Toaru Hikuushi e no Seiyaku:Part1

Part 1

In May of the Empire Year 1342, on Mauregan Island, at Chandler Airfield— Beams of light sliced through the starry sky. Like a cocktail scattered with gold leaf, the night stirred anxiously under the light’s stirring straws, while the woman stood at the edge of the runway, buffeted by the wind.

The airship that had contacted them earlier was heading toward this searchlight corridor, carrying with it the hopes of the Archipelago in its rear seat.

The woman prayed for the unseen airship’s safety. It would take a miracle to have flown from Sierra Greed amidst the chaos caused by the Urano invasion, breaking through enemy lines to reach here solo.

A distant rumble of thunder echoed. The faint vibration of the atmosphere reached the ears of those gathered. An embassy official standing beside the woman pointed to a corner of the night sky.

“It’s here.”

The woman strained her eyes in the indicated direction.

Amidst the twinkling stars, only the hum of a propeller, faint as an insect’s wings, could be heard.

The searchlight team swept the night. The beams intersected the sky, resembling the outstretched arms of abandoned people pleading for mercy from the heavens.

Then, the tip of a light beam caught something.

A cheer arose from the gathered high-ranking officials.

Five searchlights simultaneously illuminated a familiar biplane, revealing its silhouette in the apex of the glowing triangle.

“Akmed…”

She murmured the knight’s name in relief.

Four lanterns, serving as landing lights, were placed at either end of the runway. The aircraft, camouflaged in a dark blue sea pattern, approached. Amidst the embassy officials’ and ground crew’s whistles and cheers, the distinguished biplane slowly descended with a graceful angle and touched down on its two wheels.

The people, who had been waiting anxiously, rushed toward the airship, while the woman followed behind. The crowd surrounded the biplane, welcoming the young man who disembarked from the cockpit, his figure silhouetted against the light.

“It’s a commendable achievement, Akmed!” “The bloodline of the King has survived; the restoration will come!”

Without even raising his hand to the cheering crowd, Akmed opened the rear canopy.

A child, who seemed to be around ten years old, was held by Akmed and carefully set down on the wing.

The cheers grew even louder. Some called out the name of the King, some wept, and others fell to their knees, offering prayers of gratitude to the Lord of Heaven.

—The royal family of Sylvania had not perished.

As the woman walked closer to the crowd, she quietly confirmed that fact.

Akmed, noticing the woman, knelt and presented a slender document box. The ambassador, receiving the woman's approval, placed it on the ground and removed the lid.

Wrapped in deep purple silk was an ancient staff. The head of the staff was inlaid with the crest of Saint Ardista, adorned with various gemstones.

—The Holy Staff.

A symbol of kingship. Whoever holds this staff is the rightful heir to the throne of Sylvania.

“Hah!”

The woman took the hand of the heir to the throne and turned around. The strong wind flapped the hem of her coat.

The heir glanced at her aunt’s profile, gently let go of her hand, and embraced Akmed.

“Thank you. I won’t forget you, Akmed.”

Akmed stood still, feeling the warmth of the life he had saved. He lifted his face and engraved the innocent expression of the heir into his memory.

“…When you grow up and need me, I will come to you, even from the ends of the earth. Stay well. My wings will forever remain under the Sylvania royal family.”

The heir tightened her grip around Akmed’s back, wiped her tearful face with his arm, and ran back to her aunt.

Akmed watched the small figure retreating.

He had completed the final important task entrusted to him by the king. The small sense of satisfaction quickly passed, replaced by a tremor in Akmed’s

chest, a premonition of the coming storm.

He stood up and looked at the searchlights piercing the night sky.

The swirling winds layered over each other, blowing the beams of light up toward the stars.

The difficulties that awaited those who were defeated would be unimaginable. Having driven the troublesome Sylvania Kingdom to ruin and seized Hydrabard, Urano would begin its sweep. The remnants of the royal family would be driven to the southern archipelago, forced to cross the Great Falls and aim for the northern archipelago. Stripped of their wealth, lands, and people, they would be left with nothing but their lives, destined to wander unknown lands as exiles.

—However, even so.

Akmed glared up at the starlit sky, pierced by wind and light. “The Valkyries will not perish.” Blood streamed from his temple, tracing his cheek before falling to the ground. Wiping it away with his arm, Akmed turned on his heel.

“One day, I will return to the skies of Hydrabard.”

He carved that oath into his soul, so deeply that blood seemed to seep from the engraving.