The guards stationed on the mansion’s roof and the surrounding watchtowers watched in utter confusion as the vessel approached. With the sun practically blinding them, few of the guards would’ve recognized a ship to begin with—but this ship was rushing toward them not from the sea, but the air.
“All right, let’s do this,” Captain Elmer declared from the bridge.
Many nodded silently in response. They understood the procedure perfectly. He took a deep breath, then shouted into the speaking tube beside him.
“Now performing a steep dive! All hands, hold on to something!” He took another deep breath. “Markdorf, engage!”
Voices answered him.
“Reaching maximum speed in ten seconds.”
“Slide deployed on the deck as well.”
“Maximum barrier deployment to the bow!”
Anyone in the surrounding countryside would’ve seen what looked like a hawk nose-diving down at the city of Lune—except this hawk was much, much larger.
The twin sisters grumbled on the bridge.
“It’s a rough ride, no matter how many times we’ve been through it.”
“I don’t think I’ll ever get used to it.”
But at least they could still speak.
Inertia had pushed the helmsman, Zasha, deep into his chair. He clutched the steering wheel tightly, knowing the success or failure of this dive depended on his abilities.
“Distance to target, less than a thousand meters,” reported Anne, a former scout and now a first-class aviator and patrol officer.
Captain Elmer used that information to give instructions, which were another factor in their maneuver’s success or failure.
“Distance, five hundred... Four hundred... Three hundred!”
“Oscar, fire!” Elmer shouted into the speaking tube.
At that moment, a salvo of over a hundred fire bolts exploded from near the ship’s prow. The barrage swept across Margrave Lune’s manor house, knocking the guards on the rooftop and watchtowers off their feet.
At the same time, Zasha pulled the steering wheel and engaged the reverse thrusters. The shock of the sudden stop hit everyone, but their superior gave them no time to recover.
A door opened on one side of the Markdorf, revealing the rooftop of the second annex of the manor house. At the same time, the voice of Hartmut Barthel, one of the Twelve Knights, echoed throughout the ship:
“Charge!”
Immediately, Hartmut rushed forward, Fiona and Marie following close behind. Then came ten members of the Imperial Magic Division and the hundred Eighth Imperial Regiment soldiers on loan for this operation. Ten more magicians emerged after them, and finally, Oscar jumped down from the deck to join them.
“We’re going to secure the box and Baron Kenneth Hayward!” he shouted.
Then they all raced off to perform their respective tasks, listening to the gong of bells that had begun to ring throughout the city.
✦ ✦ ✦
Inside the large warehouse of the second annex, several others also heard Lune’s alarm bells begin to ring.
“We’re under attack, eh?” Hugh said idly.
“The Empire sure didn’t waste any time. How the hell did they manage to get here so quickly?” Neville frowned. “Never mind. We have bigger things to worry about right now. This must be their target.”
“Ugggh...” Ryo groaned.
Abel looked at him. “Wanna fill the rest of us in?”
“Well, it’s difficult to tell what’s happening outside from inside this room.”
With his sonar magic, Ryo could analyze information transmitted through the water vapor in the air to detect nearby activities. In a highly secure place like this, with no open windows or doors, it became very difficult to gather information.
Nevertheless, Ryo suddenly blinked. “About a hundred people are heading straight toward us!”
“Damn it! Those imperial bastards must be usin’ magic or alchemy to pinpoint our location,” Hugh said.
“We can’t afford to underestimate them,” Neville grumbled, scowling as he offered the begrudging praise.
Thirty seconds later, the front door of the warehouse opened, and several people rushed in. Simultaneously, three shadowy figures darted out. As the two groups’ paths crossed, muffled cries arose.
And then the three figures—Abel, Hugh, and Neville—returned to their original positions, the invaders incapacitated.
Ryo cocked his head in confusion.
The Princess and another high-ranking officer are here. That’s no surprise, since they’re here to rescue Jurgen. But someone’s missing—a very important someone...
“One person’s not here,” Ryo murmured.
“You talking about the Inferno Magician? If the Princess is here, he should be too, right? Crap, he must be up to something else.”
“Another objective? What else would be worth his attention—”
“...Damn it, the box!”
“The box is with Kenneth!”
The second those words left Ryo’s mouth, he dashed forward so fast that only a single person even saw him. That person stepped into Ryo’s path and—
Klang.
—the water magician parried the imperial knight’s attack with Murasame. Then Ryo surged forward, leaving a fine mist in his wake.
“Well now, I didn’t expect an opponent like him among the enemy,” Hartmut said with a grin. He looked at Fiona. “Did he go that way?”
She shook her head, silently telling him to leave the man to the others.
“Message received, my lady. Then let us retrieve my idiot of a little brother.”
“Your brother?” Hugh muttered.
“His Majesty permitted me to reveal my name during the attack, so I shall. I am Hartmut Barthel, one of the Twelve Knights of the Emperor. And that man lying there unconscious, Jurgen Barthel, is my younger brother.”
His revelation caused a stir.
“The Twelve Knights of the Emperor, huh...” Neville murmured.
“Not only do ya attack His Lordship’s manor, you ain’t even botherin’ to hide yer identities... I take it that means you lot don’t give a rat’s ass if this little skirmish leads to war?” Hugh asked.
“Now, now, don’t be disingenuous. The Kingdom ten years ago might have accepted the challenge, but we both know your government lacks the mettle to engage.” Hartmut taunted him with a smirk. “Tell me I’m wrong.”
Hugh couldn’t offer a rebuttal. Although his expression remained impassive, his thoughts were bitter.
Yer bloody right ’n’ ya know it!
Then Hugh looked around, surveying both friend and foe. “I’m gonna be real honest with ya, lad. I can’t handle one of the Twelve,” he muttered.
“So you want me to do it?” Abel replied. “Do I have that right?”
“I always knew ya were more ’n just a pretty face. I’ll take on the princess. Neville, lead yer knights ’n’ handle the rest.”
“Will do,” Neville said with a nod.
Thus, the warehouse battle moved to the next phase.