enemy in the Eriadore airship, Captain Balthazar had ultimately agreed to a night landing to save Mio’s life, despite his objections. Though his words and demeanour were cold, he was someone who had risked his life for her.

"N-no, it wasn't for your sake. I had no choice because Murasaki and Sakagami were so noisy..."

Balthazar hurriedly denied it, his cheeks and ears slightly flushed.

Kiyoaki, Illia, and Cecil looked worriedly at the tearful Mio.

It had been the first time since the New Year that Mio had joined the group of seven.

Since returning home for winter break, she had cut off her interactions with the seven, running away whenever Kiyoaki tried to talk to her.

"Mio... Are you okay?"

Tentatively, he asked. But Mio pressed her palms against her eyes, looking down without responding.

Cecil tugged at Kiyoaki's sleeve and shook her head. If they pushed too hard for communication, Mio would likely run away again. Illia gently placed a hand on Mio's shoulder and whispered something comforting. While still hiding her expression with her hands, Mio nodded a few times to Illia’s words. It seemed like girls understood each other better.

"I chased away the gorilla! I threw the handkerchief into the canal, and he chased after it... but isn’t Mio crying too much? Her face is all distorted!"

Reiner returned, teasing the sobbing Mio. It had been a while since the "Seven of Eriadore," who had even received medals, had gathered like this.

And from now on, it would likely become even harder for the seven of them to meet face to face.

"I almost forgot; let’s take a picture together!"

Kagura handed her camera to a nearby student and forcibly pulled Balthazar’s hand. Mio was flanked by Illia and Cecil, with Kiyoaki and Reiner awkwardly fitting into the frame.

"Smile!"

At Kagura's command, everyone except Balthazar and Mio smiled for the photo.

"This will be a nice keepsake. I'll develop it later and send copies to everyone."

After thanking the student who took the photo, Kagura happily accepted the camera, capturing each expression on film as if savouring the moment.

Following the traditions of the Air Hunt Officer Academy, the graduates would gather at the pier and be seen off by their juniors before boarding ships corresponding to their assignments.

"Well, it’s about time to leave."

The graduates began to line up. An officer in the Navy Air Force uniform stood at the front, glaring sternly at those who would soon become his subordinates.

"Take care, everyone. Let’s meet again."

Kagura smiled as she bid her farewell. Balthazar, showing little interest, glanced at the juniors with one eye.

"Do your best to graduate. Once you're in the military, I’ll put you to work."

He tossed what could be interpreted as encouraging words in a dismissive manner.

"Thank you for everything. I hope to see you in the military someday."

Kiyoaki expressed his feelings in a brief farewell. As Kagura had mentioned, this wasn't a permanent goodbye. Their bonds would continue even after joining the military.

—Mio must be thinking the same.

Kiyoaki glanced at the tearful Mio.

The lively, courageous spirit she once had had completely vanished, replaced by a fragile, ephemeral expression that seemed ready to dissolve into the atmosphere.

Just her changed demeanour tore at his heart. It was painful, sorrowful, almost making him want to scream. If only he could understand the nature of her suffering, he could eliminate or destroy it, but communication itself was being rejected, making that impossible. If he tried to pry it out of her, she would probably retreat back into her shell. All he could do was watch over her quietly, like Kagura and Illia.

—I want to see the old Mio again...

Wishing for that, Kiyoaki walked alongside his classmates to the Air Hunt port to see off the graduates. Along the way, Illia and Cecil stayed close to Mio, casually chatting to help her relax.

Several military ships were anchored off the coast of Air Hunt port, waiting for the graduates.

A dozen small boats were docked at the pier, and the graduates confirmed their assignments, lining up on the boarding plank.

The brass band played a lively tune.

"Hat wave!"

At the command, the students on the pier waved their hats in unison.

As the engines of the small boats roared to life, white waves splashed up. The graduates waved their hats as they departed Air Hunt Island, where they had spent four years.

Watching the graduates drift away from the pier, an indescribable sentiment welled up within them. Every ship headed for a battlefield. Many of the graduates would likely never return to this place alive.

As the ships finished loading the graduates, a cacophony of whistles sounded. The students on the pier shouted their unsent words of farewell to the graduates.

"Kagura, captain... please come back safely... let’s meet again."

Kiyoaki prayed for the safety of the two. This wasn’t a final farewell; they would meet again somewhere, he reassured himself, waving his hat for a long time at the ship disappearing over the horizon.

"Next year, Aki and the others will be leaving like that too..."

After the ship vanished, Cecil murmured. When Kiyoaki, Reiner, Mio, and Illia graduated next year, Cecil would be left alone at the school.

"Yeah... But we still have a year left, and you never know what could happen..."

Kiyoaki consoled Cecil with those words. The war that began when St Vault joined the battle in Hydrabard was intensifying day by day. Air Hunt port was now a major rear base, with mobile fleets coming and going, cantered around airships. The battlefield was in the South Archipelago, but every time injured ships staggered back, bringing wounded soldiers wrapped in bandages to the pier, the strong scent of battle permeated the peaceful island.

"Here should be fine. The battlefield is far away, and we have radar, so we won’t be surprised. We can afford to relax for another year."

Reiner casually rested his hands on the back of his head, smiling contentedly.

"That may be true... But surprising the enemy is what ambushes are all about..."

"You worry too much. You’ll die early. Besides, if the enemy comes here, the students will just go into the air raid shelter. There’s not much to worry about."

"Yeah... that’s true..."

As they discussed this, Kiyoaki felt an ominous feeling deep in his chest. He had no basis for it, but something about the fourth-year life starting in April felt far from safe, a disturbing premonition lingering in his heart.

Beside him, Mio silently stared at the horizon. Her profile had a lifeless quality, as if she were resigning herself to the fate that awaited her beyond the sea. The lively brightness she once had was now completely absent.

Toaru Hikuushi e no Seiyaku:V2Part9

2025-11-28T02:21:18Z

QCore:

Part 17 (Part 9 of Volume 2)

As thousands of excited spectators discussed what they had just witnessed, a man walked toward a place unrelated to the mock aerial battle.

He was in his late twenties. With his hands tucked into the pockets of a black long coat, he slouched his tall, thin body and walked discreetly across the vast Air Hunt Officer School grounds, like a wild cat, until he reached the back of the Navy Memorial Hall.

The person he was supposed to meet had not yet arrived. He had been instructed to come here right after Kiyoaki’s mock aerial battle with Illia Kreischmidt, but it seemed he was too early. With no one around, the man took off his bothersome hat and gazed at the clear sky.

A pale face. Skin rough like it had been scraped with a knife. Cheeks that looked like they had been shaved down and eyes too sharp. Just standing there, a strange aura emanated from him.

The Holy Knight Akmed.

He was the modern “King of the Skies,” boasting a confirmed record of 186 enemy aircraft shot down.

If someone were to spot the number one aviator of the Multi-Island Sea in such a place, it wouldn’t end well. A crowd would quickly gather, causing a big commotion. It seemed his appointment was chosen in this inconspicuous spot out of fear of such attention.

Akmed looked up at the clear sky and pondered the recent mock aerial battle.

—Kiyoaki is getting stronger. So is Illia.

Though still rough around the edges, they had both reached a level of skill that was impressive for students. It was clear to him, having trained Kiyoaki over five years ago, that this progress was significant. The talent passed down from Sakagami Masaharu, coupled with their continuous effort, was yielding results. Even the last challenge of the “Snake Shot” seemed to hint that it might be accomplished someday.

—I want them in Valkyrie.

Akmed found himself thinking such things. While there’s no guarantee for the future compared to the regular army, and being constantly sent to the front lines doubles the risk to one’s life, Valkyrie was filled with true warriors of the sky who would gladly accept such conditions. Being able to train among them would bring more benefits than joining the regular army.

Just as he considered this, he scoffed lightly, shaking off the daydream.

—It’s this kind of thinking that makes me disliked by the heir.

He knew he was being self-centred. It was clear that joining the regular army and aiming for a high-ranking position in Akitsu would be more beneficial for Kiyoaki’s future.

—Similarly, for the heir...

The heir was still young. she probably had many choices for her future and was in a state of confusion. She was likely troubled by being the first in line for the Sylvanian royal family. He had heard as much from her guardians.

But still...

The faces of the king, queen, and many comrades who had died protecting the royal family clung to the back of Akmed’s mind.

Having been attacked by Urano, Valkyrie, led by Akmed, had been unable to protect Sylvania’s royal family, leading to its destruction. He had never forgotten the king’s wish as he lay dying while holding Akmed’s hand.

“Please, Akmed. Take the child and escape.”

Akmed, who had wanted to die alongside the king, had received that request in his final moments.

“Leave behind the blood of Sylvania. It will become the hope of the Multi-Island Sea. A beacon of hope to one day destroy Urano.”

He cut through the desire to stay close and accepted the king's final order. He took the heir on the back seat, broke through the encirclement of Urano surrounding the capital, Sierra Greed, and delivered her safely to his aunt waiting on Chandler Fortress on Mauregan Island. Five and a half years had passed since then, and now he was here to meet the grown heir.

The purpose was to confirm the heir's intentions for succession.

Valkyrie continued to exist as an aerial mercenary force, still fighting in various parts of the world for the restoration of the Sylvania royal family. But if the heir did not wish for that restoration, it would make exposing his comrades to danger meaningless.

—She must want the restoration of the royal family.

That was not merely Akmed’s personal desire. It was the wish of the many comrades who had died defending the king and the old officials. It was unfortunate for the heir, but she needed to consider that weight once more. He had brought words written to express this. By reiterating the king’s wishes here today, he hoped to guide the heir toward a better direction. He believed in that.

—She’s late.

As his anxiety began to rise, a shadow appeared behind the history museum.

He could not be mistaken. It was the royal heir.

Akmed looked at the person and immediately knelt down. He had been asked in advance not to kneel, but he couldn’t help it.

The heir, who had been a fragile child five and a half years ago, had grown into such a remarkable figure.

Tears threatened to spill.

As the King of the Multi-Island Sea Skies, who had become the object of admiration for all aviators, Akmed pressed his forehead to the ground in front of this person.

“I asked you to stop,” came the cold voice of the heir from above. However, Akmed remained on his knees, unmoving.

“Raise your face. I am in disguise. What would happen if someone saw us?”

Reluctantly chastised, Akmed lifted his face while still kneeling.

The heir glared at him as if reproaching him.

Unable to contain the swell of emotions, Akmed spoke the name of his lord.

“Your Highness Cecil.”

The heir to the Sylvanian throne, Elisabeth Cecil Sylvania, stood with her arms crossed in front of her chest, staring at Akmed.

“You have grown splendidly. The King would surely be pleased.”

In a sincere tone, while admiring the figure of the one he should serve, Akmed conveyed his thoughts.

Though remnants of childhood remained, the strong gaze and stubbornly set mouth resembled the King. The colour of her hair and the shape of her nose and ears were inherited from the Queen. He had worried about what would become of her when she expressed a desire to advance to military school, inspired by her friend Illia Kreischmidt at the gymnasium, but the training at the military academy had undoubtedly had a positive impact on the princess. The girl who had appeared frail when rescued had become dignified and strong.

Akmed could see it.

One day, she would unfurl the royal flag and proclaim her dominion over the Multi-Island Sea as Queen Elisabeth.

She would be the Holy Scepter of the Queen of Hope, transforming this world filled with blood and betrayal.

“The wings shall forever belong to the Sylvanian royal family.”

Akmed repeated the vow he had exchanged with the deceased king.

The Valkyrie continued to spill blood across battlefields worldwide, simply to honour Cecil as their Queen.

“The Valkyrie is your wings, Your Highness Cecil.”

For the day of resurrection that would come, Akmed and the Valkyrie existed solely to be her wings. They would travel across the skies of the world, honing their skills, and one day, they would rule the skies pointed out by Cecil—this was the very purpose of the world’s strongest combat squadron, the Valkyrie.

When I opened my eyes, I saw a pure white ceiling.

A faint smell of chemicals stung my nostrils. Bringing my arm in front of my face, I noticed I was wearing a white hospital gown, and there was a bandage wrapped around my forehead.

“……?”

Kiyoaki sat up halfway. I was in a bed in the infirmary. A soft reddish light was filtering in from the window, reaching the middle of the hospital room.

I tried to recall the events of the day. Kagura had fallen, Reiner had fallen, I had a one-on-one duel with Illia, and the fight had somehow turned into a dance. Then I attempted the Snake Shot—and I had no memory of what happened afterward. Given my current state, I must have lost. I felt frustrated, but I had no regrets. The memories of dancing with Illia were far more vivid.

There was someone sitting next to the bed.

“Oh…”

It was Illia. With her arms crossed, she leaned against the wall on her left side, eyes closed, and soft snores were escaping her lips.

She must have fallen asleep while keeping me company. Kiyoaki found himself watching Illia’s defenceless sleeping face, illuminated by the evening sunlight.

The usual sharpness that kept others at bay was gone, replaced by a soft, innocent expression typical of a late-teen girl. I had never seen this kind of unguarded expression on her before.

It seemed that the other friends had kindly left us alone together. They might just be having fun, but I was grateful for their consideration. I had so much to talk about with Illia.

“Illia…”

I called her name, but there was no response. She was likely in a deep sleep, exhausted from pushing her physical and mental limits.

Her sleeping face stirred some indescribable feelings within me. I wanted to express them, but something held me back.

“Illia.”

There was still no sign of her waking up.

Thinking back, she was indeed a person with a mysterious connection.

Not only was it the duel between our fathers, but also how we sat next to each other on the aerial ship, and how we fought for the top spot in the mock aerial battle. These encounters felt significant. After graduating from this school, we would belong to different military branches, but surely our connection would continue.

—I wonder what lies ahead for us…

As I gazed at Illia’s innocent sleeping face in the sunset, those thoughts crossed my mind.

“Mm…”

Illia’s lips moved slightly. Her long eyelashes fluttered. Kiyoaki hurriedly averted his gaze to the window.

“Oh…”

As she opened her eyes and noticed Kiyoaki sitting up, Illia let out a sound. He smiled in return.

“Good morning, Illia. You slept well, huh?”

For just a moment, Illia looked away, embarrassed, but quickly regained her usual dignified and confident expression.

“…I asked you not to. You were sleeping too, so I got careless…”

“Yeah, thanks to you, I got a good rest. I appreciate you staying with me.”

“I only did it because I was assigned. I had no choice but to do as Kagura told me. Someone should be coming to relieve me soon.”

Saying this awkwardly, Illia glared at him for some reason. Predicting that if it were Kagura's arrangement, a change wouldn’t come for a while, Kiyoaki smiled.

“You won, congratulations.”

As Kiyoaki praised her, Illia continued to glare at him.

“…You just fell out on your own. I didn’t do anything.”

“I don’t remember. Did I get thrown out?”

“The aircraft broke apart in mid-air, and you were ejected from your seat, and the parachute opened. You really are lucky.”

“…I see. I’ll probably get scolded by the instructor. I damaged the aircraft.”

“This isn’t the first accident. There was no harm to the spectators. You should accept the instructor’s reprimand.”

“Yeah, I’ll do that. …Hey, Illia, can I ask you something?”

“?”

“When we were fighting together, what were you thinking?”

When I asked, it was as if I had thrown a stone into a lake, causing ripples to form in the depths of Illia's eyes.

“It’s a strange question, but… I want to know how you felt.”

Her expression remained stern, but for once, a hint of hesitation and confusion appeared in the usually expressionless Illia.

“That is…”

Illia stared into space as if searching for words, then suddenly snapped back to reality and glared at Kiyoaki.

“First, you should tell me how you felt.”

“Oh, yeah, that’s true. Um… I…”

Faced with her counter-question, Kiyoaki searched for his own words.

What I felt at that moment… It was as if I became one with Illia through the sky. The aircraft, our bodies—everything that separated us melted away, and I felt directly connected to Illia's heart. I had never experienced such happiness before. It was a moment when I felt all of Illia.

Thinking that far, Kiyoaki raised his flushed face, looking apologetically at Illia, who was waiting for his response with a tense expression.

"I'm sorry, I can't say it because I'm embarrassed."

"What do you mean by that?"

"Well, it's impossible. You’ll definitely get angry."

"That's even more intriguing. If you’ve said that much, you should say it."

"I'm sorry, but I was in a bit of a strange state at that time. How should I put it, it felt like I had evolved, in a cool way? It's like I was myself, but not myself... something like that..."

"...Flying at high altitudes affects brain function. It's not an especially rare phenomenon."

"Yeah, that's true, but it felt different. I mean... well, yeah, maybe that was it."

Kiyoaki tried to end the conversation, but Illia unusually pressed for more questions.

"You're trying to dodge the issue. That's cowardly. You should say it clearly until the end."

With unexpected pressure from Illia, Kiyoaki's cheeks grew even redder as he retorted.

"If you're going to say that, what about you, Illia? You haven't said anything at all!"

"I-I will say it after you. If you say it honestly, I will say it properly."

"Is that really true?"

"What kind of face is that? Do you think I would lie? You're being disrespectful. I am a candidate officer; I will definitely keep my promises."

Illia said this with an angry demeanour, leaning back in her chair.

Breaking a promise would result in being branded unfit to be an officer. This is true for any military in the world. The duty of an officer is to give orders to non-commissioned officers and soldiers, leading them into danger, which requires the officer's character to be honourable. Keeping promises is fundamental. Those who break promises or lie are deeply resented among officer candidates, ostracized, and it even affects their advancement. The sense of "promise" for soldiers is far stricter than in general society.

──If Illia is saying all this.

Kiyoaki made up his mind. It was embarrassing and awkward, and if he expressed it incorrectly, it could be misunderstood, but as long as he chose his words carefully, it would be fine.

With a resolute expression, Kiyoaki looked directly at Illia.

"...I understand. Then I'll say it. If I say it, you have to say it too, okay?"

Illia also regained her composure and glared back at him.

"I intend to. I won't run away or hide. Now, say it."

clearing his throat, Kiyoaki recalled the memory of that moment.

"When the one-on-one battle started and the remaining time dropped below five minutes... the colour of the sky looked different. It was clearer and brighter than usual... It might be an exaggeration to say it looked divine. Even though I should be used to it, it was a sky I had never seen before."

"...........It can be thought that due to maintaining extreme concentration, the senses became sharper than usual. I also felt that the colour of the sky was bright."

"Yeah... that might be it. So, it's embarrassing to say, but for some reason, it felt like I was sharing the pain, suffering, and joy of flying with you... I can understand it when I watch how you fly..."

Upon hearing this, a faint blush appeared on Illia's typically stoic face.

"..............That's a coincidence. ................I can't deny that I also felt like I was sharing sensations with you."

She blushed awkwardly, struggling to articulate her thoughts.

Illia was earnestly trying to be honest. She couldn’t fabricate what she saw or felt and report it falsely.

As long as he spoke honestly, Illia would respond sincerely.

Kiyoaki’s heart raced more as he spoke. The fact that Illia had shared the same sensations in that sky made him very happy. He leaned forward, eager to continue.

"Really!? Yeah, I find it really strange, but it felt like... my body was disappearing, or something like that... I was merging with the sky. My senses were so finely tuned that I could grasp where and how you were flying..."

In Illia's expression, a flicker of emotion broke through. Her typically tightly closed lips and slightly tense cheeks showed a hint of human emotion.

"...........I was probably in a similar state. No... I experienced the same state."

Kiyoaki couldn't hide his joy. The fact that Illia had flown while feeling the same way as him—this meant that she had also experienced the feeling of transcending physical barriers, where both the aircraft and body had dissolved.

──At that moment, Illia and I were one.

That realization filled him with fundamental joy. He couldn't suppress his smile or words.

"I felt you so close. Close, or rather... it felt like we were the same."

"................"

"Everything you're thinking, your feelings and emotions... I could feel them all, and indeed, it became a reality. Everything about you came into me..."

"................"

"My body disappeared, and my heart melted together with you in the sky."

"................"

"It felt like the sky was... wait, Illia?"

I realized there was no response or even a nod.

Ilia's face, and even the tips of her fingers, were completely red. She was completely frozen. It seemed my expression had been too much.

"Ilia, I'm sorry! I said something strange!"

"Ah, ah... no, um... it's fine..."

"Your face looks like a tomato...!"

"Y-yeah, I'm fine! It'll be back to normal soon..."

"I'm sorry I couldn't say it well. That was a strange thing to say, maybe a bit exaggerated."

"Y-yeah... um, it's okay. It's just that you felt that way."

"...I understand it must be hard to hear something like that suddenly. I couldn't choose my words well..."

"...There's no need to apologize. ...We don't usually talk that much, so I was just confused about what you were feeling..."

Illia placed one hand on her chest and let out a big breath, raising her expression to a softer one than usual. A hint of kindness and empathy flickered through her usually cold lips.

"...It was a mysterious experience. ...It was a sky I had never felt before. It was like something that had been sleeping within me was drawn out and blossomed into the high-altitude atmosphere... I think I misunderstood my perception of the sky."

I could tell Illia was doing her best to express her honest feelings. She was trying to respond to Kiyoaki's sincerity.

"...For a long time... the sky had been a painful place for me. For the first time today, I felt joy in flying. I understood that flying together with someone can be so enjoyable... I can't express it well, but that’s my impression."

Kiyoaki smiled back at Illia's awkward but sincere words.

"I'm so happy! Yeah, I'm really happy, Illia. Today was the best. This was my first time enjoying flying so much."

"...I see. ...Yeah. ...If that's the case, I'm glad."

"Right? We barely talk normally. If we talked more, we might understand how to express ourselves better. Honestly, I want to talk to you more, but I’ve always thought maybe you didn’t like me."

"I don't dislike you. ...I'm not very good at socializing... I don't really know how to enter a group."

"There’s no method. You just talk about things you find interesting. It’s fine if it’s silly or meaningless. What’s important is spending time together."

"...I see. ...That’s how it is."

Kiyoaki laughed happily, finding a casual topic to start some light chatter. Illia only nodded along, but when he asked questions, she responded each time with diligence. The conversation wasn’t particularly lively, but Kiyoaki was enjoying himself. He was genuinely happy to be spending time with Illia.

Even as it got dark outside the window, Kiyoaki continued to bring up topics as best as he could. There were many things he wanted to talk to Illia about—school, subjects, friends. As Illia's initial awkwardness began to fade, Kiyoaki brought up the topic of "The Seven Wonders of Air Hunt."

"By the way, the other day, the FairyTale Donuts appeared again! It was an unprecedented massive emergence! Have you ever had them?"

At this, Illia, who had been responding calmly until now, showed a slight flicker of movement in her expression.

"D-Donuts? I don't know about them."

She said this in an even more awkward tone than usual, looking down unusually.

"What? You don’t know? They're so famous! By the way, you weren't around during the supply uproar the other day, were you?"

"Y-yeah. I was somewhere else. I had no idea about any commotion."

She spoke as if reading each sentence in an awkward syllabic manner. Kiyoaki continued, feeling puzzled.

"You've never had them? You’re definitely missing out. I had heard the rumours, but I was amazed. I've never had donuts that good."

After saying this, Illia, who had been looking down, glanced up at him uncertainly.

"...Really? They were that good?"

"Yeah, they were the best I've ever eaten."

"Th-that's an exaggeration. Mio's cooking is way better."

"Ah, well... Mio's cooking is definitely good, but those donuts are in a different league. The aroma of the eggs, the balance of the flour, the baking time... it's unbelievable. It's divine."

"Th-that's too much praise...! That's going too far; it’s way too exaggerated."

Illia, who was rarely flustered, became a bit more animated, and Kiyoaki intensified his tone.

"No, really! They’re that amazing! Plus, they have cute designs like bears and rabbits made with chocolate chips! I thought the person who made them was amazing!"

At this, for just a moment, Illia’s lips seemed to twitch into a smile, but she quickly looked down again to hide her expression.

After taking a couple of deep breaths, Illia spoke again in that strange syllabic manner.

"R-really? The bears and rabbits are cute? Is that so?"

"I hope you can see the Fairytale Donuts, too. The problem is we don’t know when they’ll appear... The person making them should just make them in public. Then you could eat them too."

"W-well, there might be some deep reason for it. The maker probably doesn’t want anyone to know they have such a girlish hobby. Maybe."

"Y-yeah, that’s true, there might be some reasons they can’t reveal themselves. But it’s a shame. Just talking about them makes me want to eat them again. I wonder how many times I can meet them before graduation...?"

"...By the way, which donut was the best?"

"Huh? Oh, right, the one I ate was lemon cream. Reiner got strawberry and shared a little with me, and it was really good. I want to try different ones, but you know, it’s rationed. The almond one looked delicious, too..."

"...I see. ...Strawberry, huh? ...Got it."

Illia nodded to herself, looking as if she understood something. It was a rare reaction, so Kiyoaki wanted to continue the donut talk, but Illia stubbornly refused to delve any deeper into the topic. He had no choice but to change the subject and keep talking.

The happy conversation continued for another hour. Medical staff brought in dinner, and Illia returned to her room. Despite feeling a twinge of regret, Kiyoaki was glad to have spent a fun time with her.

The next day, the Fairytale Donuts made another massive appearance in the student hall. This time, for some reason, there were more strawberries, and the bears, rabbits, and tanukis seemed to dance joyfully. Kiyoaki got his share of strawberries and enjoyed them.

"I wonder who makes these donuts?"

Cecil, munching nearby, tilted her head.

"You shouldn't investigate. They probably don’t want anyone to know they have such a girlish hobby..."

Kiyoaki said with a smile, stuffing strawberries into his cheeks. He already knew who the maker was, but he thought he would keep this secret in his heart until he passed away.

The newspapers and magazines sensationalized the results of the mock aerial battle, and the people of St Vault rejoiced while the Akitsu citizens felt frustration but still praised Kiyoaki’s efforts. Both Kiyoaki and Illia faced a flood of interviews, and following the principal's request, they managed to provide exemplary responses. Even Karsten Kreischmidt, who was hiding, was surrounded by numerous media outlets. About a week later, when the Odessa Fortress Assault began, the press finally began to disappear.

By the time things settled down, March was fast approaching. Kagura and Balthazar were about to graduate. Just when Kiyoaki felt a bit lonely, he received an unexpected joyful report from the Akitsu military headquarters.

After graduating from Air Hunt Officer School, Kagura and Kiyoaki would be "deployed as candidate officers" directly into the St Vault military.

Although the title seemed rather peculiar, according to the explanation from the embassy, it was a request from the St Vault military headquarters. Kagura and Kiyoaki were recognized by both nations as "The Seven from Eriadore," and their fighting as St Vault soldiers would greatly boost the morale of the young St Vault people and increase volunteer recruits. Simultaneously, it would also demonstrate the strong alliance between both countries to the continental powers. For the Akitsu Federation, it was also possible for Kagura and Kiyoaki to learn advanced military science at the frontlines and bring it back home. There were no disadvantages for either country—so they said.

Both Kagura and Kiyoaki were overjoyed. They had planned to join the Akitsu military after graduation, but now they could fight as soldiers of the St Vault military. They had thought they would be separated from Illia, Cecil, Balthazar, Reiner, and Mio, so this was the best news they could hope for.

Immediately after receiving the news, Kiyoaki searched for Mio. He wanted to be the first to share the good news with her. However, he couldn’t find her anywhere. Feeling frustrated by the vast campus, he asked passersby if they had seen Mio. But there was no sign of her. Exhausted, he sat weakly on a bench by the field where he had last talked to her when someone tapped him on the shoulder.

"Ah... Reiner."

"Hey. You look down. Did you get rejected by Mio again?"

With a playful grin, Reiner approached, dressed for an outing. Kiyoaki could only laugh awkwardly.

"Yeah... something like that. Have you seen Mio?"

"Nope. If I see her, I’ll let her know you were searching for her, crying."

"...Thanks. Oh, by the way, Reiner, Kagura and I will be able to join the St Vault military after graduation."

Reiner raised one eyebrow.

"Oh, really? Kagura is joining us? That’s great."

Kiyoaki explained the situation briefly, stood up from the bench, and smiled at Reiner.

"Yeah. It's just a deployment, but I can officially become a St Vault soldier. Let’s keep in touch, Reiner."

He extended his hand for a handshake, but Reiner continued to smile playfully, shrugging his shoulders and refusing.

"Don't do that. It’s annoying. Well, let’s keep it casual from here on out."

Kiyoaki kept his hand extended, speaking seriously.

"I want to thank you. Even though you hide it, you sometimes silently help me, right? It was like that during the mock aerial battle, but also in other ways, behind the scenes."

Reiner looked at him suspiciously, raising the other eyebrow.

"You’re really capable and a good guy. I’m sure... you’re probably the most well-rounded among us seven."

As he maintained his seriousness, Reiner turned his face away, sending only his left eye toward Kiyoaki.

"...What’s with the sudden seriousness? That’s creepy. Did you eat something weird?"

In response to Reiner's cold words, Kiyoaki smiled back.

"I want to stay friends with you. Even when we join the military. Even if we quit. For life. We’re the same age and get along."

"................"

"I think of you as my best friend. So, please shake my hand."

Reiner made a strange face, mouth forming a frown, eyebrows furrowing in a way Kiyoaki had never seen before. Then, hesitantly, he raised his right hand, reaching for Kiyoaki's hand... but then dropped it again.

Kiyoaki’s expression turned sad. After clicking his tongue, Reiner suddenly wrapped his right hand around the back of Kiyoaki's neck and twisted him sideways.

"Ouch! What are you doing!?"

In a classic headlock position, Kiyoaki struggled frantically, but Reiner tightened his grip on Kiyoaki's head with his right hand.

"It hurts, stop it!"

"Shut up. This is punishment for saying something stupid with a serious face."

"It really hurts! Stop, stop!"

"I'm going to teach you something, rich kid. I’m not the kind of guy you can just trust easily. Don’t just believe in people blindly."

"I get it, so stop it! My back hurts!"

"Alright, don't ever call me your best friend again, okay? Got it? If you say it again, there’s going to be worse than this."

"I understand, I won't say it again!"

Finally, when Kiyoaki screamed, Reiner let go of his right arm. Kiyoaki stepped back as if escaping a rabbit. Reiner's strong arms felt like they might actually break his neck.

"I'm sorry! Are you mad!? I didn’t think you’d get angry...!"

As Kiyoaki hurriedly tried to explain, Reiner snorted and turned his back.

"...You’re just too cheerful, so it annoyed me. You’re so carefree, it’s impressive how you can live like that."

He spat that out and began to walk away.

Feeling the unusual atmosphere pressing down on him, Kiyoaki couldn’t move.

"Reiner..."

At that moment, the blue sky was behind Reiner. The light clouds were drifting in the refreshing February sky.

It was so clear, without a single impurity, an exceptionally pure blue that Kiyoaki would never forget.

Reiner stopped walking and gazed up at that sky for a while.

A gust of wind blew past, sweeping away the dust at their feet.

"Hey, Kiyoaki."

Suddenly, Reiner spoke in a serious tone without turning around.

"................?"

The atmosphere felt different from usual.

"If... someone deceives you and betrays you in the future..."

Reiner turned to face him. A light-hearted smile was on his face.

"You can hate them."

The smile was there, but something behind it was clearly different.

"Hate them, resent them... you can even think you want to kill them."

This was a Reiner Kiyoaki knew, yet it felt unfamiliar.

"You’re too much of a nice guy. Even after being betrayed, it seems like you’d still want to trust them... Don’t do that."

Reiner smirked.

Kiyoaki didn’t understand what he was saying. Yet somehow, he could feel Reiner's underlying sadness seeping through that light-hearted smile.

"Reiner...?"

Reiner chuckled again and turned away.

"...Just kidding. It was just a youth game. Anyway, I’ve got to go; some girls are waiting for me at the club. You should tone down the warmth a bit."

Waving a hand over his shoulder, Reiner walked away. Kiyoaki could only stare blankly at his departing figure.

"Idiot."

He clicked his tongue, donned his helmet, and mounted his bike in the parking lot.

"Ugh, what a hassle."

He kicked the starter angrily, reflecting his feelings in his rough driving, and reached the familiar clubhouse in about fifteen minutes.

The building was a white pension-style structure by the seaside. On weekends, dressed-up girls flock to mingle with future sailors and airmen. In this remote island community, the only entertainment for young people is romance, so as long as there are no serious issues, officer candidates tend to be popular.

Reiner sauntered into the shop, casually chatting with familiar faces while sipping a soft drink.

Several local girls cast glances at Reiner. He was well-known as one of "The Seven from Eriadore," and his impressive performance in the recent mock aerial battle had been reported. It was undeniable that he was a promising Pilot, so many girls wanted to approach him.

But Reiner paid them no mind. He watched the entrance, looking for today's target.

One girl with red hair and a plain look entered. It was unusual for someone to come alone; typically, they come with a group of friends.

Reiner got up and approached her.

The girl noticed and looked up. Reiner held up his glass in a pretentious manner.

"My sister is in the hospital. I'm thinking of a gift, but I don’t know what girls like. What would you give?"

Caught off guard by the sudden question, the red-haired girl hesitated before answering.

"Maybe a cake. Like a strawberry shortcake."

"I see. Sweet things are probably good."

He made small talk, adding a few more words, but it was clear Reiner had lost interest in the girl. She noticed his aloofness, and soon they parted ways.

Reiner sat back at the counter, observing the new arrivals as he had done before.

He didn’t approach any girls who came with friends. Instead, he only targeted those who came alone, asking about gifts for his sister, receiving answers like "stuffed animals," "books," or "underwear," and having short conversations before parting. He repeated this process continuously.

"Reiner, you still aren't very popular."

The bartender teased, but Reiner shrugged his shoulders and smiled.

"I’m the one turning them down."

He responded confidently.

Another girl entered. She had nondescript brown hair, cheap tortoiseshell glasses, and an outdated half coat with a pleated skirt. Reiner approached her casually and threw out the same question.

"My sister is in the hospital. I'm thinking of a gift. What would you give?"

The girl assessed Reiner from behind her glasses, thinking for a moment before responding.

"December roses."

Reiner nodded and smiled at the girl.

"I'm Reiner Beck. And you?"

"Heather."

"Alright. Let’s go, Heather."

Without hesitation, Heather nodded, and the two left the shop together.

Reiner mounted his bike again. Heather, as if on cue, took a helmet and settled into the back seat.

Ten minutes later, they arrived at Cross Cape, dismounting from the bike.

From the cape, they could look down on Air Hunt Port. They could easily discern the passing ships and warships from there.

The cold wind howled across the sparsely populated cape, and the two spent two hours there in silence.

"Time’s up. Let’s go."

Reiner suddenly urged Heather, and after seating her again, they headed to the ferry terminal at Air Hunt Port. There were two daily sailings to the homeland of St Vault, one in the morning and one in the afternoon.

Heather bought a ticket for the ferry home. Reiner pulled a thin envelope from his pocket and handed it to Heather.

"It's a love letter."

"Sure."

"Well then."

"Okay."

After exchanging short words, Heather headed alone to the ferry waiting room. Reiner didn’t even see her off as he mounted his bike and returned to the officer school.

The ferry departed for the homeland an hour later.

Heather sat alone on a bed in a first-class cabin, gazing out the round window at the receding Air Hunt Island.

Once the island disappeared from view, she opened the "love letter" she had received from Reiner. Inside were three sheets of report paper, each neatly handwritten with the following content:

"Responses to the various questions concerning Air Hunt Port
1.The third pier has been opened to the military. The total number of moored ships is around 150.
2.Two new model air battleships. Model names unknown. One Greenland-class battleship, one Southern Cross-class battleship. One Nashville-class escort carrier. Twelve Percival-class air cruisers.
3.The new air battleships are moored at the third pier. The carrier is in the first dock. The standard battleships and cruisers are anchored in a double column formation in Sanjiru Bay to the southwest of Air Hunt Island.
4.The new battleships, standard battleships, and cruisers form one strike group, and they all conduct exercises at sea from 8 AM to 5 PM on weekdays before returning to port.
5.It takes about 45 minutes for the strike group to leave the anchorage and head outside the port.
6.The strike group does not conduct exercises on Sundays, and all ships are moored.
7.Neither the battleships, carriers, nor cruisers install anti-torpedo nets when they are anchored.
8.The Nashville-class carrier is in dock for repairs. As of February 17th, it has been there for over three months.
9.In Sanjiru Bay, the ships are always anchored in a double column formation.
10.Patrols by large aircraft are conducted at dawn and dusk. The number of planes is unknown, but it is assumed to be seven or eight in a fan-shaped patrol.
11.There is only one air base on Air Hunt Island: Saragana Base. The number of permanently stationed aircraft includes over 20 carrier-based fighters, over 10 polar fighters, over 20 dive bombers, and over 20 attack aircraft. It is estimated that about 70% of these aircraft are operational.
12.There are barrage balloons present in the airspace. They are indicated on a separate diagram.
13.Possible enemy landing points are also indicated on a separate diagram.
14.There is an anti-submarine net installed in Sanjiru Bay. The type is unknown.
15.The possibility of temporary anchorage at nearby islands cannot be ruled out.
16.The size of the underground fuel depot is..."

The remaining two pages were filled with detailed enemy information, and the last page was a map of Air Hunt Island. In red ink, the positions of the fleet, the anti-submarine nets, the barrage balloons, and three possible enemy landing points were circled.

Heather put the nameless, sender-less letter into her pocket. Once she arrived in the St Vault mainland, she would take the train via the Zunjin Dynasty to the Harmonia Empire. From there, she would travel by air to the 11th Air Fortress "Balsinos" of Urano. Once she handed over this letter to her superior officer, her mission would be complete.

Being a courier wasn’t easy, but it was still better than being an undercover agent, Heather thought. As a courier, you only had to meet most people once, but undercover agents had to live their lives in their assigned locations, constantly deceiving those around them. Just thinking about it was exhausting. As she gazed out of the round window at the approaching silhouette of the St Vault Empire, Heather erased any thoughts of Reiner from her mind, knowing they would never meet again.

After parking his bike in the officer academy’s parking lot, Reiner walked alone along the path back to the dormitory.

The campus was as large as a small city. In addition to the school buildings, there were three stadiums, a memorial hall, and even a canal. It was designed to be modern and sophisticated without unnecessary grandeur, as a hub for St Vault’s military education.

As Reiner walked, passing a few scattered people, he noticed a familiar figure.

It was Mio.

She was heading behind the school building, alone.

Feeling a vague sense of unease, Reiner quietly followed her.

Mio, occasionally checking her surroundings, entered the shadowy area behind the gym equipment shed. Reiner, with skilful steps, stayed out of sight, hiding in the shadows and observing her.

After confirming once more that no one else was around, Mio whistled.

After a short while, something descended from the sky.

It was Fio.

As always, Fio landed directly on Mio’s shoulder.

Mio pulled a slip of paper from her pocket, twisted it into a string, and tied it to Fio's leg.

"I'm counting on you."

Fio chirped as if understanding Mio's words and flew off into the sky. Mio stood silently, watching the sky where Fio had disappeared.

Reiner observed the entire sequence from the shadows and thought back to Balthazar's words.

"The true nature of a diplomat. Eight highly skilled children, adopted from around the world, each with different skin tones. The special nature of the bird called Fio. When you analyze all the factors, you can deduce the cause of Mio’s transformation."

A diplomat, in the broad sense, is a spy.

They openly reside in enemy countries, working both overtly and covertly for the benefit of their own nation. It’s not uncommon for agents trained by intelligence agencies to be given the title of "diplomat" and sent to enemy countries. Likewise, diplomats are always targets for bribery by enemy countries. Money, women, power—every possible means is used to bribe diplomats, turning them into assets for the enemy. Many diplomats, after long stays in enemy nations, have become entangled in enemy interests and turned into double agents. Mio's parents had been stationed in the Harmonia Empire for a long time, so it’s not out of the question that some issue arose during that time.

And then there’s the matter of too many adopted children.

The strongest bond in the world is the bond of family.

It's much stronger than friendship or romance. If children are raised and nurtured with love from a young age, they would likely never disobey their adoptive parents. What if Mio’s parents had gathered exceptional children with the sole purpose of sending them into key institutions of the continental powers, raising them to never defy their orders?
And then, there’s the special nature of Fio, the bird.

An extraordinary bird.

Usually, carrier pigeons can only carry messages in one direction—from the sender to the receiver. When a pigeon is released, it flies to its "mate" on the receiver’s side. It’s a communication method that relies on the bird’s homing instinct, so once the pigeon returns to its home, it can’t be sent back to the original sender.

But Fio is different.

Fio can fly not only to the mate but also back to Mio. Mio sends Fio to the mate, the receiver writes a reply, and then Fio flies back to Mio.

With Fio, two-way communication through written messages is possible. For undercover agents, this is a dream come true.

The greatest challenge for agents is maintaining communication with their home country.

If they were to use simple methods like wireless telegraphs or telephone communications, they would immediately be intercepted and arrested by the enemy’s counterintelligence agency. Coded messages may also be deciphered, so they should not be used either.

The safest method is to entrust the documents to a courier. No matter how much communication technology advances, documents remain the most secure means of transmitting sensitive information. However, it’s risky to use a familiar courier, so they must use cumbersome methods, like exchanging code words, as we saw earlier. If the courier’s identity is known in advance, there’s a risk that if they are captured and given truth serum, they could reveal the entire intelligence network.

There’s no better courier than Fio.

And Mio, who skilfully controls Fio, might be an extremely valuable asset as an undercover agent.

––It wouldn’t be surprising if the Urano Special Intelligence Agency had already set their sights on her.

Having thought this far, Reiner left the shadows and approached Mio.

"Ah... Reiner."

Mio noticed him and turned around in surprise.
[[File:MioCrying.png|thumb]]
With his usual frivolous smile, Reiner approached without answering.

Mio’s expression clearly showed caution.

"...What? Why are you here?"

Her eyes held a fear she had never shown before, even when she was aboard the Eriadore.

Reiner grinned and asked:

"My sister was hospitalized. I’m trying to decide what to get her as a gift."

At that moment, Mio’s eyes lost their colour.

With just that reaction, Reiner understood everything.

He had seen eyes like that many times before.

There was probably no need to ask further questions.

But Reiner continued.

"Mio, what would you send as a gift?"

Mio stared intently at Reiner.

Before the winter break, her eyes had shone so brightly, but now they had lost all their light.

Hope was gone, leaving behind only despair for the future, eyes filled with sadness as if cursing her own birth.

Reiner Beck, the Urano Special Agent known as "Hachidori" (Hummingbird), had seen many children with eyes like hers since he was young.

Many of them had died with those same eyes. Out of the hundred selected, only eight had survived.

Filled with sadness, hatred, anger, and despair—Mio’s eyes continued to stare at Hachidori.

Hachidori had already seen through Mio’s current situation and internally mocked her.

––To think there are two traitors hidden among "The Seven of Eriadore."

What awaited them was a cruel stage designed by the malice of the gods.

As Mio came to the same realization, her lips parted.

"December roses..."

Along with her words, a single tear traced down Mio’s cheek.

End Volume 2

Toaru Hikuushi e no Seiyaku:V2Part8

2025-11-28T02:15:38Z

QCore:

Part 16
He kept his eyes on the enemy's tail. According to the posted formation, Arrow 1 was Illia, Arrow 2 was Balthazar, and Arrow 3 was Obando.

Spotting the aircraft marked with a "3," Kiyoaki shouted into the mic.

"Obando is on the right; we'll take him down first!"

Following the prior briefing, he pivoted to face their first target.

The Arrow formation, agile as ever, tilted its aircraft and charged straight at them. Leading the pack was, of course, Illia.

Kiyoaki banked sharply to the left, raising his nose. They were both trying to draw smaller circles than the opponent, attempting to close the distance with as tight a left turn as possible.

The enemy Arrow formation moved up towards his windscreen. Kiyoaki looked up at the approaching enemy planes. To his sides, Kagura and Reiner closely flanked him, ready to protect. The enemy also appeared to enter a horizontal turn—at least that’s what he thought.

"The enemy is losing altitude. They're trying to bring it vertical!"

Kagura relayed through the speaker. The enemy was rotating horizontally while subtly dropping in height. The previously horizontal ring gradually tilted, and then it looked as if it would stand vertically. This was likely Balthazar's strategy, having identified their vertical turn as a weakness.

"It'll be a G-force contest. Mental strength will decide the outcome; do not lose!"

"Understood!"

Kiyoaki responded to Kagura’s urgent tone.

"Especially you, Reiner! Don’t give up easily!"

"Why am I being singled out?!"

Listening to the exchanges over the speaker, Kiyoaki glared at the top of the windscreen. Flying at high speed in three-dimensional space made it difficult to sense up and down. Beyond the windscreen, the land seemed to descend from the sky, creating a bizarre view.

On the fourth rotation, the turn completely transitioned to vertical. The Arrow and Lance formations continued to chase each other's tails, rolling through the air.

With each dive, air was sucked from his lungs, and with each ascent, his weight bore down on him like a rock.

Negative Gs and positive Gs slammed against his body with both fists. If he relaxed even for a moment, his consciousness would be swept away entirely; the heavens above and the earth below intertwined in a hell of gravity and inertia. Yet both formations tore through that hell, breaking free.

Kiyoaki bent his neck back as far as possible, glaring at Illia above him. The sky and ground alternated, descending in a dizzying array around Illia. No matter how painful it became, he would never take his eyes off her. Breathless, he held his breath, the crushing weight of inertia pounding at him relentlessly. But those who succumbed to this agony would fall behind. To win in aerial combat, one must endure, endure, and endure again.

—I will never lose. I will not lose. I will not lose...

Holding onto that singular thought. Clinging tightly and not letting go. No matter how much the plus Gs battered his lungs or how the minus Gs threatened to pull his soul away, he kept his gaze fixed on Illia above.

Ilia was struggling too. Balthazar and Obando were surely gritting their teeth, both their eyes reddened as they endured the hell of gravity and inertia. The pain felt by everyone in this cockpit was equally felt by all engaged in the aerial battle. There was no way he would be the first to give in.

The clash of wills continued, keeping their vertical dance alive.

As they danced, the two formations began to unravel.

What had once been a perfect triangle at the start of the battle now morphed into a distorted shape over time.

The differences in the stamina and mental strength of each pilot were becoming evident in their formations. The least experienced were being pushed out of the dance.

—Obando is falling behind...!

Kiyoaki could see Obando in the right wing of the Arrow formation gradually slipping from the upper part of the windscreen to the front. Frustrated with the agony of continuing to fly in circles, he was likely opting for another manoeuvre. Though he had the best stamina among the six, his mental state was faltering. During aerial combat, the brain often lacks the oxygen needed for normal functioning, leading to unexpected actions. Regardless of the reason, this crack was a stroke of luck.

Kiyoaki aimed his nose toward Obando. Against the rapidly shifting sky and ground, the silhouette of the faltering aircraft began to fit into his sights.

Closing in to the point of guaranteed hits.

Obando noticed and hurriedly turned his controls to the side. The Arrow formation began to break apart dramatically, with Illia and Balthazar flipping vertically, while Obando fled horizontally. The Lance formation, sticking to their original plan, closed in on Obando's tail, pulling him into a horizontal chase.

Chasing Obando at full speed, Kiyoaki also pushed his throttle wide open. The windscreen rattled.

He was concerned about Illia, but there was no time to glance her way. Trusting that Kagura and Reiner would protect him, he focused all his attention ahead.

He locked onto the struggling silhouette of Obando.

With all emotions set aside, he placed his finger on the trigger.

Like a ritual, Kiyoaki superimposed Mio's smiling face over the enemy aircraft.

To ensure that the people he cared about would never have to experience what his parents and sister did.

To ensure that people like his parents and sister never had to face Mio.

—I will take down the enemy.

He pulled the trigger without hesitation.

The specialized round shot through the air, leaving a white trail as it lunged toward Obando.

He watched as red splashes erupted on the "3" tail.

"Arrow 3, shot down. Leave the airspace."

The announcement from the monitoring instructor's aircraft echoed through the speakers.

In that moment of relief—

"Kiyoaki, up!!"

Kagura's shout struck his ears.

He looked up.

Suddenly, a hawk was diving down, backlit by the sun.

"Illia!!"

—There’s no way to avoid it…!!

The moment when he would be most defenceless was targeted. Kiyoaki had completely exposed the upper surface of his aircraft to Illia. From her perspective, the target was large, and he couldn't shoot back. It was a beautifully executed, precise attack by Illia.

He tried to tilt his aircraft desperately, but Illia was faster.

—This is how I lose...!!

In that moment of regret, a shadow intruded between Kiyoaki and Illia.

From the corner of his right eye, he spotted the "2" on the tail.

"Kagura!!"

As soon as he shouted, red splashes scattered in the air, and Illia descended past Kiyoaki's aircraft.

"Arrow 2, shot down. Leave the airspace."

Looking down at Illia shrinking toward the ground, Kiyoaki heard the merciless voice of the instructor.

"Kagura..."

"I'm sorry, this is it. Win, Kiyoaki."

Kagura said this and turned her red-stained aircraft toward the airfield. She had been shot down by Illia, acting as Kiyoaki's shield. His own inadequacy had forced Kagura into this situation. The guilt burned in his throat.

"There's still one left!!"

Kiyoaki snapped back to reality at Reiner's yell.

He glared at the sun. A second hawk was diving down.

It wasn't just Illia. There was a second arrow.

"Ugh...!!"

Clenching his jaw, Kiyoaki flipped his aircraft and began to glide diagonally through the sky. A special round's mark grazed nearby. If Kiyoaki hadn't been yelled at by Reiner, it would have been a direct hit. He quickly scanned the area around the windscreen and saw Balthazar diving toward the ground above him.

—They’re targeting my moment of distraction.

Kiyoaki shivered, realizing Balthazar had picked up on the fact that he was using up energy in the vertical manoeuvre and was solely focused on Illia. After dodging Illia’s attack, Balthazar seized the exact moment Kiyoaki was caught off guard.

—The captain is strong...!

The combination of Illia’s raw strength and Balthazar’s cunning and calmness was truly the worst for any opponent.

Just as Kagura had said, Balthazar should be the next target after Obando. If possible, Kiyoaki wanted to create a situation where he and Reiner could team up against Illia.

"I'm targeting Arrow 2!!"

Kiyoaki announced his target to Reiner and shifted his wings. Though he was still struggling to breathe from the vertical manoeuvres, there was no time for hesitation. Illia and Balthazar were continuing their manoeuvres and fighting as well. To win in aerial combat, he had to push his body, mind, and spirit to their limits.

—Throw everything into this.

Kiyoaki encouraged himself and opened the throttle. More weight pressed on his struggling lungs, causing his body to scream. Yet he didn’t stop pursuing the enemy aircraft.

Noticing he was being pursued, Balthazar dove low. While chasing Balthazar, Kiyoaki glanced back but saw no sign of Illia.

She was probably hiding in a spot out of sight—perhaps directly behind the aircraft. However, he couldn't take his eyes off Balthazar.

Forcing his bloodshot eyes wide open, he glared solely at Balthazar.

Balthazar dropped to an altitude of one hundred fifty meters and switched to level flight. He was likely trying to dodge Kiyoaki's attacks by flying low. Dropping to that altitude required a significant level of skill from the pilot. If he faltered, he could crash to the ground, causing a major accident involving the spectators.

However, this only heightened Kiyoaki's determination. His instincts as a pilot drove him to pursue Balthazar, who was opting for a risky manoeuvre.

"I won't let you escape...!!"

He plunged down and used the momentum to latch onto Balthazar's tail. Balthazar shook his aircraft from side to side in an attempt to flee, but Kiyoaki quickly closed the distance.

—I've taken his tail easily.

There was no way Balthazar, known for his cunning, would resort to such an easy escape.

—It's a trap.

Kiyoaki’s instincts whispered to him. Illia was undoubtedly targeting him from behind. However, he couldn’t ignore Balthazar.

—Even if it’s a trap, I’ll keep pursuing.

—Because I have Reiner.

To break Balthazar’s trap, he had no choice but to rely on his teammates.

With a raspy voice, Reiner strained to speak into the mic.

"Illia...!!"

It was difficult to get that much out. Perhaps Reiner was struggling with the same burdens; there was no response from him. Yet he believed that just those words would convey his intention to Reiner as he concentrated on Balthazar.

The gathered spectators below looked like a colourful mosaic. He flew past them in an instant, with Balthazar slithering away like a sea snake. Kiyoaki did not ease up on his pursuit for even a moment. Veins bulged at his temples as he grit his teeth, locking onto Balthazar.

But then—

"Watch out!!"

Reiner's shout reverberated through the speakers.

At the same time, Kiyoaki kicked the right footbar.

His aircraft slipped sharply to the side, and a barrage of special rounds flooded toward him.

Looking back, he saw Illia, just about to fire another shot aimed at him. In front, Balthazar turned left. He was likely planning to escape in that opening.

—Not if I can help it...!!

Focusing entirely on Balthazar, Kiyoaki tilted the control stick left and lifted the nose, enduring the approaching inertia while calling out to his reliable partner.

"Reiner!!"

"I got it...!!"

As Kiyoaki continued, Illia pursued him from further behind.

Just as Kiyoaki focused on Balthazar, Illia concentrated on him. Reiner, at the back, aimed to take advantage of Illia’s momentary lapse.

—Reiner, take her down...!!

He prayed but had no time to check behind him. The instructor's voice did not come through the speakers. All he could see in the corner of his vision was Illia dodging Reiner's shots with a swift sideways manoeuvre.

Illia was pulling away. Reiner was chasing. Balthazar, pressed by Kiyoaki, fled in the opposite direction from Illia. Kiyoaki entrusted Reiner with dealing with Illia and pursued Balthazar.

The surface of Air Hunt Island disappeared, and in an instant, the view below turned blue. They had reached the sea. A ten-kilometre radius around Air Hunt Island was designated as the combat area; leaving it meant an immediate loss. Balthazar was flying close to the edge of this boundary. If Kiyoaki got too caught up in the chase, he risked leaving the area himself.

—What a sneaky move...!

He had anticipated that he couldn't win against Kiyoaki's skills. It was a cunning but undeniably tricky tactic. After coming this far, he couldn't afford to lose out of bounds.

Balthazar flew enticingly close to the boundary line of the ocean. Above them, an instructor’s large aircraft monitored the mock aerial battle. The moment it was deemed out of bounds, the speakers would sound off. Kiyoaki couldn't pursue below.

He observed Balthazar's piloting. How was he keeping track of the ten-kilometre zone? He made educated guesses based on his flying.

—He’s only making right turns. He has to do that to keep track of the airspace.

—The captain must be judging the approximate distance by the shape of the island.

—Don’t make wide turns. If I stick closely behind, I can win.

There wasn't a clearly marked boundary in the sky. If he strayed too far outside the designated area, the instructor would surely stop him, but they would likely overlook slight deviations. What was essential was not to be shaken by Balthazar's psychological tactics; that was the only thing that mattered.

Determined, Kiyoaki increased his speed.

He closed the distance to Balthazar. At this point, Balthazar finally challenged him to a horizontal manoeuvre. Perhaps he was reading Kiyoaki’s fear of going out of bounds, and he engaged in a dogfight right at the edge of the designated airspace.

—Don’t be afraid.

Without hesitation, Kiyoaki accepted the challenge. If he let the fear of losing out of bounds stop him, Balthazar would gain the upper hand. As long as he turned tighter than the enemy, he couldn’t lose. He should only focus on that; there was no room for other doubts.

—Don’t get heated. Stay calm.

He reminded himself. Balthazar's aim was to provoke his opponent and make them lose their composure. He couldn't fall into that trap.

At an altitude of three hundred meters, they engaged in a low-level horizontal manoeuvre. As the fight continued, their altitude gradually decreased. If he fell too low, he would crash into the sea. But Balthazar was just as afraid. He steeled himself, keeping his eyes locked on the silhouette above him.

Kiyoaki was worried about Illia. However, he had no room to divert his gaze. He believed Reiner was keeping Illia in check, and on the third rotation, Kiyoaki focused the sights on Balthazar.

Current altitude: one hundred fifty meters. It was a dangerously low flight for a candidate. If Balthazar lifted his nose, the upper surface of his aircraft would fill the sights, and that would mean victory for Kiyoaki—but Balthazar continued to fly low. He was trying to shake off Kiyoaki by swerving left and right without fear of crashing into the ocean.

—He's not just cunning. He’s bold and brave...!

Kiyoaki had long understood that he couldn’t measure up to Balthazar in theoretical knowledge, but there was something noteworthy about his piloting skills. The aircraft currently in his sights belonged to someone who would be remembered in history as a great commander or strategist. Holding that thought, Kiyoaki imposed Mio's smiling face over it.

"Arrow 2, shot down. Leave the airspace."

With his tail marked "2" stained bright red, Balthazar effortlessly withdrew from the battlefield. It was as if he were saying he had fulfilled his role.

Kiyoaki turned his gaze back.

—Now, only Illia remains...!

It would be great to battle Illia with Reiner by his side. But where was Illia...?

In an instant, Kiyoaki scanned the entire airspace and spotted them.

High above Air Hunt Island, about three thousand five hundred meters up, two silhouettes were tangled together.

Reiner was desperately fleeing, while Illia relentlessly pursued her.

"Reiner!!"

He shouted, flipping his wings and heading straight for her. But by the time he realized it, victory was already on the line. Illia unleashed a precise shot at Reiner, who struggled to keep his aircraft upright.

"Arrow 3, shot down. Leave the airspace."

As Kiyoaki finally returned to the sky above Air Hunt Island, the speakers sounded off.

"You’ve stuck it out till now; you better be grateful."

Reiner’s nonchalant voice reached him. While he was chasing Balthazar, Reiner had taken on Illia's pursuit as bait. Kiyoaki expressed his gratitude.

"Yeah, thanks, Reiner."

"Win for me. For my score."

"I know. I won’t waste your efforts."

"Stop it. That's too mushy."

Ignoring the teasing tone, Kiyoaki fixed his gaze on Illia, who was soaring toward the zenith.

From here on, it would be a one-on-one fight.

Illia, who had seemed so far out of reach, now spread her wings in the same airspace as Kiyoaki. She was aiming for him.

—Let’s settle this, Illia.

He surrendered to the surging emotions and opened the throttle. Illia, realizing he was coming for her, began to gain altitude.

In aerial combat with aircraft of the same performance, the one at a higher altitude held the advantage. Kiyoaki pulled the control stick back, but since Illia started at a higher position, they would engage with a difference of about five hundred meters in altitude.

The horizontal distance shrank to less than one thousand meters. Current altitude: two thousand two hundred meters. Illia, from about two thousand seven hundred, twisted her aircraft.

A silver silhouette descended diagonally from above like a hawk. With both using the same engine to ascend, there would be a significant energy difference.

—Don’t dodge. Go straight in.

His instincts whispered. Rather than initiating a circular manoeuvre, he wanted to set up a position where they would pass each other.

Illia noticed his intentions. Instantly, she corrected her stance and prepared for a counter manoeuvre.

Kiyoaki clenched his teeth and twisted his aircraft, aiming to ascend toward Illia’s front.

Through the windscreen, he saw Illia descending from directly above.

As if tracing the pre-set rails, the two planes followed the same trajectory. If they were trains, a head-on collision would be unavoidable.

Illia's wings slipped out of the sights.

From those wings, bright red flames erupted.

At the moment he was shot at, Kiyoaki twisted his aircraft.

For an instant, a trail like a bullfighter’s lance pierced the outside.

The sound of the enemy aircraft’s propeller pierced Kiyoaki’s right ear.

Hearing was suddenly taken away, and a flickering light remained in the retina.

In a flash of light and the tail of an explosion, the two aircraft passed each other.

Looking down at the lower part of the aircraft, I saw Illia swiftly ascending, using her momentum. She was drawing a large diagonal trajectory, aiming for my side.

My climbing power was diminishing. The engine of the Gray Fox alone couldn’t sustain its ascent. I flipped the aircraft and started descending towards Illia.

Again, I looked up at Illia and the ocean above the canopy. The longer the air battle dragged on, the more my ability to grasp three-dimensional space weakened. I was confused about which way was up or down; my spatial awareness was in disarray.

Illia’s silhouette grew larger and larger, without allowing me a moment's respite. It’s generally said that women have better G-tolerance than men, and Illia showed no signs of fatigue despite the intense aerial manoeuvres.

— Am I going to lose?

A tremendous negative G-force struck me, as if pulling my spine out. Illia’s aircraft pushed down behind my canopy, and the ocean loomed closer.

I was about to crash into the water.

“Ugh…”

With all my might, I pulled the control stick. The Gray Fox responded as if to a prayer, barely lifting its nose to fly level at 350 meters. I hurriedly looked up, but Illia, who had just been visible, was gone.

— I lost sight of her.

The moment I realized this; I kicked the left foot bar. As my aircraft slid left, Illia’s shots tore through the position I had just occupied. If I had been even a fraction of a second slower, the battle would have been lost.

I looked back. Illia had already positioned herself above and behind me. How did she manage to take her shot? My thoughts couldn’t keep up. But I had to escape.

“Come on.”

Resolutely, I dropped my altitude to 100 meters, the absolute minimum allowed during training. The instructor’s warning came through the speaker.

“Do not drop lower. You risk touching the ocean.”

“Yes!”

I replied, but my focus remained on what was behind me. I wanted to regain altitude and counterattack, if possible, but for now, all I could do was endure. I swayed from side to side, gauging Illia’s shooting timing. Even if she was chasing me, due to both of us flying at high speed, there would be a slight delay before her bullets reached me. In that time, I could kick the foot bars to avoid them, but Illia surely knew this too.

As expected, Illia didn’t shoot right away.

She merely followed me, pretending to shoot.

She was trying to frustrate me, waiting for my stamina to drain.

As I fled at low altitude, I had to constantly glance back at the ocean, which severely drained my stamina and concentration. Illia knew that being chased put far more strain on a pilot than chasing.

— It’s not just about technique. She’s calm and clever...!

I knew this, but actually going head-to-head made me realize Illia’s brilliance anew. In a few years, she could very well stand alongside Akmed and Karnasion as the King of aerial combat in the archipelago.

— But.

I twisted my body as much as I could, enduring the pain while glaring behind me. Illia was closely observing me as she followed from above and behind. If I got flustered and lifted my aircraft, I would be taken down on the spot.

— I won’t give up.

— Shoot me.

If I could read her shooting timing, I could escape this predicament. Until I figured that out, I would endure — and just then, Illia’s wings glimmered.

In that instant, I kicked the right foot bar.

Into the sliding gap, special ammunition streamed forth.

In a split second, Illia’s second shot pierced through the airspace.

I kicked the left foot bar. The bullets grazed by as they passed.

I looked back at Illia. She was closing in, having adjusted her aim to the point where she could shoot accurately. She intended to finish the fight here.

In that moment when her wings shone — I increased my speed and slightly pulled back on the control stick.

Every one of Illia’s arrows passed under my aircraft and plunged into the ocean.

I ascended diagonally to the left. Illia was pursuing, but because I had leaned slightly forward during the shot, her pursuit was delayed just enough.

— I’ve got it!

Excitement surged through every cell in my body. I had captured the timing of Illia’s ascent by mere milliseconds. From here, I could move into a dogfight.

The speaker crackled.

“Five minutes remaining.”

It seemed that fifteen minutes had passed since the air battle began. I was surprised that so much time had flown by, and I turned my wings. I aimed for Illia’s tail, twisting my aircraft.

Ilia also adjusted her position. In a manner reminiscent of fighting dogs, we chased each other’s tails, a dogfight that looked exactly as it should in February’s sky. In a normal fight, we would be flipping through the air repeatedly, but Illia didn’t draw a perfect circle. She aimed for an even smaller turning radius, drawing elliptical aerial manoeuvres in all directions. To keep up, I had to aim for an even smaller radius, creating a bizarre pattern of overlapping ellipses in the blue sky.

“Ugh...”

I endured the pain, straining my eyes to follow the silhouette before me, determined to stay with Illia.

— Don’t let her get away.

This was a level of flight I had never attempted before. Spins, stalls, and aerial disintegration, even crashing into the ground or sea were all possibilities. But if I fled out of fear, I would be shot down the next moment. There was no way to win against Illia without challenging the unknown.

— Stay with Illia.

It felt as if I were being pulled by a stage dancer, stepping into unknown movements during the aerial battle. I used every piloting skill I had, with no time to think.

My body and mind pushed beyond their limits; I squeezed every ounce of oxygen from my cells to keep Illia in my sights.

My thoughts began to falter. My brain function groaned. Perhaps due to oxygen deprivation, the pain began to fade gradually.

At that moment — I suddenly recalled a conversation I had overheard between my parents.

Shortly after my father’s friend’s funeral, a drunken Masaharu had spoken to my mother.

“Unprecedented aerial manoeuvres began to emerge one after another.”

Young Kiyoaki had hidden in the shadows, listening to his father speak of a past duel.

“It felt like I was dancing with Captain Karsten.”

My father, who had never spoken about aerial combat in front of the family, had let that slip just once.

“I wished this moment would never end.”

My father gazed nostalgically out the window and said:

"I understand now that I was born into this world for the duel with Captain Karsten, having left the battlefield."

For a long time, I didn’t grasp the meaning of those words. At that time, I thought my father was deeply intoxicated with grief from losing his best friend, and his words were simply sentimental.

But now…

I’m sure I’m experiencing a fraction of what my father felt during that duel with Illia. A sense that transcends worldly logic understands this.

Enduring the positive Gs, I force my eyes open.

Before I knew it, the pain had transformed from suffering into something else, something almost euphoric, seeping from my heart. My oxygen-deprived brain, gasping for breath, was likely conjuring up images unlike anything normal.

The colour of the sky was different from before.

It was a deep, vibrant blue I had never seen before.

Against that shimmering blue, Illia danced in silver.

It felt as though tiny particles of light were swirling down from around Illia, showering me.

— Illia.

The power that had laid dormant deep within my soul began to rise.

New strength surged into my limbs, which should have been at their most exhausted.

— Let’s dance.

My body, which had been screaming in agony, now craved to pursue Illia.

— There’s something ahead.

— With Illia, I can go even further beyond this airspace.

I opened the throttle.

Beyond that dreamlike blue, into a place…

— A place no one has ever reached before.

Illia, residing in my consciousness, was both a warrior of the skies and an angel.

With her wings spread wide, drawing unseen spirals, she beckoned me to the lofty heights of the sky. The purity and elegance of her dance stirred something that had long been dormant within me, awakening it.

The sentimental words of my father, which I had thought were overly emotional, became understandable beyond the logic of the ground.

— Illia.

It almost brought tears to my eyes.

I wanted to grasp Illia, dancing in the air, and pull her close to my chest.

Together, I wanted us to become one and dance freely in this sky.

Words weren’t necessary. Our flight paths, our spread wings, would convey our true feelings through the air.

— Illia feels the same way.

— Surely, she wishes this moment would never end.

“Right? Illia?”

I knew we couldn't communicate with the enemy aircraft, yet I spoke to the sky.

“Sakagami.”

As she soared high, cutting through the blue, Illia whispered that name.

The burden of deceleration and acceleration faded into thoughts I no longer comprehended. I could no longer perceive suffering as suffering.

A sense of euphoria I had never felt before suddenly emerged in the midst of my duel with Kiyoaki.

My sharpened senses, to the point where I could see the differences in air pressure, grasped everything within the battle airspace.

There was no longer any need to observe the outside through the canopy.

— I know where you are.

It felt as if I were melting into this sky along with the aircraft.

— I can hear your words.

As if I were a breeze, Kiyoaki and I danced freely through the sky.

— I can feel your wings.

My current state was likely influenced by the high altitude and rapid flight, causing effects on my brain function. It was probably a phenomenon similar to runner’s high. If I descended to the ground, this special mental state would undoubtedly dissipate.

Illia observed her own state with such calmness and surrendered to that sweet consciousness without resistance. I thought that was just fine.

— I want to keep dancing like this.

— With you.

Thoughts that I would normally shake off on the ground were now met with acceptance. After all, these were illusions conjured by my oxygen-deprived brain, and trying to eliminate them seemed futile. Instead, I wanted to indulge in this pleasantness.

— I never knew flying could be this joyous.

The painful flight that had been tormenting me transformed into joy for the very first time.

— Airplanes are not coffins.

The sky taught me that.

— Pilots are not mere particles of iron.

Tears fell.

— The sky is not a hell.

The curse of my father, which had bound me since childhood, dissolves into the clear blue as if it were nothing.

— The sky is so free and full of joy.

Illia communicates with Kiyoaki through the sky.

— Right? Kiyoaki.

Beyond the shield and the windscreen, a brilliant blue silhouette dances as if guiding Illia.

My chest burns with warmth. It’s painful yet sweet and pleasant.

What a graceful dance. What a swift and beautiful way to fly. I've never met someone who flies like this before.

— I want to keep flying with you like this forever.

I sent that prayer into the sky.

Even without words, I understood that my feelings were reaching Kiyoaki.

“Time remaining: one minute.”

The instructor’s voice reached Kiyoaki’s ears.

There’s only that much time left. This moment will end. It’s sad. It’s lonely. I want it to last forever.

But childish hopes won’t reach me. In one minute, this dance will end.

— Then, right here.

Suddenly, a thought flashed in the back of my mind.

— The technique my father used.

In the duel twenty years ago, my father Masaharu supposedly defeated Karsten Kreishmidt with the secret technique "Snake Shot." On the St Vault side, it was said that Karsten was shot down by an intervening aircraft, and it’s recorded that Kiyoaki never executed such a technique. When this was debated last August on the airship, Illia dismissed the Snake Shot as a "fantasy."

— Maybe now I can do it.

By following Illia, new techniques that I’ve never executed are emerging one after another. This is a special state; I don’t know how many times this could happen in the future.

It’s worth challenging.

Kiyoaki opened the windscreen. The parachute has been strapped on since boarding. If I fail, I can quickly deploy my parachute into the sea.

I glanced at the instrument panel to check the remaining fuel. It’s running low. I looked back to confirm Illia’s position.

I gradually increased altitude without being noticed.

Illia was coming up from below.

I increased my speed. Illia also opened her throttle.

Through the airspace, I sensed Illia’s suspicion.

This is something I’ve never shown before. Illia can’t read my intentions. That’s how it should be.

— Here it is.

Resolutely, Kiyoaki suddenly tilted the aircraft upward.

A tremendous G-force hit me.

Transitioning from straight flight to vertical ascent, the Gray Fox was met with sudden deceleration that could pop my eyeballs out.

Kiyoaki endured.

Illia was pushed forward as if she stumbled.

I couldn’t see. If I could level the aircraft again from here, I could take Illia’s back in an instant…

—

Kiyoaki’s consciousness cut off at that moment.

—

“Are you stupid…?!”

Illia turned around and yelled without thinking.

The severed left wing spun helplessly down, with the fuselage following it. Among the remnants of the Gray Fox that had broken apart in mid-air, Kiyoaki, with a yellow parachute deployed, fell limply with arms and legs stretched out.

He must have fainted from the G-force. If you suddenly tilt the aircraft while moving at over 400 kilometres per hour, that’s only natural.

“What are you doing…?”

With a dumbfounded expression, Illia watched Kiyoaki fall. It must be cold in the sea in February, yet he attempted such a reckless manoeuvre.

A patrol ship approached Kiyoaki as he fell into the sea, leaving a white trail behind.

“Lance 1 has been shot down. Congratulations, Illia. You win.”

As the instructor's voice came through, Illia finally realized Kiyoaki’s intention.

“Snake Shot…”

It was the aerial combat technique that Masaharu had claimed to have used to shoot down Karsten. It’s said that the snake rises, slamming into the enemy who stumbles forward and takes them down... but no pilot has succeeded in reality. Nearly everyone who attempted it ended up in the same situation as Kiyoaki, so in St Vault, it was dismissed as a fictional technique.

“It’s impossible.”

After watching Kiyoaki being lifted onto the ship by the approaching sailors, Illia turned her aircraft towards the airfield.

It seemed like an anticlimactic ending... yet her heartbeat didn’t settle. In fact, it became stronger.

Just a moment ago—when Kiyoaki suddenly transitioned to a steep ascent and demonstrated the Snake Shot manoeuvre.

He Lost.

He thought so.

If only his aircraft had been more resilient, if Kiyoaki's body had been strong enough to endure the forces of inertia, and if he had the experience and skills to dodge the brink of disintegration, the Snake Shot could have been executed perfectly.

“Foolish.”

As she dismissed her own thoughts, Illia returned to the skies above Air Hunt Island. The spectators were waving their hands toward the sky with expressions of joy. The St Vault people were probably cheering, while the Akitsu people were biting back their frustration.

She had no interest in how the ground would report today’s duel.

More importantly, she wanted to remember what she felt today.

The sky she hadn’t known. The flying that had always been painful since childhood had transformed into joy for the first time today.

—It’s thanks to you, Kiyoaki.

If she could, she would have liked to fly a little longer. With a heavy heart, Illia returned safely to the airfield.

Toaru Hikuushi e no Seiyaku:V2Part5

2025-11-28T02:12:41Z

QCore:

Part 13 (Part 5 of Volume 2)
The weather is not at all pleasant. I am merely continuing this life because I must go through the status of a student to achieve my goal.

The Urano special operative "Hachidori" muttered this soliloquy without justifying it to anyone, then obediently attended the academic class.

There’s no need to learn this again. I acquired all the education necessary to become an officer at the age of ten. The other students seem like fools to me, but if I display my exceptional abilities and overwhelm my surroundings, I will definitely arouse suspicion about my identity. I must discipline myself, making sure not to stand out too much while not falling too far behind, and continuously adjust the output of my abilities.

── These idiots.

The elite officer candidates look utterly foolish. I want to make all of them taste the hell that I have endured in the special operative training program. Out of the hundred selected children, only eight could survive the inhumane training that led me here. If they were thrown into that situation, none of them would survive.

── I will kill them all someday.

Continuing to repeat such curses in my mind is something I do intentionally. If I don't, I might find myself influenced by the softness of this environment.

Honestly, there are times when I occasionally envy these peers of my age.

And strangely enough, sometimes I find myself inadvertently helping them due to their complete ineptitude. When I see the grateful expressions on the faces of those I've helped, I realize that, unknowingly, I feel happy.

Every time I notice this side of myself, I hastily direct silent curses toward my surroundings to remind myself of my purpose in infiltrating this place.

── To rise through the ranks of the Urano Intelligence Division, buy back my sold home, and treat my mother.

── I want my healed mother to remember me.

Reconfirming the motivation that led me to become a special operative, Hachidori feigned focus on the boring lecture once again.

May this life continue forever.

The former heir to the Sylvanian throne attended the usual academic class, harbouring such a wish deep in her heart where no one could hear it.

Although it has been a considerable amount of time since I started living as an ordinary student, having forgotten my status, life at the Air Hunt Officer Academy is tough but also filled with many enjoyable moments. Moreover, I have made comrades with whom I shared the same oath. Lately, I remember less about my birthright, and I wish to enter society as an ordinary citizen.

However, there are still former retainers who refuse to leave me alone. It's commendable that they remain loyal to the Sylvanian royal family, even after being exiled from their territory, but to be honest, I would like to live as a plain student for a little while longer, at least until I graduate from this school.

Coincidentally, I have become one of the "Seven of Eriadore," and my former retainers are anxiously worried that my identity might be revealed. Among them, the Holy Knight Akmed is said to be seeking my audience with the consent of my guardians. During the invasion of Urano, Akmed protected me and broke through enemy lines, ensuring that the blood of the Sylvanian royal family would continue to the next generation. He likely wishes to confirm with his own eyes how the faint hope that was left has grown.

I like Akmed. I am alive here thanks to him. If I were just an ordinary officer candidate, I would surely be thrilled to welcome the visit of the famed "King of the Skies."

However, as the heir to the throne, I honestly wish he would not come here. If Akmed, known as the "King of the Skies," were to visit the school, he would undoubtedly attract unwanted attention. If he were to kneel before me in front of everyone, I would surely not be able to escape unnecessary scrutiny.

Fortunately, Akmed's visit is said to be after the winter break. Before then, I should arrange to meet him somewhere discreetly, away from others. There’s no need for him to kneel in front of me on the throne; just showing my face in the back garden of the student dormitory to reassure him should keep him quiet for a while. While it may seem cruel to someone who has come all this way to visit, I have a life I wish to cherish. I don’t want the happiness I’ve built up as an ordinary student to be destroyed by my former retainers. As I indulge in such foolish thoughts in my heart, the heir to the throne resumed concentrating on the lecture with a nonchalant expression.

Wings cut through the air, turning it white.

With a creaking right turn, thin lines of steam flowed into the December blue sky.

Beyond the windscreen, the silver shadow of the fleeing enemy aircraft.

As speed increased, so did the vibrations. The target in the sight moved up and down, left and right. Amidst the vibrations, I cautiously operated the controls, trying to catch up to the enemy aircraft fleeing at over 400 kilometres per hour.

── Am I going to kill an unknown person?

── Am I flying in this sky to kill people?

The familiar whispers stroked Kiyoaki Akira's mind.

His finger, poised over the trigger, trembled.

In that instant, Kiyoaki envisioned the faces of his deceased family over the enemy aircraft in his sights.

His parents, who died as decoys to protect their child from gunfire.

His sister, who hugged him tightly and died using her life as a shield.

The people he couldn’t protect, who would never return.

── If I don't shoot down this enemy, the important people will be lost.

── I don’t want to kill. But the world is cruel. I can't live on ideals alone.

── To ensure I never lose important people again.

At that moment, another important person’s smile overlapped with that of his parents and sister.

Someone very dear to him, living in this moment.

If it’s to protect this person, I can shoot down the enemy.

── Mio.

I could shoot down dozens, even hundreds, without hesitation.

── If I don't shoot this enemy, Mio will be shot.

The moment he thought that, Kiyoaki pulled the trigger.

The fired special round shot straight and dyed the enemy aircraft's tail red.

The speaker announced.

“Arrow 1, shot down. Lance 1 wins.”

Kiyoaki exhaled as he looked down at the runway below.

With this, it made six consecutive wins since the day before yesterday. He felt like he wanted to have one more match today. As his ranking rose, his pride also grew, and the way others viewed him was changing.

He put the training aircraft, Gray Fox, into the hangar, reported today’s achievements to the control tower, and returned to the group of air force students gathered by the runway.

“You’ve really changed lately. Has something good happened?”

Approaching with a light wave was Kagura. As her friendly smile got closer, he stared intently into Kiyoaki’s eyes.

“Did you get a girlfriend?”

“Your face is too close. It’s not that.”

“Good. But it really looks like a sleeping lion has awakened. The top ranks are wary of you.”

“I'll do my best. But there’s still a gap with the top ranks…”

“I think today’s results will put you in the top twenty. A match with me or Balthazar should be coming soon.”

Currently, Balthazar was in second place, and Kagura had recently climbed to sixth. As the end of the year approached, matches between the top ranks would start to be organized. The truly tough battles would begin from here.

The upperclassmen, who were in the top ranks, cast sidelong glances at Kiyoaki. He could feel the wariness in the air. With the third-year Illia at the top, the upperclassmen wouldn't take kindly to Kiyoaki climbing the ranks further.

As Kagura looked up at the aerial combat above, she spoke.

"Did you hear? During the final battle, Knight Akmed is supposed to visit our school to observe mock aerial combat. I have no idea what his purpose is... but surely he's not trying to recruit officer candidates for Valkyrie."

This was the first time hearing this. Kiyoaki couldn't hide his surprise.

"Master Akmed is coming here?!"

"Baltha heard it from the principal. It seems Akmed himself was eager for the visit. Judging by that, it's probably not for you..."

"I haven't seen my master for about five years, and I'm just calling him master on my own. I doubt he even thinks of me as his disciple... He won't come just to see me."

"Hmm. It feels suspicious. The King of Aerial Assault crossing the seas just to visit this remote island... It's enough to make one wonder about his intentions."

The aerial mercenary unit "Valkyrie" is the world's strongest combat squad, formed by Akmed, who gathered elite ace pilots from around the world. Sponsored by small countries in the Multi-Island Sea and emerging financial groups that do not fall under Urano's influence, they traverse aerial battlefields worldwide as an independent combat organization, including support operations. However, the condition is that they must fight against Urano; they supposedly do not even make contact with enemies affiliated with Urano. Rumour has it they maintain the organization solely to eventually restore the Sylvanian royal family.

"The tale of a presumed dead heir escaping into the city and surviving is the stuff of national legends. There are rumours that during the fall of Santos Island, Akmed fought through enemy lines to protect the heir. Perhaps one of our students is the heir, hidden among us."

"No way. Kagura, you're surprisingly romantic."

When Kiyoaki joked, Kagura suddenly shot him a sly glance.

"I'm a romantic. The one I care about never notices."

Kagura gently placed her pinky under Kiyoaki's chin, lifting his face. Up close, her expression, usually so masculine, bore a feminine charm.

Kiyoaki's face turned beet red.

"W-What? Stop joking! I can't handle that kind of thing!"

He hurriedly turned away, and in an instant, Kagura dropped the flirtation and smiled sweetly.

"Yes, that’s quite adorable. I hope you stay just like that."

"Please take it easy... I might get killed by your fans."

"That sounds nice. Kagura, let me do that too."

Before he knew it, Reiner had appeared beside him, grinning as he teased.

"I refuse. I have no interest in a dirty boy."

"That's harsh. I'm pure white!"

"A boy who spends every weekend picking up girls at the clubhouse can't be pure white."

"No, no, I’m definitely clean. I haven't gotten involved with anyone. By the way, Kiyoaki, you've been impressive lately; did you get a girlfriend?"

"Why does everyone keep saying that? It's not like that. I’ve just managed to prepare myself to shoot down opponents."

"Oh really? What’s the mindset?"

"I won't say because it's embarrassing. You, Reiner, have been doing well lately too."

"Well, my biorhythm is on the upswing. I'm riding a good wave lately."

Just like Kiyoaki, Reiner has been winning more often than tying lately. It wouldn't be surprising if he broke into the top ten soon. Even though it looks like he's just playing around, Reiner's abilities are indeed very high, as shown by his results in both piloting and navigation.

"I can't lose now. Want to face off against me next?"

As Kiyoaki challenged him with a fierce gaze, Reiner let out a strange noise and shrugged.

"I think I’ll pass. It feels too intense. I’ll do it if the instructor orders it, but I don’t want to fight someone I know I’ll lose to."

Easily brushing him off, he looked up at the blue sky. It was Illia who was engaged in a two-on-two formation aerial battle.

"You want to do that, right? From what I can see, you're probably the only one who can compete with Illia right now."

As if in response to those words, Illia shot down the enemy aircraft with manoeuvres that could rival a regular aerial officer's dogfight (where both sides approach head-on and fire at each other while passing). She executed a slow roll to evade the pursuit of the second enemy, and in a battle reminiscent of an ant's hell, she drew the enemy into a horizontal turn, gaining their back on the second spin.

"She’s getting stronger every day. I’d like to see what happens when she’s unleashed on the battlefield. Competing with Akmed and Karnasion might not be a dream after all."

Without waiting for the end of his words, Illia painted the enemy's right-wing red. As Reiner said, Illia was gaining experience and strength with each mock battle. She might one day challenge the two aerial kings of the current multi-island sea: "Akmed of Valkyrie" and "Karnasion of Urano."

── I want to catch up to Illia quickly...

Longing for that, Kiyoaki looked up at Illia flying in an empty sky. He felt he had gotten a little closer recently, but Illia was also growing at quite a pace. Through daily training in the swordsmanship club, she seemed to be discovering something new. Her distance management and tactics with enemy aircraft had progressed significantly compared to the beginning. The back that was just coming into view could disappear into the heights again if he let his guard down even a little.

"The climax is finally approaching after winter break, with more matchups among the upper ranks. It would be great if you could show off in front of Master Akmed."

Kagura murmured as she gazed up at the same sky. Completely forgotten, it dawned on him that winter break started the day after tomorrow. Kagura, Cecil, Mio, and Illia would spend the fifteen-day break in their hometowns, while Baltha planned to use his saved wages for a trip to the Vestelant continent. Among the seven, only Kiyoaki and Reiner would remain in the dormitory. With no family waiting for him and no hometown, Kiyoaki felt a bit lonely but was grateful that Reiner was there.

"Yes. I’ll be training here over winter break. So I can beat Illia."

He declared resolutely to Kagura’s profile, and the talented woman smiled refreshingly in support.

The Imperial Capital, Selfaust.

This metropolis, which has nearly a thousand years of history as the capital of the St Vault Empire, has seen its three million citizens invigorated by the long-awaited war since the outbreak against the Hydrabard Federation three months ago.

Such a grand war hadn’t occurred since the "Multi-Island War" fought against the Akitsu Federation nearly twenty years ago. The war named the "Hydrabard Campaign" is a major invasion operation allied with the Akitsu Federation, the former enemy. With the market capitalism entering a saturation phase and the closed economic situation needing to be broken, it was essential for the St Vault Empire to seek new capital and interests. The quickest way to achieve this was to seize from their neighbours. It was barbaric, but without doing so, they would lose in the struggle for supremacy against the Harmonia Empire to the north and the Zunjin Dynasty to the east, creating a three-way conflict. To avoid being devoured by the strong, they would devour the weak—this was the natural national policy in the world ruled by imperialism.

Until now, the St Vault Empire had been unable to expand into the multi-island sea due to fear of the northeastern strong nation, the Harmonia Empire. The border with the Zunjin Dynasty was separated by a steep mountain range, so there was no concern there, but the border with Harmonia was unclear, merely a vast plain claimed by both sides. The reason they could finally embark on a full-scale invasion of the multi-island sea was largely due to the completion of the "Kukuana Line," which secures the entire lengthy border with Harmonia. The Kukuana Army Headquarters, which designed it, boasted that "not even a fly could pass" through this massive complex of trenches, bunkers, and concrete barriers, making a ground invasion by Harmonia very difficult. With the Kukuana Line protecting their rear and eliminating concerns, the St Vault Empire finally moved towards their long-cherished goal of "conquering the multi-island sea north and south."

Illia Kreischmidt stepped off the platform at Selfaust Central Station, buried her mouth in her scarf, and pulled her wheeled suitcase behind her as she walked down the main street, breathing out white puffs of air.

The town was dull and gray. The main heating fuel was coal, and by the end of December, the sky was always polluted with smoke from chimneys. Wearing a bright-coloured coat would make the dirt stand out, so everyone on the street was wrapped in black or gray overcoats, walking with slightly hunched backs to avoid inhaling too much of the polluted air.

Soon, she arrived at the tram station. As she stood in line with a dozen citizens, a heavy tram arrived, packed with passengers even on the roof. Paying the fare of 2 pesos, Illia received help from the other passengers to sit on the roof, gazing blankly at the flowing stone, tile, and concrete buildings in front of her.

Balloons floated beyond the row of department stores, advertising for new recruits. Military officers in uniforms were using megaphones to urge passing youths to enlist and fight for their country. Whether it was the patriotic fervour being stirred or a desire for stable employment, many young people were lining up to enlist.

── Am I going to lead those kinds of people into battle once I leave school?

Sitting on the roof of the tram, Illia pondered this. If she graduated from the officer school, she would be in a position to give orders to non-commissioned officers and soldiers older than herself. Watching the cheerful faces of seemingly carefree youths, she felt anxious about whether she could joyfully send them into battle to face death. Most of the conversations among the passengers were about the Hydrabard Campaign, filled with rumours about the upcoming major operations.

After swaying for about an hour on the slower-than-a-car tram, the number of passengers decreased, and there were now empty seats in the cabin. The roof passengers rushed into the warm interior, but Illia stayed on the roof, raised the collar of her plain black coat, and extended her long, slender legs into the air, looking at the townscape of Selfaust.

Ilia had disembarked in a suburban residential area.

The desolate shopping district had few stores still open, and passersby were sparse. The fading daylight illuminated the decaying signs and closed shutters with a dazzling bronze hue. Dragging her suitcase along, Illia stopped in front of a bakery.

Though the shop looked old and worn, it was still in business. On the shelves, a few leftover breads were marked down. After hesitating for a moment, Illia entered the store.

An elderly woman scratching a cat's back behind the counter looked up, surprised to see Illia.

"My goodness, isn’t that Illia! Have you come back?"

Illia maintained a stiff expression as she greeted the bakery owner.

"Yes. I’m back for the winter break from the officer school."

"Oh, that's nice! Your father will surely be happy. He’s been looking so lonely all by himself..."

"Yes. Um, about my father..."

She hesitated, her voice trailing off. The bent old woman, with an expression that seemed to understand everything, said:

"He's doing fine, really fine. Another war just started recently, and it seems like some people are coming by to visit him, so he's okay. As for food, we’re here for that."

"Yes. Thank you so much. Um... I hope it's not a bother..."

"We're so used to it by now, it's nothing. If anything, we’d feel anxious if he weren't here. The ones who complain are the newcomers, so you don’t need to worry about that."

"...I’m terribly sorry... I really appreciate everything. You’ve been taking care of him for so long..."

"It’s fine, it’s fine. It’s nothing at this point. Just leave it to us, from now on too. We're like family now anyway."

The old woman’s words warmed Illia’s heart. Just like she said, the owner of this bakery had been looking after Illia since she was a child, practically like a real mother. Illia wished she could express her gratitude more through words or expressions, but she was terribly bad at things like that. Feeling frustrated, she bought all the leftover bread as a small token of appreciation.

"You didn’t need to do that, really."

"No, there’s likely nothing at home. It’s a big help."

"You always liked donuts, right? I’ve kept some for you, just wait a moment."

Without giving her a chance to refuse, the shopkeeper disappeared into the back and soon returned with colourful donuts in a plastic bag.

"Your father must like them too. Strawberry, almond, and, um, lemon cream. Take them home."

She forced them into Illia's hands. It would be rude to refuse too much, so Illia graciously accepted.

"…I'm sorry. Thank you very much. My father will be pleased."

Illia lied. In truth, her father hated being reminded of her mother. The donuts from this shop were her mother's favourite, so she couldn't show them to her father.

After a while of exchanging pleasantries with the bakery owner, Illia confirmed once more that her father wasn’t causing trouble in the neighbourhood before leaving the bakery and heading home.

As the sun set and the redness faded from the western sky, she arrived at a house slightly detached from the surrounding homes.

It was an old two-story building like any other. The front yard, overrun with weeds, had a rusty bicycle and flowerless pots scattered around, giving no sign of habitation.

She pressed the doorbell. No one answered. Unlocking the front door, she stepped into the dark house, where the musty smell of liquor filled the air.

"I’m home."

When she turned on the living room light, her one-armed father was slumped over the table, sleeping. Beside him lay an empty whiskey bottle. Illia maintained her expressionless demeanour as she went upstairs, placing her belongings in her room, which contained only a bed, a table, and a bookshelf. She took a blanket back down and draped it over her sleeping father. Since childhood, it had been Illia's routine to cover her father with a blanket while he slept at the table.

Without changing clothes, she sat down opposite her father and gazed at his sleeping face.

Karsten Kreischmidt.

Once called the "King of the Skies," he was the man who once ruled the skies of the Multi-Island Sea.

How had the father, who seemed so large and robust in his childhood, deteriorated into this withered state?

His posture, with one arm resting on his forehead as he slept, was melancholic. The right arm that once skilfully handled the control stick had been taken from him by another "King of the Skies."

"Have you returned?"

It was twenty minutes later that Karsten opened his eyes, sensing Illia's presence. He blinked his yellowed eyes wide, taking in the sight of his only daughter.

"What’s with that hair?"

"My friend insisted I grow it out."

Karsten snorted.

"Getting a bit fancy, are we?"

"Not really."

"You need to take care of it."

"My friend helps with that."

"Cut it short, then. What does a fighter pilot care about appearances?"

"…Yes."

"Are you getting paid?"

"Yes."

"Go buy some liquor."

"Yes."

Illia left the house and walked to the local liquor store. After asking the familiar owner about her father’s condition, she received a response that things were generally as usual and bought her father's favourite wine and whiskey before returning home.

"It seems the war has started."

Sipping cheap alcohol, Karsten murmured toward the empty air.

"Yes."

"It’s as I predicted. First, they’ll take down Hydrabard, then secure a foothold in the Southern Multi-Islands before crossing swords with the Akitsu Federation again. Conquering the entire Multi-Island Sea is the Empire's long-held ambition. The great Imperial Army wouldn’t continue to ally with those monkey people forever."

"…Yes."

"I saw in the newspaper. The monkeys have mixed in with Air Hunt, huh?"

He was referring to the Seven of Eriadore. The "monkeys" likely meant Illia's friends, Kiyoaki and Kagura. Illia, who had been looking down, finally looked her father in the eye for the first time today.

"The monkeys?"

"The Akitsu monkeys. You know that."

"……………………"

"What's your answer?"

"……Yes."

"What’s with that face? What don’t you like?"

"Nothing."

Illia looked down again. Having been trained since childhood to absolutely obey both physically and mentally, she trembled just from her father’s glare.

"We’ll transfer the little monkeys to our officer school to prove that the alliance is genuine to the great powers. It’s also possible they could accompany the Imperial Army as dispatched officers after graduation. How filthy. Where has the once proud and powerful Imperial Army gone?"

Karsten took a swig of whiskey. His drinking had become more careless than before; his cheeks were hollow, and he had a thick, unkempt beard. The yellowing of his eyes was more pronounced than ever.

"Father, what about dinner?"

"I don’t need it."

"Wouldn’t it be better to eat something?"

"You’ve become quite bold with your words. I said I don’t need it."

"I overstepped."

The whiskey bottle was empty. Karsten immediately uncorked the wine.

"I hear the son of Sakagami Masaharu is in the same aviation department."

He must have seen it in the newspaper. That was already covered in various newspapers and magazines in an amusing manner.

"…Yes."

"Did he say anything about me?"

"……………………"

Illia fell silent, pondering. She hesitated to share the truth about Kiyoaki’s one-on-one duel. The scenes in Karsten’s memory and what Kiyoaki had heard were too far apart.

"…No."

After careful consideration, she lied. If she spoke of it, it would only lead to more drinking.

"Is that true? Did he really not say anything?"

Suspicion flickered in Karsten’s yellowed eyes as he peered at Illia. It felt as though he could see right through her, and Illia instinctively looked down.

"…I spoke about it a little."

The truth slipped out before she could stop it. She scolded herself for being so weak.

"Oh? What did you say? Did you apologize? Not that I would forgive him."

Karsten asked forcefully. It seemed he was quite concerned about Kiyoaki being Illia's classmate.

"It was just a brief conversation. We have no points of contact in daily life and don’t really talk."

"He? You speak as if an Akitsu person were human. I don’t care if he’s a monkey; what did the little monkey say?"

Illia desperately tried to think of an innocuous lie. But since she had never done such a thing before, she couldn’t come up with a story on the spot. All that surfaced were fragmented, unconvincing tales.

Resigned, she steeled herself. She was not the kind of person who could easily lie.

"In the Akitsu military records, it says that Sakagami Masaharu shot you down," she said honestly.

As soon as she said it, she regretted it.

—Why can’t I understand people’s feelings?

Her father’s brows furrowed, his skin pale instantly, the tiny blood vessels standing out against the whites of his eyes, and his lips quivered. She should have known this would happen.

—I've hurt my precious father, my only family.

As she felt ashamed of herself, Karsten slammed his fist on the table.

"You cowardly monkey pack!! You shameless pretenders to be human!! Bring that bastard here, and I’ll rip off his right arm and shove it up his ass!!"

His twisted expression spewed forth crude words in rapid succession. Such lowly military slang was too vulgar for his only daughter to hear. Illia closed her eyes, telling herself these were just meaningless sounds. Like thunder, they carried no meaning; this torrent of words from her father’s throat and tongue held no significance.

"I accepted the duel!! He betrayed me!! He tricked me with his companions and tore off this right arm…!!"

His angry voice had shifted to a scream. His harsh words were mixed with tears. Having lost his right arm in a duel twenty years ago, Karsten had become a body that could no longer fly, consumed by curses against the Akitsu people and Sakagami Masaharu, lost in the past, and warped his humanity.

In the records of the time, newspaper articles, and photographs, Karsten Kreischmidt appeared as the gallant ace. He loved the skies more than anyone, proudly soaring high and bravely. He was said to be a pilot who understood the respect owed to enemies, much like ancient knights. Illia did not know that version of him. The man she knew was a one-armed drunkard who scattered crude words and violently drove her mother away.

—How pitiful.

Looking at her father before her, she felt that way. No matter how harshly he was treated, or how he was forced to train her to learn nothing but about aircraft, she could not abandon this pitiful man.

And—

—I don’t want to be abandoned.

Illia herself clung to Karsten. The memories of her mother, who had left her behind, would not fade. If her father turned his back on her too, she would have nowhere to belong.

So, she endured. Until the day Karsten reflected her own image and praised her for a job well done.

"Kill the monkeys, Illia. That is why I raised you. Don’t let those lowly monkeys fly the skies. If you see a flying monkey, make sure to shoot it down with your own hands."

His eyes bloodshot, Karsten finished off the two bottles he had just bought, breathing out a stench of alcohol. Illia silently looked down, imagining herself standing in the rain without an umbrella, and continued to absorb every word from her father as if they were lifelines. If she could think of it that way, some semblance of mental peace could be maintained. With the methods she had learned since childhood, Illia spent her time during this long-awaited reunion with her father.

Karsten again collapsed onto the table, asleep. She draped a blanket over him that had fallen to the floor, then stepped out to the backyard alone.

Under a sky full of stars, the cockpit of an abandoned fighter was damp with dew.

It was a place she had grown accustomed to since she was twelve, meant for flying through a virtual hell. She removed the rain cover and climbed into the cockpit, gazing up at the stars.

The stars shone brightly in the December night sky. Their purity, living through the ages, offered solace to her tired, wilted heart.

This cockpit, left for training by Karsten, was Illia’s home. Surrounded by levers, switches, the control stick, and instruments, she had grown up in this cramped space.

Wrapping herself in the blanket she had brought from her room, she ate the donuts the old woman had given her. Her mother had often shared these with her in secret in the backyard. Perhaps there had been unpleasant or painful moments. The memory Illia had of her mother was of a sad face, stroking Illia's head while hiding away to eat donuts. The sweet, moist taste brought back the fading memories of her mother.

After finishing the donut, she sat in the cockpit, gazing at the stars.

Among the stars, her father’s curses, her mother’s sad face, Kiyoaki’s expression, and the image of Sakagami Masaharu she had heard about overlapped.

On that night during the water landing, she had placed her hand atop Kiyoaki's and gripped the throttle. The hand of the cowardly son had felt noble and gentle.

Illia could not discern what the truth was. She had come to understand that the truth of history is something that will remain eternally unknown. The testimonies of those present differed on both sides; over time, memories are rewritten, and only the facts one wishes to see eventually become the truth. It would be pointless to argue which side was correct.

—But at the very least, I want to comfort my father.

As she looked up at the stars, Illia thought this.

—If I can win against Sakagami Kiyoaki in mock aerial combat, my father will surely be pleased.

Illia closed her eyes and pulled the blanket up to her shoulders.

—He will see me for who I am now, not for past glories...

Sending her tiny wish to the stars, Illia fell asleep in the cockpit.

"Why are we riding around in a place like this with a guy on board?"

Reiner, gripping the motorcycle's handlebars, grumbled. Kiyoaki, seated behind him, held onto the seat with both hands under his rear and replied to the complaint.

"There's nothing we can do about it. Everything fun is closed."

"How lame. Everyone's probably having a good time back in the country. Lucky them."

He revved the engine, and the 250cc bike emitted a lively sound as it sped along the national highway of Air Hunt Island.

This was a used motorcycle that Reiner had bought on loan. Normally, on weekends, he would be riding with girls he picked up at the clubhouse on the back seat. But during winter break, all the students disappeared, and the clubhouse closed for the long holiday. Since students were the centre of the economy on the island, all the shops closed during the long break, leaving nowhere to play. With time on their hands, Kiyoaki and Reiner decided to go touring together.

"Stop complaining. We should be getting close, right? To Cross Cape…"

Three minutes later, after Reiner pouted, they parked the bike at the bicycle parking lot of Cross Cape, a tourist spot on Air Hunt Island. Reiner often came to this cape with girls.

"It's sunset. How romantic. Ugh."

After taking off his helmet and looking up at the sky, Reiner made a distorted face.

"And there's no one else here. Just the two of us, Reiner."

"Stop joking. I wish at least Mio or Cecil were here."

At the end of December, the sun cast its slanted light across the hard, frozen blue sky. They exchanged light banter as they walked together to the edge of the cape.

Far below, a rocky outcrop jutted into the sea, curiously carved in the shape of a cross, with seawater seeping into it. This cape was named after the cross that could be seen from above. It was said that if you threw a one-peso coin into the cross, your wishes would come true.

Looking to the north of the cross, Kiyoaki spotted Air Hunt Port clearly about ten kilometres away. From here, the three docks and the ships entering and exiting were clearly visible.

"A battleship's docked there. It seems the Air and Navy is already using the third dock."

"This island can't remain unrelated to the war forever. It’s tough, really."

Perhaps preparing for the upcoming invasion, military ships had begun entering Air Hunt Port. During the day, they could even see fleet manoeuvres being trained offshore from this cape. The Hydrabard Campaign was finally moving into the full-scale operational phase.

"Look over there, there's a huge battleship… I’ve never seen a battleship that big."

Two ships were docked at the pier, with a large battleship towering over the others. It was probably a new model, and Kiyoaki didn’t recognize its class. Reiner glanced at it with little interest before turning his gaze toward the sea.

The setting sun painted a vibrant contrast against the deep blue sea.

Even now, sporadic battles were occurring beyond the horizon between the Akitsu-St Vault Alliance and the Hydrabard-Urano Alliance. Once they graduated from Air Hunt, they would also be thrown into that conflict. The peaceful days they currently enjoyed would surely be something precious that would never return.

"Next year, we'll be seniors. Time flies, huh?"

"Yeah. Man, I didn’t think being at the officer academy would be such a hassle."

Reiner's familiar grumbling tone filled the air. Kiyoaki suddenly felt curious and asked somewhat hesitantly.

"Reiner, why did you want to come to Air Hunt in the first place?"

"Huh? Where’d that come from? Didn’t I say? I’m gonna serve five years in the military and then quit to become a civilian pilot. It’s much easier in a company—no life-threatening risks, and the salary is great."

"Yeah, you mentioned that before, but you’re dual majoring, right? Isn’t that aiming for promotion after joining the military?"

When he asked, Reiner's expression became somewhat bewildered as he looked at Kiyoaki for a moment.

"Uh… yeah, about that…"

clearing his throat, he gazed out at the sea with distant eyes.

"I thought it would be cooler to be dual-majoring."

Kiyoaki's knees buckled in surprise. The reason was just too trivial.

"That’s it!? You're studying twice as hard just for that!?"

To learn both navigation and piloting meant doubling the work compared to a single major. Unless aiming for future promotions, one wouldn’t typically choose a dual major course.

"Shut up. It’s whatever. It doesn’t matter. I don’t care about promotion; I’m just someone who can do a little bit of everything. I can't match you or Illia in piloting, and I can’t beat Mio or Cecil in navigation, but combining both gives me a better overall score. So I’m just competing where I can win. Don’t make me say that out loud."

Reiner was unusually defensive, rattling off his explanation in one breath. Feeling somewhat pressured by his unexpected intensity, Kiyoaki nodded in agreement.

"Yeah, I was just a bit curious. But you're right, Reiner, you're skilled enough to do anything."

"Whatever. Let’s make a wish. It probably won’t come true, but at least it’ll be comforting."

"Why so pessimistic? We’ve come all this way, so let’s believe it’ll come true. Uh, do we throw the coins…?"

Taking a one-peso coin from his wallet, Kiyoaki threw it toward the cross below, about thirty meters down. The coin veered off course and plopped uselessly into the sea.

"This is tough. I don’t think anyone can do it."

With one peso, you could buy a loaf of bread. Even if he was getting paid, it wasn’t an amount a student could just toss away. After wasting three pesos, Kiyoaki gave up on his wish.

"Look, I’ll show you how it’s done."

Reiner also tossed his coin, but it flew in an entirely different direction.

"Nice demonstration."

When Kiyoaki joked, Reiner snorted in response. He held up a second coin near his temple, took careful aim, and with the precision of a darts expert, he shot the coin down.

The coin descended diagonally through the air like a bullet, hitting the cross dead centre.

"Wow, Reiner, that’s amazing!"

Kiyoaki was taken aback and turned to Reiner, who seemed utterly nonchalant.

"I’m multi-talented."

"Hurry up and make your wish; it’ll definitely come true!"

"Shut up, I’ll do it without being told. Not that it’ll come true, though…"

Despite his words, Reiner closed his eyes, clasped his hands, and prayed to the cross over the sea.

Kiyoaki watched Reiner’s profile. The usual carefree expression was gone, replaced by a serious look he had never seen before.

—I didn’t know he could make a face like that.

He was a bit surprised. It was a sincere expression, almost desperate, something he had rarely shown in front of others.

"What did you wish for?"

When Reiner opened his eyes and asked, his usual casual demeanour returned.

"I wished to have a hundred women."

That was a lie.

Kiyoaki's intuition whispered that there was no way Reiner could make such a wish with that kind of expression.

Reiner must have been offering something much deeper—a serious wish to the cross. But if he were to ask about it, Reiner probably wouldn’t answer sincerely.

"That sounds like something Reiner would say."

"Is there really any other wish in life?"

"I'm sure there are plenty."

"What are you looking so smug for?"

Kiyoaki smiled. He had thought of Reiner as a frivolous playboy, but it seemed there was more to him than that. Even though he spouted lies, something in the depths of Reiner's heart showed through when they exchanged words, and Kiyoaki found himself drawn to it.

Though Kiyoaki had no hometown or family to return to during the winter break, he was grateful to have Reiner by his side.

"During break, there's no curfew, so let's play until morning."

"Huh? What’s that about? There’s nowhere to have fun."

"Teach me how to ride the bike. I want to try it."

"You don’t have a license. That’s dangerous."

"It’s easier than flying a plane. I’ll learn quickly; it’ll be fine."

"Why are you suddenly so eager? It’s creepy."

"Just lend me the keys. I’ve been watching how you drive, so I have a general idea. This is the gear and that’s the clutch, right?"

Getting on Reiner's bike, Kiyoaki placed his left hand on the clutch and tapped the gear shift with the toes of his left foot. Reiner, with an exasperated expression, tossed him the keys.

"If you break it, you’ll have to pay for it."

Kiyoaki smiled as he caught the keys, kicked the starter, and revved the engine. The roar of the internal combustion engine was familiar, and compared to a plane, the controls were much simpler.

"This is so fun!"

As he started to shake and wobble, Reiner heckled him.

"What’s that? You’re shifting too low!"

"Shut up, I’m doing well for my first time. Look, I’m riding it!"

With Reiner’s jibes and guidance coming from behind, Kiyoaki quickly learned to ride, and soon he had Reiner on the back seat as they cruised down the public road.

"I feel like a delinquent!!"

Exceeding the speed limit by about twenty kilometres, Kiyoaki shouted into the wind.

"You’d be a real delinquent. If they catch us, we won’t just get suspended!"

"We’re riding all night!!"

"Who are you? Do you change into a different person when you grip the handlebars? ... Don’t crash."

With a resigned look, Reiner stayed with him as Kiyoaki continued to ride around Air Hunt Island. They circled the coastal highway multiple times and climbed up a winding mountain road. Famished, they sped around until they found a diner open late, where they stuffed themselves with hamburgers and fries while chatting about nothing in particular, then enjoyed hot coffee before riding some more. Reiner grumbled the entire time but ultimately stayed with him until morning.

"Hey, Reiner."

"Huh?"

"Are you not going back home?"

Stopping the bike at the pier of Air Hunt Port, which was just beginning to redden with dawn, Kiyoaki asked as they sat on a mushroom-shaped mooring post.

"I don’t know, it’d be boring to go back. Wasting train fare, you know."

Looking at the scorched sky, Reiner sat down with his back to Kiyoaki and spoke nonchalantly.

That was a lie.

Once again, Kiyoaki’s intuition whispered to him. It was as if Reiner had predetermined his answer to such a question.

A deep feeling in Kiyoaki's chest resonated with something Reiner was hiding. From Reiner’s back against the backdrop of the dawning sky, a great loneliness radiated.

"I see. Then during winter break, I’ll play with you."

"I don’t need it."

Reiner coldly declined and looked up at the sky. The winter constellations that had been twinkling were swept away by the dawn.

— Reiner is an interesting person...

As Kiyoaki watched the reddish lead-coloured sun rise above the horizon, he thought that.

Toaru Hikuushi e no Seiyaku:V2Part8

2025-11-28T02:11:08Z

QCore:

Part 16
He kept his eyes on the enemy's tail. According to the posted formation, Arrow 1 was Illia, Arrow 2 was Balthazar, and Arrow 3 was Obando.

Spotting the aircraft marked with a "3," Kiyoaki shouted into the mic.

"Obando is on the right; we'll take him down first!"

Following the prior briefing, he pivoted to face their first target.

The Arrow formation, agile as ever, tilted its aircraft and charged straight at them. Leading the pack was, of course, Illia.

Kiyoaki banked sharply to the left, raising his nose. They were both trying to draw smaller circles than the opponent, attempting to close the distance with as tight a left turn as possible.

The enemy Arrow formation moved up towards his windscreen. Kiyoaki looked up at the approaching enemy planes. To his sides, Kagura and Reiner closely flanked him, ready to protect. The enemy also appeared to enter a horizontal turn—at least that’s what he thought.

"The enemy is losing altitude. They're trying to bring it vertical!"

Kagura relayed through the speaker. The enemy was rotating horizontally while subtly dropping in height. The previously horizontal ring gradually tilted, and then it looked as if it would stand vertically. This was likely Balthazar's strategy, having identified their vertical turn as a weakness.

"It'll be a G-force contest. Mental strength will decide the outcome; do not lose!"

"Understood!"

Kiyoaki responded to Kagura’s urgent tone.

"Especially you, Reiner! Don’t give up easily!"

"Why am I being singled out?!"

Listening to the exchanges over the speaker, Kiyoaki glared at the top of the windscreen. Flying at high speed in three-dimensional space made it difficult to sense up and down. Beyond the windscreen, the land seemed to descend from the sky, creating a bizarre view.

On the fourth rotation, the turn completely transitioned to vertical. The Arrow and Lance formations continued to chase each other's tails, rolling through the air.

With each dive, air was sucked from his lungs, and with each ascent, his weight bore down on him like a rock.

Negative Gs and positive Gs slammed against his body with both fists. If he relaxed even for a moment, his consciousness would be swept away entirely; the heavens above and the earth below intertwined in a hell of gravity and inertia. Yet both formations tore through that hell, breaking free.

Kiyoaki bent his neck back as far as possible, glaring at Illia above him. The sky and ground alternated, descending in a dizzying array around Illia. No matter how painful it became, he would never take his eyes off her. Breathless, he held his breath, the crushing weight of inertia pounding at him relentlessly. But those who succumbed to this agony would fall behind. To win in aerial combat, one must endure, endure, and endure again.

—I will never lose. I will not lose. I will not lose...

Holding onto that singular thought. Clinging tightly and not letting go. No matter how much the plus Gs battered his lungs or how the minus Gs threatened to pull his soul away, he kept his gaze fixed on Illia above.

Ilia was struggling too. Balthazar and Obando were surely gritting their teeth, both their eyes reddened as they endured the hell of gravity and inertia. The pain felt by everyone in this cockpit was equally felt by all engaged in the aerial battle. There was no way he would be the first to give in.

The clash of wills continued, keeping their vertical dance alive.

As they danced, the two formations began to unravel.

What had once been a perfect triangle at the start of the battle now morphed into a distorted shape over time.

The differences in the stamina and mental strength of each pilot were becoming evident in their formations. The least experienced were being pushed out of the dance.

—Obando is falling behind...!

Kiyoaki could see Obando in the right wing of the Arrow formation gradually slipping from the upper part of the windscreen to the front. Frustrated with the agony of continuing to fly in circles, he was likely opting for another manoeuvre. Though he had the best stamina among the six, his mental state was faltering. During aerial combat, the brain often lacks the oxygen needed for normal functioning, leading to unexpected actions. Regardless of the reason, this crack was a stroke of luck.

Kiyoaki aimed his nose toward Obando. Against the rapidly shifting sky and ground, the silhouette of the faltering aircraft began to fit into his sights.

Closing in to the point of guaranteed hits.

Obando noticed and hurriedly turned his controls to the side. The Arrow formation began to break apart dramatically, with Illia and Balthazar flipping vertically, while Obando fled horizontally. The Lance formation, sticking to their original plan, closed in on Obando's tail, pulling him into a horizontal chase.

Chasing Obando at full speed, Kiyoaki also pushed his throttle wide open. The windscreen rattled.

He was concerned about Illia, but there was no time to glance her way. Trusting that Kagura and Reiner would protect him, he focused all his attention ahead.

He locked onto the struggling silhouette of Obando.

With all emotions set aside, he placed his finger on the trigger.

Like a ritual, Kiyoaki superimposed Mio's smiling face over the enemy aircraft.

To ensure that the people he cared about would never have to experience what his parents and sister did.

To ensure that people like his parents and sister never had to face Mio.

—I will take down the enemy.

He pulled the trigger without hesitation.

The specialized round shot through the air, leaving a white trail as it lunged toward Obando.

He watched as red splashes erupted on the "3" tail.

"Arrow 3, shot down. Leave the airspace."

The announcement from the monitoring instructor's aircraft echoed through the speakers.

In that moment of relief—

"Kiyoaki, up!!"

Kagura's shout struck his ears.

He looked up.

Suddenly, a hawk was diving down, backlit by the sun.

"Illia!!"

—There’s no way to avoid it…!!

The moment when he would be most defenceless was targeted. Kiyoaki had completely exposed the upper surface of his aircraft to Illia. From her perspective, the target was large, and he couldn't shoot back. It was a beautifully executed, precise attack by Illia.

He tried to tilt his aircraft desperately, but Illia was faster.

—This is how I lose...!!

In that moment of regret, a shadow intruded between Kiyoaki and Illia.

From the corner of his right eye, he spotted the "2" on the tail.

"Kagura!!"

As soon as he shouted, red splashes scattered in the air, and Illia descended past Kiyoaki's aircraft.

"Arrow 2, shot down. Leave the airspace."

Looking down at Illia shrinking toward the ground, Kiyoaki heard the merciless voice of the instructor.

"Kagura..."

"I'm sorry, this is it. Win, Kiyoaki."

Kagura said this and turned her red-stained aircraft toward the airfield. She had been shot down by Illia, acting as Kiyoaki's shield. His own inadequacy had forced Kagura into this situation. The guilt burned in his throat.

"There's still one left!!"

Kiyoaki snapped back to reality at Reiner's yell.

He glared at the sun. A second hawk was diving down.

It wasn't just Illia. There was a second arrow.

"Ugh...!!"

Clenching his jaw, Kiyoaki flipped his aircraft and began to glide diagonally through the sky. A special round's mark grazed nearby. If Kiyoaki hadn't been yelled at by Reiner, it would have been a direct hit. He quickly scanned the area around the windscreen and saw Balthazar diving toward the ground above him.

—They’re targeting my moment of distraction.

Kiyoaki shivered, realizing Balthazar had picked up on the fact that he was using up energy in the vertical manoeuvre and was solely focused on Illia. After dodging Illia’s attack, Balthazar seized the exact moment Kiyoaki was caught off guard.

—The captain is strong...!

The combination of Illia’s raw strength and Balthazar’s cunning and calmness was truly the worst for any opponent.

Just as Kagura had said, Balthazar should be the next target after Obando. If possible, Kiyoaki wanted to create a situation where he and Reiner could team up against Illia.

"I'm targeting Arrow 2!!"

Kiyoaki announced his target to Reiner and shifted his wings. Though he was still struggling to breathe from the vertical manoeuvres, there was no time for hesitation. Illia and Balthazar were continuing their manoeuvres and fighting as well. To win in aerial combat, he had to push his body, mind, and spirit to their limits.

—Throw everything into this.

Kiyoaki encouraged himself and opened the throttle. More weight pressed on his struggling lungs, causing his body to scream. Yet he didn’t stop pursuing the enemy aircraft.

Noticing he was being pursued, Balthazar dove low. While chasing Balthazar, Kiyoaki glanced back but saw no sign of Illia.

She was probably hiding in a spot out of sight—perhaps directly behind the aircraft. However, he couldn't take his eyes off Balthazar.

Forcing his bloodshot eyes wide open, he glared solely at Balthazar.

Balthazar dropped to an altitude of one hundred fifty meters and switched to level flight. He was likely trying to dodge Kiyoaki's attacks by flying low. Dropping to that altitude required a significant level of skill from the pilot. If he faltered, he could crash to the ground, causing a major accident involving the spectators.

However, this only heightened Kiyoaki's determination. His instincts as a pilot drove him to pursue Balthazar, who was opting for a risky manoeuvre.

"I won't let you escape...!!"

He plunged down and used the momentum to latch onto Balthazar's tail. Balthazar shook his aircraft from side to side in an attempt to flee, but Kiyoaki quickly closed the distance.

—I've taken his tail easily.

There was no way Balthazar, known for his cunning, would resort to such an easy escape.

—It's a trap.

Kiyoaki’s instincts whispered to him. Illia was undoubtedly targeting him from behind. However, he couldn’t ignore Balthazar.

—Even if it’s a trap, I’ll keep pursuing.

—Because I have Reiner.

To break Balthazar’s trap, he had no choice but to rely on his teammates.

With a raspy voice, Reiner strained to speak into the mic.

"Illia...!!"

It was difficult to get that much out. Perhaps Reiner was struggling with the same burdens; there was no response from her. Yet he believed that just those words would convey his intention to Reiner as he concentrated on Balthazar.

The gathered spectators below looked like a colourful mosaic. He flew past them in an instant, with Balthazar slithering away like a sea snake. Kiyoaki did not ease up on his pursuit for even a moment. Veins bulged at his temples as he grit his teeth, locking onto Balthazar.

But then—

"Watch out!!"

Reiner's shout reverberated through the speakers.

At the same time, Kiyoaki kicked the right footbar.

His aircraft slipped sharply to the side, and a barrage of special rounds flooded toward him.

Looking back, he saw Illia, just about to fire another shot aimed at him. In front, Balthazar turned left. He was likely planning to escape in that opening.

—Not if I can help it...!!

Focusing entirely on Balthazar, Kiyoaki tilted the control stick left and lifted the nose, enduring the approaching inertia while calling out to his reliable partner.

"Reiner!!"

"I got it...!!"

As Kiyoaki continued, Illia pursued him from further behind.

Just as Kiyoaki focused on Balthazar, Illia concentrated on him. Reiner, at the back, aimed to take advantage of Illia’s momentary lapse.

—Reiner, take her down...!!

He prayed but had no time to check behind him. The instructor's voice did not come through the speakers. All he could see in the corner of his vision was Illia dodging Reiner's shots with a swift sideways manoeuvre.

Illia was pulling away. Reiner was chasing. Balthazar, pressed by Kiyoaki, fled in the opposite direction from Illia. Kiyoaki entrusted Reiner with dealing with Illia and pursued Balthazar.

The surface of Air Hunt Island disappeared, and in an instant, the view below turned blue. They had reached the sea. A ten-kilometre radius around Air Hunt Island was designated as the combat area; leaving it meant an immediate loss. Balthazar was flying close to the edge of this boundary. If Kiyoaki got too caught up in the chase, he risked leaving the area himself.

—What a sneaky move...!

He had anticipated that he couldn't win against Kiyoaki's skills. It was a cunning but undeniably tricky tactic. After coming this far, he couldn't afford to lose out of bounds.

Balthazar flew enticingly close to the boundary line of the ocean. Above them, an instructor’s large aircraft monitored the mock aerial battle. The moment it was deemed out of bounds, the speakers would sound off. Kiyoaki couldn't pursue below.

He observed Balthazar's piloting. How was he keeping track of the ten-kilometre zone? He made educated guesses based on his flying.

—He’s only making right turns. He has to do that to keep track of the airspace.

—The captain must be judging the approximate distance by the shape of the island.

—Don’t make wide turns. If I stick closely behind, I can win.

There wasn't a clearly marked boundary in the sky. If he strayed too far outside the designated area, the instructor would surely stop him, but they would likely overlook slight deviations. What was essential was not to be shaken by Balthazar's psychological tactics; that was the only thing that mattered.

Determined, Kiyoaki increased his speed.

He closed the distance to Balthazar. At this point, Balthazar finally challenged him to a horizontal manoeuvre. Perhaps he was reading Kiyoaki’s fear of going out of bounds, and he engaged in a dogfight right at the edge of the designated airspace.

—Don’t be afraid.

Without hesitation, Kiyoaki accepted the challenge. If he let the fear of losing out of bounds stop him, Balthazar would gain the upper hand. As long as he turned tighter than the enemy, he couldn’t lose. He should only focus on that; there was no room for other doubts.

—Don’t get heated. Stay calm.

He reminded himself. Balthazar's aim was to provoke his opponent and make them lose their composure. He couldn't fall into that trap.

At an altitude of three hundred meters, they engaged in a low-level horizontal manoeuvre. As the fight continued, their altitude gradually decreased. If he fell too low, he would crash into the sea. But Balthazar was just as afraid. He steeled himself, keeping his eyes locked on the silhouette above him.

Kiyoaki was worried about Illia. However, he had no room to divert his gaze. He believed Reiner was keeping Illia in check, and on the third rotation, Kiyoaki focused the sights on Balthazar.

Current altitude: one hundred fifty meters. It was a dangerously low flight for a candidate. If Balthazar lifted his nose, the upper surface of his aircraft would fill the sights, and that would mean victory for Kiyoaki—but Balthazar continued to fly low. He was trying to shake off Kiyoaki by swerving left and right without fear of crashing into the ocean.

—He's not just cunning. He’s bold and brave...!

Kiyoaki had long understood that he couldn’t measure up to Balthazar in theoretical knowledge, but there was something noteworthy about his piloting skills. The aircraft currently in his sights belonged to someone who would be remembered in history as a great commander or strategist. Holding that thought, Kiyoaki imposed Mio's smiling face over it.

"Arrow 2, shot down. Leave the airspace."

With his tail marked "2" stained bright red, Balthazar effortlessly withdrew from the battlefield. It was as if he were saying he had fulfilled his role.

Kiyoaki turned his gaze back.

—Now, only Illia remains...!

It would be great to battle Illia with Reiner by his side. But where was Illia...?

In an instant, Kiyoaki scanned the entire airspace and spotted them.

High above Air Hunt Island, about three thousand five hundred meters up, two silhouettes were tangled together.

Reiner was desperately fleeing, while Illia relentlessly pursued her.

"Reiner!!"

He shouted, flipping his wings and heading straight for her. But by the time he realized it, victory was already on the line. Illia unleashed a precise shot at Reiner, who struggled to keep her aircraft upright.

"Arrow 3, shot down. Leave the airspace."

As Kiyoaki finally returned to the sky above Air Hunt Island, the speakers sounded off.

"You’ve stuck it out till now; you better be grateful."

Reiner’s nonchalant voice reached him. While he was chasing Balthazar, Reiner had taken on Illia's pursuit as bait. Kiyoaki expressed his gratitude.

"Yeah, thanks, Reiner."

"Win for me. For my score."

"I know. I won’t waste your efforts."

"Stop it. That's too mushy."

Ignoring the teasing tone, Kiyoaki fixed his gaze on Illia, who was soaring toward the zenith.

From here on, it would be a one-on-one fight.

Illia, who had seemed so far out of reach, now spread her wings in the same airspace as Kiyoaki. She was aiming for him.

—Let’s settle this, Illia.

He surrendered to the surging emotions and opened the throttle. Illia, realizing he was coming for her, began to gain altitude.

In aerial combat with aircraft of the same performance, the one at a higher altitude held the advantage. Kiyoaki pulled the control stick back, but since Illia started at a higher position, they would engage with a difference of about five hundred meters in altitude.

The horizontal distance shrank to less than one thousand meters. Current altitude: two thousand two hundred meters. Illia, from about two thousand seven hundred, twisted her aircraft.

A silver silhouette descended diagonally from above like a hawk. With both using the same engine to ascend, there would be a significant energy difference.

—Don’t dodge. Go straight in.

His instincts whispered. Rather than initiating a circular manoeuvre, he wanted to set up a position where they would pass each other.

Illia noticed his intentions. Instantly, she corrected her stance and prepared for a counter manoeuvre.

Kiyoaki clenched his teeth and twisted his aircraft, aiming to ascend toward Illia’s front.

Through the windscreen, he saw Illia descending from directly above.

As if tracing the pre-set rails, the two planes followed the same trajectory. If they were trains, a head-on collision would be unavoidable.

Illia's wings slipped out of the sights.

From those wings, bright red flames erupted.

At the moment he was shot at, Kiyoaki twisted his aircraft.

For an instant, a trail like a bullfighter’s lance pierced the outside.

The sound of the enemy aircraft’s propeller pierced Kiyoaki’s right ear.

Hearing was suddenly taken away, and a flickering light remained in the retina.

In a flash of light and the tail of an explosion, the two aircraft passed each other.

Looking down at the lower part of the aircraft, I saw Illia swiftly ascending, using her momentum. She was drawing a large diagonal trajectory, aiming for my side.

My climbing power was diminishing. The engine of the Gray Fox alone couldn’t sustain its ascent. I flipped the aircraft and started descending towards Illia.

Again, I looked up at Illia and the ocean above the canopy. The longer the air battle dragged on, the more my ability to grasp three-dimensional space weakened. I was confused about which way was up or down; my spatial awareness was in disarray.

Illia’s silhouette grew larger and larger, without allowing me a moment's respite. It’s generally said that women have better G-tolerance than men, and Illia showed no signs of fatigue despite the intense aerial manoeuvres.

— Am I going to lose?

A tremendous negative G-force struck me, as if pulling my spine out. Illia’s aircraft pushed down behind my canopy, and the ocean loomed closer.

I was about to crash into the water.

“Ugh…”

With all my might, I pulled the control stick. The Gray Fox responded as if to a prayer, barely lifting its nose to fly level at 350 meters. I hurriedly looked up, but Illia, who had just been visible, was gone.

— I lost sight of her.

The moment I realized this; I kicked the left foot bar. As my aircraft slid left, Illia’s shots tore through the position I had just occupied. If I had been even a fraction of a second slower, the battle would have been lost.

I looked back. Illia had already positioned herself above and behind me. How did she manage to take her shot? My thoughts couldn’t keep up. But I had to escape.

“Come on.”

Resolutely, I dropped my altitude to 100 meters, the absolute minimum allowed during training. The instructor’s warning came through the speaker.

“Do not drop lower. You risk touching the ocean.”

“Yes!”

I replied, but my focus remained on what was behind me. I wanted to regain altitude and counterattack, if possible, but for now, all I could do was endure. I swayed from side to side, gauging Illia’s shooting timing. Even if she was chasing me, due to both of us flying at high speed, there would be a slight delay before her bullets reached me. In that time, I could kick the foot bars to avoid them, but Illia surely knew this too.

As expected, Illia didn’t shoot right away.

She merely followed me, pretending to shoot.

She was trying to frustrate me, waiting for my stamina to drain.

As I fled at low altitude, I had to constantly glance back at the ocean, which severely drained my stamina and concentration. Illia knew that being chased put far more strain on a pilot than chasing.

— It’s not just about technique. She’s calm and clever...!

I knew this, but actually going head-to-head made me realize Illia’s brilliance anew. In a few years, she could very well stand alongside Akmed and Karnasion as the King of aerial combat in the archipelago.

— But.

I twisted my body as much as I could, enduring the pain while glaring behind me. Illia was closely observing me as she followed from above and behind. If I got flustered and lifted my aircraft, I would be taken down on the spot.

— I won’t give up.

— Shoot me.

If I could read her shooting timing, I could escape this predicament. Until I figured that out, I would endure — and just then, Illia’s wings glimmered.

In that instant, I kicked the right foot bar.

Into the sliding gap, special ammunition streamed forth.

In a split second, Illia’s second shot pierced through the airspace.

I kicked the left foot bar. The bullets grazed by as they passed.

I looked back at Illia. She was closing in, having adjusted her aim to the point where she could shoot accurately. She intended to finish the fight here.

In that moment when her wings shone — I increased my speed and slightly pulled back on the control stick.

Every one of Illia’s arrows passed under my aircraft and plunged into the ocean.

I ascended diagonally to the left. Illia was pursuing, but because I had leaned slightly forward during the shot, her pursuit was delayed just enough.

— I’ve got it!

Excitement surged through every cell in my body. I had captured the timing of Illia’s ascent by mere milliseconds. From here, I could move into a dogfight.

The speaker crackled.

“Five minutes remaining.”

It seemed that fifteen minutes had passed since the air battle began. I was surprised that so much time had flown by, and I turned my wings. I aimed for Illia’s tail, twisting my aircraft.

Ilia also adjusted her position. In a manner reminiscent of fighting dogs, we chased each other’s tails, a dogfight that looked exactly as it should in February’s sky. In a normal fight, we would be flipping through the air repeatedly, but Illia didn’t draw a perfect circle. She aimed for an even smaller turning radius, drawing elliptical aerial manoeuvres in all directions. To keep up, I had to aim for an even smaller radius, creating a bizarre pattern of overlapping ellipses in the blue sky.

“Ugh...”

I endured the pain, straining my eyes to follow the silhouette before me, determined to stay with Illia.

— Don’t let her get away.

This was a level of flight I had never attempted before. Spins, stalls, and aerial disintegration, even crashing into the ground or sea were all possibilities. But if I fled out of fear, I would be shot down the next moment. There was no way to win against Illia without challenging the unknown.

— Stay with Illia.

It felt as if I were being pulled by a stage dancer, stepping into unknown movements during the aerial battle. I used every piloting skill I had, with no time to think.

My body and mind pushed beyond their limits; I squeezed every ounce of oxygen from my cells to keep Illia in my sights.

My thoughts began to falter. My brain function groaned. Perhaps due to oxygen deprivation, the pain began to fade gradually.

At that moment — I suddenly recalled a conversation I had overheard between my parents.

Shortly after my father’s friend’s funeral, a drunken Masaharu had spoken to my mother.

“Unprecedented aerial manoeuvres began to emerge one after another.”

Young Kiyoaki had hidden in the shadows, listening to his father speak of a past duel.

“It felt like I was dancing with Captain Karsten.”

My father, who had never spoken about aerial combat in front of the family, had let that slip just once.

“I wished this moment would never end.”

My father gazed nostalgically out the window and said:

"I understand now that I was born into this world for the duel with Captain Karsten, having left the battlefield."

For a long time, I didn’t grasp the meaning of those words. At that time, I thought my father was deeply intoxicated with grief from losing his best friend, and his words were simply sentimental.

But now…

I’m sure I’m experiencing a fraction of what my father felt during that duel with Illia. A sense that transcends worldly logic understands this.

Enduring the positive Gs, I force my eyes open.

Before I knew it, the pain had transformed from suffering into something else, something almost euphoric, seeping from my heart. My oxygen-deprived brain, gasping for breath, was likely conjuring up images unlike anything normal.

The colour of the sky was different from before.

It was a deep, vibrant blue I had never seen before.

Against that shimmering blue, Illia danced in silver.

It felt as though tiny particles of light were swirling down from around Illia, showering me.

— Illia.

The power that had laid dormant deep within my soul began to rise.

New strength surged into my limbs, which should have been at their most exhausted.

— Let’s dance.

My body, which had been screaming in agony, now craved to pursue Illia.

— There’s something ahead.

— With Illia, I can go even further beyond this airspace.

I opened the throttle.

Beyond that dreamlike blue, into a place…

— A place no one has ever reached before.

Illia, residing in my consciousness, was both a warrior of the skies and an angel.

With her wings spread wide, drawing unseen spirals, she beckoned me to the lofty heights of the sky. The purity and elegance of her dance stirred something that had long been dormant within me, awakening it.

The sentimental words of my father, which I had thought were overly emotional, became understandable beyond the logic of the ground.

— Illia.

It almost brought tears to my eyes.

I wanted to grasp Illia, dancing in the air, and pull her close to my chest.

Together, I wanted us to become one and dance freely in this sky.

Words weren’t necessary. Our flight paths, our spread wings, would convey our true feelings through the air.

— Illia feels the same way.

— Surely, she wishes this moment would never end.

“Right? Illia?”

I knew we couldn't communicate with the enemy aircraft, yet I spoke to the sky.

“Sakagami.”

As she soared high, cutting through the blue, Illia whispered that name.

The burden of deceleration and acceleration faded into thoughts I no longer comprehended. I could no longer perceive suffering as suffering.

A sense of euphoria I had never felt before suddenly emerged in the midst of my duel with Kiyoaki.

My sharpened senses, to the point where I could see the differences in air pressure, grasped everything within the battle airspace.

There was no longer any need to observe the outside through the canopy.

— I know where you are.

It felt as if I were melting into this sky along with the aircraft.

— I can hear your words.

As if I were a breeze, Kiyoaki and I danced freely through the sky.

— I can feel your wings.

My current state was likely influenced by the high altitude and rapid flight, causing effects on my brain function. It was probably a phenomenon similar to runner’s high. If I descended to the ground, this special mental state would undoubtedly dissipate.

Illia observed her own state with such calmness and surrendered to that sweet consciousness without resistance. I thought that was just fine.

— I want to keep dancing like this.

— With you.

Thoughts that I would normally shake off on the ground were now met with acceptance. After all, these were illusions conjured by my oxygen-deprived brain, and trying to eliminate them seemed futile. Instead, I wanted to indulge in this pleasantness.

— I never knew flying could be this joyous.

The painful flight that had been tormenting me transformed into joy for the very first time.

— Airplanes are not coffins.

The sky taught me that.

— Pilots are not mere particles of iron.

Tears fell.

— The sky is not a hell.

The curse of my father, which had bound me since childhood, dissolves into the clear blue as if it were nothing.

— The sky is so free and full of joy.

Illia communicates with Kiyoaki through the sky.

— Right? Kiyoaki.

Beyond the shield and the windscreen, a brilliant blue silhouette dances as if guiding Illia.

My chest burns with warmth. It’s painful yet sweet and pleasant.

What a graceful dance. What a swift and beautiful way to fly. I've never met someone who flies like this before.

— I want to keep flying with you like this forever.

I sent that prayer into the sky.

Even without words, I understood that my feelings were reaching Kiyoaki.

“Time remaining: one minute.”

The instructor’s voice reached Kiyoaki’s ears.

There’s only that much time left. This moment will end. It’s sad. It’s lonely. I want it to last forever.

But childish hopes won’t reach me. In one minute, this dance will end.

— Then, right here.

Suddenly, a thought flashed in the back of my mind.

— The technique my father used.

In the duel twenty years ago, my father Masaharu supposedly defeated Karsten Kreishmidt with the secret technique "Snake Shot." On the St Vault side, it was said that Karsten was shot down by an intervening aircraft, and it’s recorded that Kiyoaki never executed such a technique. When this was debated last August on the airship, Illia dismissed the Snake Shot as a "fantasy."

— Maybe now I can do it.

By following Illia, new techniques that I’ve never executed are emerging one after another. This is a special state; I don’t know how many times this could happen in the future.

It’s worth challenging.

Kiyoaki opened the windscreen. The parachute has been strapped on since boarding. If I fail, I can quickly deploy my parachute into the sea.

I glanced at the instrument panel to check the remaining fuel. It’s running low. I looked back to confirm Illia’s position.

I gradually increased altitude without being noticed.

Illia was coming up from below.

I increased my speed. Illia also opened her throttle.

Through the airspace, I sensed Illia’s suspicion.

This is something I’ve never shown before. Illia can’t read my intentions. That’s how it should be.

— Here it is.

Resolutely, Kiyoaki suddenly tilted the aircraft upward.

A tremendous G-force hit me.

Transitioning from straight flight to vertical ascent, the Gray Fox was met with sudden deceleration that could pop my eyeballs out.

Kiyoaki endured.

Illia was pushed forward as if she stumbled.

I couldn’t see. If I could level the aircraft again from here, I could take Illia’s back in an instant…

—

Kiyoaki’s consciousness cut off at that moment.

—

“Are you stupid…?!”

Illia turned around and yelled without thinking.

The severed left wing spun helplessly down, with the fuselage following it. Among the remnants of the Gray Fox that had broken apart in mid-air, Kiyoaki, with a yellow parachute deployed, fell limply with arms and legs stretched out.

He must have fainted from the G-force. If you suddenly tilt the aircraft while moving at over 400 kilometres per hour, that’s only natural.

“What are you doing…?”

With a dumbfounded expression, Illia watched Kiyoaki fall. It must be cold in the sea in February, yet he attempted such a reckless manoeuvre.

A patrol ship approached Kiyoaki as he fell into the sea, leaving a white trail behind.

“Lance 1 has been shot down. Congratulations, Illia. You win.”

As the instructor's voice came through, Illia finally realized Kiyoaki’s intention.

“Snake Shot…”

It was the aerial combat technique that Masaharu had claimed to have used to shoot down Karsten. It’s said that the snake rises, slamming into the enemy who stumbles forward and takes them down... but no pilot has succeeded in reality. Nearly everyone who attempted it ended up in the same situation as Kiyoaki, so in St Vault, it was dismissed as a fictional technique.

“It’s impossible.”

After watching Kiyoaki being lifted onto the ship by the approaching sailors, Illia turned her aircraft towards the airfield.

It seemed like an anticlimactic ending... yet her heartbeat didn’t settle. In fact, it became stronger.

Just a moment ago—when Kiyoaki suddenly transitioned to a steep ascent and demonstrated the Snake Shot manoeuvre.

He Lost.

He thought so.

If only his aircraft had been more resilient, if Kiyoaki's body had been strong enough to endure the forces of inertia, and if he had the experience and skills to dodge the brink of disintegration, the Snake Shot could have been executed perfectly.

“Foolish.”

As she dismissed her own thoughts, Illia returned to the skies above Air Hunt Island. The spectators were waving their hands toward the sky with expressions of joy. The St Vault people were probably cheering, while the Akitsu people were biting back their frustration.

She had no interest in how the ground would report today’s duel.

More importantly, she wanted to remember what she felt today.

The sky she hadn’t known. The flying that had always been painful since childhood had transformed into joy for the first time today.

—It’s thanks to you, Kiyoaki.

If she could, she would have liked to fly a little longer. With a heavy heart, Illia returned safely to the airfield.

Toaru Hikuushi e no Seiyaku:V2Part6

2025-11-28T02:10:13Z

QCore:

Part 14 (Part 6 of Volume 2)
The year had changed to Imperial Year 1348.

As the new semester began, the mock aerial battles reached their final stage, with upperclassmen starting to clash against each other. Since the results at the officer academy directly influenced future promotions within the military, all fourth-year students were flying with the same determination as if they were facing real aerial combat, eager to improve their ranks.

This year, there was also something that inevitably spurred on the aviation students.

A crowd of several newspaper reporters and cameras were stationed by the runway. The outcome of this year’s mock aerial combat was no longer a concern limited to within the school.

Among the “Seven of Eriadore,” two significant figures had unexpectedly come together: Illia Kreischmidt and Reiner Sakagami Kiyoaki, both descendants of the former “King of the Skies.” Citizens from both the St Vault Empire and the Akitsu Federation were showing considerable interest in the outcome of their duel.

The instigator was Akitsu Daily reporter, Tokiwa.

The article discussed the differing accounts of the duel between Karsten Kreischmidt and Sakagami Masaharu during the Twenty Years’ War, the tragic end of Masaharu due to the invasion of Urano’s Messus Island, as well as the current standings and states of mind of Kiyoaki and Illia. And then—about the current situation of Karsten Kreischmidt.

Kiyoaki had seen the article. It hadn’t contained any lies. However, its clear purpose was to sensationalize the conflict between the two and gather public attention. The descriptions of Karsten were tinged with malice. It claimed that the arm lost by Karsten had fuelled Illia's resolve against the Sakagami family, entrusting his desire for vengeance to his only daughter.

The article sparked reactions, and in St Vault, especially in gossip magazines, numerous follow-up articles emerged. There were growing calls within the Empire for Illia’s victory in the mock aerial combat, and voices began to rise again condemning the Akitsu military’s cruel tactics during the previous duel. Similarly, in the Akitsu Federation, there was a dominant tone of supporting Kiyoaki, criticizing Karsten for putting Illia through harsh training.

Citizens from both great nations, separated by the Archipelago Sea, were focusing their attention on the outcome of this aerial race on a remote island. The Hydrabard campaign was currently in a slight lull before the large-scale operation plans, with no other major topics of discussion, further increasing the number of reporters.

— I don’t care about that.

Kiyoaki thought with a sense of aversion. The connections to his father and the dignity of the nation had nothing to do with him and his peers right now. He only needed to unleash all his power against his opponent. It was troubling to have the expectations and grievances of people he had never seen before placed upon him.

Currently, Kiyoaki had climbed to sixth place overall. The top was Illia, followed by Balthazar in second, and Kagura in third. As expected, the “Seven of Eriadore” had gathered top performers, and it seemed that the race would ultimately come down to four contenders, including Kiyoaki.

— The connection to my parents doesn’t matter. I just don’t want to lose to Illia.

That was the only thought occupying Kiyoaki’s mind. Because he admired and respected Illia’s abilities, he wanted her to acknowledge his strength as well.

— I’ll keep winning until the very end.

As he marked the fleeing enemy aircraft with red bullets, Kiyoaki spread his wings. The instructor's voice came through the speaker.

“Sakagami, you’ve moved up to fifth place now. This is where the real contest begins; don’t let your guard down.”

“Yes, I will do my best.”

Kiyoaki glanced around the canopy and checked the airfield as he entered a descent manoeuvre. As the ground approached, he noticed a row of cameras pointed at him. This was likely part of the military’s intentions to attract public interest in the officer academy and recruit more applicants. Recently, not only had the media flocked to Air Hunt Island, but tourists were also pouring in as if a mock aerial combat festival was taking place.

After landing and finishing his report to the instructor, he was quickly surrounded by reporters before his classmates. Among them was a face from the Akitsu Federation. He held back any resentment and stuck to standard responses, answering the questions about his upcoming match against Illia with a simple, “I will do my best.”

He wanted to keep as much distance as possible from the interviewers. The matter concerning the Akitsu Federation was unpleasant, and there were many horrible reporters as well. Just four days prior, a fabricated article about Illia’s past had been published in a tabloid, prompting a protest from the principal of Air Hunt Academy. Kiyoaki had glimpsed that article, which unjustly tarnished Illia’s family, and anger welled up inside him. He could only imagine the extent of the emotional wounds that Illia carried, but she showed no signs of change after the article, continuing to go about her daily life with calmness as usual.

Kiyoaki managed to shake off the reporters, finish the afternoon training session, have dinner in the cafeteria, and then headed to the dedicated officers’ room for the seven of them to study.

Amidst the noise surrounding the publication of the Tokiwa Udakuni article, he realized he hadn’t really spoken to Mio since winter break ended. He opened the door, thinking he should at least greet her for the New Year.

“Aki-chan, good evening! Today, there’s no one else here!”

Sitting comfortably on the sofa was only Cecil.

"Ah, I see. That's rare. Is Mio not here?"

When Kiyoaki asked, the usually cheerful expression of Cecil clouded.

"Did something happen with Mio at home?"

"Huh?"

"Since she returned, she's been acting strangely..."

"...What do you mean?"

"Umm, Aki-chan, do you not know? There are quite a few rumours among the girls..."

"What? What’s going on?"

According to Cecil,

A week ago, after the break ended, Illia, Kagura, Cecil, and Mio finally got together in their shared dorm room. Cecil was eager to share stories from the break, but no matter how fun the conversation was, Mio seemed somewhat absent-minded. Eventually, she drifted away from the conversation and went off by herself. At that time, they thought she might be feeling unwell, but as the days passed, Mio spoke less and less, and now she avoided interacting with anyone, preferring to study alone in the study room or sit in a corner of the dining hall.

"What’s going on? Why is Mio like that?"

"I don't know. She wasn't there during the recent Fairytale Donut Festival either..."

"Oh, now that you mention it..."

Three days ago, the Fairytale Donuts had appeared again in the student hall. It was an unprecedentedly large appearance, and students gathered in droves to get their share, leading the squadron monitors to intervene and instruct the crowd to line up, eventually distributing all the donuts equally in a commotion.

"The donuts were weird but tasted amazing. It’s no wonder they’re so popular. But yeah, Mio wasn’t there at that time..."

"Since we share a room, I see her every night when we go to sleep, but no matter what I say, she hardly responds... Kagura said it might be because something happened at her home, so it’s better to leave her alone for a while and ask her about it later..."

From what I’ve heard, it’s clear that Mio’s behaviour is quite odd. She’s usually bright and cheerful, valuing the bond among the seven of them. It’s surprising that she’s still dragging along the weight of having put her comrades’ lives at risk during the night landing.

"I thought since you’ve known her the longest, you might be able to help her..."

"I’ve been so focused on the mock aerial combat that I didn’t even notice... Tomorrow, I’ll have class with Mio in naval history, so I’ll talk to her then. I know her family too, so I can casually ask if anything happened at home."

"Yeah... Thank you. I really hope she gets better soon. For some reason, just looking at Mio like this makes me feel sad..."

Comforting the dejected Cecil, Kiyoaki entered the study room. Despite preparing for the next day’s lessons, he couldn’t shake off a strange sense of unease.

The next day, as he entered the naval history classroom for the second period, he saw Mio sitting alone in the back corner, staring out the window.

Kiyoaki approached her with a smile, took the seat next to her, and greeted her.

"Mio, it's been a while. Happy New Year! How have you been?"

Mio's back stiffened in surprise.

Her colourful eyes turned towards Kiyoaki.

"Oh, um. You..."

That was all she said before quickly turning her gaze back to the window, falling silent.

"Is something out there?"

Kiyoaki asked, glancing outside as well, but no one was on the grounds. Mio wouldn’t look at him, fixating instead on the empty field.

I see, this is definitely unusual.

"Winter break was fun. I spent most of it playing with Reiner. I learned how to ride a bike, and I'm thinking about getting a license."

"Is that so..."

Mio continued to stare out the window, only giving a brief acknowledgment.

Another silence fell between them.

It felt as if he were conversing with Illia, where the connection was severed.

"How was your family, Mio?"

He asked, but she wouldn’t even glance his way. Anxiety began to creep in.

"Hey, Mio. What’s wrong? You seem down... Are you sick?"

As he continued to question her, Mio responded without looking at him.

"Shut up. Just leave me alone."

Kiyoaki was taken aback. He had been with Mio since they were twelve, but he had never seen her like this.

"Ah... um... yeah. Are you just lost in thought? If so, I won’t disturb you..."

At a loss for words, he sat next to her and attended the class. Throughout the lecture, Mio was focused on the blackboard and never once glanced in Kiyoaki's direction.

After the lecture, he tried to speak to Mio again as she put her notebook away.

"Want to have lunch together? I’d like to hear how your uncle and aunt are doing. Is your little brother doing well?"

But even when he brought up her foster parents, Mio didn’t even return his gaze.

"I’m not hungry."

She said bluntly, quickly getting up from her chair.

"Mio, wait, why...?"

Kiyoaki called after her, but she left the classroom without looking back.

"................"

Kiyoaki could only stare blankly into the emptiness. He wondered if he had done something wrong to her, but he hadn’t said anything to upset her.

Mio’s personality had suddenly changed.

Something must have happened on Crossnodal Island when she visited her foster parents during the winter break. That was the only explanation. But what kind of event could have changed her so drastically?

"Must be that time of the month."

In the afternoon, while watching the mock aerial battle overhead, Reiner replied.

Kiyoaki returned a vague smile.

"But it felt more serious than that."

"It’s a serious one. Just let it be."

At an altitude of five hundred meters, four Gray Foxes were engaged in a fierce battle. As expected from a clash of top-ranking students, the excitement was several notches above previous encounters. All the students in the aviation department lined up next to the runway, holding their breath, as two blue aircraft, "Lance," overwhelmed two silver aircraft, "Arrow."

"Kagura and Illia are teamed up. That’s unfair. They’re so strong."

The two "Lance" aircraft belonged to Illia and Kagura. With the first and third place pilots teaming up, they were a force no ordinary pair could contend with. In no time, the two "Arrow" aircraft were marked with red paint, signalling their defeat.

"Illia is being protected by Kagura, the point getter. If that’s how they fight, I can’t see us winning."

Reiner was more engrossed in the mock aerial battle than in Mio’s situation, not giving Kiyoaki much attention. Beyond the fence separating the runway from the outside world, younger female students gathered, cheering loudly for Kagura and Illia’s impressive performance.

"I wish I could be that popular. I wonder why I don’t have any fans..."

Realizing he had chosen the wrong person to confide in, Kiyoaki sighed and looked up at the blue sky. The sight of Kagura and Illia returning to the airfield, wings aligned, was quite majestic.

"More pair aerial battles are increasing. Is that the trend nowadays? Is one-on-one battles going out of style?"

As Reiner mentioned, as the mock aerial combat progressed, one-on-one encounters decreased, and two-on-two formations increased. It was said that in the battles of the Multi-Island sea, three-aircraft formations were being promoted. The match against Illia could also potentially turn into a two-on-two situation instead of a one-on-one.

"While worrying about others, you should think about your own grades. The results of this will determine your future. If you want to continue being an aviator, you have to beat Illia here."

"...Yeah, I know..."

From here on, Kiyoaki would be facing opponents of equal skill. It wasn’t a situation where he could afford to be complacent. Just as Reiner had said, this was an essential skills test that would shape their future. He decided to wait a while before approaching Mio again, as Cecil suggested.

But──.

"What happened to Mio? She hasn’t come here lately."

The abnormal situation continued for another week, and even Balthazar began to worry.

At 10:30 PM, the other five gathered in the Seven’s exclusive officer room, exchanging dark looks.

"I’ll make it clear that I’m not worried about Mio. However, if some foolish person has angered her with light words, then you should apologize immediately."

Balthazar said, looking directly at Reiner.

"Why are you looking at me? I haven’t done anything! We’re in trouble because we don’t know the cause."

"Have you thrown any crude remarks? Your usual language is sexual harassment for any decent woman. Reflect on your behaviour."

"How can you say that with certainty? It wasn’t me! You’re the one treating Mio like a maid!"

"I didn’t treat her like that; I merely issued orders. What’s wrong with a candidate officer giving commands to their subordinates?"

"That’s called treating her like a maid in common society!"

"That aside. It’s probably not just the two of you at fault. There’s something deeper."

Kagura interrupted the two, and the room fell silent again. Cecil sighed.

"Even Aki-chan doesn’t know the cause? That’s quite serious. Mio used to be so bright and cheerful, but now she’s completely changed..."

"...The cause probably isn’t us. Something must have happened at home. She may want to avoid us, or maybe she can’t... That could be it."

In response to Kagura's guess, Cecil tilted her head.

"At home...? Is it about her diplomat parents? I heard Mio has eight siblings, all adopted, right? I’ve heard that all of them, including Mio, are incredibly gifted..."

Balthazar leaned back deeply into the sofa, staring at the ceiling.

"Does a diplomat really adopt eight children? What for?"

Cecil turned a worried face towards Kiyoaki, who answered in her stead.

"It seems that they either have acquaintances request them, do volunteer work, or take in talented children who can't continue their studies due to family circumstances. It’s a wealthy and lively household."

"What are the nationalities of the adopted children? Do they share the same skin colour?"

"…The nationalities include people from Akitsu, Hydrabard, and small countries from the Vestelant continent. The skin colours also vary depending on their places of origin."

"Why was Mio taken in by that family?"

"I heard she was taken in after her parents died in the war, but… I don’t really know the details. It feels bad to pry..."

After this exchange, Balthazar thought for a moment and posed a strange question.

"Is Fio kept by the family?"

Everyone exchanged puzzled glances, not understanding the intent behind the question.

"Fio is closest to Mio, but it’s the family that keeps her. The food is given by the servants, parents, and siblings."

"Were there multiple birds of the same type as Fio kept at home?"

Balthazar continued to ask strange questions for some reason. Kiyoaki recalled Mio's family from when they were on Messus Island.

"...Yes, there were. I didn’t count, but it might have been five or six... maybe even more. I think they were close to her parents and siblings."

"Does Fio have a mate?"

"Yes. A female mate was at Mio’s home."

With a furrowed brow, Balthazar stared intently into space. Kiyoaki felt a bit uneasy and asked in return.

"...What’s it to you, Captain? We’re talking about Mio, so why are you concerned about Fio?"

Balthazar didn’t respond. After a long time lost in thought, he finally spoke.

"...In my mind, the puzzle pieces are coming together. However… the picture that emerges feels very theatrical. It’s not something to be conveyed verbally with sincerity. But if my deduction is correct, I can say this."

After a dramatic pause, Balthazar locked eyes with Kiyoaki.

"Mio will likely sever all ties with us forever."

Kiyoaki’s heart skipped a beat.

"...What?"

"There’s no chance she’ll appear in this officer room again, and once she graduates, she will completely cut ties with us. Being praised as one of the 'Seven of Eriadore' is nothing but a burden for Mio."

Kiyoaki felt a surge of anger at Balthazar’s words, which seemed to see through everything.

"W-what are you talking about?! On what basis are you saying that?!"

"It’s my deduction."

"That’s just… there’s no way Mio would do that!"

"I hope I’m wrong. I wish for things to remain unchanged. Losing my familiar coffee maker would be quite inconvenient."

"W-who is this coffee maker you’re talking about...?!"

Before the conversation could veer off course, Kagura intervened.

"Balthazar, what’s the basis for that claim? It can’t be…?"

"You understand, don't you, Kagura? The true nature of the diplomat profession. Eight adopted children, gathered from around the world, all exceptional and of different skin colours. The uniqueness of the bird named Fio. If you analyze these elements, you can deduce the cause of Mio's sudden change."

As the points of deduction were laid out, Kagura's eyes widened. Rarely expressive, Kagura couldn't hide her surprise.

"However, that can't be the case..."

"Wait, what is it, Captain? I have no idea what you're talking about..."

Cecil leaned forward, but Balthazar stood up from the sofa with a look of annoyance.

"It's just a guessing game; proof is impossible at this point. Mio is currently lacking mental stability, but there's a chance she could return to normal tomorrow. That's all. I can't keep playing around. I'm going to study. Cecil, make some coffee. A strong black, please."

"I refuse. Just tell me the answer."

"Are you defying my orders?"

"Captain, you're not my superior. You have no authority to order me around."
[[File:BalthazarAndCecil.png|thumb]]
Cecil closed her eyes with a composed expression, remaining seated on the sofa. Balthazar looked down at his junior with a scowl.

"As expected, substitutes are useless. You're several steps inferior to those I'm familiar with."

"I'm not a substitute or anything."

"Sakagami, you make it."

"Please take back what you said about calling Mio a coffee maker."

"Kagura, you give it a try."

"If Balthazar makes pancakes for me, I'd gladly do it."

"Illia, do you know how to make it?"

"........................"

"Fine, I'll make it."

Balthazar sighed and entered the kitchen, starting to boil water himself. With meticulous hands, he folded the filter and set it perfectly in the dripper.

"Balthazar, make one for me too."

"Please make one for me as well."

"Be quiet."

Reiner pouted and asked,

"Captain, why don’t you ask me to do it?"

"I don't want to drink coffee made by you."

"That's harsh. It's exquisite..."

While Reiner sulked beside him, Illia, who hadn’t spoken a word since the discussion started, suddenly said,

"I... was apologized to by Mio last night."

All eyes turned to Illia. She continued slowly.

"In our dorm room. Mio is in the lower bunk of the same bunk bed... I heard her struggling to breathe at night, so I thought she might be unwell. I got down to check on her. At that moment..."

Illia paused, thought for a moment, and continued.

"I think Mio was crying... She noticed I had gotten down and was suppressing her sobs. I asked if she was feeling unwell, but she didn't respond. She seemed like she didn't want me to say anything, so I went back to my upper bunk... After a while, she called out from the lower bunk, saying 'I'm sorry.'"

Illia clumsily wove her words together and then closed her eyes.

"Was Mio crying? Alone?"

"Yeah. It was dark, so I couldn't see, but probably."

"...What does that mean? I don't understand. If something sad happened, why didn't she tell me anything?"

Kagura added her words.

"...There must be circumstances she can't talk about. I don't know what they are, but what we should do isn't to press her for answers. We should treat her as we normally do and wait for her to open up again. That's all."

A heavy atmosphere filled the officer's room. Just a little while ago, the seven of them had been cheerful with Mio at the centre, but now it felt as cold as a mountain cabin without a stove.

──Mio, why...?

The anxiety continued to burn in Kiyoaki's chest.

February──.

Mio still continued to shut herself off, while on the other hand, the mock aerial combat race was finally approaching its final battle. With graduation just a month away, the fourth-year students were showing fierce competition, and Kiyoaki had finally climbed to second place, surpassing Kagura and Balthazar. First place was Illia, third was Balthazar, and fourth was Kagura. The final battle was planned to be a one-on-one between Kiyoaki and Illia, considering the public excitement, but then the naval air force intervened.

It was stated that the naval air force was no longer promoting one-on-one aerial combat and encouraged three-plane formations instead. Therefore, in the final battle, they would conduct a three-on-three formation battle, hoping to convey to the public and military the new era of aerial combat.

As for the confrontation between Kiyoaki and Illia, curiosity from the citizens of both the Akitsu Federation and the St Vault Empire extended beyond the academy, and the military wanted to use this content effectively to boost morale and increase enlistment. The academy leaders could not defy these intentions, and they decided to divide into Arrow, led by Illia, and Lance, led by Kiyoaki, to conduct the final battle, with the winner being crowned the champion of the mock aerial combat race.

The assignments were as follows.

"Hey Kiyoaki, tough luck. Your victory is gone. After all, I'm here."

Reiner, who was in the same formation, grinned and threw an arm around Kiyoaki.

"We're going to win, Kiyoaki. Starting now, we're having a strategy meeting, and we won't lose for sure!"

Kagura, too, declared with determination, promising victory in the final battle.

The Lance group consisted of Kiyoaki, Reiner, and Kagura. On the other hand, the Arrow group led by Illia...

“Ilia, Balthazar, and Obando… they’re strong.”

Kagura groaned as she looked at the team formation displayed on the bulletin board in front of the control tower.

Obando Ezmo was a fourth-year student who struggled with academics but excelled in aerial combat. He was currently ranked fifth. Kiyoaki had managed to win against him in a match, but it was clear that he possessed considerable talent. On the ground, he was known for his boisterous personality, often leading a large group of underclassmen in wild revelry at the clubhouse during weekends.

“This means the captain will definitely come up with a strategy… I’m sure he’ll study our weaknesses and devise detailed tactics. We need to think ahead as well.”

As Kiyoaki discussed this with Kagura, Obando approached them with a towering figure over 190 centimetres tall, his spiky blonde hair and tanned skin radiating confidence as he stood in front of Kagura.

“Kagura, marry me.”

“Where is this coming from, Obando?”

“This is conditional on our Arrow team winning this match. What do you say?”

“If I had a sword right now, I would cut you down.”

“If we graduate like this, we’ll be separated. Aren’t you sad about that?”

“I won’t particularly miss parting from you.”

“I’m sad, Kagura. So if our Arrow team wins this battle, let’s get married.”

“That’s not a fair exchange. What’s the benefit if the Lance team wins?”

“I’ll be your slave. You can do whatever you want with me.”

“No thanks.”

“Then how about this guy, and this guy too, as your slaves?”

Obando flashed a broad, carefree smile, putting his arms around Kiyoaki and Reiner.

“I understand now that your synapses are made of muscle fibres, Obando. I look forward to the showdown. I’ll shoot your withered brain first.”

As Kagura said this with a clever smile, Obando beamed even brighter.

“Oh, you’ll agree to it? If I win, we’re getting married. I’ll make sure you wear a transparent wedding dress!”

With a triumphant fist pump, Obando dashed back to his group. Cheers erupted among the crowd, and in the centre, Obando joyfully reported something in a loud voice, while underclassmen began chanting “Marriage! Marriage!” at their teary-eyed senior.

“...Kagura, when did you agree to this?” Reiner asked, looking at Kagura’s back.

“I… don’t remember agreeing to anything…”

Kagura turned around, looking puzzled.

“What’s this transparent wedding dress thing?”

“Not that! What was that just now?”

“I don’t really know, but it seems that if we lose, Kagura will have to marry that muscle-bound guy.”

“That’s why I didn’t agree!”

“Perhaps that muscle-headed guy can’t understand human language. This is going to be a problem. Don’t worry, if we lose, I’ll accompany you on the run.”

“No, I told you I didn’t agree… What was that?”

Kagura gazed at Obando being lifted into the air, feeling at a loss, while Kiyoaki turned to her with a serious expression.

“Let’s win, Kagura. Obando is strong in aerial combat, and I’m starting to feel a heavy responsibility…”

“Yeah, let’s win. But wait, even if we lose, I’m not marrying him! I never agreed to that!”

While Kagura, unusually flustered, was distracted, the excitement surrounding Obando continued to grow. Eventually, even the newspaper reporters, noticing the commotion, rushed over to ask Obando what was happening. Kiyoaki could only watch, realizing that another reason to absolutely not lose had been added to the already pressing match against Illia…

Toaru Hikuushi e no Seiyaku:V2Part3

2025-11-25T22:04:09Z

QCore:

Part 11 (Part 3 of Volume 2)
Shooting down an enemy fighter.

It's as simple as that in words, but achieving it requires a certain kind of "miracle."

—You must push all human abilities to their limits to achieve a "kill."

The words taught to Kiyoaki by Akmed back on his hometown of Messus Island exploded in his mind.

He gritted his teeth. Tilting the control stick sideways, he raised the nose and desperately chased after the enemy's tail in a right turn.

Beyond the shield, the silver aircraft was trying to escape. The vibrations accompanying high-speed flight conveyed directly into the sights. Adjusting the throttle meticulously to catch the enemy within the crosshair, the enemy aircraft slipped out of sight in the blink of an eye.

Flying at around four hundred kilometres per hour, they moved through three-dimensional space without restraint; Kiyoaki had to fit the enemy aircraft into this small crosshair and pull the trigger to shoot it down. Pilots were recognized as competent only after shooting down enemy aircraft, but Kiyoaki realized how endlessly far that path was.

If he shot down five enemy aircraft, he would earn the title of ace. Indeed, it would be impossible for an ordinary human to achieve the "kill" five times. When he was on the ground, he had thought, "Only five?" But now, engaging in mock air battles, he understood how much of a miracle it was to achieve a "kill."

However, he had no time for complaints. If he threw the controls away now, the enemy would soon take his back and shoot him down. In twenty minutes, one side had to achieve that "miracle." Chosen as someone capable of doing so, that was why the students of the flight department were flying in the sky.

—I can do it. I can do it. I can do it...

As he told himself this while pursuing the enemy aircraft, the silver silhouette struggled violently, trying to shake him off.

—I have been flying since I was a child.

—I was at the top of my class in piloting at the Kanan River Officer School. I was taught directly by Master Akmed.

—And I am the son of the ace of the Akitsu Islands.

—I am used to mock air battles. I am not the same as I was two months ago.

—I cannot lose. No, I should not lose.

Chastising the faltering part of his mind, he fixed his gaze through the windscreen, waiting for the enemy to weaken.

In a dogfight, just as it was hard for him, it was hard for the enemy too. The opponent must also be suffering from a lack of blood flow, breathing difficulties, and the terrible cries of overworked muscles. Both sides were putting all their cultivated mental and physical abilities to the limit; whoever gave up first would lose.

Then—.

The enemy silhouette wavered and began to settle into the crosshairs.

The opponent was the first to reach their limits in stamina and morale. The fierceness of struggling like a large fish trying to shake off a hook had vanished, leaving only a position waiting to be caught.

Kiyoaki placed his right thumb on the trigger of the 7.7mm machine gun mounted beside the control stick.

All he had to do was pull the trigger, and the special round would fire, dyeing the enemy aircraft's body red, granting him victory.

But.

—Why do I have to shoot it down?

Such doubts skimmed the edges of his thoughts.

—Am I flying to kill people?

Even with a one-in-a-thousand chance, his thumb stubbornly refused to press the button.

—I love the sky. I love flying.

—Will I be flying to kill people in such a beautiful sky from now on?

—I want to be a pilot. I don't want to be a flying killer.

Those thoughts wouldn't stop. They overflowed. His thumb on the trigger became as stiff as stone.

He loved the sky more than anyone else. That pride prevented him from killing the enemy with all his skills.

And the battlefield wouldn't let even a moment of hesitation slide.

"Ah..."

Before he knew it, the enemy aircraft had regained its strength and escaped into the distance outside his crosshairs. He hastily descended to pursue it, but the enemy, having realized Kiyoaki’s superior skills, wouldn’t face him directly. It was better to draw and not lose points than to lose.

"The time limit has been exceeded. It's a draw."

The familiar voice of the instructor echoed through the speaker. Kiyoaki stared blankly at the enemy silhouette in the distance, then lowered the control stick with a pale expression.

That made it fourteen battles with two wins, zero losses, and twelve draws. Zero kills. Ranked fifty-first out of one hundred forty.

Carrying such a mediocre record, he lowered his heavy feet to the ground.

On the runway, the Gray Fox was lined up in formation, waiting for the next group of students to board for mock air battles.

At the front was Illia. Kiyoaki glanced at her awkwardly, but Illia didn't even look his way.

She was completely indifferent to him.

That reality crushed his heart.

He trudged to the air command centre to report the battle’s progress, feeling dispirited. After finishing his report to the instructor and stepping outside, he saw Illia skilfully bombard an enemy aircraft with paintballs in the clear sky. Instead of hesitation, her shooting was mechanical, like a document piercing through holes.

The closeness he had felt when piloting the same Gray Fox together two months ago was now gone. He silently watched Illia's back as she aimed for the high heavens, feeling distant...

—Illia feels so far away...

While he gazed blankly at Illia's silhouette soaring through the unoccupied sky, he suddenly heard a voice.

"Excuse me, Sakagami Kiyoaki, right?"

Startled, he turned around to see a woman he had never met approaching him with a blank expression. Stopping three steps in front of him, she pushed her glasses up with her fingertips without a smile.

"Ah, yes... I'm Sakagami."

"I am Tokiwa, a member dispatched from the Selfaust branch of the Akitsu Federation. I apologize for bothering you while you are busy. I appreciate your cooperation today."

She handed him a business card, and Kiyoaki looked closely at the woman in front of him. Trying to remember, he finally recalled.

"Oh... right, the interview today. Uh, is it happening now...?"

"No, I recognized your face, so I thought I’d greet you. The interview for the two of you will be after classes, in the student building. For now, we just need to do some filming."

Upon hearing "the two of you will be interviewed," Kiyoaki recalled.

That's right. At the request of the Akitsu Federation's national newspaper, Akitsu Daily, he was supposed to have an interview with Illia. He had wanted to refuse if possible, but the media-loving principal had readily agreed without consideration.

"I see... Thank you."

"I would appreciate it if I could accompany you for a while to capture your natural school life, but I have already obtained permission from the school."

"Uh... well... Sure, I don't mind."

Faced with Tokiwa’s authoritative announcement, Kiyoaki couldn't refuse and reluctantly agreed. With semi-long hair and glasses, and dressed in a stylish black suit that accentuated her figure, she seemed to be in her mid-twenties, exactly the type of career woman working for a major newspaper. The strong gaze behind her glasses hid undeniable intelligence and ambition.

—She looks intimidating...

Kiyoaki kept his thoughts to himself as he led Tokiwa to the group of flight department students watching the mock air battles beside the runway.

The students had been observing the media coverage of "The Seven of Eriadore" for the past two months, so they weren’t concerned that Kiyoaki was being followed by a female reporter. Instead, they seemed more interested in the skills of their peers, intently watching the sky to memorize their rivals' tactics, special moves, and weaknesses.

Kiyoaki looked up at the azure sky. Balthazar was the one fighting. It was known that he excelled in academics, but he was also ranked second in mock air battles, right behind Illia. Using the enemy’s weaknesses that he had researched beforehand, Balthazar relentlessly targeted them, striking when it mattered. The opposing aircraft was helpless against his assault and succumbed to a paintball hit in the side. The top ten were all strong, and the gap between them and the lower-ranked students widened over time.

Hawks and prey.

In the arena of aerial combat, only these two exist. Kiyoaki understood this concept intellectually. No matter how much a prey cries out for love after losing its wings, being skinned, and having its flesh eaten, it’s nothing but the lament of a pitiful loser. The hawk, unaffected by such pleas, flies in search of new prey.

—Which one do I want to be?

He asked himself that question. There was no need for an answer. Who would willingly offer their blood and flesh to the enemy? Anyone who would do so would be nothing but a fool.

—I want to be a hawk.

Without thinking, he clenched his fists at his waist. Tokiwa immediately captured his profile on camera. Though he found it somewhat bothersome, Kiyoaki continued to watch his peers’ battles until the end.

After classes ended, they had dinner in the cafeteria, and then it was time for the interview with Akitsu Daily in the student building's conference room. Tokiwa sat across the table, with Kiyoaki and Illia sitting side by side.
[[File:TokiwaInterview.png|thumb]]
"Thank you for meeting with us today, Sakagami, and Kreischmidt. Have you had a chance to review the questions I sent beforehand?"

Kiyoaki tilted his head, and Illia remained completely still. Tokiwa looked puzzled.

"Did they not arrive?"

"I... don’t remember seeing them."

"And you, Kreischmidt?"

"......Yes."

Tokiwa slightly furrowed her brows.

"It seems there was a mix-up. I had informed the principal in advance... It must be a communication issue. Normally, I should inform you later, but..."

Tokiwa fell silent. No one in the conference room spoke. An uncomfortable stillness filled the air. Both Tokiwa and Illia sank into a serene silence.

Who should break the silence first? Who should speak the words Tokiwa was waiting for? Kiyoaki found himself resenting his tendency to be overly considerate of others, and finally, he awkwardly broke the silence.

"Um, since it’s a hassle to do it twice, it’s okay to continue as we are..."

"Is that so? That helps. Kreischmidt, is that alright with you?"

"........................"

"........................"

Another long silence fell, reminiscent of a deep valley in the mountains. It felt like his heart would freeze in this stillness.

"Um, I’ll check the draft later, so it’s fine. Illia, you’re okay with that too, right? It would be a hassle to repeat the same thing."

"........................"

Ilia kept her gaze fixed on the empty space in front of her, slightly lowering her chin. She seemed to have nodded, although perhaps she didn’t. Still, Kiyoaki decided to proceed, interpreting it as a nod.

"Yes, Illia says it’s fine too. Thank you."

"Thank you. Then..."

Tokiwa took out a recording device and placed it on the table. After pressing a button, the recording tape vibrated softly and began to spin.

After confirming that the device was operational, the first question was posed.

"Both of your fathers, Sakagami Masaharu, the Flight Captain, and Karsten Kreischmidt, are sworn enemies. Do you think there will be any issues with you living the same school life as children of these two?"

Kiyoaki nearly choked on his words. Illia remained motionless.

"Sakagami, what do you think?"

Tokiwa's icy words pierced through the air. Kiyoaki swallowed hard and offered a safe response.

"Um... I try not to think about such things. We are ourselves..."

"And Kreischmidt?"

"........................"

"Kreischmidt was reported to have lost his right arm due to a betrayal by Sakagami. Do you believe that?"

Ilia's eyes glinted with murderous intent.

"......What other causes could there be?"

In a subdued tone, she returned a question for a question. Tokiwa opened her bag and placed a thick document on the table.

"This is the testimony of the Akitsu military pilots who witnessed that duel. Although there were interruptions from the wingman or other aircraft, the outcome was decided before that. The Sakagami aircraft's 'snake shot' took down Captain Karsten... Almost everyone agrees with this."

"The records of the St Vault military state that a wingman shot down my father."

"Do you personally believe that, Kreischmidt?"

Kiyoaki watched as an ominous cloud of tension began to build between Tokiwa and Illia.

This interview was going poorly. Tokiwa had come with some sort of ulterior motive, likely intending to stoke conflict between Kiyoaki and Illia to pique the readers' interest...

His instincts whispered this, prompting Kiyoaki to interject.

"Um, Tokiwa. It's not possible to discuss events that happened in the past here, so that question might not be appropriate..."

"By the way, it seems that within the military, cowards are referred to as 'Sakagami.' What do you think about that, Sakagami?"

At that moment, Kiyoaki felt as if he had been struck in the head. He had never heard of such a term.

"W-What’s that? I’ve never heard of such a thing."

"It’s said to be military slang. If you joined the St Vault air and naval forces, you would inevitably hear it."

He was unaware of it.

Kiyoaki glanced at Illia's profile beside him. She showed no response or reaction, only an increasing coldness surrounding her.

"W-What kind of person are you? Are you really a journalist? Why would you say something like that in front of us?"

His voice trembled without him intending it. He didn’t want his father to be insulted by a stranger. A surge of intense anger welled up within him, making it hard to control himself.

However, Tokiwa seemed unfazed. She had probably repeated such rude interviews, writing articles that captured readers' attention. The more Kiyoaki expressed his emotions, the more Tokiwa's voice took on a composed, intellectual tone.

"Once called "The Kings of the Sky," two ace pilots. The children who inherit their blood gather at the same school and compete against each other. Everyone in the Akitsu Federation wishes to know about your lives. I must write an article that responds to that. There may be difficult questions, but please bear with me."

Her tone was like a pre-recorded message. This woman is dangerous; it’s best not to get involved. Kiyoaki decided this and rose from his chair.

"I’m sorry, but I don’t want to continue this interview. I don’t want it in the article. Illia, let’s go."

He urged Illia, but she remained frozen, glaring at Tokiwa. Illia's pride wouldn’t allow her to flee while her father was being spoken about like this.

"......Please, ask your questions."

Ilia’s voice was quiet, but it was clear she had been provoked. Kiyoaki could see the atmosphere around Illia shimmering like a flame.

"Regarding your performance in the mock air battles, I’ve heard that Kreischmidt is overwhelmingly outperforming you. What do you think about this outcome?"

Kiyoaki instinctively held his breath, standing still as he looked down at Illia. He wanted to hear the answer from her lips.

"........................"

Ilia didn’t answer. Tokiwa didn’t urge her further. Kiyoaki remained paralysed.

After a long silence, Illia finally answered the question.

"That result is still a work in progress."

With just that, she fell silent again. Tokiwa pressed on.

"The final results of the mock air battles will be revealed in mid-February. Indeed, there are still about three months left. Is there a possibility for change during that time?"

After Tokiwa's question, another uncomfortable silence stretched between them. Kiyoaki was deeply concerned about Illia's response.

"I don’t know."

Ilia answered succinctly. Seeing Kiyoaki’s bewilderment, Tokiwa reacted swiftly as if to jab at Illia.

"Is there a sense of pressure not to lose to Sakagami?"

"......I feel that way toward all the students in the flight department."

"You won't bring the rivalry between your fathers into the mock air battles?"

"I don’t understand the intent of your question."

"The records indicate that Kiyoaki Sakagami shot down your father, and it would be proven that Captain Karsten is superior to Sakagami Masaharu by defeating you... Is that something you think about?"

"........................"

Ilia glared at Tokiwa, remaining motionless. Kiyoaki wanted Illia to deny it. If he were asked the same question, he would immediately deny it.

The rivalry between their fathers was irrelevant. Their achievements were not connected to their parents' standings. Such a response should be easy to state.

However, Illia merely directed her icy gaze at Tokiwa.

The eyes behind Tokiwa's glasses sparkled with the light of intrigue. It felt as if the question she had just posed had touched upon a deep-seated desire within Illia... That unspoken satisfaction radiated from Tokiwa. Without missing a beat, she pressed further.

"By the way, silence can be more eloquent than a thousand words."

".............................."

"Let’s take it to mean an affirmative response. One last question. After graduation, you will both be commissioned as lieutenants in the St Vault Navy and the Akitsu Air Force. If you were to meet on the battlefield, would you fight each other honourably to the death?"

"Tokiwa!!"

Kiyoaki could no longer contain his anger. But Tokiwa maintained her composure, focusing solely on Illia.

"Ilia, let’s go. We don’t need to answer this interview. Tokiwa, you can write whatever you want for your article, but I will protest formally when the time comes. Also, please don’t come back."

Tokiwa raised her eyes only to Kiyoaki.

"What about you, Sakagami? By defeating Kreischmidt in a duel, would you wish to fulfill your father's regrets of being called a coward...? Is that what you think?"

"I don’t think so!!"

He yelled.

"Really?"

"Of course!! Illia, this interview is meant to hurt us. We shouldn’t engage any further."

Finally, Illia lowered her gaze and stood up.

"Are you running away?"

Tokiwa threw a challenge at Illia’s back. Illia glanced back, as if she was about to say something, but swallowed her words and followed Kiyoaki out of the conference room.

Just before closing the door, Kiyoaki took one last look at Tokiwa, left behind in the room. The eyes behind her glasses were unreadable, and he couldn’t gauge her emotions. He sensed she would continue to come here in the future. With an ominous feeling, he decided he would never get involved again and left the room.

"What’s with that person? That’s way too off the mark."

As he walked down the corridor alongside Illia, Kiyoaki’s anger remained. Illia followed him closely, not even giving a nod of agreement.

"To come in and investigate someone’s family matters and then throw challenges around. It’s shameful. I’m embarrassed as an Akitsu citizen."

"........................"

"There are supposed to be polite Akitsu people, but there are those like her. All they think about is their own gain, and they’ll easily insult and demean others for it. She’s the lowest kind of adult."

They stopped under a gas lamp in the courtyard. It was already quite dark, and the chill of November had settled down to the ground.

While he expressed the emotions he couldn’t contain, Kiyoaki noticed Illia’s expression.

The bluish-purple light from the gas lamp enveloped Illia’s entire body. Her expression remained unchanged, but for some reason, his heart skipped a beat.

Come to think of it, it had been two months since he was alone with Illia. He realized this now.

"Oh... Sorry. I’ve been talking on my own."

"........................"

Illia stood silently in front of Kiyoaki, not responding or leaving. Her deep green eyes remained fixed on him.

"Um... yeah. That was a rude interview..."

For some reason, his heartbeat quickened. The sweet scent, reminiscent of grapes, wafted from her hair, making him feel good.

He knew that she was someone with whom conversation was difficult, but since they finally had this time alone, he wanted to share the things weighing on his heart.

"There’s no way we’d bring our parents’ rivalry into mock air battles... that’s just not it. We are who we are."

"........................"

"And... my performance doesn’t even compare to yours. If we were closer in scores, it would make for an interesting article, but it’s just not a competition."

His words felt foolish. He wished he could come up with something more clever to say, but he couldn’t stop himself.

"Reiner mentioned it, but I really don’t have a talent for fighter aircraft. I can escape from enemies or crash into clouds, but if I can’t shoot them down, it doesn’t matter."

"........................"

Illia offered no comments, nor did she provide any words of comfort, disdain, or anger about his inadequacy. She simply stood there, looking straight at Kiyoaki. He had realized she couldn’t engage in conversation, but it seemed this time had been wasted.

"Sorry. I shouldn’t have kept you. Well then, goodnight..."

With a sigh, he raised his right hand in farewell and turned to leave when a low, cold voice reached his back.

"If you had shot when you should have, your record would be twelve wins, zero losses, and two draws."

Her voice was hard and clear, like climbing a cliff with climbing gear.

He turned back. The blue light enveloped Illia as she maintained her usual icy demeanour.

"......Huh?"

"If converted to score, you would be in the top ten. There is no issue with your technique; the cause is psychological. Think carefully about why you should shoot down enemy aircraft. That is the only thing you need to overcome."

“...Then.”

With a single breath, Illia turned on her heel and left into the darkness.

“...Illia...”

Kiyoaki stared blankly at the darkness where Illia had vanished.

It was an unusually long speech for Illia. This was likely the first time he had seen her weave such a lengthy sentence while on the ground.

Moreover, the content was an analysis of Kiyoaki's aerial combat abilities.

He had thought Illia paid him no mind, but she had been carefully observing his manoeuvres and even calculated the scores he should have achieved. Looking back on the previous battles, it was indeed true that if he had shot when he was supposed to, he could have achieved around twelve victories. If he had pulled the trigger today, he might have won.

What was even more surprising was—

—Illia is cautious of me...

That fact filled him with immense joy. She even went out of her way to share how he could overcome his weaknesses. Considering her own performance, there was no benefit for her in doing so.

“Illia... thank you.”

He sent his gratitude into the darkness where Illia had disappeared.

—What is the purpose of shooting down enemy aircraft...?

He contemplated the message Illia had conveyed. Seriously, earnestly, and with all his being, he examined his own issues.

When he returned to the dormitory and lay down on his bed, he continued to think about Illia's words. Of course, he wanted to dispel the frustration he felt, but he also wanted to overcome his weaknesses to respond to Illia, who had generously offered her advice.

—What is the purpose of shooting down enemy aircraft?

—What is the purpose of flying on the battlefield?

—What is the purpose of killing people...?

That question was more profound and distant than he had anticipated. As he began to delve deeper, he realized he had to confront the very reason for his existence here. Moreover, there should be no justifiable reason for killing someone in the first place.

Staring intently at the ceiling of the bunk bed and listening to Reiner’s breathing from the upper bunk, Kiyoaki continued to search for an answer. He didn’t expect to find an answer to such a philosophical and abstract question, but he also understood that if he didn’t answer it, he would remain stuck with his current performance.

—Can I fly to kill people? For what purpose...?

He pondered that until he nearly fell asleep. Even as consciousness faded into darkness, the question continued to sink into his subconscious, searching for answers.

Toaru Hikuushi e no Seiyaku:V2Part3

2025-11-25T22:02:29Z

QCore:

Part 11 (Part 3 of Volume 2)
Shooting down an enemy fighter.

It's as simple as that in words, but achieving it requires a certain kind of "miracle."

—You must push all human abilities to their limits to achieve a "kill."

The words taught to Kiyoaki by Akmed back on his hometown of Messus Island exploded in his mind.

He gritted his teeth. Tilting the control stick sideways, he raised the nose and desperately chased after the enemy's tail in a right turn.

Beyond the shield, the silver aircraft was trying to escape. The vibrations accompanying high-speed flight conveyed directly into the sights. Adjusting the throttle meticulously to catch the enemy within the crosshair, the enemy aircraft slipped out of sight in the blink of an eye.

Flying at around four hundred kilometres per hour, they moved through three-dimensional space without restraint; Kiyoaki had to fit the enemy aircraft into this small crosshair and pull the trigger to shoot it down. Pilots were recognized as competent only after shooting down enemy aircraft, but Kiyoaki realized how endlessly far that path was.

If he shot down five enemy aircraft, he would earn the title of ace. Indeed, it would be impossible for an ordinary human to achieve the "kill" five times. When he was on the ground, he had thought, "Only five?" But now, engaging in mock air battles, he understood how much of a miracle it was to achieve a "kill."

However, he had no time for complaints. If he threw the controls away now, the enemy would soon take his back and shoot him down. In twenty minutes, one side had to achieve that "miracle." Chosen as someone capable of doing so, that was why the students of the flight department were flying in the sky.

—I can do it. I can do it. I can do it...

As he told himself this while pursuing the enemy aircraft, the silver silhouette struggled violently, trying to shake him off.

—I have been flying since I was a child.

—I was at the top of my class in piloting at the South River Officer School. I was taught directly by Master Akmed.

—And I am the son of the ace of the Akitsu Islands.

—I am used to mock air battles. I am not the same as I was two months ago.

—I cannot lose. No, I should not lose.

Chastising the faltering part of his mind, he fixed his gaze through the windscreen, waiting for the enemy to weaken.

In a dogfight, just as it was hard for him, it was hard for the enemy too. The opponent must also be suffering from a lack of blood flow, breathing difficulties, and the terrible cries of overworked muscles. Both sides were putting all their cultivated mental and physical abilities to the limit; whoever gave up first would lose.

Then—.

The enemy silhouette wavered and began to settle into the crosshairs.

The opponent was the first to reach their limits in stamina and morale. The fierceness of struggling like a large fish trying to shake off a hook had vanished, leaving only a position waiting to be caught.

Kiyoaki placed his right thumb on the trigger of the 7.7mm machine gun mounted beside the control stick.

All he had to do was pull the trigger, and the special round would fire, dyeing the enemy aircraft's body red, granting him victory.

But.

—Why do I have to shoot it down?

Such doubts skimmed the edges of his thoughts.

—Am I flying to kill people?

Even with a one-in-a-thousand chance, his thumb stubbornly refused to press the button.

—I love the sky. I love flying.

—Will I be flying to kill people in such a beautiful sky from now on?

—I want to be a pilot. I don't want to be a flying killer.

Those thoughts wouldn't stop. They overflowed. His thumb on the trigger became as stiff as stone.

He loved the sky more than anyone else. That pride prevented him from killing the enemy with all his skills.

And the battlefield wouldn't let even a moment of hesitation slide.

"Ah..."

Before he knew it, the enemy aircraft had regained its strength and escaped into the distance outside his crosshairs. He hastily descended to pursue it, but the enemy, having realized Kiyoaki’s superior skills, wouldn’t face him directly. It was better to draw and not lose points than to lose.

"The time limit has been exceeded. It's a draw."

The familiar voice of the instructor echoed through the speaker. Kiyoaki stared blankly at the enemy silhouette in the distance, then lowered the control stick with a pale expression.

That made it fourteen battles with two wins, zero losses, and twelve draws. Zero kills. Ranked fifty-first out of one hundred forty.

Carrying such a mediocre record, he lowered his heavy feet to the ground.

On the runway, the Gray Fox was lined up in formation, waiting for the next group of students to board for mock air battles.

At the front was Illia. Kiyoaki glanced at her awkwardly, but Illia didn't even look his way.

She was completely indifferent to him.

That reality crushed his heart.

He trudged to the air command centre to report the battle’s progress, feeling dispirited. After finishing his report to the instructor and stepping outside, he saw Illia skilfully bombard an enemy aircraft with paintballs in the clear sky. Instead of hesitation, her shooting was mechanical, like a document piercing through holes.

The closeness he had felt when piloting the same Gray Fox together two months ago was now gone. He silently watched Illia's back as she aimed for the high heavens, feeling distant...

—Illia feels so far away...

While he gazed blankly at Illia's silhouette soaring through the unoccupied sky, he suddenly heard a voice.

"Excuse me, Sakagami Kiyoaki, right?"

Startled, he turned around to see a woman he had never met approaching him with a blank expression. Stopping three steps in front of him, she pushed her glasses up with her fingertips without a smile.

"Ah, yes... I'm Sakagami."

"I am Tokiwa, a member dispatched from the Selfaust branch of the Akitsu Federation. I apologize for bothering you while you are busy. I appreciate your cooperation today."

She handed him a business card, and Kiyoaki looked closely at the woman in front of him. Trying to remember, he finally recalled.

"Oh... right, the interview today. Uh, is it happening now...?"

"No, I recognized your face, so I thought I’d greet you. The interview for the two of you will be after classes, in the student building. For now, we just need to do some filming."

Upon hearing "the two of you will be interviewed," Kiyoaki recalled.

That's right. At the request of the Akitsu Federation's national newspaper, Akitsu Daily, he was supposed to have an interview with Illia. He had wanted to refuse if possible, but the media-loving principal had readily agreed without consideration.

"I see... Thank you."

"I would appreciate it if I could accompany you for a while to capture your natural school life, but I have already obtained permission from the school."

"Uh... well... Sure, I don't mind."

Faced with Tokiwa’s authoritative announcement, Kiyoaki couldn't refuse and reluctantly agreed. With semi-long hair and glasses, and dressed in a stylish black suit that accentuated her figure, she seemed to be in her mid-twenties, exactly the type of career woman working for a major newspaper. The strong gaze behind her glasses hid undeniable intelligence and ambition.

—She looks intimidating...

Kiyoaki kept his thoughts to himself as he led Tokiwa to the group of flight department students watching the mock air battles beside the runway.

The students had been observing the media coverage of "The Seven of Eriadore" for the past two months, so they weren’t concerned that Kiyoaki was being followed by a female reporter. Instead, they seemed more interested in the skills of their peers, intently watching the sky to memorize their rivals' tactics, special moves, and weaknesses.

Kiyoaki looked up at the azure sky. Balthazar was the one fighting. It was known that he excelled in academics, but he was also ranked second in mock air battles, right behind Illia. Using the enemy’s weaknesses that he had researched beforehand, Balthazar relentlessly targeted them, striking when it mattered. The opposing aircraft was helpless against his assault and succumbed to a paintball hit in the side. The top ten were all strong, and the gap between them and the lower-ranked students widened over time.

Hawks and prey.

In the arena of aerial combat, only these two exist. Kiyoaki understood this concept intellectually. No matter how much a prey cries out for love after losing its wings, being skinned, and having its flesh eaten, it’s nothing but the lament of a pitiful loser. The hawk, unaffected by such pleas, flies in search of new prey.

—Which one do I want to be?

He asked himself that question. There was no need for an answer. Who would willingly offer their blood and flesh to the enemy? Anyone who would do so would be nothing but a fool.

—I want to be a hawk.

Without thinking, he clenched his fists at his waist. Tokiwa immediately captured his profile on camera. Though he found it somewhat bothersome, Kiyoaki continued to watch his peers’ battles until the end.

After classes ended, they had dinner in the cafeteria, and then it was time for the interview with Akitsu Daily in the student building's conference room. Tokiwa sat across the table, with Kiyoaki and Illia sitting side by side.
[[File:TokiwaInterview.png|thumb]]
"Thank you for meeting with us today, Sakagami, and Kreischmidt. Have you had a chance to review the questions I sent beforehand?"

Kiyoaki tilted his head, and Illia remained completely still. Tokiwa looked puzzled.

"Did they not arrive?"

"I... don’t remember seeing them."

"And you, Kreischmidt?"

"......Yes."

Tokiwa slightly furrowed her brows.

"It seems there was a mix-up. I had informed the principal in advance... It must be a communication issue. Normally, I should inform you later, but..."

Tokiwa fell silent. No one in the conference room spoke. An uncomfortable stillness filled the air. Both Tokiwa and Illia sank into a serene silence.

Who should break the silence first? Who should speak the words Tokiwa was waiting for? Kiyoaki found himself resenting his tendency to be overly considerate of others, and finally, he awkwardly broke the silence.

"Um, since it’s a hassle to do it twice, it’s okay to continue as we are..."

"Is that so? That helps. Kreischmidt, is that alright with you?"

"........................"

"........................"

Another long silence fell, reminiscent of a deep valley in the mountains. It felt like his heart would freeze in this stillness.

"Um, I’ll check the draft later, so it’s fine. Illia, you’re okay with that too, right? It would be a hassle to repeat the same thing."

"........................"

Ilia kept her gaze fixed on the empty space in front of her, slightly lowering her chin. She seemed to have nodded, although perhaps she didn’t. Still, Kiyoaki decided to proceed, interpreting it as a nod.

"Yes, Illia says it’s fine too. Thank you."

"Thank you. Then..."

Tokiwa took out a recording device and placed it on the table. After pressing a button, the recording tape vibrated softly and began to spin.

After confirming that the device was operational, the first question was posed.

"Both of your fathers, Sakagami Masaharu, the Flight Captain, and Karsten Kreischmidt, are sworn enemies. Do you think there will be any issues with you living the same school life as children of these two?"

Kiyoaki nearly choked on his words. Illia remained motionless.

"Sakagami, what do you think?"

Tokiwa's icy words pierced through the air. Kiyoaki swallowed hard and offered a safe response.

"Um... I try not to think about such things. We are ourselves..."

"And Kreischmidt?"

"........................"

"Kreischmidt was reported to have lost his right arm due to a betrayal by Sakagami. Do you believe that?"

Ilia's eyes glinted with murderous intent.

"......What other causes could there be?"

In a subdued tone, she returned a question for a question. Tokiwa opened her bag and placed a thick document on the table.

"This is the testimony of the Akitsu military pilots who witnessed that duel. Although there were interruptions from the wingman or other aircraft, the outcome was decided before that. The Sakagami aircraft's 'snake shot' took down Captain Karsten... Almost everyone agrees with this."

"The records of the St Vault military state that a wingman shot down my father."

"Do you personally believe that, Kreischmidt?"

Kiyoaki watched as an ominous cloud of tension began to build between Tokiwa and Illia.

This interview was going poorly. Tokiwa had come with some sort of ulterior motive, likely intending to stoke conflict between Kiyoaki and Illia to pique the readers' interest...

His instincts whispered this, prompting Kiyoaki to interject.

"Um, Tokiwa. It's not possible to discuss events that happened in the past here, so that question might not be appropriate..."

"By the way, it seems that within the military, cowards are referred to as 'Sakagami.' What do you think about that, Sakagami?"

At that moment, Kiyoaki felt as if he had been struck in the head. He had never heard of such a term.

"W-What’s that? I’ve never heard of such a thing."

"It’s said to be military slang. If you joined the St Vault air and naval forces, you would inevitably hear it."

He was unaware of it.

Kiyoaki glanced at Illia's profile beside him. She showed no response or reaction, only an increasing coldness surrounding her.

"W-What kind of person are you? Are you really a journalist? Why would you say something like that in front of us?"

His voice trembled without him intending it. He didn’t want his father to be insulted by a stranger. A surge of intense anger welled up within him, making it hard to control himself.

However, Tokiwa seemed unfazed. She had probably repeated such rude interviews, writing articles that captured readers' attention. The more Kiyoaki expressed his emotions, the more Tokiwa's voice took on a composed, intellectual tone.

"Once called "The Kings of the Sky," two ace pilots. The children who inherit their blood gather at the same school and compete against each other. Everyone in the Akitsu Federation wishes to know about your lives. I must write an article that responds to that. There may be difficult questions, but please bear with me."

Her tone was like a pre-recorded message. This woman is dangerous; it’s best not to get involved. Kiyoaki decided this and rose from his chair.

"I’m sorry, but I don’t want to continue this interview. I don’t want it in the article. Illia, let’s go."

He urged Illia, but she remained frozen, glaring at Tokiwa. Illia's pride wouldn’t allow her to flee while her father was being spoken about like this.

"......Please, ask your questions."

Ilia’s voice was quiet, but it was clear she had been provoked. Kiyoaki could see the atmosphere around Illia shimmering like a flame.

"Regarding your performance in the mock air battles, I’ve heard that Kreischmidt is overwhelmingly outperforming you. What do you think about this outcome?"

Kiyoaki instinctively held his breath, standing still as he looked down at Illia. He wanted to hear the answer from her lips.

"........................"

Ilia didn’t answer. Tokiwa didn’t urge her further. Kiyoaki remained paralysed.

After a long silence, Illia finally answered the question.

"That result is still a work in progress."

With just that, she fell silent again. Tokiwa pressed on.

"The final results of the mock air battles will be revealed in mid-February. Indeed, there are still about three months left. Is there a possibility for change during that time?"

After Tokiwa's question, another uncomfortable silence stretched between them. Kiyoaki was deeply concerned about Illia's response.

"I don’t know."

Ilia answered succinctly. Seeing Kiyoaki’s bewilderment, Tokiwa reacted swiftly as if to jab at Illia.

"Is there a sense of pressure not to lose to Sakagami?"

"......I feel that way toward all the students in the flight department."

"You won't bring the rivalry between your fathers into the mock air battles?"

"I don’t understand the intent of your question."

"The records indicate that Kiyoaki Sakagami shot down your father, and it would be proven that Captain Karsten is superior to Sakagami Masaharu by defeating you... Is that something you think about?"

"........................"

Ilia glared at Tokiwa, remaining motionless. Kiyoaki wanted Illia to deny it. If he were asked the same question, he would immediately deny it.

The rivalry between their fathers was irrelevant. Their achievements were not connected to their parents' standings. Such a response should be easy to state.

However, Illia merely directed her icy gaze at Tokiwa.

The eyes behind Tokiwa's glasses sparkled with the light of intrigue. It felt as if the question she had just posed had touched upon a deep-seated desire within Illia... That unspoken satisfaction radiated from Tokiwa. Without missing a beat, she pressed further.

"By the way, silence can be more eloquent than a thousand words."

".............................."

"Let’s take it to mean an affirmative response. One last question. After graduation, you will both be commissioned as lieutenants in the St Vault Navy and the Akitsu Air Force. If you were to meet on the battlefield, would you fight each other honourably to the death?"

"Tokiwa!!"

Kiyoaki could no longer contain his anger. But Tokiwa maintained her composure, focusing solely on Illia.

"Ilia, let’s go. We don’t need to answer this interview. Tokiwa, you can write whatever you want for your article, but I will protest formally when the time comes. Also, please don’t come back."

Tokiwa raised her eyes only to Kiyoaki.

"What about you, Sakagami? By defeating Kreischmidt in a duel, would you wish to fulfill your father's regrets of being called a coward...? Is that what you think?"

"I don’t think so!!"

He yelled.

"Really?"

"Of course!! Illia, this interview is meant to hurt us. We shouldn’t engage any further."

Finally, Illia lowered her gaze and stood up.

"Are you running away?"

Tokiwa threw a challenge at Illia’s back. Illia glanced back, as if she was about to say something, but swallowed her words and followed Kiyoaki out of the conference room.

Just before closing the door, Kiyoaki took one last look at Tokiwa, left behind in the room. The eyes behind her glasses were unreadable, and he couldn’t gauge her emotions. He sensed she would continue to come here in the future. With an ominous feeling, he decided he would never get involved again and left the room.

"What’s with that person? That’s way too off the mark."

As he walked down the corridor alongside Illia, Kiyoaki’s anger remained. Illia followed him closely, not even giving a nod of agreement.

"To come in and investigate someone’s family matters and then throw challenges around. It’s shameful. I’m embarrassed as an Akitsu citizen."

"........................"

"There are supposed to be polite Akitsu people, but there are those like her. All they think about is their own gain, and they’ll easily insult and demean others for it. She’s the lowest kind of adult."

They stopped under a gas lamp in the courtyard. It was already quite dark, and the chill of November had settled down to the ground.

While he expressed the emotions he couldn’t contain, Kiyoaki noticed Illia’s expression.

The bluish-purple light from the gas lamp enveloped Illia’s entire body. Her expression remained unchanged, but for some reason, his heart skipped a beat.

Come to think of it, it had been two months since he was alone with Illia. He realized this now.

"Oh... Sorry. I’ve been talking on my own."

"........................"

Illia stood silently in front of Kiyoaki, not responding or leaving. Her deep green eyes remained fixed on him.

"Um... yeah. That was a rude interview..."

For some reason, his heartbeat quickened. The sweet scent, reminiscent of grapes, wafted from her hair, making him feel good.

He knew that she was someone with whom conversation was difficult, but since they finally had this time alone, he wanted to share the things weighing on his heart.

"There’s no way we’d bring our parents’ rivalry into mock air battles... that’s just not it. We are who we are."

"........................"

"And... my performance doesn’t even compare to yours. If we were closer in scores, it would make for an interesting article, but it’s just not a competition."

His words felt foolish. He wished he could come up with something more clever to say, but he couldn’t stop himself.

"Reiner mentioned it, but I really don’t have a talent for fighter aircraft. I can escape from enemies or crash into clouds, but if I can’t shoot them down, it doesn’t matter."

"........................"

Illia offered no comments, nor did she provide any words of comfort, disdain, or anger about his inadequacy. She simply stood there, looking straight at Kiyoaki. He had realized she couldn’t engage in conversation, but it seemed this time had been wasted.

"Sorry. I shouldn’t have kept you. Well then, goodnight..."

With a sigh, he raised his right hand in farewell and turned to leave when a low, cold voice reached his back.

"If you had shot when you should have, your record would be twelve wins, zero losses, and two draws."

Her voice was hard and clear, like climbing a cliff with climbing gear.

He turned back. The blue light enveloped Illia as she maintained her usual icy demeanour.

"......Huh?"

"If converted to score, you would be in the top ten. There is no issue with your technique; the cause is psychological. Think carefully about why you should shoot down enemy aircraft. That is the only thing you need to overcome."

“...Then.”

With a single breath, Illia turned on her heel and left into the darkness.

“...Illia...”

Kiyoaki stared blankly at the darkness where Illia had vanished.

It was an unusually long speech for Illia. This was likely the first time he had seen her weave such a lengthy sentence while on the ground.

Moreover, the content was an analysis of Kiyoaki's aerial combat abilities.

He had thought Illia paid him no mind, but she had been carefully observing his manoeuvres and even calculated the scores he should have achieved. Looking back on the previous battles, it was indeed true that if he had shot when he was supposed to, he could have achieved around twelve victories. If he had pulled the trigger today, he might have won.

What was even more surprising was—

—Illia is cautious of me...

That fact filled him with immense joy. She even went out of her way to share how he could overcome his weaknesses. Considering her own performance, there was no benefit for her in doing so.

“Illia... thank you.”

He sent his gratitude into the darkness where Illia had disappeared.

—What is the purpose of shooting down enemy aircraft...?

He contemplated the message Illia had conveyed. Seriously, earnestly, and with all his being, he examined his own issues.

When he returned to the dormitory and lay down on his bed, he continued to think about Illia's words. Of course, he wanted to dispel the frustration he felt, but he also wanted to overcome his weaknesses to respond to Illia, who had generously offered her advice.

—What is the purpose of shooting down enemy aircraft?

—What is the purpose of flying on the battlefield?

—What is the purpose of killing people...?

That question was more profound and distant than he had anticipated. As he began to delve deeper, he realized he had to confront the very reason for his existence here. Moreover, there should be no justifiable reason for killing someone in the first place.

Staring intently at the ceiling of the bunk bed and listening to Reiner’s breathing from the upper bunk, Kiyoaki continued to search for an answer. He didn’t expect to find an answer to such a philosophical and abstract question, but he also understood that if he didn’t answer it, he would remain stuck with his current performance.

—Can I fly to kill people? For what purpose...?

He pondered that until he nearly fell asleep. Even as consciousness faded into darkness, the question continued to sink into his subconscious, searching for answers.

Toaru Hikuushi e no Yasoukyoku

2025-01-23T22:19:56Z

QCore:

[[File:Vol1.png|thumb]]
The ''A Certain Pilot's Nocturne'' series is available in the following languages:
*[[English]]

'''''A Certain Pilot's Nocturne / Toaru Hikuushi e no Yasoukyoku (とある飛空士への夜想曲)''''' is a light novel series written by Inumura Koroku and illustrated by Morisawa Haruyuki.

==Story Synopsis==
A Certain Pilot's Nocturne centers on Takeo Chijiwa, a highly skilled but rebellious ace pilot in the Amatsukami Navy. Raised in harsh conditions on a desolate coal-mining island, Chijiwa's tough upbringing shaped his formidable nature. By the time he's 22, he's a feared fighter pilot with 69 confirmed kills, known as a prodigy of aerial combat, despite his disregard for military discipline. The story follows Takeo as he fights his rival in the skies of the enemy nation of Levamme, the Seagull (Charles Karino)

== Translation ==
===Format Standards===
'''Every Chapter (after editing) must conform to the general format guidelines.'''
*[[Format_guideline|General Format/Style Guideline]]

== Updates ==
*Page created 14/10/24
*Completed 10/1/25

==''To Aru Hikūshi e no Yasoukyoku'' by Inumura Koroku==
[[File:Vol1.png|thumb]]
*Volume 1 - ([[A Certain Pilot's Nocturne, Vol. 1|Full Text]]) [https://drive.google.com/file/d/1Hg9ghe7EPO75t1-7EjdXHrgx8WPX_RVU/view?usp=sharing EPUB/PDF] (ISBN 978-4-09-451285-4)
::[[Toaru Hikuushi e no Yasoukyoku:1Preface|Preface]]
::[[Toaru Hikuushi e no Yasoukyoku:Prologue|Prologue]]
::[[Toaru Hikuushi e no Yasoukyoku:Chapter1|Chapter 1]]
::[[Toaru Hikuushi e no Yasoukyoku:Chapter2|Chapter 2]]
 

*Volume 2 - ([[A Certain Pilot's Nocturne, Vol. 2|Full Text]]) [https://drive.google.com/file/d/1bS58GA60-kXNSB0vLh6pXbdqoI6aVjA2/view?usp=sharing EPUB/PDF] (ISBN 978-4-09-451298-4)
[[File:Vol2 Cover.png|thumb]]
::[[Toaru Hikuushi e no Yasoukyoku:2Preface|Preface]]
::[[Toaru Hikuushi e no Yasoukyoku:Chapter3|Chapter 3]]
::[[Toaru Hikuushi e no Yasoukyoku:Chapter4|Chapter 4]]
::[[Toaru Hikuushi e no Yasoukyoku:Epilogue|Epilogue]]
 

==Project Staff==
===Translator===
::*Anon

==Series Overview==
* とある飛空士への夜想曲 / To Aru Hikūshi e no Yasoukyoku

[[Category:Pending Authorisation]]
[[Category:Light novel (English)]]

==Read Order==
*1. [https://www.baka-tsuki.org/project/index.php?title=Remembrances_for_a_certain_pilot To Aru Hikuushi e no Tsuioku]
*2. [https://www.baka-tsuki.org/project/index.php?title=Toaru_Hikuushi_e_no_Yasoukyoku To Aru Hikuushi e no Yasoukyoku]
*3. [https://www.baka-tsuki.org/project/index.php?title=Toaru_Hikuushi_e_no_Koiuta To Aru Hikuushi e no Koiuta]
*4. [https://www.baka-tsuki.org/project/index.php?title=Toaru_Hikuushi_e_no_Seiyaku To Aru Hikuushi e no Seiyaku]

==Related Series==
* ある飛空士への追憶 / To Aru Hikūshi e no Tsuioku [https://www.baka-tsuki.org/project/index.php?title=Remembrances_for_a_certain_pilot Overview Series] (Prequel)
* とある飛空士への恋歌 / To Aru Hikuushi e no Koiuta [https://www.baka-tsuki.org/project/index.php?title=Toaru_Hikuushi_e_no_Koiuta Overview Series] (Sequel)
* とある飛空士への誓約 / To Aru Hikuushi e no Seiyaku [https://www.baka-tsuki.org/project/index.php?title=Toaru_Hikuushi_e_no_Seiyaku Overview Series] (Sequel)

Toaru Hikuushi e no Yasoukyoku

2025-01-23T10:38:10Z

QCore:

[[File:Vol1.png|thumb]]
The ''A Certain Pilot's Nocturne'' series is available in the following languages:
*[[English]]

'''''A Certain Pilot's Nocturne / Toaru Hikuushi e no Yasoukyoku (とある飛空士への夜想曲)''''' is a light novel series written by Inumura Koroku and illustrated by Morisawa Haruyuki.

==Story Synopsis==
A Certain Pilot's Nocturne centers on Takeo Chijiwa, a highly skilled but rebellious ace pilot in the Amatsukami Navy. Raised in harsh conditions on a desolate coal-mining island, Chijiwa's tough upbringing shaped his formidable nature. By the time he's 22, he's a feared fighter pilot with 69 confirmed kills, known as a prodigy of aerial combat, despite his disregard for military discipline. The story follows Takeo as he fights his rival in the skies of the enemy nation of Levamme, the Seagull (Charles Karino)

== Translation ==
===Format Standards===
'''Every Chapter (after editing) must conform to the general format guidelines.'''
*[[Format_guideline|General Format/Style Guideline]]

== Updates ==
*Page created 14/10/24
*Completed 10/1/25

==''To Aru Hikūshi e no Yasoukyoku'' by Inumura Koroku==
[[File:Vol1.png|thumb]]
*Volume 1 - ([[A Certain Pilot's Nocturne, Vol. 1|Full Text]]) [https://drive.google.com/file/d/1Hg9ghe7EPO75t1-7EjdXHrgx8WPX_RVU/view?usp=sharing EPUB/PDF] (ISBN 978-4-09-451285-4)
::[[Toaru Hikuushi e no Yasoukyoku:1Preface|Preface]]
::[[Toaru Hikuushi e no Yasoukyoku:Prologue|Prologue]]
::[[Toaru Hikuushi e no Yasoukyoku:Chapter1|Chapter 1]]
::[[Toaru Hikuushi e no Yasoukyoku:Chapter2|Chapter 2]]
 

*Volume 2 - ([[A Certain Pilot's Nocturne, Vol. 2|Full Text]]) [https://drive.google.com/file/d/1bS58GA60-kXNSB0vLh6pXbdqoI6aVjA2/view?usp=sharing EPUB/PDF] (ISBN 978-4-09-451298-4)
[[File:Vol2 Cover.png|thumb]]
::[[Toaru Hikuushi e no Yasoukyoku:2Preface|Preface]]
::[[Toaru Hikuushi e no Yasoukyoku:Chapter3|Chapter 3]]
::[[Toaru Hikuushi e no Yasoukyoku:Chapter4|Chapter 4]]
::[[Toaru Hikuushi e no Yasoukyoku:Epilogue|Epilogue]]
 

==Project Staff==
===Translator===
::*Anon

==Series Overview==
* とある飛空士への夜想曲 / To Aru Hikūshi e no Yasoukyoku

[[Category:Pending Authorisation]]

==Read Order==
*1. [https://www.baka-tsuki.org/project/index.php?title=Remembrances_for_a_certain_pilot To Aru Hikuushi e no Tsuioku]
*2. [https://www.baka-tsuki.org/project/index.php?title=Toaru_Hikuushi_e_no_Yasoukyoku To Aru Hikuushi e no Yasoukyoku]
*3. [https://www.baka-tsuki.org/project/index.php?title=Toaru_Hikuushi_e_no_Koiuta To Aru Hikuushi e no Koiuta]
*4. [https://www.baka-tsuki.org/project/index.php?title=Toaru_Hikuushi_e_no_Seiyaku To Aru Hikuushi e no Seiyaku]

==Related Series==
* ある飛空士への追憶 / To Aru Hikūshi e no Tsuioku [https://www.baka-tsuki.org/project/index.php?title=Remembrances_for_a_certain_pilot Overview Series] (Prequel)
* とある飛空士への恋歌 / To Aru Hikuushi e no Koiuta [https://www.baka-tsuki.org/project/index.php?title=Toaru_Hikuushi_e_no_Koiuta Overview Series] (Sequel)
* とある飛空士への誓約 / To Aru Hikuushi e no Seiyaku [https://www.baka-tsuki.org/project/index.php?title=Toaru_Hikuushi_e_no_Seiyaku Overview Series] (Sequel)

Toaru Hikuushi e no Seiyaku

2025-01-17T00:57:43Z

QCore:

[[File:Volume 9 Cover Page.jpg|thumb]]
The ''A Certain Pilot's Promise'' series is available in the following languages:
*[https://www.baka-tsuki.org/project/index.php?title=Toaru_Hikuushi_e_no_Seiyaku English]

'''''A Certain Pilot's Promise / Toaru Hikuushi e no Seiyaku (とある飛空士への誓約)''''' is a light novel series written by Inumura Koroku and illustrated by Morisawa Haruyuki.

==Story Synopsis==
Seven students from different backgrounds join together to travel across the Multi Island sea to the Air Hunt Officer academy. This Journey starts the friendships which will last a lifetime, and remains intact even when the nations of the Multi island Archipelago begin to battle and tear them apart. "Even if we become enemies, we will not hate each other... Friendship is eternal"
Characters from each of the previous 3 light novel series join forces to take down the Sky Clan

== Translation ==
===Format Standards===
'''Every Chapter (after editing) must conform to the general format guidelines.'''
*[[Format_guideline|General Format/Style Guideline]]

== Updates ==
*October 10 2024 - Initial Volume being translated.
*January 14 2025 - Series completed

==''To Aru Hikūshi e no Seiyaku'' by Inumura Koroku==
[[File:CoverVol1.png|thumb]]
::*A Certain Pilot's Promise Volume 1 ([[A Certain Pilot's Promise, Vol. 1|Full Text]]) - [https://drive.google.com/file/d/1TkgyrvXqLIkZka5hqmKl8GPwKkYkRSVd/view?usp=sharing PDF/EPUB] (ISBN978-4-09-451364-6)
::[[Toaru Hikuushi e no Seiyaku:Preface|Preface]]
::[[Toaru Hikuushi e no Seiyaku:Part1|Part 1]]
::[[Toaru Hikuushi e no Seiyaku:Part2|Part 2]]
::[[Toaru Hikuushi e no Seiyaku:Part3|Part 3]]
::[[Toaru Hikuushi e no Seiyaku:Part4|Part 4]]
::[[Toaru Hikuushi e no Seiyaku:Part5|Part 5]]
::[[Toaru Hikuushi e no Seiyaku:Part6|Part 6]]
::[[Toaru Hikuushi e no Seiyaku:Part7|Part 7]]
::[[Toaru Hikuushi e no Seiyaku:Part8|Part 8]]
::[[Toaru Hikuushi e no Seiyaku:Part9|Part 9]]
::[[Toaru Hikuushi e no Seiyaku:Part10|Part 10]]
::[[Toaru Hikuushi e no Seiyaku:Part11|Part 11]]
::[[Toaru Hikuushi e no Seiyaku:Part12|Part 12]]

 

[[File:Vol2Cover.png|thumb]]
::*A Certain Pilot's Promise Volume 2 ([[A Certain Pilot's Promise, Vol. 2|Full Text]]) - [https://drive.google.com/file/d/1MNDfwPIkBPZaOeDuUCRfTXTvz1hTDnOB/view?usp=sharing PDF/EPUB] (ISBN978-4-09-451396-7)
::[[Toaru Hikuushi e no Seiyaku:V2Preface|Preface]]
::[[Toaru Hikuushi e no Seiyaku:V2Part1|Part 1]]
::[[Toaru Hikuushi e no Seiyaku:V2Part2|Part 2]]
::[[Toaru Hikuushi e no Seiyaku:V2Part3|Part 3]]
::[[Toaru Hikuushi e no Seiyaku:V2Part4|Part 4]]
::[[Toaru Hikuushi e no Seiyaku:V2Part5|Part 5]]
::[[Toaru Hikuushi e no Seiyaku:V2Part6|Part 6]]
::[[Toaru Hikuushi e no Seiyaku:V2Part7|Part 7]]
::[[Toaru Hikuushi e no Seiyaku:V2Part8|Part 8]]
::[[Toaru Hikuushi e no Seiyaku:V2Part9|Part 9]]

 

[[File:Cover3.png|thumb]]
::*A Certain Pilot's Promise Volume 3 - ([[A Certain Pilot's Promise, Vol. 3|Full Text]]) [https://drive.google.com/file/d/14-7QpGMgwug-qwWvPnCTxgezVdc_mRqq/view?usp=sharing PDF/EPUB] (ISBN978-4-09-451428-5)
::[[Toaru Hikuushi e no Seiyaku:V3Preface|Preface]]
::[[Toaru Hikuushi e no Seiyaku:V3Part1|Part 1]]
::[[Toaru Hikuushi e no Seiyaku:V3Part2|Part 2]]
::[[Toaru Hikuushi e no Seiyaku:V3Part3|Part 3]]
::[[Toaru Hikuushi e no Seiyaku:V3Part4|Part 4]]
::[[Toaru Hikuushi e no Seiyaku:V3Part5|Part 5]]
::[[Toaru Hikuushi e no Seiyaku:V3Part6|Part 6]]

 

[[File:Vol4Cover.png|thumb]]
::*A Certain Pilot's Promise Volume 4 - ([[A Certain Pilot's Promise, Vol. 4|Full Text]]) [https://drive.google.com/file/d/1qSZVjC0Yaqy2CRrDOKgCwrqVIayxl4lY/view?usp=sharing PDF/EPUB] (ISBN978-4-09-451459-9)
::[[Toaru Hikuushi e no Seiyaku:V4Preface|Preface]]
::[[Toaru Hikuushi e no Seiyaku:V4Part1|Part 1]]
::[[Toaru Hikuushi e no Seiyaku:V4Part2|Part 2]]
::[[Toaru Hikuushi e no Seiyaku:V4Part3|Part 3]]
::[[Toaru Hikuushi e no Seiyaku:V4Part4|Part 4]]
::[[Toaru Hikuushi e no Seiyaku:V4Part5|Part 5]]
::[[Toaru Hikuushi e no Seiyaku:V4Part6|Part 6]]
::[[Toaru Hikuushi e no Seiyaku:V4Part7|Part 7]]

 

[[File:Vol5Covers.png|thumb]]
::*A Certain Pilot's Promise Volume 5 - ([[A Certain Pilot's Promise, Vol. 5|Full Text]]) [https://drive.google.com/file/d/1UIUE7AqSDYpT1LvvEYRFyhfGSR7OwScK/view?usp=sharing PDF/EPUB] (ISBN978-4-09-451473-5)
::[[Toaru Hikuushi e no Seiyaku:V5Preface|Preface]]
::[[Toaru Hikuushi e no Seiyaku:V5Part1|Part 1]]
::[[Toaru Hikuushi e no Seiyaku:V5Part2|Part 2]]
::[[Toaru Hikuushi e no Seiyaku:V5Part3|Part 3]]
::[[Toaru Hikuushi e no Seiyaku:V5Part5|Part 4]]
::[[Toaru Hikuushi e no Seiyaku:V5Part6|Part 5]]
::[[Toaru Hikuushi e no Seiyaku:V5Part7|Part 6]]
::[[Toaru Hikuushi e no Seiyaku:V5Part8|Part 7]]

 

[[File:Vol6Cover.jpg|thumb]]
::*A Certain Pilot's Promise Volume 6 - ([[A Certain Pilot's Promise, Vol. 6|Full Text]]) [https://drive.google.com/file/d/1DucTBtgzbO6bKJdnHVtWDoOvOmM5Zg80/view?usp=sharing PDF/EPUB] (ISBN978-4-09-451506-0)
::[[Toaru Hikuushi e no Seiyaku:V6Preface|Preface]]
::[[Toaru Hikuushi e no Seiyaku:V6Part1|Part 1]]
::[[Toaru Hikuushi e no Seiyaku:V6Part2|Part 2]]
::[[Toaru Hikuushi e no Seiyaku:V6Part3|Part 3]]
::[[Toaru Hikuushi e no Seiyaku:V6Part4|Part 4]]
::[[Toaru Hikuushi e no Seiyaku:V6Part5|Part 5]]
::[[Toaru Hikuushi e no Seiyaku:V6Part6|Part 6]]
::[[Toaru Hikuushi e no Seiyaku:V6Part7|Part 7]]
::[[Toaru Hikuushi e no Seiyaku:V6Part8|Part 8]]
::[[Toaru Hikuushi e no Seiyaku:V6Part9|Part 9]]
::[[Toaru Hikuushi e no Seiyaku:V6Part10|Part 10]]
::[[Toaru Hikuushi e no Seiyaku:V6Part11|Part 11]]

 

[[File:Vol7Cover.jpg|thumb]]
::*A Certain Pilot's Promise Volume 7 - ([[A Certain Pilot's Promise, Vol. 7|Full Text]]) [https://drive.google.com/file/d/1Ve2hBdSxfppjTJXOIcITZLUcwXrNrZYH/view?usp=sharing PDF/EPUB] (ISBN978-4-09-451531-0)
::[[Toaru Hikuushi e no Seiyaku:V7Preface|Preface]]
::[[Toaru Hikuushi e no Seiyaku:V7Part1|Part 1]]
::[[Toaru Hikuushi e no Seiyaku:V7Part2|Part 2]]
::[[Toaru Hikuushi e no Seiyaku:V7Part3|Part 3]]
::[[Toaru Hikuushi e no Seiyaku:V7Part4|Part 4]]
::[[Toaru Hikuushi e no Seiyaku:V7Part5|Part 5]]
::[[Toaru Hikuushi e no Seiyaku:V7Part6|Part 6]]
::[[Toaru Hikuushi e no Seiyaku:V7Part7|Part 7]]
::[[Toaru Hikuushi e no Seiyaku:V7Part8|Part 8]]
::[[Toaru Hikuushi e no Seiyaku:V7Part9|Part 9]]

 

[[File:Vol8Cover.jpg|thumb]]
::*A Certain Pilot's Promise Volume 8 - ([[A Certain Pilot's Promise, Vol. 8|Full Text]]) [https://drive.google.com/file/d/1mFQvwhc7UQWThpS5PESl4RG4xCZjvo10/view?usp=sharing PDF/EPUB] (ISBN978-4-09-451556-5)
::[[Toaru Hikuushi e no Seiyaku:V8Preface|Preface]]
::[[Toaru Hikuushi e no Seiyaku:V8Part1|Part 1]]
::[[Toaru Hikuushi e no Seiyaku:V8Part2|Part 2]]
::[[Toaru Hikuushi e no Seiyaku:V8Part3|Part 3]]
::[[Toaru Hikuushi e no Seiyaku:V8Part4|Part 4]]
::[[Toaru Hikuushi e no Seiyaku:V8Part5|Part 5]]
::[[Toaru Hikuushi e no Seiyaku:V8Part6|Part 6]]
::[[Toaru Hikuushi e no Seiyaku:V8Part7|Part 7]]
::[[Toaru Hikuushi e no Seiyaku:V8Part8|Part 8]]
::[[Toaru Hikuushi e no Seiyaku:V8Part9|Part 9]]
 

[[File:Volume 9 Cover Page.jpg|thumb]]
::*A Certain Pilot's Promise Volume 9 - ([[A Certain Pilot's Promise, Vol. 9|Full Text]]) [https://drive.google.com/file/d/1crovhjqxU_SjeL-FsiPV3hicTm5_lV7O/view?usp=sharing PDF/EPUB] (ISBN978-4-09-451582-4)
::[[Toaru Hikuushi e no Seiyaku:V9Preface|Preface]]
::[[Toaru Hikuushi e no Seiyaku:V9Part1|Part 1]]
::[[Toaru Hikuushi e no Seiyaku:V9Part2|Part 2]]
::[[Toaru Hikuushi e no Seiyaku:V9Part3|Part 3]]
::[[Toaru Hikuushi e no Seiyaku:V9Part4|Part 4]]
::[[Toaru Hikuushi e no Seiyaku:V9Part5|Part 5]]
::[[Toaru Hikuushi e no Seiyaku:V9Part6|Part 6]]
::[[Toaru Hikuushi e no Seiyaku:V9Part7|Part 7]]
::[[Toaru Hikuushi e no Seiyaku:V9Part8|Part 8]]
::[[Toaru Hikuushi e no Seiyaku:V9Part9|Part 9]]
::[[Toaru Hikuushi e no Seiyaku:V9Part10|Part 10]]
::[[Toaru Hikuushi e no Seiyaku:V9Part11|Part 11]]
::[[Toaru Hikuushi e no Seiyaku:V9Part12|Part 12]]
::[[Toaru Hikuushi e no Seiyaku:V9Part13|Final]]
 

==Project Staff==
===Translator===
::*Anon

==Series Overview==
* とある飛空士への誓約 / To Aru Hikūshi e no Seiyaku

[[Category:Hosted Projects]]
[[Category:Light novel (English)]]
[[Category:Pending Authorisation]]

==Read Order==
*1. [https://www.baka-tsuki.org/project/index.php?title=Remembrances_for_a_certain_pilot To Aru Hikuushi e no Tsuioku]
*2. [https://www.baka-tsuki.org/project/index.php?title=Toaru_Hikuushi_e_no_Yasoukyoku To Aru Hikuushi e no Yasoukyoku]
*3. [https://www.baka-tsuki.org/project/index.php?title=Toaru_Hikuushi_e_no_Koiuta To Aru Hikuushi e no Koiuta]
*4. [https://www.baka-tsuki.org/project/index.php?title=Toaru_Hikuushi_e_no_Seiyaku To Aru Hikuushi e no Seiyaku]

==Related Series==
* とある飛空士への追憶 / To Aru Hikūshi e no Tsuioku [https://www.baka-tsuki.org/project/index.php?title=Remembrances_for_a_certain_pilot Overview Series] (Prequel)
* とある飛空士への恋歌 / To Aru Hikūshi e no Koiuta [https://www.baka-tsuki.org/project/index.php?title=Toaru_Hikuushi_e_no_Koiuta Overview Series] (Prequel)
* とある飛空士への夜想曲 / To Aru Hikūshi e no Yasoukyoku [https://www.baka-tsuki.org/project/index.php?title=Toaru_Hikuushi_e_no_Yasoukyoku Overview Series] (Prequel)

Toaru Hikuushi e no Yasoukyoku

2025-01-17T00:55:01Z

QCore:

[[File:Vol1.png|thumb]]
The ''A Certain Pilot's Nocturne'' series is available in the following languages:
*[[English]]

'''''A Certain Pilot's Nocturne / Toaru Hikuushi e no Yasoukyoku (とある飛空士への夜想曲)''''' is a light novel series written by Inumura Koroku and illustrated by Morisawa Haruyuki.

==Story Synopsis==
A Certain Pilot's Nocturne centers on Takeo Chijiwa, a highly skilled but rebellious ace pilot in the Amatsukami Navy. Raised in harsh conditions on a desolate coal-mining island, Chijiwa's tough upbringing shaped his formidable nature. By the time he's 22, he's a feared fighter pilot with 69 confirmed kills, known as a prodigy of aerial combat, despite his disregard for military discipline. The story follows Takeo as he fights his rival in the skies of the enemy nation of Levamme, the Seagull (Charles Karino)

== Translation ==
===Format Standards===
'''Every Chapter (after editing) must conform to the general format guidelines.'''
*[[Format_guideline|General Format/Style Guideline]]

== Updates ==
*Page created 14/10/24
*Completed 10/1/25

==''To Aru Hikūshi e no Yasoukyoku'' by Inumura Koroku==
*Volume 1 - [https://drive.google.com/file/d/1Hg9ghe7EPO75t1-7EjdXHrgx8WPX_RVU/view?usp=sharing EPUB/PDF] (ISBN 978-4-09-451285-4)
::[[Toaru Hikuushi e no Yasoukyoku:Prologue|Prologue]]
::[[Toaru Hikuushi e no Yasoukyoku:Chapter1|Chapter 1]]
::[[Toaru Hikuushi e no Yasoukyoku:Chapter2|Chapter 2]]
*Volume 2 - [https://drive.google.com/file/d/1bS58GA60-kXNSB0vLh6pXbdqoI6aVjA2/view?usp=sharing EPUB/PDF] (ISBN 978-4-09-451298-4)
::[[Toaru Hikuushi e no Yasoukyoku:Chapter3|Chapter 3]]
::[[Toaru Hikuushi e no Yasoukyoku:Chapter4|Chapter 4]]
::[[Toaru Hikuushi e no Yasoukyoku:Epilogue|Epilogue]]

==Project Staff==
===Translator===
::*Anon

==Series Overview==
* とある飛空士への夜想曲 / To Aru Hikūshi e no Yasoukyoku

==Read Order==
*1. [https://www.baka-tsuki.org/project/index.php?title=Remembrances_for_a_certain_pilot To Aru Hikuushi e no Tsuioku]
*2. [https://www.baka-tsuki.org/project/index.php?title=Toaru_Hikuushi_e_no_Yasoukyoku To Aru Hikuushi e no Yasoukyoku]
*3. [https://www.baka-tsuki.org/project/index.php?title=Toaru_Hikuushi_e_no_Koiuta To Aru Hikuushi e no Koiuta]
*4. [https://www.baka-tsuki.org/project/index.php?title=Toaru_Hikuushi_e_no_Seiyaku To Aru Hikuushi e no Seiyaku]

==Related Series==
* ある飛空士への追憶 / To Aru Hikūshi e no Tsuioku [https://www.baka-tsuki.org/project/index.php?title=Remembrances_for_a_certain_pilot Overview Series] (Prequel)
* とある飛空士への恋歌 / To Aru Hikuushi e no Koiuta [https://www.baka-tsuki.org/project/index.php?title=Toaru_Hikuushi_e_no_Koiuta Overview Series] (Sequel)
* とある飛空士への誓約 / To Aru Hikuushi e no Seiyaku [https://www.baka-tsuki.org/project/index.php?title=Toaru_Hikuushi_e_no_Seiyaku Overview Series] (Sequel)

Remembrances for a Certain Pilot:Epilogue

2025-01-17T00:51:18Z

QCore: /* Epilogue */

=Epilogue=

Time passed.

One year, two years, ten, twenty, fifty—

Things changed. They always do. People give their birth cries, live, grow old, and die. Fana and Charles were swallowed away by that very same flow of time. That's the way of the world.

And also … no matter how closely-guarded a secret is, time eventually reveals all things. That is also a way of the world.
Even after the end of the war, Operation Black-tailed Gull remained a secret for many years.

The Levamme imperial household's biggest secret was revealed when most of the people who fought in the central ocean war had died away, in an era where their grandchildren worked as pillars in society. The kings of the skies were no longer propeller-based fighters but rather stealth jet fighters.

One day a writer accidentally stumbled upon a secret record. After five years of intense research, he wrote a book, and opened the doors of Operation Black-tailed Gull to the world.

The book caused an incredible flurry of discussion between the two great countries on either side of the ocean, the Levamme Empire and the Imperial Amatsukami. Empress Fana Levamme had devoted her life to bridging the barriers between both countries, bringing an end to the long central ocean war despite the malevolent rumors of the Levamme imperial court. She was considered a beloved and revered figure even to the Amatsuvians, and had been given the name “Mother of the Western Sea”.

The truth of her escape from San Martilia was revealed.

The book became a best-seller in every bookstore for quite some time.

The contents spoke of the bombardment of the House del Moral, the formation of the Eighth Special Mission Fleet, and the development of and execution of Operation Black-tailed Gull in secret. At the time, fortunately, one of the Shinden pilots that had chased the Santa Cruz before the Great Fall was still alive, and men who read it were excited by the raw, intense depiction of the dogfight. The author, in turn, used the fullest of his imagination to capture what Fana and Charles went through in those days on the Sierra Cadis archipelago, the heartrending nature of which captured the hearts of women.

After describing their farewell over the El Bastel, the author left behind one, resigned note.

"There is no record of what happened to Karino Charles after that.

His existence was eradicated from the records of both the del Moral Aerial Knights as well as the Levamme Air Force after the completion of Operation Black-tailed Gull. It was probably done by Captain Antonio, who'd devised Operation Black-tailed Gull, and it was truly a thorough work of eradication, as no matter how many records, how many related people I chased down, I could never find out what happened to him afterwards.

It's a bit shameful, but I can't even say if Karino Charles died in combat, or survived to the end of the war.

Were the two of them able to meet again?

Or were they forever apart, unable to overcome barriers of their social class?

I do not have every answer the reader desires.

That's why you'll have to decide what happened to them yourself.

As an author, it's not an ideal conclusion, but I pray that their story came to a happy end, and I hope every reader can do the same."

The title of the book is "Remembrances for a Certain Pilot."

The great Empress who carved her name deep into history, and the nameless pilot who vanished into the blank pages of the past.

It is a story of these two that takes place over one summer—a story of love and aerial combat.

<noinclude>
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| Back to [[Remembrances for a Certain Pilot:Chapter11|Chapter 11]]
| Return to [[Remembrances for a certain pilot|Main Page]]
|-
|}
</noinclude>

Remembrances for a Certain Pilot:Chapter11

2025-01-17T00:50:48Z

QCore:

=Chapter 11=

Yellow sunlight poured onto the dark-gray floor, shining through the bulletproof glass windows that covered every side of the aerial battleship.

El Bastel. That was the name of the aerial battleship, hastily dispatched to escort Fana to the imperial capital. Of course, that wasn’t its real name, but because of the imperial family's needs the ship took the name of the fallen Eight Special Mission Fleet’s battleship. It would arrive at the imperial capital as if it were the real El Bastel.

Ridiculous. El Bastel’s Captain Marcus Guerrero clasped his hands behind his back, gazed at the blue sky beyond the glass, and sighed deeply.

Deep wrinkles covered his forehead. His eyes, set deep in his face, were a light-absorbing brown, and hair that protruded from his beautifully ornamented officer's cap showed tints of white. He was the sight typical of a veteran general who'd spent countless moons on the battlefield.
Captain Marcus turned his deep-colored eyes to the future empress, Fana del Moral.

"I want to take that pilot with me! He's the very reason I'm safe!"

Her crazy, disgraceful behavior had settled down, but now her tearful eyes were filled with fury, and forcing her tired, cracking voice, she continued to make demands of Marcus.

Once again, without showing it on his face, he silently sighed.

Currently, in the command room that was also the highest-level room on the bridge, was Marcus and Fana, the whiskered officer, and two younger officers guarding the exit so that Fana wouldn't escape from the room. He'd left ship command to the vice-captain, and he was trying to settle Fana down so the ship's morale wouldn't sink. Making a sad face, he tried to come up with excuses to the imperial prince's fiancee.

"I was ordered by the imperial prince to bring back only the Lady. I don't have the power to do anything else."

"That's terrible, absolutely horrible! Is this what the proud Levamme imperial family does? Treating the pilot that risked his life to accomplish his mission like a dog?! Tossing him food and leaving him in the middle of nowhere … is this what people normally do?!"

"My Lady, please, calm down."

Marcus shot a painful look at the whiskered officer behind Fana. It was he that forcibly brought Fana, and that had enraged her even further.
Silently scolded, the whiskered officer cleared his throat, and spoke. "The Lady is far too fond of that pilot."

Fana's eyes glared at the whiskered officer. But he hardly twitched as he continued, haughtily. "That man, when he saw the gold, drooled as he leaped for it. And he climbed back into the cockpit without even a glance at the Lady."

"Liar, he's not like that."

"If I may, mercenaries only work for money. Or flip that around: they'll do anything if you give them money. I don't know what sort of dream you’re looking at when you see him, but he's just a vulgar thing that jumped onto the mission for money. Maybe he was acting like a knight whilst he was with you, but he'll revert to a mercenary the moment he sees money. I should have let you see his expression when he saw the gold. It was like someone looking at something worth a hundred years of love," The whiskered man declared with a sharp nod of emphasis.

Fana remembered Charles' words on the rubber boat the night before, as she tried to respond.

''"Money is what motivates mercenaries. I accepted this operation for the money. That's the type of person I am."''

Momentarily, Fana wavered. That can't be, she thought, and she tried to shake away the words. But then she remembered more words from Charles that confirmed the whiskered officer's words.

''"If I have that much money, I wouldn't have to go kill people in planes. And I'll be able to build a house in some distant island, and live out my life in happiness."''

Fana's eyes became filled with tears again. Even though she'd cried and screamed and struggled so much on the little boat, she still hadn't run out of tears.

"Liar, liar! Charles isn't like that!" Though even as she said this, her words no longer had the same strength as before.

Marcus looked at Fana with painful eyes, shot an angry look at the whiskered officer to shut him up, and silently looked at the sky again.

The Santa Cruz had already flown away. Marcus felt pity for the pilot. He had flown and successfully broken through the central ocean blockade alone, yet he would never receive any accolades. He had been called upon only to wipe the rears of the catastrophic failure of the Eighth Special Mission Fleet. Marcus felt embarrassed of imperial prince Carlo, who was simply trying to take the glory of rescuing Fana.

That was when he saw something strange through the window.

"Hmm?"

As if passing by the battleship El Bastel, a fighter-like thing closed in from the cloud. He narrowed his eyes, thinking it was an enemy, but it was wagging its wings. And Marcus immediately recognized the plane as the Santa Cruz.

"Charles."

Fana's voice echoed around the command room. The Santa Cruz lazily spread its wings, and with a soft rumbling of its propeller, flew around the aerial battleship. The light rattling of its flight beat against the bridge window.

The whiskered officer muttered, irritated, "What is he up to? A mere mercenary making himself equal to an imperial vessel?"

Fana ignored the words and pressed herself against the window, waving her hand to Charles. She choked out words.

"Charles, I'm sorry, Charles."

They'd been forced apart like that because she'd shallowly thought they could go to Esmeralda together. She understood that Charles had returned for a proper farewell.

But she couldn't see Charles' face from here, and he probably couldn't see her. It looked like he was flying around the battleship, looking for her. They were too far apart.

Fana looked along the port-side of the El Bastel and caught sight of a crescent-shaped fortification. The base for a cannon was sticking outside, and she'd be able to look out into the sky from there.

Fana turned to Marcus. Pointing at the fortification, she furrowed her brow as she said, "Please, I want to go there. Let me out."

The whiskered man, not Marcus, responded. "How are you planning to disgrace yourself, now? The Lady is the fiancée of the imperial prince. We cannot allow you to roam about and act improperly."

"I just want to say a proper farewell. How is saying farewell to a man who saved my life countless times improper?"

"You are not permitted. There are 2,000 crew members here. We cannot have you do anything that could lead to misconceptions."

Fana, shoulders were trembling from irritation, walked straight to the entrance and glared at the two officers blocking her way by the heavy, steel door.

"Step aside."

The two of them clasped their hands behind their backs, unmoving, like statues. The whiskered man continued to throw words at her back.

"The Lady has not yet officially wed into the imperial house. You may give them orders once you've become the empress. You must understand your place."

The words were like needles at Fana's face. She felt like she was about to explode with anger.

Fana slowly turned to the whiskered man.

And from the bottom of her gut, the feeling of an incredible power was rising.

Fana didn't understand it, either; something primal welled forth, bringing about strength from every inch of her body.

This was something that had been lying dormant inside Fana for a long time. Something that was Fana, and yet not Fana, yet unquestionably something that belonged to her – and it was slowly seeping into her thoughts, her mind, and her body, through every pore.

When it had finished gathering inside Fana, like a torrent, one phrase echoed through the command room, from the bottom of her soul.

''"Back off."''

In that instant, lightning pierced through the whiskered man. Electricity coated in words paralyzed his whole body.

The silver-white eyes, harboring deep color that sucked away your soul, stared straight at him.

"‘Learn your place’? Who do you think you're talking to?" Without mercy, Fana's words, as if ripping through the heavens, continued to stab through the whiskered officer.

Her words were no different than before. But because of her presence, the strength of emotions behind them great. And her feelings, suppressed inside her for so long, hammered against the whiskered man, making him tremble.

He could no longer speak. He was clearly being spoken down to by a girl a third his age. Her eyes weren't filled with fury, but if at all possible, pity. Emotions like that of someone looking down on a trembling rodent, three steps away.

The two silver-white eyes, still overflowing with strength, then turned to stab at the two officers guarding the door. That moment, both of them were also shot with pressured lightning, and they stood up erect, then looked away from Fana, cowed.

The moist cherry-blossom lips opened, and like thunder, Fana's order came down on them.

''"Step aside."''

She said the same words, but the power behind them was on a different level. It was the voice of someone otherworldly, with the power to force people into submission. Coupled with that was Fana's beauty, like that of absolute light, no, even more absolute. It was twice, four times, no, thousands of times brighter, like the light of heaven.

Unbelievable beauty made people feel inferior. It made them feel like they lived in vain, like they wanted to just bask in the light. The two officers shot pleading glances to Marcus.

Marcus nodded, slowly and deeply.

"Let her through."

Fana turned around. Her eyes were not joyful, but looked like they expected more from Marcus.

"Escort Lady Fana where she pleases. Don't be rude."

Thus ordered, the two officers felt relief wash through them. Saluting, fingertips to temples, they snapped their heels together and opened the steel door for Fana.

Was Fana watching?

Charles could only hope, as he flew around the El Bastel over and over again, eyeing the 60,000 mass of steel that flew on the other side of his windshield.

The steel fortress ripped through the air with tremendous noises, dissipating clouds beneath it with its lifting devices, treating them as nothing significant at its altitude of 3,000 meters.

Its thick steel hull was silver gray, and the arched body included four 40cm main cannons, four 23cm secondary cannons, and sixteen anti-air batteries on each side. There were no stationed gunners because it was not in combat, but if every gun was managed, an island would be eliminated from the map within a night.

If he got too close to the aerial battleship, there was the danger of being ripped apart by the air stream set forth by the lifting devices. That was why Charles was flying at a radius of 500 meters with the El Bastel at the center of his circle.

If Fana were there, she would probably be at the bridge, shaped like a beaver tail near the back of the potato-bug-like body. The command room was at the top floor, surrounded by glass – it was likely she was watching from there.

He wanted to wave his hand. As long as they could part happily, that was enough. Not to leave behind a sad memory, but one they could look back on, and smile at. He wanted that sort of conclusion. That was all that he was thinking of.

Then…in one of the crescent-shaped fortifications on the right side, he saw a little girl step out, wearing a white flight-suit he'd become accustomed to seeing.

No other fortification was manned. Alone, she stood by the side of an 88mm anti-air battery, looking at the Santa Cruz.

"Fana."

There was no mistake about it. Her hair shifting in the high-altitude wind, Fana raised a hand, and in tandem with Charles' wagging wings, slowly waved her hand, once, twice, three times. He could make out what she was shouting by looking at her lips. He couldn't hear her, but he understood that it was a farewell.

Charles slid back his windshield and answered by waving.

She'd probably done something reckless and managed to get permission from the officials standing behind her. He had no way of knowing what she did, but the sight of her standing there alone made him proud.

''"Dance with me, Charles."''

From the back of his mind came Fana's request, that night on the ocean. He couldn't answer her, then. But here, 3,000 meters in the air, the stage was set for him and the Santa Cruz.

For Fana, who was entering the savage world of the imperial court, this was the least he could do. Hitting the throttle, he raised his nose to the sky. The Santa Cruz flew straight up, past the aerial battleship.

Bands of mist, cold, thin, and transparent, flew past Fana as she stood by the anti-air cannon.

If she were to reach out, she could touch the sky. Far below her, beyond the guardrail that only reached up to her waist, was a thick, aquamarine ocean, so calm that she couldn't make out any white waves.

Even though she was standing there, unprotected by anything at such a high altitude, she didn't feel any fear. There was nothing that could enter Fana's mind, now. What was filling her heart to its brim was the dancing of the Santa Cruz in the summer sky, dominating its theatrical stage.

Silver wings cruised along the blue canopy of the sky.

Taking advantage of the power output of the propeller and gravity, it quickly paced left and right, like it was stepping through the sky, and it charged forward, and it drew a circle in the sky using its tail as a pivot, and as it did a roll it stopped, quickly and precisely, like the hands of a clock, and now it was doing somersaults while rolling sideways. When it was almost done somersaulting, it suddenly turned on its back, then plummeted toward the ocean. Fana was about to cry out when the Santa Cruz, far below the aerial battleship, stabilized itself like nothing had happened, and began dancing left and right like a puppy chasing a butterfly, and began drawing circles in the summer sky, a symphony of movement.

Fana gulped as she stared, mesmerized by the dance of Charles and the Santa Cruz. If Fana had been seated in the back, she would have lost consciousness out of dizziness. It was that elegant, that beautiful a flight, so free and controlled. Even birds in the sky couldn't dance like this.

Were planes supposed to be able to draw such complex patterns in the sky? Was the Santa Cruz really supposed to be able to dance, so softly, so violently, so beautifully? She forgot time as she let her heart flow with the gentle curves and straight lines he shaped for her.

She realized that crew members had piled into the fortifications on the side of the battleship, watching Charles' aerial show, applauding and cheering. They had all been stressed out by the war, but the sudden gift from the sky filled them with joy.

Cheers and whistles were echoed every time a big stunt was performed. Smiles lined the side of the ship. Eventually, the battleship stopped moving altogether, and began observing Charles' dancing. It was probably the captain's orders. Fana thanked him from the bottom of her heart, and with the crew members, began cheering, applauding, and waving.

For one moment, when the Santa Cruz flew by Fana at her level, she was able to see his expression. He was laughing, too. And then, with a mischievous thought, he lowered himself, gained speed, and ascended.

The Santa Cruz flew high., higher and higher, until it was a black spot over Fana's head.

And then a golden light began to dance from the plane.

Fana stared up, narrowed her eyes, and stared at the golden-colored beans falling from the sky.

That … couldn't be …

It couldn't be. But Charles would do it.

Golden-colored beans tossed from the windshield fell over her head. Catching one in her palms, she realized her guess was right.

"Idiot."

His payment.

She looked up and saw Charles making tight turns over the ship, sticking one hand out of the windshield, tossing the contents of the bag into the sky. The hollow beans were crushed into powder by the air, and fell down around the battleship like a golden morning fog.

The crew members that had been watching on the fortifications realized that golden sand was falling. That moment, cheers erupted, and everyone began poking their hands out, to catch the golden dust. Everyone's cheers and happy expressions were raised to the sky, all of them stretching out both hands, to try and catch the dancing powder.

Fana continued watching the Santa Cruz, dancing overhead, and the trails of gold left behind by the silver-gray ship. Kicked around by the propeller and its air-stream, the golden beans were crushed, smashed against each other, tossed and dispersed by the wind. And with time, the aerial battleship was covered in gold.

"Idiot," she whispered again.

But this time she sounded resigned. Charles had no interest in the values of the surface, because he lived above it. To him, gold was simply an ornament for the sky.

The gold-colored mist had come to surround Fana. The dense, summer sky acted as a backdrop as golden mist rained down, and with every gust of wind, the mist would float, like a veil being lifted, and sunlight reflecting between the beans glittered. And then those motes of light struggled to descend again, caught between the guidance of gravity and the side-cutting wind, toyed with by the airstreams shot forth by the lifting devices. Like streams of water coursing through the air, like thousands of fireflies, they crashed into each other, danced, mingled, and created a scene she would never be able to see again.

This scene was Charles' farewell gift.

As a mere prop, he'd thrown his payment into the sky to make this moment eternal. Fana realized that.

The entire sky looked like it was painted blue, and as the Santa Cruz began flying away, its clean silhouette glistened with trails of golden light.

"Charles," She breathed.

Fana climbed onto the anti-air gun to her side, because she thought it'd take her closer to the sky. And then she arched her back, and breathed in deeply.

The particles of light that had been a trail for the plane became more and more scattered. And she knew that when it dissipated completely, it would be time to part.

She felt tears welling, but she forced them away. Instead, she smiled. Because she felt that was the only way to repay him. Along with a big smile, she stretched out her arms, like wings, and then embraced the golden sky Charles had left behind.

It was an irreplaceable moment. She would treasure this forever.

And she would never forget. No matter how tough things got, how sad she might feel from now on, she'd always return to this golden sky. Because she knew this place and this moment flew far beyond the providence and reasoning of the ground.

So she smiled. She waved her hands. And toward the pilot she'd fallen in love with, toward the scarred Santa Cruz, she sent her parting regrets with every inch of her body.

Throwing the empty bag out of the windshield, Charles, now feeling lighter, straightened the ship, and looked down at the battleship.

The crew members that were watching from the fortification were trying to scoop out the golden sand from the sky. After a moments’ worry for their safety, he began looking for the one Fana was on.

Amidst the golden dust, he could see her, standing on an anti-air artillery, smiling.

With the golden particles behind her, she looked straight into the sky, and, smiling, stretched her arms out, like a sunflower.

Her lips were thanking him countless times.

Good bye! Good bye!

Those words, which had no way of reaching him, for some reason sounded themselves clearly to him.

Tilting the plane to the side, and reaching out with his right hand, he waved twice, thrice. And then, he smiled at Fana.

Then, he turned to the steeple of clouds beyond his windshield.

Countless pure, white clouds were chained together beyond the bright, azure sky, bouncing and reflecting the bright sunlight.

Cyon island was beyond that steeple.

When he was a child wandering the Amadora region, he'd looked to the sky as he lay down on his side, awaiting death, having given up on finding a meaning to his life. And then, he thought it would be wonderful if he could live in the beautiful sky. This moment, just as he'd wished back then, he was able to fly freely in the sky. As if someone had listened to his prayers, and guided him.

''Let's go, then. To where I belong.''

"Farewell, Fana."

He hit the throttle. The Santa Cruz sped up. The high-pitched groan of the propeller sounded victorious as it shook the air.

Standing on the five-meter-long cannon, Fana waved without stopping. She wasn't standing on anything steady, but she wasn't afraid. When the Santa Cruz looped over Fana, it began flying toward Cyon island.

The golden particles still floating through the air covered the Santa Cruz as it left. And that golden color eventually dissipated in the wind. And as if everything was just a dream, the blanket of light melted into the color of the sky.

Her voice scratchy, she shouted the same thing, over and over again, to the sky.

"Thank you, Charles. Thank you."

She heard the propeller groan. To Fana, it sounded like the Santa Cruz' parting words.

"Good bye, Charles. Good bye, Santa Cruz."

Her choked words vanished into the sky. The flowing wind swept everything away in that moment, and the blue sky dominated the world again, as if nothing had been there at all.

Lowering her hand, she stared at the plane vanishing into the distance.

That which sparked silver-gray in the sunlight lost color as it grew further, became a tiny black dot, and vanished into the clouds. She could make out the wings stretched left and right wagging as it left, but eventually she couldn't even see that.

Still standing on the cannon, Fana stared at the airspace left behind by Charles. Countless clouds began overlapping, covering and hiding the azure of the sky.

That which she'd been holding back began trickling down her face, then was blown away by the wind, toward the back of the ship.

The translucent droplets didn't stop. She wiped them away with the sleeves of her flight suit over and over again, but they were constantly replaced.

Wind blew through her heart. It still hurt, but she forced herself to smile, feeling like the clear wind was cheering her up.

She didn't know if she was able to keep smiling. The next time she met Charles, she hoped she’d be able to smile more maturely.

A pure white cumulonimbus cloud stood like a wall in front of the El Bastel.

And the clouds continued growing into the sky. Higher and higher, they became giant columns of clouds in the summer. An endless expanse of azure cleared to the edge of the world, as if giving blessing to Fana's future.

The iciness that had accompanied her when she'd departed melted away as she stared at the path she was to take. Now there was only one, crisp woman who confidently strode forth, chin up and chest out, proudly, as she accepted what she was born with.

And the traces of the woman who would be called Empress Fana Levamme, named by Imperial Amatsukami as the "Mother of the Western Sea, could be seen in her white profile.

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| Back to [[Remembrances for a Certain Pilot:Chapter10|Chapter 10]]
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| Forward to [[Remembrances for a Certain Pilot:Epilogue|Epilogue]]
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Remembrances for a Certain Pilot:Chapter10

2025-01-17T00:50:06Z

QCore:

=Chapter 10=

"It's not the final night. You should just get on the airship, too, and go to Esmeralda. After all this work, isn't it odd you don't at least get a badge? Don't worry, I can make everyone understand."

After consuming a simple dinner of dried bread and emergency rations, Fana forced herself to sound bright.

The summer stars already hung over their heads as their rubber boat drifted on the waves. Charles forced a smile, and shook his head.

"It's not that simple. The Eighth Special Mission Fleet has to be the one that saved the Lady, to save the imperial prince Carlos' face, too. Not a refugee mercenary."

"I don't understand. Why fixate on saving face?"

"It's the government's job to make simple things look complex."

After a moment of glancing here and there, looking unsatisfied, Fana sounded determined and continued.

"Then, leaving that aside, wouldn't they at least allow you to step on the airship with me, and watch over the festivities?"

"What would happen to the Santa Cruz?"

"We can get someone else to pilot it home. Yes, that would work. They'll listen to me if I ask. Right? Let's go to Esmeralda together. I'll take you around the city when I'm free.” Fana clung to her dreams.

It would be wonderful if she could. Charles felt a bit lonely having to leave Fana like this, too.

However, mercenaries can't see any dreams.

Charles inhabited the rock bottom of society, while Fana dwelt at the very top. It was fortune's mischief that they were able to coincidentally spend time together, but they were like the earth and the star. When the time came, they had to return to their own worlds.

But Fana wouldn't listen, no matter how much he said that. She wanted to bring Charles to the imperial capital Esmeralda at any cost, to drag him along in the parade. And no matter what he said, she wouldn't budge from that.

So Charles decided. Even if he had to lie, one that might hurt Fana, he'd have to mollify her about parting by tomorrow.

"Let's set this straight, I'm just a mercenary. I can no longer help the Lady, and if I do as the Lady wishes, I won't be able to get my payment. That would leave me in quite a bind."

Fana opened her eyes wide, and then blinked, at Charles' words. Feeling stabs in his heart, he continued.

"Money is what motivates mercenaries. I accepted this operation for the money. That's the type of person I am."

"You're lying. Why are you lying like that now?"

"I'm not. I accepted this job under the condition that we would part here. And if we don't, I won't receive my reward. It's a proper, equitable reward that would let me enjoy life three times over. Are you telling me not to accept that?"

"No, but-"

"If I have that much money, I wouldn't have to go kill people in planes. And I'll be able to build a house in some distant island, and live out my life in happiness. Is that bad?"

"It's not bad... but, then, are you alright with never seeing me again?"

Charles' heart throbbed at the question. And he knew exactly why.

But…he couldn't put himself at the front, here.

Charles berated himself.

Even now, the del Moral Aerial Knights were fighting. Six months after the war broke out, and they numbered less than half. If he were to just wander over to the imperial capital with Fana, he wouldn't be able to face his comrades that were fighting for their lives, nor those who'd already died. And this operation, to begin with, was possible because of their sacrifice.

Stuck between two contradictions, Charles couldn't answer the question. He wanted to lie and say he was fine with it, but the words got stuck in his throat.

That gave Fana all she wanted.

"See? We've just become friends, it's not right that we part tomorrow. It's alright, as long as I request it, you'll be rewarded, and you'll also be able to take part in the parade. After you get your reward, you should quit the Knights and live in Esmeralda. Then we could meet at times, right?"

"Lady, there's no end to it if you keep talking about dreams."

"What? You're so pessimistic. You just did what no one could do, so you can be more haughty about it. When the people come to pick me up, you can look down on them. They've done nothing, and all they're doing is sideswiping your glory," Fana said, as she puffed her cheeks. For some reason, her personality dramatically changed over the trip, or rather, she returned to the Fana of old. Staring with irritation at Charles' wishy-washy attitude, she continued firing severe words at him.

Not seeing any grounds being given by either party, Charles decided to put up a white flag. Night was passing, and he felt there was no point in arguing about tomorrow further.

"Fine, sure, whatever, I surrender. The Lady may do as she pleases with me."

"What is with that careless attitude? You're making me sound like a selfish, stubborn girl."

"I only see a selfish, stubborn girl in front of me."

"My, how rude. I listened to your excuses. I just won't accept them," Fana said, as she looked at Charles with an "duh" expression. For an instant, Charles imagined the imperial prince Carlo being whipped by Fana, but he decided to wave that image away.

"Alright. Then Charles will also step on the ship, and go to Esmeralda, okay?"

"Yes, sure, alright. I'll go with you wherever."

"Um, and I also have one more request."

"Y-Yes?"

Charles was already being vigilant, but Fana said something completely unexpected.

"Tell me more about your mother's story."

"Huh?"

"The story your mother told me, as she sat by my bed. She ended up being fired because of me, so I never got to hear the rest of it. Charles must have heard the same story, right?"

Fana was talking about the Amatsukami history. Of course, like Fana, Charles had also been told the story as he went to sleep, and he remembered most of it.

"Where did you leave off?"

"Where the hero Nobuyasu was killed by Katsuhide's betrayal. The formerly Nobuyasu's vassal-in-charge-of-sandals was leading an expedition army to get revenge, and that's where the story ended."

"That's the most fun part!"

"Exactly. I wanted to know the rest, and I looked for books, but, you know, our library had absolutely nothing on the Amatsukami, so I could never find it," Fana said mournfully, and then she looked at Charles with hopeful eyes.

Charles smiled. He would happily answer this sort of request. And he thought it was a good thing that the empress-to-be was interested in the Amatsukami history.

"I can't tell it as well as my mother, but I'll try to imitate her as best I can."

Fana's face lit up in a bright expression, like a spring flower.

"Thank you, Charles. I'll go to sleep as I listen to the story, like I did when I was a child."

"Yes, please do. I'll keep telling it until the Lady sleeps."

Fana rested her back against the boat, pulled the blanket to her shoulders, and looked at Charles with sparkling eyes.

After a lawyer-like harumph, Charles quietly, and somewhat awkwardly, recalled the story his mother told him, and told it to Fana.

Under the starry night in deep silence, there was time for just the two of them.

A very satisfying, filling feeling swirled around Fana's body like a spring brook. Something that had been stashed away inside her consciousness, that had been compacted, was softly let loose, melted, and was washed away. And in its place was an innocent, pure, and clear thing.

She wished she could stay like this forever. With Charles, falling asleep whilst being rocked by waves, and then when morning came they'd turn over the silver wing, and rise, flying, into the far sky. How wonderful it would be.

Letting her mind wander to the far, ancient times of the story Charles told, Fana embraced her happy dreams. It wasn't time to part yet, because tomorrow, when the airship came to pick them up, she'd step on it with Charles, and go to the parade in the imperial capital Esmeralda. Telling herself that, she sank into the depths of her consciousness.

Hearing soft, regular breathing emerge from Fana's mouth, Charles ended the story.

Fana's joyful face was lit by the lantern light as she rested her back against the side of the boat.

Her blanket was on the verge of sliding off, so he brought it back up to her shoulder. And then he, being careful not to wake her up, lay her down on her side. She giggled a bit, probably feeling tickled, and then quickly curled up on her left side, and continued sleeping.

It was a delicate back. And soon, on that delicate back, would be the weight of the Holy Levamme Empire. And she would soon be stepping into the royal court, with that delicate back, into the hive of evil spirits, all of which were filled with greed to their core.

He turned off the lantern, and only the light from the stars remained on the ocean surface. Charles stepped off the boat and onto the wing of the Santa Cruz.

He felt fondness. She'd listened to his clumsy wording of the story with all of her attention, holding her breath at every turn. And that sight left him with a pang of nostalgia. Maybe his duty was to grab Fana, just like that, and fly the Santa Cruz in a direction that was neither Levamme nor Amatsukami.

How many times had he pondered this before? But the answer was already decided upon, and there was no second-guessing it. He felt pathetic.

Tomorrow, Fana was confident he would step onto the airship with her, but that was probably quite impossible. This operation was pointless if the Eighth Special Mission Fleet didn't complete it. Charles accepted this mission fully aware that his glory would be sideswiped. The tremendous reward certainly included payment for his silence. Tomorrow morning, they would part ways. All he could do now was to smile happily, so that Fana would be able to live with energy the rest of her life.

He kept persuading himself with these thoughts as he sank into the seat of the cockpit, and looked at the sky.

He covered himself in a blanket, and let his soul drift toward the countless stars as he waited for sleep. There was no wind, and the warm, summer night surrounded him, making for a difficult sleep.

The sleeves of the sky became colored, without a sound.

Countless clouds overlapped each other and became stained the color of roses. They were formed in varieties of shapes, and the silhouettes of crossing clouds slowly became golden.

Eventually, the sky was set ablaze like a wildfire from the horizon, and that crimson traveled across the sky like a caught fire.

In no time, the bright red morning sun showed its face over the horizon. The underbellies of the eastern clouds were struck by sunlight from below and reflected golden tints. The dawdling clouds were dark gray and brass-colored, with red and blue intermingled, displaying an otherworldly mix of colors difficult to describe with words.

Charles' eyes slowly opened, and he understood it was morning from the colors coming from the other side of the windshield.

Pushing off his blankets, he yawned as he stretched his back. The muscles along his body screamed, because he'd slept in such a tight space.

He poked his head out past the windshield, thinking he should wake Fana, but he realized that wouldn't be necessary.

"Good morning, Lady."

He called out, and Fana, sitting on the edge of the Santa Cruz' wing, looked up at Charles as she swung her legs back and forth.

"Good morning, Charles. Look, it's a splendid morning."

The blazing red in the sky tinted Fana's pure, white skin pink. Light reflecting off her hair melted into the ocean mist.

He noticed the rubber boat Fana was supposed to be sleeping in was no longer tied to the tail.

"The boat?"

"I packed it away," She said, as if that was obvious. Like she wanted to say, I can do at least that much. She'd probably learned how, by watching Charles.

Charles stepped out of the cockpit, stood on a wind, and looked at the direction Fana was gazing in. The sun, coming from the east, had risen completely over the horizon, and was slicing over the clouds, emitting countless sunrays into the sky.

"Beautiful."

"It really is."

Fana straightened her back, placed both hands on the wing, kicked both of her legs out, and smiled at Charles.

"I wish we could bring the Santa Cruz with us to Esmeralda. It worked so hard for us over the trip. I feel like it's another friend."

"That's a normal feeling among pilots. Planes are battle friends you entrust your life to. It means the Lady has become a pilot, too."

"My, really? A pilot?"

"You were able to draw an enemy plane that close, and then shoot it down, so you're a first-rate pilot. I'm surprised you were able to stay silent until you got such a good chance."

"Charles, you're not just being kind, are you? Because I'm feeling really happy."

"It may sound over-the-top, but it was really incredible. I, as well as the enemy, was completely tricked. If it weren't for that, we wouldn't be here."

Fana happily smiled.

"I'm glad I was able to be of use."

Fana carefully caressed the wing under her. The plane was riddled with holes, and after being hit by so many explosions, places here and there were burnt and blackened.

It was a beautiful, glittering body on the day of departure, reflecting the sunlight perfectly, but now it was covered completely in scars, dirt, and its paint was coming off. And Fana was filled with a natural feeling of love for this wounded Santa Cruz.

Fana could understand why pilots call the planes they ride on their beloved. Because she could feel an attachment to the dirtied plane in front of her.

"When the war ends and it becomes peaceful again, I want to fly. Me, Charles, and the Santa Cruz, the three of us."

"Yes, that would be nice."

The end of his sentence was punctuated by a large explosive sound.

Charles turned around, toward the western sky that was becoming blue.

Basking in the light of the sun rising in the east, at the very edge of the western horizon was the silhouette of the pink full moon. And as if sent forth by that full moon was a jet-black airship glistening as it wavered.

That shadow was headed toward them. Vroom, vroom, the lifting device groaned like the sound of waves, even from its far distance.

Fana realized it, too, and, still seated on the wing, turned her upper body around toward the western sky. And then her eyes were filled with despair. She quickly turned back to the east, and kicked her legs back and forth, as if she never saw anything.

Charles narrowed his eyes. Roughly 10,000 meters away, at about 500 meters altitude, he tried to discern its class by its silhouette.

Surprisingly, it was an aerial battleship that had come to pick her up. It was roughly 300 meters long, probably 40 meters wide. Levamme's biggest battleship, with a displacement of over 60,000 tons.

Under the potato-bug shaped body were lifting devices shaped like sandals. From the front, it had a silhouette similar to a hanging bell. And on other side of the hanging bell was a number of crescent-shaped fortifications. He could barely make out the shadows of the cannons fixed in them. A bridge similar to the neck of a hawk was placed on the upper part of the ship, and a giant radio transmission device was spinning on top of the bridge.

It was justifiably likened to a fortress in the sky. It was probably the same type of battleship sent off in the Eighth Special Mission Fleet. They would call it the sole survivor of the Special Mission Fleet and carry Fana back to the imperial capital Esmeralda.

"Quite a welcome," He said to Fana's back, but she didn't turn.

She murmured, confirming that she heard him. "Charles is stepping on that, too, right?"

He wanted to answer, but the words got stuck in his throat, again. He didn't know how to answer. So he answered with silence.

"Right?" Fana asked, again. Charles didn't respond.

Fana tucked her legs under her and stood up on the wing, then walked toward Charles with a stern look.

"Charles."

Being called out thus, Charles quietly answered.

"I probably cannot ride on that ship. They'll reject it."

"Don't worry, I'll ask them," Fana said, confident. It was the same thing as yesterday. Charles opted against saying anything to rile her up anymore. They would know the outcome soon enough. What he feared was a sad parting that would scar Fana's soul.

The aerial battleship's shadow grew larger and larger. The groaning of the lifting device also grew in force. The world trembled, like it was portending misfortune.

The two of them silently watched the ship come closer. The vague silhouette gradually clarified, and the cannons and their bases could be seen in the fortifications on every surface.

About 3,000 meters away, the aerial battleship began a light descent from 500 meters altitude. The short and stout nose angled upward, and like the landing of a plane, it dragged its tail into the ocean, settled into an angle of elevation and, as it continued progressing forward, slowly returned its nose parallel with the ocean surface.

The sound of impact of the heavy clump of steel displacing 60,000 tonnes was like the ominous rumbling of distant thunder. Mist sprayed on either side like the parting of the ocean, rising higher than the height of the ship itself, and it boomed as mist obscured the battleship for an instant.

The generals on the bridge had already found the Santa Cruz. Slowly, they turned, and at around 1,000 meters distance it came to a stop, its port-side facing them.

The big wave created by the ship reached them. The Santa Cruz wobbled, and Charles held Fana's hand.

They locked eyes. And their intertwined fingers held fast to each other.

For a moment, Fana looked like she would cry, but she quickly erased that with a smile.

"Congratulations, Charles. You were able to do something no one else could do."

"We, were able to do it. If the Lady hadn't saved the Santa Cruz, I would be fish-feed right now."

"Stop deferring so much, you should puff your chest out and be proud. Even if no one else knows, I'll always remember what Charles did."

They saw a small boat lowered by crane from the port-side of the battleship. The moment the boat hit water, its motor began running, and it sailed toward them, leaving white foam in its wake.

It was so fast it felt boorish, and after looking at the small boat going in a straight line toward them, Fana looked up at Charles.
Under the sunrise light, the two embraced, circling their arms around each other.

Fana placed an ear to Charles' thin chest. She could feel Charles' heartbeat from across the flight suit stained with the odor of metal hydride gas.

It was beating to the same tune as Fana's. No matter what class they were, his heartbeat was the same as Fana's, the rhythm of a person.
Softly embracing Fana, Charles spoke the thankful words he'd always wanted to say.

"When I was a kid, I was really happy the Lady treated me as a person. Up to that point, I'd never been treated as a person."

"... ... ... ..."

"After that, there were times I felt like it'd be easier to go bad, but I'd always remember the Lady, and it supported me. Because someone of such grand stature had bothered with someone like me, so I resolved to live a life I could be proud of, as payment."

"Stop, it sounds like you’re saying words of parting."

Fana gripped Charles.

"Charles is getting on that ship with me. And we'll go to Esmeralda together. And you'll quit being a pilot during the war, and become a cook. You should start a store, with the reward."

Charles forced himself to respond to Fana's request. His honest feelings welled up from his heart, and moved his mouth.

"I may do that when the war ends. But for as long as the war continues, I shall continue to be a pilot. I can't just run away, leaving my comrades. Even now, they're fighting with enemies they don't hate, and dying. Dying alone in the sky, with no one to mourn for them."

When Charles finished speaking, a rough, crude voice angrily shouted.

"Get away from her!"

The little boat had arrived next to the Santa Cruz. One was a well-built, relatively prime¬of-life officer with two whiskers, and the other seven were young high-ranked officers.

The prime-of-life officer had shouted. Fury was in the back of his eyes, and his lips were trembling with anger as he shouted.

"What are you doing? Learn your place and get away, get away from her you fool."

His anger was directed at Charles. He immediately released her, and opened his palms and placed them next to his head, like he was showing he had no weapons.

The seven officers ran up to the Santa Cruz. And like they were tearing a victim away from a kidnapper, surrounded Fana, and dragged her to the little boat.

"Hey, wait, wait!"

Fana's voice was close to a scream. But the officers ignored Fana's resistance, and as if carrying her, took her from the wing to the boat.

"Stop, listen to me!"

Fana was desperately struggling whilst being held down. But no one would listen to her.

Charles glared at the officer with whiskers.

"Pretty rough handling of the empress."

The whiskered officer ignored that, and shoulders still trembling, shouted.

"I didn't see anything. What you and the empress were doing, while we were coming. Nothing."

After yelling his furious words, he put his hand to his chin, and scratched his beard, irritated.

One of the young officers was carrying a bag with the payment over his shoulder, and he stepped onto the Santa Cruz. When the whiskered officer coughed, the bag was thrown to Charles' feet, making a heavy thud. It was like feeding a dog.

Charles was used to this sort of class treatment. It hurt him inside, but he couldn't show it.

"You're not going to confirm it?"

The whiskered officer called to Charles, who wasn't moving to open the bag. Charles responded by shrugging his shoulders.

"Strange fellow. Here, I'll check it for you."

[[Image:Remembrances for a Certain Pilot-8.jpg|thumb]]

The whiskered officer hunkered over, as if being humiliated, and opened the bag. Inside was literally pure gold. The reward for this operation was five kilograms of Martilia gold. Even his white beard was reflected in gold.

Hem, he cleared his throat, and then the prime-of-life officer stuck his thick hands into the bag, and scooped a bit, as if to show it off to Charles.

"With this much money, there's no need for you to keep working as a mercenary. You could make a love haven filled with beautiful women and live your life in ecstasy. Damn, you've made off well."

The prime-of-life officer's hand was filled with golden sand. Each bit of sand was the size of a cacao bean, and if you were to crush one in your hand, it would make a clean sound as it broke, dropping beautiful golden powder into the area.

The whisker looked up disgustingly at Charles as he put the gold he'd scooped up into his pocket. Then, standing up, he patted Charles' shoulder.

"I'll stay silent about what I just saw. Thank me. If I were to tell him the truth, you'd be executed tomorrow."

That was the trade with the pocket full of gold. Charles was speechless, and simply shook his head.

He'd just finished a mission that would change the battlefield, and was given neither merit nor thanks. He was simply thrown a silencing fee, and blackmailed over a trivial thing.

This was the truth of the Empire's class structure that he'd lived with all his life. Bestado weren't treated as humans in this kingdom. He knew that, but he still felt torn by it.

The whiskered man left Charles on the Santa Cruz and stepped onto the little boat. Fana screamed, still being held down by the young officers.
"No! Charles, Charles is coming, too!"

The man was stupefied by Fana. The empress-to-be was worrying this much over a refugee mercenary, and he couldn't comprehend why.

"Go."

With an irritated order, the little boat's motor began groaning. The tail of the boat left behind white foam, and the calm ocean surface was split apart.

"Charles, Charles!"

Fana's scream was covered by the motor's rumbling. Her expression contorted, Fana was trying to get back to the Santa Cruz. But the officers lined the back of the boat, stopping her, and covered her view of Charles.

Charles couldn't move. He thought he should say something, but he was a mercenary, and she was the empress of the future. They were too far apart. They weren't supposed to talk to each other, ever.

Maybe his sense of social class had been numbed because they'd been together for so long. When the whisker and his officers cut in between them, the knowledge that he was a bestado once again stabbed through him. The binding of his consciousness to being a refugee slowly awakened his weak feelings, and nailed him to the spot.

"Charles!"

That was the last scream he heard.

The tail of the ship, for an instant, vanished into the water, and rough waves came forth from it.

Just as quickly as it came, the little boat boorishly cut through the ocean at a high speed.

Charles couldn't move.

Fana, on the small boat, became smaller and smaller, leaving behind a white trail. All he could do was stand on the wing and watch. Deep down, he was screaming, like Fana. But Charles couldn't move.

All of a sudden, wind had returned.

The white waves were showing silver sparkles.

Charles had been left behind, alone on the Santa Cruz' wing.

He looked up. Blue was beginning to win against sunrise. Light was already covering the canopy of the sky, and pure, white clouds were drifting over Charles' head.

When he looked ahead again, he saw the aerial battleship, some 1,000 meters ahead, lower a wire hook to bring the little boat with Fana up.

The bag, its mouth still opened, lay at his feet. He kneeled down and put his hand into the bag, scooping with his hand like the whisker. The golden beans looked even prettier with the aquamarine backdrop.

He re-wound the bag shut, carried it over his shoulder, and stepped into the cockpit. Sitting down in the cockpit, he tossed the payment into the back seat, and looked at the dashboard.

He would have to go to the La Pista airbase some 110 kilometers away on Cyon island. Then, he'd join with the Levamme airforce, receive a single-seat fighter plane, and join combat. The airbase was being attacked on a daily basis, and he heard they were constantly under the threat of ambush. He felt like he'd never return to San Martilia alive. Or rather, he didn't even know if there was a point in returning. After all, the only thing that awaited him was a battle against despair.

Like the whiskers had said, with this much money, he could live elegantly, not bothering to return to the fight. But he wasn't the type to be able to do that. Other pilots were fighting for their lives, so he would, too. To Charles, that was the obvious thing to do.

He turned to the back seat. Fana was no longer there.

Behind his determination to return to battle was an empty feeling inside of him.

Fana would probably be crying, by now. In the end, all they did was have a sad parting. He felt guilty over not being able to do anything when it mattered, and that heavy pain filled his lungs.

But what could he have done? It was decided that they would part, today, and he had no right to say anything to the high-ranking officials. On the surface, it was always be treated any which way, and get trampled over. For Charles, born into the refugee class, that was the only way to live.

The Santa Cruz' propeller began turning. The aquamarine plane began blowing mist, and slowly moved forward.

At the edge of his sight, the aerial battleship was blowing mist everywhere. The lifting device' rumbling was swirling the waves, and a whirlpool was born in the battleship's surrounding, with dense mist forming around it.

After the Santa Cruz' floats had kicked off of the ocean surface, the aerial battleship also belatedly began its ascent. Amidst the milky-white mist, waves spread out from the battleship. It was like a storm under the battleship.

And the two ships, one big, one large, that ascended into the sky, pointed their noses in opposite directions. Charles to the La Pista airbase, toward the awaiting enemy; the battleship to the imperial capital Esmeralda, where the celebration parade was undergoing its final preparations. The battleship hovered at about 1,000 meters’ altitude, turning its long body clockwise with a groan.

The Santa Cruz ascended, turning its tail to the battleship, without wagging its wings.

At about 3,000 meters’ altitude, Charles looked behind him.

The battleship, far in the distance, simply looked like the size of a seagull. Awaiting clouds tried to hide it.

''I can't see Fana anymore.''

Those words popped into his mind when he wasn't expecting it.

''Fana's probably crying.''

The words kept coming, ignoring his will.

No, maybe these were the words of the Santa Cruz. He could feel something coming through the control stick he was gripping with both hands.

''I have to say farewell to her.''

The words soaked into the deepest parts of Charles' consciousness. He didn't know whose words they were. Maybe they were his, maybe they were the Santa Cruz', or maybe they were voices from a part of himself he never knew existed. He didn't know whose voice it was, but the words reverberated around the bottom of his soul.

''Let's go back.''

As the voice echoed, he felt strength rise from the bottom of his gut. Like clear and pure torrents washing away tiny millet grains floating on the surface of a river, all of Charles' shallow facades were overwhelmed by that strength, crumbling away like a castle built of sand.

"To Fana."

Charles found his voice overlapping with that voice. The control stick was naturally tilted to the side. The Santa Cruz' propellers responded to the rudder's movement, and let out a high-pitched wail. To Charles, it sounded like the Santa Cruz was rejoicing.

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| Back to [[Remembrances for a Certain Pilot:Chapter9|Chapter 9]]
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| Forward to [[Remembrances for a Certain Pilot:Chapter11|Chapter 11]]
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</noinclude>

Remembrances for a Certain Pilot:Chapter9

2025-01-17T00:49:33Z

QCore: /* Chapter 9 */

=Chapter 9=

"I don't remember what happened yesterday," Fana said in a grudging tone. She stood on sand dunes covered with the morning mist, a flush on her face. "Really, I don't remember anything."

But he could tell from her expression that she clearly remembered everything. Holding back his desire to tease, Charles answered with a nonchalant expression.

"I forgot what I spoke to the Lady about, too, whilst we were being chased, so this makes us even."

She glared at Charles, vexed, and turned away.

Charles moved his arms and legs after standing up, doing a light warm-up exercise.

Because he'd rested a whole day, he was in close to perfect condition. Even the wound on his temple didn't hurt that much anymore.

He looked at the western sky that was becoming brass. Countless clouds that had been drawn out with invisible ink in the clear, biting morning air filled the sky. Cloud density around seven or eight. It was perfect for taking flight.

"There are good clouds. Let's take off," He said to Fana, who was still sitting on the dune.

A slight color of protest appeared in her eyes, reflecting the morning sky.

"We can't stay on this island forever. The enemy may begin to land, to try to find us. We must fly, to survive."

"I know."

Fana's response wasn't very enthusiastic. It was obvious she wanted to stay on this island more. But he couldn't acquiesce.

After waking himself up more with some more light exercise, with Fana in tow he returned to the plains where the Santa Cruz was hidden.

Maintenance had gone well, and the metal hydride stack was in good condition. When he powered the plane, it made a healthy sound as it began to vibrate, and the propeller smoothly began to spin.

After making sure Fana was seated, he closed the windshield.

Beyond the backup windshield, which they'd installed after getting on the island, was a blue sky that seemed right out of oil painting.

"It was a good island."

"Indeed."

"It's a shame we must leave it, but it's time to go. To our last flight."

"... Indeed."

After a short conversation over the voice pipe, he turned up the throttle and pushed the control stick forward. As the plane dashed forward, air pressure gathered under the wings.

Ultramarine-colored wings reflected the sunlight, and the Santa Cruz ran into the sky. The propeller's groan was clean, and the comfortable plus-G reverberated over his stomach. Paradise grew smaller in Fana's sight. The transparent mountain cuffs around the island left her vision, and eventually, the dark-green island melted into the ultramarine expanse. Fana stared distantly toward the expanse, where the island should be, filled with parting regret.

The nose of the plane was pointed towards the La Pista airbase on the imperial island of Cyon. Charles climbed 3,000 meters before making the plane parallel to the horizon.

Working hard to slap himself out of the relaxed life of the uninhabited island, he focused on the airspace in front of him. He couldn't see anything like a patrol plane. He confidently skipped from one cloud to another, flying covertly. And because he was too confident that he could escape with this much cloud…he misjudged.

It was an hour after taking flight that his instincts as a pilot sniffed out the strangeness of the situation.

He glanced in every direction from behind his flight goggles. He was piercing through the smatterings of clouds, looking into the skies beyond. Around him, torn-up-looking clouds were everywhere, becoming stratus clouds at altitudes 4,000 and 2,000 meters. And he silently flew through the world between those layers. The indigo-blue-colored clouds stood out more than the blue sky. And the torn clouds covering the horizon made it difficult to see. They obstructed his attempts to look at the sky, so it was difficult to keep watch.

He couldn't see anything … but they were there. His spine told him so.

He could smell something like steel. He could smell several steel clumps in this airspace.

The enemy already knew where the Santa Cruz was.

It was the same feeling as when he'd flown right into a fleet. The radar the enemy carrier carried must have been really good. They'd already found him, before he could find them, and they were getting in position to pounce. And Charles' experience and instincts alerted him to that before he could see them.

He'd underestimated them.

He thought he could get away if he kept watch. But if the enemy had perfected a very good radar, things would change. The naked eye would be obstructed by clouds, but radars wouldn't. Even if he were to fly into a cloud, the pulse fired from the radar would find the Santa Cruz anyways, bounce back, and tell them exactly where he was. If the superiority of their planes wasn't all – if the Amatsukami had vastly superior radars, too – then this war would only end in misery for the Empire.

"Enemy planes behind, to the left."

Fana's tense voice came across the voice pipe. When he looked in that direction, he saw in the distance the narrow, potato-bug-shaped ship.
The enemy ship was flying on the same plane as the Santa Cruz, on the other side of the cloud. It was almost certainly the San'un type high-speed destroyer he'd run into at the Great Fall. The signal light that was flickering near the bridge was probably communicating with ships in the area. But because he was surrounded by clouds, he wasn't able to see exactly what was around him.

Decisions made in flight led directly to life or death. Aerial combat was like a constant chain of life-or-death decisions. There was no one you could discuss things with, and you had to make one choice out of hundreds, and depend on it with your life.

This time, Charles' decision was to fly higher in order to better see the enemy’s numbers and positioning.

After hitting the throttle once and gaining the necessary speed, he pulled the control stick toward him. Along with a low groan from the propeller, the Santa Cruz pierced through the clouds as it ascended.

"To the right and below, two more enemy planes."

Fana's nervous voice reached him. As he ascended, he looked down behind him, and saw the other two San'un-class destroyers. Like the other one, they were flying on the same plane as the Santa Cruz. They'd already caught sight of him, and were flying after him.

They were pretty fast for their size. The Santa Cruz was just a bit faster, but it'd take around five or six minutes to completely lose them.

It takes your ears, eyes, every limb, all five senses, even a sixth sense, to control a plane with your body and mind while evading gunfire. That made five or six minutes basically the same as five or six hours to a pilot.

He cut across the air diagonally, and pierced through the clouds hovering at 4,000 meters’ altitude. It was a pure, blue sky with nothing in view. The last time, the aircraft carrier was floating above them, but this time there was not one ship at an altitude higher than the Santa Cruz.

After climbing to about 8,000 meters altitude, he straightened the plane. At the same time, Fana's voice trembled over the voice pipe, almost in a scream.

"From the cloud under us... ten! They’re coming!"

Tensing his limbs, he stretched his neck and looked down.

The ocean of whiteness was spraying mist as two columns of San'un destroyers, ten in total, ascended through the cloud. He could feel the air shaking.

"There are more."

Charles' eyes widened in surprise. There were a total of eight San'un before. Minus the one he brought down, there should have been seven. They must have been received reinforcements while they were resting on the island.

The blanket of clouds under the heavy steel clumps were hit by waves from the lifting devices, were ripped apart, and swirled like the ocean during a storm, and spraying mist surrounded the destroyers. The airspace was already beginning to look like a battlefield.

Charles looked even closer.

On the broadside of the ships, surrounded by whiteness, the tens of pentagon-shaped fortresses and the hundreds of cannons contained in them were pointed at the Santa Cruz. Firing preparations were completed, and he could imagine the gunners licking their lips with anticipation.

They were formed in two columns, on either side of the Santa Cruz, and were flying about five kilometers parallel to each other. They were probably setting up the bullets to explode at a good range.

It'd be no use running toward the ocean surface. He had to either speed away from them, or run perpendicular to them. The maximum altitude of the Santa Cruz was 7,500 meters; at that point his top speed would begin to fall, and that would mean being plunked from behind by anti-air fire.

''What now?'' He asked himself.

Fly straight forward, avoid fire, and see what the enemy does.

He decided.

As he'd seen in the previous exchange, the Amatsukami air fleet favored using tight formations to raise the likelihood of taking down their target. Even on the Levamme side, the days of relying on bravado, skill, and mental fortitude was beginning to fade into a thing of the past, but they were still not even close to being as modern in combat as the Amatsukami.

What was going to start wasn't a chivalrous fight of wills, but an escape from a mechanical strategy to eliminate Charles from the sky. Two, three steps were nothing; he'd have to think five, six steps ahead to avoid being trapped.

He wasn't going to be shot down here, not after coming this far. He'd get through this, all ten-some minutes, using everything he'd accumulated.

And the moment he braced himself, feeling the air under him rumbling.

He looked down; the upper hull of the destroyer right under him was covered in red. The shots fired exploded into fireworks around him.
The silver wings coasted amidst the blazing heat, as the Santa Cruz lowered its nose and sped up in a descent.

He'd have to get out of this with pure speed. He hit the throttle. Plus-G lurched into him. Bullets were in pursuit. He thought Fana would scream, but he didn't hear her voice. She was probably holding herself together, screwing her eyes shut.

Snaking left and right, forcing the gunners' aim off, he focused every nerve in his body on evading shots. Shreds of metal from the explosive bullets rattled against the silvery surface of the plane. He prayed the metal hydride stack wouldn't get hit.

The hand gripping the control stick sweated profusely. He wanted to get away from this. Death was right there within reach; he wanted to be away from this fear. He subconsciously hit the throttle again. With a heavy groan, the Santa Cruz continued to descend, while speeding up.

The ten San'un kept up speeding, but rose in altitude. The front guns glittered, and red bullet traces lined the sky, pursuing them.

The world beyond the windshield was filled with flames. They could feel the heat. But he didn't even have the time to wipe away sweat.

After passing through the ashen world and descending to around the same altitude as the destroyers, the blanket of cloud underneath broke up again.

''!?''

Charles' eyes widened. Like a rising cumulonimbus cloud, the blanket cloud under him rose in a dome shape, like a small mountain. It wasn't just one; like a mountain range on the cloud, a whole line of clouds rose. And from the other side of the windshield came the rumbling and pressure of several lifting devices.

"Heavy cruiser!"

The top of the dome appeared as he shouted. Spraying into the air, four proud Amatsukami heavy cruisers ascended with a malevolent groan.

Drops of water covered the surface of the bug-shaped ship, and its black exterior gleamed in the sunlight. They were each roughly 150 meters in length, four heavy ships lined in a crisp single-line formation.

Charles ground his teeth as he took stock of his surroundings.

The destroyers had been in a two-column formation to chase him here.

As if spreading out both arms to embrace him, the heavy cruisers were pointed at the Santa Cruz. And their armaments were incomparable to the destroyers giving chase from behind. Their guns were set up in a T-formation, and now they were in the most perfect of positions to fire. If he were to keep flying forward, they'd simply turn to dust in moments.

The fronts of all four cruisers turned crimson, and the heavens shook from the cannons.

Instinctively, Charles wanted to push his control stick forward and dive toward the cloud.

However.

''Don't go down!''

His intuition screamed.

An instantaneous reaction kept his and Fana's lives intact.

In the blink of an eye, Charles pulled the control stick he was about to push toward himself, and kicked the right footbar.

The wings and centrifugal force reacted to the control, and the Santa Cruz rolled to the side, like a kite whose string just snapped.

The shells from the heavy cruisers exploded, pursuing the Santa Cruz. But the plane was sliding sideways and losing altitude as it rolled, so it was impossible for the enemy to anticipate his movements.

Charles didn't pause rolling. The world spun around them. Their visibility was obscured by flame and smoke. Most pilots would no doubt succumb to the loss of location, but Charles' natural talent allowed him to hold onto the invisible horizon.

Glaring at a single point ahead of him, he focused, and he gradually stabilized the plane from a drilling motion.

Charles' trained semicircular canals hardly felt the effect of the rolling. The world stopped instantly, and he was back to normal. The rear seat was quiet. Most new pilots would be initiated by a veteran in aerial rolling, and they would lose consciousness, so Charles assumed Fana did, too. And he thought was good. She was buckled into the seat with the seat belt, so she wouldn't be thrown out of the plane. So paying the rear seat no mind, he glanced around him.

He'd evaded one salvo from the forward heavy cruisers, but the destroyers were still gaining ground from behind. If he'd escaped toward the cloud, he'd have to flown right into the hail of shells, no doubt resulting in an explosion.

But he couldn't relax now. The second salvo was coming.

''All I can do is keep dodging.''

Crawling under the cloud was the last of his options. The enemy would anticipate him wanting to go under, after all, and would be prepared. He couldn't just follow the book.

Quickly speeding up the plane, Charles flew in the opposite direction of the heavy cruisers' vector, whilst snaking.

He wanted to fly toward the rear of the four heavy cruisers flying to cut him off, and try to evade the shells fired from the underbelly. He concentrated, carefully but almost flamboyantly flying just over the top of the clouds.

The clouds were mashed up by shots. The San'un silhouettes looked farther away than before. Their top-speed difference was beginning to show, and they were beginning to break off. The heavy cruisers couldn't keep up with the deft movements of the Santa Cruz either, as they were just now beginning to turn.

''I can get past them!''

But the moment he saw hope, they were just as quickly dashed.

The king of the sky – Shinden.

Like the heavy cruisers, they appeared in front of the Santa Cruz, having come through the cloud below. A total of seven. Going head-to-head. They were probably waiting for Charles below, but got impatient, and took initiative.

"Seven planes from behind."

Charles was taken aback at hearing Fana's slightly raspy voice through the voice pipe. He was surprised she managed to avoid losing consciousness from the Santa Cruz' abrupt movements. Her voice was also slightly tensed, by she was staying calm during this harsh firefight. She was more level-headed than he'd expected.

He looked behind and saw the seven new planes, as Fana had said. Combined with the seven in front, there were fourteen. He prayed they weren't, like the other day, that good. If that were the case, he could be at least somewhat confident he'd be able to get away.

As several propellers made heavy rumbling sounds, the wings of the Shinden in front turned red, and red lines streaked toward them.

At last, Charles pushed the control stick forward.

The Santa Cruz plunged smoothly into the cloud below.

The windshield was immediately covered an ashen color, and at the altitude of around 7,500 meters, he cleared through the cloud.

Sunlight was screened by the cloud, and the sky below was dreary. And even darker-gray colored clouds were below, making visibility poor. Even if it wasn't raining, this wasn't an ideal situation for pursuit.

"Fourteen planes descending from above."

Fana's calm voice came across. Charles didn't look in the given direction, and hit the throttle. He knew the accuracy of Fana's reporting. There was no point in painstakingly confirming each and every one now. He'd come to trust her eyes as his own, so he simply opted to control the plane.

The formation of Shinden followed from behind. He could feel them on his back. Their killing intent filled the sky and passed through the windshield, soaking into his soul.

The first shots were fired.

He kicked the left footbar to evade. The Shinden that fired flew past the Santa Cruz, and kept flying straight forward.

''…?''

It was different this time. Maybe the squad leader changed. He felt uneasy as the next Shinden tried to line up a shot and fired.

At this point, there was nothing left but to keep repeating the same evasive maneuver every time they tried to line up a shot. He kicked the footbar again to slide the plane away from the shots. And the streaks of red passed by the Santa Cruz and pelted through the dark clouds.

And again, this Shinden flew past the Santa Cruz, and flew straight ahead.

Something was wrong. He peered into the dark sky ahead.

The first Shinden had done a quick turn and was heading toward him. The second Shinden followed suit.

Enemy planes in front and in the rear. Charles realized what they were after.

"That's not good."

The fourteen Shinden were going to abuse their superior speed, to create a circle around the Santa Cruz, attacking from every angle.

They weren't going to screw things up like before, where the squad leaders fought with each other to try to grab glory for themselves. This time they were extraordinarily coordinated and reasonable.

His plane was already inferior, and now he was going to be subjected to a coordinated attack. Hope was dwindling.

And as if to crush the dwindling hope, the Shinden from behind broke formation and began attacking the Santa Cruz individually, firing as they passed by.

Charles continued to perform evasive maneuvers every time anyone got on an even plane with him. He pondered asking Fana to man the rear gun, but he decided against it. If she were to grip the gun, the enemy pilots would begin to aim at her, too. And he didn't want that to happen.

''I can't change my strategy now.''

He was determined.

All he would do now was to kick the footbar anytime someone lined up a shot at him. The simplicity made him uneasy, but there was nothing else to be done. So many of his comrades had been shot out of the sky because they tried to do something else. Charles understood that the best way to survive in the sky was to hone your fundamentals.

The Shinden attack was relentless. 20mm guns blazed one after another as the enemy made passes.

He would simply time his footbar kicks with the enemy's passes. And every time he'd kick the left footbar, he'd slide left. The enemy would then fly past Charles, make a big turn, fly at him, and then return to the big circle of planes. And when the thirteen planes in front made their pass, it would be his turn again. There was no end to the loop. The only thing Charles could do was keep sliding the plane.

It was like an ant hole without an exit. No matter how much he struggled, there was no light at the end of the tunnel. If they kept firing at him like this, eventually … a feeling of despair slowly crept up on him.

This was a battle of wills.

This was hard on the enemy, too. It took great effort for fourteen planes to continue flying in coordinated formation. So he would continue to focus on the planes behind him, avoiding direct hits whilst limiting the damage done to the Santa Cruz.

The longer the show went on, the more the enemy pilots would begin to fret. They'd fear flying out of radio distance of the carrier. The longer he held out, the more anxious they'd become, and the only way to survive was to hold out until they gave up. And to do that, he had to keep dodging every single shot. He was pouring every bit of stamina, will, and sensory strength into dodging, with his proud skill.

The hand gripping the control stick began to tremble, because he was growing tired. His nerves, stretched to their limits, began fraying. But the moment he let down his guard, he'd be taken out. He reminded himself that Fana was seated behind him, now, and he berated himself for wanting to stop.

''Don't ever give up.''

Tracers flew past him, the color of magma. He would just keep flying straight, sliding left and right, avoiding shots. This was all he needed to do. He musn't try to do anything else.

That was one of the most courageous decision for a pilot. Most pilots, stuck in the middle of so many planes relentlessly attacking him, would become aggravated at the repetition of the simple task, try to do something that wasn't fundamental, and instead fall prey to the enemy's trap and get shot. But Charles was so good at the fundamentals that he could hold out in such a hopeless situation.

He dodged. And kept dodging. Over and over again; that was all he thought about, paying careful attention to each and every movement, and staying calm, flew around thousands of bullets, deftly flew like a sparrow.

Even if there were fourteen enemies, they wouldn't be able to hit him unless they lined up perfectly. And they could only attack one at a time, so as long as he gave proper respective to each one, over and over again, he'd eventually see the light at the end of the tunnel. Telling himself this, Charles did his best to keep plugging away.

The Shinden pilots in turn were vexed by Charles' skill.

The Amatsukami pilots knew, because of the radio telegraph code, that the empress-to-be of the Levamme Empire was seated in the rear seat of the Santa Cruz. It was obvious to everyone that shooting down the enemy's light of hope in the middle of the ocean would lead to a promotion and endless glory, so they secretly gave chase. However, the enemy pilot was unbelievably good. It took a tremendous amount of skill to continue evading attacks whilst being surrounded by so many enemy planes.

All of the Shinden pilots knew they wouldn't be able to replicate such a feat – except for one.

And the formation leader was excited at meeting someone of equal skill. He didn't think someone this good was part of the Levamme Empire. It wasn't out of the question to believe he was the top pilot of the Levamme Empire, considering he was entrusted with the empress' life.

His heart began racing. He wanted to shoot this pilot down. This childish feeling made his neck crooked, like a preying mantis. He wanted to take this pilot on, one on one, using the fullest of his skills, instead of being restricted by the tight formation.

Once upon a time, there were proud warriors in the Amatsukami, called "samurai." There was still a bit of that blood in this formation leader.
He wasn't interested in accolades or promotions. He lived to fight people of great skill. As long as he was able to partake in a "do or die" combat, he didn't care about anything else. And as long as he was able to shoot down Fana del Moral, any selfish action would be overlooked. The result, not the method, was what was important.

First lieutenant and formation leader, pilot Chijiwa, made such excuses to himself as he gave the rest of the formation an order over the radio.

"I'll do this alone; everyone else stand back."

"…Huh?"

Feeling the killing intent dissipate in the sky, Charles looked behind.

"The enemies…are backing off."

Fana spoke directly to the front seat. As she said, the circle of Shinden began to back off, and gradually completely dissipated. The rain of tracer shots stopped just like that, and only the Santa Cruz' propeller could be heard.

"Did they give up?"

"No, just one plane is left. The rest ascended."

Charles glanced around behind him. As Fana said, one plane, seemingly the formation leader, maintained altitude, while the other thirteen backed out of the airspace and, like confirmation planes, simply watched.

The plane in pursuit sped up.

Feeling nervous, Charles held his foot over the footbar, but the enemy plane, instead of lining up, closed in from the left side, and began flying at his side.

The single-seat Shinden, not equipped with a revolving turret, couldn't fire at him. And because the Santa Cruz' rear gun was fixed, they were both safe from each other.

Charles glared at the plane from the side of his eye.

And when he realized that at the side of the nose was an mocking illustration of a beagle, he felt goosebumps all over him.

"That-"

He hadn't forgotten – the pilot flying next to him now was the opponent who downed Charles for the first time in his life. The guy that stared at him, savoring victory as he circled around the parachuting Charles.

He wouldn't lose the next time they met, Charles had sworn. After that, he'd searched for the beagle every time he flew into combat. He didn't care if he was stepped on and mocked on the ground, but he didn't want to lose in the air. He would put his pride on the line to defeat the beagle – he'd vowed.

But to appear now of all times!

Begrudgingly, he glared into the enemy cockpit.

And there, the pilot slid back his windshield, and looked coolly back at him.

It was a very feminine face, but the sharp jaw and sunken expression proved he was a man. The sky-blue muffler flowed with the wind, and with a challenging smirk, he stared at Charles, with eyes that seemed to pierce everything that existed in this airspace.

There as no mistake about it. It was the opponent he'd been looking for.

Charles glared back. And then he smirked, challenging the opponent.

''Can you actually take me down?''

He forced that feeling into his eyes, and hammered the emotion into the enemy. The confident enemy, in turn, accepted the look. Fana sounded worried.

"What's this...?"

"He's looking for a duel. It's an Amatsukami duel ritual."

"Like a samurai."

"It's also the best way to take us down. One really good pilot is better than fourteen bad pilots."

"Is that so?"

"Unfortunately, that is so."

That beagle was good. On a good day, they were around even in skill. He didn't want to think about a bad day, because that might chip away at his mental state.

The true strength of the Shinden, as pulled out by an elite pilot – Charles knew in his soul the dark prospects brought on by that.

He picked up the voice pipe.

This would be the last test.

This might be where everything ends…so he wanted to talk to Fana one more time.

"This is it, Lady. The enemy is incredibly strong, but let's get through this together."

"Yes. Together." Fana quietly answered Charles' resolute voice.

The word 'together' settled warmly into her heart.

Survive together, or die together.

No matter which way things went, she'd quietly accept it. It was a natural, and comfortable, feeling.

After closing his windshield and losing some speed, the enemy pilot settled behind and above the Santa Cruz.

The fight was on.

Charles breathed deeply, and gripped the control stick.

And then he suddenly pushed the stick forward. The silver wing turned amidst the thin-ink-colored sky, and the Santa Cruz plunged into a thick mess of cloud.

The beagle-plane followed suit, without any trouble. Along with the heavy groaning of its rear propellers, the snake-like jet-black plane cut through the dark-gray cloud and flung puffs of cloud into the sky behind it.

Charles could feel the enemy behind him. He couldn't see, but the beagle was keeping up with him. He knew as much.

It was a thicker cloud than he'd expected. He stared at the altitude meter as they made a nosedive. Altitude 2,500 meters. And they still weren't through the cloud. The windshield was covered in such a thick cloud that he couldn't even see his own wings. The enemy shouldn't be able to see him in such density, either.

He pulled the stick toward him and righted the plane.

Mid-cloud flight was Charles' specialty. Even though normal pilots lost track of their location, Charles was born with the ability to hang on to the horizon, no matter what happened.

Santa Cruz cut through the gray darkness.

Raindrops slid along the windshield. Only the sound of the propeller echoed through the dark world. He couldn't see anything, except for the horizon that was engraved into his mind. And he flew toward that horizon.

This cloud was thicker than he thought, and expansive. It was great for losing opponents. Even if Charles was the chaser, he wouldn't be able to keep track of the enemy.

''I've lost him'', he thought, as he punched out of the cloud.

The beautiful ocean suddenly appeared under them.

His eyes, so used to the darkness, were stunned for a moment.

The airspace past the cloud was absolutely empty, a world of cloud-density zero.

Far below him was the calm ocean that looked like a scattering of silver leaves. It was like waves were frozen in place, like a model landscape. From the aquamarine ocean, to the sky slightly thinner in color than the ocean, the harsh sunlight from the southern peak rained on everything. And that sunlight was reflected directly off of the surface.

And Charles realized. That amidst this landscape of fortune and bounty, was a malevolent sound of a propeller. He wanted to act like he didn't hear it, but the voice pipe sounded.

"Left and up, to the back, the enemy is in pursuit."

Holding back his urge to shout, ‘That's impossible!’ he turned to where Fana had directed him.

The first thing that his eyes met was the fierce sunlight. He quickly darted his eyes a bit to the side, and saw the jet-black snake-like plane nestled into the sun from the side of his eye.

The beagle, as if in a sightseeing flight, had settled in with the sun at his back, chasing him textbook-style.

Never mind losing his way in the clouds after such a long flight, he'd actually even managed to keep hold of the Santa Cruz' position.

"Oh, crap," he mumbled. He was on inferior footing in airspace with nowhere to hide, and plane inferiority aside, even the piloting skill was inferior – that would only lead to one thing.

"He's coming!!"

Along with Fana's voice, the Shinden's propeller sound changed. Slicing diagonally through the air, the beagle attacked from above. The maneuver of swooping in from a higher altitude mimicked that of an eagle swooping after its prey.

Charles quickly kicked the footbar, slanted the control stick, and evaded the charging plane.

Bullets would come raining down as they grazed past each other – is what he'd braced himself for, but the enemy didn't fire a single shot. After sliding past just an arm's reach apart, the beagle turned around about 600 meters under him.

It was like this before, too, when he'd been shot down. Until he was securely in firing range, he didn't waste a single shot. Like an "iai" swordsman, he brought his plane as close to firing range as possible, and only when he was certain of landing shots would he fire with his 20mm guns.

This was too dangerous an enemy.

Charles at the moment only had three ways to win: wait for the enemy to run out of fuel, run out of ammo, or be overcome by fear of crashing and give up.

He would obviously have to give up on hoping the enemy would run out of ammo. He would have to look at this as, if the enemy fired, he'd be shot down. They probably had a similar amount of fuel, so the only thing he could do was pray the enemy would give up.

But would this enemy turn his tail just by being pulled along a bit?

Wouldn't someone so skilled that he could chase an enemy straight through a cloud be experienced in ocean flight?

Someone experienced in ocean flight wouldn't panic over flying out of radio range. They'd simply keep chasing, without worry. So how was he supposed to win?

Charles realized he was inching closer to utter despair. And realizing that, he desperately tried to focus. This wasn't the time to be feeling anxious.

After all, as he was thinking, the Shinden's propeller groaned. It was rising in the air. The black light, with its silent guns, felt even creepier than before.

Where would he run? It was time for Charles to decide, again. And he mustn't mess up that decision. The future of Levamme was seated behind him. Each and every move would change the face of the central ocean war.

If he tried to evade sideways, it'd become close-ranged combat. If that happened, the Santa Cruz, with inferior turning speed, would instantly be riddled with 20mm bullets and dropped into the ocean. The Shinden's forte was in close-ranged combat, so he couldn't let that happen.

He could only go vertically. And that didn't mean a calm descent, but rather a nosedive at top speed, to shake the Shinden.

There was just one thing he'd never tried against a Shinden. Maybe, just maybe, it would work. He wasn't left with much else.

Current altitude, 4,300. He might be able to do it. No, he'd have to.

In the time it'd take for the fireworks from a flint striking stone to vanish, his instincts as a pilot made him jar his plane downward.

The Shinden stabbed upward, at his underbelly. At that instant, the Santa Cruz did a half-spin and began flying straight down.

Like a panther, the Shinden also turned, and began chasing him down.

Charles didn't turn to look behind him. Only the stopped ocean was in the view across the windshield. Toward the blue of the lulling ocean, while feeling incredible plus-G, he screeched downward.

The altitude meter plummeted. The wings began to show wrinkles. Air pressure gathered against the plane, but he forced the control stick in place to prevent the plane from hopping.

As he fell, his speed rose. He forced the plane to the limits of its durability.

What he hadn't tested against a Shinden – matching their respective structural builds.

A Shinden's strength lay in its speed and maneuverability, and its incredible flight distance.

Currently the Shinden was faster, could turn better, and fly further than any other plane. But he couldn't imagine there being that big of a difference in their metal hydride stack technology. If the base engine was the same, then what would cause the plane to be that much superior? Something important must have been sacrificed.

So what would have been sacrificed? What did the Shinden sacrifice for its superiority?

The hull, in other words. The armor plating was the most likely sacrifice.

If it had gained superiority by sacrificing the safety of the pilot to maximize the power output of the plane, then it would explain much.
What if the Shinden were actually structurally weak?

That was Charles' reasoning. And if he were right, the Shinden wouldn't be able to keep up with him on such a drastic descent. The plane, designed for close-ranged combat, would fall apart against the massive air pressure, and crumble into the sea.

Altitude 3,000, 2,500, 2,000.

Still getting faster, he dove over 2,000 meters. Fana had probably lost consciousness this time. He glanced at the wings from the side, and noticed there were wrinkles forming from the front to the rear, as if they would tear away any second.

If he were to keep descending, the Santa Cruz would fall apart. The instant he came to that conclusion, he flashed a look behind him.

"!!"

The Shinden was right behind him.

After about a 2,000 meter dive, the Shinden was calmly diving after the Santa Cruz.

"I can't win this!!" He shouted. The Shinden was as structurally sound as the Santa Cruz, if not more so. He couldn't even begin to fathom how that plane got its power.

He had less piloting skill, his plane was inferior both in flight and structure, and in his back seat was Fana, who was inexperienced in aerial combat.

He couldn't win. There was no way he could win.

He came close to being crushed by despair. But he hadn't been shot down yet. He hadn't lost yet; he was still miraculously flying.

So, he couldn't give up, until the end.

He kept willing himself forward, as he lifted his nose.

He needed to get away from the beagle, no matter what. He couldn't think of anything beyond that.

And to do that – he'd have to try his last resort!

Charles pulled out every bit of courage he had in him. He'd have to bet on a dangerous risk again. But at this point, testing his limits was the only thing left to do.

This enemy was strong. He was superior in every facet. He would acknowledge that much. But he couldn't afford to lose. With Fana sitting behind him, he couldn't just roll over and give up!

He hit the throttle, and began a somersault. He prayed the enemy would bite, and looked behind him.

The beagle followed. Flight just a bit off-center from the Santa Cruz, he also began doing a somersault, without suspecting anything.

''Finally!''

He'd avoided all sorts of tricks, but he finally bit on this trap. Charles could finally take the initiative.

What Charles challenged him to do was the S-class Levamme Empire piloting trick, the "Ishmael Turn", considered the most difficult maneuver regardless of whether you were from the east or west of the ocean.

Chijiwa, piloting the Shinden, tilted his control stick with nary a twitch. Not knowing nor caring whether his Shinden could keep up with the 2,000 meter dive of the Santa Cruz in front of him, he now saw the Santa Cruz begin a somersault.

Of course Chijiwa followed suit. His enemy was quick, brave, and determined. And that made Chijiwa very happy. Since he'd began piloting the Shinden he'd not come across someone like this; someone worth fighting.

The Santa Cruz, in a lazy arc, was beginning to reverse at the peak of the somersault.

By that point, Chijiwa knew what was going on.

The first-class flight skill known among the Amatsukami as the "Left Screw" – it involved doing a half-roll at the peak of the somersault, to cause the pursuing plane to overshoot past you.

And see, the Santa Cruz, doing a reverse, began to slide to its left. He vaguely remembered the Levamme Empire calling it the "Ishmael Turn," after its originating pilot.

This was the first time Chijiwa would see it being used in combat. Because there was the risk of losing speed and falling, pilots never attempted it.

The enemy pilot was probably smirking, thinking "gotcha." Performing a legendary maneuver that only three people had perfected, he probably felt like he'd overcome Chijiwa's nerves.

"I win," Chijiwa whispered, as he lifted his foot from his left footbar, and lightly kicked the right footbar. The Shinden barely reacted to the rudder, sliding to its left as it reversed.

That was the exact same movement as Charles.

Chijiwa felt a bit lonely the fight was drawing to an end, but he was satisfied because he'd be able to finish it with a flourish.

Smirking, thinking "gotcha," Charles lifted his foot from his left footbar, and lightly kicked the right footbar. Whilst everyone knew of its existence, only three had executed it in combat, the Ishmael Turn. The one giving chase would suddenly find himself being chased, and he would be filled with a look of astonishment. If he had forward guns he'd immediately open fire, but the recon plane didn't have any. So he'd do the turn, then immediately flee at full power.

Still sliding sideways on his back, he tilted his control stick to the right, lowering his right wing. As if flying on its back, the plane slowly rolled, drifting like an automobile. Then, adjusting the aileron, he caused the plane to hover a bit, causing a floating feeling from the lack of gravity, whilst still on his back.

The Santa Cruz responded well to his precise controls.

The maneuver he wanted worked flawlessly, and he was pointed straight at the belly of his pursuit – or he was supposed to be.

"—Huh?"

But the enemy that should be in front of him wasn't there. The pilot that was supposed to be astonished wasn't there. Only the blue, summer sky he was so used to looking at was in front of him.

''What if.''

He glanced behind him, eyes widened in surprise.

Behind the Santa Cruz, the Shinden completed adjusting the aileron, finished hovering a bit, and had gone past the point of the floating feeling from the lack of gravity. Now, it was just pointing its 20mm guns, glistening black in the sun, at him.

The distance between them – well it wasn't possible to evade. It was the same distance as when he'd been taken down before; a distance where there was nothing else to do.

Charles understood that he had underestimated his enemy too much. And he also knew it was far too late to regret things.

"Fana," He whispered, apologetically.

Having safely completed his screw-like maneuver, Chijiwa re-gripped his control stick, and stared straight ahead at his prey.

The back of the Santa Cruz was right next to the Shinden's 20mm guns.

He could imagine the pilot's astonished face.

It would be harder to miss at this range. One salvo would cause shredded bits of the enemy plane to rain on his Shinden.

Chijiwa placed a finger over his trigger.

And he saw the expression on Fana del Moral's face, seating in the rear seat.

I see, the rumors of her being as beautiful as the light were true.

Her silhouette glimmered. Otherworldly was an apt description, and her figure, that which seemingly came from the netherworld, momentarily sucked away his soul.

And then Chijiwa realized that this beautiful empress wore a determined look on her face, with her hand gripping the machine gun pointed directly at the Shinden. Her eyes were cold and clear, like that of a warrior of the sky, piercing through him.

"—Uh…"

With an utterance of shock, Chijiwa snapped back into himself, realized that his life was in danger, and pulled the trigger on his 20mm guns.
Fana's eyes had been peeled open from the start of the fight. She was used to dealing with fear. Since her childhood, she always used it to escape from the unreasonableness of the world – to watch reality like an opera, from her castle on the other side of the glass panel, like the most extreme of cowards. Now, she stared at the enemy plane's movements like that.

Fana, on the other side of the glass panel, could even observe herself like someone else. That's why she could ignore any fear and simply stare at the entirety of the fight, from start to end, from her rear seat.

Even the extreme descent that almost made her black out, to the emergency turn, she'd gone through all of it in the two weeks of training before departure, so she was barely able to stay conscious.

And what's more, Fana had been silently waiting over Charles' words on the island.

''"If I want to shoot them down, what should I do?"''

''"You need them to come as close as possible. Until their plane is sticking out from the sight."''

[[Image:Remembrances for a Certain Pilot-7.jpg|thumb]]

Now, the enemy was so close that his plane was sticking out of the sight.

Fana stepped forward, through the glass panel, back into reality.

Sounds returned to her. The harsh sound of wind blasting against the windshield. And she could see the enemy pilot looking astonished, gripping his control stick right in front of her.

She could feel cold steel at her fingertips.

The machine gun's trigger.

"Fana," She heard, from across the seat.

She thought that meant, "fire."

Heavy, dull gunshot sounds echoed between the Santa Cruz and the Shinden, and scorching crimson trails carved paths between them.

Like the clash of ultimate blows between two master swordsmen – in a flash, the sky was sliced apart.

The next moment, the sound of exploding shells shook the world, and brown-colored flames engulfed them.

Shattered silver spiraled into the blue sky, like spraying mist, and the summer sunlight reflected and glimmered off the shrapnel.

The exchange of shots lasted but a moment.

Both fired almost simultaneously – and that was enough to decide the contest.

The sound of gunshots still reverberated in Charles' ears.

The sound of the swirling wind washed away everything else.

A static blue sky awaited on the other side of the windshield.

The Santa Cruz was still flying. He glanced at the dashboard. Nothing abnormal.

Charles let go of the left footbar. The moment he saw Fana for some reason gripping the machine gun, he instinctively slid the plane to the side. If he were just a bit later, they would have turned into shreds of flesh, to fall into the ocean. Fortunately the enemy pilot hesitated to shoot.

He turned around.

The empress-to-be was looking dumbfounded as she held the machine gun trigger. The smell of gunpowder filled the seats. Looking like she was holding back tears, Fana turned around to him.

"Charles."

Her voice was raspy. She looked like she didn't know what happened.

"Fana."

"It hit, it hit."

"Did you shoot?"

"Did he die?"

After that broken conversation, Charles glanced around, then shook his head sideways, and pointed down and to the right.

"It hit the front of his left wing. He won't be able to fight in the air with that."

He was pointing at the Shinden, wobbling in the air with the front third of its left wing shorn away.

Fana's eyes widened. The plane was bobbing, and it looked like just a touch of a finger would send it falling, but the pilot was desperately keeping it in the air.

"He's alive, thank god."

Fana sounded relieved.

What're you doing worrying over the safety of an enemy on a battlefield, chuckled Charles, but he stared down at the Shinden, to hide his amusement.

"It's amazing he can still fly. He's an enemy, but he's incredibly skilled."

300 meters under the Santa Cruz, the enemy pilot was struggling with the check helm to keep balance. If he had wing-mounted guns he'd be able to down the plane, but the Santa Cruz lacked the armament for that. He could fly behind and under the enemy and shoot it down with the rear gun, but there was no point in risking danger to do that. His primary goal was to carry Fana to safety, after all.

The fight was over.

"Shall we send him a greeting?" he whispered, as he slowly brought the Santa Cruz down, stopping at the Shinden's side, just as they'd been before the fight began.

The enemy pilot's face was on the other side of the windshield.

Charles slid his windshield back, and looked at the enemy pilot.

He, noticing, slid his windshield back, too, and looked nobly at Charles.

Neither of them were reckless enough to continue a futile battle.

Charles silently saluted.

The enemy pilot, looking a bit bitter, made a grim face and saluted back.

Fana looked at the two enemy pilots in fascination. It was odd, but she also felt a bit warm. Even though they were enemies, the sight of two men acknowledging each other was splendid.

Charles closed the windshield and sped up, leaving the Shinden behind.

Charles wagged his wings up and down. This was a pilot's greeting. The other pilot could no longer spare a look in his direction, but he'd managed to stabilize, and soon vanished from their sight.

Only the blue sky was left in front of Charles.

Nothing would obstruct them now. All he had to do was fly until sunset, and they'd reach Cyon island. And to the west of Cyon island was Levamme-dominated airspace.

Charles simply flew.

He thought of nothing but flying, and kept careful watch, to make sure he wouldn't slip up at the end.

Fana did the same. Without saying anything superfluous, she kept watch over the back of the Santa Cruz.

They didn't speak, but the atmosphere in the seat was far more homely than before. It was like that of a pair of pilots who'd flown together for several years, and would keep flying together for the foreseeable future. Charles and Fana lent their backs to each other.

Eventually – the final destination of the flight appeared on the ocean surface reflecting the evening sunset.

The meeting place with the ship sent from the mainland was a nameless crag some 110 kilometers from Cyon island.

Charles lowered his two floats. Then, drawing an elegant angle of elevation in the air, the Santa Cruz landed on the surface like the setting sun.

Golden traces radiated on the surface and soundlessly vanished.

The spinning of the propeller died away, and after looking for a moment like they were turning again, slowly stopped groaning, and eventually, stopped.

After switching the metal hydride stack to "recharge," Charles closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and smiled as he turned around.

"Thank you very much, Lady, the flying has come to an end."

Fana turned to Charles, and with an awkward smile, replied, "But you still have things to do?"

"Yes. I need to contact La Pista airbase, to call someone from the mainland. After that, all we have to do is wait for the ship."

"I see." Fana lowered her eyes and quietly whispered.

Charles' heart wrenched. He felt restless. But to hide that feeling, he opened the windshield, feigning happiness.

"This is the final night. There's no more need for aerial combat, so let's just enjoy ourselves."

And then he stood on the wing, stretched out a hand to help Fana out of her seat, and pumped air into the rubber boat. Now completely experienced, Fana helped with the preparations.

Lukewarm wind blew past the ocean, reflecting the evening. Somewhere amidst the salty wind was a scent signaling the end of summer.

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Remembrances for a Certain Pilot:Chapter8

2025-01-17T00:48:58Z

QCore: Updating names to official translations

=Chapter 8=

Huge sprays of water reflected the light of the southern sun.

Fana pushed through the clear water with her arms, kicking forward with her long legs. When she touched a round riverside stone with one hand, she popped her head out of the water.

"This feels great,” She said happily, and then started cutting backwards through the water.

Fana was wearing her audacious white bikini. Her long limbs moved smoothly through the water, forming ripples that radiated from her back and hips.

"Charles, you should swim, too." Treading water near the center of the river, Fana shouted to Charles, lying down on the riverside.

''I'll pass'', he seemed to want to say, as he waved his hand while still lying down like a stone-cooked char. With a shy smile, she relaxed her arms and legs, drifted face-up, and looked at the sky.

Today was probably a God-given day of blessing. After gratefully giving thanks to the heavens beyond, Fana let her bare skin feel the comfortable summer sun.

That morning – even some time after Fana had awakened – Charles continued to sleep, snoring. At his side was a half-empty bottle of brandy. She could smell the alcohol on him.

Fana didn't wake him up. He was probably tired from the stress of flying for so many days, and he was still hurt. Thinking it would be better to let him sleep, she changed into her swimming suit to swim until he woke up.

By the time the sun had climbed to the middle of the sky, Charles woke up with a brutal hangover. Narrowing his yellowed eyes and hiding his face from the strong sun, he held a hand against the temple that wasn't hurt.

"I'm sorry, My Lady. This is my fault. Because I messed up my body, we have to postpone our flight."

Heavy doses of alcohol particularly affect the eyes. Normally Charles could see planes from over one thousand meters away, but he couldn't in his current state.

Fana beamed and accepted his apology, and she danced back to the river and started swimming again. She was absolutely ecstatic that she could stay in this paradise with Charles for one more day.

They stuck fish through some bamboo spikes, put them around a fire, and ate lunch.

Charles still felt ill, but the pure meat of river fish settled easily in his stomach, and the more he ate the less his head hurt.

Fana remained in her swimsuit as she ate. Usually she would never show her skin to a man, but the intense heat that covered the island burned away those thoughts.

The brilliance and silhouette of Fana's body, sitting on the river beach, leaped into Charles' eyes. But it didn't fill him with vulgar thoughts. Instead it just made him feel more lively.

"Charles should swim, too." After eating, Fana lay down on the round stone, her wet back to the sun, and glanced at Charles, who'd sat down next to her.

Charles bit his lip and shook his head.

"I'm going to hold onto my energy. I need to fly at full strength tomorrow. Even though we've overcome the most difficult part so far, I don't want to let up and make everything go to waste."

Fana sighed at Charles' stiff answer, folded her arms under her cheek, and closed her eyes. "Boring."

"Boring is fine. Once we break through the blockade tomorrow, my efforts will finally be rewarded."

"Speaking of which, Charles, about breaking the blockade tomorrow…" Fana kept her eyes closed, and spoke without turning to face Charles. "Teach me how to shoot that gun."

Charles looked dubiously at Fana's vibrant back. Droplets glistened on the seductive arch from her hip to her buttocks.

"Do you mean the machine gun?"

"Is that its name? I tried to shoot it two days ago when we were being chased, but it didn't fire."

"That's... because the safety was on."

"If I take that off, it'll shoot?"

"Yes, it would, but..."

Charles' voice trailed off. He welcomed the idea of an active backseat gun, but he also didn't want the empress-to-be to be firing it.
The backseat machine gun was there for the purpose of shooting down planes pursuing from behind. Single-seat fighters with wing-mounted guns would prefer to aim at the Santa Cruz from behind. Having a gun pointed at them would prevent them from taking such textbook measures.

In the two weeks leading up to their departure, the flight chief who'd trained Fana explained he didn't train her in firing a gun because he feared she'd shoot out the Santa Cruz' own wings. That made sense, except that placing stoppers would alleviate that fear. Obviously that limited the rotation of the gun, but he knew it was already difficult aiming sideways. Actually, even attempting to do so was like a waste of ammunition.

All active pilots knew that the machine gun was most useful in combat when locked into place with stoppers. That's why avoiding use of the backseat gun for fear of shooting out the wings wasn't very persuasive.

Most likely the House del Moral simply didn't want to stain Fana's hands with blood. Of course, Charles knew there were two sides to that. The other, less obvious side, was that House del Moral didn't believe the Santa Cruz, much less Fana, would ever be subject to danger.

He closed his eyes, thinking.

Enemy recon planes were hovering over the Sierra Cadis archipelago. Even today, two scout planes had flown over their island. Most likely, once he took off, the enemy would be alerted, and Shinden would give chase.

If Fana were to shoot, even if she didn't hit anything, the enemy Shinden wouldn't be able to comfortably follow his tail, and wouldn't be able to maintain their formation like they had two days ago. And that day, he had the help of a stratocumulus cloud; there was no guarantee of there being another. There was nothing to lose by being over-prepared.

He opened his eyes, decision made.

''"Kyaaaaaaaaaaaaa!"''

The 7.7mm rear machine gun blazed, along with a scream.

Some tens of bullets were fired from the grounded Santa Cruz into the thicket, startling some tropical birds into the sky.

After glancing at the gun, which was emitting a bluish-purple smoke, Fana turned around to look at Charles, seated in the front seat, half-way to tears. She was wearing her flight-suit.

Charles was resting his stomach against the seat, and judged her aim.

"Not bad. You were able to fire."

"Really?"

"Yes, it was good. This time, try aiming a bit higher."

All he could do was give tiny pointers, so he decided to just keep praising her. After all, their stock of ammo was limited, so they wouldn't get much practice. The most important thing was to raise her confidence.

Fana carefully lowered the handle she was gripping with both hands. The gun stand was already fixed with a stopper so that instead of revolving it was now fixed. There was no need to worry about her shooting out their own wings.

The rear seat was folded up and placed at the back of the front seat, and she was aiming the gun while slightly crouched, with her right foot forward. This was a difficult position for most male pilots because of the confined space, but with Fana's smaller body she was actually relatively comfortable.

After closing her lips and glaring at the sight, Fana pulled the trigger. The gun roared violently, and, leaving behind a small vibrating sound, spit cartridges into the air.

''"Kyaaaaaaaaa!"''

Again with Fana's scream, bullets ran into the blue, summer sky. This time, birds took off from outside the palm tree thicket took to the air.

"No problems, that's enough."

Fana again turned around, almost in tears, making Charles laugh.

"Really?"

"Yes. You don't really get better at aiming through practice. The only way to get better at shooting people down in aerial combat is to keep trying it, in actual combat. I just need the Lady to shoot and make a blanket of bullets."

"So I just need to shoot."

"Yes. I'll tell you when to shoot, through the voice pipe, so you just have to hold onto the handle until then. As long as the enemy planes can't just walk up to us, it's fine."

Fana nodded in understanding, but then she asked, still unsatisfied.

"If I want to shoot them down, what should I do?"

"You need them to come as close as possible. Until their plane is sticking out from the sight."

Charles pointed at it. Fana closed one eye and looked through the sight with the other. She couldn't imagine a plane sticking out of it, but she could understand that meant an extremely close distance.

"Of course, if a plane were to get that close, I'll already be going through evasive maneuvers, so I don't anticipate the Lady needing to shoot."

"Really?"

"Yes. Also, it's simple to say 'wait for them to get close,' but it's actually very difficult to do. Particularly in your first battle, you tend to freak out and start shooting even at enemies that are incredibly distant. Incidentally, I was like that, too."

"Concluding like that is a bit vexing. May I shoot one more time?"

"We're limited on ammunition, so this will have to be the last time."

"Okay."

Fana looked into the sight, imagined a Shinden close enough to stick out of it, and gripped the handle. The gun blazed, but she held back a third scream.

When they were done practicing, they had nothing else left to do, so they returned to the beach, and began preparing for the night.

Some fat, healthy-looking chickens roamed about in the palm tree thicket past the beach. Breaking up bits of bread made them to wander closer, without any fear. With a deft, practiced movement, Charles picked one up, and laughed happily at Fana.

"We've got quite a banquet tonight, my Lady."

As he said, by the time the horizon was burnt red by the sun, and the sky filled with a complex pattern of crimson and brass, a furnace rounded with stones was burning, and the chicken, cleanly skinned, was roasted.

"You can definitely become a cook. You should have quit being a pilot in wartime and become a cook." Bringing juicy meat to her mouth, a look of surprise covered her face, and a prayer of thanks to the sky, Fana turned and said that to him, with complete sincerity.

"I'll think about it if this operation succeeds," He absent-mindedly answered, with no intention behind the words. Biting at the well roasted meat, he tasted the juiciness on his tongue, and instinctively closed his eyes.

Swallowing meat that was dense enough to make his jaw ache, he whispered, more serious than before. "Maybe I'll actually think about it."

"Wonderful. Honestly, I'm not just being polite, I've never eaten such delicious cooking before."

Fana showered him with undiluted praise while holding the fox-colored meat in one hand. On top of only being able to eat fish since their departure, she was starved because she played all afternoon, so she, like Charles, turned meat into bones in a heartbeat.

"Ahh, I'm so full, I feel so wonderful."

She said, fully satisfied, and then stretched her legs out in front of her, drank water from her flask, and then placed her arms behind her, and leaned back on them, to look at the starry sky. The lukewarm wind lightly lifted her hair.

"It's a good island. Birds and fish are abundant, and the temperature and view are perfect."

"This must be what heaven is like. Everything I can see is beautiful."

"Indeed. It makes me forget about war."

"I don't want to go to the imperial prince. I wish I could stay on this island forever," She said, and then she swallowed what she was about to say next.

She'd said her true feelings, without intending to.

She glanced at Charles. He was silent, and poking at the stone furnace with a branch. He obviously heard what she'd said, but he'd decided to ignore it.

Something in her mind snapped.

How dishonest, she thought. Normally he'd listen to her every whim, facing her directly, but when it came to something like this, he didn't look at her. Along with a feeling of irritation, came determination.

If she were to say the same thing, how would Charles respond?

If she were to say her want, then maybe he would accept. And then they'd just throw every to the wind, and be with each other forever-

Her heart tightened up at the thought.

"Charles."

She said his name. The noble face turned to her. He was acting calm, but he clearly looked more strained than usual.

"Yes?"

And his response sounded more awkward.

She searched for words.

She wanted to express something to him.

Something that felt suppressed in her heart, something heartrending, something suffocating, something primal that welled up no matter how hard she tried to keep it down. A storm raged in her; a pure, but violent storm.

And she knew the words for that storm.

''I want to be with Charles forever.''

The imperial prince Carlo, House del Moral, the future as an empress, she didn't want to have anything to do with any of those, as long as she could keep flying, with her back to Charles, on the Santa Cruz-

She couldn't resist her feelings. She opened her mouth, intending to throw them at Charles, as words.

But Charles betrayed that determination, pre-emptively shutting her thoughts down.

"Was it not enough? Would you like another one? I feel like I could eat some more, so I could go catch another one, if you'd like."

Fana, jaw agape, stared at Charles' hardened face, and realized she'd been parried.

The next moment, something inside Fana was ripped apart. And from that hole rose another feeling that formulated in her throat, and came out as words.

"Eat by yourself. Eat as much as you'd like. I don't need any."

"No, I'm fine, too. I just thought, maybe the Lady would like to eat more."

"We split a whole chicken between us! Of course I'm stuffed. Do I look like someone that just eats and eats and eats?"

"Ummm, no my Lady, I apologize for my poor guess. Please forgive me."

"What do you mean, forgive? I'm not angry. I don't care what you do. Your job is to bring me to the imperial prince, and yet you killed a day by drinking all night. There's nothing to say to such a person, you know?"

"Yes, umm, all I can do is apologize about that, because there really is nothing more I can say."

Fana's voice was becoming teary. Every now and then, she sniffled as she kept berating Charles.

"What a strange person. How stupid. The imperial prince is so much better than you. He's handsome, his father is the king, and... he's handsome."

"Yes, umm, of course. Or rather, I think it's a bit, uh, insane, to even try to compare us."

"Insane? Insane??"

"Yes, err, my Lady, please calm down."

"I am calm. You're the one that's insane. Because, I'm quite normal."

"Yes, um, well of course."

Fana, on the verge of tears despite being irritated, started grabbing random chicken bones from around her and threw them at Charles. And then she grabbed the bottle of brandy next to her, took off the cap, and gulped.

"M-my Lady."

Charles couldn't act fast enough to stop her. It was a magnificent trumpet-drinking, like that which was seen in the slums of Rio de Este, in the Amadora region. She gulped down the amber liquid, making quite a sound with every gulp, and then slammed the bottle down on the sand with one hand.

"''Urp.''"

The future empress of Levamme burped. He'd heard Fana's father, the late Duke Diego was quite a heavy drinker, and it seemed Fana had inherited that lineage.

Her two eyes, burning with anger, stabbed through the cowering Charles.

"What. Am I not supposed to drink? You drank until you were all wobbly, too."

"Yes, but, umm."

"You, drink, too, stupid."

"No, I shouldn't-"

"If you won't, I will."

Like she was simply drinking soda, she once again began gulping down brandy. She looked like a random outcast.

"Please, stop. If you keep drinking it'll be a detriment to tomorrow’s flight."

"Shut up, stupid. What do I care. I'm not going to listen to cowards."

"What did I do that was cowardly?"

"Everything. Two days ago you called me Fana, and said social class doesn't matter, and then overnight you started acting apathetic. 'Lady! Lady!' Seriously, what? I bet deep down, you're still calling me Fana, anyways!"

"Well, that's-"

"I thought so! How exasperating! Then just call me that. I'm giving you permission, so call me that, go on!"

"I can't."

Upon hearing his answer, Fana lifted her head, and resumed trumpet-drinking.

"M-my Lady!"

"Urp."

"Give me the bottle, now, it's getting dangerous."

"I'll give it to you if you call me Fana."

She glared at Charles with wet, unfocused eyes. Charles understood that what stood in front of him was just a bad drunk.

"The bottle."

"Nfufu. No."

"Without saying the impossible."

"If you want it, come get it."

She wobbled as she stood up, then began humming and skipping around the fire, as if making fun of Charles.

This was certainly quite a sight, one that couldn't be shown to the imperial prince Carlo. If a newspaper reporter were here, they'd be doing backflips as they flashed their camera. Charles pushed a hand against the side of his head as he grinded his teeth. He cursed Captain Domingo for giving him such a strong bottle of alcohol. Because if it, the wheels were beginning to spin off.

"Stupid, stupid, Charles is stupid."

She showered him with taunts and barbs, and in between she kept drinking more brandy. At this rate, she'd end up drinking as much as he did last night.

Charles stood up, and, as if having to deal with a carnivorous beast, slowly inched toward Fana.

She, on the other hand, stared at him in a creepy, weirdly beautiful way. Holding the bottle behind her, she egged him on with a mischievous smile, and slowly inched backwards, keeping her distance with Charles. To her back was the ocean.

"Stop messing around."

"I never mess around. I'm always serious."

The waves curled around her feet as she continued backing up.

"You'll drown if you enter the ocean while drunk."

But, not listening, she looked up at the night sky. The sharp moonlight covered Fana's silhouette with bronze.

"The moon is beautiful. Hey, lets dance, Charles."

"Unfortunately I don't know how."

"If you dance with me, I'll give you back the brandy."

"Please keep your willfulness in check."

"Charles is the only one who'll listen to me. Please, let me stay selfish. When I go to Esmeralda, I have to go back a life of being kept under watch. I haven't even done anything wrong, but I have to become a prisoner again."

"My Lady."

"Everyone around me just keeps watch over everything. When I eat, when I take a walk in the garden, when I read. Every night, every night, tutors grade my day on a scale of ten. And I have to fix everything they don't like.

"Wouldn't you rather be a prisoner? At least they have people being punished with them, don't they? I don't have any friends that'll live under constant scrutiny, like me. I'm just being watched, alone, forever. Even though I didn't do anything wrong.

"That's why I made a wall, and lived on the other side of it. That way, as long as I do what I'm told, I'm fine. I don't have to care. And I was supposed to live there forever. But…but because of Charles, look at me, look at what you made me do, and still… and still-"

"My Lady..."

"Please, dance, Charles."

The mischievous smile of just a moment ago vanished, replaced by a teary, child-like, pouting Fana.

Gauging their distance, Charles leaped through the waves, and closed in on Fana at once. He tried to grab the bottle held behind her, but she evaded the hand by squirming, which led to her losing her balance and falling into the waves.

The bottle fell from Fana's hand, and the amber liquid poured out onto the wet sand.

The waves returned, washing over Fana and Charles.

Fana was lying on her back, staring straight up at Charles. Beyond his shoulder were countless stars.

Charles held himself up from the sand with his left arm, and his right hand was holding her left wrist. The blue waves reflecting the moonlight played with her hair.

They were frozen in place.

Without saying anything, they stared in each others' eyes.

They both knew their eyes held the same feelings. Deep down in them, they called for each other.

[[Image:Remembrances for a Certain Pilot-6.jpg|thumb]]

They could barely smell the scent of salt. The waves crawled back, sliding silently across the sand, and another set of waves crashed toward them.

"I'm going to stand." Suppressing the heart beat echoing through him, Charles coldly stated, after a moment.

Fana silently watched, her back still submerged.

He forcibly grabbed her hand and pulled her up. Lukewarm wind blew from the coast, caressing her soaked hair.

Still standing at the beach, Fana began crying. Scrunching her face, that which was compared to losing one's way in the absolute light, she sobbed, shoulders rising and falling violently.

"Charles won't dance."

"I said, I can't dance. I'm not the son of a distinguished family."

"What a horrible person. I'm begging you so much, but you won't dance."

Fana's reasoning wasn't working, and she wasn't listening to him anymore. Her eyes were soaked, and she rained blows on him with her clenched fists. She was really bad with alcohol.

Whilst being pelted, he grabbed her hand and dragged her to the dunes. He sat her down by the furnace, and had her warm up.

Fana kept crying. And he silently sat by her side.

The night of paradise passed thus. Until Fana grew tired from crying and went to sleep, Charles watched over the fire.

She slept, curled up like a baby on her right side. Poking through the stones with a branch, Charles felt restless.

If he let down his guard, a fierce pain would stab through him. And from the other side of the pain, whispered a demon.

''Run with Fana. She desires it, too. Run away, together, to the end of the world.''

But he screwed his eyes shut and shook the seductive thoughts from his brain.

"As long as we get through tomorrow, everything will end," He told himself. After 3,000 kilometers of flight, the road ended at Cyon island, tomorrow. After that, they just needed to contact La Pista airbase on Cyon island, and wait for an airship from the continent to arrive. Then he'd part with Fana.

And in order to say farewell in the morning, they'd have to break through the blockade.

"I'll bring her to the imperial prince."

Once more, he repeated the vow to himself, the same vow he'd repeated so many times on this trip.

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| Back to [[Remembrances for a Certain Pilot:Chapter7|Chapter 7]]
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| Forward to [[Remembrances for a Certain Pilot:Chapter9|Chapter 9]]
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Remembrances for a Certain Pilot:Chapter7

2025-01-17T00:48:08Z

QCore: Updating names to official translations

=Chapter 7=

With a ragged, red-stained Charles on her back, Fana took one step, then another step onto the white beach.

The sky above was a light, transparent red.

The sun, was a ball of magma hovering just over the horizon, and turned the clouds floating over the island crimson.

There were some palm trees near the end of the beach. Fana carried Charles to them, and then laid him down on white sand.

Gasping, she turned him face-up, then collapsed next to him. The past three days she'd been either in the air or on the water, so she was thankful for the firm ground.

A salt-scented wind swept by. Her ragged breath slowly calmed down, and only the sound of the waves reached her ears.

Fana sat up, looked sadly at the bloodied form of Charles, and combed some dried blood from his hair. The nylon fabric she'd hastily wrapped around him was already stained with blood.

Getting up, she rummaged through the enclosure of the Santa Cruz, and brought out what she found, laying it on the ground. Emergency tools were in a wooden box, wired tightly to make sure they'd survive the rough conditions of flight. Finding emergency first aid kits in the box, she felt relief.

However, Fana had never patched anyone up before.

She sat down next to Charles and peeled off the parachute nylon that was haphazardly wrapped around his head. The underside of the nylon was soaked in blood. After a moment’s shock, she pressed a gauze with disinfectant to the wound, and wrapped it anew. After a few times doing this, she didn't want to say it was good, but she thought her work was at least satisfactory.

Charles continued sleeping. She touched his face; it was neither hot nor cold. One night's rest would make him perfectly fine tomorrow she thought, trying to cheer herself up, and then stepped into the thicket of palm trees with a tin bucket in one hand.

She needed water to wash away Charles' blood.

Stepping through the thick green ground, she passed by big, crooked ferns and suspiciously-colored vegetation, and found a swamp filled with black water. Not trusting its looks, she braved onward.

It was getting dark. She started hearing sounds she'd never heard before. She looked around, feeling like she was being watched, when she saw a big monkey sitting on a bent part of a tree, staring at her with eyes glistening gold from the moonlight.

Stifling a scream, she turned her back to the monkey and kept walking. She wanted to turn back, but she felt like she'd find water just a bit deeper in. Pressed onward by her intuition, the thicket came to an end, and a new beach entered her vision.

She looked beyond the beach; far, far away, the sun was snuggling down behind the green mountain range. The dimming light shone through the connected peaks and valleys, and rays of light poked up toward the clouds.

And between the two humps was one stream of water, passing by the beach in front of Fana, and going toward the ocean. The sky reflected off of the clear water.

"Ahh, God, thank you."

Falling to her knees, she clasped her hands over her breast and spoke the words of gratitude.

Struggling, constantly out of breath, Fana managed to return through the thicket of palm trees carrying the bucket full of water.

The sun had fallen by the time she reached Charles, the beach glimmering in the moonlight. Lukewarm air surrounded them. Night was cold on the ocean surface, but there wasn't as much a worry of cold on this island.

She lit a tallow candle with a match and propped it up with sand. Then, she dipped a rag into the water, and began wiping blood from Charles' face. Then, blushing, she took off his flight suit, cleaned the wounds he’d gotten from the glass shards with brandy, and applied a gauze to them.

Charles' expression peaceful. His breathing was calm. Thinking he'd be fine if he were left in peace, after patching up his body, Fana covered him with a blanket.

Sounds from the island died away.

She could hear neither birds nor waves. Just the ocean, sky, stars, and moon, and Charles.

Fana sat down next to Charles and stared at the waves biting at the beach.

A gust of summer night wind swept by. The afternoon heat was still in the sand, and the static air still held warmth.

She was free to do as she wished at this moment. Time she had to herself, without anyone watching, time that never existed in Rio de Este.

Fana returned to the back seat of the Santa Cruz, changed into her swimsuit, and jumped into the night ocean.

The water was warm and comfortable on her skin.

Treading water, she calmly gazed at the night stars, floating among the waves.

The sharp moonlight descended onto her white body.

She'd braced herself for death so many times that day. But she survived. And now she was swimming in the night ocean.

Spreading out her arms and legs, she looked at the starry night, and decided.

"I'm going to change."

Whispering that to herself, something heavy, deep down in her soul, melted away.

Restless, she returned to the beach and, still in her swimsuit, sat down next to Charles.

With a look of determination, she let down her tied hair. Then, lifting up the scissors she used to cut up bandages, she brought the blades to her silver, thread-like hair.

The cut strands danced and vanished into the night breeze, toward the ocean.

The golden moonlight slid across her hair, sliding down to her chin.

Finished, she brushed her hair with one hand. Long enough to reach her waist just moments ago, her hair was now neck-length through her fingers.

With no mirror, she couldn't see how she looked, but it was enough to serve as a ritual for her rebirth.

"How does it look?" She smiled mischievously at Charles. No response. Fana reached out and pinched his cheek. Charles, sleeping with an innocent look, was pinched in the cheek.

Pulling her hand away, she whispered, "I'm living, thanks to you."

It was an honest thought.

And as she said that, she was filled with misery.

Her heart wrenched at her, hurting. And from that pain she was filled with an emotion she'd never felt before.

It was a feeling she’d felt for the first time in her life, a bitter, but sweet feeling that was both painful and comfortable.

Fana didn't know what to do. So covering herself in a blanket, she laid down next to Charles.

Only the sound of Charles' sleeping breath was audible in the tropical night.

Fana waited for sleep, listening to that breath. Emotions burst forth from her heart, crashing against each other, denying sleep.

"Charles." Unable to hold herself any longer, she called his name. Rolling over, she gazed at his face, under the moonlight. Her heart began to hurt more.

"Charles," She called out again. No response. She wanted to reach out and embrace him, push her face into his back, and sleep.

And when she realized what she was thinking, she blushed and turned away from Charles, curling up and ducking her head beneath her blanket.

She could hear her heart pounding. With embarrassment firmly in her mind, she screwed her eyes shut, and awaited sleep.

The morning that came from the horizon pierced the ocean mist and illuminated the beach Charles and Fana were on.

Charles was the first to wake up.

Wincing at the strong light directly leaping into his face, he shook his head lightly, and tried to sit up, when his whole body felt wracked with pain.

"Uggh." He groaned, touched the wound on his head, and noticed the bandage awkwardly wrapped around it.

At his side was Fana, curled up in her blanket with her back to him, sleeping calmly.

Charles absent-mindedly looked at Fana, then the beach, his gaze sweeping across the palm tree thicket, as he traced through his memory.

They'd flown right into the middle of an enemy fleet, were chased by kuurai, then Shinden…and he suffered head trauma in the middle of the latter.

His memory after that was hazy. He remembered desperately listening to Fana, and relying on his physical memory. Heavy rain poured into the seats, and it was tough holding the control stick. He'd given up on living numerous times.

He didn't remember how they shook the Shinden. He vaguely remembered passing the Great Fall and finding Sierra Cadis. But beyond that, nothing, no matter how hard he tried.

Somehow managing to stand on the sand, he did a light stretch. He finally realized he had innumerable wounds all over his bare upper body. Probably the shattered glass. But they were all disinfected. Fana had no doubt patched him up. Feeling grateful yet remorseful for troubling her so, he looked down at Fana, curled up in her blanket.

He felt incredibly hungry. He lacked blood.

Drinking from his water flask, he took dried bread from the emergency tools laid out on the sand, and bit into it. Then, putting on his flight suit, he walked across the beach.

The waves swept over his ankles, and he gazed at the horizon, absent-mindedly.

"I'm still alive." Confirming this by speaking aloud, he felt the thick, misty air and the lukewarm wind on his face. The sun was rising over the horizon, and blue was beginning to dominate the red.

Then, a voice from behind.

"Good morning, Charles."

When he turned around, he saw Fana standing at the edge of the waves in her flight suit, smiling at him.

Charles' eyes widened; Fana's hair was cut so that it only reached her chin.

"My Lady, your hair?"

"I cut it, because it was getting in the way. How does it look?"

Charles gulped. It suited her far more than when her hair was tied up. But he didn't know how to put that opinion into words, so he just silently nodded.

"How are you? Are you okay walking?"

"Y-Yes, umm, did my Lady do the bandaging?"

"I'm sorry they're clumsily done. I'd never done it before."

"No, it’s actually done quite well. I'm amazed."

Fana looked at him with doubt, then smiled, mischievously.

"Charles, do you remember yesterday?"

"What? Uh, umm, did I do something rude?"

"Hmm, rude…well if what you said was a lie, then that would definitely be rude."

"Umm, I, what...?"

"You really don't remember? 'Social classes don’t exist in the sky.' You said that to me as we were being chased. If that was a lie, then I shall have to hate you."

Charles desperately tried to recall what happened the day before.

As Fana said, he vaguely remembered conversing as the Shinden chased them. Right, because Fana's voice was like a magic spell, holding him in place and giving him enough strength to handle the control stick. And then-

Charles blushed. Then, after struggling with words, he made excuses.

"I'm sorry, Lady. I was confused, then. Umm, so, I ended up speaking to you like a friend-"

"I don't mind."

"No, but I do. It was my mistake. Calling the Lady by her name although I'm not in any position to do that. I'm deeply, deeply sorry."

Fana looked displeased at his apologies.

"So that was a lie?"

"Not really a lie, so much as wishful thinking by one mercenary. There's no need for the Lady to take it seriously."

"I'll decide whether to take it seriously or not. I'm quite enamored by this manner of thought," Fana said, firmly. Unlike yesterday, this was a Fana that could and would speak her mind. That, along with her cut hair, made her seem like a completely different person.

"I am honored by the praise. But let's not talk about it anymore. There are lots of things to do today."

Forcing the conversation to end, Charles walked past Fana and returned to the beach. Fana stared at his back, disapprovingly.

Charles swung his injured body into the plane, Fana behind him, and they took off. Taking a more careful look at the archipelago, he found flat ground that they could land on. He descended then, and slowly nudged the plane to the edge of a pine tree thicket, covering it with leaves and branches he'd gathered with Fana, to camouflage it from above.

After that, they went to work on plane maintenance. He deftly removed the metal hydride battery stack and cleaned the tank, suction cup, and ejection chute. Fana picked up shattered glass that had landed on the seat, fitted a backup windshield that had been kept in the enclosure, and wiped clean the instruments Charles had taken apart.

Her mood lightened gradually as they worked. At first, she made fun of Charles' incredibly polite, respectful manner of speech, but she slowly gave up on changing that, and while she awkwardly did her share of the work, talked casually.

That last night, she'd gone to get water on her own, that she'd swam in the ocean at night, that she cut her hair because she wanted to be born anew; Fana spoke, wanting responses from Charles.

He, in turn, kept the conversation flowing and, wiping away sweat with his sleeves, completed maintenance as the sun passed the southern pinnacle.

"Are you hungry?"

"Actually, I'm quite starved, as I haven't eaten anything since last night."

"Same. Lets go fishing in that river, then."

Charles plucked two fishing rods from the enclosure and carried them over his shoulder. Fana smiled and ran across the grass plain.

"Hurry, Charles."

After turning around once to shout to him, she kept running.

Colorful butterflies flitted about the flowers on the plain. Thick, green mountains surrounded them, making the plains look like a secluded garden. And passing through the palm tree thicket at the edge of the plains, they reached a river flowing from the mountains.

Big, bumpy stones protruded from the river bank and the river itself. It was shallow enough that you could simply walk across it. The riverbed was filled with rounded stones, and blue fish could be seen swimming against the current. The summer sun carved shadows of the fish into the riverbed. Thick, green-colored trees dotted the other side of the river, and some light pink birds with oddly-shaped beaks cried weird sounds. Harsh sunlight dominated most of the sight, and the complex shadows born from the sunlight was easy on the eyes.

"Wow, what a beautiful river," Fana said to Charles, who arrived a moment later.

"Quite a wonderful place. Shall we camp here tonight?"

"Marvelous."

Fana took her fishing rod, sat down on a large stone protruding from the river bank, and threw the hook in. Charles also flung his baited steel fishing rod into the clean river, propped the rod up in the river bank, and rolled onto his back.

The blue sky filled his vision.

The clear azure, the pure white clouds, the colors were engraved into Charles' sight. It was an endless summer landscape.

The spell of stasis, held by the season of summer, soaked into his brain, and even the conservative Charles felt a certain rush of freedom.

Still lying down, he looked at Fana, sitting on the stone and watching her line. She had a soft expression as she concentrated on the river.

''How peaceful'', Charles thought.

He was tired of a sky filled with bullets and kuurai. He didn't want to see more masses of people being dumped into the ocean from an airship split in two. He was tired of explosions and anti-air gunfire and metal spinning out of control.

Charles just wanted to fly.

How wonderful could it be if he could just fly, without caring about enemies or allies, with Fana in the back seat.

If he could, with Fana, pass through countless cloud steeples, cut through torn-up clouds, ride on the wind, and fly wherever, forever.

But realizing what he was dreaming about, Charles shut down his imagination.

He was confused about Fana's existence in his dreams.

He dreamed about flying without limits. There was no need for Fana in that dream. She was the imperial prince's fiancée, after all, and had nothing to do with an orphan-turned-pilot.

He had to remember his place.

Charles kept repeating that to himself. Part of his heart strained against that oppression, but he sealed that up with force. He was afraid of dancing to the tune of his own shallow thoughts.

Then, Fana looked at him. Their eyes locked. His heart jumped.

"Charles, it's being pulled."

"What?"

"Your fishing rod. Get up, hurry!"

He glanced at the rod propped up in the river bed. It was being tugged here and there. He hurriedly got up and pulled the rod; he had hooked two large char.

"Ah, I got something, too," Fana shouted from her stone seat. Her fishing rod was also bending violently. After a moment, along with a white spray, the fish caught on Fana's fishing rod was pulled out of the water. Her joyful shout bounced off the surrounding rocks.

After gathering branches and leaves from the pine tree thicket and lighting it with a yellow phosphorous match, he placed round stones on the fire. He then placed the salted Char on the glowing-red stones. After a short wait, a savory scent drifted into Fana's nose.

"Thanks for the meal."

She grabbed the Char's head and tail, and bit right into it. The savory, roasted skin along with the oily fish meat, went straight into her stomach. The fresh fish nurtured by clean, unpolluted water brought a smile to Fana's face.

"This is wonderful, Charles. Maybe you should quit being a pilot and become a cook?"

"I'll think about it."

"May I say something shameful? I want to eat more."

"What a coincidence, I thought the same."

The two of them threw their lines back into the river, and resumed eating. Because these islands were not frequented by people, even fake bait was enough to catch fish at an amusing rate.

Fana and Charles feasted on the river fish to their hearts' content. At some point, he even forgot about his wounds, and was gobbling prey like an animal trying to recuperate from blood-loss. She, in turn, looked happily at Charles from the side, and was satisfied by the meal under the sun.

But there were rude intruders upon that carefree time of theirs.

Instinctively, Charles looked up at the sky. An ominous propeller sound descended from the blue. Charles looked at Fana and firmly said to her.

"That sounds bad. My Lady, let's hide under the trees."

Both of them scurried like wild rabbits, flinging themselves into the pine tree thicket by the river.

Charles glared in the direction of the noise. At about a 500 meter altitude, an Amatsukami patrol plane was scouring the island.

The plane cruised over the island, as if licking it, and then moved over to the next island.

Fana furrowed her eyebrows and asked, "What was that?"

"An Amatsukami reconnaissance plane. The fleet we ran from yesterday is probably parked in the area. They probably know we're on Sierra Cadis, because of flight limitations."

"I guess we can't stay here forever."

"Even if they know we're on the archipelago, they don't know which island we're on. They're probably still using reconnaissance planes to scout the ten or so islands. Eventually they'll start landing, if they have an idea of where we are, but we should be safe for one or two days."

Fana anxiously looked at the sky. Charles thought for a moment, then continued.

"It's highly probable that the enemy's surrounded the archipelago. Aside from the ones trying to find us by flying over us, there should be some waiting for us to take off. This has become quite a situation."

"So it's dangerous to stay, but also dangerous to leave?"

"Yes. We particularly need the sky to be cloudy to leave. If we take off in clear weather, a recon plane will immediately see us and contact the fleet, and we'll be hounded by Shinden again."

“What a bother," Charles muttered. Then he noticed Fana's expression was darkening. It was probably heavy on her, as she'd just discovered the fearsomeness of aerial combat yesterday.

"The plane is hidden pretty well, so unless we mess up big-time, we should be safe on this island for a day or two. We just need to run into the tree shades whenever we hear propellers. There's no need to be overly scared." He forced a smile, to cheer her up.

The sun was beginning to set when Fana, who'd been lying by the riverside, suddenly remembered something and made a suggestion.

"Charles, shall we do some mountain-climbing?"

"What?"

"When we were looking down from the plane, I saw something yellow on the other side of the mountain. I wanted to know what that was."

She was pointing at a bowl-shaped mountain. It was covered by short grass, and didn't look like a difficult climb.

"Ahh, it's a clump of wild flowers. It's not that rare."

"It's rare to me. Come on, can we go?"

Not having any reason to refuse, they crossed the river using stepping stones, walked through a dense forest, and made it to the foothills.

Panting, Fana started up the slope. While moving forward, she looked behind her often, both to gaze at the landscape that included the river they'd been fishing in hours ago, and to look at Charles, faithfully following her.

Sunlight shone from the side. Sweat glistened on Fana's pure, white skin. As the slope reached its end, Fana began running, and looked down from the mountain she'd climbed.

"Amazing." Fana's whisper was swallowed up by the wind that came from the beach and blew up the mountain.

The foot of the mountain was covered completely by the yellow petals of wild flowers and the watery, thick green color of grass. At the far end of the foot was a cliff, and beyond it was the ultramarine ocean, the silhouette of white cumulonimbus clouds floating over the horizon.

The heavy scent of grass flowed into her nose. White butterflies flitted between the tens of thousands of petals. Every time the ocean breeze blew, the field of flowers bent one way, and the sunlight beaming down was deflected by the petals and leaves, scattering the glittering light as far as the eye could see.

With the landscape of abundance in front of her, Fana simply stood, breath-taken, before finally taking a step into the garden of flowers.
By the time Charles had reached the top, Fana had already plowed right into the yellow field.

This time it was Charles' turn to be breath-taken.

The clear, blue sky, the lulling ocean, the chain of cumulonimbus clouds, the garden of flowers – all of it served to make Fana del Moral even more beautiful.

Blown by a soft wind, her chin-length silver-white hair, her silver-white eyes, her pure-white skin, the white flight-suit… Fana's appearance, devoid of color, looked like something cut out of this world amidst the sea of color.

Charles couldn't step into that scene. If he tried, the perfection of the scene would be cracked and shattered.

But Fana had no idea what Charles was thinking. Noticing him standing, dumbfounded, she turned around and smiled innocently.

"See, isn't it amazing?"

"Beyond my imagination."

"I feel like my soul's being bathed. Lets have a walk."

Holding down her wind-blown hair with one hand, she urged Charles onwards.

The two of them walked through the garden of wild flowers together. As they absent¬mindedly conversed, they walked straight through the field, and arrived at the cliff.

Standing at the greenery of the cliff, Fana stared at the blue horizon.

The sun, beginning to tilt, was radiating its brass color before Fana. If they flew west, toward the sun, they'd arrive at the imperial capital Esmeralda, where the imperial prince Carlo was waiting.

Fana's face darkened. She turned to Charles. Standing behind her like an obedient servant, he looked at her with worry.

"Is something wrong?"

"Nothing." Fana hurriedly adopted a stoic facade, and looked at the horizon again.

Charles quietly gazed at Fana's back.

Fana wanted to say something, Charles felt. But he didn't inquire. He felt it wasn't his position to do so.

Gradually, the sun fell, and the western sky was stained red. Fana, who'd been silent, turned to Charles,

"Are you bored?"

"No, not at all."

"I want to be here, a bit longer."

"As my Lady wishes."

Fana smiled faintly, then sat down on the grass, legs stretched out in front of her.

A seagull cut across the western sky, its white wings taut. The underbelly of the cloud over them had become red.

Charles wordlessly stood behind Fana. Still gazing at the sun that was setting, Fana pointed to the space next to her.

"Would you like to sit?"

After a moments’ hesitation, Charles did as he was told, and sat down next to Fana.

"Thank you for listening to my selfishness."

"I'm used to it."

Fana smiled at Charles' light joke.

The two of them sat about a half-a-step apart, and gazed at the red-stained clouds, at the sky that was clinging onto shreds of blue.

The sound of waves came from across the cliff. The scent of the summer night was mixed into the wind.

"It feels so good," Fana whispered. She laid down on the grass. "It really feels so good," She repeated, still staring up. The clouds in the sky were all turning the color of the evening.

"Charles?"

"Yes?"

"I feel like we've met once before, a long time ago. Am I imagining things?" Fana, still lying down and staring up, asked him. A strong star was glimmering in the east.

Charles hesitated, unsure how to answer.

But he thought there was nothing to hide. So he decided to answer honestly.

"Actually, we have met, a long, long time ago. You probably don't remember, but when I was a kid, I was a garden-hand at House del Moral."

"What?"

"My mother was a maid at the mansion, so I lived in the little shed in the garden. I wasn't ever in a position to see the Lady, but once, we met, when I was picking on a pig. You scolded me, saying don't pick on weak things."

Charles chuckled at the memory.

Fana sat up, opened her eyes, and stared at Charles' face. She was desperately going through her childhood memories, but she couldn't remember.

"I'm sorry, I don't remember."

"No surprise, it was a very short meeting."

"But still. That you used to work at my house…"

"Yes. I worked at that house for about two years. When I was nine, my mother was forced out of the mansion for disobeying Duke Diego. The Lady was six at the time, so it's not likely you remember."

"Wait, Charles, was your mother Amatsuvian?"

"You remember? Yes, she was skinny, and pockmarked, but she was kind."

"My. Oh dear."

Fana's trembling voice portrayed her shock. Charles kept talking, with a smile.

"Even after we were forced out of the mansion, my mother was always proud of what she'd done. She was happy the Lady kept eagerly listening to Amatsukami stories. But she regretted not being able to say farewell."

"Charles, but that… that's-"

Droplets streamed down Fana's cheeks. One, two, countless droplets slid to her chin.

Charles knew his mother had gone against the duke's orders, and had told stories to Fana.

Fana's tears told Charles the two were far closer than he'd ever known.

"She treated me very well. In that cold mansion, she was the only one that was warm. And she was forced out because of me. I…I don't know how to apologize."

"My mother did it of her own accord. There's no need for the Lady to fret over it."

"Is she still well?" Still crying, Fana choked out the words.

"She died of illness five years ago. It was a peaceful, painless death," Charles lied. She had actually been stabbed and killed by a molester soon after being forced out, but there was no need to tell the truth.

"How horrible, that's too fast. I'll pray for your mother from now on."

"My mother will be grateful. I actually had no idea the Lady and my mother were that close."

"I don't have happy memories of my childhood. I only remember being taught to become a doll for father. But I remember your mother telling me stories as I lay in bed. The time before I slept was the happiest I ever was."

"Is that so? Mother is probably smiling happily in heaven, hearing those words. Maybe she guided me to be here like this, too."

"I'm… overwhelmed, I don't know what to say. I didn't know something this unbelievable was possible…that Charles is her son. I should have paid more attention to poetry lessons. Maybe I'd be more able to say what I’m feeling."

"I understand how you feel. Both my mother and I. Please wipe your tears. They should be kept until you reach the imperial capital in safety."

Fana tried to do as he said, tried to stifle her tears. But she couldn't stop. She rolled onto her back and covered her eyes with both hands, trying to resist the feelings that welled up.

Charles' expression loosened, and he gazed at the reddening sky. He quietly sat at Fana's side until she stopped crying.

The eldest daughter of House del Moral, which essentially reigned over San Martilia and everything regarding it, probably should have looked at one servant as a disposable tool. The kindness she exhibited as she cried for his mother seeped into his soul.

He wanted to see an empire led by her as the empress. For that, he'd have to overcome everything tomorrow.

Even if he died, he would bring Fana to the imperial prince Carlo, Charles vowed to himself again.

But as he re-affirmed his vow, pain streaked through his heart.

He was surprised at the unexpected feeling, and a bit stunned. Of course, he knew immediately he was envious of the imperial prince.

And the fact that he was envious of the imperial prince hurt Charles' pride. A mere refugee, being envious of a man who would be entrusted with leading the Levamme Empire of over 210,000,000 people, was unbelievably stupid. It was beyond simply knowing his place.

“I'm a lost cause,” He muttered to himself. He was irritated. He felt like a child undergoing puberty, going up and down with Fana's every action.

Fana is the imperial prince Carlo's fiancée.

He re-iterated the fact to himself.

Charles Karino was executing the mission to re-unite the imperial prince, was entrusted with the future of the Levamme Empire, with his fiancée. Nothing more, nothing less.

He understood that … but his heart still hurt.

''I'm so stupid''. He silently derided himself. That night, as he lay on top of pebbles, he covered himself in a blanket and continued berating himself.

Sleep didn't come quickly.

The flight plan he'd drawn up in his head was replaced by the silhouette of Fana, and the imperial prince Carlo played around with it, slowly staining it with his color.

The pain in his heart was relentless. Finally, Charles got up, swigged some brandy, and relied on alcohol to sleep. It wasn't really a good way to go about it, but otherwise it seemed like he'd struggle to sleep all the way to the morning.

But just a tiny bit of alcohol simply pressed his imagination onward. Cornered by his mind, he screwed his eyes shut and poured more amber-colored liquid into his stomach from the bottle.

‘Drunk’, would describe Charles as he fell asleep. Half the bottle had been emptied.

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| Back to [[Remembrances for a Certain Pilot:Chapter6|Chapter 6]]
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| Forward to [[Remembrances for a Certain Pilot:Chapter8|Chapter 8]]
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Remembrances for a Certain Pilot:Chapter6

2025-01-17T00:46:59Z

QCore: Updating names to official translations

=Chapter 6=

Beyond the plate stationed in front of the windshield, the white cumulonimbus clouds stood in stark contrast to the blue sky. It was like a picture you'd see on a picture card, but Charles, gripping the control stick, looked displeased.

He looked at the altitude meter. They were currently at 4,500. The height of the cumulonimbus cloud obstructing them was at least 10,000 meters. Fortunately there was only one, so he decided to go around it.

For the first time since they'd taken off that morning, Charles picked up the voice pipe.

He hadn't spoken to Fana at all since that shocking wake-up. He felt he needed to speak to her, even if he had to force himself. After closing his eyes and calming himself, he opened his mouth, ordering himself to speak normally.

"L-Lady."

But his words stuttered out against his will. Biting his lips, he tried to force himself to speak naturally, when Fana's voice came back to him from the voice pipe.

"W-what is it?"

Fana's words were also shaken. It wasn't surprising that she felt the same. Charles tried to act like nothing happened.

"Um, there's a cumulonimbus cloud in our way, so I'm going to have to change our route a bit."

"Oh, is that so?"

"Yes. It looks like a storm cloud, so I don't want to plunge into it."

"Oh. How scary."

Fana was speaking in a deliberately awkward manner, but he knew she was trying her best at sounding normal.

"Once we're past the cloud, I expect to see enemy planes. As before, I'm entrusting the rear to the Lady."

"Ok."

The awkward conversation ended.

Charles placed the voice pipe back to the side and exhaled. The burden that he'd felt on his shoulders since that morning lightened a bit because of the conversation — maybe. He didn't really need to tell Fana what he just told her, but for the purposes of the rest of the journey he wanted a return to normalcy.

Every time he let down his guard, the morning's sight would return to his mind.

Whenever that happened, he'd shake his head and try to focus on flight, but every time he'd think only of Fana's exposed body. They were in the middle of an important mission, and he was in enemy airspace. He had to keep a lookout for enemy planes. But all his mind could focus on was a naked girl, and he couldn't help but think he was a damned fool for it.

That morning, the eastern sky was turning a purplish-blue.

Charles was almost awake, in a light sleep.

Thick mist rose from the ocean before sunrise, and it was the coldest period of the day. Shivering, he shifted the blanket back to his chin.
Feeling a soft warmth on his shoulder, he automatically leaned toward it.

It smelled pure and good. He was becoming more conscious, but he didn't want to get out of his blanket. Charles buried his face in the warmth. And then the scent went toward the sensors in his brain, and his brain reacted in a very natural way to that scent, ordering his groin area to "stand up!" As the subordinate in his groin area followed the order to Charles slowly opened his sleepy eyes.

And he realized the warm, soft thing, was the breast of Fana, who was sleeping against his left arm.

After blinking once, he ripped himself away from Fana and looked at what was in front of him again. Fana, wearing a white swimsuit, just continued sleeping. Fana's blanket had fallen to her side, and both of them had ended up sharing a blanket.

And Charles was only wearing his wood-fiber underwear.

He had brushed skin with the imperial prince Carlo's fiancée, and shared a blanket with her.

"''What-''" He blurted.

And both of Fana's eyes, in response, opened.

The two of them, half-naked, stared at each other.

Gradually, Fana's eyes widened, and she looked down at his groin.

Charles' subordinate, still following his brain's orders from earlier, roared into Fana's pure, undirtied sight.

Charles definitely heard Fana's throat make a sound.

And then the two silver-white eyes returned to Charles' face.

And in front of him, Fana's mouth opened wide.

''Maybe I should wear earplugs'', Charles thought absent-mindedly.

"''KYAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!''"

Charles silently braved the close-ranged scream. Even as the scream ended, his subordinate stood firm.

After she calmed down, he explained what had happened, how it was a natural male condition, how he couldn't really stop it, and firmly pressing that it had nothing to do with what he wanted to do. Fana in turn apologized for being careless the night before, and amidst the awkward silence that followed, the two changed into their flight suits. Without another word, they took off for the third day's journey.

After passing by the cumulonimbus cloud, they found themselves in front of a stratocumulus cloud. It was extremely wide, covering most of the visible area with cloud and obscuring their vision of the ocean. Plus, there were no clouds above it, so it was extremely likely that they would be caught if they flew higher.

After a bit of thought, Charles decided to go under the thick cloud. The windshield became covered in white, and after a moment, the dark ocean surface appeared in front of them.

At an altitude of about 1,000, he corrected the plane's direction, and headed northwest. After a few hours, they'd be able to see the Great Fall, and they'd be able to confirm their location then.

It was raining under the cloud. It made the windshield wet, but because of the velocity of the plane, droplets simply flowed to the back.
Visibility was low. Charles continued scanning the front without letting up.

They were entering dangerous skies.

To their north was Awashima and to their south was Iyojima, and both islands had enormous Amatsukami aerial fort bases. It would take no time for planes to take flight to aid the blockade, and if they were discovered they'd be chased by countless Shinden from both bases. To top it off, patrol fleets looking for Fana would also be alerted, leading to the danger of being caught in a web.

So the first priority was to not be caught.

They had to forget the morning's happenings and concentrate on the task at hand.

There were cracks in the stratocumulus cloud above them. Every so often, you could see above the cloud through those cracks, but so far it'd just been the normal blue sky.

The further along they went, the mistier it became.

Visibility front and back became even more limited. He didn't want to bring the plane lower, because he couldn't see the ocean surface, so he remained right under the cloud.

For pilots, skill, experience, and "instinct" were all necessary for survival.

Seldom, a pilot is born with an inexplicable primitive feel, the ability to sense enemies hidden and undetected. The tension of enemy pilots straining to remain hidden, and the murderous intent they radiated; being able to sniff them out, act first, and strike faster was the hallmark ability of the age-old aces of the sky.

He could feel the murderous intent.

Charles' skin prickled with the abnormal feeling.

The hand gripping the control stick was covered with sweat. He looked around him, but saw nothing. He grabbed the voice pipe.

"My Lady, could you look around again? Something's close."

"Yes… umm."

"Yes?"

"I don't know if this is worth reporting or not..."

"Report anything and everything; I'll decide its worth."

"Umm, the cracks in the clouds were black."

"What?"

"I could see the blue sky through the cloud, but the crack we'd just gone past was black."

Charles' face stopped sweating, replaced by a shudder that ran down his spine.

"My Lady, that's the enemy."

"What?"

"The enemy airship is flying over the cloud; that's why the crack was black!!"

Slamming the voice pipe down, Charles looked at the cloud behind him.

He saw the cloud being sliced downward, like a spear had been thrown from heaven.

From that gash, rays of sunlight streamed toward the ocean.

It wasn't just from behind.

Surrounding the Santa Cruz, in a circle with a radius of roughly 4km, the cloud was broken here and there, golden rays pouring into the ocean.

It was like a divine drawing, but it wasn't an order of angels descending with the sunlight. They were more vicious, more human.

"Crap...!"

Charles finally realized what was going on. He shouted to Fana, without using the voice pipe.

"An enemy ship is descending! It's cutting through the cloud-

My Lady, keep low! Don't let them see your face!"

They'd been discovered a long time ago. They'd probably been caught by the enemy carrier's radar.

This airspace was right in the middle of the enemy formation!

The coded message had obviously been broken. The enemy was lying in wait for the Santa Cruz. All around him, airships bearing the emblem of the Amatsukami descended, ripping through the cloud. The giant, potato-bug-shaped planes reflected the sunlight, bouncing brass-colored light off of their light-gray bodies.

The intimidation stemming from their full-steel bodies, the clump of heavy metal flying in the air, they looked like the stuff of gods. They were Amatsukami's latest mobility cruisers, the San'un.

Eight in all surrounded the Santa Cruz, flying at almost the same speed.

Charles narrowed his eyes. Each of the cruisers opened three, malevolent holes in their underbellies.

His chestnut-colored hair stood on end.

"Kuurai!"

Simultaneously, from all eight ships, a total of 24 kuurai missiles were fired.

The droplet-shaped percussion missiles split through the rain, each with a propeller powered by a metal-hydride battery, heading for the Santa Cruz.

At the head of each kuurai was a sensor that detected heat emanating from metal hydride batteries. The sensor allowed the missiles to give chase until contact, or until they ran out of power.

There was only one way to escape them.

Charles pushed the control stick as far as it could go, and nose-dived toward the ocean.

He couldn't see because of the mist, but this wasn't the time to be complaining.

Feeling the speed of the descent in his stomach, he kept his eyes on the altitude and speed gauges, trying to guess when they'd barely avoid the ocean.

The windshield shrieked at the sudden drop. The plane creaked and groaned.

"The missiles are chasing us!" He heard Fana's shout from behind.

"Keep your head low! I don't need you to watch anymore!" He yelled back, focusing all of his attention on the sight in front of him.

Through the rain, he was able to catch the silvery ocean. And he quickly glanced behind. There were countless missiles giving chase.

The moment he confirmed everything, he pulled the control stick with his whole body.

The propeller groaned as the Santa Cruz's nose was raised, and as if kicking the ocean to stay upright, the blue plane swiftly began sliding across the surface.

On the other side of the windshield, the sound of thunder hummed. Not just once. Twice, thrice, four times, and more, the dull sound of underwater explosions shook the sky.

In all, 18 kuurai sped into the ocean, lifting pillars of water, unable to copy his movements.

But the remaining six continued their pursuit of the Santa Cruz.

He clicked his tongue. Kuurai were faster than his plane. He'd be caught if he tried doing the same thing.

Then … he had only one more trick.

Glancing at a ship flying about 500 in altitude over the ocean, Charles turned his plane toward it.

He hit the grip on the throttle, speeding up the Santa Cruz. Power would be drained faster, but he needed to use it to survive now. He needed enough power and velocity to get on the same plane as that ship.

When he was finally able to lift the nose, he saw the many fortifications on the curved body of the ship, and the countless anti-air, anti-ship cannons housed by them. All pointed in his direction.

The next moment, fireworks blossomed around the rising Santa Cruz.

"''Kyaa''!" Fana screamed at the endless explosions.

And through the smoke, the six kuurai were still chasing the Santa Cruz in one line.

In front, the ship grew larger and larger.

The amount of gunfire also grew more severe. The windshield was almost completely obscured by gunpowder smoke. Charles delicately continued shifting the plane's location, to throw off their aim.

The enemy ship knew exactly what Charles was trying to do. That's why it was shooting back with everything it had. Two Kuurai behind him exploded. Because they were percussion, they were weak to explosive bullets. The enemy ship was desperately trying to shoot down the missiles following Charles, but¬

"Sorry." With a short apology, Charles edged past the ship and then raised the nose. The remaining four missiles were unable to follow, instead plunging into the airship's curved body.

A heavy explosion shook the air.

A whole region of ink-colored airspace became engulfed in the color of flames, and the screams of steel penetrated the sky.

The airship, splitting down the middle, began spitting out people, falling toward the cold ocean.

Fana's silver-white eyes opened wide.

This was not an opera tragedy.

In this world, that was not beyond the glass panel, tens, hundreds of people were being thrown into the air, flames covering their backs. She could see pain and resignation on their faces. Several hundred lives that were held by the ship were being exterminated with no difficulty. It was an unbelievably quick and smooth end to their lives. Each of these lives surely had families, friends, lovers, and thoughts, but in one moment, they were returned to nothing. It was Fana's first time seeing the horror of war.

But that hellish sight quickly disappeared into whiteness.

The Santa Cruz quickly shot into the cloud.

The droplets slid quickly past their sight. Wind howled across the windshield. Sunlight suddenly poured into the seats, and an endless blue dominated the world above the cloud.

And … the mobile fleet was situated far above the Santa Cruz, at about 5,000 meters altitude.

The Santa Cruz, having sliced through the cloud, looked like it was flying straight at the carrier's underbelly.

Charles narrowed his eyes and confirmed the fleet's composition.

In the middle, judging by its size, was an Amatsukami carrier. At the top was a steel runway, fielding 60-70 float-less warship fighters, missile ships, and bombers.

[[Image:Remembrances for a Certain Pilot-5.jpg|thumb]]

The Amatsukami were said to field seven carriers in total. At least one of those tigers had been scouring the skies for Fana, so he could feel the Amatsukami’s determination in preventing this mission from succeeding.

Alongside this carrier were two heavy cruisers and two destroyers. Having seen the Santa Cruz, these were already in descent, their lower guns readied.

Biting his lips, Charles flew along the top of the cloud. Hitting the throttle knob once more, he raised his speed. The cloud around the Santa Cruz was carved away, creating pillars of mist like it was an ocean.

The heavy cruisers were firing. Charles controlled the engine with little movements, sliding and crawling to try to throw off their gunners’ predictions, escaping along the top of the cloud.

The sky was filled with the roars of cannonfire. Explosive shells crackled around them, peppering holes in the Santa Cruz' body. Fana was so scared she didn't make a sound. The other side of the windshield was a hellish world of fire and smoke. If you were to reach out, you would shake hands with death.

"I'll get us away. Please trust me."

Amidst the sound of cannonfire, Fana was able to hear Charles' voice through the voice pipe, astonishingly clearly. It was quiet, but determined. Fana couldn't reply; she only nodded.

Charles looked behind to him, diagonally to the right.

At about 2,000 meters in distance and 2,000 meters altitude, the enemy carrier silently looked down at the Santa Cruz, not firing.

No … it wasn't just sitting and watching.

Like poppy seeds, countless shadows flew off of the runway on top.

The shadows formed in sets of seven.

"Here it comes."

What Charles feared the most in this mission had come.

His body began trembling. His confidence in surviving felt like it was being carved away by those shadows.

"There's no need to fight. I just have to run," He told himself, as he turned the engine up to maximum power.

"Fourteen ships are chasing us!"

Fana's voice trembled over the voice pipe. The enemy had two formations of seven. He glanced at the gauges, then at the airspace around him.

Far ahead to the north was a clump of cumulonimbus clouds, like a folding screen.

The crown of the clouds was around 10,000 meter altitude. A pure white mountain range in the summer sky. The silhouettes were sharp and white against the blue backdrop.

''I’ll run there'', Charles decided as he sped the engine up more.

"My Lady, I don't need you to keep watch anymore. Keep your head low, tighten your seatbelt, and hang onto the seat."

"O-ok."

"This'll get rough. Don't talk, because you'll bite your tongue. There'll be a lot of sudden inclines and declines, so put on earplugs too."

Charles sped up even more, after getting an acknowledgment from Fana.

The needle on the speed gauge passed 600 kmph. Because they were close to the upper limit of the plane's speed, it was shaking violently and uncontrollably.

However, along with the malicious sound of propellers, a shadow fell over the control stick.

Cross-shaped shadows appeared on the cloud beneath them.

Five, six, seven – no matter how hard he tried, the shadows pursued Charles without any difficulty, and simply increased in number.

He looked behind.

Fourteen ships dominated the Santa Cruz's rear space, calmly and lackadaisically, as if mocking his attempts at escape.

"Shinden." Charles mumbled the name of the king of the sky.

Fourteen versus one.

Numbers aside, they were individually superior.

Plus, he only had one rear gun, and even that one weapon couldn't be handled by Fana.

Despair encompassed Charles' heart.

But he'd predicted this, at the start. Charles realized what he was thinking, and chased his cowardice away.

Re-gripping the control stick and breathing deeply, he told himself to calm down. If he panicked, that would be death.

The only weapon he had for getting out of this sort of situation was his piloting skills. And he knew that from the start.

Even if his plane was inferior, he was confident he was better. That he could get away.

He mumbled to himself, not audibly, and then hunkered down.

His instincts whispered to him. If he just flew like this, he'd be killed. And the next moment, Charles kicked the right foot bar.

The plane that was flying at high speeds suddenly began skidding sideways. The 20mm explosive bullets shot from the Shinden's wings stabbed through the cloud, chasing the Santa Cruz, creating a spray of mist.

He couldn't rest just because he'd evaded the first shots. The planes lined by the sides of the first plane would begin dancing, firing second and third shots at the prey that had stopped sliding sideways. Charles knew that. So when the plane stopped sliding, he kicked the left footbar, and began snaking through the cloud.

He'd managed to survive the triangular formation of Shinden. But next was the rhombus-shaped quad-formation. This group was trained for suppressive fire, as they'd step in one after another, beginning with the leader, to shower him with an endless stream of bullets.

The Santa Cruz couldn't fly straight for even one moment. Wagging its tail and sliding left and right, it evaded shots like a sea-snake swimming through the air.

Even if the enemy were faster, it wasn't much use – in a dogfight, gunshots wouldn't land unless the planes were linearly aligned. Charles was shifting his plane every time the planes aligned. To the enemy, it was as if Charles had an eye on the back of his head.

Charles was focused completely on everything behind him.

The instincts and experience he'd accumulated guided him on the timing of the enemy’s firing.

Of course, if he messed up even once, the Santa Cruz would be engulfed in flames, and would become the empress-to-be's coffin. Failure was unacceptable.

Recognizing the skill of Charles, the three-plane formation lined up, and began firing while nudging their plane left and right. Instead of focusing their fire at Charles, they would simply fire straight ahead, to scatter bullets around him.

The unnerving sound of 7.7mm bullets slamming into the Santa Cruz echoed through the cockpit. Fana had her head lowered, trembling in an overwhelming fear.

Charles looked behind him, at the punctures around the Santa Cruz. Then he glanced at the dashboard, making sure the metal hydride tank hadn't been hit.

The enemy knew what he was up to. He could no longer fight on the carpet of the cloud. Determined, Charles looked at the mountain range of cumulonimbus clouds to the north, pushed down on the footbars a bit, and pushed the control stick all the way.

The Santa Cruz leaned over and plummeted into the stratocumulus cloud.

It was a thick cloud, and he didn't know if the cloud reached all the way to the surface. Relying completely on his altitude meter, he kept the stick pushed all the way, and popped out of the other side of the cloud at about 500 meters altitude.

Pulling the stick back, he began flying northward at 200 meters altitude, flying parallel to the ocean surface.

Below him, he could see the dark ocean being pelted by rain. Looking behind, he could see the seven destroyers heading straight toward him, but they didn't open fire. They didn't want to hit their own, and they probably expected the Shinden to mop things up, anyways.

Belatedly, four Shinden broke through the cloud, and after some slight adjustments, pointed their guns at the Santa Cruz.

Only the lead plane actually crept closer. The military forbids close flight in the fog, because of the dangers of collisions. The other planes from the formation were probably above the cloud; he couldn't see them anywhere.

Charles looked forward. The cumulonimbus cloud was hard to see because of the rain. He nudged his plane in the direction he'd been going in before he'd plunged through the cloud.

Bullets streaked red lines into the sky in front of him. The four Shinden in pursuit began firing.

But Charles had gauged the enemy pilots' skill to this point.

They weren't very good.

He could see a bit of hope. Even though his plane was inferior, he was far more skilled. It was possible to escape.

The only thing the Santa Cruz had that the Shinden did not was the ability to refuel on the surface.

The single-seat interceptors, Shinden, tied the pilot's life to the plane's power supply. If they pursued an enemy plane too far and wandered out of the carrier's radio range, there was the possibility of dying, unable to return to safety. The Shinden always had to keep the carrier within sight.

Charles, piloting the Santa Cruz, was thus in a calmer state of mind on this single point. Even if the fight lasted a long time, he'd just have to touch down and refuel.

So he aimed for just one thing: to evade gunfire and crawl as far away from the carrier as possible, out of the carrier’s radio range, so that the Shinden pilots would fear running out of power.

If the enemy became worried about their power supply, folded their wings, and turned their backs on Charles, it'd be his win. Actually, that was the only way to win.

Charles glared behind him.

The four planes relentlessly kept chase. All four planes were piloted by formation leaders, so they seemed to be bristling with each other for airspace, and weren't really in formation.

The enemy pilots recognized Charles' skill, too. The gunshots weren't really aimed at him, but instead acted as a sort of warning, suppressive volley. They were either waiting for him to mess up, or waiting for someone to attack him.

Charles descended to an even lower altitude.

400, 200, 100. The needle on the altitude meter kept dipping. Gradually going lower, he tried to distinguish the ocean surface through the rain.

At about ten meters, he stopped descending. He looked behind: the four enemy planes were pursuing from about 100 meters altitude.

From now on it would just be a fight of skill. If the enemy tried attacking, they might plunge into the ocean, so they couldn't do it that easily. To take down the Santa Cruz like this, the enemy would have to also fly parallel to the ocean surface, but this obviously came with the risk of ramming the propeller into the ocean, so this would require the enemy pilots to be as skilled as him.

He could see the enemy pilots were hesitating.

He felt himself calming down again. Slowly rocking his plane and shifting the direction of his plane, Charles pulled the enemy planes with him.

He was headed toward the stratucumulus cloud over the squall line. If he could reach it, things would swing in his favor.

Just as he was beginning to see the light of hope, Fana shouted into her voice pipe.

"Five planes coming from above, to the left!"

He immediately looked up and left. As Fana said, five new Shinden were swooping toward them in a T formation, from the side.

He didn't notice until he was told. Charles had clearly let down his guard. The four planes behind him had opted not to engage in a dogfight because this formation was coming.

They were going to be hit.

"Lady, keep your head down!"

Along with Charles' shout, 20mm bullets fired from the five planes cutting in from the side created fireworks.

A wall of bullets slammed into the front half of the Santa Cruz.

Along with that, the four planes laid down blanket fire from behind.

There was no escape for Charles.

All he could do was plunge into the bullets and watch as his plane was crushed by bullets. That was when Charles subconsciously began moving his hands.

The instant he was about to plunge into the bullets from the side, Charles instinctively pressed down on the control stick, nudging his plane down.

It wasn't something you could think and do. All the experience and instincts he'd nurtured made possible the evasive maneuver that lasted a tenth of a second.

The five Shinden flew barely over the windshield, at a distance where he could have reached out and touched them. The Santa Cruz barely edged under them, at an altitude of maybe 5 meters. The ocean was so close, if they were able to stretch out their legs, they'd feel it on their feet.

And before they crashed into the ocean, he lifted the nose.

A moment of calm.

But the bullets from the planes behind were incoming.

He was going to kick the footbar, to avoid the bullets in the air. Or was.

Suddenly, along with a heavy reverbration, the glass windshield shattered.

At the same time, Charles felt like he was hit in the head with a metal bat.

His head was knocked sideways. Blood slid down from his temple, and the windshield was stained red.

"Charles!"

He could hear Fana's scream in the distance.

He didn't know what happened. The sound of the propeller slowly disappeared, overwhelmed by the sound of wind.

"Charles! Get a grip on yourself! Charles!!"

His vision blurred, distorted, and warped. He could hear Fana's voice. Her voice anchored his fading consciousness.

He could smell the stench of his own blood. He couldn't feel any pain. But if he let up for even a moment, he would lose consciousness. And he could feel the danger of that crawling up and down his spine.

He forced his eyes open. Blood seeped into an eye, and he instinctively wiped it away. Droplets of water slammed into the cockpit.

He could see the backs of the five Shinden rising to the right of the Santa Cruz.

There weren't just five from the left. There were also five from the right. Charles didn't realize that at all, and ended up taking the other half.

''This is it, I guess'', he thought, feeling the wind and rain hitting his face.

"Come on!" Fana turned around and shouted to him, without using her voice pipe.

Bullets had ploughed across the plane, and one had grazed Charles. Even being grazed by one was like being bludgeoned. Half of Charles' hair was becoming encrusted with blood. Rain and wind hammered mercilessly into the cockpit through the broken windshield. The temperature of the seating instantly dropped, and the cold set in.

In front of Fana, the four Shinden from behind chased them persistently. They were like hyenas hunting down its wounded prey.

Fana bit her cherry-blossom lips. She was embarassed that all she could do was scream with her head lowered.

A 7.7mm machine gun sat in front of her, drenched by rain, dangling and spinning in every which way.

She wasn't trained with the usage of it, before they'd left. House del Moral had not wanted the empress-to-be to need to pick up a weapon of murder.

But … wasn't it necessary, now?

Unlike before, the Santa Cruz was just flying straight. It was like an animal dragging its leg, in an effort to escape. Even Fana knew they were ripe for the pickings.

Fana slowly reached out to the machine gun, glistening black.

She could feel the coldness of steel. Without question it was a weapon of murder. Quaking, she willed her trembling legs to calm, and awkwardly rotated the gun toward the enemy planes.

She glanced through the sights; the planes were so close they didn't even fit inside the sight.

"God, please forgive me."

She whispered, and she pulled the trigger.

But nothing happened.

She'd messed up somewhere, but she didn't know where. She wanted to cry, humiliated at her uselessness.

The enemy planes were so close she could even see the faces of pilots.

The enemy pilots were smirking. They were toying with her life, knowing they had it in their grasp. That was obvious from their expression.
She was going to die to people making that sort of face. In the end, she could do nothing to control her own destiny. All her life, she'd lived like a doll, observing the world from the other side of a glass panel.

Filled with regret, Fana could do nothing but wait for the end.

She'd never cared about her life before. But, now that she was about to have everything come to an end, she realized how irreplaceable it was.
Maybe she should have been more assertive in life.

She should have conversed with Charles more last night. She should have talked about herself, asked about Charles, so they could learn about each other, and become friends. If she'd done so, maybe, even if everything would turn out the same way, she'd have been more accepting of death.

As she was mired in a loop of endless regrets, she felt air being sucked out from her lungs, and her body felt lighter.

The plane was ascending. And it was ascending faster than ever.

The smirking faces, once so close she could see the facial muscles, became distant.

The rain and wind pouring into the seats became harsher.

Fana turned around.

Charles, covered in blood, had wrapped his legs around the control stick, controlling the plane with all his might.

"Charles!" She screamed.

"It's not over yet." Charles spoke behind him, and let go of the overboost with his right hand. Their reserve power drained away. In exchange for extreme power consumption, the overboost gave them a momentary boost in speed. He couldn't use it often, but they'd at least gotten through that hurdle.

Charles' consciousness was still drifting.

If he stopped focusing, his vision would spin into darkness. And part of him felt like that would be easier.

His temple ringed. ''Thump'', thump, it beat, blood pulsing out. Because the windshield glass shattered, the seats were cold. He could feel his body temperature dropping. The control stick was heavy, and he couldn't put strength into his arms. Blood and rain intermingled, making vision difficult.

It'd be easier to just end it, his mind screamed.

"I don't mind being shot down," He whispered to himself. "But Fana's here."

The whispers would never reach the rear seat. He used his whole body to support the control stick, pulling the check helm to the left.

The sound of propellers slicing through rain became closer behind him.

The Shinden were closing in. He didn't have to turn to check. They weren't opponents that could be lost with just one overboost.

It was difficult flying along the ocean. The salty spray poured into the seats. He didn't want to be below the clouds, either. He wanted to go above, to the sun. His body desired it, but his survival instincts vetoed the decision.

If he tried to lift his plane now, along with the drop in speed, he'd simply show the surface of his plane to the enemy, and that would lead to instant death. The only way to survive was to fly at this altitude until he shook off the enemy.

His head hurt, ringing from the pain. His fingertips were becoming numb. Shattered bits of the windshield had gashed his arms. The control stick was incredibly heavy. But if he messed up his control even a bit, he'd plunge into the ocean. All he could do was endure it.

Charles desperately tried to keep his consciousness intact, tried to wake himself up, and felt the killing intents of the pilots behind him.

As the Shindens' 20mm rifles blazed, the Santa Cruz slid sideways on the ocean surface.

The bullets made salty pillars to the left of the plane. He was flying so low he was creating waves.

Fana was still in the back seat, her neck turned as far as it would go as she shouted to Charles.

"Charles, I'm sorry Charles."

Her voice sounded tearful. Fana was drenched by the rain, but her face was covered by stuff that wasn't rain. She knew Charles was gripping the control stick, just a breath away from losing consciousness. But she couldn't just sit and do nothing. The only thing Fana could do was to keep Charles' consciouness intact. To keep talking to him, without pause.

"I'm so useless. I'm sorry, I'm sorry I'm just baggage." She was saying things that couldn't be helped. But she was afraid that if she stopped talking, Charles would black out entirely.

Every now and then Charles would say something, but she couldn't hear, and acting almost entirely of instict, would slide, crawl, change speeds, and evade bullets coming in from the rear.

Charles' sight, hindered more and more by blood, barely made out the stratocumulus cloud ahead.

That was their only hope.

He was already on the verge of losing himself. But his instincts as a pilot sent the plane toward the mountain of cloud.

The wounded wings of the Santa Cruz sliced through rain. He was so close to blacking out, but Fana's voice kept him awake.

Charles was supported by Fana behind him. In his rain-soaked vision was an image of young Fana, wearing a white one-piece dress.

With a sunflower field behind her, the Fana of the past was crying.

"Come on, Charles."

Charles, soaked in blood, smiled lightly. Maybe this was what they called a 'revolving lantern.' He couldn't tell what was real and what was a dream, but he responded anyways.

"Fana, are you crying?"

He remembered when he was picking on the pig, that she'd asked if he was crying, and he remembered quickly wiping away his tears.

"Yes, I am crying. I'm vexed that I can't do anything. That I can't do anything in a time like this."

Though his vision was blurred, the young Fana's voice sounded clear. The coldness of the rain and wind faded away, and the voice of Fana, settling in his heart, felt warm.

"I have a request."

"What?"

"Keep talking to me."

"It won't be a bother?"

"Not at all. I feel like I'll black out if I don't listen to you."

"Okay, then what shall we talk about?"

The four Shinden kept pursuing from behind. They were waiting for him to mess up. While Fana spoke, Charles kept his attention focused.

"How troublesome. I've not talked to people much. May I ask about you?"

"Okay, sure."

"Why are you flying?"

Charles answered Fana's question as he weaved in front of the enemy.

"Because I like to."

"You like war?"

"As if. What I like is flying in the sky."

"Of course. Of course that's it."

The 20mm guns from the Shinden roared. But the Santa Cruz was no longer in front of their guns. Hovering over the ocean, the plane slid sideways, kicking up waves. The reason why he was repeating everything over and over again was because this was the most effective way. Charles knew that if he grew irritated, and tried to do something else, he would be shot down.

"In our case, we don't have much of a choice. If a superior orders us, 'fly a plane and fight the enemy,' that's all we can do."

The five Shinden that had crossed over him turned, and charged from the left. The other five planes, including the one that hit Charles, danced down from the right.

"Are you taking me to Esmeralda because you were ordered to?"

Charles' consciousness was blurred, but he still had fully awareness of the situation. Like he had a bird's eye view of his own plane, as well as the enemy planes; it was a strange feeling that guided him.

"That's one reason. But along with that, no one had broken through the central ocean blockade on their own. I wanted to try it. That was a big reason."

The left planes were faster, he decided, and he kicked the right footbar.

"Even though your accomplishments will be sideswiped?"

The plane groaned.

"I don't really care."

The bullets riddled the ocean.

"You don't want fame?"

He could tell they were 7.7mm bullets. The enemy had already run out of 20mm bullets, which weren’t as well stocked.

"If they'd give it to me, sure I'd take it, but I don't need it to live."

The planes from the right swooped in. Charles didn't even have to turn to look. Even with his consciousness drifting between this world and the netherworld, he had full grasp of the airspace.

"I wish I could let those around me hear those words."

The plane slid parallel to the ocean surface. The enemy bullets didn't even graze the Santa Cruz.

The enemy planes that swooped changed to an ascent barely over the ocean.

"When you fly for as long as I have, you start losing interest in the value system of the surface. Most pilots think the same way as me."

The last plane didn't make it, crashed into the ocean, and was swallowed up, its jet-black wing spiraling in the air with a big splash.

"The sky is a treasure to Charles."

Blood still oozed out of his temple, and he couldn't put any strength into the arms holding onto the control stick, but Charles' consciousness was relatively awake.

"That sounds pretty cool."

Charles joked.

"I was being serious."

Fana pouted.

"There are times I feel the surface is stupid. Social classes don’t exist in the sky."

His vision was filled with rain. It was limited. But Charles could clearly hear the breaths, the heartbeats of the enemy pilots.

The Shinden pilots were in a rush. The dogfight had gone on longer than expected, and they were afraid of chasing the Santa Cruz for much longer. They wouldn't say anything to each other, but Charles was sure they were trying to see if it was time to give up.

"You're right, I agree."

The Santa Cruz was dancing with the Shinden.

"After all, a refugee bestado is speaking with the empress-to-be."

No matter how much the Shinden fired, their actions were read two, three steps ahead. The bullets would miss, evaded. It was so futile you'd wonder why they were aiming for him at all.

"Are we not supposed to speak?"

And … the Santa Cruz finally made it to the stratocumulus cloud.

This airspace was dominated by rain and wind that was incomparably harsher than before. If they were to enter the clouds, the air would be split by the strong ascending and descending air currents. Only the most confident of pilots would dare to cut through.

Charles simply kept flying over the ocean, through the storm, because that made it difficult for the enemy to give chase. He wanted to fly into the cloud afterward, forcing the enemy into even more dangerous air, to make them want to give up.

Big raindrops and loud, crashing waves swept into the seats. Without the voice pipe, they wouldn't be able to continue to speak.

Knowing that, Fana shouted to Charles anyways, words that would never reach.

"You're a person, just as I am."

As she spoke, log-shaped lightning flashed outside the windshield. After a slight delay, the sound of thunder rumbled, and the shadow of the Santa Cruz was engraved into the waves.

Charles didn't reply. But, having been able to say what she'd wanted to say since the journey had started, Fana was satisfied. Rain, wind, lightning – none of it scared Fana anymore. She understood, without any reason to back it up, that they would be able to keep flying together.

"We're passing the cloud," Charles mumbled.

After that, like someone had lowered the curtains, bright sunlight poured into the seats.

The world, that all along had been one dreary ashen color, was suddenly filled with light, looking brighter and more colorful than ever before, and the summer sky flew into Fana's eyes.

"Wow," She blurted out. It was a sudden, abrupt change of scenery.

In front of her, behind the plane, the stratucumulus cloud they'd flown under drifted away, reflecting sunlight. The top of the cloud was like a silver-white steeple, standing tall as Fana looked up. The pure white was comforting in the clear, summer blue.

And, those nefarious black shadows were nowhere to be seen. The color of relief spread across Fana's face.

"Look, the enemies are gone. They must have given up."

"Yes, it looks like it," Charles rasped, not looking back.

"Charles?"

Charles sounded weaker than before. Fana looked over her shoulder, and her eyes widened.

"Oh no!"

She hadn’t noticed in the dark clouds; Charles' wounds were far deeper than she'd thought. Blood was still oozing out of his right temple, and shattered bits of glass were gouged into his face and shoulders. His flight suit, a clean blue at dawn, was covered in red on his right side. And the hands gripping the control stick were, probably due to glass, dripping blood, his breath inconsistent. It looked like the control stick weighed tons.

Charles, in a state halfway between death and life, had flown through a thunder cloud, avoiding thousands of enemy bullets. Fana couldn't believe it.

"I-I'm sorry, I never realized."

Devastated, she wriggled about, trying to find anything that would work as wrapping.

Noticing the parachute being used as a cushion, she sliced it apart with a piece of glass and leaned into the front seat.

"This should do for now. We'll have to patch you up properly, later."

Forcibly twisting herself around in the seat, Fana wrapped up Charles' bleeding temple. She then plucked out the glass that was stuck in him, one by one. Fana's hands, which had never lifted anything heavier than forks and knives, were immediately cut, and tainted the colour of roses.

"Fana, I'm alright."

"Please, let me do this, at least."

Fana poked her hand out of the broken windshield and tossed out the glass shards. Blood and glass formed a helix as they spiraled past the plane.

"Fana."

"What?"

"Your hands are hurt."

"You're hurt, too."

"I'm fine, but not you."

"Why?"

"Because you're going to become the empress."

"Oh my, Charles, aren’t you the one who said there are no social classes in the sky?"

"Well, but-"

Charles swallowed his words.

In front of him, through his blurred vision, an abnormality came into sight.

The Santa Cruz was flying at about 120 meters altitude. Far below them was a wall of ocean water.

The wall stretched left and right, without end. And the edge couldn't be seen through the spraying water.

It was a big step in the middle of what had been a flat ocean. The ocean was sliced in one line; water was falling from the higher end to the lower end, and water sprayed through the air.

"The Great Fall. We've finally made it."

There was relief in Charles' struggling voice. Once past the fall, they'd enter airspace which Levamme and Amatsukami forces fought over. They were no longer in airspace completely dominated by the Amatsukami.

Charles wrapped his right leg over the control stick and pulled it forward. His arms were so weak now that this was the only way to move the heavy stick. The plane painfully pointed upwards, and with a groan of the propeller, ascended.

Fana's eyes were glued to the wall of water. The Great Fall was roughly 1,300 meters in height, and there was a rainbow in the middle. The heavy rumbling of falling water vibrated through the plane.

This wasn't the first time Fana had seen this. She'd flown across many times and seen this . But every time, she'd feel a sense of awe.

Because of the existence of the Great Fall, the world had been split in two for a long time, and until the invention of planes, could not be crossed. At the same time, this waterfall was why flight supplanted sea travel in the transportation of cargo, and in the control of water-and¬airspace.

If the waterfall didn't exist, flight technology would certainly not have advanced as much as it had now. Regular ships were far more effective and efficient in the transportation of cargo. Although they could travel greater distances and carry more weight, they could not overcome the Great Fall.

The Santa Cruz spiraled up and climbed over the Great Fall.

They were now in the western ocean. Charles once again brought the plane down toward the surface, wiped away blood from his eyes, and looked at the altitude gauge. Even though the ocean was right under them, it read 1,350 meters. After adjusting the gauge with his finger to read 10, he returned to a higher altitude.

Charles wanted to sleep. If he stopped focusing, he'd lose consciousness and immediately drift away. The lack of oxygen from being in a higher altitude, the loss of blood from wounds, and the energy loss from intense concentration; all of these were making him extremely drowsy.

Forcing sleep away, he looked across the ocean.

He needed to find Sierra Cadis somewhere in this ocean. Yet there was no land to be found on this lonesome ocean.

Until now, all Charles needed to do was fly northwest, because eventually he'd run into the Great Fall. The Sierra Cadis was supposed to be the next landmark for him.

He knew there would be islands to the northeast and southwest of where he was, but he didn't know which way to go. He would have to fly along the Great Fall, using the shape of the fall, the shape of the clouds, the colour of the ocean surface, and other such markings to figure out where he was.

Eventually, the sun began to set, and the sky was slowly stained an indigo-blue.

And at the edge of his blurred vision, he found a gathering of islands.

The resting place for the third night, the Sierra Cadis archipelago, seventeen islands of various sizes. He'd be able to rest in relative safety.

Licking dry lips, he used the last of his energy, lowering his plane into the ocean between islands that glittered silver.

The Santa Cruz plunged toward a green island, surrounded by shallow water.

They'd survived another day. He'd thought it was over so many times, and had been so close to giving up. But here he was, still flying. And Fana was still alive. The recon plane Santa Cruz had managed to survive an enemy fleet and fourteen enemy Shinden.

Charles thought about that with his freezing mind and smiled, satisfied. After a look at the silver ocean under him, he let go of of the control stick, switched the battery stack to "recharge," sighed, and fell into a deep, deep slumber.

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Remembrances for a Certain Pilot:Chapter5

2025-01-17T00:46:04Z

QCore:

=Chapter 5=

When his eyes opened, heavy, dense clouds were gathered beyond the windshield.

Sliding the windshield back, Charles poked his head out of the cockpit.

Cloud density seven or eight. The eastern sun hadn't risen above the horizon yet. He could barely hear the waves washing the floats, and the salty wind caressed his face.

The second morning.

He extended his arms into the air and stretched backward.

Then, stepping onto the plane from the cockpit, he slid his arms through the flight suit hanging from the propeller.

It hadn't fully dried yet and was uncomfortable. If he were alone he'd prefer to fly in his pants, but because of Fana he couldn't.

Fana's flight suit was also only half-dried. But she only had this and the swimsuit. Walking to the tail with her flight suit in hand, he jumped onto the boat.

Fana slept curled up like a child.

With an innocent look, hands clasped together, and barely-audible breath coming through her barely-open lips. Her blanket was only up to her breasts, and her neck and shoulders were exposed.

Charles' sight went automatically to her breasts. Hidden by her swimsuit, sure, but that didn't hide their form, and Charles learned she was hiding a lot of herself under her clothing. Or to be more precise, he'd never before met someone who hid so much of her form with clothing, and probably never would again.

On an endless ocean, alone with a girl of absolute beauty.

Charles clung desperately to reason. He held up his feeling of servitude that had been fostered since he was young, suppressed the animal nature inside him, and twisting his neck against its will, peeled his eyes away. Like ripping apart a tree with bare hands, he finally managed to look away from Fana, and, maintaining his calm, called to her.

"Good morning, Lady."

Fana's eyes slowly opened. Charles' back was to her.

"Good... morning."

Fana slowly pushed herself up, and realized her blanket wasn't covering up to her neck. Hurriedly she pulled it up, and ended up looking like she was wearing one big robe.

"It’s still only half-dry, but if possible..."

Charles turned half of his face to Fana, and held out the flight suit. Fana also stuck her arm out of the blankets, took it, and held it to her.

"Yes, I can wear it."

"Okay, then. If you could please change now, I’d like to leave before the sun rises. I'll be in the cockpit."

Awkwardly, Charles picked up the cooking stove and jumped onto a wing.

Fana only stuck her head through the flight suit, and with it covering her, took off her swimsuit. She didn't like the feeling of wet clothing touching her skin directly, but she had to tolerate it.

After confirming that Fana had gotten into the back seat, Charles jumped back out of the cockpit, walked to the tail, let the air out of the rubber boat, and tucked it back into the plane. With that done, he ran back to the front seat.

"Alright, here goes the second day. As before, please keep watch at the back."

"Okay."

With that short exchange, Charles started the engine. The propeller began spinning, the floats made some small waves, and the tail, which had been slightly underwater, rose into the twilight with a splash.

By the time the sun rose over the horizon, the Santa Cruz had already punctured the clouds and climbed diagonally into the air.

That day the clouds were plentiful, perfect for covert operations.

Like a skipping stone, Charles jumped from cloud to cloud, calmly heading north west.

Before they'd said a word to each other, the sun had already climbed past the Santa Cruz, and began falling to the west. Charles' sight became covered by light, making his watch difficult. He put on his flight goggles to shade his eyes from the light.

Fana, in the back seat, was devoting all of her attention to keeping watch.

Until they passed the Great Fall, they would simply be heading toward more and more enemies, the head pilot had mentioned before he'd taken off. To get past the central ocean, they had to find the enemy before they were found. Over the course of the two weeks of training, Fana had heard that over and over again. Without getting bored of the monotony of the sky, Fana kept concentrating.

And then — she saw something.

Voice pipe in hand, she told Charles.

"Upper-right corner, I see a light between the clouds."

Charles turned his neck toward the designated area. "Right" and "left" used in the plane were based on the nose. He saw a stretch of clouds at 5,500 meters altitude, but he couldn't see anything.

"I don't see anything."

"I saw it past the cloud with the ragged bottom."

Fana was referring not to the stratus cloud near them, but one far behind them, about 7,000 meters altitude, a cirrostratus cloud that looked like its bottom had been punctured with a needle several times. It was at least 1,500 meters horizontally from them.

After a moment, Charles' facial muscles twitched.

As Fana had said, for just an instant, there was a light that flashed beyond the cloud. The enemy propeller had probably reflected the sun. For her to have caught sight of something that far away with her naked eyes was amazing.

"It's an enemy plane. That's incredible."

"Are we being chased?"

"Let's pray we're not."

Charles flew into a cloud that would obstruct them from the enemy. Fana stared at the line, over 1,000 meters away.

"It's not coming, it's going away."

Hearing Fana, Charles looked behind again.

Between the clouds, Charles' trained eyes re-located the earlier light. He could see the light wasn't going in the Santa Cruz' direction. The enemy hadn't found them. Charles exhaled in relief. He picked up the voice pipe.

"That's one thing gone. It means the Lady's eyesight beat theirs. That was splendid work."

Charles spoke no lie. If Fana could do that, then breaking the 12,000 kilometer blockade might not be a pipe dream.

"It was just one plane, so it was probably a patrol plane. If we were found, it would have sent a radio to its mothership, and we would have had to take on an immeasurable number of fighter planes. That was close."

"Was that good?"

"Yes. Of course."

"I'm glad."

Fana also exhaled with relief at Charles's words.

"But this isn't the end of it. Please keep watching."

"Ok."

Gathering her focus again, Fana hung the voice pipe on the wall again.

She began staring at the sky again. Come to think of it, she hadn't retreated behind the glass wall even once today. She'd been staring at the reality in front of her with all her might.

It felt strange.

Before they'd left, she couldn't make herself care about what would happen to her. Yet here she was, staring at reality in the face, and feeling alive again. Perhaps it was because she was treading the line between life and death. No, it might be more than that.

She had fun talking to Charles over the voice pipe.

His voice coming through the metal speakers was sometimes nervous, sometimes extraordinarily polite, sometimes relieved, sometimes angry. He was throwing words directly at Fana, without hiding anything. That felt refreshing.

''I want to hear his voice more.''

Fana realized she'd begun thinking that way. They were so close that if she were to turn around, she could see each individual strand of his hair, but they were too distant for conversation. If Fana were to pick up the voice pipe and suddenly begin talking, Charles would probably be stupefied.

But if she were to find another light, she could call Charles.

Because of that, Fana kept her eyes peeled, watching the sky.

Afterwards, Fana found two more dots of light, and told Charles. Each time, Charles would use the clouds to avoid them, while speaking to Fana through the voice pipe.

She knew they were in a life-or-death situation.

But Fana was having fun. She felt like she could feel his heartbeat through the seat. There were some sharp turns, climbs, descents, and even some things that caused her to want to vomit as he steered through clouds, but she never felt like she wanted to run. She had felt that way so often, surrounded by House del Moral tutors.

The ocean was being swallowed by darkness again.

The sun, settling under the horizon, coloured the clouds’ underbellies brass, and the direction Charles was heading in was turned into a complex mix of indigo blue, white and gold.

With the miniature sky as the background, the Santa Cruz turned to an elegant angle of elevation, and landed on its floats on the golden ocean.

Having left behind white trails, Charles made sure the plane had come to a stop, took off his flight goggles, opened the windshield, and stood on the wing.

"Thank you for your hard work, My Lady. We are still safe."

Charles happily opened the rear windshield and gave Fana a hand to help her onto the wing.

"You saved me so much today. To be honest, when we took off, I thought I would have to keep watch over the rear, but that was a complete error on my part. Most pilots haven’t half your skill at keeping watch."

"You're praising me too much."

"No, not at all. Because of you, we were able to avoid at least two aerial fights. At this rate, we might be able to smoothly go through the central ocean."

She could tell Charles was flushed, even amidst the red sky. He looked truly happy. Fana felt embarrassed.

The second day's travels had finished, and Charles was in high spirits. He had wondered what would happen when he heard about the imperial prince's letter, but the enemy patrols weren't that great. The day had gone so well that he wondered if the enemy had pilots capable of following Charles, and observers capable of beating Fana.

"Let's have our evening meal. You may not like rations, so let's try fishing. Hold on."

With that, Charles buried his head into the plan’s body, and took out two fishing rods. Fana looked at him suspiciously.

"Fishing?"

"Yes. If we can catch some, we can have a good dinner. If we can't, we'll just have to make do with rations."

"Like a fisherman."

"Would you like to try your hand?"

With a carefree smile, Charles held out a fishing rod to Fana.

Fana accepted the simple fishing rod. It was simply a hook protruding from a metal bait.

Both of them sat down on the rubber boat and dropped their lines.

The sunset slowly disappeared from the western sky, and the summer night descended on the ocean. The infinite night sky, the endless bottom of the ocean, and the bottomless silence greeted them. Using the plate-covered cooking stove as a light, they quietly held their fishing rods.

Even Fana understood that the waterspace they were on was controlled by the Amatsukami air fleet. Yet, she found it strange she was there, fishing in enemy waters.

And she didn't feel any fear, but a mysterious sense of peace.

"Nothing's biting."

When the sky had become filled with stars, Charles disappointingly said, after they'd both sat on the boat for some time.

"Nope."

"Are you hungry?"

"No, I'm fine. I don't have much of an appetite."

All day, Fana had only nibbled a bit on bread. Ever since they'd left Rio de Este, her stomach had been constantly jostled by the plane and boat, so it wasn't accepting food.

"How about you, Mr. Pilot?"

"Sorry, I'm actually starving."

"Oh my. Well I guess we should keep trying to fish. If Mr. Pilot were to starve to death here, I'd be lonely by myself."

As she joked, Fana shook her fishing rod left and right. Then—

"Oh. It just, kind of, twitched."

"What?"

"Oh dear, it's, it's moving."

"M..My Lady, you caught one, carefully, carefully."

"I'm-I'm scared, it's, it's really being pulled."

As she said, the fishing rod was being pulled heavily. Fana was using all of her strength to hang onto the fishing rod, but the catch was stronger. Fana's body kept sliding forward, and as much as the boat may have been built for military use, that didn't mean it had flawless footing.

"H-help."

He wanted to help, but Charles didn't know how, but when she called for help, he threw everything to the wind.

"Please excuse me, my Lady."

Apologizing, he quickly went behind Fana, and put his arms around her to grip the fishing rod. It looked like he was embracing her. He continued apologizing.

"Umm, this isn't meant to be vulgar. I just think this is the only way to keep the boat's balance."

"N-no, it-it's fine."

"Lady, this is definitely a big catch. Pull on three, okay?"

"O-Okay."

Fana gripped the fishing rod tighter with a determined look. The boat kept shaking, and the footing was becoming dangerous. And Charles's voice, right to her ear was ticklish. She could feel his chest on her back. And the arms wrapped around her from behind. Naturally, she blushed.

"My Lady, here we go."

"Ah, o-okay!!"

"One, two, ''three''!"

Unaware that Fana was thinking of other things, Charles suddenly pulled. Snapping out of it, Fana, though late, also pulled.

With a big splash, a large fish -at least five kilograms in size -flew out, danced into the air while waving its fins and, somehow, free-fell diagonally right into Fana’s face.

''POW'', Fana heard in the distance.

"M-my Lady!?"

Fana lost her balance, and Charles, still supporting her, tried to solidify his footing for her, but the boat ended up bending sideways, and both of them ended up in an irreversible angle toward the ocean.

"Err," Was all Charles managed, before he fell head-first into the ocean, still holding Fana.

As with the night before, there was a big splash next to the Santa Cruz.

Blowing bubbles from his nose, once again, Charles embraced Fana underwater, and held onto the edge of the rubber boat.

"Again, I apologize..."

"No, I'm the one that messed up first."

Sitting on either side of the cooking stove, the two of them, for the second night in a row, covered their bare skin with a blanket to dry off.

Under the yellow crescent moon, Charles and Fana's flight suits hung on the Santa Cruz' propeller.

Trying to cheer her up, Charles smiled.

"But see, we were able to catch a fish. This big! And it's the Lady's catch."

"Yes... although I caught it with my face."

"Ah... hahaha..."

Seeing Charles' awkward laugh, Fana laughed at him.

And the two of them huddled up with their blankets. Their hearts were beating faster than the night before. Charles raised his head again, sounding cheerful when he spoke.

"Alright, lets cut it up. Have you eaten sashimi?"

"Osashimi... Amatsukami cooking? I have not."

"It's the best way to eat fresh fish. Leave it to me."

Still covered in a blanket, Charles pulled out a kitchen knife and a wooden board from the plane. Fana started thinking the plane’s enclosure was a magic box.

"I'm used to long-distance flights, so I know what to bring," Charles proudly stated as he cut up the fish. In a flash, the big fish turned into three big slices, which was further cut down into tiny slivers and lined on a paper plate.

"And eaten with shouyu."

Fana, without any hesitation, used the fork handed to her and brought a slice, thinly covered in shouyu, to her mouth. After politely chewing, her silver-white eyes opened wide.

"Delicious."

Charles smiled, picking up a sliver with chopsticks.

"Ah, yes it is."

Looking proud, Charles started munching away.

"Keep eating, Lady, without feeding yourself, you won't be able to live."

Fana didn't have much of an appetite before, but pressed on by Charles, found her fork automatically moving. The skipjack tuna was meaty, juicy, and addicting.

While eating, Charles explained the rest of their trip.

"Tomorrow we'll pass through the Great Fall. It's the enemy’s most closely guarded airspace. It'll be the most difficult part of the journey, so we'll have to be at our best."

"Okay."

"After the Great Fall, I'll land near the Sierre Cadis archipelago to tune the plane. When you fly three days without maintenance, the metal hydride battery starts running a risk of breaking down.

“We'll spend our third night at the archipelago, and the fourth day will be spent flying to Cyon island. La Pista air base is stationed on Cyon island, and they're in daily aerial combat with the Awashima-based Amatsukami air force. But we're not joining the fray.

“If we get that far, our journey is mostly done. Should the enemy raids be too severe, we'll ignore the La Pista air base and go straight to Cyon Island. There, I'll call the Levamme mainland, after which an airship will be sent to pick you up. They should arrive on the fifth day."

"Yes, umm."

"Yes?"

"What is Mr. Pilot going to do after the fifth day?"

"Ah, we'll be parting on Cyon island. Once my Lady has been transferred to the airship, I'll head to the La Pista airbase to join the combat."

"I... see."

Charles, untroubled, kept eating the delicious sashimi.

"For the people of the mainland, I'm better off not existing. Once the journey is over, the Lady will not return having been saved by a mercenary, but will miraculously return, rescued by the Eighth Special Mission Fleet."

"I heard the Eighth Special Mission Fleet was annihilated..."

"You can always make stuff up. The airship that'll pick up Lady will be called the lone surviving ship of the Fleet, and the plan is to welcome you back into the imperial capital Esmeralda with flying colors. The imperial family loves showmanship, after all."

"But... that's hiding the truth."

"The imperial court is worried about the stagnating morale of the populace of late, so that's a trivial cost for getting a massive pro-war boost."

"And Mr. Pilot is fine with that?"

"Because I'm a mercenary. In turn, I'll given quite a sum to remain silent. So I've got no complaints."

"Is that how it is."

"That's how it is."

Charles hardly twitched as he kept eating. But Fana wasn't satisfied.

"I think that's wrong. Mr. Pilot is the one that worked hard, but people that did nothing get all the glory."

"But that's only if everything goes well. We should just focus on making sure we make it. If there's no glory to be had, there's nothing to be angry about."

"That's true, but..."

Charles felt amused by Fana's attitude. The memory of young Fana stirred in his mind again. A long time ago, Fana also had a fierce sense of justice. The Fana sitting in front of him was like a grown version of that Fana.

"You're still not satisfied?"

"No."

"Even if no one else knows about me, if Lady remembers me, that's enough for me," Charles said, carelessly.

But Fana, looking serious, said, "Okay. Then I'll remember pilot Charles, forever."

"I don’t deserve such an honor."

"I'm not joking."

Growing a bit irritated at Charles because he wasn’t taking her seriously, Fana continued eating.

It was a clear night.

Thousands of glittering stars were in the sky. They were so closely packed together that it felt like if she were to reach up, she could scoop out a handful, like the glimmering water of a stream.

Finished eating, Charles fixed the blanket over himself, rested his back against the edge of the boat, and stared up.

"Amazing stars," He whispered.

Fana also untangled her feet under the blanket, and looked up at the same view. "Truly."

It was a night sky more beautiful than anything Fana had seen before.

"But it's better for flying if there're clouds," Charles added with a yawn.

Charles was much more tired than he thought. He'd spent two days flying six thousand kilometers, and had slept in the cramped cockpit at night, so it wasn't surprising.

Just taking one deep breath and closing his eyes for a moment was enough to make Charles fall into a calm sleep.

"Mr. Pilot...?" Fana called. But there was no reply.

She was stupefied by how quickly Charles had fallen asleep.

But Fana quickly started giggling. She knew Charles was tired. She thought she'd give him the boat tonight, and she'd sleep in the cockpit. He was sitting in the cockpit all day, so he should at least sleep with his legs free. She wanted to say that last night, but she didn't have the courage to, so she swallowed her words.

She dumped the remainder of the fish into the ocean, washed the dishes and cooking utensils with ocean water, then placed everything back into the body of the plane.

When she was done cleaning and had returned to the boat, Charles was in a deep sleep.

The sleeper's soft breath melted into the silence of the ocean.

Sitting back down, she hugged her knees under the blanket, and placed her chin on her knees.

"Mr. Piiiiiilooooooot." She tried calling to him, mischievously.

No reaction.

He no longer had that tense aura around him; Charles was now sleeping like a puppy exhausted after play.

"Chaaaaaaarleeeeeees." She tried calling his name.

Still no reaction. Fana smiled and tilted her head, resting her cheek against her knee, gazing at his sleeping face.

"Have we... met, before?" She asked the question that had been bothering her since the journey had begun. She felt like she'd seen the straight, but somewhat mournful look of Charles in the past.

"Why do you fly?"

No answer.

"Do you like war?"

Only his breath answered her. But, if he were awake, this person would probably say "no". He didn't seem like the type of person who would lead the charge in killing people.

"I hate it, too. I really, really hate it."

Conversing by herself, she made sure Charles was still fast asleep before sitting down next to him. Leaning against the edge of the boat, she looked up.

The sky, the ocean, the stars, everything had frozen in place. The cold wind blew indifferently.

Soundless time passed. The black, limitless ocean drew forth a primal fear from deep inside Fana. The clear starry heaven, too, was so big that it was intimidating.

Fana looked at Charles' profile, at her side.

He wasn't feeling any fear. He was just peacefully sleeping, oblivious. She puffed her cheeks, then blew out. Something warm was settling inside of her. Something deep inside her was pleased, sitting next to Charles.

Gradually, Fana's eyelids also grew heavy. The rocking of the boat was so steady, so comfortable, that it invited sleep. Fana, too, was tired from the adventure.

She sank into a deep sleep.

Thousands of stars watched over the sleeping pilot and empress-to-be, both of whom looked as if they would sleep on each other's shoulders.
The ocean rocked their cradle ever so slightly.

Pushed by the waves until the low horizon became purplish-blue, the two of them snuggled against each other, like Java birds.

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</noinclude>

Remembrances for a Certain Pilot:Chapter4

2025-01-17T00:45:23Z

QCore: Updating names to official translations

=Chapter 4=

Numerous clouds came from behind, flew by Fana's side, and vanished beyond her sight.

This wasn't Fana’s first flight. She'd crossed the central ocean in aerial cruise ships three times before.

But this time she wasn't seated in a comfortable chair, looking down at the sea of clouds through elaborate windows with a cup of tea in her hand. Instead, she was stuffed into a cramped seat, traveling backwards, and had to keep vigil over every speck in the sky, without sleeping.
How did things come to this?

Her brothers and caretakers had all explained, but she hadn’t listened. After all, events would occur regardless of her will, so there was no need to listen. At the very least, she was escaping from Rio de Este and flying to the Levamme imperial capital Esmeralda on orders of the imperial prince Carlo. She knew that much, and that was enough for her.

Last night, the imperial prince had sent her another letter through the military radio telegraph. The abbreviated version of the five sweetly worded pages was that he was praying for her safety. According to the letter, he'd been against Fana being forced into cramped spacing until the bitter end, and he felt for her, having to endure such conditions for five days. As always, she hoped the Imperial Amatsukami wouldn't break the codes.

The screeching of the wind was close. Every now and then, the windshield would rattle, making a loud noise. Beyond that thin pane of glass was the sky, and that scared her.

The pilot, controlling the plane with his back against hers, was a quiet person.

Other than some words of caution upon launching and take-off, he didn't say anything, focusing on flying.

Fana appreciated the distancing. Whether she reached the mainland safely or was shot down on the way, she wanted to be able to silently accept her fate. There was no point in trading meaningless words.

Fana kept focusing her silver-white eyes on the blue sky.

She'd undergone training for two weeks, learning how to keep watch. Below the plane, in the clouds’ shadows, near the sun. She shifted her eyes over all the places planes could hide. Nothing abnormal. She didn't really want to be shot down, so she was concentrating as much as possible.

The Santa Cruz was flying heart and soul to the northwest.

In the early hours, the sun, in front of Fana, had caught and passed the plane, and moved diagonally past Fana. Now the plane was chasing after the falling sun.

Then, the sun began to cloud over.

The sunset from 4,000 meters in the sky was breathtakingly clear.

Below them was just an ocean covered with red, and clouds like cotton candy of the same color. Further below ocean birds flew in formation, easily passed by the plane.

Beyond the windshield were clouds she felt she could touch if she were to simply reach out, and countless numbers of ragged clouds, tinged brass and with complex shading, disappeared into the horizon of Fana's view.

It was an otherworldly sight. The colors, lighting, the movement of the earth, all of it was so masterful and perfect that even del Moral’s best designers and craftsmen couldn’t contend.

Every time the plane went through a cloud, the back-drafts from the propeller sliced up the silhouettes of clouds, spraying droplets behind it as it cut through the whitecaps.

"How beautiful," She whispered impulsively. The small words vanished behind the plane, aided by the speed of their movement, and never reached the front of the plane.

Then, she smelled a ticklish scent from the front seat. The pilot in the front seat had opened his lunchbox. The scent of scrambled eggs and mayonnaise and lettuce. Just as she thought that smelled tasty, she could hear the voice pipe.

"I'm going to grab a meal. Have you already eaten, Lady?"

Fana picked up her voice pipe. The servants had told her to only respond in "yes" or "no," so she did as told.

"No."

"Are you feeling motion sickness?"

"No."

"If you're not, you should eat. Otherwise you'll run out of power. Eat, even if you have to force yourself to."

"Okay."

That was the end of the conversation.

As told, Fana took the lunchbox and flask from under her seat.

Watching the sunset, she ate the sandwich.

She munched. It was delicious. When she finished one, her stomach felt even more empty, so she quickly ate the next.

She definitely had more of an appetite than when she was on the ground. Normally she wasn’t able to taste her food, as she was always watched by etiquette tutors, to make sure she was eating with knife and fork. They even complained about how the way she chewed, so she didn't have any time to enjoy the food.

But here, where no one was watching, she finally learned that eating while watching a beautiful scene was this splendid.

She brought the flask to her mouth. That was when a question popped into Fana's mind.

Where do you do your business?

If it were an opera house you would simply stand up and go to a restroom, but in this case, there was nothing of the sort. Just the sky, ocean, clouds, and this plane.

Fana slowly turned her neck and glanced at the front seat. With no trace of awareness of her, the pilot was munching away. It felt embarrassing to need to ask, so she turned back around without a word.

For now, she wouldn't think about anything, decided Fana.

Darkness was slowly appearing on the surface of the ocean. The radium on the dashboard was beginning to light up. With no navigator in Operation Black-tailed Gull, there would be no night flight, so regardless of remaining power, the setting of the sun signified the end of the day's journey.

Charles, as always, checked the front and back of the plane, glancing left, right, up and down while controlling the plane. Roughly 3,000 kilometers in one day's flight. During the whole thing he had to stay sharp, and by the time he landed on the ocean he'd be too tired to do anything else. After touching down and eating an evening meal, he'd immediately fall to sleep.

But, something abnormal popped into view of his tired eyes.

"— hmm?"

Down and right, there was something glimmering below the horizon. He focused his vision. His trained, experienced eyes could see planes in the sky even over 1,000 meters away.

He could barely make out something seemingly in flight. It was roughly 12,000 meters away in horizontal distance. And it was about 1,000 meters below the Santa Cruz, flying at 4,000 meters altitude in the opposite direction.

And it wasn't just one. Two, three new specks of light were on either side of the most visible source of light. Charles carefully controlled the rudder, shielding himself with the scatterings of clouds to get in position to better identify the specks of light.

"Enemy fleet."

Far ahead was an enemy mobile fleet centered around an Amatsukami aerial carrier. Focusing his sight even more to check everything, he saw the enemy was in a circular formation around the carrier. The shadows of the ships were visible thanks to the red ocean. Judging from the silhouettes, there were four heavy airships and eight destroyer airships. A true full fleet. And they were directed toward Rio de Este, where Charles had come from. Probably to start another bombardment.

They were big enough that it was easy for him to discover. They probably hadn't seen him yet. There was no need to get unnecessarily close. If he had a radio specialist behind him, he would have contacted Almeria airport, but unfortunately Fana didn't know how to code messages. So all Charles could do was get away from the fleet without being noticed.

Charles used the scattered clouds to hide himself from the enemy fleet's view. They were distant enough that it wasn't really that scary. Comfortably, he flew into clouds, popped out into the blue, then flew back into the clouds. The enemy fleet never noticed, and disappeared into the darkness behind him, toward the east.

He placed a hand over his heart. He was able to avoid combat. Not a bad start.

But as a pilot, Charles had a bad feeling. The enemy fleet was using the peace-time flight path. Would a fleet looking to bombard a city go straight through the open like that...?

That's when he imagined something sickening.

What if, for instance, the enemy knew about Operation Black-tailed Gull because they'd broken the transmission codes? The Amatsukami would send entire fleets on a mission to kill the empress-to-be. Perhaps the fleet they'd just passed was covering the flight paths, looking for the Santa Cruz?

Charles shook away that dreadful thought. It's alright, it couldn’t be. The military command claimed proudly that a thousand brilliant mathematicians wouldn't be able to break their code. And to add another layer of security, the numerical key was changed every week, so the brutish minds of the Amatsukami would never be able to break it.

However... this was the same military command that had underestimated the enemy from the start of the war. He knew there was no "never." Charles had taken them on himself; he knew how up-to-date the Amatsukami military organization was. It wasn't possible to be cautious enough.
The sun was about to melt into the sea as he thought. Night would come soon, making it difficult for him to see the surface of the ocean. He had to land.

Lowering the floats tucked into the Santa Cruz, he opened all the flaps. Throttling the engine and glancing quickly over the dashboard, he began descending, lowering his speed and straightening their direction using the check helm as he pulled the control stick toward him.

The Santa Cruz, losing speed over a smooth area of ocean, landed on its floats with hardly any impact, splashing some waves around it as it settled on the surface of the ocean. It floated on three points: the floats, and the tail.

Coming to a full stop, Charles opened the windshield. He stood up from the cockpit and stretched. The sun had fallen past the horizon, and golden light could barely be seen at the edge of the sky.

Charles sat on a wing, took the five travel cases from the body, opened them along the wind, and opened the rear windshield.

Fana was still sitting silently and emotionlessly. Her eyes turned to Charles. Intimidated by her beauty up close, Charles forced out words.

"We're taking a rest here. Are you tired?"

"No."

"That's good. So, umm, about your luggage, there's too much for flight. I want to lighten the plane as much as possible, so could you pick out which ones you need and don't need?"

Fana stared at Charles, not responding. Getting a bit irritated at the aloof attitude, Charles pressed onward.

"If the plane is heavy, it becomes more likely we'll get caught from behind and shot down. If we're shot down, it won't matter how much luggage you have, right? So we need to throw away as much as possible. If I were to say it on ground the captain wouldn't have listened, so I'm requesting this of you now. There's too much luggage. You should throw stuff away. No, you need to throw stuff away. I am willing to pick out stuff and bundle up in one case, but that would mean I, a mercenary, would be touching stuff a noble would end up wearing, and that's going to bring up a whole new set of problems. Do you understand me?"

"Yes."

"So I need the Lady to pick out which clothing and underwear is needed, and which clothing and underwear is not. Don't you think five suitcases is too much for a trip covering five days and four nights? One should be enough. No, maybe even one isn't needed. Because I haven't even brought a single case into the plane. Do you understand me?"

"Yes."

"Well, thank you. If you please?"

"Okay."

Fana slowly stood up from the rear seat. Charles held out his hand, and helped Fana to stand on the wing. He regretted using a harsh tone, but Fana didn't seem to mind. Feeling bad, Charles hopped back into the cockpit to recharge the metal hydride battery.

Fiddling with the power-source device, Charles switched the metal hydride stack from "generate" to "recharge." The water suction device on the tail-end of the Santa Cruz opened, and massive amounts of ocean water flowed into the metal hydride battery, where hydrogen was extracted, stored in the hydrogen tank, and the rest of the ocean water returned. After a full night of this, enough hydrogen to last the whole day's flight would be gathered.

He glanced back at the wing. Fana was sorting through her luggage with uncertain hands. Charles, who knew her as a kid, hardly recognized the current Fana. Was that head-strong, tomboy Fana completely gone?

Fana checked the contents of the five open wooden cases. There was countless clothing, accessories, cosmetics, bedding, underwear, sleeping gowns, and even a swimsuit.

She'd left packing to her servants, so this was her first time looking at the contents. As the pilot said, this was unnecessary. No one would see her in the sky, even if she didn't put on cosmetics.

Kneeling on the wing, she sorted what she needed into one case.

The thick scent of salt surrounded her.

The color of night was winning the battle in the sky, and there were many stars. The waves washing down the float melted into the ocean.

There was nothing obstructing her view. Just an endless ocean and sky, an infinite peace.

Then Fana felt an unfathomable fear and anxiety.

As it became darker, it became more difficult to discern between ocean and sky, and a night completely different from that of the ground approached. The smell of the air, the pressing wind, all of it was intimidating.

She was frightened by the ocean being under her. If she'd slipped off the wings, she might sink, never to rise again. The color of the ocean in front of her was such that she felt such baseless fear.

The ocean wind sounded like flutes, caressing her tied hair.

Fana felt like even that wind had dark intent.

Hiding her trembling, Fana slowly continued her work.

She could still hear the irritated words of the pilot ringing in her ears.

''He's surprisingly talkative.''

He seemed like the type to sit in the shadows of a tree, reading, once off a plane, so his earlier rant caught her by surprise. And because she wasn't often spoken to like that, it felt refreshing.

And that annoyed face was childish and cute. It looked like an expression she'd seen before, long in the past, but she couldn't remember.

As she was searching through her memories, they heard a distant thunder in the dark.

"...?"

There were no thunder clouds when the sun was still up. But that rumbling was continuing. It was getting closer. No, this...wasn't thunder. It was the sound of an airship's lifting device.

Fana looked from the wing to the cockpit. Charles had already stuck his head out of the windshield, and was staring in the direction of the sound.

Blue light reflected off of Charles' eyes.

It wasn't a star. He focused. A cluster of light, accompanied by the sound of traveling thunder, came their way with swiftness. Even more, a ray of golden light was pointed toward the ocean from the cluster of light, looking for something.

It was without question a large Amatsukami airship. It was difficult determining the distance, because of the darkness, but his experience told him it was a destroyer.

The blue light was for night-time flight, and the gold light was a search light. Probably out of confidence of their air superiority, it was blasting light at full power at night, flying without fear. Clearly looking for something.

They would be caught by the searchlight if they didn't move. Charles quickly shouted to Fana, who was sorting through luggage on the wing.

"My Lady, get in the back seat quickly, we have to go."

He barely saw Fana look at him, dubiously. Charles shouted. "Forget the luggage, quickly!"

"Y-yes."

As ordered, clutching only the swimsuit she was holding at the moment, Fana hurriedly slid into the rear seat. Charles glanced quickly over the dashboard, and the plane began sliding across the surface. The luggage left on the wing would all slide into the ocean. Looking at the swimsuit she was holding, Fana regretted not taking something more useful.

As he'd done on the runway, Charles held the counter-break downward, and slid to a waterspace beyond the reach of the destroyer's searchlights. He couldn't take off, because it was night. He wasn't skilled enough to land with no visibility.

After some distance, Charles looked behind him. Judging by the sound of the lifting device and the searchlight at its underbelly, it was about 200 meters above surface, maybe 1,000 meters away from them. The thick ray of light was scouring the ocean, checking even underwater.

Charles barely breathed until the destroyer was gone. He could make out a line of fighter planes on either side of the destroyer, also searching. If Charles had stopped on the air path he usually used, they would have doubtlessly been caught. Taking advantage of his experience flying across the central ocean, his spontaneous decision to land off-course had saved them.

The creepy, blue light in the darkness finally turned away and left for the western sky, swallowed by the stars.

''Phewwwwww''. He exhaled as he wiped sweat from his brow. Resting against the seat, he stared upward and spoke to both himself and Fana.

"That was close, but we were able to avoid being found."

"Yes."

"That fleet may have been looking for us. It's very likely. Otherwise they wouldn't set up a line to scour the ocean surface."

"Yes," Fana absent-mindedly replied. But Charles was just organizing his thoughts aloud, and wasn't expecting any actual response.

"The enemy may know about this operation. If our coded messages have been broken, that's not surprising."

"Yes."

"It's not a situation I want to think about, but we'll have to keep that in mind. Even though I'm praying from the bottom of my heart that isn’t the case."

"Yes. Umm..."

"Yes?"

"Thank you."

"What?"

"For... carefully explaining things to me..." Fana mumbled. Charles didn't know how to reply, and just stayed silent. He didn't know why the empress-to-be was thanking him. She could act more haughty.

The Knights had actually suspected the code had been broken, as he'd just surmised to Fana. Whenever they launched to raid an enemy, the enemy would be set up with a wall of Shinden, as if they knew of the attack beforehand. Each time, the pilots would demand an explanation, but command would simply reply, "the savage brains of the Amatsuvian yadda yadda”.

But even if the code were broken, this operation was called Black-tailed Gull, and the letters that used those words would make no sense to anyone unrelated. However stupid command may be, they weren't going to just write down what they were doing.

Then...what was that fleet doing?

Fana spoke, as he thought.

"Umm, Mr. Pilot?"

"Yes?"

"If I may ask, is the transmission code broken?"

"It's very possible."

"Um."

"Yes?"

"Ummmm."

"What is it?"

"The imperial prince Carlo... often sends me letters, using the military radio telegraph."

"What are you two doing?"

"I'm sorry, but, umm... in the letter I received a few days ago, he wrote about how he was worried for me. Being cramped into a recon plane for five days, crossing the central ocean without any escort, how he thought it was unseemly. And he rambled for five pages about that."

A long, long silence followed inside the windshield, between the front and back seats. It was so quiet that all that was heard was the waves crashing against the floats. Fana broke it first.

"... was that bad?"

Wordlessly, Charles opened his windshield, stepped out of the cockpit, and stepped onto the wing.

The impact of the confession was so enormous he couldn't stand anymore, and he crumbled down on the wing, groaning. If that transmission was read, operation black-tailed gull was pretty much explained to the enemy.

Mentally, Charles cursed, spit on, laughed at, and beat up the imperial prince Carlo for quite some time. Who did he think this whole operation was for? Why was he personally leading everything to failure? How stupid did he have to be? Maybe being passionate was the specialty of the Levamme, and the imperial prince Carlo was simply trying to fulfill his role, but for god's sakes, please, stop being such an idiot.

The storm of his rage ending, Charles' soul was simply left with a wind of despair. Operation Black-tailed Gull was possible only because of its secrecy. The enemy, knowing that a recon plane was trying to go through central ocean with Fana in the back seat, would lie in wait with full armament, and upon discovery would follow with all its power. Now he had to prepare for the worst scenario, for a flock of Shinden giving chase.

His hands shook. His heart raced, and he began trembling all over.

The situation had, quickly, become unprecedentedly bad.

The operation was already a difficult wish, but imperial prince Carlo's letter made it even more difficult.

The enemy knew everything about the plan, and fleets centered around carriers would be waiting at every turn, ready to greet the empress with Shinden from its bosom.

Meanwhile all he had one was rear-seat machine gun, and worse still, the gunner wouldn't be a trained pilot, but a noble Lady who'd probably never even held a weapon before.

He could turn around and return to Armelia airport. It was still possible to turn around and cancel the mission.

But that would be unforgivable. The air force and the Knights had sacrificed so much for this mission. How many of them were unable to return? If he turned around, their deaths would have been completely in vain. They went gallantly to their deaths for the empress-to-be, nothing else. If he were to go back now, the air force would simply laugh at the del Moral Aerial Knights, dubbing them cowards. And he couldn't bring such a shameful name down upon the Knights, who'd happily become decoys for him.

And, he knew from the start this would be a difficult trip. Just because an unexpected problem popped up didn't mean he wanted to stop now. He wanted to see this proud mission to its end.

It's still okay, he told himself. The code hadn't necessarily been broken. The only thing that was sure, was that a fleet had scoured the ocean surface alone. That's all. They may have been looking for something other than the Santa Cruz.

Charles tried to regain his composure.

Pilots have to be composed at all times. Otherwise they'd panic during a fight, lose control of the plane, and die. They had to control themselves at all times, to survive, and they had to keep strengthening their self-control. Always, everywhere, no matter what.

Breathing deeply, he send fresh air into his lungs. Then he smacked his cheeks once, twice, thrice.

With a determined look, he turned to the west, for Cyon island.

All he could do was keep moving forward. There was no point in whining. He couldn't run away just because things became harder. A man needs to overcome everything.

He kept persuading himself with these thoughts, and stood up on his trembling knees.

''I'll fly straight to Cyon island.''

Determined, though trembling, he glanced across the dark horizon.

"Umm... are you okay?"

Fana poked her head out of the windshield and looked at Charles, worried.

Charles forced a smile, and held out his chest.

"I'm fine, no problem. I'll pull out the Lady's bed now, so please give me a moment."

He pulled out a rubber boat from the plane, tossed it into the ocean, and filled it with an air pump fixed to the top of the tail. The bundle of rubber, floating on the ocean, slowly began to puff up.

This military-use boat, made of thick rubber, was created so that pilots could spend the night sleeping on it, and was big enough to fit three adults. It had good floating power, and you could even bring a fishing rod to do some fishing.

Once enough air had been pumped, he called to the rear seat.

"This is for the Lady's use, so feel free to do whatever you want. Oh, right, are you hungry? Shall I make an evening meal?"

The moonlight helped him see Fana climb out of the rear seat. Her voice trembled as she opened her beautiful lips.

"Thank you. And, umm, if I may ask."

"Yes?"

"..."

"What's wrong? Motion sickness?"

Fana wobbled across the top of the plane, stepped onto the wing, and looked up at Charles.

"Umm."

"Yes?"

"..."

Fana stayed silent, just looking up at Charles.

He felt like he would be sucked into the pure eyes.

The deep, quiet pair of eyes, with lighting that was comparable to the starry sky above them, was of bottomless beauty, such that he felt his soul about to be sucked away. They sucked away his strength, and he felt in danger of slipping off the wings if he wasn't being careful.

Clinging to his fragile state of mind, Charles tried to figure out what Fana was trying to say.

"If you have complaints about the path I'm taking..."

"No, I have no complaints. Mr. Pilot, please, just take a guess."

"...?"

He couldn't even guess, so many things had happened, and maybe his brain was tired.

Fana was usually emotionless, but her shadow showed traces of pain. Like she was holding something back. Like she was holding back tears — that's when Charles realized it.

"Oh, bathroom!"

He clapped his hands together. He hadn't even thought of that.

Pilots generally don't care about that at all during flight. During long flights, many of them just do their business in their flight suits. Charles wasn't that extreme, but because he couldn't stand up during flights, he would do his business in bags designed for the purpose, then toss it out the plane. But he couldn't have Fana do that.

Charles scratched the back of his head and burst out laughing.

"I'm so sorry, I hadn't even thought about that! Yes, umm, I guess the ocean is your bathroom. I'll sit in the front seat, so just call for me when you're done."

"..."

"Tomorrow is a long flight, too, so please just kick out everything inside of you. Ah, but please keep away from the water suction. If a big one were to get sucked in, gas other than just hydrogen would be spit out, ahahahah."

When he said the joke used by many pilots, a loud sound – ''smack!'' -along with a stinging pain on his face ran through him, and his head twisted sideways.

"How rude!"

Chased away by Fana, who he could tell was blushing even with just moonlight, Charles quickly ran across the plane and buried himself in the cockpit.

Resting against the seat, he held a hand to his cheek and looked up.

"I just got slapped by the empress-to-be."

Beneath those words was a smile.

Fana hadn't changed that much from before, after all.

When he first saw Fana that morning, he thought she'd changed completely from their childhood. She was like a puppet doll, with no trace of liveliness.

But after a bit of interaction, he knew that inside Fana was still that head-strong, tomboy girl. The girl who scolded him for picking on a pig and shot him with an awe-inspiring look wasn't dead. And that made him happy.

Charles closed his eyes, and waited for Fana to call to him.

The silence above the ocean deepened.

But time ticked by, and he wasn’t called.

He thought about poking his head out of the cockpit to check on things, but because she might still be in the middle of doing her business, he couldn't just casually look.

He was worried. He had a sinking feeling inside him. But if jumped ran out without being called and she was still doing her business...

As he was repeating that cycle of thought, he barely heard a distant voice.

"Help... me..."

In a flash, Charles leapt out of the cockpit and stood on the wing.

Fana wasn't there.

"My Lady!?"

He called out to the ocean. The reply came from beneath him.

"Mr... Pilot!"

Sticking her head out of the ocean, Fana shouted, before being sucked under again.

Fana was drowning.

Charles dove into the ocean without hesitation, and embraced Fana in the water. Her foot was stuck in the water suction hole. Sliding his arms under Fana's armpits, he kicked the plane with both legs, forcing her foot out.

Breathless, swallowing water, he threw Fana's body onto the boat, and then climbed in after her.

Fana coughed without stopping once she was on the boat.

Charles spat out ocean water as he rested his back against the boat's sides, and gasped for breath.

"What... what were you doing?"

"I'm sorry, but, umm..."

Fana just made a face. But Charles could imagine. She probably wasn't able to do her business on the wing, so she tried to do it in the water, but got her foot stuck.

One act of clumsiness after another, and this was just the first day.

''Phew'', he sighed, and after looking at the starry sky in relief, Charles looked at Fana again.

"Anyways, it'll get cold at night, so let's change. Were you able to gather your belongings in one case?"

"Ah..."

“...?”

"I... left everything behind."

"What?"

"Because, you flew away immediately..."

"Oh... no belongings?"

"... Just a swimsuit."

"Swimsuit?"

"... Yes."

A cold ocean breeze. Charles shivered, and looked at the drenched Fana.

Using a portable gas cylinder, he made a small fire in the cooking stove. The blue flame blazed well, and warmed the two of them on the rubber boat. To prevent discovery from above, they covered the fire with a four-legged steel plate, and placed a coffee pot over the plate.

Charles covered himself in a blanket, warming both hands with the fire. The flight suit he'd taken off was drying on the propeller, along with Fana's clothing.

Fana was on the other side of the stove, also covered in a blanket. Both of them shivered in the cold air.

"Well, a lot of problems on the first day." Charles jokingly remarked.

Fana, embarrassed, mumbled, "I'm sorry for troubling Mr. Pilot so much."

"Oh, no, don't even worry about it. My lack of preparation made the Lady have to go through extreme lengths... ahahahah." He laughed, fixing his blanket.

Fana's wet hair, skin, and her thin collarbone were bluish-white, illuminated in the darkness only by the stove fire. If you were to take off her blanket, she would be naked... or close to it, with her swimsuit. Likewise, Charles was only wearing his wood-fiber underwear.

The appearance of Fana was mesmerizing. Droplets slid down her bare, white neck, down into her hidden breastline.

He could still remember the feeling of embracing her in the water. So fragile that it felt just a bit of force would snap her, so soft, so comfortable—

Realizing the direction of his mind, he shook his head, warding away vulgar thoughts.

But no matter how hard he tried, his eyes kept wandering to Fana. Her figure was acting like gravity, sucking your soul away the moment she entered your vision. All that was left was to bask in the divinity of it all.

She was already fortunate enough to have been born into the special status of House del Moral, but on top of that she had beauty "like getting lost in the face of pure light." Just how much love did God have for her? To Charles, stuck at the bottom of society from childhood, Fana was someone from a distant, distant world.

She was not someone he should be able to converse over a fire with. He had to remember his position.

So remembering, he forced his eyes away from Fana.

"After my body warms up, I'll sleep in the cockpit. The Lady can use the boat."

"In such a small space?"

"I'm used to it. I'll sleep better there than in a makeshift bed."

"Is... that so."

"Please turn off the fire when you sleep."

"Yes, umm."

"Yes?"

"No... nevermind."

Swallowing her words, Fana returned her gaze to the fire.

For some reason, Charles' heart raced, and he could feel his blood heat up.

Feeling himself beginning to lose control, he stood up and jumped onto the tail of the plane.

"Well then, Lady, have a good night. We'll set out before dawn tomorrow, too."

"Okay. Good night, Mr. Pilot."

"Good night."

After saying it once more, Charles escaped into the cockpit, and closed the windshield.

Using the parachute as a cushion for his seat, he pulled the blanket up to his chin, and stared at the summer stars of the night sky.

Lots of things happened today. Yet despite being drained both physically and mentally, Charles couldn't sleep. If he let down his guard, the feeling of embracing Fana in the water would return, and he'd think of Fana's white body.

"I'm an idiot."

Exasperated at his thought-process despite being in the middle of such an important mission, he grew angry.

Forcing his eyes shut, and sketching out flight paths that he would take tomorrow, Charles awaited sleep.

[[Image:Remembrances for a Certain Pilot-4.jpg|thumb]]

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Remembrances for a Certain Pilot:Chapter3

2025-01-17T00:44:16Z

QCore: Updating names to official translations

=Chapter 3=

Though it was still the dark before dawn, the del Moral Aerial Knights were in good humor as they gathered in the briefing room, a rarity for the Almeria airport flight command. The mercenaries of the sky, despite using the same facilities, were usually sparsely mixed into the mob of the Levamme air force with despondent looks. This time, though, they looked satisfied and active, actually eagerly waiting for their launch orders.

On the other hand, the Levamme air force, packed into the same briefing room, looked depressed.

The mission details had been announced last night. Pilot divisions were posted, and everyone discovered that only Charles was headed in a different direction. It was the ranked officials themselves who explained that the imperial prince’s fiancée, Fana de Moral, would be riding behind Charles in a multi-seat recon plane.

The Aerial Knights shouted in joy for Charles, while the Levamme air force harbored only resentment. For the air force pilots sent from the mainland, this was just another layer of misfortune. Because the airways were cut off at the central ocean, there were no reinforcements from the mainland, and the number of pilots and ships stationed here were in steady decline.

Now, the morning's mission was to escort Karino Charles, someone they’d made a point to make light of in their daily routine -in effect, they were to be decoys for him. In contrast to the excitement of the mercenaries, their glum faces weren’t too surprising.

All the murmuring came to an abrupt stop when the Director of the Levamme air force Eastern Battalion, Captain Domingo Garcia, brought his aide into the briefing room. Everyone looked at the scouting reports held by the officer.

He read aloud the report from the night reconnaissance plane.

"The destination airspace, Takatsuka air base, is sunny, cloud altitude of 3000 meters, 3 or 4 in cloud density, and roughly 15 kilometers of visibility. No obstructions to a noon raid."

The Aerial Knights exulted, while the air force clicked their tongues. Only the weather was a worry for this mission, but even that was fine. Captain Domingo jutted out the silver emblem on his breast as he addressed everyone.

"Flight divisions are as yesterday! Air superiority corps will launch now, direct escort and bombing corps will launch 15 minutes after the air superiority corps. Don't forget! All of you are Lady Fana's decoys. This operation is to force every enemy plane from Rio de Este to you. Hold your ground in combat for even a second longer; show them the pride of the Levamme air force!"

Roaring in response, the 21 air superiority pilots ran out of the briefing room.

After watching them exit, Captain Domingo shuffled toward Charles, belly flopping.

"Lady Fana has already arrived. She's waiting at the eastern edge of the runway. Come with me, black-tailed gull," He gravely ordered.
Charles stood and followed the captain. Incidentally, "black-tailed gull" was Charles' code-name for the mission. The operation was simply called "Operation Black-tailed Gull".

"Don't forget. Normally you wouldn't even be allowed to see her face. Don't say anything useless. Don't look in her eye. I'll introduce you. Keep your mouth shut. If she asks you anything, answer with either 'yes' or 'no.' Understood?"

"Yes, sir."

He was used to this sort of treatment, so he responded frankly. As they walked on the red-dirt runway, on Charles’s left and right the air superiority fighters had already started their engines.

He saw the operators running around, through the sand and dust being raised by the explosive rumbling of the propellers.

Stratus clouds stretched out low in the eastern sky, their underbellies tinted red. It would soon be sunrise.

The streamers set up along the runway all shook their tails northwest-ward.

The thick odor of metal hydride gas blown out of the engines mixed with the summer morning wind tickled Charles' nose. The smell was enough to pump any pilot’s adrenaline.

The rumbling of an entire fleet of fighter planes made the earth tremble. The explosive sound emitted from the Armelia airport was music to Charles' ears. The remaining strength of San Martilia would fly out this morning to help Charles.

Passing by Charles' side was three Iris II's in a triangle formation. Dashing down the runway, they left behind the "''ooon''" shriek of propellers as they launched toward the east.

With barely any room for air, another formation of three followed. Their noses were pointed toward an enemy air base, set up near the border. The aim was to raid in the morning, and force aerial combat in enemy airspace. In the meantime, Charles, with Fana seated behind, would secretly fly the opposite direction, to the northwest.

The red sun began to rise from the east. The blazing, inflamed color began to spread from the horizon.

It seemed like the Iris II’s taking to the air flew into a red backdrop. They engraved their refined, cross-shaped shadows into the sky, leaving behind only a mournful echo as the sound of their propellers became distant.

And then...the empress-to-be, Fana del Moral, dressed in an Aerial Knights flight suit, was standing by the side of the runway.

While walking, Charles narrowed his eyes against the light behind her.

The summer morning sky had turned into a frame that outlined Fana's figure.

Her tied, silver hair looked like glossy silk, reflecting the red sunlight, and it looked as if it was placed carefully on top of a frail body that was a bit hunched in grief. It was such a white, transparent, and momentary appearance that it felt just blowing in her direction would make her turn to dust and disappear into the background.

There was no blaming the imperial prince for having his soul whisked away with one look. Her beauty could even be called intimidating.
By Fana's side were some authorities from the del Moral house.

Each of them wrapped themselves in an elegant tailcoat, and surrounded Fana with stern looks on their faces. They were directing these looks to Charles, but it also looked as if they were surrounding Fana to keep her from escaping.

And behind the tailcoats were seven, eight servants. Each of them held big, wooden travel cases.

The captain stepped forward quickly, then straightened and snapped his heels in front of Fana. After giving a worn and customary greeting, he pointed to Charles, at his side.

"This is private Charles Karino, who has been chosen for this mission."

As Charles raised his head, he straightened his back, snapped his heels together, and touched his right fingertips on his temple.

Fana stood within Charles' eyesight. But she was looking somewhere distant, and not at Charles.

She was tomboyish and headstrong when they were kids, but the Fana that stood before him now was no different than a puppet. Her eyes had no life. Perhaps the society of nobles had sucked the humanity out of her, the same way horses are blinded. He couldn't see any resemblance between the young Fana in his memories and the girl in front of him.

After one look at Charles, the tailcoats sent a glance of consternation at the captain. The captain made a sign with his hand. Go. After another salute, Charles ran toward the Santa Cruz by himself. Behind him, the tailcoats and the captain were engaged in some discussion.
His partner for the black-tailed gull operation, the multi-seat aquatic reconnaissance plane, Santa Cruz, greeted Charles in the morning light with its brand new body.

Designed for flying above water, the top half was ultramarine and the bottom half was an ashen silver. The straight, smooth, low wings looked awe-inspiring under the clouds, and that gave him confidence. The glass covering the windshield over the seats had also been polished. And under the body, the new floats had been folded and tucked.

The mechanics were doing final inspections of the top of the wings, the cowlings, the metal hydride stack, the backup battery device, the metal hydride tank inside the plane, and other things. After giving a light greeting to the lead mechanic, he received a few words of advice about how to handle the plane.

Being the top of the line, it was a plane Charles had never stepped on before. The same designer had also done the Iris, so most of the controls should feel the same, but he'd spend the next ten days memorizing little things like the rate of metal hydride depletion and the fingerboard details.

Charles was extremely fond of the ship. Even though it was an aquatic ship, it had similar properties as the Iris II. He also liked that it didn't have many forward guns, it being a recon plane. He didn't need killing weapons for this mission.

There was, however, a 600-bullet magazine just in case, for the backseat machine gun. It wasn't like Fana would shoot it, but because it was highly likely they'd be chased, it would be prudent to at least have some bullets to implant some fear. With those, enemies wouldn't be able to settle in comfortably behind him.

The servants then walked to the Santa Cruz and began shoving the big suitcases into the body. There'd been space for travel necessities planned out beforehand, but they'd brought far too much. The mechanics glared at the servants in irritation, then secured them to the body using wires.

Of course, once away from the area it was his responsibility, so he could just throw away everything that was unneeded. Charles couldn't wait to lift off. As soon as the head mechanic announced everything was good to go, he jumped on the wing and slid into the cockpit.

With the windshield open, he glanced over the dashboard, inspecting everything for problems. After playing with the control stick and foot bar to confirm the dials, he cast his eyes to the surface.

The del Moral house inhabitants slowly walked to the Santa Cruz, and Captain Domingo climbed on a wing. Hurried onward by the send-off, Fana borrowed the captain's hand, and struggled with her balance as she stepped onto the Santa Cruz' wing.

Fana and Charles' eyes met for an instant. As before, there was nothing in Fana's eyes. No nostalgia toward the place she was born, no sadness at having to leave people close to her, not even fear at the journey that was about to begin. Just nothing. The liveliness that should be expected in an 18-year old girl was completely carved out of Fana.

Fana once again borrowed the captain's hand to slide into the rear seat. Because the seats were set in place, you couldn't look behind you during a fight.

The pipe seating that Fana was leaning against and the seating of Charles were the same. If Charles lifted himself just a bit out of his seat and turned around, he'd bump into the back of Fana's head. They were so close that if the engine weren't on, they might even be able to feel each others' pulses.

Then, the captain stuck his bald, bearded face into the front cockpit. He glared at Charles with his yellow-ish eyes.

"I'm begging you, black-tailed gull. My career's on the line."

"I'll do my best."

"Mmhmm. To help your condition, take this with you."

The captain took a bottle of brandy from a ground crew-member, then pushed it onto Charles' chest. Charles glanced at the label; it was a very famous, expensive brand.

"Don't drink too much."

After patting Charles' shoulder once, and making sure Fana had put on her seat-belt, the captain jumped back onto the ground.

Charles lowered his flight goggles, stuck out a hand from the still-open windshield, and motioned to the ground crew.

"Clear the front! Staff on alert!"

The mechanics scattered from the front of the Santa Cruz. The battery stack sucked metal hydride from the metal hydride tank and oxygen from the air to create energy, and the resulting electrical energy powered the propeller engines.

He could feel the comfortable vibration over his body. The clean vibration of the engine told him the machine was in fantastic state. Through it he could feel that the good mechanics had spent all night preparing everything.

He glanced over the dashboard again. Voltage gauge, electrical power gauge, gas pressure gauge, rotation gauge, no problems.

Charles picked up the voice pipe, and spoke to Fana for the first time.

"Are you ready, my Lady?"

There was no answer. When Charles turned his neck to look, he saw Fana picking up the voice pipe next to her seat.

"Yes."

Politeness and indifference were intermingled in the mechanical, cold reply that came through the voice pipe. They could hear each other even without a voice pipe during flight if they raised their voices, but using it was the most convenient way to communicate.

"I will begin lift-off then. No parting words?"

"No."

As Charles had been told earlier, maybe Fana was also ordered to "only answer yes or no." Ending the curt conversation, he motioned with his hands to take off the landing wheel.

The recon plane Santa Cruz slowly entered the runway. Charles saluted the officers and mechanics, lined up to the side.

Even the airport crew that had nothing to do with planes lined up to send Charles off. Inside the air command, the officers other than the captain were stood by the glass window, saluting. The sun, poking its face out of the clouds, stained their faces red and burned their
images into Charles' eyes.

The Santa Cruz strolled down the runway, and reached the designated spot.

Good for lift-off, the runway flag from the ground crew said.

Holding down the break, he fired the engine. The plane shook harder.

Lowering the rudder, and letting down on the breaks, he started moving the throttle. The plane entered the lift-off runway. He switched the engine to full power. As the plane sped up, it ran across the red-dirt runway, with violent vibrations.

He straightened the course of the plane, following the direction of the propeller by holding his leg against the control stick, and holding the check helm to the right.

Wind curled around each wing. Slowly, power to lift the plane gathered. He could hear the sound of wind cutting by his ears.

Checking the feel of wind, he lightly pulled the control stick toward him. He could feel the weight of the wind’s pressure against the two hands gripping the stick.

He could feel the air around him, becoming one with him. Charles leaned into that air.

Wind surrounded the plane. Charles could feel the Santa Cruz' words through the stick, I can fly, now.

"Let's go, then," He whispered, and he pulled the stick to him.

Then, without any sound, the wheels separated from the ground.

The world under the wheels lost its speed. The ground, whipping by so quickly just a moment ago, disappeared. Only the burning sky was in front of the windshield.

The body continued upwards, diagonally, cutting through the world’s gravity. The violent vibrations stopped, and the howling sound of the propellers became distant.

If you were to turn around, you would see the world becoming distant. The further it became, the slower it moved by. The silhouette of air command disappeared, becoming embedded into the ground. And then the airport became smaller, like a child's toy, until it was sucked into the red-dirt ground.

The Santa Cruz left the ground behind as it climbed into the sky.

Rio de Este, wounded by days of bombardment, could barely be made out from the rear, but that, too, quickly got sucked up by the earth.

A comfortable G covered his body. Lightly shifting the control stick, he coaxed the nose, still rising, to the west, and settled the plane parallel to the horizon at 4,000 meters' altitude.

Closing the windshield, glancing once more over the dashboard to check for problems, Charles smiled to himself in relief. It was a pure smile that he'd never show anyone on the ground.

Only the sky, clouds, and his ship.

Charles loved flying through the sky.

Flying through the sky. He could feel at peace with such a simple thing. No matter how much he was stomped over on the ground, none of it mattered once he got here.

The endless color of sky that stretched out in front of him, and the darker colors above him that would feel like they're sucking him in when he looks up, that infinite bosom embraced Charles, Fana, and the Santa Cruz. Everything that crowded up Charles' heart was filtered out by the sky, and his soul was cleared by the flawless clarity. The sense of security, of returning home after a depressing ordeal, floated up from inside him.

If it were peacetime, it would be a calm five days and four nights to the Levamme Empire. But it was wartime. The skies over the eastern ocean were covered with the Amatsukami air fleet. He couldn't let down his guard.

The two things key to the success or failure of this trip meant staying alert: to find the enemy before being found, and to quickly escape. That's why he was flying alone.

Charles picked up the voice pipe, and called to Fana.

"My Lady, please keep watch over the back. If you see something shining in the sky, please let me know immediately."

"Okay."

"During flight I'd like if you kept watch, rather than sleep. There's a lunchbox under the seat, so if you become hungry, go ahead by all means."

"Okay."

For the two weeks prior to launching, Fana had received G-resistance and look-out training, so he could probably trust her to a certain extent. Her eyesight was also 1.5 in both eyes, so that was quite comforting. Keeping watch wasn't something that differed much between veterans and newbies. Actually, veterans may be so accustomed to the job that they lose their concentration and slack off more, so some pilots actually prefer newbies who would be too afraid to lose focus.

Charles placed the voice pipe back to the side of the cockpit, and re-gripped the stick. Keeping watch over the front was Charles' job, so he had to keep watching the sky without letting up. Cloud density four, visibility roughly 10 kilometers. After scanning over the horizon, he then scanned under it. After confirming his first check in front, he turned around and confirmed the sky behind him. He'd entrusted Fana with keeping look-out behind him, but he still felt more comfortable checking with his own eyes.

The sun eventually rose fully into the sky, and the indigo blue of the ocean beneath them became darker.

Briefly scowling at the compass, Charles adjusted their direction, and they began calmly flying north-west. Fana, sitting in the back seat, said nothing. There were no enemy ships, enemy planes nor shadows. It was a disturbingly silent departure.

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| Forward to [[Remembrances for a Certain Pilot:Chapter4|Chapter 4]]
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Remembrances for a Certain Pilot:Chapter2

2025-01-17T00:43:01Z

QCore: Updating names to official translations

=Chapter 2=

Even if he was trampled on by people on the ground, he would lose to no one in the sky. That was the pride of private Karino Charles of the del Moral Aerial Knights. Even as a former refugee bestado, he was free as long as he was in control of the stick of an Iris II. There were no social hierarchies in the sky. Only the strong survive. That simplicity was good.

However, even so…this spec difference was too unfair!

Hammering at the throttle to speed up, Charles looked behind him.

Beyond the organic glass windshield was a clear, 4,000 meters of blue sky. But marring the expanse of blue was a single, jet-black plane, chasing him down with calm composure. The sharp nose, the crooked wings, the propeller on its back – Amatsukami Air Fleet's latest single-seat fighter plane, the "Shinden", or True Lightning, that had been unveiled along with the start of the central ocean war.

Charles was piloting the Holy Levamme Empire's pride, a new single-seat fighter plane, the "Iris II." Before the combat began, everyone assumed the Amatsukami air force would be shot down by Iris IIs before they could even see the Great Fall. But upon opening the lid of war, an unpleasant surprise awaited them.

It became clear that it was actually the Levamme air force that couldn't even get close enough to see the Great Fall. Iris IIs couldn't touch Shindens, and the airspace over the Great Fall quickly fell into the Amatsukami Air Fleet's hands. The effectiveness of superior fighter plane fleets in aerial warfare was a harsh lesson taught to the Levamme imperial command.

Armaments, flight distance, maneuverability, top speed, climbing power… the Iris II was inferior in every way. And the gap in inferiority wasn’t even close. It was so inferior that current pilots would shed tears of blood in frustration, and bad pilots would instantly give up the moment a Shinden showed up, not even wanting to fly anymore. A certain flight expert remarked that it was as if the Shinden had "skipped two steps ahead in flight technology development." Charles knew first-hand that wasn't an exaggeration. Shindens were faster, quicker at turning, could climb better, and hit harder.

“I can't win!!” Charles spat this out as he kicked the footbar with both feet, bit-by-bit, controlling the stick with his whole body, trying to shake the Shinden. But he could imagine the Shinden pilot just smirking as it looked like the Shinden was casually being pulled toward his tail.

Charles had the pride of being a del Moral Aerial Knight ace. He was confident he was superior to most Levamme pilots, and truth be told, he had utterly demolished a slew of Levamme air force aces. Everyone acknowledged him as the best pilot of San Martilia, Karino Charles.

However, even so, for him to be dominated with such ease!

Charles used his overboost. Using up an enormous amount of his metal-hydride battery, the Iris II, aided by the explosive boost in speed, turned into a climb. There was a thin, silken-thread-like cloud at around 5,000 altitude. He wanted to fly in there and lose his enemy.

He looked behind him. The Shinden followed, after a bit of hesitation. Nodding once and calming his breathing, Charles nosed his Iris II into the cloud.

Cloud flight was the pride of Charles. Most pilots risk airspace ataxia and prefer not to fly in clouds for long, but Charles had the God-given gift of being able to hang onto an invisible horizon, and the skill to maintain according plane control. Passing through the cloud, he saw the blue ocean spread under him.

''Did I get away?''

When he looked behind, Charles' eyes opened wide.

Unbelievably, the Shinden had managed to come even closer to the Iris II. Not just a bit closer, but so close the Shinden's nose was about to ram the Iris II's tail. Getting as close as possible to take the enemy down in one volley was the ideal of a pilot, but this was too close.

It was like the legendary sword technique of the Amatsukami, the Iainuki. The unavoidable single strike, fired from anything constituting its range, would slice its poor victim in two. Charles' survival instincts slid the windshield back. The outside air rushed in.

They occurred almost simultaneously: the Shinden's 20mm guns on its wings opened fire, and Charles threw himself out of the cockpit with his parachute.

The shattered parts of his favorite plane danced into the late-spring azure. One wing was torn off, and dragging its blazing tail, Charles' plane spun in free-fall down to the ocean.

Biting his lips, he opened his parachute as he fell straight down. After a momentary load on his breast and shoulders, a yellow flower blossomed in the air. It was Charles' first parachute.

The Shinden was swirling around the falling Charles, proud of its handiwork. The enemy pilot was probably rejoicing, gazing at the pitiable sight of the loser. It was so humiliating he felt his brain about to catch fire. He swore he'd never parachute again. If he were to have to taste this much humiliation a second time, he'd rather die.

The Shinden crept closer. It was close enough to make out the pilot. Charles narrowed his eyes, and peered into the cockpit.

The pilot, with feminine features, lorded over Charles, smirking. His neck was covered in a fancy sky-blue muffler. Near the nose of the plane was an illustration of a beagle, as if making fun of people.

"I won't lose, next time." Carving an oath into his brain, Charles muttered out loud. Done gloating over his triumph, the Shinden turned, then left, happily flapping its wings.

Charles shouted after the vanishing plane.

''"I'll remember you, Beagle!"''

Shouting, he woke up to his own voice.

Groggily opening his eyes, he raised himself. A white, thin sheet had been placed over him. Looking around, he recognized his surroundings as the ever-familiar pilot dormitory. Outside the window was the red-dirt runway of the Almeria airport. He could hear the propeller of a patrol plane in the distance, mixed with the voices of some early morning insects. Sunlight, traced by the window sill, shone onto the hardwood floor.

By the side of the bed, his fellow pilot, Joakhim, was looking at Charles, puzzled.

"Tug of war?" He asked, looking worried.

Forcing laughter and brushing hair away from his forehead, Charles shook his head.

"Dreaming. Of when I was shot down two weeks ago."

"Ahh, that. That's what you get for fighting a Shinden. We've been told not to take them on, you know?"

"I'm regretting it enough. Stop teasing me."

Charles slid out of the wooden bed and did a light warm-up, cracked his knuckles, and changed out of his wood-fiber nightgown into his white flight-suit.

Compared to an Amatsuvian, his facial features were carved deeply, and his eyes were a transparent water-blue. But otherwise, he had chestnut hair and a slender body, with skin that was more light-peach than white. At first glance you would instantly think him a pure Amatsuvian. The reason why he wasn't able to enter the Levamme air force despite his magnificent flight skill was because of the blood running through him. But Charles didn’t hold a grudge against anyone about that. If a bestado were to enter the air force, he'd be subjected to a lot of malice. He was content with being able to fly in a fighter plane as part of the del Moral Aerial Knights. Most of the Knights, after all, were vulgar, rough social outcasts, but they were all light-hearted enough to joke about their own birthplaces and blood as they flew. That sort of atmosphere was a salvation to Charles.

Yawning, he washed his face, then went to the cafeteria with Joakhim.

There was no mission that morning. The early-rising del Moral Aerial Knights were gathered at one side of the cafeteria, eating oatmeal at plain, wooden tables.

[[Image:Remembrances for a Certain Pilot-2.jpg|thumb]]

The vacant seats stood out blaringly. Half-a-year since war began, the Knights were already halved in number. But no one talked about that. If the moment were to arise, they would gladly give remembrances to their fallen comrades, but in order to stave off grief, it was not a normal topic of discussion.

Taking his portion of the morning meal, he said good morning to his comrades, and pulled out a wooden chair.

On the other side of the cafeteria was a cluster of Levamme air force pilots.

They were allies, but they never really spoke. Mission briefings were done separately, and in most cases, the Knights were simply used as decoys for the air force. That's why their losses were so staggering.

The del Moral Aerial Knights had been created by Duke Diego, using his personal finances, with the blessing of the imperial family. They had the grandiose name of 'knights,' but in truth they were simply a gathering of pilots, regardless of background, thus essentially just a group of mercenaries. Their primary duty had been to fight pirates and escort transportation vessels, but when war broke out, they were shuffled under the command of the air force, and for the most part forced to fly into battle. The air force pilots all looked down on the knights, considering them "soldiers hired by a rustic noble," and despite their sacrifices, garnered no pity.

There were many who shook in anger at being treated as animals. They were mercenaries, so they didn't have any obligation to continue serving the army. But San Martilia was filled with the starving unemployed, so there weren't many kindhearted people willing to employ people who could only fly. Thus, they'd all return, shoulders drooped, for that day's worth of bread.

"Another weird one just came." Joakhim commented. Of late, several high-ranking officials had been arriving in black cars at Almeria, and would have long discussions in the aerial command room.

Swallowing the last of his breakfast, Charles remarked, "Hopefully the imperial prince hasn't come up with another new strategy."

The Knights chuckled. The feeble mind of the emperor-to-be, imperial prince Carlo Levamme, was the source of amusement not just for the Knights, but also for the air force.

"When will the Eighth Special Mission Fleet get here?" Joakhim sighed, neither serious nor joking, and another chuckle rose from the Knights.

The Eighth Special Mission Fleet had been dispatched eastward.

It would later be written into history books as the beginning of an unprecedented bridal reclamation operation. The story began three weeks before, when the del Moral mansion was violently attacked by seven Shinden.

Duke Diego's viciously burnt corpse was found among the rubble, and the three primary newspapers on the mainland printed the news on the front page.

It seems, they wrote along with the details of the incident, that imperial prince Carlo's fiancée, Fana del Moral, was being targeted by the Amatsuvians. By abducting the young, beautiful Lady from the Levamme imperial family, they would force an indefinite postponement of the wedding; the already-low morale of the Levamme army would be ground down even further, and the imperial court would feel the onset of war-weariness. On top of this, it was only a matter of time before the Amatsukami air force took complete control of San Martilia airspace. To them, kidnapping Fana del Moral was probably like having the enemy's last hopes in their hands. After conquering San Martilia, they could publicly execute her, or send her into a brothel … anything would work.

And it was this article that sent imperial prince Carlo into a rage, his face flushed with anger and desire.

One week after the incident, the imperial prince drew from the seven imperial fleets one aerial warship, three heavy airships, and seven destroyer airships. Forming a new fleet with them and dubbing it the "Eighth Special Mission Fleet," he sent it off to reclaim his beloved fiancée from the crumbling ruins of San Martilia. At their departure, an enormous party was thrown, with applause and cheers sent after the brave warriors.

The Levamme people are well known for their strong passion. The heroic, romantic mission was enthusiastically accepted by the populace, with newspapers printing showy front-page stories that detailed the love of imperial prince Carlo and Lady Fana. The imperial prince, a central figure in Levammian beauty, personally sent the warriors off to rescue his fiancée with every ounce of zeal he had.

The plan was that the Eighth Special Mission Fleet would break through enemy lines, cross the central ocean in ten days, and arrive at Rio de Este. There, they would pick up Lady Fana and other high-ranked officials there, turn and break through the enemy lines again. In another ten days, they’d return to the capital city Esmeralda, in time for a grand ceremony celebrating the reunion of imperial prince Carlo and Lady Fana. That was the plan, anyway.

Now, two weeks after the departure of Eighth Special Mission Fleet, and no one received a single word on its whereabouts.

''What happened to the Eighth Special Mission Fleet?''

A mercenary who loved to gamble made his bet. "300 peseta it never crossed the Great Fall."

Charles didn't respond. It was so obvious it wasn't worth betting on.

There is a limit to how much you underestimate your enemy. The Amatsukami had already deployed their heaviest warships to create a blockade over the Great Fall. Lumbering warships would have no chance of slipping through. And if a skirmish broke out at the Great Fall, flocks of Shinden would be deployed from Awashima and Iyojima, destroying any defenses of the Special Mission Fleet and turning it into scrap.

Warship cannons are no match to the air-to-air thunder of fighter planes. That was common knowledge to most of the world.

''They were underestimating the Amatsukami far too much.''

There was a great difference in the Imperial Amatsukami that had been defeated by the Holy Levamme Empire 60 years ago and the one that was fighting now. They'd spent the last 60 years furiously advancing their technology, and was now capable of producing parts with not a hint of Levamme influence. The Shinden was simply one of those products.

''The reason why we’re struggling so much is because the Levamme imperial command is unwilling to acknowledge the vast technological superiority of the enemy'', Charles thought.

That was when an officer he didn't recognize, wearing a Levamme air force uniform, called Charles' name from the cafeteria entrance.

Dropping the spoon that was he was bringing to his mouth, Charles stood up on the spot, snapped his heels together and saluted the officer. According to the insignia on his breast, he was a commander.

"Sorry to interrupt your meal, but there's an emergency. Come with me to the command room."

"Yes, sir."

The air force pilots shot Charles a suspicious look. Some of them didn’t even bother hiding their animosity, and outright glared. They weren't amused by a mere mercenary leaping over their official standing and being called by a high-ranking officer. Charles followed the commander, not paying them any heed.

The late-July sky floated above them as they left the dormitory. White, clouds were scattered everywhere, blown by the carefree wind. Sounding its propellers, a patrol plane was calmly cutting diagonally through the blue sky. The bluish-gray cowling reflected the translucent sun-rays.

Contrary to the wooden dormitory, the aerial command building was a sturdily-built two-story building. Large, brown cicadas were resting against the white-painted walls, basking in the warmth.

The Director of the Levamme air force Eastern Battalion, Captain Domingo Garcia, was seated on his leather chair in the command room on the second floor, waiting for Charles. His protruding stomach, his balding head, and the military cap plopped on his head marked the special characteristics of this man.

He glared at Charles, elbows resting on the office table, chin propped on his intertwined hands. Snapping his heels together, Charles placed his right fingertips over his temple in salute.

The commander went to stand by the captain's side, and opened a black notebook. He had an average build and height, and didn't look especially out-standing, but every now and then, he'd throw Charles a very discerning eye from behind his glasses.

Leafing through the profile documents, Captain Domingo lifted his slightly-yellow eyes.

"Private Charles Karino, of the Amadora region. 17 confirmed kills, 0 unconfirmed kills. A strange record."

"It is an honor."

"Do you like matching your recorded kills with the confirmed battle records?"

"No. I simply report it as I see it."

The captain snorted at Charles' response.

The Levamme air force recorded numbers from the battlefield in two ways. One was the pilots' reports themselves, and one was sent from the aircraft observing the battle, and these would be noted down as "confirmed kills as by both pilot and observer" and "kills reported by the pilot but unconfirmed by the observer." Because of this system, some shady pilots would have records of "0 confirmed kills, 17 unconfirmed kills." But Charles was the exact opposite.

He was honest, but he was also a fool. The number of kills dictated the stature of a pilot, and unconfirmed kills weren't just a sham. There're plenty of actual kills that simply occur outside of the observer's vision, which made this a useless honesty for Charles.
That's when the commander, staring down at the notebook, asked.

"We highly regard that straight-forward personality, though. We've done a background check, you were raised by a priest of the Aldista Church?"

"I was orphaned when I was nine, and the priest picked me up when I was starving to death when I was ten. While under his care, I was able to find work doing errands around the Almeria airport. I am very thankful to him."

Not knowing why he was being investigated so deeply, Charles tried to hide his worries as he replied.

Charles's father was a homeless seasonal worker; in other words, a refugee. While struggling to survive on the bottom-most rung of Levamme’s class system, he ruined his lungs in the coal mines and died. His mother then took the young Charles and used her connections to find work at at a noble's mansion, but after a few years was fired because of an incident. Shortly after, she was killed, stabbed by a masher at a bar. After wandering around Amadora as an orphan, a nearly-frozen ten-year-old Charles was picked up by an Aldista Church priest. It was then that he was able to resume his life.

It was through various lines of work that he began to frequent the Almeria airport, and befriend its pilots. He soon learned how to fly a plane, and then worked towards his current position, where he was able to fly a plane without a license. There was no lie in what he told the captain; even today, he still sent portions of his salary to the church.

"We recognize that you are a devout believer of the Aldista religion. Is this wrong?"

"I do my best to remain devout at all times."

"Then what do you think of men and women who have pre-marital intercourse?"

Still not knowing where this was leading, Charles answered with a line from the Aldista teachings.

"They fall to hell, to be burned for all eternity."

"Wonderful," Said the commander, apparently satisfied, and looked at the captain, prodding him on.

The captain stood up in an extravagant manner, clasped his hands behind him, and looked out the window. He spoke while facing away.

"Everything you hear from this point on is top secret. No matter the reason, if you tell anyone else this, you will be punished according to military law. Even amongst colleagues, you must not speak of this until granted permission."

"Yes, sir."

The creepy feeling of a confirmed suspicion was touching the back of his mind. He wondered if he shouldn't listen to this after all, but curiosity won out.

"I want to entrust you with an important mission."

With that, the captain turned back to face Charles. This obese bald man liked putting on a show, Charles concluded. Each and every action was done deliberately, and it was beginning to irritate Charles.

Having toyed with Charles to the point where the latter's irritation was bubbling close to the surface, the captain stayed true to the feeling that the enormity of the situation doesn't actually appear until an illogical order is bluntly given. And thus issued from his mouth the most illogical order.

"With the Empress-to-be in your back seat, you are to fly alone through the central ocean and pass through the enemy blockade."

With the order given, the command room fell silent. Only the sound of the four-bladed electric fan mounted on the ceiling could be heard. Charles absorbed the order he'd just been given, doing his best to comprehend it.

The captain, trying his best to maintain his composure, asked, "Can you do it?"

"Huh?"

"You are to deliver the imperial prince Carlo's fiancée to him."

"Uh. Umm."

Charles simply could not understand his captain’s order. So he sent a look of plea to the commander.

"This mission was supposed to be carried out by the Eighth Special Mission Fleet. But it was impossible. You can probably imagine what happened, but the Eighth Special Mission Fleet will not be arriving in Rio de Este to receive Lady Fana.

"However the reputation of the imperial prince must be preserved. After all, this was a mission of such magnitude that a grand ceremony was held. The failure of the Special Mission Fleet is not an option. The war-weariness faction would gain enough influence to call an end to the war. Thus, the annihilation of the Eighth Special Mission Fleet must remain a secret until the end of the war.

"Because of this, we absolutely must send Lady Fana to the imperial capital Esmeralda at all costs, and have the triumphant return festival held as planned. Yet, the Eighth Special Mission Fleet obviously cannot carry that out.

"That's where you come in. You will seat Lady Fana in a multi-seat aquatic reconnaissance plane, break through the enemy blockade alone, land on the waters near Cyon island, where there will be a friendly airport, and send a message to the mainland. The mainland will then send an airship to pick up Lady Fana, in secret. As you have probably figured out, this ship will bear the same emblem as the Eighth Special Mission Fleet.

"This ship will then arrive at the imperial capital, the lone survivor of the glorious mission to rescue Lady Fana, and she will be reunited with her beloved imperial prince Carlo. Imperial prince Carlo's Eighth Special Mission Fleet operation will thus have succeeded, and they will live happily ever after.

"Of course, you'll be rewarded well. You'll have enough to enjoy your life three times over. If the operation succeeds, you're free to live wherever you want, however you want. The imperial court will no longer be able to push you around. I'm actually quite envious.

"Harumph. Well, that is the plan hatched with the blood of command and the desire of imperial prince Carlo; the best we can do given the situation. It's an everyone-wins plan. Any questions?"

Though it had harsh realities mixed in, thanks to the kindly broken-down explanation provided by the commander Charles was finally able to understand.

But at the same time his throat became parched as he realized the magnitude of the order. It was so enormous he wanted to sit down.

He choked out his words. "Why are you entrusting this to me, instead of one of the Levamme air force pilots?"

"A good question, from one who understands his position, pilot Charles. The answer is simple. There is no one in our air force that can fly through the central ocean using only the terrain. Not only will you be using a reconnaissance plane, it will also be Lady Fana, not another pilot, in the rear seat. That's why it is important that the pilot can fly across the ocean without using any instruments. You've gone on round-trips across the ocean multiple times, haven't you?"

"Yes. It will be no problem," Charles answered with honesty.

Using the terrain meant relying on landmarks to fly, using the mountains, rivers, birds, and fish as your map. All single-seat fighter pilots fly this way. To fly without using landmarks, you need a navigator with highly specialized training in flight instruments.

As the commander said, del Moral Aerial Knights had flown across the central ocean numerous times before the war broke out. That's why most of the Knights could fly back and forth between the continents without a navigator. On the other hand, the Levamme air force pilots had never flown across the ocean without a navigator, so not one of them could undertake this mission.

On top of that premise, Charles was the del Moral Aerial Knights ace, with 17 confirmed and 0 unconfirmed kills, along with the religious belief that pre-marital sex would lead to eternal damnation in hell. Those were the reasons why Karino Charles was chosen.

"Just to add, upon arrival at the imperial capital, Lady Fana's body will be inspected by the church. If she is not the innocent being she was upon departure, regardless of the success of the mission, you will be executed by gunfire. Any complaints?"

"N-no. The inspection itself is a humiliation of my beliefs."

Seeing Charles's anger, the commander silently laughed, then became serious once more, his eyes glimmering beyond his glasses.

"Can you fly 12,000 kilometers into an enemy squadron, alone, while protecting a beautiful princess?"

Charles hesitated to answer. He quickly planned out a route in his mind, then thought out loud. "It would be difficult, but not impossible. I believe it's a lot more realistic than using a fleet to send one person back to the mainland," He answered honestly, then peered at the commander, to read his face. It looked satisfied.

If you send an entire fleet, complete with a departure ceremony, then of course it'd be discovered by the enemy and annihilated. The enemy wouldn't stop firing until it was eradicated. But placing Fana on an aquatic recon plane and flying secretly, using its superior speed to try and break the blockade, wasn't impossible. As long as you were vigilant, found the enemy before they found you, and fled. Even if the enemy began chasing, it was fast enough to shake them. He couldn't take on a Shinden, but he could run. And Charles, confident in his cloud flight, felt he could shake any as long as a single cloud was in the sky. Plus, contrary to a fleet, it was just one recon plane. The enemy wouldn't send an entire fleet after it. There may be times he's chased by three or four Shinden, but it would just be like warding off a few annoying bees, like play. Of course, if he were to accidentally fly into an enemy fleet preparing for a massive operation, he'd probably be hounded, but there shouldn't be a case of being chased by a rotating set of 30-40 planes, especially not when he's just in a recon plane.

But, there was one sticky point.

"The problem is the aquatic recon plane's properties. At the very least, I'd need something that can fly at the same speed as a Shinden."

"We know. We'll be using the latest multi-seat aquatic recon plane, the Santa Cruz. Its top speed is 620km per hour. It can travel 3100 kilometers between refueling, and has one 7.7mm machine gun in the back seat. It also has a newly-designed collapsible float. Being able to stow the float away makes it incomparably better than other aquatic recon planes. We couldn't make it match a Shinden in top speed, but it's still one of the fastest planes around. The enemy will struggle to shoot down a Santa Cruz."

Charles nodded. It would take tremendous skill to shoot down a plane using maneuvers at top speed. If the Santa Cruz could actually output the specifications the commander listed, then it increased the odds.

As he talked, a flight path from Almeria airport to the destination, Cyon island, began to take form in Charles' head. The biggest problem would be crossing the Great Fall, as the blockades from Awashima and Iyojima would overlap. If he could get through there without
being discovered, this mission would almost certainly be a success.

''The Great Fall.''

An edgeless waterfall running north-south, splitting the central ocean.

It had 1300 meters in height, with the higher, Western Ocean being connected to Levamme, and the lower one connected to the Amatsukami Eastern Ocean.

Until about a hundred years ago, before airplanes, neither country knew of each others’ existence. Because it was impossible for regular ships to go down or up the waterfall, both felt there was no world beyond the waterfall.

When airplanes were invented, it was made possible to fly past the waterfall, and both countries had found each other. The next frontier was finding the "north end and south end" of the waterfall.

''Where does the Great Fall end?''

This question, asked since the naval era and now a romantic dream of sailors, had still not been solved. So many people had set sail trying to find the answer, and whilst some returned, having run out of supplies in the middle, still others vanished, never to return.

Both the Holy Levamme Empire and the Imperial Amatsukami, having spent vast amounts of money in this venture, concluded that "there are only the east and west continents on this world. Other than these there is only an endless sea and a waterfall with no end," which is a very useless conclusion. And with no conclusion to the world's truth, both powers began waging war on each other.

At the same time, because of this enormous quest, the technology to power airplanes was invented. The "metal hydride battery" was used by everything that flies. This battery was not just able to store energy, but able to create it.

They say a certain alchemist invented the metal hydride battery.

For three days and nights he poured ocean water into a box that contained various chemical substances and liquids, to split the hydrogen from oxygen. He then used reverse electrolysis, to create small currents in the two metal rods sticking out of the box.

At first, people around him considered it a nice street trick. Alchemists were alchemists because they were to create gold out of mud, so what was the point of making fireworks out of ocean water, they laughed.

But one investor heard rumors and came to the alchemist, wanting to see it in action, then almost fell over in shock. Everything began to change, as the investor paid an exorbitant sum to buy this invention, then created a company that both used and sold products using the metal hydride battery.

That's when the world moved from the steam age to the industrial revolution.

After all, electricity was being made from ocean water. The materials needed to make the battery itself were expensive, but as long as you made it, you no longer needed to fund a power source.

Steam power, which was used until then, vanished instantly, replaced worldwide by this "metal hydride battery."

Nowadays, most airplanes simply refuel the batteries over the ocean. And now there were even some ships that took off the floats, not bothering to refuel over the ocean, like the Shinden. But because most combat took place over the ocean, ships with floats still constituted the majority of air fleets. They were less effective in combat, but even if you got lost, you would be able to refuel.

Charles' mission, too, was based on simply lowering the floats to refuel the metal hydride batteries. Santa Cruz would go at least 3000 kilometers between refueling, so at the very least he'd need at least four nights to refuel.

Charles realized he was already planning out how to make the mission succeed. When he looked up, he found the commander amused by Charles's furious thinking.

"Do you want the mission?"

Again, Charles hesitated before answering. It was too heavy a mission for him. With the light of hope of the empire seated behind him, if he were to be shot down, there'd be nothing he could say.

After a long silence, he opened his mouth. "May I have time to think about it?"

"But we only have you."

"It's too heavy a task for a mercenary."

"I consider you a proud, trustworthy pilot. Your background doesn't matter."

"I am honored. However... I'm also a timid person whose legs trembled upon hearing this mission. Please let me think about it over the night. I'll have decided by tomorrow morning."

The commander looked at Charles' legs. The two slender legs were trembling just a bit. With the mission fully understood, the weight was bearing down on him.

"I'm hoping for a good response. I’ll say it again, you're all we have."

Charles looked relieved at the commander's response. After being reinforced about remaining silent, Charles was let out of the command room.

With Charles gone, left alone, Captain Domingo glanced to the commander at his side.

"Well, he is as stupidly clean as you said."

"He's also very skilled. Him being young and single is an issue, but he meets all the conditions for the imperial family's approval."

"Even so, no matter how skilled he is, to have to send the future empress with a refugee bestado through an enemy blockade … what has the world come to?" Captain Domingo spat this out, then sighed.

As the Captain said, even though San Martilia was on the verge of ruin, it was still an audacious, unprecedented plan.

Roughly 700 years since the country was founded. The Holy Levamme Empire, from its founding to the present, adhered to a strict social class system, where the ruling family dominated the hierarchy.

Charles was born as a refugee, a class that wasn't even a class – regardless of his profession, he was destined to be discriminated against his whole life.

Refugees were technically part of the working class, but even amongst the working class there were divisions and severe inequity. Those who were part of this class could only rely on their physical bodies to make a living. Most jobs were in the worst of conditions and were hard labor. Pay was used for food and possibly shelter, with almost no possibility of any sort of luxury. The current working class was pretty much fated to be bought up by capitalists.

Above them was the middle class, or the citizens. Their jobs were based around production, maintenance, and merchandise, where they bought and sold others’ products for profit. It was a social class that had been necessary of late. There were hundreds of divisions even in this class. With a hierarchy even amongst the store owners, each would have to disdain or look up to people of different levels. They're called the middle class, but that was really just a generalization of a big cloud of professions and hierarchies, with a strict adherence to the relationships generated by them.

The classes above the middle class were far fewer in number. This was the domain of those surrounding the Emperor, the class of nobles. Clinging to the principles of vested rights, it was a class rife with conflict. Lower classes had to be abused in order to further their own power, lest they be displaced by another.

And lastly, at the top was the Levamme imperial family – this was the class Fana was to enter. The imperial family held veto rights to every meeting, and was the only class with the power to wield a military. Their monopoly of armed forces was the cog to their strength, as they were able to control when, where, and how violence could be placed. During war, they are able to draw from every standing military unit, which is what made it possible to arbitrarily form a new special unit, though it was a historically foolish move.

Overall for good or for bad, the imperial family had power rivaling that of God. To the empire, treating the imperial family as divinity wasn't an exaggeration.

And so it was that Fana del Moral, on the brink of ascending to divinity, would need the help of a refugee bestado to survive, a scenario produced by such an era – and that was why Captain Domingo was vexed.

The commander simply viewed the class structure as highly repressive but perhaps a necessary evil due to tradition. With his middle-class background, though, he could not speak his mind. However he did feel pity for Charles who, despite being so skilled, was unable to enter the Levamme air force simply because he was a bestado.

For the rest of the day, Charles soothed his curious colleagues, suffered the jealous stares of the Levamme air force, and spent the rest of his time in complete silence.

Eventually, when moonlight lit the lukewarm air and the crickets stopped chirping, Charles snuck out of the dormitory to walk under the full moon.

He was too anxious to sleep. Living up to the weight of his role was something he wasn’t confident about, although for a pilot, it was a very tempting mission. That it wasn't a normal killing mission, but a mission to save a life, made it especially so. But if he failed, there would be no going back. There were other pilots more skilled than he, so maybe they should be entrusted with the task-

Cradling an agony without an answer, he covered his wood-fiber gown with a red blanket and walked the midnight runway. The red dirt under his heel no longer had the noon's warmth.

He lit a cigarette in the middle of the runway. A spinning numbness ran through his mind. Feeling a comfortable dizziness, he blew smoke toward the sky, and indulged in his memories.

During his conversation with the officers, there was something he didn't tell them. He had braced himself for the question, but apparently they hadn't been able to dig into his childhood.

Looking up at the reddening moonlight, Charles retrieved that memory from his heart. He'd watched it so many times during his rough childhood that its taping was probably frayed and beat up. Come to think of it, it was summer then, too.

Green grass that had soaked up plenty of August sunlight, and a field of sunflowers.

The del Moral mansion's garden was as vast as a city with a forest and a small river, and even had a rough sentry house for the patrols.

Young Charles lived in that house, while his mother was a maid at the mansion.

Every day, Charles worked on the grass, the garden trees, and the flowers with the elder gardener, clearing the walkways.

With an overwhelming number of tasks, he could only see his mother once a week, and the gardener was also quite mean. Because he was a bestado, he could play with neither the Levammian children nor the Amatsuvian children, so his only friend was the pig in the animal pen.

One day, the gardener had been particularly cruel, so Charles ran out of the sentry house, hid in the animal pen, and hit his pig friend with a branch. Why did he have to go through this? He didn't want to be a bestado or a refugee. He wanted to be reborn as a citizen. While crying like that, he picked on the pig. The pig ran out of the pen, crying, and escaped to the grass field in the middle of the garden.

As Charles chased after it, still crying, a girl got in the way.

"Why are you picking on the pig?"

It was a little girl with silver eyes and hair, wearing a pure white one-piece. Her shoes and socks were spotless, and she was so cute it was like she'd been cut out of a picture book.

Behind her was a field of sunflowers, and the spread of yellow petals swayed in the wind, with dancing butterflies frolicking amongst them.

The translucent eyes looked at Charles straight-on.

"Are you crying?"

"What?"

"Was the pig picking on you?"

"No."

"Then why are you crying?"

"Not crying." Charles quickly rubbed away the tears.

The girl admonished him. "You shouldn't be picking on the poor pig."

Charles knew who the girl was. He felt embarrassed about his ragged wood-fiber shirt, his dirtied worker's trousers, the cloth shoes that didn’t cover his toes.

"Are you lonely?"

"Huh?"

"You're crying because you're lonely, aren't you?"

"No, that's... not it." Charles fidgeted as he answered.

The young Fana del Moral looked at him suspiciously, stooping her head under his.

"What do you want to play?"

"Huh?"

"Okay, let's play tag. You're it. Ready, go!"

''Tat tat tat'', and away Fana ran. Charles stood there dumbfounded, watching her small back.

Fana waved a hand from the forest. Turning to the dumbfounded Charles, she puffed her cheeks.

"Come on, chase me, or it’s no fun."

[[Image:Remembrances for a Certain Pilot-3.jpg|thumb]]

Surprising himself, Charles chased after Fana, hands stretched out in front of him.

Squealing happily, Fana ran away, Charles behind her with his clumsy plodding. When he finally brushed that small back, they heard an adult's voice from far away.

"Mistress, Mistress Fana-!"

Fana responded to that voice in a surprisingly unhappy voice. Then she turned those big, silver-white eyes at Charles.

"Sorry, I hafta go."

"O-Okay."

"Promise me you won't cry anymore."

"Okay."

"Even if you're lonely, don't do anything bad. Okay?"

"Okay."

Fana smiled happily, reached out with both of her hands, and embraced Charles.

He could feel Fana's warmth. And beyond his apprehension, he learned affection.

For some reason, Charles felt like crying again. But he'd just promised to not cry anymore, so he held it back.

His heart raced. Fana's scent was comforting to his nose. Charles felt an emotion he'd never felt before.

After a moment, Fana let go, looked at Charles again, smiled, and ran out of the forest. When he looked at the grass outside of the forest, he noticed tutors breathlessly running towards her. It seemed she'd escaped from lessons to take a walk outside the mansion.

In the end, that was the first and last time he'd met Fana. After a short period, Charles' mother was fired because she'd gone against the Duke's orders, and the two were forced to wander the streets. Then his mother was stabbed for no reason, died, and Charles would later be picked up by a priest as he lay freezing to death.

The church’s duties weren't easy, and class discrimination continued. Humiliation and contempt on a daily basis was tough to deal with. But he cheered himself up with memories of Fana, whenever he felt down. After all, a girl from such a high rung of the ladder had consoled a person like him, all the way at the bottom, and embraced him like a saintly mother. It gave him incomparable warmth. Because of it, he was able to become a pilot, instead of stepping out of the world of civilization.

That was the only memory he had of his childhood. He'd left all the cruelty behind, only leaving the scent of sunflowers and the warmth of Fana engraved in his heart.

He inhaled deeply from the mostly burnt-out cigarette, and blew out. The red smoke, absorbing the moonlight, vanished into the night. Soaking in the sweet, comfortable sentimentality, he toyed with the horrible-tasting cigarette.

"It's become much clearer," He whispered.

He'd read in the newspaper that that tomboy girl had become engaged to the imperial prince Carlo. The photo of Fana, who he'd not seen in over ten years, was blinding. She was so beautiful he did a double-take, finding difficulty believing that something could remain unsoiled in such a dirty, disgusting world.

''If I can, I want to help her.''

If he had to live the life of a sewer rat, and was destined to die in the sky like garbage, then just once, he wanted to accomplish a task he could be proud of. If he could rescue Fana de Moral, who'd saved him when they were young, wouldn't that be something to take pride in?

When he falls through some sky as a ball of fire, wouldn't he be able to say his life wasn't one filled only with regrets?

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Remembrances for a Certain Pilot:Chapter1

2025-01-17T00:41:59Z

QCore: Updating names to official translations

=Chapter 1=

Before being named San Martilia, 55 years before now, this region was called "Tsunebino."

In Amatsukami, it means, "the forever cloudless plains." As its name suggests, it was a clear, beautiful plain, and until the Levammians passed the central ocean and invaded, it had only been inhabited by some poor fishing villages.

Overcoming the central ocean, the Holy Levamme Empire reigned over the western continent, and the Imperial Amatsukami, the eastern continent. The culture, art, and schooling of both great powers became mixed here, on San Martilia -a Levammian autonomous region on Amatsukami territory like a floating island -and had become a blend very much unlike that Intercontinental trading capital, Rio de Este.

"That's why this city, with its mix of Amatsuvian and Levammians, is a very unnatural sight to those of each country, is what Captain Domingo meant."

Seated in the carriage and wearing a plain, dark red dress, the tutor replies. Despite the constant danger of biting her tongue because of the rough surface of the road, the tutor raised the bridge of her glasses with her index finger, and unleashed cold, pointed words to the girl facing her.

Fana del Moral let the words slide past without breaking her emotionless façade. Looking away from the tutor, she gazed out the carriage window, at Rio de Este's sunset. Below the indigo-blue July sky, the solemn, stone-built city lined either side of the large road, and was lighted in brass by the falling sunlight.

For Fana, who'd been born and raised here, it was a normal sight. But a certain Levammian regarded Rio de Este as a "Toy City." As if it weren't real, but rather a model. The towering white stone wall reflected the evening sun, and bounced back a golden hue. Every passing building was quite magnificent, but you could also feel a sort of coldness, as they also brushed aside every passer-by.

A steeple so tall that if you were to look up, your hat would fall off, a trust bank covered with white cosmetic mortar, an austere victory memorial supported at the front by a row of columns, a town hall made of smooth, simple brick, and to its side a general public theater adorned with beautiful ornaments. Many magnificent pieces of architecture jostled for space on either side of the carriage.

And in front of these: a wandering salesman and his mobile soba store, a drunk hunched over, a wild dog, a cat, a crow corpse, Amatsuvian staring at the carriage in envy, an orphan covered in rags, a middle-aged prostitute. All these inhabitants of the shadows reminded observers that this used to be Amatsuvian territory.

Before the war, Levammians wearing proper clothing used to strut around this road, but now, when the sun begins to set, poor Amatsuvian stream out of who-knows-where and start grouping up. Likely if a middle-class Levammian walked these streets, they would immediately be attacked and stripped. You could still see flashes of the beauty that once was, but the air as a whole felt heavy, sickly, and stale. People sat by the road, or lay on their sides, and you could spot some Levammians among them. They're people who lost their jobs because the funds that used to come into the city were cut.

The root cause of the stagnation was this unfavorable war.

Just half-a-year earlier, this city was like a dagger to the throat of Amatsukami, but now it's just stuck in the middle of enemy territory, and with no place to escape it'd simply become an island on its own.

The Amatsukami Air Division had cut through the Levammian camp's communications lines, and was constantly fighting over airspace with the Levammian Eastern Air, including that of San Martilia. If the Eastern Air Division were to fall, then the Levammians of this city would become like mice in a bag, with no place to run.

Fana glanced upward. She saw the dusk sky, framed by the silhouettes of buildings.

Two transportation ships cruised away at low altitude. The ash-silver bodies reflected the sunset. They were probably headed for the border. Would the soldiers inside be able to return home?

Right now, the Amatsukami Fourth Ground Division was in occupation of the border and its surrounding areas. The moment the San Martilia airspace was taken from Levammian hands, with one word from the Amatsukami emperor, roughly 120,000 ground troops would come storming in, in tandem with the air fleet. That would be the curtain call for the 55 years of San Martilia history. The gloom and the tenacious negativity inflicted on the Amatsuvian by the Levammians for the better half of the century, would simply shift to those with no place to run. She didn't want to imagine the sort of hell that would befall this place.

"Are you listening, my Lady?"

At those words, Fana's gloomy profile snapped to attention, then turned to the tutor.

"My apologies."

No emotion could be seen on Fana's face. She looked neither unapologetic nor defiant. It was like speaking to a wall.

The tutor closed her eyes, then pushed her glasses up again. Thirty years of hammering etiquette into noble ladies as her livelihood. With just one slender female arm, she'd straightened out so many failures, so many girls with energy and no heads, enough that she'd even been invited to the emperor's dinner parties.

Foolish children you wanted to strangle. Strong-willed, independent children, children who had problems with concentration and mental strength. Their numbers were so large she’d even contemplated writing a book on the difficulties of teaching them proper etiquette, but to this day she’d continued the job because of the satisfaction she’d feel with every success.

But Fana del Moral, the girl sitting in front of her, was the biggest problem and worst nightmare over her 30 years of tutoring.

She was 18. Born into the renowned House del Moral. The only daughter of Diego del Moral, the governor of San Martilia.

And… the future empress of Levamme.

The girl destined to marry the emperor.

She was already the fiancée of the current imperial prince, Carlo Levamme, and it was arranged that she would cross over to the western continent in six months' time for the formal marriage.

Emperor Figaro Levamme, loving the grandiose, wanted to make this wedding more gaudy than any in the past, and had started hiring slews of performers, artists, and architects to prepare for the wedding. If the handsome imperial prince and the lovely noble lady were to be married in a beautiful, dazzling wedding, the country would be sure to overflow with blessing. The ceremony must be so incredible that the darkening feelings from the war would be blown away. That's why the tutor's job was so important.

[[Image:Remembrances for a Certain Pilot-1.jpg|thumb]]

But it was difficult dealing with Fana. Extremely difficult. Her interior and exterior were unreal. Especially her looks.

''Abnormal beauty makes onlookers feel inferior.''

The tutor struggled with this. These thirty years, she'd tutored enough students to go through all of her fingers three times over, but Fana was the first time she'd felt in danger of being worn down by a student.

It was possibly too strange to say it, but Fana del Moral was too beautiful.

A certain poet was said to have described Fana's looks as "comparable to the losing one's way in the absolute light," and that probably wasn't an exaggeration. Actually, you could even tilt your head to the side, wondering if that description was even enough.

This Fana, sitting across from the tutor, was like a work of art, created by God with all of God's creative and imaginative strength.

As someone made more like the nose crud of God, the tutor couldn't help but fall in love with the sight of absolute beauty. She was on such a different dimension that there was no space for anything like envy, and she simply would find herself with jaws agape, soul sucked away by God's true strength.

Her silver hair, long enough to reach her waist if let down, was raised and ornamented with a coral hairpin, and below the hair was an even brighter silver-white eye.

The eyes, shaded by long, silver eyelashes, glowed with such light that it seemed like stars had moved into them, and it would feel like magnificent forms were taking turns reflecting in them.

If you weren't careful, you'd be sucked into Fana's eyes. That's how deep they were. A fragile, fleeting beauty that was like the thin film of ice covering a lake at the onset of spring, like it would crack with a sound if you were to touch it.

And pure, healthy, milk-colored skin. Thin, rose-colored lips. Her seductive, voluptuous body, so flawless in a bath, was now covered in a grape-wine colored dress, snugly and modestly. But no matter how much clothing tried to hide physical attractiveness, it would seem like fiery sparks came forth from her silhouette. Any onlookers would be overcome with a supernatural feeling, of wanting to touch her, yet feeling unworthy, as if she were otherworldly, and had come from some mysterious shore.

When Fana walked through the street, passerby would run into gas lamps, or fall off the road, or get run over by carriages. When Fana climbed stairs, young, middle-aged, and old would come tumbling from higher steps, having slipped off. And this wasn't limited to men. Women, too, would misplace a foot, then come tumbling down with bedazzled looks. It was so dangerous that as of late, it'd become customary to surround Fana with a wall of people whenever she had the need to climb stairs. Most people hearing this would shrug it off as a joke, but it was no lie that people were known for falling from the top of stairs upon seeing Fana.

And the things Fana wore were also magnificent.

Fifty years ago House del Moral blazed a path from the capital Esmeralda to Rio de Este, then founded a trading capital off the power of a grand airship, raking in enough capital to turn it into essentially a small country. It shouldn't be a surprise that the Lady of House del Moral would be adorned with expensive ornaments, but it was still abnormal how much money Duke Diego had spent adorning his beloved daughter.

House del Moral, having essentially formulated in just two generations, was a newcomer to the Levamme imperial court. This meant that compared to the stars of the court, they lacked history and lineage. Diego wanted to solidify House del Moral's standing in the court, and so wanted to wed Fana to a deeply rooted and powerful family. Thus Diego spent enough money that "Fana's jewelry would be able to buy an entire fleet," and the gold, silver, and gems numbered so many that she would never wear the same thing on consecutive days. Plus, esteemed designers were entrusted with fitting her every day, so that it was never in poor taste, but in fact specifically calculated to bring out the most of her beauty.

On top of these things, in order to prevent other would-be suitors from taking place at her side, it was determined that any dress of hers that had been seen by others was never to be worn again. And truthfully, no matter how much of a dramatic impact one may have had, the tutor could not remember ever having seen it again. The Fana-exclusive dressing room on the third floor of the del Moral household was home to at least 2,000 dresses, rivaling three months' worth of salary for a middle-class citizen, and that number was sure to keep rising.

Fana’s physique and personal appearance were so overwhelming that, skipping the deeply rooted and powerful families, she'd shot through the heart of the imperial prince, Carlo Levamme. It was a wedding pushed strongly by the prince himself. Duke Diego's wishes had come to fruition. Once tied to the imperial family, the status of House del Moral was promised. Moreover, as a link between the imperial family and the common-folk, many enterprises and investors came forward, wanting to use the opportunity to spread their businesses. This money was in turn invested into Fana, and her beauty kept soaring to new heights. All that was left was the smooth completion of the wedding ceremony, and Fana needed to be imbued with proper etiquette for that.

It was time for a veteran of dealing with foolish noble daughters, ladies who were not comfortable dealing with social norms. The tutor of 30 years' experience.

But Fana's looks made the tutor of a thousand seas and mountains shrink.

When the clear eyes peered straight into her, the words coming out of her mouth would lose their momentum, then start to shrivel back into her throat.

Wouldn't words from this imperfect self, directly toward such a flawless being, possibly dirty her beyond return? If God had made Fana del Moral to show off his artistic talents, then the tutor would have been made to prove he had a sense of humor. Such self-deprecating thoughts would subconsciously rise, and make her want to wrap herself up and run away.

But being mesmerized by Fana with mouth half-open would not be her job.

She had to warn Fana about her speech and conduct at today's garden party.

The tutor closed her eyes and took a deep breath, waited for her pulse to settle, then opened her eyes.

"As Captain Domingo said, it is proper to treat San Martilia’s Amatsuvian as one would treat domestic animals. There is no need to embrace them as people. That is also the will of the Emperor. If you cannot accept the words of your soon-to-be father-in-law, you will struggle to live in the imperial court."

The silver eyes, like the frozen surface of a lake, remained motionless, stabbing through the tutor. Just being looked at was enough to make the brain come close to being paralyzed. However, she mustn't back down, the tutor told herself, as she continued her words.

"Amatsuvian are pitiful at heart. If you show them kindness, they'll simply use it as a means of abusing you. And it is the mistress who will find her values questioned. Do you understand?"

"Apologies."

Fana's emotionless words came back, like the tutor had thrown a rubber ball at a wall.

She didn't understand. In fact, the tutor's words were simply going in one ear and out the other. It was as if Fana's consciousness was covered by skin, and words thrown from outside were simply caught by the skin, and softly bounced back, never to reach the soul.

A curious girl.

Normally she was so boundless that it was impossible to grasp what she may be thinking, then sometimes she would open her mouth and say unexpected things.

It was the same, at the garden party.

"As with Levammians, Amatsuvian have a variety of people, too. They have proud people, they have vile people, sympathetic people, evil people, and people who are both good and bad. Is it the doing of cultured people to simply round them up as vile and leave it at that?"

The captain had been speaking in disdain of the Amatsuvian, and Fana, who'd been silent up to that point, suddenly burst out with that line. The cheerful mood of the party suddenly turned ice cold, and an insufferable silence followed. The captain, struggling with how to deal with the future empress, stared at her tutor with eyes begging for help. She, in turn, wanted to use the fruit knife nearby to commit suicide.

Until the carriage went through the House del Moral gate, the tutor continued lecturing about Levammian Imperial Court etiquette. Fana's replies were either "apologies" or "understood."

The sun had already set. The carriage continued on the long path to the mansion.

Perhaps due to the evening darkness, the del Moral mansion looked like it was spreading wings, far out in the distance. A flickering gas stove lit the white walls and stained everything with a bluish-white tone, making it stand out from the darkness.

No matter how much the carriage went forward, the mansion didn't seem to be getting any closer. That was how vast the garden was, and how big the building was.

In recent years, neat exteriors had become favored in Levamme. Unnecessary decorations were brushed away, and the size of the building was used to demonstrate grandeur. Forced to take part in such a ritual, the carriage ran quite a distance in the garden before finally being embraced by the ]-shaped building.

Fana and the tutor stepped off the carriage with a helping hand from the coachman.

The pure white palace towered over them.

The method of creating this wall was taken from the Amatsukami. Instead of mixing sand into lime, their method called for mixing in a special white paper, which would then result in a much purer white than normal. When the building was first made, Duke Diego was exhilarated by the pure white exterior, but upon learning that an Amatsukami construction method was used, became extremely displeased. Those nearby went through great lengths to explain to him that Levammian methods were used for everything else, and thus he was soothed. But the displeasure on his face was so great that everyone feared he would order the whole building scrapped on the spot.

The tutor led the way into the foyer.

The exterior was simple, but the interior was decorated with the fullest of fervor. That's the Levammian way.

The foyer was like a night sky, filled with stars.

Looking up, there was a high, circular ceiling painted indigo blue, supported by fulcrums from the side walls. Engravings of angels and stars made of gold were scattered everywhere, and several candle-stands placed on the ground lit everything, making it feel as though the room had no gravity.

They continued down the hallway, greeted silently by excessively clothed butlers standing shoulder-to-shoulder.

The side walls were lined with famous paintings, candle-stands of pure gold, and on the high ceiling, mother-of-pearl woodwork. Be it an architectural necessity or something else, complex linear components blended in as fulcrums to the ceiling.

It was a never-ending flood of luxury. A complete blend of paintings, architecture and sculpture. Should a visitor they step through the wild tints, their senses become paralyzed, and passing through the corridor subconsciously carves into them an awe of the del Moral house.
Walking straight forward, toward the library, the tutor spoke behind Fana.

"I would like to have you read until dinner. Please study Pedro Jimenez' books on economy. You have one hour. I shall question you about the contents after dinner. Understood?"

"Yes."

"Afterward, we shall continue with the piano lesson you failed the other day. After you pass, we'll complete the remainder of the poetry homework. Then you shall bathe, and sleep is scheduled for 11 tonight."

"Yes."

"As obedient as ever."

"Yes."

Fana's response had no color whatsoever. Usually girls of this age were angry or rebellious against such a restrictive schedule, complaining or begging for pity, but it's almost as if such lower-level emotions had been peeled away from Fana. In a way it made her easier to deal with, but at the same time it was unnerving.

She does everything she is told far too indifferently. She was more like an automaton. Maybe it was because she grew up with an unnaturally high amount of scrutiny, resulting in a higher tolerance of restrictions?

The same way deep-sea fish live with the water pressure as their normality, perhaps restrictions and suppression was simply the water she was used to. Her looks were so beautiful it'd suck away your soul, but the shape of her soul might be as grotesquely deformed as deep-sea fish.

In many ways, she was far from a typical student. The tutor inwardly sighed, then opened the door to the library.

With all of her daily lessons completed without interruption, Fana changed into her silk sleeping gown and lay sideways on her bed.

The maids gathered up the clothes Fana had taken off and left the room.

The vast and cold marble floor. The walls of impeccably polished stone. The furnishings lining the walls gave off a scant luster in the darkness. Moonlight, cut out by the decorative rafters, shone through the large, arched window, and along with the slight vibrating sound emitted by the electric fan mounted in the ceiling, stirred the tepid air.

The bed’s canopy surrounded it with such a thin, light silk that it felt like blowing just a bit would send everything floating.

This was the only time that Fana could be alone.

Without closing her eyes, with her sheets up to her breast, she stared up at the craftsmanship of the canopy.

Paintings of pegasi flying through stars, layered on top of flocks of angels. It might be the work of a famous artist, but it was quite excessive for something to see as you sleep.

Fana slid out of bed, slipped her toes into a pair of fluffy slippers, and walked to the window. Pressing her forehead into the glass, she looked up at the night sky. The bluish-white moonlight poured over Fana's body, coursing through her un-bound silver hair.

The bamboo thicket outside of the mansion was bending to the night breeze. A full moon hovered over it. Beyond the bamboo thicket was an ocean.

''I want to swim, she thought.''

Today, on the way to the garden party, she saw the ocean from the window of the carriage. She could see the smiles of the people that had been in the ocean. Everyone looked like they were enjoying themselves.

That was the only memorable thing from today. And she would probably forget, by tomorrow. And as she watches, things that had nothing to do with her would continue occurring.

When did she first begin looking at the world like she was watching an opera?

She couldn't remember. But in the 17 years she'd been living, at some point, she realized there was no relation between the reality she saw in front of her, and her own will.

When she was little, she went to a zoo, with her mother and her two big brothers. There were many rare animals, and Fana especially liked a child elephant. Thinking it'd be nice if she'd be able to play with that child elephant more, she looked up at her mother, and said, "I want to work at a zoo when I grow up." Her mother gave her a stern look, and her two big brothers simply laughed and made fun of Fana.

She couldn't work at a zoo.

At some point, that reality had settled into her heart.

''Fana del Moral was born into this world as a trophy for men.''

It was decided the moment she was born. Regardless of her will, that was what would happen. The premise, that she was simply a gift, had rooted itself into her, had become her.

Her parents had probably gone through extreme lengths and many tutors to prepare her for this, to make her understand that it was simply the natural thing. Normal people would cause trouble about this, but by the time she'd began formulating thoughts, she'd accepted her status as a gift as the norm.

"I'm a thing," Fana whispered, as she stared at the bluish-white moon.

She didn't feel anything. Not an ounce of pain. Next, she whispered it with her soul.

''I'm a thing.''

Because she's a thing, she doesn't need to be bound by human emotions. She wasn't the least bit upset.

When she'd come to realize it, the world was already on the other side of a clear glass. Even if she reached out with her hand, the thick, tough glass impeded her way, so that she couldn't grab anything. Eventually she simply stopped reaching out. That's how her current self was made.

But, sometimes, she'd have a strong emotion.

Right, like during today's garden party, when she'd heard that bearded, moderately aged man, Captain Domingo, she was felt anger for the first time in a long while. She'd instinctively reached out to the other side of glass. Of course, the result was an awkward silence and the tutor's lecturing, but she had no regrets.

Why did she defend the Amatsuvian then?

When she thought about it, she thought of an Amatsuvian from deep down in her memories. She had a pockmarked face and was very skinny, a kind-hearted, middle-aged woman who didn't have much going for her in terms of looks. She was a maid for a young Fana, who'd been kind to her.

It was when she was able to sleep in her own room by herself for the first time.

When she lay down on her bed and turned off the lights, the furnishings in the vast room and the designs on the ceilings made the young Fana start crying immediately. But no matter how much she cried, no one would come, so Fana slid out of bed, tossed aside her sheets, escaped from her room and started roaming the halls.

Really, she wanted to go to her mother's room, but she knew she would be scolded severely. If she went to her brothers' rooms they would tell on her and she would be scolded in the morning. Her father's room was far too scary to go to. After all, her strict father was the scariest.

The mansion was so vast, but there was nowhere to go.

Fana simply wandered around the corridor, crying, until she was found by the Amatsuvian maid.

"Oh dear, mistress, you shouldn't be going outside of your room. Master will be angry again," The maid said, with her accented Levamme tongue.

“I'm scared,” said Fana, and then that middle-aged maid who cared not about her looks silently picked her up and hugged her.

"You must be lonely. You're this small after all. You're still the age to want to latch onto someone, right?" The maid said this as she walked down the hall, and then she started crying. Fana was happy that someone would cry for her, and sobbed, with her arms around the maid's neck.

She was carried back to her bed.

She would be in trouble if she were caught, she lackadaisically said, but nevertheless the maid sat down next to the bed and told Fana a certain story, until she slept.

It was a story that was built on the three-thousand year history of Amatsukami.

Fana had never heard a fascinating story like that one the maid told.

Many heroes and beautiful women showed up, hated each other, fought each other, and loved each other.

There were many wars, armies that moved at a dizzying pace, and there were many fighting styles; proud people, unfair people, good people, bad people, people that were neither. They all struggled in their lives, some finding happiness, some being exterminated.

Fana swallowed hard and listened to the story.

She was angered by the selfish actions of the unfair, while moved by the noble actions of the proud. When she asked about things she didn't understand, the maid would break things down for her. The maid was much kinder and warmed than her mother, who was obsessed over social glory. The maid gave her the love her mother would not. Fana ended up longing for bedtime.

Right, because she'd heard such stories, she couldn't stand the Captain's attitude. Amatsuvian are varied, too, and it's not right to just bundle them up as evil, the maid had taught her.

But the stories stopped without reaching the conclusion.

Because one night, she vanished from the mansion.

Wanting to know what happens next in the story, and lonely because a beloved vanished without a word, Fana started crying herself to sleep every night again.

Some day later, she heard the truth from a big brother. Her father had found out that the Amatsuvian maid had been telling bedtime stories to Fana every night, and she was fired on the spot.

She was sad. Very sad.

For the first time, she'd realized that the maid she didn't even know the name of had, every night, risked her job to tell her stories. She was like one of the proud people in the stories, striving to comfort Fana at the cost of herself. And so Fana cried.

She didn't remember when those tears dried away. And as the tears dried, she also stopped feeling strongly about anything. She remembered crying a lot, so she must have cried a lifetime's worth of tears, and washed away all of her feelings, too.

Gradually, she began looking at everything from a distance, without caring about what she was told, and just accepting everything. She was no longer hit on the back of her hand with a whip anymore, so she probably looked like the Fana del Moral her father desired.

Now, she could even look at herself from a distance.

One year ago, when she'd gone to the Sierra Cadis archipelago for a vacation at the behest of her father, the imperial prince Carlo, who'd been resting there, confessed his love for her. They had met just once at the imperial court's dinner party, but apparently Carlo had become incapable of thinking of anyone other than Fana. The Emperor had no qualms about accepting the Lady of House del Moral into the imperial family. Fana's father of course, the members of the senate people with prominent power or comparable stature, as well as everyone related to the imperial court; all had come to agreement on the arrangement, and thus they brought Fana, who knew nothing, to the imperial prince. Because of the once-in-a-lifetime nature of the event, the imperial prince desired a dramatic scene, and so she was brought out to the romantic southern sea paradise to have love confessed to her. Passionate actions are the specialty of the Levamme people, and it was the Levamme imperial family that strongly encouraged such things.

Fana couldn't refuse.

Even at such a critical point in her life, it felt like the imperial prince was passionately confessing to someone unrelated to her. When she replied the way she was taught by someone, she remembers seeing joy spread across his face.

“Crickets have begun chirping in the imperial city Esmeralda, I want to see you soon. I can't wait for the wedding in a half-year…” was the message Carlo had left her by telegraph yesterday.

Ever since their engagement, Carlo would constantly use the military radio telegraph to send her letters. Fana had never read a letter from him from start to finish. They were forceful, too sweet, and would tire her out in the middle. But even though she wasn't asking for them, the telegrapher would write a response for Fana, then ask for her confirmation. For the most part, they were embarassingly written to please the imperial prince. But she didn't feel like writing them herself. So Fana would always silently nod in confirmation, and the telegrapher would send the sweet, melty letter 12,000 km away to the home country. If the Amatsukami intelligence were to ever break the telegraph code, Carlo and Fana would forever be the laughingstock of their country.

Along with the resignation that had become her flesh and bones, Fana gazed at the hazy moon outside of her window. San Martilia was trying to enter summer.

It was a silent night. The sound of insects you could barely hear every now and then deepened the silence.

Actually— a strange sound was mixed into the sound of insects.

Her intuition immediately told her so.

She pressed her face against the glass.

Fana's eyes were good. She couldn't see it yet, but something was hidden amongst the full moon sky. She could tell that much.
She tried focusing more. She could see a black dot, and it was heading toward her.

…A fighter plane?

Something reflecting the moonlight was approaching at an unnatural speed from a low altitude.

The Rio de Este airspace is always guarded by the del Moral Aerial Knights. No barbarian was going to make it through… or so said Fana's father, Duke Diego, as he straightened his back in pride. Those words were about to torn apart in front of her eyes.

The people in the mansion seemed to have noticed the unfamiliar propeller sounds. The workers cleaning the garden had quickly scrambled to hide in tall grass.

One jet-black airplane, darker than the darkness.

No one knew why it was there. It was clearly not a del Moral Aerial Knight. Its wings were bent, and it had no propeller, a bit like a snake.
Three of them formed one flock in a triangular formation, and right under them was another four, a flock in a rhombus formation. A total of seven.

The next instant, four planes dropped teardrop-shaped things from their bodies.

The four planes then fired the propellers on their tails at full power, showed their underbellies to Fana, glued to her window, then flew over the mansion with a thunderous roar.

The four teardrops, gliding diagonally through the air, went for the eastern wing of the mansion.

Duke Diego's room.

"''Father''!" Fana screamed, and the four bombs exploded simultaneously at the eastern wing.

The explosion was followed by a crimson flame and a black wall that ripped apart the mansion, and rose into the air.

The tremors reached even Fana, who was on the third floor of the western wing, so much that her knees buckled. She could hear the foundation creaking.

The eastern wing had instantly become hell's furnace. The construction had been flung from the place of impact, laying the thick wooden beams bare, and the blaze flickered as it shimmered red in the night sky. The people in the garden were screaming.

The del Moral house embraced visitors whom entered from the main entrance, with its wings spread. But one of those wings had been cruelly torn off.

"Lady, please escape, it's an attack, an attack!"

The evergreen oak door was violently slammed open, and along with smoke, one butler ran into the room, with no pretense of the usual calm.

"But father, father…!"

He embraced the scattered Fana.

"Please, excuse me."

With Fana embraced, the butler threw himself sideways.

A moment later, a dreadful propeller sound battered against the glass window.

The following three planes had followed the bombers and started gunning the mansion. Along with the thundering sounds of their firing, thousands of machine gun bullets mercilessly rained down on Fana's room.

The polished stone walls were ground away. Heads of granite sculptures were blown apart. The bullet-riddled bed spat out feathers. Big holes punctured the antique books filling the shelves, and the whole room was filled with swirling powder and broken materials.

The shattered walls, broken lights, smashed furnishings and sculptures danced, glittering, in front of Fana.

It was gunfire meant to cause a fire. The machine gun bullets included incendiaries and explosives, and the curtain covering the bed's canopy quickly began burning. The workers shouting about fires in lower floors could be heard.

"We must escape, quickly."

His white hair stained with the color of blood, the butler, covered with cuts, said this as he helped Fana up. Fana was on the verge of losing herself. Whilst her mind tried to keep up with what was going on, the butler carried her on his back.

The butler ran through the blazing mansion. Candlestands had fallen from the walls and spread the flames. The big candlestand that was hanging from the ceiling of the hall had also had its chain snapped, and was now shattered on the ground. The burning tallow candles further spread the fires, making the carpet burn.

The workers all ran around trying to stop the flames, and screams and shouts could be heard from every direction. A black smog covered everything, and ashen white powder was fluttering down from the cracked ceiling.

''What is this?'' Fana's numb brain asked. Reality was always forcefully coming in from beyond, regardless of Fana's will. All Fana could do is to accept it.

''Beyond the glass.''

And as always, Fana decided to cut away her own will from reality. Still being carried by the butler, she escaped inside, deep inside the walls of the glass castle… like an extreme coward.

Fana, who'd looked grim up to that point, turned to the emotionless face of a doll. That her father had been targeted, that her room had been riddled with gunshots, that the mansion was about to collapse, all of it was unrelated to Fana, now.

As if watching an opera, Fana gazed at her crumbling home.

The blood oozing out of the butler's head, the debris obscuring their vision, the soot and smoke, the stabbing, burning smell, all of it was on the other side of the glass. Even if she were to burn to death like this, she was confident she could coolly watch herself die. She didn't think that was sad.

And so, Fana distanced herself from everything. Even the sound died out. Maybe it was because she'd spent so much time building up that thick piece of glass, but Fana even forgot about finding a safe place, and became an inorganic substance, just observing and breathing.

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Remembrances for a Certain Pilot:Prologue

2025-01-17T00:35:11Z

QCore: Updating names to official translations

=Prologue=

It’s on days like today, when I have the money from my toil and sweat taken from me by force, get beaten up, and have my swollen face forced into a puddle by the side of the road.

On days like this I remember one girl, wearing a white one-piece.

She's standing in a sunflower field, her silvery-white hair fluttering, staring at me with equally silvery eyes as she speaks.

“Promise me you won't cry anymore."

“Even if you get lonely, don't do anything bad. Okay?”

I just nod obediently. The girl smiles like the sunflowers behind her, reaches out, and without even thinking about her pretty clothes getting dirty, embraces me. I don't know why, but I want to cry. But I'd just promised her not to cry anymore, so I hold it back. A pleasant warmth and smells drift from her, and feelings from deep within my soul, feelings I don't understand, like pain, grief, and misery, are wiped away.

I lift my head from the half-frozen water and wiped my face with my sleeve. A mixture of mud and blood smears onto the cloth. I touch my head; there are two big lumps.

A group of homeless Levammian orphans had assaulted me. They'd mistaken me for an Amatsuvian and attacked me. Six of them. I didn’t stand a chance. All the money I'd earned from scrounging up iron scraps was stolen.

It wasn't the first time I'd been attacked by a group of orphans. Violence is a daily occurrence here in the Amadora slums of Rio de Este, and people pay as much attention to it as they do to the cries of the pigeons. But my mother was an Amatsuvian and my father was a Levammian, so I end up being targeted by Levammian orphan groups too, which is really frustrating. It's been a year since my mother was stabbed and killed by a drunk, and I've since remained unable to join either group. And as my parents had no friends, I've been stuck living here alone.

Bestado.

People like me, with mixed blood from both countries, are given that label and are reviled for it. In areas of conflict like San Martilia, where the two powers are constantly struggling with each other, bestados, who you’d think should fit in with society regardless of which power is in control, are considered untrustworthy and end up being shunned. Of course, the reality is that bestados can't fit in with either society, so there's no actual benefit. Instead, they are faced with endless hate and distrust. As a lone orphan, all I can do is carry this label to my grave.

Pressing a hand against my hurting head and wrapping the other arm around my empty stomach, I wander around the city looking for a place to sleep for the night as I shiver in the cold air. Every so often, I cough. It's a cough coming from the depths of my lungs, reeking of metal.
The narrow stoned alleyways are a mess of rotten vegetables and household garbage, horse dung and urine. People who'd not once taken a bath in their life and wear clothing they'd never washed hold a bottle of gin in one hand and shout insults at each other with mouths which had never been cleaned. Every now and then, black liquid falls down onto the rancid streets below. It’s the contents of buckets which are sometimes flung from the windows of houses above. If you're unlucky and get hit directly, even during the winter you end up needing to wash yourself in water. I try to avoid traveling next to buildings as I walk, looking up at the December sky.

The thin sliver of sky framed by buildings is gray.

I hadn't seen the light of the sun in a long time.

During winter, everyone fires up their charcoal stoves, so the whole city is covered in a light grey smog. Of course, this means the air is filled with ashen dust, too. My coughing is probably a result of constantly breathing it in.

I'd last eaten three days ago. I can feel the edges of my limbs starting to freeze. Tears begin to well up from the loneliness and sadness. But I hold them back. Because I'd promised not to cry anymore, to that wonderful girl.

But, even so… Even so, there's a limit to everything.

I stop moving forward.

Crumpling down at the edge of the road, I lay down to rest on the cold, dirty ground.

It's impossible to live alone as a bestado in this city. Amatsuvians and Levammians would never become friendly with each other. That's why there’s no place for someone like me, of mixed blood, to go. The only haven for me lies not here on the ground, but beyond the clouds, above the sky.

I think I’ll sleep here.

I’ll close my eyes, and recall my memories of that girl. And then tomorrow morning I’ll be just the body of another frozen orphan by the wayside. A road cleaner will mutter in annoyance while he lifts my corpse, no longer coursing blood, and haul me off to a heap of trash, along with the bodies of dogs, cats, and crows. Eventually the whole pile will be incinerated somewhere outside of the city.

That's fine.

Living is so sad, so painful, it's just not worth it. I just want to become nothing.

But just as I'd made my determination, the sound of thunder from far away rattles my bones.

The low, heavy jarring of vibrating air reaches all the way to the pit my stomach.

Realizing that it didn’t sound right for thunder, I turn my head and look straight up at the cloudy sky. Like an ocean’s storm that had been pasted upside-down onto the heavens, the ashen clouds boil up, dinning, and groaning.

''Babababababa''

A sound like that of a giant bee's wings falls from beyond the clouds.

The thick smoggy layer that acted as a lid for the city is parted like cotton.

Sunlight pokes through the opening. It bundles up in many separate rays, cutting through the dark sky, and stains the dirty roads with a golden hue.

And then, pushing the clouds apart, an aerial warship with the shape of a woodlouse descends. It’s a giant airship around 100 meters in length, weighing more than 40,000 tons. At the bottom of its wide, curved body are six enormous dynamic lifting devices which make a chorus of raucous humming sounds as the sea of clouds is ripped apart. The ship carries itself with such magnificent presence, as if it were capable of ruling the sky. Several half-spherical fortifications can be seen on both sides of the ship, each fitted with a large cannon, keeping watch over the surrounding airspace.

“''Ohhh''!” People walking along the roads gasp in amazement. The Levammians lift their voices in pride, while the Amatsuvian bite their lips in envy. Everyone stops moving as they look up at the aerial warship, as if they were gazing up at an angel from heaven.

I can’t help but feel wonder every time I see such a heavy heap of metal flying. It’s made possible by the incredible power generation of metal-hydride batteries. Even while half-dead and lying sideways on the ground, I feel entranced. It’s definitely not the worst backdrop I could ask for, for my last sight of the world.

The lifting devices groan as the ship turns its head eastward. Perhaps it’s flying to the border of Amatsu to issue a challenge. The Levamme imperial family has been letting its aerial might speak for itself, with the intention to grab more territory from the Amatsu. The frequency of these aerial shows of power has been increasing of late.

Leaving an incredible wake behind, forcing aside clouds as if it were floating through a frozen sea, the aerial warship passes over me. Most of the sky has been cleared, and the translucent December sunlight stains the alley with bright beams.

Several dozen propeller-powered "Iris" fighter planes fly alongside the warship. The sound of lifting devices drown out the noise of the propellers, but the brand-new machines gleam in the sunlight as they glide across the blue sky with their elegant, two-winged bodies.

Still lying sideways on the ground, with only my head facing up, I continue to stare at the majestic warship and fighter planes.

''The sky is pretty.''

For some reason that thought springs to mind.

All the people here spitting as they walk, the rotten smelling vegetable market, the gutters piling up on the side of streets, the cries of street peddlers, the disease-ridden wild dogs, the dirty, smelly beggars… None of that exists in the sky. The clear, endless sky.

I feel such envy at people who can fly freely in such a pretty place.

A single teardrop wells up and falls from my eyes.

I stretch out my hand, trying to grasp the sky. But it doesn’t reach. It can’t grasp anything. The fleet of Irises pay no heed to the hungry orphan on the verge of death, and calmly soar onward, eventually vanishing from the canopy.

I want to live in that pretty sky.

If only I could live like I was melting into that pure, spotless blue, instead of this dirty ground.

If I could live in that endless sky, with no class hierarchy, no poverty, no contempt, no scorn, I wouldn't need anything else in the world.

With the last of my strength, my one hand still stretched upwards, I let out a wordless scream. God had brought so much suffering upon me for so long. Would it hurt him to fulfill just that one wish?

At that moment—

I realize that someone had clasped my hand, the hand that could not reach anything, that could not grasp anything.

An aging man with a large beard encompassing his mouth gazes at me as if he were examining my soul, and smiles.

The black robes of an Aldista Church priest enters my vision.

"You don’t want to die, do you?” he asks in a soft voice, as though he were reading my very heart.

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</noinclude>

Remembrances for a certain pilot

2025-01-17T00:31:33Z

QCore:

[[Image:Toaru pilot.png|thumb|Volume 1 Cover]]
The ''Remembrances for a Certain Pilot'' series is also available in the following languages:
*[[La princesse et le pilote|French (Français)]]

'''''Remembrances for a Certain Pilot / To Aru Hikūshi e no Tsuioku (とある飛空士への追憶)''''' is a light novel series written by Inumura Koroku and illustrated by Morisawa Haruyuki.
An animated movie was released in Japanese cinemas on 1 October 2011. The popular title in english is "The Princess and The Pilot"

==Story Synopsis==
The story revolves around Charles Karino, a Levamme Empire mercenary aerial pilot who mans the twin-seater reconnaissance seaplane Santa Cruz. One day, he receives a preposterous assignment: to fly solo over 12,000 kilometers of enemy waters to protect a girl named Fana del Moral. Fana happens to be the next in line to the empire's throne and a girl possessing beauty "equal to 5,000 beams of light."
(from MangaUpdates)

== Translation ==
===Format Standards===
'''Every Chapter (after editing) must conform to the general format guidelines.'''
*[[Format_guideline|General Format/Style Guideline]]

== Updates ==
*December 6, 2011 - Remembrances for a Certain Pilot project completed.
*December 10, 2011 - Project page created.

==''To Aru Hikūshi e no Tsuioku'' by Inumura Koroku ([[Remembrances for a Certain Pilot:Full|Full Text]] - [http://www.mediafire.com/?6r6269u9p688egy PDF] - [http://www.baka-tsuki.org/forums/viewtopic.php?f=44&t=4959 ePUB/MOBI])==
*[[Remembrances for a Certain Pilot:Illustrations|Novel Illustrations]]
*[[Remembrances for a Certain Pilot:Preview|Preview]]
*[[Remembrances for a Certain Pilot:Prologue|Prologue]]
*[[Remembrances for a Certain Pilot:Chapter1|Chapter 1]]
*[[Remembrances for a Certain Pilot:Chapter2|Chapter 2]]
*[[Remembrances for a Certain Pilot:Chapter3|Chapter 3]]
*[[Remembrances for a Certain Pilot:Chapter4|Chapter 4]]
*[[Remembrances for a Certain Pilot:Chapter5|Chapter 5]]
*[[Remembrances for a Certain Pilot:Chapter6|Chapter 6]]
*[[Remembrances for a Certain Pilot:Chapter7|Chapter 7]]
*[[Remembrances for a Certain Pilot:Chapter8|Chapter 8]]
*[[Remembrances for a Certain Pilot:Chapter9|Chapter 9]]
*[[Remembrances for a Certain Pilot:Chapter10|Chapter 10]]
*[[Remembrances for a Certain Pilot:Chapter11|Chapter 11]]
*[[Remembrances for a Certain Pilot:Epilogue|Epilogue]]

==Project Staff==
===Translator===
::*[http://mazuisubs.com/180 Mazuisubs] (taken with permission)

==Series Overview==
* ある飛空士への追憶 / To Aru Hikūshi e no Tsuioku (19 Feb 2008, ISBN 978-4-09-451052-2)

[[Category:Completed Project]]
[[Category:Hosted Projects]]
[[Category:Oneshot]]
[[Category:Light novel (English)]]

==Read Order==
*1. [https://www.baka-tsuki.org/project/index.php?title=Remembrances_for_a_certain_pilot To Aru Hikuushi e no Tsuioku]
*2. [https://www.baka-tsuki.org/project/index.php?title=Toaru_Hikuushi_e_no_Yasoukyoku To Aru Hikuushi e no Yasoukyoku]
*3. [https://www.baka-tsuki.org/project/index.php?title=Toaru_Hikuushi_e_no_Koiuta To Aru Hikuushi e no Koiuta]
*4. [https://www.baka-tsuki.org/project/index.php?title=Toaru_Hikuushi_e_no_Seiyaku To Aru Hikuushi e no Seiyaku]

==Related Series==
* とある飛空士への誓約 / Toaru Hikuushi e no Seiyaku [https://www.baka-tsuki.org/project/index.php?title=Toaru_Hikuushi_e_no_Seiyaku Overview Series] (Sequel)
* とある飛空士への恋歌 / Toaru Hikuushi e no Koiuta [https://www.baka-tsuki.org/project/index.php?title=Toaru_Hikuushi_e_no_Koiuta Overview Series] (Sequel)
* とある飛空士への夜想曲 / Toaru Hikuushi e no Yasoukyoku [https://www.baka-tsuki.org/project/index.php?title=Toaru_Hikuushi_e_no_Yasoukyoku Overview Series] (Sequel)

Toaru Hikuushi e no Yasoukyoku

2025-01-17T00:30:02Z

QCore: /* Updates */

[[File:Vol1.png|thumb]]
The ''A Certain Pilot's Nocturne'' series is available in the following languages:
*[[English]]

'''''A Certain Pilot's Nocturne / Toaru Hikuushi e no Yasoukyoku (とある飛空士への夜想曲)''''' is a light novel series written by Inumura Koroku and illustrated by Morisawa Haruyuki.

==Story Synopsis==
A Certain Pilot's Nocturne centers on Takeo Chijiwa, a highly skilled but rebellious ace pilot in the Amatsukami Navy. Raised in harsh conditions on a desolate coal-mining island, Chijiwa's tough upbringing shaped his formidable nature. By the time he's 22, he's a feared fighter pilot with 69 confirmed kills, known as a prodigy of aerial combat, despite his disregard for military discipline. The story follows Takeo as he fights his rival in the skies, the Seagull (Charles Karino)

== Translation ==
===Format Standards===
'''Every Chapter (after editing) must conform to the general format guidelines.'''
*[[Format_guideline|General Format/Style Guideline]]

== Updates ==
*Page created 14/10/24
*Completed 10/1/25

==''To Aru Hikūshi e no Yasoukyoku'' by Inumura Koroku==
*Volume 1 - [https://drive.google.com/file/d/1Hg9ghe7EPO75t1-7EjdXHrgx8WPX_RVU/view?usp=sharing EPUB/PDF] (ISBN 978-4-09-451285-4)
::[[Toaru Hikuushi e no Yasoukyoku:Prologue|Prologue]]
::[[Toaru Hikuushi e no Yasoukyoku:Chapter1|Chapter 1]]
::[[Toaru Hikuushi e no Yasoukyoku:Chapter2|Chapter 2]]
*Volume 2 - [https://drive.google.com/file/d/1bS58GA60-kXNSB0vLh6pXbdqoI6aVjA2/view?usp=sharing EPUB/PDF] (ISBN 978-4-09-451298-4)
::[[Toaru Hikuushi e no Yasoukyoku:Chapter3|Chapter 3]]
::[[Toaru Hikuushi e no Yasoukyoku:Chapter4|Chapter 4]]
::[[Toaru Hikuushi e no Yasoukyoku:Epilogue|Epilogue]]

==Project Staff==
===Translator===
::*Anon

==Series Overview==
* とある飛空士への夜想曲 / To Aru Hikūshi e no Yasoukyoku

==Read Order==
*1. [https://www.baka-tsuki.org/project/index.php?title=Remembrances_for_a_certain_pilot To Aru Hikuushi e no Tsuioku]
*2. [https://www.baka-tsuki.org/project/index.php?title=Toaru_Hikuushi_e_no_Yasoukyoku To Aru Hikuushi e no Yasoukyoku]
*3. [https://www.baka-tsuki.org/project/index.php?title=Toaru_Hikuushi_e_no_Koiuta To Aru Hikuushi e no Koiuta]
*4. [https://www.baka-tsuki.org/project/index.php?title=Toaru_Hikuushi_e_no_Seiyaku To Aru Hikuushi e no Seiyaku]

==Related Series==
* ある飛空士への追憶 / To Aru Hikūshi e no Tsuioku [https://www.baka-tsuki.org/project/index.php?title=Remembrances_for_a_certain_pilot Overview Series] (Prequel)
* とある飛空士への恋歌 / To Aru Hikuushi e no Koiuta [https://www.baka-tsuki.org/project/index.php?title=Toaru_Hikuushi_e_no_Koiuta Overview Series] (Sequel)
* とある飛空士への誓約 / To Aru Hikuushi e no Seiyaku [https://www.baka-tsuki.org/project/index.php?title=Toaru_Hikuushi_e_no_Seiyaku Overview Series] (Sequel)

Toaru Hikuushi e no Seiyaku:V9Part13

2025-01-16T01:50:20Z

QCore:

Final: Toward the Promised Sky (Part 13 of Volume 9)

Children's laughter was being absorbed into the blue sky.

Beyond the horizon, with a deep summer sky like an oil painting as the backdrop, a cumulus cloud, its top likely exceeding 10,000 meters, sharply outlined the boundary between the brilliant blue and the bright white cloud with vivid clarity.

The wind blowing over the hill made the green rise and fall like waves, with the sunlight sparkling on the reflections, throwing silver splashes toward the blue sky. Amid this vividly coloured landscape, there was a small house, its weather vane exposed to the sea breeze.

"We're back..."

Kiyoaki stretched his arms up toward the summer sky, inhaling the familiar air of his homeland, Messus Island, Odessa, with all his might. Although the place he'd been living until recently, Santos Island, Sierra Greed, was nice, the sea breeze of his homeland was something special.

Looking behind him, the rolling green fields stretched as far as the eye could see, dotted with trees here and there, and beyond them, the gray ridges of mountains. Looking back to the front, there was a fan-shaped white beach and their white home in front of the bright blue horizon and the towering clouds. The expansive, unobstructed view made him want to shout from the bottom of his stomach.

Come to think of it, it was twenty-two summers ago that Messus Island was suddenly attacked by Urano, and Kiyoaki’s family was killed. Today, Kiyoaki had returned to the island and was about to start a new life.

Messus Island now had a population of 16,000 and was a proud, independent country with its own king. If it were still a colonial island of the Akitsu Federation, Kiyoaki, with his history of desertion, wouldn't have been able to return. However, in the confusion of the Federation's collapse, Messus Island became an independent nation, allowing him to safely return home and visit his family's graves.

On the slope of the mountain, the vineyard, which he had bought back, basked in the sunlight. It was once owned by Kiyoaki’s father, Masaharu. Most of the royalties from Kiyoaki's book The Promise, published last year, were donated to the citizens who had suffered war damage in Pleiades, but the remainder was used to buy back this second-hand house and his family’s vineyard. From now on, he intended to live peacefully in his hometown, working the vineyard.

"At that time, I didn’t particularly want to save the world. I just wanted to keep the promise I had made to her, who had disappeared.

Even though she had gone so far away that we could no longer exchange words, I knew that if I broke that promise, it would make her sad.

So, the image of me being portrayed as a saintly figure who sacrificed himself for the world is wrong. In reality, I prioritized my personal feelings above everything else, dragging hundreds of thousands of people into battle, causing death and injury, making me a great sinner.

As a result, our actions eventually led to what’s known as the 'Miracle of Pleiades,' as you all know. However, the portrayal of the seven of us in the news and related books is far from the truth.

First of all, out of the seven, it’s not five heroes and two traitors.

Whenever those two are called 'traitors,' it feels like my heart is bleeding. Please understand that.

Labelling them as 'villains' to create a simple good-versus-evil narrative with the five of us as 'heroes' is inaccurate. All seven of us were just ordinary people, with both good and bad in us. The only difference was the circumstances we were born into and the events that unfolded after we met.

In terms of loyalty to the state, what those two did was certainly unforgivable and might have made them traitors who pushed their comrades into hell. But at that time, in those circumstances, they had no choice.

And even though they had no choice, those two still kept their promises. They held onto promises that no one knew about, promises that brought them no benefit, all while being branded as traitors and pelted with stones.

It's been over ten years since then, but I’m speaking up now because if I don’t, the false image of them as traitors will be passed down to future generations. If you’ve listened to my story until the end, I believe you’ll understand that we five were no saints, and those two were not villains…."

The content of The Promise, which began with such a preface, wasn’t the thrilling adventure story of the "Miracle of Pleiades" that many readers had expected. Instead, much of it was a confession of guilt and remorse for the hundreds of thousands of soldiers and civilians on both sides who died or were injured during "Operation Odin's Spear." Additionally, much of it defended Mio Syra and Reiner Beck, who were labelled as "traitors" in the many islands.

While the two certainly committed crimes, they had no other options. And without them, the "Miracle of Pleiades" wouldn’t have happened. Mio used Fio to reveal Pleiades’ location, and Reiner captured Illustriali, the enemy commander, and Zenon, the chief of the Chrono Magos. Both played crucial roles in changing the world. The "Seven of Eriadore" were not five heroes and two traitors. They were just ordinary young people who never gave up on their promises, despite being on opposing sides.

Kiyoaki's claims in his confession were not entirely welcomed.

Some of the leaders of the Multi-Island Sea's military declared that they would never forgive Mio and Reiner, while the bereaved families of those killed in the Urano air raids on Air Hunt Island sent a joint letter of protest to Kiyoaki. There was also backlash within the Kingdom of Sylvania, which escalated to a point where it became a burden for Elisabeth. This led to Kiyoaki resigning from his position as a flight instructor in the Royal Army and returning to his homeland.

Since the book’s publication, it had been a turbulent time with no peace of mind, but today marked the beginning of a new life. Kiyoaki looked up at his hometown's summer sky, hoping the children on the island would grow up healthy, surrounded by nature.

And maybe—.

Maybe Mio and Reiner, somewhere in this world, would pick up Kiyoaki's book and read it. He held onto that hope somewhere deep in his heart. And if he allowed himself to dream further, it wasn't impossible that they might secretly reach out to him. Someday, the seven of Eriadore might meet again. Kiyoaki still clung to that dream.

Imperial Year 1367, July, Messus Island, Odessa—.

"Kiyoaki! You’ve got a ton of mail!"

Receiving the deliveries from the bicycle courier, Illia, who had been preparing lunch in the garden of their new home, called out. He saw about a dozen congratulatory postcards for the housewarming, delivered on the specified date. They were filled with messages from the people he had fought with in Odin and members of the Valkyrie.

Kiyoaki sat down in a newly bought deck chair from the town’s general store, moved the table into the shade of the parasol, and, listening to the gentle birdsong of Messus Island, began to read the postcards one by one.

One postcard from Selfaust, the capital of the St Vault Empire, featured a photo of a healthy-looking Lala Scott. She was now part of the Imperial Army’s acrobatics flight team, showcasing her skills at important ceremonies. Apparently, the team included none other than Cynthia, the daughter of Captain Leo, and Lala was passing on Leo’s teachings to her. Cynthia had been moved to tears when she learned how much her father had always thought of her and her mother, even on the battlefield. Surely, Leo was smiling from heaven.

From the distant Balesteros Republic, in the city of Velasquez, one postcard brought a smile to Kiyoaki’s face.

"Kal and Claire! It’s been so long… They look great, don’t they?"

The postcard, which he handed to Illia, featured a photo of Kal-el and Claire, along with their three children, and a handwritten message from Kal-el.

"Congratulations on the new chapter in your life! I’d love for you to bring your family to Velasquez someday. We’ll treat you to real Arimen, cooked by Ariel."

In one corner of the photo, a smiling red-haired woman stood beside Ignacio, likely Ariel. The thought of real Arimen… made Kiyoaki gulp, even in the middle of lunch. After returning from Pleiades, Kiyoaki had once been amazed by how delicious Claire’s Arimen was, but he had heard that even the notoriously picky King Manius of Urano still had frozen Arimen shipped from Velasquez. Kiyoaki made a mental note to visit Velasquez if the opportunity arose, eager to try such an extraordinary dish.

In the garden, Illia and their two children were busy preparing for today’s party. Kiyoaki put the postcards away in a drawer and went to help with the preparations.

"Big brother, not there! They go over here!"

Their nine-year-old daughter, Yumiko, pouted, carefully arranging potted plants in front of the entrance.

"The big one goes here! Yeah, it looks cooler here!"

Their twelve-year-old son, Masaaki, lugged a large potted plant with blooming flowers toward the centre of the garden, struggling as he walked.

"Masaaki, that’s where the table goes! Put it by the entrance!" Illia scolded him.

Masaaki, with a pained expression, turned around and staggered toward the entrance.

Illia then turned her gaze toward the porch, her eyes widening.

"Father! The liquor!!"

Illia’s father, Karsten Kreischmidt, grasped a bottle of whiskey in his one good arm and was basking in the sun, drinking straight from the bottle on the porch.

"Where did you get that? The doctor said you can't drink!!"

Illia snatched the bottle from Karsten and poured what little remained onto the grass. Karsten’s anger flared.

"What are you doing?! That was a gift from my son-in-law!"

Under Illia’s glare, Kiyoaki stammered an excuse.

"Uh, well… yes, sorry, but… Father-in-law said the doctor gave him permission, so…"

"Father is permanently banned from alcohol! You know what happens when he drinks!! He taught Masaaki something unnecessary the other day...!"

Karsten hung his head in defeat, but Masaaki ran over and clung to him.

"Grandpa, I can land on my own now!" "Oh? Really? Well, you’ve got talent, more than your parents!" "Yay! I’m happy! I’ll fly again later!" "No!!" "Stop that!!" "Why?!?" "Because it's dangerous!! You don’t need to fly planes!!" "Being a pilot is absolutely not allowed! It’s too dangerous!!"

Kiyoaki and Illia, as usual, firmly stopped Masaaki, who sulked. Despite their protests, however, Karsten continued to secretly teach Masaaki how to fly a biplane. In the many islands, airplanes were as common as cars, and many people used them to travel from island to island, with farm roads doubling as runways, making it easy to find places to practice.

Of course, the Sakagami family owned a biplane as well. Although Kiyoaki had been an instructor in the Sylvania Royal Army until recently, he refused to teach Masaaki how to fly. Having fought on many battlefields and escaped death countless times, he couldn’t bear the thought of his son going through the same. However, Masaaki had heard stories of his parents’ heroics during the Great War of Mitterrand from those around him, and naturally, he dreamed of flying a plane one day. Thanks to his grandfather’s instruction, he was now capable of taking off and landing a biplane by himself.

Yumiko also ran over, pleading.

"Big brother, let me ride the plane too!" "Sure!" "No!!" "Absolutely not!!" "Masaaki, tomorrow I’ll teach you how to shoot a machine gun!" "Father, stop teaching him weird things!!" "We don’t have machine guns!! They’re not necessary anymore!!"

Despite the usual commotion, the preparations for today’s housewarming party were finally complete, and all that was left was to wait for the guests to arrive.

The garden was filled with colourful flowers, both in the flowerbeds and the potted plants. Adult deck chairs and children's stools were lined up on the lawn, and a large garden table was placed in the centre, with a barbecue grill already lit. Meat and vegetables were laid out nearby, and as they looked up at the distant sky, a medium-sized airship began descending toward them.

Kiyoaki smiled, shading his eyes with his hand.

"They're here. Right on time."

The official aircraft of the Kingdom of Sylvania landed in a nearby meadow, its variable rotors roaring.

When Kiyoaki and Illia went to greet them, holding down the brim of her straw hat, Elisabeth Sylvania—here in a private capacity today—stepped out, without any attendants.

"Long time no see, Kiyoaki, Illia. Your house is so cute and wonderful!"

Elisabeth, who had worn the crown for over sixteen years, embraced Kiyoaki and Illia with the same smile she had always had. Kiyoaki returned the hug, smiling and casually thanking the great queen who had led the Kingdom of Sylvania to become the leader of the archipelago.

"I'm glad to see you, Elisabeth, even though you're busy… Is everything okay with your duties?"

"A queen has to take a break sometimes too. Today, I plan to relax and have fun, so let's enjoy it!"

Raising her hands to the bright blue sky of Messus Island, Elisabeth stretched and soaked in the sunlight with a big smile. Following her from the airship came Balthazar, Kagura, and their five children, all descending with shouts of excitement.

"Hey! You need to greet them first, greet them!!"

As Kagura scolded them, the children, ranging from thirteen-year-old Melchior to three-year-old Caspar, each greeted "Uncle Kiyoaki and Aunt Illia" in their own ways, before immediately turning and charging at Masaaki. Masaaki tried to run, but Balthazar's children moved in unison, steadily closing in on their prey.

"Christina, block the right exit!!" "Yes!!" "Use the cover, Synovios, you circle around to the back of the old house!!" "Yes!!" "Stop it!" "Finish it, Delfina!" "Take this!"

Melchior, with a sharp expression, issued instructions one after another, and the children captured the flailing Masaaki with well-coordinated movements. Five-year-old Delfina finished him off with a slap, and they brought him before Balthazar.

"Here's the spoils of war, Father." "Well done."
"‘Well done’!? What kind of education is this? And didn’t you call my house an ‘old wreck’ just now?"

As Masaaki protested, Balthazar, still wearing the same unchanging, expressionless face, glanced at the modest second-hand house and smirked in satisfaction.

"You've made progress, Melchior."

"Where is this ‘progress’ headed? You should be angry! Also, thank you for coming all the way out here."

"I came at the queen's request. Sometimes, it's nice to visit the countryside. Now sit down in seize right there."

Balthazar sat down heavily in a deck chair, ordering Masaaki to sit in seize on the lawn beside him.

"Stay like that until I say you can move." "Yes, sir."
"No, not ‘yes, sir.’ Go, Masaaki, you don't have to listen to Uncle Balthazar."

Kagura entered the garden a little later, sat down next to Balthazar, and let out a sigh.

Kiyoaki noticed something from the way Kagura walked and how she sat.

"Kagura, could it be…?"
"Yeah. The sixth one."
"Wow… Congratulations."

Kiyoaki looked at Balthazar instinctively. Balthazar glared back.

"What’s with that look?"
"Huh? Oh, nothing, no hidden meaning."
"What do you mean by ‘that look’!?"
"I just glanced at you! Why are you suddenly mad? It's good news!"

While Kiyoaki stammered his response, Illia announced the start of the party.

"I'm so happy to see everyone today! We're going to live happily on this island, so come visit anytime you're in the mood!!"

Everyone clinked their glasses in a toast, laying out the meat and vegetables on the grill. The lively laughter of children filled the air as they chatted, enjoying endless conversations.

It had been a long time since all five had gathered.

Balthazar and Kagura's business, The Purple Flower Company, had continued to grow through meticulous market analysis and bold sales strategies. Both of them were incredibly busy. Balthazar, the company president, was known in the industry as the "Venus Flytrap of the flower business," constantly acquiring and merging with rival stores. He was hated by competitors, much to Kagura's dismay.

"I keep saying I just want a small flower shop in town…"
"They were the ones who attacked first. Once you're in, you have to go all the way. There's no turning back now."
"Honestly… It's like we have no friends left in the industry…"

Kagura’s bitter remarks made Kiyoaki and Illia exchange wry smiles. Balthazar hadn’t changed much, even after leaving the military, but surrounded by so many children, Kagura looked truly happy.

"Elisabeth, what about marriage?"

Illia’s straightforward question made Elisabeth shake her head.

"Everyone keeps setting me up with nobles, but… it’s such a hassle."

"You’ve got a lot on your plate because of your position. What about the rumours with Manius?"

"We’re just friends. I saw him a couple of days ago when Pleiades came to the archipelago, but we just had a drink like always."

"Really? I thought you two seemed like a good match…"

Manius, now the King of Urano, had demonstrated remarkable leadership, shifting Urano’s once-isolationist policies to an open, trade-oriented approach. The heavens and the earth had signed trade agreements, and Urano leveraged its position as a "mobile" city to create significant trade surpluses. With the ability to move its entire living area, it had a distinct advantage in long-distance trade, allowing Urano to flourish even more than before the war. Cultural exchanges and mutual understanding between Urano and the rest of the world had progressed dramatically.

The royal capital, Pleiades, frequently visited the archipelago, spending several months at a time around Santos Island. Many people hoped for a romance between Manius and Elisabeth, connecting heaven and earth in a legendary love story, but the two seemed to see each other as drinking buddies.

Two hours into the party, the liveliness only increased. Masaaki and Yumiko, along with Balthazar's five children, continued to shout and play a game of territory capture, showing no signs of fatigue as they ran around.

Just then, Kiyoaki noticed a motorbike approaching from a distance. It slowly made its way along the grassy path over the rolling hills.

As soon as Kiyoaki realized who it was, his expression darkened.

"Oh no… I didn’t invite her. What’s she doing here?"

The woman who got off the motorbike was in her forties, dressed in a suit and wearing glasses. Illia went to greet her.

"Hello, Utakuni. What brings you here so suddenly?"

"Sorry for the unexpected visit. Something urgent came up."

Tokiwa Utakuni, a former journalist for the Akitsu Daily and now working in the literary publishing department, barely greeted anyone before standing in front of Kiyoaki. She had written numerous sensational articles about his relationship with Illia in the past and had recently continued to publish books that used Kiyoaki’s story to draw public attention.

"There won’t be a second book. We agreed it would only be one."

Kiyoaki firmly stated this to get ahead of her, and Utakuni’s expression turned serious. His book, The Promise, had been written only after persistent pressure from her, and while Kiyoaki hadn’t originally planned to write anything, he was eventually persuaded by the argument that it would restore Mio and Reiner’s honour. The book had been well-received, despite some criticism, and had gone through multiple reprints. Utakuni clearly hoped to capitalize on that success again.

"Please don’t say that. I brought a proposal I’d love for you to look at."

"I’m not a writer. I have nothing more to say."

Kiyoaki answered curtly, but Utakuni cleared her throat and straightened her posture before pulling a proposal out of her shoulder bag.

"You won’t have to write anything. All you need to do is participate in a roundtable discussion, and I’ll handle the rest. Please, at least take a look at the proposal."

Kiyoaki sighed. He couldn’t just send her away after she’d come all this way, so he reluctantly took the paper. The title read:

"The Seven of Eriadore Speak: The Miracle of Pleiades Roundtable Discussion"

Kiyoaki let out another sigh. Scratching the back of his head, he gave Utakuni a distant look.

"What is this? Who exactly is supposed to be having this discussion?"

"It’s a roundtable discussion with the seven of you from Eriadore. We’ll turn it into a book. It’s guaranteed to be a hit."

Does this woman live in a dream world? Kiyoaki couldn’t help but feel exasperated.

"Um… You say we’re all going to gather, but when and where are we supposed to do that?"

Utakuni answered with a completely serious expression.

"Here, today. That’s why I brought the recording equipment."

She pulled a small recorder and a microphone from her bag. Kiyoaki stared at her in silence for a moment, then turned and counted the people in the garden. There were five of them. He raised his hand and pointed them out to Utakuni, just to confirm her understanding.

"Look, there’s Elisabeth, Balthazar, Kagura, Illia, and me… Five people, right? You can count, can’t you?"

Kiyoaki asked, genuinely questioning if her brain was functioning properly.

Just then, the distant sound of rotors reached them from the sky.

Utakuni looked Kiyoaki squarely in the eye and responded.

"A good journalist needs superior initiative and research skills."

Ignoring Utakuni’s words, Kiyoaki looked up at the sky. An old-fashioned small airship was descending toward them.

"To make this roundtable a reality, all I had to do was find the two missing members and convince them to come. Convincing them took time and patience, but it worked."

The adults in the garden noticed the approaching airship and looked up. Utakuni’s voice was drowned out by the sound of the rotors.

"Even with my skills, tracking them down was a huge challenge. But two months ago, I finally found them living on a remote island in the northern part of Mitterrand. After many discussions, I persuaded them. What sealed the deal was The Promise. They both read your book and understood your current feelings."

The airship landed about two hundred meters away on flat ground.

The wind stirred the grass.

Illia looked over curiously. Elisabeth stood up. Kagura, sensing something, turned to look as well.

"Still, they were reluctant to leave due to their guilt. So, with all due respect, I took the liberty of mentioning the other promise you all made. I reminded them that while you had published the book and lost your job for their honour, they hadn’t done anything for you. ‘Even if we become enemies, we will not hate each other. Friendship is eternal…’ I told them they needed to honour that promise to all five of you. Those words finally convinced them."

The rotors stopped, and the hatch of the airship opened.

Two figures, a man and a woman, stepped out.

Seeing them from afar, Kiyoaki’s hair stood on end.

"They’ve come today to fulfill that promise and to show you that your friendship still endures."

It was already clear who they were. No matter how far apart they had been, or how much time had passed, none of that mattered.

"Oh…" Kiyoaki gasped.

"You can count, right? Here are five of you, plus Mio Syra and Reiner Beck. That makes the Seven of Eriadore, right?"

Hearing Utakuni’s words at the edge of his awareness, Kiyoaki let out an unintelligible shout. Without hesitation, he threw the proposal aside and, after a simultaneous display of gratitude and reprimand to Utakuni, ran toward the two.

Elisabeth, overhearing the conversation, noticed as well and let out a startled cry, raising her hands and running.

Illia and Kagura followed behind, calling out their names loudly as they ran.

Balthazar stood up, recognized them, and grinned.

Kiyoaki could only shout as he sprinted with all his might.

Time disappeared. All that had separated them vanished in this moment.

A gentle wind blew, carrying the scent of grass and summer flowers.

Beyond the colourful flower petals, Mio and Reiner were smiling at Kiyoaki.

Without hesitation, Kiyoaki embraced them both. Their arms wrapped around each other’s backs, and the warmth confirmed that this was no dream.

"Mio! Reiner! I can’t believe this, I can’t believe it!"

Those words burst out again and again, overflowing with emotion. Elisabeth, laughing and crying, joined the circle of joy. Illia and Kagura, both beaming with smiles, spread their arms wide and jumped in. Balthazar walked over slowly with his hands in his pockets, casually approaching the group.

Under the summer sky, cheers, tears, and laughter echoed endlessly across the fields of Messus Island.

The seven of Eriadore stood together as one, laughing to their hearts' content and wiping away each other’s tears with their sleeves.

It wasn’t a dream; it was real.

Right now, in this field, the seven of them were together again. Twenty years had passed since they broke through enemy lines in that Eriadore airship, but the promise still lived in each of their hearts.

"Even if we become enemies, we will not hate each other."

"Friendship is eternal."

The echo of that promise resonated into the midsummer sky. The seven of them continued to exchange words that couldn’t quite form, simply laughing and crying. They confirmed with embraces that they were truly together, reflecting on the passage of time in each other’s faces while recognizing the unchanging bonds that lay beneath, laughing through their tears.

Masaaki stood alone in the field, watching the adults curiously.

It seemed like someone really important had arrived, and the circle of seven didn’t seem like it would break anytime soon. The adults were completely absorbed in their reunion, leaving the children to fend for themselves. At one point, a woman with glasses and a microphone approached the group, but under the command of the ever-calm Balthazar, Melchior and the children’s squad swiftly snatched the recording equipment from her, passing it around like a well-coordinated team. The bespectacled woman now sat alone on the beach, hugging her knees and staring off into the distance.

Then, Masaaki noticed someone looking at him.

A girl in a white blouse and red skirt was staring intently at him.

The moment their eyes met, Masaaki's heart pounded loudly in his chest.

Her pale skin, emerald-green eyes, and white hairband stood out. Her shoulder-length blonde hair curled up at the ends, reflecting the sunlight.

The girl suddenly spoke.

"You. You’re going to be my friend."

Masaaki was too stunned to respond. "Huh?" was all he could manage.

"From today, you’re my friend. Unless you want to be my servant, but I thought starting as my servant might be a bit harsh."

What is this girl talking about?

"Um… who are you?" Masaaki asked, still confused.

"Before you ask someone’s name, you should introduce yourself first."

She was incredibly self-centred. Feeling a little overwhelmed, Masaaki introduced himself.

"Sakagami Masaaki… I’m twelve. And you?"

The girl puffed out her chest proudly.

"Fio Belour."

Her emerald eyes gleamed as she continued with an air of superiority.

"I’m ten. I’ve decided you’re going to be my servant."

Fio, the girl, stood with her hands on her hips, exuding confidence. Masaaki thought she might be the kind of person to avoid, but his heart kept racing for some reason.

He didn’t know her, yet she felt familiar. He wanted to get closer to her, to know more about her… His heart kept chirping like a bird, unable to quiet down.

"So, what are you going to do to entertain me?"

Her demands were absurd, but Masaaki thought carefully, then looked up.

"How about we ride the biplane together? Flying is fun."

Fio, satisfied with the suggestion, smirked with a look of triumph.

Sitting in a circle in the field, Kiyoaki and the others were chatting endlessly, with plenty of food and drinks piled in the centre. Suddenly, the familiar sound of an engine caught Kiyoaki’s ear.

Standing up, he gazed toward the private biplane parked near the beach. Squinting, he could see Masaaki in the cockpit, holding the hand of an unfamiliar girl, about to lift her into his arms.

He was wearing platform shoes again and preparing to fly the plane. Realizing this, Kiyoaki yelled out.

"Hey!! You can’t fly that by yourself, Masaaki!!"

But Masaaki ignored the shout and began taxiing for take-off. Next to Kiyoaki, Mio stood up in surprise.

"Fio!? What are you doing?! That’s dangerous!"

"Wait, is that your daughter?!"

"Stop! Please, don’t fly!!"

Kiyoaki and Mio ran side by side, chasing the biplane across the field in a panic.

But Masaaki, holding Fio in his arms, paid no attention to his parents' shouts, accelerating and smoothly lifting off into the sky.

"Ahhh!! Masaaki!! No dinner for you tonight!!"

Kiyoaki raised his arm, yelling at the departing biplane, but the only response was the distant sound of the propeller.

"They… they really flew away…" Mio muttered, sitting down on the beach in disbelief.

In the distance, a large cumulus cloud hovered over the horizon. The biplane was heading straight for it.

"I keep telling him no flying, but he never listens…"

Kiyoaki shrugged and looked down at Mio.

Mio frowned, looking up at Kiyoaki.

"Your son moves a little too fast, don’t you think?"

Kiyoaki could only stammer out an apology. He hadn’t expected Masaaki to be bold enough to take off with a girl he had just met.

"…Sorry. I haven’t been strict enough with him… yeah…"

Mio stared off at the distant sky, then looked back at Kiyoaki with a sigh.

"…I wonder who he takes after."

Kiyoaki pursed his lips. He couldn’t help but remember the time, years ago on this very island, when he had flown off in a biplane with a crying Mio.

"I can’t imagine who."

Kiyoaki extended a hand to Mio.

"It’s you," she said, taking his hand and standing up, brushing the sand off her clothes.

Their eyes met, and they both burst into laughter.

The sound of their laughter rose into the sky.

Kiyoaki and Mio stood side by side, laughing together under the summer sky. The gentle sea breeze and the waves lapping at their feet accompanied their laughter like a melody. It was as if they had been spending every day together, all this time.

At 300 meters altitude.

Masaaki’s heart was pounding as he gripped the control stick. Fio, sitting in his lap, spoke nervously.

"Are you sure we’re not going to crash?"

"It’s fine. I’ve practiced a lot with Grandpa, trust me…"

Suddenly, a large cloud appeared right in front of them.

"Whoa!"
"Ahhh!"

With a whoosh, they plunged into the cloud. Everything around them turned white, and they couldn’t see a thing.

"We’re getting wet!"
"Hold on, we’ll be out soon…"

Masaaki gripped the control stick tightly, pushing down his fear. His grandpa had told him: "Even in a cloud, don’t panic. Keep your attitude steady. Watch the horizon and make sure your wings are level…"

"I can’t see anything!" Fio said, her voice almost in tears. Masaaki, wanting to reassure her, put on a calm front.

"It’s okay. Trust me."
"Okay…"
"It’s really okay… look!"

Suddenly, light poured in around them. The sky opened up in brilliant blue.

"Wow, it’s beautiful!"

Fio’s expression brightened. Far below, the cobalt-blue ocean stretched out, with green islands scattered like jewels. Coral reefs surrounded the islands, and dolphins, swimming in formation, left white trails in the sea.

Ahead of them was the summer sky.

A massive cumulus cloud loomed close, so large it seemed to hum with energy. Its peak was so high they couldn’t see the top, and the deep blue sky beyond it stretched out endlessly.

It was breathtakingly beautiful, but also terrifying. The vastness of the sky and the enormity of the clouds hinted at forces beyond their understanding, things both unknown and potentially merciless.

The wind picked up, causing the windscreen to rattle. Fio instinctively wrapped her arms around Masaaki’s neck.

"Are you scared? Do you want to go back?"

Masaaki asked. Fio pouted and replied firmly.

"I’m not scared! I mean… I’m not because you’re with me…"

Her face flushed bright red as she said it. Masaaki smiled, feeling happy.

"Yeah, me too! It’s weird, but when I’m with you, I’m not scared at all!"

His honest feelings spilled out into words.

Fio clung to Masaaki again, looking out at the cloud peaks and the blue beyond.

She was still a little scared, but at the same time, her heart was filled with excitement.

What lay beyond those clouds? What wonderful things awaited in the depths of that blue? If they spread their wings with courage, they might reach something truly amazing. They might feel even more of this excitement and wonder.

"Let’s fly! Oh, um… I mean… we’ll fly! Together!"

Fio, in a strange tone, raised her hand in a triumphant pose. Masaaki, thinking she was a bit odd, copied her and repeated her words.

"Let’s fly, yeah!"

"Yeah! As far as we can go!"

The two of them looked at each other and burst out laughing.

Masaaki opened the throttle. With her by his side, he felt like he could go anywhere. He could fly as far as he wanted. This baseless sense of possibility made his heart race with excitement.

Courage welled up inside him. He could become stronger, fly higher than ever before. He would soar beyond the approaching clouds, further and further into the boundless sky, to discover the true nature of that great something calling to him from deep within the infinite blue.

Together with Fio, they would embark on an adventure into the unknown. His heart throbbed with anticipation. No matter what happened, he knew they could overcome it, as long as they were together.

The propeller roared, and the biplane ascended higher. The children held hands, their innocent smiles lifted toward the sky, entrusting their wings of courage to the wind. The limitless summer sky welcomed them, while the water, wind, and light danced around them in celebration.

The wings were soon swallowed by the blue, and only a pure song echoed in the sky. It was the song of countless lives, a melody that had been sung since the beginning of the world and would continue until its end. Embracing all living things, the summer sky sang its song of courage and hope forever and ever.

'''The End'''.

[[File:Goodbye.jpg|thumb]]
 

Thank you for reading

Koroku Inumura / Haruyuki Morisawa.

 

References:

The Rising Sun in the Pacific—From Pearl Harbor to Midway (Volumes 1 & 2) by Ian Toll, translated by Kazuhisa Murakami, Bungeishunju
D-Day: The Battle for Normandy (Volumes 1 & 2) by Antony Beevor, translated by Hideaki Hiraga, Hakusuisha
Berlin: The Downfall 1945 by Antony Beevor, translated by Hikaru Kawakami, Hakusuisha
The Jet Fighter Me 262—The Last Glimmer of the German Luftwaffe by Yoji Watanabe, Kojinsha NF Bunko
German Jet Aces of World War II by Hugh Morgan and John Weal, Dainippon Kaiga

 

Koroku Inumura.

With this volume, the 'To a Certain Airship' Pilot series comes to a close. Over the course of 17 books and 7 years and 9 months, I was able to complete this journey. My deepest thanks go to Haruyuki Morisawa, for running alongside me all the way. To former editor Y. Asa and G. Shiken, and current editor N. Mura. Above all, I owe everything to you, the readers. I am currently planning a new series with Gagaga Bunko, so I look forward to meeting you all again in the future!

Toaru Hikuushi e no Seiyaku

2025-01-14T00:19:19Z

QCore:

[[File:Volume 9 Cover Page.jpg|thumb]]
The ''A Certain Pilot's Promise'' series is available in the following languages:
*[https://www.baka-tsuki.org/project/index.php?title=Toaru_Hikuushi_e_no_Seiyaku English]

'''''A Certain Pilot's Promise / Toaru Hikuushi e no Seiyaku (とある飛空士への誓約)''''' is a light novel series written by Inumura Koroku and illustrated by Morisawa Haruyuki.

==Story Synopsis==
Seven students from different backgrounds join together to travel across the Multi Island sea to the Air Hunt Officer academy. This Journey starts the friendships which will last a lifetime, and remains intact even when the nations of the Multi island Archipelago begin to battle and tear them apart. "Even if we become enemies, we will not hate each other... Friendship is eternal"
Characters from each of the previous 3 light novel series join forces to take down the Sky Clan

== Translation ==
===Format Standards===
'''Every Chapter (after editing) must conform to the general format guidelines.'''
*[[Format_guideline|General Format/Style Guideline]]

== Updates ==
*October 10 2024 - Initial Volume being translated.
*January 14 2025 - Series completed

==''To Aru Hikūshi e no Seiyaku'' by Inumura Koroku==
[[File:CoverVol1.png|thumb]]
::*A Certain Pilot's Promise Volume 1 ([[A Certain Pilot's Promise, Vol. 1|Full Text]]) - [https://drive.google.com/file/d/1TkgyrvXqLIkZka5hqmKl8GPwKkYkRSVd/view?usp=sharing PDF/EPUB] (ISBN978-4-09-451364-6)
::[[Toaru Hikuushi e no Seiyaku:Preface|Preface]]
::[[Toaru Hikuushi e no Seiyaku:Part1|Part 1]]
::[[Toaru Hikuushi e no Seiyaku:Part2|Part 2]]
::[[Toaru Hikuushi e no Seiyaku:Part3|Part 3]]
::[[Toaru Hikuushi e no Seiyaku:Part4|Part 4]]
::[[Toaru Hikuushi e no Seiyaku:Part5|Part 5]]
::[[Toaru Hikuushi e no Seiyaku:Part6|Part 6]]
::[[Toaru Hikuushi e no Seiyaku:Part7|Part 7]]
::[[Toaru Hikuushi e no Seiyaku:Part8|Part 8]]
::[[Toaru Hikuushi e no Seiyaku:Part9|Part 9]]
::[[Toaru Hikuushi e no Seiyaku:Part10|Part 10]]
::[[Toaru Hikuushi e no Seiyaku:Part11|Part 11]]
::[[Toaru Hikuushi e no Seiyaku:Part12|Part 12]]

 

[[File:Vol2Cover.png|thumb]]
::*A Certain Pilot's Promise Volume 2 ([[A Certain Pilot's Promise, Vol. 2|Full Text]]) - [https://drive.google.com/file/d/1MNDfwPIkBPZaOeDuUCRfTXTvz1hTDnOB/view?usp=sharing PDF/EPUB] (ISBN978-4-09-451396-7)
::[[Toaru Hikuushi e no Seiyaku:V2Preface|Preface]]
::[[Toaru Hikuushi e no Seiyaku:V2Part1|Part 1]]
::[[Toaru Hikuushi e no Seiyaku:V2Part2|Part 2]]
::[[Toaru Hikuushi e no Seiyaku:V2Part3|Part 3]]
::[[Toaru Hikuushi e no Seiyaku:V2Part4|Part 4]]
::[[Toaru Hikuushi e no Seiyaku:V2Part5|Part 5]]
::[[Toaru Hikuushi e no Seiyaku:V2Part6|Part 6]]
::[[Toaru Hikuushi e no Seiyaku:V2Part7|Part 7]]
::[[Toaru Hikuushi e no Seiyaku:V2Part8|Part 8]]
::[[Toaru Hikuushi e no Seiyaku:V2Part9|Part 9]]

 

[[File:Cover3.png|thumb]]
::*A Certain Pilot's Promise Volume 3 - ([[A Certain Pilot's Promise, Vol. 3|Full Text]]) [https://drive.google.com/file/d/14-7QpGMgwug-qwWvPnCTxgezVdc_mRqq/view?usp=sharing PDF/EPUB] (ISBN978-4-09-451428-5)
::[[Toaru Hikuushi e no Seiyaku:V3Preface|Preface]]
::[[Toaru Hikuushi e no Seiyaku:V3Part1|Part 1]]
::[[Toaru Hikuushi e no Seiyaku:V3Part2|Part 2]]
::[[Toaru Hikuushi e no Seiyaku:V3Part3|Part 3]]
::[[Toaru Hikuushi e no Seiyaku:V3Part4|Part 4]]
::[[Toaru Hikuushi e no Seiyaku:V3Part5|Part 5]]
::[[Toaru Hikuushi e no Seiyaku:V3Part6|Part 6]]

 

[[File:Vol4Cover.png|thumb]]
::*A Certain Pilot's Promise Volume 4 - ([[A Certain Pilot's Promise, Vol. 4|Full Text]]) [https://drive.google.com/file/d/1qSZVjC0Yaqy2CRrDOKgCwrqVIayxl4lY/view?usp=sharing PDF/EPUB] (ISBN978-4-09-451459-9)
::[[Toaru Hikuushi e no Seiyaku:V4Preface|Preface]]
::[[Toaru Hikuushi e no Seiyaku:V4Part1|Part 1]]
::[[Toaru Hikuushi e no Seiyaku:V4Part2|Part 2]]
::[[Toaru Hikuushi e no Seiyaku:V4Part3|Part 3]]
::[[Toaru Hikuushi e no Seiyaku:V4Part4|Part 4]]
::[[Toaru Hikuushi e no Seiyaku:V4Part5|Part 5]]
::[[Toaru Hikuushi e no Seiyaku:V4Part6|Part 6]]
::[[Toaru Hikuushi e no Seiyaku:V4Part7|Part 7]]

 

[[File:Vol5Covers.png|thumb]]
::*A Certain Pilot's Promise Volume 5 - ([[A Certain Pilot's Promise, Vol. 5|Full Text]]) [https://drive.google.com/file/d/1UIUE7AqSDYpT1LvvEYRFyhfGSR7OwScK/view?usp=sharing PDF/EPUB] (ISBN978-4-09-451473-5)
::[[Toaru Hikuushi e no Seiyaku:V5Preface|Preface]]
::[[Toaru Hikuushi e no Seiyaku:V5Part1|Part 1]]
::[[Toaru Hikuushi e no Seiyaku:V5Part2|Part 2]]
::[[Toaru Hikuushi e no Seiyaku:V5Part3|Part 3]]
::[[Toaru Hikuushi e no Seiyaku:V5Part5|Part 4]]
::[[Toaru Hikuushi e no Seiyaku:V5Part6|Part 5]]
::[[Toaru Hikuushi e no Seiyaku:V5Part7|Part 6]]
::[[Toaru Hikuushi e no Seiyaku:V5Part8|Part 7]]

 

[[File:Vol6Cover.jpg|thumb]]
::*A Certain Pilot's Promise Volume 6 - ([[A Certain Pilot's Promise, Vol. 6|Full Text]]) [https://drive.google.com/file/d/1DucTBtgzbO6bKJdnHVtWDoOvOmM5Zg80/view?usp=sharing PDF/EPUB] (ISBN978-4-09-451506-0)
::[[Toaru Hikuushi e no Seiyaku:V6Preface|Preface]]
::[[Toaru Hikuushi e no Seiyaku:V6Part1|Part 1]]
::[[Toaru Hikuushi e no Seiyaku:V6Part2|Part 2]]
::[[Toaru Hikuushi e no Seiyaku:V6Part3|Part 3]]
::[[Toaru Hikuushi e no Seiyaku:V6Part4|Part 4]]
::[[Toaru Hikuushi e no Seiyaku:V6Part5|Part 5]]
::[[Toaru Hikuushi e no Seiyaku:V6Part6|Part 6]]
::[[Toaru Hikuushi e no Seiyaku:V6Part7|Part 7]]
::[[Toaru Hikuushi e no Seiyaku:V6Part8|Part 8]]
::[[Toaru Hikuushi e no Seiyaku:V6Part9|Part 9]]
::[[Toaru Hikuushi e no Seiyaku:V6Part10|Part 10]]
::[[Toaru Hikuushi e no Seiyaku:V6Part11|Part 11]]

 

[[File:Vol7Cover.jpg|thumb]]
::*A Certain Pilot's Promise Volume 7 - ([[A Certain Pilot's Promise, Vol. 7|Full Text]]) [https://drive.google.com/file/d/1Ve2hBdSxfppjTJXOIcITZLUcwXrNrZYH/view?usp=sharing PDF/EPUB] (ISBN978-4-09-451531-0)
::[[Toaru Hikuushi e no Seiyaku:V7Preface|Preface]]
::[[Toaru Hikuushi e no Seiyaku:V7Part1|Part 1]]
::[[Toaru Hikuushi e no Seiyaku:V7Part2|Part 2]]
::[[Toaru Hikuushi e no Seiyaku:V7Part3|Part 3]]
::[[Toaru Hikuushi e no Seiyaku:V7Part4|Part 4]]
::[[Toaru Hikuushi e no Seiyaku:V7Part5|Part 5]]
::[[Toaru Hikuushi e no Seiyaku:V7Part6|Part 6]]
::[[Toaru Hikuushi e no Seiyaku:V7Part7|Part 7]]
::[[Toaru Hikuushi e no Seiyaku:V7Part8|Part 8]]
::[[Toaru Hikuushi e no Seiyaku:V7Part9|Part 9]]

 

[[File:Vol8Cover.jpg|thumb]]
::*A Certain Pilot's Promise Volume 8 - ([[A Certain Pilot's Promise, Vol. 8|Full Text]]) [https://drive.google.com/file/d/1mFQvwhc7UQWThpS5PESl4RG4xCZjvo10/view?usp=sharing PDF/EPUB] (ISBN978-4-09-451556-5)
::[[Toaru Hikuushi e no Seiyaku:V8Preface|Preface]]
::[[Toaru Hikuushi e no Seiyaku:V8Part1|Part 1]]
::[[Toaru Hikuushi e no Seiyaku:V8Part2|Part 2]]
::[[Toaru Hikuushi e no Seiyaku:V8Part3|Part 3]]
::[[Toaru Hikuushi e no Seiyaku:V8Part4|Part 4]]
::[[Toaru Hikuushi e no Seiyaku:V8Part5|Part 5]]
::[[Toaru Hikuushi e no Seiyaku:V8Part6|Part 6]]
::[[Toaru Hikuushi e no Seiyaku:V8Part7|Part 7]]
::[[Toaru Hikuushi e no Seiyaku:V8Part8|Part 8]]
::[[Toaru Hikuushi e no Seiyaku:V8Part9|Part 9]]
 

[[File:Volume 9 Cover Page.jpg|thumb]]
::*A Certain Pilot's Promise Volume 9 - ([[A Certain Pilot's Promise, Vol. 9|Full Text]]) [https://drive.google.com/file/d/1crovhjqxU_SjeL-FsiPV3hicTm5_lV7O/view?usp=sharing PDF/EPUB] (ISBN978-4-09-451582-4)
::[[Toaru Hikuushi e no Seiyaku:V9Preface|Preface]]
::[[Toaru Hikuushi e no Seiyaku:V9Part1|Part 1]]
::[[Toaru Hikuushi e no Seiyaku:V9Part2|Part 2]]
::[[Toaru Hikuushi e no Seiyaku:V9Part3|Part 3]]
::[[Toaru Hikuushi e no Seiyaku:V9Part4|Part 4]]
::[[Toaru Hikuushi e no Seiyaku:V9Part5|Part 5]]
::[[Toaru Hikuushi e no Seiyaku:V9Part6|Part 6]]
::[[Toaru Hikuushi e no Seiyaku:V9Part7|Part 7]]
::[[Toaru Hikuushi e no Seiyaku:V9Part8|Part 8]]
::[[Toaru Hikuushi e no Seiyaku:V9Part9|Part 9]]
::[[Toaru Hikuushi e no Seiyaku:V9Part10|Part 10]]
::[[Toaru Hikuushi e no Seiyaku:V9Part11|Part 11]]
::[[Toaru Hikuushi e no Seiyaku:V9Part12|Part 12]]
::[[Toaru Hikuushi e no Seiyaku:V9Part13|Final]]
 

==Project Staff==
===Translator===
::*Anon

==Series Overview==
* とある飛空士への誓約 / To Aru Hikūshi e no Seiyaku

[[Category:Hosted Projects]]
[[Category:Light novel (English)]]

==Read Order==
*1. [https://www.baka-tsuki.org/project/index.php?title=Remembrances_for_a_certain_pilot To Aru Hikuushi e no Tsuioku]
*2. [https://www.baka-tsuki.org/project/index.php?title=Toaru_Hikuushi_e_no_Yasoukyoku To Aru Hikuushi e no Yasoukyoku]
*3. [https://www.baka-tsuki.org/project/index.php?title=Toaru_Hikuushi_e_no_Koiuta To Aru Hikuushi e no Koiuta]
*4. [https://www.baka-tsuki.org/project/index.php?title=Toaru_Hikuushi_e_no_Seiyaku To Aru Hikuushi e no Seiyaku]

==Related Series==
* とある飛空士への追憶 / To Aru Hikūshi e no Tsuioku [https://www.baka-tsuki.org/project/index.php?title=Remembrances_for_a_certain_pilot Overview Series] (Prequel)
* とある飛空士への恋歌 / To Aru Hikūshi e no Koiuta [https://www.baka-tsuki.org/project/index.php?title=Toaru_Hikuushi_e_no_Koiuta Overview Series] (Prequel)
* とある飛空士への夜想曲 / To Aru Hikūshi e no Yasoukyoku [https://www.baka-tsuki.org/project/index.php?title=Toaru_Hikuushi_e_no_Yasoukyoku Overview Series] (Prequel)

Toaru Hikuushi e no Koiuta

2025-01-14T00:18:10Z

QCore: /* Updates */

[[Image:Vol1Cover.png|thumb|Volume 1 Cover]]

'''''A Certain Pilot's Love Song / Toaru Hikuushi e no Koiuta (とある飛空士への恋歌)''''' is a light novel series written by Inumura Koroku and illustrated by Morisawa Haruyuki.
An anime began airing on January 6, 2014.

==Story Synopsis==
This is a tale of a prince who lost everything leaves for a journey with no guarantee of returning to his hometown safely. With hatred and revenge in his mind, he met several people that taught him about friendship... and love.
(from BakaUpdates)

== Translation ==
===Format Standards===
'''Every Chapter (after editing) must conform to the general format guidelines.'''
*[[Format_guideline|General Format/Style Guideline]]

== Updates ==
*14/01/25 - Translation in progress

==''To Aru Hikūshi e no Koiuta'' by Inumura Koroku==
*Currently waiting on translations

==Project Staff==
===Translator===
::N/A

==Series Overview==
* とある飛空士への恋歌 / To Aru Hikūshi e no Koiuta

==Read Order==
*1. [https://www.baka-tsuki.org/project/index.php?title=Remembrances_for_a_certain_pilot To Aru Hikuushi e no Tsuioku]
*2. [https://www.baka-tsuki.org/project/index.php?title=Toaru_Hikuushi_e_no_Yasoukyoku To Aru Hikuushi e no Yasoukyoku]
*3. [https://www.baka-tsuki.org/project/index.php?title=Toaru_Hikuushi_e_no_Koiuta To Aru Hikuushi e no Koiuta]
*4. [https://www.baka-tsuki.org/project/index.php?title=Toaru_Hikuushi_e_no_Seiyaku To Aru Hikuushi e no Seiyaku]

==Related Series==
* とある飛空士への誓約 / To Aru Hikuushi e no Seiyaku [https://www.baka-tsuki.org/project/index.php?title=Toaru_Hikuushi_e_no_Seiyaku Overview Series] (Sequel)
* ある飛空士への追憶 / To Aru Hikūshi e no Tsuioku [https://www.baka-tsuki.org/project/index.php?title=Remembrances_for_a_certain_pilot Overview Series] (Prequel)
* とある飛空士への夜想曲 / To Aru Hikūshi e no Yasoukyoku [https://www.baka-tsuki.org/project/index.php?title=Toaru_Hikuushi_e_no_Yasoukyoku Overview Series] (Prequel)

Toaru Hikuushi e no Yasoukyoku

2025-01-13T22:28:09Z

QCore: /* Translator */

[[File:Vol1.png|thumb]]
The ''A Certain Pilot's Nocturne'' series is available in the following languages:
*[[English]]

'''''A Certain Pilot's Nocturne / Toaru Hikuushi e no Yasoukyoku (とある飛空士への夜想曲)''''' is a light novel series written by Inumura Koroku and illustrated by Morisawa Haruyuki.

==Story Synopsis==
A Certain Pilot's Nocturne centers on Takeo Chijiwa, a highly skilled but rebellious ace pilot in the Amatsukami Navy. Raised in harsh conditions on a desolate coal-mining island, Chijiwa's tough upbringing shaped his formidable nature. By the time he's 22, he's a feared fighter pilot with 69 confirmed kills, known as a prodigy of aerial combat, despite his disregard for military discipline. The story follows Takeo as he fights his rival in the skies, the Seagull (Charles Karino)

== Translation ==
===Format Standards===
'''Every Chapter (after editing) must conform to the general format guidelines.'''
*[[Format_guideline|General Format/Style Guideline]]

== Updates ==
*Page created 14/10/24

==''To Aru Hikūshi e no Yasoukyoku'' by Inumura Koroku==
*Volume 1 - [https://drive.google.com/file/d/1Hg9ghe7EPO75t1-7EjdXHrgx8WPX_RVU/view?usp=sharing EPUB/PDF] (ISBN 978-4-09-451285-4)
::[[Toaru Hikuushi e no Yasoukyoku:Prologue|Prologue]]
::[[Toaru Hikuushi e no Yasoukyoku:Chapter1|Chapter 1]]
::[[Toaru Hikuushi e no Yasoukyoku:Chapter2|Chapter 2]]
*Volume 2 - [https://drive.google.com/file/d/1bS58GA60-kXNSB0vLh6pXbdqoI6aVjA2/view?usp=sharing EPUB/PDF] (ISBN 978-4-09-451298-4)
::[[Toaru Hikuushi e no Yasoukyoku:Chapter3|Chapter 3]]
::[[Toaru Hikuushi e no Yasoukyoku:Chapter4|Chapter 4]]
::[[Toaru Hikuushi e no Yasoukyoku:Epilogue|Epilogue]]

==Project Staff==
===Translator===
::*Anon

==Series Overview==
* とある飛空士への夜想曲 / To Aru Hikūshi e no Yasoukyoku

==Read Order==
*1. [https://www.baka-tsuki.org/project/index.php?title=Remembrances_for_a_certain_pilot To Aru Hikuushi e no Tsuioku]
*2. [https://www.baka-tsuki.org/project/index.php?title=Toaru_Hikuushi_e_no_Yasoukyoku To Aru Hikuushi e no Yasoukyoku]
*3. [https://www.baka-tsuki.org/project/index.php?title=Toaru_Hikuushi_e_no_Koiuta To Aru Hikuushi e no Koiuta]
*4. [https://www.baka-tsuki.org/project/index.php?title=Toaru_Hikuushi_e_no_Seiyaku To Aru Hikuushi e no Seiyaku]

==Related Series==
* ある飛空士への追憶 / To Aru Hikūshi e no Tsuioku [https://www.baka-tsuki.org/project/index.php?title=Remembrances_for_a_certain_pilot Overview Series] (Prequel)
* とある飛空士への恋歌 / To Aru Hikuushi e no Koiuta [https://www.baka-tsuki.org/project/index.php?title=Toaru_Hikuushi_e_no_Koiuta Overview Series] (Sequel)
* とある飛空士への誓約 / To Aru Hikuushi e no Seiyaku [https://www.baka-tsuki.org/project/index.php?title=Toaru_Hikuushi_e_no_Seiyaku Overview Series] (Sequel)

Toaru Hikuushi e no Yasoukyoku

2025-01-13T22:28:01Z

QCore: /* Translator */

[[File:Vol1.png|thumb]]
The ''A Certain Pilot's Nocturne'' series is available in the following languages:
*[[English]]

'''''A Certain Pilot's Nocturne / Toaru Hikuushi e no Yasoukyoku (とある飛空士への夜想曲)''''' is a light novel series written by Inumura Koroku and illustrated by Morisawa Haruyuki.

==Story Synopsis==
A Certain Pilot's Nocturne centers on Takeo Chijiwa, a highly skilled but rebellious ace pilot in the Amatsukami Navy. Raised in harsh conditions on a desolate coal-mining island, Chijiwa's tough upbringing shaped his formidable nature. By the time he's 22, he's a feared fighter pilot with 69 confirmed kills, known as a prodigy of aerial combat, despite his disregard for military discipline. The story follows Takeo as he fights his rival in the skies, the Seagull (Charles Karino)

== Translation ==
===Format Standards===
'''Every Chapter (after editing) must conform to the general format guidelines.'''
*[[Format_guideline|General Format/Style Guideline]]

== Updates ==
*Page created 14/10/24

==''To Aru Hikūshi e no Yasoukyoku'' by Inumura Koroku==
*Volume 1 - [https://drive.google.com/file/d/1Hg9ghe7EPO75t1-7EjdXHrgx8WPX_RVU/view?usp=sharing EPUB/PDF] (ISBN 978-4-09-451285-4)
::[[Toaru Hikuushi e no Yasoukyoku:Prologue|Prologue]]
::[[Toaru Hikuushi e no Yasoukyoku:Chapter1|Chapter 1]]
::[[Toaru Hikuushi e no Yasoukyoku:Chapter2|Chapter 2]]
*Volume 2 - [https://drive.google.com/file/d/1bS58GA60-kXNSB0vLh6pXbdqoI6aVjA2/view?usp=sharing EPUB/PDF] (ISBN 978-4-09-451298-4)
::[[Toaru Hikuushi e no Yasoukyoku:Chapter3|Chapter 3]]
::[[Toaru Hikuushi e no Yasoukyoku:Chapter4|Chapter 4]]
::[[Toaru Hikuushi e no Yasoukyoku:Epilogue|Epilogue]]

==Project Staff==
===Translator===
::Anon

==Series Overview==
* とある飛空士への夜想曲 / To Aru Hikūshi e no Yasoukyoku

==Read Order==
*1. [https://www.baka-tsuki.org/project/index.php?title=Remembrances_for_a_certain_pilot To Aru Hikuushi e no Tsuioku]
*2. [https://www.baka-tsuki.org/project/index.php?title=Toaru_Hikuushi_e_no_Yasoukyoku To Aru Hikuushi e no Yasoukyoku]
*3. [https://www.baka-tsuki.org/project/index.php?title=Toaru_Hikuushi_e_no_Koiuta To Aru Hikuushi e no Koiuta]
*4. [https://www.baka-tsuki.org/project/index.php?title=Toaru_Hikuushi_e_no_Seiyaku To Aru Hikuushi e no Seiyaku]

==Related Series==
* ある飛空士への追憶 / To Aru Hikūshi e no Tsuioku [https://www.baka-tsuki.org/project/index.php?title=Remembrances_for_a_certain_pilot Overview Series] (Prequel)
* とある飛空士への恋歌 / To Aru Hikuushi e no Koiuta [https://www.baka-tsuki.org/project/index.php?title=Toaru_Hikuushi_e_no_Koiuta Overview Series] (Sequel)
* とある飛空士への誓約 / To Aru Hikuushi e no Seiyaku [https://www.baka-tsuki.org/project/index.php?title=Toaru_Hikuushi_e_no_Seiyaku Overview Series] (Sequel)

A Certain Pilot's Promise, Vol. 4

2025-01-13T00:40:54Z

QCore:

{{:Toaru Hikuushi e no Seiyaku:V4Preface}}

{{:Toaru Hikuushi e no Seiyaku:V4Part1}}

{{:Toaru Hikuushi e no Seiyaku:V4Part2}}

{{:Toaru Hikuushi e no Seiyaku:V4Part3}}

{{:Toaru Hikuushi e no Seiyaku:V4Part4}}

{{:Toaru Hikuushi e no Seiyaku:V4Part5}}

{{:Toaru Hikuushi e no Seiyaku:V4Part6}}

{{:Toaru Hikuushi e no Seiyaku:V4Part7}}

<noinclude>
{| border="1" cellpadding="5" cellspacing="0" style="margin: 1em 1em 1em 0; background: #f9f9f9; border: 1px #aaaaaa solid; padding: 0.2em; border-collapse: collapse;"
|-
| Back to [[A Certain Pilot's Promise, Vol. 3|Vol. 3]]
| Return to [[Toaru_Hikuushi_e_no_Seiyaku|Main Page]]
| Forward to [[A Certain Pilot's Promise, Vol. 5|Vol. 5]]
|-
|}
</noinclude>

User talk:PassifloraC

2025-01-13T00:40:02Z

QCore: Created page with "Volume 4 has been fixed now, thanks for notifying me."

Volume 4 has been fixed now, thanks for notifying me.

Toaru Hikuushi e no Seiyaku:V4Part5

2025-01-13T00:39:04Z

QCore:

Part 5

“In less than an hour, what had been a world of only blue was now filled with the silhouettes of steel giants. Leo’s voice came through the speaker.

"The main fleet of the archipelago forces is assembled. Quite a sight, isn’t it? The spherical formation on the eastern side is the First Air Fleet with the Raven and Hydelund, while the cubic formation on the west is the Second Assault Fleet, led by the battleships Riviere and Red Deer."

As Kiyoaki listened to Leo’s explanation, he also observed the massive assembly of the St Vault naval air force. It was indeed a sight unlike anything he’d seen before—an enormous airborne fleet, spreading vertically from 2,000 to 5,000 meters and horizontally across about five kilometres.

The First Air Fleet, which Kiyoaki and his squad were about to board, was a carrier task force. At its core were the pride of the St Vault naval air force, the regular flying aircraft carriers Raven and Hydeland, with four light carriers and four heavy cruisers positioned at the tips of each axis, while eight light cruisers and sixteen destroyers formed a spherical perimeter around the carrier group. Any enemy air force attempting to attack the Raven and Hydeland would be caught in the deep net of anti-air fire, suffering significant losses.

Behind them was the Second Fleet, an island-assault force cantered around battleships. The precise cubic formation consisted of sixteen ships in four rows, stretching from 1,000 to 5,000 meters in altitude. Two super-dreadnought flying battleships occupied the centre of the cube, heavily defended by eight heavy cruisers, four light cruisers, and two destroyers. Once the carrier task force secured air superiority, the Second Fleet’s mission was to use ship-to-ship artillery to neutralize the ground defences of the flying fortress Kalkinos and support the landing forces.

Further behind the cube formation, hundreds of flying boats and dozens of assault landing ships fitted with lift devices followed like a school of sardines. These carried nearly 50,000 ground troops waiting for the opportunity to storm the flying fortress. For their safe landing on the floating island, the Voltec Air Squadron needed to establish air superiority.

"First and Second Squadrons, land on the Raven, Third Squadron on the Hydeland," Leo commanded, leading the descent spiral toward the centre of the spherical formation.

The majestic sight of the First Air Fleet grew larger in front of the windshield.

The awe-inspiring spectacle of these massive steel giants moving in precise formation through the sky sent shivers down Kiyoaki’s spine. Was this breathtaking display of power, an angelic host in the heavens, the ultimate result of perfecting the art of death and destruction? Like the twelve angels of myth, the airborne fleet spread its wings of lift devices, solemnly welcoming the Voltec Air Squadron into their ranks.

Safely landing on the Raven at 3,500 meters, Kiyoaki and the others handed their aircraft over to the carrier’s mechanics and gathered in the ready room below deck for a briefing on the upcoming mission.

According to the Raven’s air operations officer, Uranos had already detected their movements and dispatched an airborne fleet to the area near the Great Waterfall. Kalkinos would undoubtedly come out to meet them.

"The goal of this operation is not to occupy Santos Island. It’s to annihilate the enemy’s airborne and naval forces. If the Voltec Air Squadron doesn’t secure air superiority, the mission can’t proceed. We’ll handle the direct defence of the First Fleet."

Beside the air operations officer, the Raven’s squadron leader nodded grimly. Normally, it would have been the Raven’s air squadron in charge of securing air superiority, but given the importance of this decisive battle, the elite Voltec Squadron had been selected instead. It seemed that the base air squadrons were more accustomed to air combat than their carrier counterparts. While this decision likely did not sit well with the Raven’s air squadron, the fate of the nation resting on this battle made it inevitable that St Vault’s strongest squadron would be entrusted with the critical task.

It would take about two more hours to reach the Great Waterfall, so the Voltec Squadron members were put on standby in the crew quarters.

The room quickly filled with the smell of alcohol, cigarettes, and cigars as the enlisted pilots eagerly anticipated the battle ahead, unable to hide their excitement. Everyone was fired up, eager to take off as soon as possible.

In wartime, they say the hardest thing is waiting.

Would they make it back alive? Would all their comrades return unharmed? Perhaps today would be the last day of their lives. With their adrenaline pumping and a mix of excitement and fear swirling inside them, all they could do was sit tight and wait for the encounter with the enemy fleet. Beside Kiyoaki, Kagura and Illia wore tense expressions. Only Reiner, with his usual nonchalant grin, seemed unaffected, making his usual careless remarks.

"Look, we’re just PR material. Just coming back alive is enough to make headlines. No need to push ourselves. Let’s just take it easy and come back."

Illia raised an eyebrow at his words.

"We can’t slack off. Doing so would put our allies at risk. We might be PR material, but we should give our all to achieve victory."

"Yeah, I figured you’d say that. It’s the kind of thinking that gets you killed. This is your first big air battle, so just treat it like a learning experience. No one’s expecting us to achieve great results."

"This isn’t our first sortie. We can’t just sit back and act like guests. If we mess around, the burden will fall on the rest of the squad. What exactly are we supposed to learn by leaving our comrades to die?"

"See, that’s exactly the kind of thinking that gets you killed. You, especially, Illia. You’re the type to charge in alone, get surrounded, and shot down."

"What did you say!?"

"Enough," Kagura interrupted, stopping Illia from getting any closer to Reiner. She took a deep breath, her eyes steeling with determination.

"Illia’s right that we shouldn’t slack off, and Reiner’s right that we shouldn’t push too hard. The decision is mine as the squad leader. It’s not up to you two."

She spoke with resolve, though the tension of commanding her first squadron was evident. Kiyoaki, offering his support, nodded.

"Yes. I’ll stick with you, Kagura. I won’t leave your side."

Illia, too, turned to Kagura with a serious expression.

"I was out of line. On the battlefield, I will follow your orders."

"Good. I intend to fight aggressively, but we’ll all come back alive."

"Yes!"

Kiyoaki and Illia’s voices chimed together in response.

Kiyoaki resolved within himself: Today, my role isn’t to shoot down enemies. It’s to protect Kagura as her wingman.

At that moment, an announcement echoed through the ship.

"Enemy flying fortress Kalkinos sighted! Voltec Squadron, prepare for combat!"

A cheer erupted from the squadron as the pilots rushed toward the upper deck.

"Let’s go!"

Kagura’s firm voice spurred Kiyoaki into action. He dashed out of the crew quarters and climbed the ladder to the upper deck.

Already, the escort fighters were taking off, swarming around the spherical formation like bees. In front of the bridge, thirty members of the Voltec Squadron had gathered. The Raven’s squadron leader stood before a blackboard, where he had pinned a map of the battle zone. He marked the friendly fleet’s position with white circles and the location of the enemy flying fortress, as reported by reconnaissance, with black circles.

"Approximately 350 kilometres to the northwest, just beyond the Great Waterfall, the Kalkinos is accompanied by two regular carriers, two battleships, ten cruisers, and sixteen destroyers. While we haven’t confirmed the presence of lift devices, assume that the carriers and battleships are capable of flight."

The thirty pilots of the First and Second Squadrons listened intently to the briefing. The squadron leader continued.

"Our task is to first neutralize the carriers, then secure air superiority around the flying fortress. The remaining naval forces will be dealt with by the Second Fleet. Focus on the Kalkinos."

His words were firm, and the pilots responded with resolute shouts.

"The air superiority squad will launch first, followed by the bombing and torpedo squads twenty minutes later. This won’t be settled in a single strike. Expect second and third waves of attacks. Remember your fuel, fight with all your might, and come back alive!"

"Sir!”

“Let’s go! Knock those sky pirates down into the Great Waterfall!!”

At the rear of the deck, the Beo-Eagles were already lined up, engines running. Kiyoaki once again leaped into his beloved aircraft and waited for the moment to take off.

Ahead of him, comrades from Leo’s battalion were taking off one after another. Unlike land-based operations, they couldn’t launch three aircraft simultaneously, which made the process slower. After Kagura and Illia took off, Kiyoaki connected the engine shaft with the inertia-driven mechanism, lowered the flaps, and fully opened the throttle, lifting off just before the bridge.

As they joined up with the fifteen aircraft launched from the Hydeland, a lead aircraft with three seats took the front of the formation. A skilled navigator, who excelled in celestial navigation, calculated the speed and course of the enemy fleet and led the 45-aircraft squadron of air superiority fighters toward the estimated contact point.

As Kiyoaki gazed at Kagura’s tail fin, his heart began to pound faster.

The enemy’s air force was clearly superior. Their numbers were nearly double that of their own.

But…

We have to win. This battle will decide the outcome of the war.

Both the enemy and allied forces had brought almost all their air and naval strength to this battlefield. Whoever was annihilated here would be the loser of the Hydrabard Campaign, without a doubt. No matter how large the enemy was, they had to be brought down. Casualties in the process were unavoidable.

I don’t want any of my comrades to die…

With that prayer in his heart, Kiyoaki kept flying.

Before long…

“We are entering the target airspace. All hands, prepare for battle. Stay vigilant, and report any abnormalities immediately,” Leo’s voice came through, and Kiyoaki narrowed his eyes as he stared ahead.

They were flying at an altitude of 2,500 meters. Beyond the windscreen, the horizon seemed to rush toward them at an abnormal speed.

No… that’s not the horizon.

It’s a rupture in the ocean.

The blue ocean stretched endlessly, broken by a horizontal crack that seemed to divide it. Even from this altitude, the crack’s end was lost in the atmospheric haze, beyond the range of sight.

The infinite blue was torn open.

The Great Waterfall.

The moment he realized it, the ocean below them vanished into the abyss.

It was as if the ground had been pulled out from under them, dropping them into a deep chasm.

The ocean collapsed, like an avalanche of snow.

The water that collided with the lower sea surface spewed massive plumes of mist at the base of the Great Waterfall, stretching into the horizon and forming thousands of rainbows. Looking back at the waterfall, it appeared as though a wall of rainbows stood behind them.

The vertical drop of the rupture was about 1,300 meters. As planned, Kiyoaki adjusted his altimeter to 3,800 meters using his fingertips. It was a breathtaking sight, no matter how many times he saw it, but now was not the time for leisurely sightseeing.

The lead aircraft shook its wings vigorously, signalling that it had visual on the target.

“Forty degrees to the left, enemy fleet sighted!!”

“Flying fortress sighted!!”

The speakers crackled with announcements in quick succession. Kiyoaki focused his gaze in the indicated direction.

To the southwest, there was a swarm of steel ships spread out on the ocean’s surface. Two massive silver slabs lined up side by side, with two colossal whale-like shapes ahead and behind, surrounded by smaller ships like a school of fish.

Their first target was the Uranos carrier fleet in its circular formation.

Far behind the fleet, hovering at an altitude of about 2,000 meters, was a familiar, ominous island-like silhouette.

“Kalkinos, approximately 30,000 meters away!!”

The lead plane identified the fortress by its shape and calculated the distance, relaying the information to the entire squadron. Leo’s orders came through clearly.

“The first target is the carrier fleet. Secure air superiority around the fleet.”

“Hah!!”

At 3,500 meters, Kiyoaki looked down at the imposing fleet below. It was the largest fleet he had ever seen. Their task was to neutralize it and then move on to the flying fortress. The battle would continue until both were defeated.

“Enemy aircraft sighted!!”

Hamilton’s shout rang out from the speakers. Kiyoaki quickly scanned the surrounding airspace but saw nothing.

“Lead the way! All planes, follow Hamilton!!”

Leo’s command echoed, and Hamilton flipped his wings like a hawk, catching the sunlight as he climbed for altitude.

Kagura followed, with Kiyoaki and Illia guarding her flanks as they ascended.

The Beo-Eagle engines roared, pulling the planes rapidly upward.

At 5,700 meters, Hamilton levelled off. Kiyoaki strained his eyes in the direction of Hamilton’s nose and spotted them.

“Enemy fighters…!”

They weren’t Idra. These were unfamiliar fighters with W-shaped silhouettes when seen from the front.

“That’s the Ion. It’s Uranos’ new model. Two 20mm cannons in the wings, two 13mm machine guns in the fuselage. I’ve never seen so many of them at once. Be careful, they’re much stronger than the Idra,” Leo’s calm voice warned.

The enemy had apparently spotted them as well. A swarm of about seventy enemy planes approached head-on at the same altitude.

“We’re evenly matched. Don’t chase them too far. Their numbers and performance may be better, but we’ve got teamwork on our side.”

“Hah!!”

Kiyoaki responded through the mic, feeling his adrenaline spike.

The enemy formation closed in rapidly.

Their wings were curved in an unusual shape, and he could see the 20mm cannons jutting out from the wings. It was an eerie opponent, unfamiliar and unsettling.

They were less than 5,000 meters away now. With both sides at combat speed, the distance would disappear in the blink of an eye.

“Here we go!!”

“Yee-haw!!”

“Let’s do this!!”

“Don’t die, everyone!!”

Voices of command, cheers, and encouragement echoed from the speakers, as streams of tracer rounds rained down in front of Kiyoaki.

“Contact!!”

The deafening roar of propellers passed overhead.

Simultaneously, a barrage of incendiary rounds sliced through the air around the cockpit.

Black smoke billowed, flames erupted, and Kiyoaki’s eyes widened in concentration.

His focus was solely on Kagura’s plane.

I must protect Kagura.

That was the only thought on his mind.

“Kagura Squadron, moving into pursuit! Kiyoaki, Illia, cover the rear!!” Kagura’s clear voice broke through the chaos on the radio.

“Hah!!”

Kagura twisted her plane, looking up at the ocean from beneath, and dove into a roll. As Kiyoaki followed her lead, he noticed the Ion squadron chasing one of their own Beo-Eagles, oblivious to their approach. Kagura had already spotted a vulnerable target.

I hadn’t noticed it myself.

Feeling a slight pang of frustration, Kiyoaki followed Kagura’s right wing, descending 1,500 meters in one quick dive. The Ion chasing the Beo-Eagle was completely unaware of their presence.

Through the windscreen, the upper surface of the Ion grew larger.

It was a textbook perfect angle for a deflection shot. A good omen.

Kagura’s plane became the hawk, sinking its talons of armour-piercing rounds into the exposed back of the defenceless prey.

“Kill confirmed!!”

As the enemy plane turned into a ball of fire, Kagura’s triumphant shout echoed through the radio.

“Well done, Kagura!!”

As Kiyoaki followed Kagura’s pull-up, he praised her. Nearby, the grateful Beo-Eagle pilot signalled his thanks to Kagura.

“Don’t let your guard down. The enemy still has the advantage. Keep a lookout.”

“Hah!”

After exchanging words with Kagura, Kiyoaki scanned the skies above.

The airspace was a chaotic dance floor, where the Beo-Eagles and Ions clashed.

It was a brutal dogfight, with no room for hit-and-run tactics.

Each side chased the other’s tail, gnashing at each other, and one by one, planes turned into fireballs, scattering in the blue sky.

Shattered fragments of aircraft whirled through the summer air. Sparkling like glittering dust, they were kicked aside as the silver wings of the Beo-Eagles spat streams of tracer rounds. The Ions, like wild gazelles, dodged the fiery arrows with nimble manoeuvres, executing a series of nearly impossible high-G turns that allowed them to flip behind the Beo-Eagles. After a few exchanges, it became clear that the Ions had superior manoeuvrability.

It was dangerous.”

“I’ll protect them!!”

Kagura shouted, echoing Kiyoaki’s own thoughts.

Kagura surged upward, rushing to rescue a comrade who was being tailed by an enemy. Kiyoaki quickly followed in formation on her right, when—

“Enemy aircraft at one hundred and twenty degrees left!!”

Illia’s voice rang out.

Kiyoaki turned in the indicated direction. Just as Illia had said, three Ion fighters were heading toward them. They were outnumbered, and in this chaotic battle, it was inevitable they’d be chased.

“Illia, Kiyoaki, I’m counting on you…!!”

“Yes!!”

Kagura had to prioritize helping their ally. Meanwhile, Kiyoaki and Illia had to fend off the three approaching enemy planes to protect Kagura.

I won’t let Kagura be killed right in front of me.

Kiyoaki tightened his grip on the control stick, pouring his soul into it.

He glared at the approaching enemy planes.

“Come on.”

His eyes sharpened like those of a fierce predator.

Illia’s calm voice came over the radio.

“Let’s stay calm, Sakagami.”

“Yeah, stay calm.”

Together, they rolled their wings and approached the enemies stalking Kagura. They quickly positioned themselves to intercept the incoming threat, placing themselves in the perfect position to shoot down the enemy if they dared to target Kagura.

Kagura was completely focused on her original target. Locking onto an enemy during a dogfight required all her concentration, leaving her unable to deal with any pursuers. During this vulnerable time, it was up to her wingmen to defend her.

Kagura trusted Kiyoaki and Illia, and they entrusted their lives to protecting her.

The three operated as one.

We will protect her.

With intense concentration, Kiyoaki closed in on the enemies, occasionally coming close to colliding with them, firing intimidating bursts of 20mm rounds directly at their noses.

Kagura’s wings unleashed fire, and once again, a fiery explosion blossomed in the sky.

“Enemy down!!”

Kagura twisted her body as if leaping off the ground, like a deer. The enemy that had been chasing her kept following, and now Kiyoaki was tailing the enemy in turn.

The chase lined up like a string of beads: enemy, ally, enemy, in a continuous pursuit. Just as the enemy was about to lock onto Kagura, Kiyoaki had his sights on that very same enemy.

There was no hesitation.

He squeezed the trigger, and the enemy plane shattered in his sights.

Instead of the expected rush of exhilaration, Kiyoaki felt a chilling sensation creep over him.

He didn’t even have time to shout in triumph before glancing back.

“What!?”

A new Ion had appeared right behind him, so close that its presence sent a shiver down his spine.

It was a sure hit.

I’ve been caught.

In that moment of resignation, Mio’s smiling face flashed before Kiyoaki’s eyes.

Mio, I’m sorry.

I won’t be able to come see you.

In the split second he silently apologized, the Ion’s left wing was blown apart.

Kiyoaki’s impending death was sent flying out of sight, far off into the distance.

Instead, a Beo-Eagle soared upward, scattering the debris of the destroyed enemy plane. From the cockpit, a beautiful girl waved at Kiyoaki.

“Illia!!”

“Stay focused. We still have a long way to go.”

Filled with gratitude, Kiyoaki followed Illia. That was a close call. If she hadn’t intervened, he would surely have been blown to pieces and fallen into the ocean.

“Yeah, sorry, and thank you…!!”

After reuniting with Kagura, Kiyoaki and Illia exchanged signals of thanks and turned their attention back to the battlefield.

The situation was still dire. Despite their valiant efforts, they were at a disadvantage in both numbers and aircraft performance.

Kiyoaki saw two, three Beo-Eagles trailing long tails of fire as they fell. The planes carried comrades who had been drinking and fooling around on the beach just the night before. From the speakers came the desperate calls for fallen friends.

“Moby!! Please respond, Moby!!”

“No, Glenda, don’t leave, Glenda!!”

They were familiar names. So Moby and Glenda had been aboard those two planes that had just crashed into the sea. Moby had been the one to casually talk to Kiyoaki when he was still a nervous newcomer. Glenda, though tough, had a kind heart, often standing up for Illia when the non-commissioned officers teased her with crude jokes. Had those kind souls really been reduced to nothing but sea foam?

But there was no time for grief on the battlefield.

“Fight! You can cry later!!”

Kagura’s commanding voice rang out, shaking Kiyoaki from his sorrow.

That’s right. There’s no time to mourn.

He realized he had almost let himself be overwhelmed by sadness. In this place, drowning in such weak emotions would surely invite the Grim Reaper’s scythe in the next instant.

Right now, there was only one thing to do. Fight with everything he had, to make sure no more comrades died, so that as many of them as possible could make it back alive.

“Yes! I will fight with you!!”

He threw his response over the radio and chased Kagura’s tail once more. With only courage in his heart, he dove into the deadly melee where enemies and allies clashed fiercely.

Their only advantage was their formation flying.

Kiyoaki constantly checked Kagura’s position, ensuring he didn’t lose sight of her while keeping an eye out for any enemies targeting her. When Kagura moved in to strike an enemy, he immediately provided cover, intimidating or distracting any threats that tried to interfere.

The inside of Kiyoaki’s skull grew hotter.

With every enemy Kagura shot down, and with each one Kiyoaki himself downed, he felt his entire body surge with adrenaline.

The sweet intoxication of battle was overtaking his thoughts. His instincts for survival and battle were rising to the surface.

I want to shoot down more enemies.

Despite being surrounded by death in this chaotic air battle, Kiyoaki felt no fear. Instead, the thrill of shooting down enemies made him crave more.

It’s not enough.

Pushing through clouds of smoke, watching enemy planes disintegrate in flames, Kiyoaki had already turned into a beast, driven solely by the hunger for more kills.

Isn’t there a more challenging enemy out there?

He had long since stopped counting how many planes he’d downed. His only focus was breaking through fireballs and reducing fleeing enemies to twisted metal.

At that moment, when he was seeking his next target—

“Kiyoaki, you’re going too far!!”

Kagura’s voice snapped him out of it.

He looked around, suddenly aware of his surroundings. Kagura was nowhere to be seen. Illia wasn’t there either. Two Ion fighters were closing in from his rear, approaching fast.

He cursed under his breath.

Realizing he had let himself get carried away by the heat of battle, Kiyoaki saw the Ions’ 20mm cannons aiming right at his fuselage.

He rolled sharply to the side to dodge and began a dive. The enemy followed, turning sharply as they pursued. Their superior firepower, speed, and manoeuvrability meant that if he stayed on the defensive, it was only a matter of time before they shot him down.

“Damn it.”

He had been warned so many times not to fly off on his own, and yet here he was, completely isolated. Outmatched in both numbers and aircraft performance, their only advantage had been their formation tactics—and Kiyoaki had abandoned it.

“Kiyoaki, where are you? I can’t see you!!”

Kagura’s panicked voice came over the radio.

“Sakagami, I’m sorry, I’ve lost visual…!!”

Illia’s apologetic voice followed. Kiyoaki responded with a strained voice.

“Don’t worry about me, I’ll handle it…!!”

Even though his job was to protect Kagura, Kiyoaki had let the chaos of the battle consume him, and now he was paying the price. He had to at least clean up his own mess.

I’ve fought one-on-one with Illia so many times.

Compared to Illia, you’re nothing…!!

He glared at the enemy fighters chasing him. Their speed was superior, and the gap between them closed quickly.

Altitude: fifty meters.

The ocean stretched right below him. All he could do now was fly low, skimming the surface and waiting for his comrades to come to his aid.

If I keep running, someone will help me.

Trust your comrades. Just hang on until then.

Kiyoaki reassured himself as he timed the enemy’s shots, slamming the foot pedals.

The 20mm rounds from the enemy plane peppered the sea surface, sending up thousands of water spouts.

As he dodged the bullets, another enemy plane fired its second barrage.

“Dammit…!!”

Barely managing to kick the left pedal, Kiyoaki narrowly avoided the attack. A split-second mistake in manoeuvring would mean instant death, turning him into nothing but debris on the ocean floor. The slightest mistiming, too early or too late, would spell the end. Yet, this was the only way to survive.

“I won’t lose to you, you bastard…!!”

He growled as he glared back at the pursuing enemy. Just then, the lead Ion exploded into pieces.

“What!?”

"I told you not to go in alone."

A reprimanding voice came over the speaker. A friendly Beo-Eagle shot past Kiyoaki, and painted on the nose was a playful lion.

“Lieutenant Leo!!”

The moment Kiyoaki shouted in joy, another Ion’s wing was blown apart.

“Yoo-hoo, Kiyoaki, you’re looking brave out there~”

“Don’t get cocky, kid!”

Leo’s wingmen, Lulu and Lala, waved cheerfully as they overtook Kiyoaki. Swallowing his pride and feeling gratitude, Kiyoaki waved back.

“Yes, sorry! Thank you so much!!”

Both Illia earlier and now Leo’s squad had saved his life twice. If not for them, Kiyoaki would have died already. He reflected on his recklessness and vowed not to repeat the mistake.

“The strike force has arrived. All units, switch to escort duty. Don’t engage unnecessarily, protect the torpedo bombers.”

Leo’s command echoed, and when Kiyoaki looked up towards the great waterfall, he saw a massive formation of one hundred and twenty St Vault aircraft: dive bombers carrying 500kg bombs and torpedo planes equipped with oxygen torpedoes.

Though they hadn’t achieved air superiority yet, the attack would proceed. Knowing that the enemy fleet was also launching its own attack on the friendly fleet, Kiyoaki understood that some of his comrades would inevitably fall prey to the enemy fighters, but the strike had to go ahead now.

Kiyoaki turned his craft toward the strike force. He was still being pursued by enemies, but for now, protecting the friendly bombers was the top priority. Circling around the slow-moving formation of bombers, he fended off any approaching enemy fighters, driving them away.

The bombers moved agonizingly slowly. To the fighter pilots, they seemed to crawl along. Kiyoaki, taking on the role of a sheepdog protecting a flock from wolves, tried to keep his mind clear and assess the situation.

The enemy Ion fighters attacked the bombers from all directions using hit-and-run tactics. Kiyoaki focused on disrupting their attacks, aiming his guns at their noses to drive them off. The goal wasn’t to shoot them down, just to keep them from attacking the bombers. In an air superiority mission, the priority was killing enemies, but during escort duty, the focus was entirely on protecting the friendlies.

But it wasn’t easy. Unable to engage in proper dogfights, Kiyoaki saw two, three of his comrades’ planes go down. Each time, desperate voices crackled through the speakers.

“I’m hit… I’m done for.”

It was Jude’s voice. Glancing down, Kiyoaki saw a Beo-Eagle trailing a long tail of fire as it plummeted toward the ocean. The pilot was waving from the cockpit.

“Bail out, you can still make it!!”

“Don’t go, Jude! It’s too soon!!”

“No, please, Jude, don’t die!!”

The anguished cries of his comrades filled the radio. Kiyoaki could only shout in desperation.

“Jude! Use your parachute!!”

But the flames had already engulfed the cockpit. Jude’s final words came through, filled with resolve.

“Win this… for me, guys!”

With those words, Jude’s plane exploded. The fireball rose high into the sky, and the squad’s screams followed in its wake.

“Don’t lose heart! Fight! Fight for Jude!!”

Leo’s angry shout pierced through the airwaves. Though sadness tinged his voice, there was only one thing left to do now: fight.

Kiyoaki glared at the approaching enemy fighters. Jude, who had joined the Voltec Air Squadron to pay for his brother’s medical bills, always led the charge during their drunken antics on the beach. That crude but kind-hearted young man was gone now. For Jude’s sake, Kiyoaki knew this attack had to succeed.

All units came together, focusing everything they had on protecting the bombers and torpedo planes. After what felt like an eternity, though only two minutes had passed, they finally reached the decisive battleground, despite the heavy losses.

“Thanks, fighters. Raven dive bombers, entering bombing run.”

“Hydeland torpedo squad, thanks for the cover. We’re commencing the attack.”

With those brief words of gratitude, the dive bombers began their descent from 3,500 meters, accompanied by the roar of their propellers. Below, the torpedo planes fanned out in an arc, launching their attack.

Their target was the ring-shaped formation of the enemy carrier fleet, a castle-like stronghold on the sea.

As the air thickened with anti-aircraft fire, the bombers and torpedo planes were engulfed in a storm of shrapnel.

Bombers exploded in mid-air, torpedo planes were torn apart, all while still carrying their payloads. But no one stopped. They left behind the deaths of their comrades in an instant and pressed forward, single-mindedly focused on their target.

They broke through the screen of destroyers and cruisers and locked their sights on the enemy carriers. Swarming Ion fighters tried to stop them, but the Voltec Air Squadron literally shielded them with their bodies.

Amidst the cries of death and destruction, bombs and torpedoes streaked toward the enemy carriers.

Mixed in with the cries was a shout of victory.

“Direct hit!!”

“Take that, you bastard!!”

A 500kg bomb had landed squarely on an enemy carrier’s flight deck, and a massive fireball erupted as the ship lurched to one side. A moment later, two massive plumes of water rose from torpedo strikes along the carrier’s flank.

“Torpedo hit!!”

“That’s for Jude, you bastards!!”

The shouts of triumph from the Voltec Air Squadron echoed in Kiyoaki’s ears. He couldn’t help but share their satisfaction. This victory was achieved at great cost, paid for by the lives of their comrades.

The subsequent waves of allied bombers followed suit, unleashing their payloads on the enemy carrier fleet. One carrier was critically damaged, and another had its flight deck destroyed by dive bombers. The first wave of attacks had gone exceptionally well.

“Return to base! Prepare for the second strike!!”

Leo’s command reverberated through the air. With the first attack complete, there was no reason to linger. Leo led the Voltec Air Squadron as they turned back toward the Great Waterfall.

“Don’t let your guard down. There’s still the flying fortress to deal with…”

Burning Leo’s warning into his mind, Kiyoaki found Kagura and took his position behind her. After a quick apology, the surviving members of the squadron aligned their wings and returned to their mothership, Raven. Though exhausted from the first wave, the battle was far from over. The fight to obliterate the enemy’s remaining forces would continue.

We will win, and we will survive.

Kiyoaki etched those words into his heart as he followed Kagura across the waterfall. The long day had only just begun.

Toaru Hikuushi e no Seiyaku

2025-01-12T08:19:01Z

QCore:

[[File:Volume 9 Cover Page.jpg|thumb]]
The ''A Certain Pilot's Promise'' series is available in the following languages:
*[https://www.baka-tsuki.org/project/index.php?title=Toaru_Hikuushi_e_no_Seiyaku English]

'''''A Certain Pilot's Promise / Toaru Hikuushi e no Seiyaku (とある飛空士への誓約)''''' is a light novel series written by Inumura Koroku and illustrated by Morisawa Haruyuki.

==Story Synopsis==
Seven students from different backgrounds join together to travel across the Multi Island sea to the Air Hunt Officer academy. This Journey starts the friendships which will last a lifetime, and remains intact even when the nations of the Multi island Archipelago begin to battle and tear them apart. "Even if we become enemies, we will not hate each other... Friendship is eternal"
Characters from each of the previous 3 light novel series join forces to take down the Sky Clan

== Translation ==
===Format Standards===
'''Every Chapter (after editing) must conform to the general format guidelines.'''
*[[Format_guideline|General Format/Style Guideline]]

== Updates ==
*October 10 2024 - Initial Volume being translated.

==''To Aru Hikūshi e no Seiyaku'' by Inumura Koroku==
[[File:CoverVol1.png|thumb]]
::*A Certain Pilot's Promise Volume 1 ([[A Certain Pilot's Promise, Vol. 1|Full Text]]) - [https://drive.google.com/file/d/1TkgyrvXqLIkZka5hqmKl8GPwKkYkRSVd/view?usp=sharing PDF/EPUB] (ISBN978-4-09-451364-6)
::[[Toaru Hikuushi e no Seiyaku:Preface|Preface]]
::[[Toaru Hikuushi e no Seiyaku:Part1|Part 1]]
::[[Toaru Hikuushi e no Seiyaku:Part2|Part 2]]
::[[Toaru Hikuushi e no Seiyaku:Part3|Part 3]]
::[[Toaru Hikuushi e no Seiyaku:Part4|Part 4]]
::[[Toaru Hikuushi e no Seiyaku:Part5|Part 5]]
::[[Toaru Hikuushi e no Seiyaku:Part6|Part 6]]
::[[Toaru Hikuushi e no Seiyaku:Part7|Part 7]]
::[[Toaru Hikuushi e no Seiyaku:Part8|Part 8]]
::[[Toaru Hikuushi e no Seiyaku:Part9|Part 9]]
::[[Toaru Hikuushi e no Seiyaku:Part10|Part 10]]
::[[Toaru Hikuushi e no Seiyaku:Part11|Part 11]]
::[[Toaru Hikuushi e no Seiyaku:Part12|Part 12]]

 

[[File:Vol2Cover.png|thumb]]
::*A Certain Pilot's Promise Volume 2 ([[A Certain Pilot's Promise, Vol. 2|Full Text]]) - [https://drive.google.com/file/d/1MNDfwPIkBPZaOeDuUCRfTXTvz1hTDnOB/view?usp=sharing PDF/EPUB] (ISBN978-4-09-451396-7)
::[[Toaru Hikuushi e no Seiyaku:V2Preface|Preface]]
::[[Toaru Hikuushi e no Seiyaku:V2Part1|Part 1]]
::[[Toaru Hikuushi e no Seiyaku:V2Part2|Part 2]]
::[[Toaru Hikuushi e no Seiyaku:V2Part3|Part 3]]
::[[Toaru Hikuushi e no Seiyaku:V2Part4|Part 4]]
::[[Toaru Hikuushi e no Seiyaku:V2Part5|Part 5]]
::[[Toaru Hikuushi e no Seiyaku:V2Part6|Part 6]]
::[[Toaru Hikuushi e no Seiyaku:V2Part7|Part 7]]
::[[Toaru Hikuushi e no Seiyaku:V2Part8|Part 8]]
::[[Toaru Hikuushi e no Seiyaku:V2Part9|Part 9]]

 

::*A Certain Pilot's Promise Volume 3 - [https://drive.google.com/file/d/14-7QpGMgwug-qwWvPnCTxgezVdc_mRqq/view?usp=sharing PDF/EPUB] (ISBN978-4-09-451428-5)
::[[Toaru Hikuushi e no Seiyaku:V3Part1|Part 1]]
::[[Toaru Hikuushi e no Seiyaku:V3Part2|Part 2]]
::[[Toaru Hikuushi e no Seiyaku:V3Part3|Part 3]]
::[[Toaru Hikuushi e no Seiyaku:V3Part4|Part 4]]
::[[Toaru Hikuushi e no Seiyaku:V3Part5|Part 5]]
::[[Toaru Hikuushi e no Seiyaku:V3Part6|Part 6]]
::*A Certain Pilot's Promise Volume 4 - [https://drive.google.com/file/d/1qSZVjC0Yaqy2CRrDOKgCwrqVIayxl4lY/view?usp=sharing PDF/EPUB] (ISBN978-4-09-451459-9)
::[[Toaru Hikuushi e no Seiyaku:V4Part1|Part 1]]
::[[Toaru Hikuushi e no Seiyaku:V4Part2|Part 2]]
::[[Toaru Hikuushi e no Seiyaku:V4Part3|Part 3]]
::[[Toaru Hikuushi e no Seiyaku:V4Part4|Part 4]]
::[[Toaru Hikuushi e no Seiyaku:V4Part5|Part 5]]
::[[Toaru Hikuushi e no Seiyaku:V4Part6|Part 6]]
::[[Toaru Hikuushi e no Seiyaku:V4Part7|Part 7]]
::*A Certain Pilot's Promise Volume 5 - [https://drive.google.com/file/d/1UIUE7AqSDYpT1LvvEYRFyhfGSR7OwScK/view?usp=sharing PDF/EPUB] (ISBN978-4-09-451473-5)
::[[Toaru Hikuushi e no Seiyaku:V5Part1|Part 1]]
::[[Toaru Hikuushi e no Seiyaku:V5Part2|Part 2]]
::[[Toaru Hikuushi e no Seiyaku:V5Part3|Part 3]]
::[[Toaru Hikuushi e no Seiyaku:V5Part5|Part 4]]
::[[Toaru Hikuushi e no Seiyaku:V5Part6|Part 5]]
::[[Toaru Hikuushi e no Seiyaku:V5Part7|Part 6]]
::[[Toaru Hikuushi e no Seiyaku:V5Part8|Part 7]]
::*A Certain Pilot's Promise Volume 6 - [https://drive.google.com/file/d/1DucTBtgzbO6bKJdnHVtWDoOvOmM5Zg80/view?usp=sharing PDF/EPUB] (ISBN978-4-09-451506-0)
::[[Toaru Hikuushi e no Seiyaku:V6Part1|Part 1]]
::[[Toaru Hikuushi e no Seiyaku:V6Part2|Part 2]]
::[[Toaru Hikuushi e no Seiyaku:V6Part3|Part 3]]
::[[Toaru Hikuushi e no Seiyaku:V6Part4|Part 4]]
::[[Toaru Hikuushi e no Seiyaku:V6Part5|Part 5]]
::[[Toaru Hikuushi e no Seiyaku:V6Part6|Part 6]]
::[[Toaru Hikuushi e no Seiyaku:V6Part7|Part 7]]
::[[Toaru Hikuushi e no Seiyaku:V6Part8|Part 8]]
::[[Toaru Hikuushi e no Seiyaku:V6Part9|Part 9]]
::[[Toaru Hikuushi e no Seiyaku:V6Part10|Part 10]]
::[[Toaru Hikuushi e no Seiyaku:V6Part11|Part 11]]
::*A Certain Pilot's Promise Volume 7 - [https://drive.google.com/file/d/1Ve2hBdSxfppjTJXOIcITZLUcwXrNrZYH/view?usp=sharing PDF/EPUB] (ISBN978-4-09-451531-0)
::[[Toaru Hikuushi e no Seiyaku:V7Part1|Part 1]]
::[[Toaru Hikuushi e no Seiyaku:V7Part2|Part 2]]
::[[Toaru Hikuushi e no Seiyaku:V7Part3|Part 3]]
::[[Toaru Hikuushi e no Seiyaku:V7Part4|Part 4]]
::[[Toaru Hikuushi e no Seiyaku:V7Part5|Part 5]]
::[[Toaru Hikuushi e no Seiyaku:V7Part6|Part 6]]
::[[Toaru Hikuushi e no Seiyaku:V7Part7|Part 7]]
::[[Toaru Hikuushi e no Seiyaku:V7Part8|Part 8]]
::[[Toaru Hikuushi e no Seiyaku:V7Part9|Part 9]]
::*A Certain Pilot's Promise Volume 8 - [https://drive.google.com/file/d/1mFQvwhc7UQWThpS5PESl4RG4xCZjvo10/view?usp=sharing PDF/EPUB] (ISBN978-4-09-451556-5)
::[[Toaru Hikuushi e no Seiyaku:V8Part1|Part 1]]
::[[Toaru Hikuushi e no Seiyaku:V8Part2|Part 2]]
::[[Toaru Hikuushi e no Seiyaku:V8Part3|Part 3]]
::[[Toaru Hikuushi e no Seiyaku:V8Part4|Part 4]]
::[[Toaru Hikuushi e no Seiyaku:V8Part5|Part 5]]
::[[Toaru Hikuushi e no Seiyaku:V8Part6|Part 6]]
::[[Toaru Hikuushi e no Seiyaku:V8Part7|Part 7]]
::[[Toaru Hikuushi e no Seiyaku:V8Part8|Part 8]]
::[[Toaru Hikuushi e no Seiyaku:V8Part9|Part 9]]
::*A Certain Pilot's Promise Volume 9 - [https://drive.google.com/file/d/1crovhjqxU_SjeL-FsiPV3hicTm5_lV7O/view?usp=sharing PDF/EPUB] (ISBN978-4-09-451582-4)
::[[Toaru Hikuushi e no Seiyaku:V9Part1|Part 1]]
::[[Toaru Hikuushi e no Seiyaku:V9Part2|Part 2]]
::[[Toaru Hikuushi e no Seiyaku:V9Part3|Part 3]]
::[[Toaru Hikuushi e no Seiyaku:V9Part4|Part 4]]
::[[Toaru Hikuushi e no Seiyaku:V9Part5|Part 5]]
::[[Toaru Hikuushi e no Seiyaku:V9Part6|Part 6]]
::[[Toaru Hikuushi e no Seiyaku:V9Part7|Part 7]]
::[[Toaru Hikuushi e no Seiyaku:V9Part8|Part 8]]
::[[Toaru Hikuushi e no Seiyaku:V9Part9|Part 9]]
::[[Toaru Hikuushi e no Seiyaku:V9Part10|Part 10]]
::[[Toaru Hikuushi e no Seiyaku:V9Part11|Part 11]]
::[[Toaru Hikuushi e no Seiyaku:V9Part12|Part 12]]
::[[Toaru Hikuushi e no Seiyaku:V9Part13|Final]]

==Project Staff==
===Translator===
::*Anon

==Series Overview==
* とある飛空士への誓約 / To Aru Hikūshi e no Seiyaku

[[Category:Hosted Projects]]
[[Category:Light novel (English)]]

==Read Order==
*1. [https://www.baka-tsuki.org/project/index.php?title=Remembrances_for_a_certain_pilot To Aru Hikuushi e no Tsuioku]
*2. [https://www.baka-tsuki.org/project/index.php?title=Toaru_Hikuushi_e_no_Yasoukyoku To Aru Hikuushi e no Yasoukyoku]
*3. [https://www.baka-tsuki.org/project/index.php?title=Toaru_Hikuushi_e_no_Koiuta To Aru Hikuushi e no Koiuta]
*4. [https://www.baka-tsuki.org/project/index.php?title=Toaru_Hikuushi_e_no_Seiyaku To Aru Hikuushi e no Seiyaku]

==Related Series==
* とある飛空士への追憶 / To Aru Hikūshi e no Tsuioku [https://www.baka-tsuki.org/project/index.php?title=Remembrances_for_a_certain_pilot Overview Series] (Prequel)
* とある飛空士への恋歌 / To Aru Hikūshi e no Koiuta [https://www.baka-tsuki.org/project/index.php?title=Toaru_Hikuushi_e_no_Koiuta Overview Series] (Prequel)
* とある飛空士への夜想曲 / To Aru Hikūshi e no Yasoukyoku [https://www.baka-tsuki.org/project/index.php?title=Toaru_Hikuushi_e_no_Yasoukyoku Overview Series] (Prequel)