Toaru Hikuushi e no Seiyaku:V9Part9

Part 27 (Part 9 of Volume 9)

"The bravado didn't last long, did it? I'll admit, we were a bit caught off guard at first, but now that our defences are in place, there's no problem at all. In fact, this situation has turned out to be quite useful for assessing the capital's air defences," Zenon said, stepping out onto the balcony of the celestial palace. He gazed at the overwhelming presence of the Alice Actus squadrons dominating the skies over Pleiades and smiled brightly.

"The Ortega's performance was nothing short of spectacular. Perhaps I should be thanking you. After all, you've graciously brought so many of your friends here, giving us a perfect opportunity to showcase the capabilities of our latest jet fighters. I'm sure Lester Mathilda & Co., the manufacturers, must be overjoyed. They might even send you a letter of gratitude."

Mio, still bound tightly with rough ropes, lay on the balcony floor, blood dripping from her mouth as she craned her neck to look at the sky. All she could see were the Alice Actus fighters. The Valkyries were nowhere to be found.

"By the time that letter arrives, you'll be squealing in a cage," Zenon continued cheerfully. "And soon enough, we'll capture Elisabeth too and throw her in the same cage. You, Claire, Elisabeth—all of you can rot together like pigs, entertaining the rabble at some squalid slum party."

Zenon's voice was light and pleasant, even as he spewed venomous insults. He glanced at the five S-class operatives of the Patriotis, who stood ready inside the celestial palace, prepared for any unforeseen developments.

"It seems unlikely that an aerial assault will occur, given the current state of things. Still, we must be prepared for the worst. And what better place to watch the battle unfold than from this prime vantage point? Since we're all gathered here, why not take the time to rekindle old friendships?"

Hachidori, Kiliai, and Renjaku, who had captured Mio, were among the five. These three were familiar to Mio. The two new faces—Kurogan and Sekirei—stood silently, their expressions unreadable as they gazed at Mio. If ground troops from Odin were to land and push toward the Ulysses Palace to capture Demistri, these six Patriotis operatives would surely be the ones to defend the palace, including Atori, who was stationed upstairs to protect Illustriali. Mio knew full well the terrifying combat abilities of the Patriotis, having seen them through Hachidori, and now, with five more of his caliber here, the prospect of capturing any Uranos VIP seemed impossible.

Urged by Zenon, the Patriotis operatives stood like statues, saying nothing. There was no hint of camaraderie between them, no idle chatter. They were like machines, existing only to follow orders from above, a fact they seemed to take pride in.

Mio's gaze shifted to Hachidori, who stood inside the room. He showed no reaction to her plight, not even a flicker of emotion in his expression. He simply stood there, waiting for orders from Zenon.

Of course. There’s no reason for him to care about me, Mio thought bitterly.

Hachidori's only goal was revenge on the mastermind who had brought down his parents. Mio had learned this after several encounters with him. There was no reason for him to help her, even if she was fighting to save Claire Cruz. No matter what horrors Mio faced, Hachidori would stand by and watch, detached. She knew this.

But knowing it didn’t make it any less disheartening. Despite everything—training together at Air Hunt Island, the time spent in Pleiades, the nights they sparred, and how he had defended her during an assassination attempt—it still stung. He had even given her his own blood when she was gravely injured, and it was he who had told her that Claire was imprisoned in the harem. She had thought, for a moment, that maybe he had some humanity in him. But now, seeing his indifferent stance, it was clear that any hope of assistance from him was futile. After all, they were never truly connected. Hachidori had only trained her because Zenon had ordered him to. If Zenon told him to stop, he would do so without hesitation. That’s his place, his role.

If there was anyone left who might help her in this situation...

Kiyoaki.

It has to be you. After receiving Fio's message, Kiyoaki really did lead the Valkyries to Pleiades. He’ll come for me. I know he will. I can’t give up hope. I’ll resist until the very end...

From the very beginning until now, nothing had changed. Mio was still as foolish as ever.

Hachidori gazed down at Mio, who was tightly bound and lying on the floor, and sighed internally. He had been forced by Zenon to train her night after night in the ways of a special operative, yet the result was this: she had been found by Renjaku, beaten to a pulp, and now subjected to degrading treatment. He had hoped she might at least put some of her training to use, but there was no hope for her survival now. After all the intense training she had undergone, this pitiful outcome was almost laughable.

No, it’s not over yet.

Sakagami is coming.

A quiet voice, not filtered through rational thought, whispered in Hachidori's mind. He tried to ignore it. It was just his imagination, nothing to pay attention to.

If Sakagami and his forces win the air battle, Pleiades will be thrown into chaos.

And when the palace falls into disarray... there might be a chance.

Hachidori dismissed the voice, though he knew the truth in it. Should the Pleiades aerial fleet be defeated, the aristocrats and officials living in the Ulysses Palace would surely panic. Right now, they pretended not to notice the impending danger, but the moment enemy forces breached the palace, they would undoubtedly flee, each trying to save themselves first. In the chaos, there could be a chance to exact his long-awaited revenge on Pope Illustriali.

With that faint hope flickering in his heart, Hachidori stood still, his face a mask of indifference. It was impossible to predict what might happen next. But there was one thing he knew for certain: his sole mission was revenge against Illustriali. He had no time to be concerned with Mio. If things went well, years of patience might finally pay off, and he could avenge his mother and himself by bringing down the mastermind who had caused their suffering.

But is that truly what I want?

He would also have to find a way to quiet the voice in his heart that refused to be silenced.

Will you really leave Mio behind like this and not regret it?

Shut up.

Don’t be stubborn. You know the truth, don’t you?

Shut up. Shut up. Shut up...

We are one.

Shut up.

You are me.

I am... Thomas.

Mio called out my name...

"Shut up."

The words slipped out of Hachidori's mouth before he could stop them. Kiliai, standing nearby, glanced at him with a puzzled expression.

Only the Ortega is the target.

Leave the Alice squadron to the others.

If they don’t bring down those three jet planes, the skies of Pleiades will never be theirs.

“Show yourself, Ortega…!!”

Kiyoaki scanned the sky, searching for the figure of the demon king he must defeat.

The Alice Actus planes circling around numbered more than 300. No matter how many they shot down, reinforcements kept taking off from the "Isolos Airfield."

Their side had 150 planes. No reserves. This was everything they had. If these 150 were wiped out, the future would be sealed. The earth below would fall under the control of the sky, and the tragedies that had unfolded across the Mitterland continent would be repeated worldwide.

Kiyoaki understood the weight of the responsibility resting on his controls more than anyone else. He accepted that burden fully, his eyes fixed on the battlefield. All that was left was to raise the banner of the Valkyries and tear down and trample upon the flag of Uranos.

He flew the black rabbit nose art of his plane with pride, searching for the enemy aircraft adorned with a scorpion nose art. He remembered that the three jets that had swooped in and shot down Akmed, who had been duelling Karnasion, all bore that same scorpion symbol.

The Ortega is driven by a lust for fame.

The one flying those planes is just a child...

Kiyoaki held onto the message that Leo and Lulu had entrusted to Lala with their lives. The pilots of the Scorpions were reckless, seeking the thrill of shooting down famous opponents without any sense of honour as aviators. The names of the "Black Rabbit" and "White Wolf" commanding the Valkyries would serve as irresistible bait.

On Kiyoaki’s left, closely following behind, was Illia. To defeat Ortegas, Illia’s cooperation was essential. If they acted as one, combining their honed dogfighting skills, they could outmanoeuvre the Ortega.

The sky was already a battlefield.

More than 500 planes from both sides whirled around 30 kilometres off the coast of Pleiades, forming a literal tornado of propellers. Below was the reddish earth, dotted with parachutes blooming from the sky, and shattered planes plummeting down, engulfed in flames.

The Pleiades defence squadron was as formidable as expected for those tasked with protecting the capital. In the initial encounter, they had been thrown into the massive air battle and fumbled, but now they had fully organized themselves, launching well-coordinated formations and tactical dogfighting. The Uranos squadrons were known for their ferocity and emphasis on individual prowess, but the elite guard protecting the capital was a disciplined, powerful air force. And with the inclusion of reserve fighters, their numbers were nearly ten times greater than Kiyoaki’s side. While they were already giving their all, the enemy still had vast resources in reserve. If they didn’t overwhelm the enemy soon, every passing minute would make the situation more desperate.

More of their own were falling.

Outnumbered and outclassed, the creeping sense of despair was palpable. That oppressive atmosphere weighed on the pilots, threatening to decide the outcome of the battle. If they didn’t break through this dreadful air soon, the fight would be lost.

“Stop hiding. Show yourself, Ortega.”

Amidst the chaotic swarm of aircraft, Kiyoaki searched for that distinctive jet. The sun was now positioned high in the southern sky, casting a bright, transparent light over the battlefield. It was like looking up from the depths of the sea at a school of fish, the sun illuminating the swarm of fighters as Kiyoaki scanned the sky.

An abnormal presence, something that stood out from the rest, would eventually reveal itself. It couldn’t hide forever. Kiyoaki’s sharp instincts detected a disturbance in the air.

Black rose.

The smell of blood, or something close to it, began to permeate the upper atmosphere. It was a sensation that tugged at Kiyoaki’s nerves, even though he knew it was just a trick of his mind. That ominous crimson hue began staining one, then two friendly planes.

He’s coming.

“Let’s go, Illia!!”

Kiyoaki opened the throttle, speeding towards the black rose-coloured presence. Illia followed him without hesitation. Even though she couldn’t see anything yet, she didn’t doubt Kiyoaki for a second. Her trust in him radiated through the air they shared.

Their Beo-strike and Ikaruga planes formed a tight, two-plane formation, covering each other as they inverted their dive from an altitude of 6,500 meters, looking up at the ground that now lay overhead.

He’s there…!

Amid the chaotic melee of friendly and enemy aircraft, there it was—a monster spitting fire, its enormous engine power and heavy weaponry carving through the battlefield like a giant dragon.

The only way to fight this is a high-altitude dive!

The only way to compensate for the weaker engine was to use the advantage of high altitude and attack from above. That way, they wouldn’t be outrun. With the plan set in his mind, Kiyoaki dove his plane downward, almost completely inverted, diving headlong toward the enemy.

At 4,000 meters, the upper surface of Ortega’s plane, which was hunting a friendly aircraft, grew larger in Kiyoaki’s view. The enemy hadn’t noticed him yet, too focused on chasing its prey.

Got you.

Just as Kiyoaki was sure of his strike, the Ortega finally realized his approach and opened the throttle, accelerating horizontally. Kiyoaki pulled his controls hard, making minute adjustments to stay on target during the dive.

He wouldn’t lose speed. He was chasing with the momentum of the dive. There was no way an Ortega could outrun him now.

But.

The Ortega’s silhouette grew smaller.

Despite diving at near-breakup speed, the Ortega simply opened the throttle and, without needing to dive, pulled away.

Kiyoaki’s targeting reticle was empty—the Ortega was gone.

Stunned, Kiyoaki heard Illia’s voice cut through his shock.

“Right rear!!”

He turned to see another Ortega jet closing in fast on his right flank.

“Damn…!”

Instinctively, Kiyoaki hit the foot bar, skidding his plane sideways. The flames from the Ortega’s guns roared past, narrowly missing him. The Ortega passed him by and shifted focus to another target.

This is impossible!

As expected, the difference in performance was overwhelming. In terms of speed, firepower, and climbing ability, the Ortega jets were in a league of their own. While Kiyoaki’s planes had superior manoeuvrability, that advantage was meaningless. The Ortega jets could simply use their speed to circle wide and get behind them.

There was no way to chase them, and no way to escape. This wasn’t a battlefield—it was the Ortega’s hunting ground.

“Damn it, I can’t shake him!!”

Over the radio, Valkyrie pilot Rebrant’s panicked voice echoed. He was being pursued by the Ortega jet that had overtaken Kiyoaki, and he was trapped.

“Skid! You can’t outrun them with speed!!”

Kiyoaki shouted. Rebrant, a veteran pilot with countless victories, knew this, and began shifting his plane from side to side, trying to throw off the Ortega’s aim.

The Ortega was throttling down, adjusting his speed to make the kill. Just as Lala had warned them…

“Right!!”

Kiyoaki shouted. Rebrant veered hard to the right. The Ortega’s six 20mm guns spat fire.

The lethal stream of bullets shredded Rebrant’s left wing to pieces, obliterating it entirely.

“Rebrant!!”

“This is your chance! Get him, everyone!!”

Rebrant’s final words echoed through the speaker as his plane, missing a wing, spiralled downward. Kiyoaki cried out.

“He’s throttling down! Take him out!”

Kiyoaki maneuverer behind the Ortega, aligning his sights. The distance closed to 300 meters.

Just a bit closer…!

Rebrant had given his life for this chance. Kiyoaki couldn’t let it slip away.

But then—

“Above!!”

Illia’s warning came just in time. Kiyoaki looked up and saw three Alice Actus planes diving towards them, taking advantage of his focus on the Ortega.

Damn it. Damn it. Damn it…!

With bitter frustration, Kiyoaki skidded his plane out of the path of their bullets, narrowly dodging the attack. In that moment, the Ortega opened his throttle and effortlessly pulled away, seeking out a new target with complete confidence.

The next victim of the demon king’s gaze was Sanatra, the eldest of the Valkyries.

In no time, the Ortega had taken position behind Sanatra. Over the speaker came the familiar, confident voice.

“I’ll be the bait. Take the shot when the Ortega throttles down. I’m counting on you!”

“Sanatra…!!”

"Teamwork is our weapon! That’s all we’ve got!!"

"…Yes!! …I understand, but…!!"

What that really meant was using Sanatra as a sacrificial pawn to bring down the Ortega.

'This guy is Akmed’s killer. We’ll take him down, Valkyrie will take him down!'

Sanatra had never hidden her feelings for Akmed, and the other members had often teased her about it. After Akmed was shot down by the Scorpions, Sanatra had been putting on a brave face to encourage the others, but Kiyoaki knew she was hurting more than anyone else.

Sanatra had always been kind to newcomers like Kiyoaki and Illia, and it was thanks to her that Kiyoaki could now lead as a commander in this air battle.

Because of that...

"I will shoot him down, I swear...!!"

"Leave it to you, Captain Sakagami!!"

Sanatra shouted as she glanced back.

The Ortega was now so close that she could see the pilot’s face.

He had the look of an overconfident brat, grinning as he enjoyed chasing Sanatra down.

"Come on, you little punk!"

Sanatra deliberately slowed her plane, baiting him.

The Ortega matched her move, throttling down as well.

If he fired now, there would be no avoiding it. But Sanatra trusted her comrades. Even if she died here, they would avenge her. She knew Kiyoaki and Illia would take down this hateful enemy, avenging both her and Akmed.

"Everyone, win this! You must win!!"

In her final moment, Sanatra shouted into the communicator.

Vulcan cannons fired from point-blank range, tearing apart her plane and her body into fragments.

Just before she was consumed by the sky, Sanatra saw Kiyoaki and Illia closing in at a deadly range and smiled.

Look, my comrades, the best I could ask for, will avenge me.

"Uooooooooo!!"

At the same time Sanatra’s plane turned into a blazing flower, Kiyoaki roared and fired the 37mm cannon at the Ortega. The heavy weapon, capable of obliterating even a large bomber, struck the Ortega dead-on.

The demon king shattered.

The jet, which wasn’t supposed to be vulnerable to propeller planes, exploded into pieces, sending a violent burst of fire and debris through the sky. The cigar-shaped engines, torn from the wings, spiralled away, leaving trails of white smoke.

"I got him!!"

Kiyoaki’s declaration was met with the roaring cheers of his comrades.

Everyone had heard Sanatra’s last words. They had received her soul.

'Jets aren’t invincible! We’ll win, for Sanatra!!'

The call came from Kandata, Sanatra’s long-time partner. Tears were in his voice as he shouted, not hiding his grief, rallying the others with uncharacteristic emotion.

"Ortega, below left!!"

Illia’s voice echoed. Looking down, Kiyoaki saw another Ortega rising up from beneath him.

"Leave it to me!!"

Kandata responded. The fury from watching Sanatra’s death burned in him. Kandata, the senior pilot of the Valkyries, was their "teacher," the one who had helped Akmed make the Valkyries the best. Kiyoaki and Illia had both looked up to Kandata, learning their aerial skills from him. A gentle giant with a soft-spoken demeanour, Kandata was the quiet pillar of strength for the team.

Now, Kandata would sacrifice himself, just as Sanatra had. He knew this was the only way to bring down the Ortegas—someone had to be the bait, offering their life so the others could finish the job.

"Kandata!!"

Kiyoaki shouted.

'I’m counting on you, Captain Sakagami. You can do this. You can carry our hopes…!!'

Kandata’s voice came through the communicator. Kiyoaki watched as Kandata slowed his plane, with the Ortega adjusting his moves in response.

'Win, everyone!!'

Swinging his plane side to side, Kandata shouted one last time.

In the next moment, the Ortega closed the gap and unleashed a stream of fire, engulfing Kandata’s plane in flames.

At that precise moment, Kiyoaki and Illia, from opposite sides, both locked the Ortega into their sights. Their blurred vision focused on the Ortega jet.

There was no time to grieve.

The 37mm cannon slammed into the Ortega’s cockpit.

The Scorpion pilot, eyes wide, looked up and made eye contact with Kiyoaki.

In the next instant, he was disintegrated, reduced to nothing within a cloud of flames.

Kiyoaki and Illia burst through the fire, raising their noses and howling in unison.

"Kandata!! Sanatra!! I won’t forget you!! I’ll never forget you!!"

With the sacrifice of Valkyrie’s twin pillars, they had taken down two Ortega jets. Kiyoaki held on to the prayers Kandata and Sanatra had left behind.

Surely, Kandata and Sanatra, alongside Akmed, were watching over them from heaven, praying for their victory.

Only one Ortega remained.

If they could take it down, the entire tide of the battle would turn.

"You’ve gotta be kidding me… no way."

The last remaining Scorpion, seeing his two companions shot down, was stunned. He never imagined that while piloting the Ortega jets, they would be defeated by propeller planes.

"Hey, come on! This is a joke, right? Answer me!!"

He called out, but there was no response from the speakers. No matter how many times he called, the familiar banter didn’t return.

"This isn’t funny, guys. I get it, okay? Stop screwing around. It’s not fun anymore."

Even in his anger, there was no answer.

They were dead. Shot down by the enemy planes. He’d even seen who’d done it.

"The Black Rabbit… and the White Wolf."

He lifted his head. The loss of his two friends, who had flown alongside him since they’d joined, ignited a fire in his soul.

"I’ll avenge you."

Resolute, he opened the throttle on his Ortega. He charged into the enemy formation, spraying Vulcan cannon fire and immediately obliterating two nearby planes in a hail of explosions.

"I’ll kill them all. The Ortega can do that much."

Fuelled by rage, he accelerated, climbing rapidly, diving, and tearing through enemy planes with overwhelming firepower.

One plane leaped in front of him, sacrificing itself just as his two friends had. It slowed down, hoping to bait him into the same trap.

"Die, trash."

This time, he didn’t throttle down. He maintained full speed, blasting through his foe with every cannon he had. The enemy plane shattered helplessly as he shot past, cutting through the azure sky.

"I won’t fall for the same trick twice, idiots. You’ll never get me again."

He had learned. His two friends had been shot down because they throttled down to match their enemies. He wouldn’t make that mistake again. The Ortega’s greatest weapon was its speed, and as long as he didn’t slow down, no one could bring him down. His friends had just been playing around too much.

"I’m the strongest. I’m the king. The king of the sky."

Climbing to 7,500 meters with pure engine power, the Ortega gleamed in the sunlight as it looked down on the battlefield below. No enemy plane could follow him. One was trying, but the higher it climbed, the slower it became.

"Pathetic. You think you can oppose me? I’ll kill you."

He narrowed his eyes on the ascending enemy plane. It was a Beo-strike—the White Wolf.

Illia Kreischmidt. He’d seen her face in enemy magazines many times—a strong, yet pitifully beautiful ace pilot.

"I’ll bring you down too. You dared defy the king. I’ll turn you into minced meat."

The Ortega twisted in the air, its jet engine howling at 7,000 meters.

In an instant, he closed the gap with Illia, firing head-on. Illia rolled smoothly, passing through the centre of his fire.

"Damn…!"

As the Ortega passed her, Illia’s shots grazed his plane. The impact threw him off balance.

"This woman…!!"

"It pissed him off. Illia had just sped past, soaring into the high sky. There's no way you're getting away. I'll kill you with my own hands."

The Scorpion pushed the control stick forward, chasing after Illia as she climbed. With the jet engine roaring in full throttle, he closed in on her within moments.

At an altitude of 8,000 meters, the performance difference between the engines became increasingly apparent. Up here, he could toy with her before killing her.

"Die! Die already!"

The Scorpion, completely absorbed, relentlessly pursued Illia, never easing the throttle as he overtook her again and again, raining bullets down on her. Illia skilfully dodged each barrage, shifting her aircraft just enough to evade the shots. The Scorpion, undeterred, continued targeting Illia exclusively, passing her, looping around, and then taking position behind her to attack again.

At last, flames erupted from Illia's aircraft.

A long trail of smoke followed her, billowing from the engine in the front. One of the bullets must have grazed it.

The Scorpion licked his lips. Just a little more—soon, this woman would fall. Akmed, Leo, the twins, and now Illia. The name of the one who downed all of them would spread across the Archipelago.

Suddenly, he realized that in the course of the chase, their altitude had dropped. Below them stretched the vast surface of Pleiades. Somehow, they had ended up directly above the city. Illia, wounded and struggling, pulled up at the last moment, skimming the ground.

She was trying to use the uneven terrain to make it harder for him to follow. Hoping he might crash into a building or the side of a mountain, she executed last-second manoeuvres, changing course just before hitting obstacles—a high-level technique, even while injured.

The Scorpion delighted in chasing her. Illia's desperation thrilled him. He would toy with her, torment her, and finally tear her apart until there was nothing left...

"Damn it...! Illia, where are you?! Illia!"

Kiyoaki frantically called into his communicator. Swarmed by a horde of Alice Actus, he had completely lost sight of Illia. After downing two of the Ortega jets, it seemed like the enemy had made "Down the Black Rabbit!" their rallying cry, relentlessly pursuing him. In the chaos, Illia had disappeared without him realizing it. He couldn’t spot the last Ortega jet either.

"Get out of my way! Stop interfering!"

Cursing, Kiyoaki rolled his aircraft, forcing the enemy into his line of fire before unleashing a volley. As the enemy exploded into a cloud of black smoke, the sight of the Pleiades’ surface came into view below.

—Pleiades…! Mio is here!

Kiyoaki scanned the terrain below, confirming the layout of the capital city.

It resembled Odin, yet a closer look revealed a city on a completely different scale, with grand towers and military installations of unmatched size. The roads and city infrastructure were meticulously designed, visible from above.

He could see two of the four airfields. According to the information Mio had provided, the airfield for fighter squadrons, Isochronus Airfield, was located behind the left bank of the city, and the bomber squadron's Kisaro Airfield was on the right. If they could neutralize the planes taking off from these airfields, the battle would suddenly swing in their favour.

Surveying the sky over Pleiades, he saw fighter jets were in the air, but the bombers hadn’t taken off yet. It was too dangerous for them to launch during an air raid, so for now, the bombers were holding back, waiting for an opportunity. If Kiyoaki's fighter squadron weakened, the bombers would launch and turn Odin into a sea of fire. At that point, the fate of the war would be sealed.

"Illia, where are you?!"

He shouted again. In the distance, an enormous palace loomed. It was an overly grand and complex structure, as if designed by an architect with a flair for excess.

This was the Ulysses Palace, the centre of power.

According to the information Mio had leaked, the supreme commander of the Uranos military, Demetri, was here.

The final goal of this operation was to capture Demetri. That’s where the enemy’s will originated. In other words, this palace was the end of their journey…

Just then, Kiyoaki spotted a long trail of black smoke.

Behind the palace, over a vast garden, a damaged Beo-Strike was limping away, pursued mercilessly by the Ortega.

"Illia!"

Kiyoaki shouted and opened the throttle, speeding towards her. The anti-aircraft fire erupted, but he ignored it, flying straight ahead.

"You're late... Sakagami…"

Finally, Illia’s voice came through the speaker, her tone heavy with exhaustion and pain.

"Illia, hang on, I’ll take this guy down!"

Kiyoaki accelerated. Illia had chosen to use the intricate architecture of the palace as a shield, weaving between the main building, the cathedral behind it, and the outlying pavilions and museums scattered around the vast garden.

"I’ll act as bait. I’ll slow down, and while he’s distracted, you…"

Illia’s plan instantly conjured the memory of Sanatra and Kandata’s final moments in Kiyoaki’s mind.

That couldn’t happen again.

"Don’t give up, we can still win!"

"This is our only chance. Just one opportunity."

Kiyoaki could see Illia’s speed dropping. She was deliberately slowing down to make the Ortega ease off the throttle—forcing him to match her speed.

With enough speed, Illia could shift her aircraft to evade the bullets. But at this slower pace, her movements were sluggish, and dodging from behind was nearly impossible. This was how Sanatra and Kandata had died. They had deliberately slowed to neutralize the Ortega’s speed.

Illia was about to do the same thing.

Kiyoaki’s soul screamed.

"Stop it, Illia!!"

His voice literally tore his throat, blood surging as he shouted. True screams, it seemed, came with blood.

Through the speaker, Illia’s voice returned.

"This is fine."

It was a voice too quiet for the battlefield.

Kiyoaki’s instincts rang the loudest alarm of his life.

Illia’s words before they took off echoed in his mind, triggering the dreaded superstition of the battlefield.

"Don’t give up, Illia!!"

Roaring, Kiyoaki flew straight past the Ulysses Palace.

Ahead, the tail of the Ortega’s aircraft loomed. Just beyond it, Illia, seemingly drained of all energy, was gradually slowing down.

At this rate, she wouldn’t be able to dodge…!

"Mio is waiting for you. I saw her on the palace balcony, calling your name."

What are you talking about, Illia…?!

"Thank you. I have no regrets. I’m glad I met you."

The Ortega’s claws were raised, about to strike Illia.

He wasn’t going to make it. All Kiyoaki could do was scream.

"Don’t end it on your own, you fool!!"

With all his might, with every ounce of strength, Kiyoaki poured his soul into his furious scream.

"Open the throttle!! You idiot!!"

Just this once—God, please—if you could possess this idiot woman’s left arm, if just for a second, to let her open the throttle a little. I don’t care if the rest of my life is misery, just save her now.

"Do you even know how to open the throttle, you idiot?!"

At that moment—

It was as if Illia smiled.

The Beo-Strike, which had been slowing down, accelerated—just slightly.

The Ortega spat out a torrent of flames.

The fire grazed Illia's wing.

The tip of her left wing was torn off, and Illia’s aircraft lurched violently.

“Graaahhh!!”

With a beastly roar, Kiyoaki seized the moment and positioned himself directly behind the Ortega.

“You? You dare to touch her?!”

He screamed, barely sane, blood spilling from his throat as he gripped the triggers of every gun simultaneously.

In that very moment when the Scorpion thought he had torn off the White Wolf's wing, he suddenly felt both "heat" and "cold" pressing on his back.

It was an indescribable sensation, as if his spine was set ablaze while simultaneously being crushed by a massive block of ice.

Feeling something he'd never experienced before, he glanced behind him—and there it was.

The Scorpion locked eyes with "it."

Ah… A groan escaped his lips.

—I shouldn’t have opposed this.

His soul understood at that moment.

—I’m going to die.

—Because I defied this… I’m going to die now.

It was something far greater—a being that seemed to embody the collective spirit of every aviator who had ever flown these skies, condensed into a human form. And it was now bearing down on him, spear of fire in hand, ready to strike.

Seeing it, the Scorpion’s very soul began to weep.

He wept for his foolishness, realizing too late the gravity of his mistake. He understood that death was inevitable.

—If I had known… I never would have defied this.

It was too late now. Riding a jet had made him overconfident, and in doing so, he had angered "it."

—Are you… the one?

“The King of the Skies.”

The flaming spear pierced the Scorpion's back. He arched violently, staring up at the heavens, where he saw the fiery illusion of the king, burning bright.

The shattered remains of the Ortega slammed against the front canopy.

Kiyoaki felt no joy, no satisfaction. The jet had been nothing more than an obstacle, easily swept aside. He simply accepted the inevitable outcome and then quickly positioned himself behind the one he truly cared about.

"Illia!!"

Trailing thick black smoke, Illia’s aircraft tilted and began losing altitude, heading towards the back of the Ulysses Palace.

The speaker crackled.

"My engine’s shot. I can’t climb. I’ll have to make an emergency landing..."

"Illia! Illia! ILLLIIAAA!!"

"Calm down, don’t worry. I’ll be fine. This garden is wide enough..."

Kiyoaki’s eyes were fixed on Illia's movements. Just as she said, behind the palace was a sprawling, flat garden, almost like a runway.

"I’ve heard some amusing shouts from you. I’ll be questioning you about them later—so come get me."

Illia's calm words finally brought Kiyoaki back to himself. He had probably said some pretty outrageous things, but as long as Illia was alive, that was all that mattered.

"Win and come to me. I’ll handle things here."

With that, Illia brought the underbelly of her Beo-Strike down onto the palace grounds. Thanks to the well-maintained garden, there were no obstacles, and she successfully executed the emergency landing. Kiyoaki circled above, watching the scene below. He saw palace guards running towards her from the distance. Capture was unavoidable, but for now, she was alive.

“I’ll definitely come for you! I’ll win this air battle, and I’ll be there—I promise!”

On the ground, Illia opened her canopy, raising her hands to show no resistance. The guards surrounded her, their guns drawn, taking her into custody.

Though she was captured, Illia was safe. If Kiyoaki could shoot down the rest of the enemy aircraft and then land at the palace, there wouldn’t be a problem.

Turning his gaze back to the sky, Kiyoaki steeled himself.

He would save her. He swore to it as he plunged back into the swarm of Alice Actus. The air battle had to end, and soon, so he could reach the palace...

—Mio was here, too.

Illia's earlier words echoed in his mind. That meant that both Mio and Illia were now held captive in Ulysses Palace…

"The Ortega jets are gone! We can do this, we can win!!" "Yeah! It’s a tough fight, but we knew that going in!" "Don’t give up, everyone! Our strength is in our teamwork—don’t forget your formation flying!!"

Voices of encouragement came through the communicator. They had overcome the massive wall that was the Ortega jets, but numerous other obstacles still stood in their way.

No matter how many they shot down, the numbers of the Alice Actus didn’t seem to diminish. Fresh reinforcements kept pouring in. Their source was Isochronus Airfield, not far from Ulysses Palace. The strong enemy air cover guarding the airfield allowed the reinforcements to take off safely and join the battle. The rate at which new planes entered the fray far outpaced the number of enemy aircraft they could shoot down.

On the other hand, they had lost Leo, Lulu, Sanatra, and Kandata, with both Lala and Illia rendered unable to continue fighting. Losing so many aces was a serious blow to their forces. Valkyrie Squadron and Voltec Air Squadron had both lost their top leaders, who had always spearheaded their efforts.

But succumbing to despair wasn’t an option. If they gave in, that would be the moment of defeat.

Kiyoaki lifted his gaze. Crossing over the mountain range that ran through the centre of Pleiades, he reached the airspace above the right bank, where the bomber airfield, Kisaro Airfield, was located. He confirmed that no bombers had yet taken off, grabbed his microphone, and rallied his allies.

“Never give up! Claim victory! This isn’t just about us—it’s for everyone living in the Archipelago, for everyone living on the ground! We must control this sky! That’s our mission, the role given to us by the heavens! Every bit of training, every effort we’ve made, was all for this moment!”

Kiyoaki’s impassioned cry was met with an echoing roar from his comrades. They all knew it without needing to be told: this battle was about more than just the soldiers in the sky—it was about the fate of the world. The future of billions of people on Earth rested on this fight.

“Fight! Don’t fear death, burn your souls to the very end!” “Let’s show them our pride! If each of us takes down ten of them, we can win!” “Victory for us!” “Victory for us!”

The same cheers that had risen during Elisabeth’s speech now echoed once more across the sky. No one was giving up. Each pilot was reaching for the sliver of light that remained, using every ounce of their strength to spread that light across the entire sky.

And then, a glimmer of hope answered their prayers.

A single aircraft, bathed in light, passed over Kiyoaki’s head.

Looking up at the underside of the plane, Kiyoaki let out a soft sigh of relief. Yes, that person was flying in the same sky.

—We can’t lose.

Just having that person in the sky filled everyone with confidence.

The one who came from the distant sea—“The King of the Skies.”

“Seagull,” Kiyoaki whispered the name, his voice filled with hope.

Seagull wasn’t flying with the group. For some reason, he was moving alone. He skilfully provoked his pursuing enemies, dodging their attacks with ease before calmly shooting them down, one by one. He was clearly acting with a specific strategy in mind. Kiyoaki recalled that before the sortie, Seagull had mentioned wanting to take on a large force by himself.

Here on the right bank of Pleiades, there were barely any allied aircraft left. Only enemy planes surrounded them. A lesser pilot wouldn’t have survived long in this airspace, but Seagull could handle it, even if he was surrounded by enemies.

“I’m counting on you, Seagull.”

At Kiyoaki’s words, Seagull gracefully dipped the wing of his Aires V, tilting his aircraft as he plunged into the enemy formation.

There’s no need to let emotions run high. Simply cast away all unnecessary thoughts and focus on maintaining a clear mind, just like this sky, while sensing every object present in the surrounding airspace.

Then, always react to the killing intent directed at you.

With eyes wide open, Kiyoaki sent his mental awareness across the entire combat zone. By keeping his focus simultaneously on the immediate situation and on the battlefield from a higher perspective, he could detect any danger that might arise.

Seagull was flying gracefully through a sky filled with fire, black smoke, and scattered metal debris, just like he always did.

Not a single bullet hit Seagull. Every bullet he fired found its target.

He repeated this process over and over. Eventually, the enemy forces began to realize something was wrong.

Something abnormal was flying through this sky—something that, as if performing routine work, was taking down each of their planes one by one, disassembling them, and tossing the wreckage aside before moving on to the next.

Before long, the enemy pilots caught sight of the "Seagull" nose art on the front of his aircraft. Seagull continued his provocatively graceful manoeuvres, shooting down one enemy after another.

As if by instinct, the enemy forces, realizing they couldn’t get close to him without being shot down, began flying in a circular pattern around him, never daring to approach directly. The enemy pilots who failed to recognize this danger foolishly moved in and became part of Seagull’s dismantling conveyor belt.

A void began to form around Seagull.

Cantered around him, enemy aircraft spun in a vortex, unable to close in. Whoever tried would be shot down.

The longer it continued, the more an "empty space" opened up where Seagull flew. It was a cylindrical hole, about 500 meters in radius, with walls formed by enemy aircraft circling around him, exchanging uneasy glances, waiting for someone brave enough to dive in. They resembled soldiers hesitating to engage a master swordsman.

Seagull had anticipated this, which is why he was acting alone.

By taunting and drawing the enemy’s massive formation to the right bank of Pleiades, he was easing the burden on the Odin fighter squadron, which was fighting against ten times their numbers. This manoeuvre would give their main forces, who were about to engage above Isolos Airfield on the left bank, a decisive advantage.

Now, over the right bank of Pleiades, Seagull flew calmly and majestically, glaring at the surrounding enemy forces.

Sensing fresh reinforcements approaching, he calmly sliced through the reckless, brave enemy pilots who dared to challenge him, cutting them down with a single stroke.

At the same time, Seagull was seized by a strange feeling.

Since earlier, there had been a scent in the air.

A familiar scent he had encountered only once before, in this very sky—an opponent he would never meet again.

No matter how much he had chased after that back, he would never catch up to the man, an unparalleled pilot.

The true "King of the Skies."

Somehow, even now, Seagull felt that presence.

—It’s similar to that day.

The memory of the naval battle off Awa Island, where the overwhelmingly superior Levamme Empire Navy had been crushed by the Amatsukami Imperial Navy’s forces, less than one-tenth their size, flashed across Seagull’s mind. It was a scene that had left an indelible mark on him.

There had been one man flying calmly amid the chaos of 300 enemy planes.

One win, two losses. The only opponent who had ever bested Seagull.

He had fought a one-on-one duel with this man and lost. Twice. The Ismael Turn, which Seagull had mastered twice, was countered by this man, who completed it three times. Before and since, Seagull had never been defeated in a duel, except by this man.

But he would never catch up to him again. After their final duel, the man had sunk into the sea, taking the Bardo Mobile Fleet with him.

Perhaps the reason Seagull was still flying in battles like this was for a chance to meet that man again. He didn’t know what he would do if that happened—whether he wanted to shoot him down or fly alongside him. It was a dream that could never be fulfilled, so he never thought beyond that.

—It’s a ridiculous sentiment.

Such thoughts had no place on this battlefield, Seagull told himself, slicing through the approaching enemies.

And yet, his soul felt it.

Was it because this situation mirrored that battle so closely?

That man was here. He was flying in this sky.

The whirring sound of high-pitched propellers snapped Seagull’s attention.

Startled, Seagull turned toward the sound.

There it was—a single aircraft.

A pitch-black machine with a rear-mounted propeller.

It was exactly as he remembered—the Shinden Kai.

Cutting through the mass of enemy aircraft, the Shinden Kai flew straight toward Seagull. As if it were the most natural thing in the world, the two planes formed a tight formation, side by side.

That familiar scent tickled Seagull’s nose.

And without realizing it, his vision blurred.

So it was true. You’re still flying here, in this sky.

Flying just ahead of him, the Shinden Kai turned slightly. Seagull called out.

“Chijiwa Takeo.”

Seagull’s long-time rival and dearest friend glanced back from the cockpit and grinned.

—Still flying, huh?

Through the sky, "Mad Dog" Chijiwa Takeo’s voice seemed to reach Seagull.

“Yes. You got away without finishing our duel.”

—It’ll end the same way no matter how many times we try.

“Next time, I’ll win.”

—If you think that’s true, then train this kid up for me.

“Yes. I’m training him to take revenge on you.”

—You’re a persistent bastard. Well then, let’s take these guys down.

“Let’s go together.”

—Never thought I’d be flying alongside you in this sky.

“I’m overwhelmed with emotion. I’ve kept flying all this time for this moment.”

Seagull spoke from his heart. Tears welled up in his eyes.

To think he would one day fly alongside this man.

His long-cherished idol, the Mad Dog, was now flying beside him, sharing the sky in a battle that would decide the fate of the world.

There was no way they could lose.

“Let’s go, Seagull.”

“Let’s go, Beagle!”

Responding to his old friend’s call, Seagull opened the throttle, letting his tears flow freely as they soared into the fray.

Enemies surrounded him on all sides, forming a wall of aircraft.

He had never seen anything like it. A massive number of enemy planes created a giant cylindrical formation in the sky, and he was at the centre of it.

His only ally was Seagull, flying solo.

It was an utterly hopeless situation by any measure—yet somehow, Yoshioka Takeo felt unnervingly calm.

It was as if he had been in this kind of situation before.

And, strangely enough, he was absolutely certain that there was no way he would be shot down by these enemies.

It was an odd, almost surreal feeling.

But deep down, Takeo understood what this phenomenon meant.

As he gripped the control stick of the Shinden Kai and looked out at the sky, he realized why he loved flying so much—because up here, he could always feel the presence of the father he had never met.

Takeo’s father, Chijiwa Takeo, had died in battle before he was born.

The only stories he knew about his father came from his mother, Yuki Yoshioka, who had shared them with him countless times.

His beautiful mother would always gaze into the distance with nostalgia whenever she spoke of his father. Then, she would fill the air with curses, calling him a fool, selfish, a promise-breaker. She would vent her anger for a while, and afterward, without fail, she would silently embrace Takeo with a tenderness that conveyed more than words could.

Through those embraces, Takeo had always felt his father’s presence, his warmth.

And now, in this sky, he was feeling that same warmth.

The great presence of his father, which he had always sensed through his mother, was with him now.

His father’s essence had seeped into every fibre of his being, guiding his hands, his eyes, and even his feet, as if this battlefield were nothing more than a familiar home. Takeo understood this instinctively, without needing to explain it logically.

“Dad,” he called out.

His hands tightened on the control stick as if on their own. His toes flexed, causing the aircraft to sway slightly. He could feel his father in his arms, his legs, his heart—his father, Chijiwa Takeo, was flying with him.

Chijiwa Takeo was here, gripping the control stick with him, staring down the horde of monstrous enemy planes.

“Let’s go, Seagull.”

The words burst from Takeo’s mouth without him realizing it.

“Let’s go, Beagle!!”

Seagull’s tear-choked reply came through the speaker.

Takeo dove headfirst into the swarm of enemies. He spotted a weakness in their formation and, without hesitation, threw himself into it, pushing that opening wider as he flew. When he got within striking distance of his target, he found himself whispering words he didn’t recognize:

“Sure-kill for the unseen enemy.”

A flash from the 20mm machine guns cut through the sky. The enemy plane was split in two, scattering blood and flames like petals across the azure heavens. Takeo offered a quiet farewell to his fallen foe.

“Rest in peace.”

Then he continued to fly.

He was carving a path through the blood-soaked sky.

No one could stop him. No one could resist.

And flying beside him was Seagull.

His one true rival.

The only friend who loved the sky as much as he did and who was loved by the sky in return.

Flying alongside you like this, I must thank Yuki for that.

Now, let’s go, Takeo.

I’m always with you.

Flying with you, through this sky...