While his father Roderick handled the Foundation’s official business and maintained appearances, Meteos returned to the flying boat and spent some time conducting another check on the supplies and equipment he had prepared for the White Lotus’s little adventure in the Gynamo Kingdom. These items were then presented during a meeting in the dining lounge temporarily converted into a conference room, with a magical 3D holographic projector positioned at the head of the table. In addition to the crew from the Middle Lands, among those present were the Levins of the local Holy Empire intelligence branch, Dagded Dujardin of the Seventy, and the new collaborators from the Gynamo Kingdom. Of which the latter two factions seemed to be stunned at the equipment provided from their differing perspectives.
The red-haired Annonrial man standing beside the White Lotus Leader at the head of the room stared at the array of sophisticated gear laid out on the table with widened eyes.
“I can hardly believe it,” Dagded muttered. “Even with the aid from the future, to think Milishial has deciphered the leaked information so quickly… That’s extraordinary.”
“And some!” Dalisay Levin bragged from her seat.
With his mask donned, Meteos (Amon) remarked in response, “We do have our own means of understanding and utilizing technology. It’s only natural that we have to make good use of the resources and knowledge at our disposal. To ensure the success of a mission with high stakes even more so.”
“Hm…”
Dagded thought to himself. ‘The equipment makes extensive use of this ‘pedanium’ material I’ve never heard of before. Could this material be the cornerstone of Milishial’s recent progress? It seems like they’re the only ones who possess it. If this is true, then their speed in advancing their technology level might far exceed what Magicaregia has previously assessed.’
He didn’t know to what extent it would save them yet, but in the event that the Messiah’s regime decided to escalate his game to an open conflict against the world, at least the Holy Milishial Empire possessed something they could rely on.
On the other side of the spectrum in contrast to the calmly analyzing Dagded, a couple of mages and dragoons sent by the Gynamo Kingdom side were absolutely flummoxed at what the White Lotus leadership has brought to the table.
They clamored among themselves.
“This ‘Manadriver’ can turn a nobody into someone as powerful as an Archwizard just by wearing it!?”
“What kind of enemy are your people expected to face that requires these insane trinkets!?”
‘Insane, huh… Good! Then in that case, it’s far from enough. For this world’s sake, we must be even more insane and be better,’ Amon idly thought to himself.
“Maybe an enemy of yore that very much defies common sense, so we too must also defy common sense to fight them properly,” he retorted sarcastically. “Now, if you’ll all settle down…”
The White Lotus Leader waited for the murmurs and whispers to subside before speaking again.
“I intend to maximize the results, since my time on this island isn’t exactly infinite and unfortunately I cannot teleport. I understand that what we’re asking of you may seem… crazy. But I assure you, I wouldn’t ask for it if I didn’t believe in our success. This time’s mission will be carried out primarily by myself, so I ask you to just follow my instructions. Any objections?”
Because the White Lotus’ current assets in the Gynamo Kingdom were merely one step away from being called a hastily assembled disorganized rabble, it was inevitable that until the time came when they could fight properly side-by-side, the heaviest burden in executing Meteos’ designated goal would fall on none other than himself—someone who happened to possess cheat-like abilities. After all, it’s his responsibility to handle the situation he created. These people called him ‘White Lotus Leader’ too. That’s what leaders do, right?
“………”
“……Thank you very much. Alright, the next objective is to seize control of an Annonrial communications station that has been established without the Gynamo Kingdom’s knowledge in its own territory. Mr. Dujardin, you have the floor.”
Dagded nodded and commanded the projection to show the southern part of the Gynamo Kingdom’s archipelago.
“The communications station in question was established on a small uninhabited and unnamed island near the edge of Gynamo Kingdom’s territorial waters according to the Eleven Countries Leadership Conference’s convention on the law of the sea, located 24 kilometers south of the main archipelago. Although a minor one, it is still part of a network of communications infrastructure meant to give the Annonrial submarine fleet full capability to effectively maintain its Absolute Kill Zone—thereby maintaining the myth of the unforgiving southern seas.”
Established with the 13th parallel north as a boundary with the exception of a sea lane toward Bushpaka Latan, any ship that dares to enter Annonrial’s Absolute Kill Zone is mercilessly sunk, no questions asked. This brutal tactic has successfully deterred most from even considering venturing into these waters.
However, now that fear has kept most ships away from the south, their Rahab-class cruiser submarines occasionally hunted for prey beyond this zone. Masking themselves as randomly occurring maritime accidents, these submarines actively seek out unsuspecting vessels, dragging them underwater without warning and having the survivors taken. This hunt is currently the primary means by which the Annonrial Empire acquires human resources for their experimentation. However, with it being out of the quest’s scope this time, the White Lotus pressed on the current issue and waited until it was time.
Even the Levins exchanged uneasy glances at this information.
The island that was their objective was located on the 14th parallel north. The gravity of the situation was beginning to sink in, and the earlier shock at the advanced equipment presented by the White Lotus Leader seemed to pale in comparison to the horror happening so close to their home.
When the projection focused on the island itself, Dagded continued his explanation. “The station is manned by a crew of fifteen. While there are no dedicated mana detectors or conductive magnetic radars, one must remain vigilant as they have up to three sensor mages on duty at all times. These individuals are skilled in detecting magical disturbances and are the first line of defense for the station. And to complicate matters further, the station’s camouflage is enhanced by a glamour spell. This makes it virtually invisible, even though it’s positioned along Gynamo’s aerial patrol route. Unless, you know where to look.”
Hearing the mention of sensor mages, Gira blurted a comment, “Sensor, huh? I guess that’s where the Manadriver tech comes in.”
“Yes.”
Skilled sensor mages are also capable of detecting the gradual buildup of mana when a spell is being cast. However, they may struggle if the buildup itself is effectively instantaneous. In other words, a Manadriver’s function is able to neutralize the sensor mages’ advantage. When they detect any magical disturbance, it will be too late for them to respond.
After Dagded finished explaining, Amon took over.
“Taking out the station entirely would raise immediate suspicion from the Messiah’s regime. They would investigate and likely increase their vigilance, which would complicate our efforts in the long run. Instead, our objective is to use the element of surprise and quietly switch the allegiance of the station’s crew to our side. We will have them continue their duties as if nothing happened, while we latch on their communication network. Even if we were to cause damage, it must be quickly repairable. Under any other pretense, this is an impossible task to do… However, we madmen are exceptions.”
Amon’s declaration was met by chuckles. He then gestured towards the table, where several samples of compact, circular devices lay alongside other pieces of equipment.
“To support this mission, I have created two kinds of devices,” Amon explained, gesturing to display the device with a yellow band on its outer rim on the projector. “The first one is a set of portable jammers. It’s small enough that a wyvern can carry it strapped to its chest, but good enough to disrupt the station’s manacom. This will buy us precious time to neutralize the station.”
The second one was similarly shaped but had a red band.
“You can call the second one a ‘sonic taser.’ To put it simply, it fires pulses that overload the target’s nervous system and cause their entire body to become paralyzed for a dozen minutes. Don’t worry, it also comes with special pairs of ear pieces to filter it out so that you and your mounts will not be affected.”
Due to their nature as devices created by maximizing All for One’s capabilities, magic circuits made from inferior materials would be utterly fried by the overwhelming force of the alien spell. Fortunately, as is increasingly common with gears used by Fate’s Rebel, those contain internal components made of pedanium—the very material of the spell’s home world.
With the presentation concluded, the team settled into a more tactical discussion about the mission. Blue arrows began to appear on the projection.
As the one in charge, Amon outlined the mission plan’s details. “We will be using the earliest wyvern patrol flight. This flight will be equipped with our portable jammers and sonic tasers and will approach the island as if it were a routine patrol. Meanwhile, a separate flight of wyverns will be carrying me. This one will fly at a much lower altitude and stay out of the usual patrol route. As the first flight initiates the jamming and disabling measures, this wyvern will airdrop me onto the island. I will then proceed to neutralize the enemy personnel to complete the mission. I will need mounts that can take off and land vertically, hence I am requesting the Gynamo Kingdom for their elite dragoon units.”
Amon concluded his explanation with a firm nod, readying himself for the incoming questions.
“That’s the gist of it. Are there any questions or objections?”
----------------------------------------
October 13, 1616 Central Calendar, 11:00
Somewhere in the Middle Lands, Holy Milishial Empire
Observing the surroundings, Andreas Birkburn occasionally adjusted the brim of his boonie hat as the relentless glare of the sun continued to stare down upon him. The open area stretched far with heat shimmering off the ground distorting the horizon into a wavering mirage. It was a wasteland as far as the eye could see, but there were occasional manmade structures dotting the dull landscape.
“…Well, well, this is just perfect,” the tall man muttered after taking a sip from a flask. “Feels like we’re in the middle of the Moon of Fire (July), not Moon of Storm (October).”
His subordinate Robin Calvello who accompanied his stroll looked at her boss incredulously, herself looking as if nothing had happened despite wearing her signature long coat and loose scarf.
“Hah? Then why don’t you just use your magic to cool yourself down?” she asked.
“I am,” Birkburn chuckled sheepishly. “I’m just commenting on this… wooon~derful weather.”
A sly grin spread across Robin’s face. “Oh, I see what this is. Are you practicing your charm, boss? Trying to woo some poor lass with all this sudden talk about the weather?”
“Yes, yes, I’m lonely at the top and all that, continue to rub it in my face.”
Robin let out a soft laugh, “I swear to Astarte, you’re just too easy to tease.”
The boss paused. His expression shifted to one of mild confusion as he tilted his head while looking at Robin.
“I’m sorry?”
“Huh? What is it…?”
“Oh, I must’ve spaced out. Who did you just swear to?”
Her grin faltered as she also paused and wracked her brain. It was on the tip of her tongue, but the harder she tried to recall it, the more it slipped away.
“Uh… I…” taken aback by the unusually intense inquiry, Robin stammered, stalling for an answer. “I… don’t remember. That’s odd…”
Birkburn watched her with a curious look, but the hint of concern in his eyes didn’t go unnoticed. He felt like he must remember what was just uttered by Robin’s slip of the tongue(?), but after a moment, he dismissed the unbearably strange exchange with a wave of his hand.
“Never mind. Maybe we should just head back.”
Sighing quietly at his invitation, Robin followed Birkburn turning on his heel toward an off-road vehicle parked on the side of the dirt road nearby. Soon, the sand-colored off-roader kicked up dust and cut across the barren terrain back to the direction where the two of them came from.
As they drove, a cluster of large, dull-gray buildings began to loom in the distance. The structures were enormous, sprawling across the land like sleeping behemoths. Despite their impressive width and length, they were surprisingly short, hugging the ground as if trying to stay hidden from the prying eyes.
“Come to think of it, do those buildings try to be unnoticed or not? I started to think that those buildings were built with half-hearted measures.”
“Yeah, that might be true. But that’s hindsight. You couldn’t possibly know back then.”
Amidst the ambient noises, Birkburn on the steering wheel voiced his thoughts with a stiff smile at the view ahead. If he were to be honest with his feelings, he thought that they were doing their job well enough. It was disheartening to realize that their hard work was easily overshadowed by the foreknowledge of what lay ahead, forcing them to make a significant shift in order to remain relevant. However, for the seekers of truth, heartbreak was a small price to pay if they were to endure.
“Well, since it’s impossible to do anything to the buildings at the moment, I really hope the newly installed glamour generators will help mitigate the visibility problems once they’re fully operational.”
The glamour generators—those manmade structures glimpsed earlier, formed a perimeter around the facility. The intention behind the devices’ creation was to project a field of illusion that would cloak the entire facility from unwanted surveillance. To an outside observer, the buildings would seem to vanish, replaced by an unremarkable stretch of wasteland that blended seamlessly with the surrounding terrain. But not content with deceiving the eyes, the creators of these devices still explored ways to make sure that not even detectors could find them. Any detector.
…………
As they returned from their inspection trip of the wasteland, Birkburn and Robin proceeded deep inside the facility where the cool air and bluish artificial light-laden environment was a stark contrast to the blistering heat outside. It was as if they just made a crossing to another world, which in that case was a reassuring sign of the measures done to ensure the crew’s comfort.
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Passing through an automatic sliding door into a straight corridor, they found a figure emerging from the doorway on the other end walking in their direction.
“Ah, Technical Director, we’ve returned.”
This person, a slender elven man whose shoulder-length hair was styled into a neat half-up—a popular look among the men of his kind—paused to offer the pair a small, polite bow in response to the greeting from Birkburn, his superior officer.
“Welcome back. I see that you’ve finished your inspection tour of the outskirts. How do you find our new installations?”
“We’ve noted a few points that I’ll make sure to pass to the Minister later. Now, we wish to head to the bridge.”
“Very well. If you need any assistance, do not hesitate to ask. Have a good day, sir, ma’am.”
With the elven Technical Director acknowledging their request and stepping aside before continuing on his own way, the two reached their destination.
The bridge was circular-shaped, expansive and well-lit though empty, with consoles and screens turned off. Glancing around, taking in the deserted place, Birkburn remarked, “Looks like we have it all to ourselves for now.”
Robin meanwhile sank into one of the console operator’s chairs with a giggle.
“Ancor Vantian, huh…”
“Hmm?”
“Nothing, just talking to myself,” Robin chirped. “But you remember Kid mentions this ship as the one he captained in his future visions, don’t you?”
Realization dawned on Birkburn’s expression. “Oh, I see. Yes, Young Roguerider’s future visions show him captaining a Pal Chimera. Now that I thought about it, which ship he would command is one of the ‘Constants,’ isn’t it?”
“That’s right.”
At present, the White Lotus categorized Meteos Roguerider’s “future visions” into Constants and Variables based on their consistency during the occurrences. Constants were elements or details that remain unchanged across different visions, while variables were those that shift or differ from one vision to another. In the case of the Pal Chimera, the Ancor Vantian’s role as the ship captained by an older Meteos in the future was a clear constant just as the future vision Walman captained the constantly ill-fated sister ship, the Malebrandes. Basically, the majority of events beyond 1638 CC were considered as Variables.
Meteos established this categorization as a precaution, given that Pestilence’s invasion had turned the “known unknowns” into complete “unknown unknowns.” While he and Amatsu-Mikaboshi found this task a burdensome chore, the Four Horsemen saw it as a test of their worthiness. The result of the greatest bet yet between Death and Pestilence now hinges on the actions of these two central characters.
“You know what, Boss? Beyond reactivating the Ancor Vantian and Malebrandes, we have the opportunity to do so much more. With the resources and knowledge we’ve accumulated, the possibilities for upgrades are there, don’t you think?”
Birkburn nodded and crossed his arms in contemplation. “That’s true. But I doubt we’ll tamper too much with those two ships. Since they’re the most intact of all the Ministry have excavated, using them for analysis might be their primary role.”
“Then the other ships. What the future Ministry is hesitant to pull off, we will do it two decades earlier.”
The next in line in terms of intactness would be Luganoger, Endra, and the heavily damaged Hyperborea. Thanks to the Ancient Ministry’s recent overflowing fortunes, plans were made to restore these Pal Chimeras and refit them with upgrades…
‘Megaflare, Gigaflare, the motherfucking Teraflare! Hrnggg!’
The bespectacled woman held back the urge to scream in ecstasy with a practiced ease.
“Who knows? Perhaps one day, we’ll be able to design and produce our own heavy command cruiser. I couldn’t help that despite Kid’s warnings, the future could be more exciting than anything we’ve ever imagined.”
A future where they weren’t just reviving ancient relics, but crafting the legends of tomorrow. Robin couldn’t wait.
----------------------------------------
October 14, 1616 Central Calendar, 00:00
Coemeterium Occidentale, Xenosgram District, Runepolis
Ace slowly rode his Trychaser autobike through the wrought-iron gates of the cemetery and scanned the surroundings, while above the entire burial grounds was a faintly swirling purple mist of accumulating Minus Energy. The path ahead was flanked by towering mausoleums and gravestones where not a few of history’s rascals were buried here. The mist thickened and the chill in the air grew sharper as Ace rode on, making the shadows dance and laugh around him, but this god-turned-mortal had been in darker places before.
Tonight, he was on his regular watch for yet another monster.
After a few minutes, he spotted a small clearing surrounded by oaks whose gnarled branches twisted like the fingers of some long-dead giant. Slowing his bike to a halt, he spotted a figure lounging casually on a gravestone.
The First Horseman of the Apocalypse, his nightly host.
“Good morning, August Star of Heaven, still at it, I see,” Legiel commented. “This time, we’re at a cemetery, an obviously gloomy place. You know the drill.”
Ace said nothing in response, his eyes narrowing as he looked around for any sign of the next threat. From beyond the mist, he could hear faint sounds of guttural growls coming from every direction. Each was relentless, growing louder as if drawn by the scent of life, filling the air with a sense of impending doom. What now? Undead?
He snorted to himself. How tacky.
Pulling his white jacket tighter, Legiel stood up and walked toward Ace. “From time to time, I find myself contemplating why you even bother. The Hope you release when you slay these creatures might cleanse the land, but what does it bring you? There’s no tangible reward waiting at the end of your quests.”
Each monster Ace defeated brought relief to the living, but his own burdens remained, a weight that seemingly could not be lifted by a blade or a spell. With eerily gleaming eyes, Legiel continued, “And I, the one who conjures these delightful creatures, have nothing to offer you either. So, what selfish reason do you use to justify yourself?”
Ace slowly removed his helmet.
“Do it already, I don’t have all night.”
Even before his journey of suffering, Amatsu-Mikaboshi was not exactly a deity who put himself in service without expecting something in return. Forcing him to do a thankless job remembered by none but a few almost felt poetic.
“Sure thing. I suppose even a fallen god has his duties.”
Legiel giggled and raised a hand to the mist. The growls became louder. Now standing closer to Ace, he gave him a knowing look.
“Oh, a bit of advice. Maybe you could try sharing your story, directing a Cinematic Universe or writing a book or something. Let the world know what you’re up against. You’re fighting these creatures anyway, why not make sure people are prepared and aware?”
Still scanning the mist, Ace barely glanced at Legiel before responding dryly, “Duly noted.”
“Now let’s see how you’re going to handle the horde while being down your strongest Raise Buckle. Serves you right for lending it to Little Brother. Not that I’m going to help you or anything.”
“………”
Whether it’s Arrow or Propeller, Ace would be underequipped to handle the incoming Minus Energy monsters. Nevertheless, he readied his Desire Driver and stood tall, even as seemingly countless savage animalistic creatures made out of the very darkness itself leaped out of the mist and charged at him.
READY…?
FIGHT!
----------------------------------------
October 15, 1616 Central Calendar
Sea south of the Gynamo Kingdom
The sky that morning grew increasingly thick with cumulus clouds as they proceeded south. Amon, perched on the saddle behind an elite Gynamese dragoon, found himself buffeted by the wind as the wyvern carrying him soared at an altitude of 2.000 meters. Passing over the southernmost part of the main archipelago, Amon peered down through the swirling mist of clouds to catch glimpses of the land slipping away beneath them. The verdant island seemed to drift into the distance, soon swallowed by the expanse of open ocean below.
Departing the airfield in the southern town of Suzogue, Amon’s flight cut a direct path southward, while the other flight, outfitted with jammers and sonic tasers, took the usual patrol route with an eastward detour. Forming an element leading them was another elite dragoon-ridden wyvern with Dalisay Levin as a passenger, with her maintaining a vigilant watch using her ability as a sensor mage. Similarly, Gira was included on the other flight to provide early warning.
One potential risk to the mission was the unexpected appearance of an Annonrial submarine. However, Dagded leaked that the Messiah’s underwater fleet in the present day operated as more submersibles than true submarines, more or less similar to the Holy Empire’s conventionally-produced U-boats. In addition, since their glamour generator needs to be huge in order to be satisfactorily effective, Dagded highlighted its impracticality of mounting such a device on vehicles, including submarines. This meant that while a submarine could submerge when spotted, it would not have the means to hide its crew’s mana signatures from a sensor mage when surfacing. A submarine at periscope depth also still risked visual detection.
With this in mind, the ever-cautious Annonrial cruiser submarine crew who hunted outside the Absolute Kill Zone would most likely surface this close to Gynamo’s landmass only during the night when the possibility of being detected from the sky was nonexistent in this periphery country.
Particular assholes would try to shoot down the wyverns with the boat’s deck guns, but is it really worth it? It just so happened that the Gynamo Kingdom somewhat learned from their experience of losing wyverns under suspicious circumstances when conducting solitary patrols, hence the reason why a Gynamese wyvern patrol operates in a flight of four.
Annonrial was competent in paying attention to the “known unknowns,” risks they were aware of. However, the White Lotus today was the “unknown unknowns,” the risk to their operations coming from a situation they cannot even suspect. Ironically, Annonrial’s competence and cautiousness saved Amon more trouble.
At that moment, the dragoon in front of him turned to look behind his armored shoulder, with his voice came on the manacom cutting through the rush of wind.
“White Lotus Leader.”
“What is it?”
“There’s a lot on the line today… Ever get scared?”
“What if I am? There’s no turning back now, is there?”
The dragoon turned back to focus on the flight path, but Amon heard a soft snort over the manacom.
“I see. Fine then, you lead us, and we’ll follow.”
Underneath his mask, Meteos sighed. Chickening out meant losing the high ground he had established. The White Lotus has to see this through.
…………
“Target island in sight.”
After around 15 minutes of navigating above the ocean, the faint silhouette of the lone island emerged from the haze below. Its isolated presence stood out starkly against the endless expanse of the ocean, marking it as their objective. As the island grew more distinct, Amon’s flight descended to 1.500 meters.
“There doesn’t appear to be anything suspicious on the island other than the dense vegetation. I can’t believe the enemy is hiding out here.”
Amon activated his manacom. “Anton 1 to Boris 1. We’ve reached the target area and are in position. What’s your status?”
The Gynamese flight leader on the other formation answered, “Boris 1 here, we’re approaching the target from the east and will be passing over soon. Jammers and sonic tasers on standby.”
“Copy that, Boris 1.”
They do have preparations, and most importantly they were all using manacoms prepared by the White Lotus, not the possibly compromised standard Gynamese ones. Despite having so little time to prepare, it seemed what ‘disorganized rabble’ Amon put together held up well enough up until this point. Just a little bit more…
“Anton 2, can you sense any signature on the island?”
Dalisay handling the communication of Anton 1’s wingman responded, “Sort of. It’s very faint and I can’t tell how many. If not for the boost, I wouldn’t have sensed any.”
“Understood.”
So that’s the extent of the island’s illusion. A relatively low-powered glamour spell enough to hide from the ordinary sensors from the Five Peoples inhabiting the Gynamo Kingdom even if they somehow made the spell practical for aerial operations, but could still be countered by a sufficiently advanced magic technology.
“Two minutes to the target,” announced Gira, riding on the Boris Flight.
The Boris Flight should be around 6 kilometers from the target and 8 kilometers southeast of the Anton Flight, flying at an altitude of 2.500 meters. Even with his binoculars, Amon didn’t have the visual ability to spot those friendly wyverns.
So, he just waited.
Two minutes later, the moment came—Boris 1’s voice announced through the manacom with a calm command.
“Boris 1 to all wyverns, commencing jamming in three… two… one… start!”
From the perspective of the Anton Flight who timed their approach with them, the activation of the jammers that sent waves of interference felt eerily quiet. The island remained eerily still, as if holding its breath.
“There doesn’t seem to be anything happening,” Amon’s dragoon commented.
“We’ll see about that. I’m going to snipe the manacom antenna. Transition to the attack position.”
“…Understood.”
The wyvern banked.
If the jamming fails to work, Amon has a backup plan to cut off the island’s communication with the outside world: sniping the manacom antenna from altitude. Even though the glamour hides the station from sight, a physical attack would still pass through the illusion. The crew found the idea just as absurd as it sounds when they heard about it during the pre-mission briefing. Apparently, a weapon that accurate was part of Amon’s gear.
‘How is he going to do it?’ everyone wondered.
At that moment, Amon pulled out his Desire Driver and the black-and-white Raise Buckle.
MAGNUM!
Somehow, the White Lotus Leader conjured a suit of armor from out of nowhere, completely transforming himself. His new outfit featured a navy blue helmet with reddish-orange eyes, white upper armor, and a plain black lower body suit, creating a slightly mismatched look. In his hands, he held a white long-barreled firearm unlike anything even the Milishians had ever seen before.
“Huh!?”
“The White Lotus Leader just transformed!”
“……! So that’s the insertion strategy? Well, that’s something…!”
Still seated at the wyvern saddle as the mount turned to circle the island, Amon in his Rogue Magnum Form brought his weapon, the Magnum Shooter 40X in Rifle Mode toward the general direction of the concealed manacom antenna as per Dagded’s intel. The point of impact visualization and trajectory prediction system in his suit’s compound eyes worked in conjunction with the gun’s Optical Bell scope as he aimed.
And then, he fired.
An energy bullet shot out from the muzzle with tremendous force. As it neared the island, the bullet interacted with the glamour, creating a very brief hole in the illusion. The shimmering tear revealed a small glimpse of the manacom antenna before sealing shut as quickly as it had appeared. Unhindered, the bullet continued its trajectory and tore through the tip of the antenna where the manacom transmitter was located.
There was no visible change on the island. The dense vegetation swayed gently in the wind as if the island itself had not noticed the breach in its defenses.
“Now, only one way to find out. I’m going in. Wyvern, slow and steady. Get me as close to the target zone as possible.”
“U-understood…!”
The wyvern banked for a low pass and flew within a few hundred meters of the island’s surface, just above the treetops.
REVOLVE ON!
SET!
ZOM~BIEEEE! MAGNUM!
“Hyaah!”
The moment the wyvern was in position, Rogue sprang from the saddle and jumped. His white armor detached and shifted to reattach to his lower body, while the bulky Zombie Form armor fastened onto his upper torso’s suit. Once he crossed into the glamour’s field, he disappeared from the view of the dragoons circling above the island.
Even though Anton 1’s dragoon was a seasoned wyvern rider who kept a calm outward appearance, he was shocked inwardly, to say the least.
‘What the hell was that…!? By Goddess Astarte, I think I’ll go bald from stress—huh?’
He jolted at his own line of thought, noticeable enough that his mount screeched.
“Easy, partner,” the dragoon reined his slightly agitated wyvern.
‘Who… was that…?’
…………
It was good that he could still harness his magick while in his transformed form, a grateful Meteos thought. Using his wind elemental magic to slow his descent, Rogue ZombieMagnum Form touched down safely after barreling through the treetops.
He landed right in front of the camouflaged communications station, while the damaged antenna stood out like a broken tooth in an otherwise intact façade. The surroundings were quiet, a stillness that could mean anything from a successful disruption to an imminent threat. After Rogue took a quick survey of the area and picked up no immediate movement or signs of alarm, he approached the entrance holding the Magnum Shooter 40X in Handgun mode and wielding his chainsaw sword, Zombie Breaker.
‘Well, looks like I don’t need to fight myself after all…’
He had transformed in anticipation of dropping into a whirlwind of bullets and magic spells, but the first thing he saw after entering was the sight of several Annonrial crew members lying on the floor, their bodies pale and their blood vessels visibly strained. Completely unable to move, they were incapacitated by the sonic taser’s effect fired earlier. He had approximately fifteen minutes before the effects wore off, so he had to act quickly and neutralize all fifteen crew members while they were still at his mercy.
…………
Wyverns of the Anton Flight were circling high above the island on the lookout against unexpected enemies after the White Lotus Leader’s egress. After a while, Dalisay Levin felt a subtle shift coming from the island’s direction. Seeing that it started to shimmer faintly, a surge of apprehension coursed through her. Could it be? Was Amon successful?
Before she could analyze further, a voice could be heard on the manacom.
“Anton Flight, this is Amon. I have successfully neutralized all targets and temporarily deactivated the glamour. The communications station is secure, but I’m going to need extraction. Anton 1, proceed to land at the designated zone.”
“…! Understood, Amon, I’m on my way.”
Dalisay and the young dragoon still couldn’t believe the events that had transpired. To think that they’ve done it. They’ve caught the enemy off guard and now their very facility with its assets almost completely intact is theirs for the taking.
With the communications station captured and the crew turned to their side, thus ended what was later called Action GI 31TP by the White Lotus.