Inside the black void of Pascal’s thoughts, he was going through everything that may happen now that the snow was melting. From the South, he received news that the Geth Empire was preparing for a last big push, trying to break through. If that failed, they would have no choice but to start retreating and establish a firm grip on the land they conquered before Ishillia could launch a counterattack.
As for what he gathered, their ally, the Sar Empire, had also used the winter to consolidate their defenses, even if they lost a chunk of their eastern regions to Roblesia and the Theocracy’s joint conquest. They were now in a similar stalemate, especially after the Sar Empire managed to outmaneuver and destroy the Theocracy’s navy. Which meant that Geth would soon receive reinforcement. If not enough to push through, it is certainly sufficient to establish their rule on their occupied territories.
He tried thinking about how to avoid that possibility, to maybe kill Kadosa himself; cutting off the head would make sure that Geth would fall into complete turmoil and a war for succession. Yet no matter what, Lucca couldn’t find any options to strike that wouldn’t leave them open. The only positive thing he could count on was his disciple, Kiva’s continued suppression of the Kingdom of Scorc and their rebelling forces. Just what he needed because a top-priority message had reached him only a few days ago.
“Master?” The three consciousnesses asked, greeting Pascal as they linked up their thoughts to his summoning magic.
“Barth,” Pascal spoke, and he already knew why he had singled him out.
“Our spy in Atuvia was discovered.” He explained to the others with a slight shrug, “But only the mage. Because my connection with him was cut out after a sudden flare, I am sure he is dead.”
“The others confirmed it.” Pascal continued, “We still have regular forces there, working without being discovered. We just received the news that this bastardly Avalon is going to use Atuvia to skirt around Barth’s encirclement to penetrate into our territory via the old Scorc. They use the discovery of our spy to push their will through Atuvia. They will surely entice further rebellion after entering the Eastern Provinces and use them to bog Kiva down while they move towards the Capital.”
“Not if we have anything to say about it.” Kiva snorted, making Pascal’s thoughts cut through the others, forcing them to remain silent.
“Barth, how sure you are that our spies are not compromised?” Pascal asked, waiting patiently for his answer, which took a minute to come.
“85%. There is a chance as they did find our mage… But they found him because he was a mage. It is evident that Mirian is focused on eliminating everything magical, knowing we have lost too much after…”
“After that idiot,” Pascal grunted, remembering Kathrien’s sacrifice. Since that day, they have been losing mage after mage, leaving them with the untrained, freshly discovered, or simply the untalented ones. “Barth, send a portion of your forces, without being noticed, to reinforce Kiva’s side.”
“Understood.”
“Any instructions, Master?” Kiva asked, waiting for Pascal’s design before offering his own ideas.
“Let them break through.” He spoke after a momentary pause, “We don’t want them to know we are aware of their plans. When they push into Ishillia, you can encircle them and crush them before anything.”
“If they use the Judgement…” Kiva muttered, making Pascal grunt and continuing in an annoyed tone.
“Our remaining ships will be given to you. Destroy the Judgement by any means necessary.”
“It will be done,” Kiva answered in a cold tone before his disciples slowly, one by one, retreated from his consciousness.
“Better be…” Pascal exhaled, feeling his head hurting because he was suddenly unsure of too many things. One was the Spear, leaving with Mirian…, and the other was the possibility of the Vasa bloodline returning. Coming back to eliminate the legacy of Ishillia. The hero’s own descendants... The family that saved the world once from certain doom and from being dominated and enslaved. “No… We are Ishillians… we will survive.”
…
….
……
“What?” Milan asked, holding his son and looking at Mirian with a stunned expression. "What do you mean by I’m not coming?”
“As I said.” Mirian shrugged, stepping closer and looking at the two men who she loved the most. “You two stay in Cerna. I am not risking anything. I will lead the army forward; you stay and take care of things here, make sure our supplies run smoothly. That is that!”
“But!”
“No buts,” Mirian answered, stomping once, making their son turn in his sleep, sucking on his thumbs, “I have already decided, even if you don’t like it!”
“I don’t…”
“Me neither, but this is how it will be.” She continued with a softer voice, watching them with a smile. “It should be only until winter. With how things stand, there is a high chance we will win without a prolonged conflict.”
“If Avalon manages what they said they would do...” Milan sighed, thinking back to the plans that were already in motion.
Mirian and Elliot’s forces were being gathered, joining up just beyond Cerna, out of any possible eyes of Ishillian spies. When the signal comes that Avalon is ready, the army will start marching. They will consist of more than two hundred thousand soldiers gathered from all the regions of the North. Along them will come the newly developed Avalonian mechanized troops, these long-range cannons Milan was studying in the past year or so. Then, there was Mirian’s own walking machine and the Judgment which would fly out, leading the army and aiming to retake the Capital.
At the same time, Avalon said they would cross over the defenses of Ishillia and drop directly behind their backs, disabling it for the main army. As for how, he didn’t know, but he wasn’t about to question them. Not after everything he saw and learned from his sister. He studied old wars in Ishillia's history a lot when attending the academy within the Capital… and if the Empire survives, this war will have its place in the history books, being taught as the Avalonian Maneuver, if anything.
This book is hosted on another platform. Read the official version and support the author's work.
“Just… be safe, okay?” Milan asked, making Mirian giggle like a little girl, giving him a firm kiss.
“Duh. You will still have to gift me a girl too!”
“A girl?” Milan chuckled, blinking his eyes in shock, hearing Mirian’s answer.
“Of course! Leon has sons. If I want him to be a firm ally in the future, it is best if we intermarry our families’ kids!”
…
….
……
The workshop inside my underground base was filled with the noise of people working, doing their best to ensure that everything was ready for our offense against Ishillia. In the past few days, I have been occupied by a single thought: figuring out how to launch and recover six biplanes from this flying fortress. Finally, I came to a decision, one that was the most feasible to achieve and deploy before we made our move.
I stood at the center of the chaos around me, surrounded by blueprints spread across a massive, rectangular table, while I explained everything to the different groups before me, including Krel, who was present to learn. In the end, he decided to keep manufacturing toys and to help me train my people or work for me whenever I called upon him. And that time came sooner than he expected. Still, with what we were doing here, his sharp mind was something I was happy to employ to its fullest. I had already spent multiple days debating with Sasha, bouncing our ideas between us, and considering how to turn the Camelot into a mobile airbase. After finishing them, it was time to transform theory into reality.
“It has to be on the top deck, as the bottom will be occupied by transferring the mechs over the barrier!” I exclaimed, running my fingers over the blueprint of the airship’s cross-section. The space above the main hull was also an area large enough to support such a mechanism without compromising the Camelot’s existing features. My words were met with murmurs of agreement from some of the engineers and leading foremen.
“The weight distribution will need to be recalculated,” Kraus, my Forgemaster, added, stepping up beside me. His tone was even, but his furrowed brows revealed his concern. “Adding a launch and recovery system will shift the center of gravity. Even with magic reducing the ship’s weight, we need it to be viable without its effects, too. Don’t worry, My Sovereign, we can adjust with auxiliary stabilizers.”
“I’ll trust you to handle the issue,” I replied with a smile. “I’m more interested in making sure this works without turning the Camelot into a sitting duck in the sky. If we can’t deploy and recover those planes efficiently, it’ll be a liability, and I can postpone it.”
“It will be done.” He nodded, already scribbling notes onto a nearby slate, accompanied with his orders to his men.
“Start with the launch system,” I called out, raising my voice above the din. “We need a way to get the planes off the deck quickly, one after the other.”
“A catapult system,” the others muttered, reading my blueprints, which were presented to them. “A rail mounted on the top deck could accelerate the planes for takeoff. Will it be magical or mechanical?” One of them asked, looking at me.
“Both,” I replied, nodding at him. “Mainly, it is a spring-loaded system using compressed energy—spiked with a magical enhancement for extra thrust. If the planes can reach a minimum speed within a short distance, they’ll have no trouble taking off and keeping in the air. It isn’t hard to install; the last thing we need is overcomplicated mechanisms that take weeks to repair if something goes awry. Make sure it’s durable enough to withstand turbulence and the elements.”
While speaking, I could see the gears turning in my people's heads as they nodded and set to work drafting more detailed sub-designs for their own use. The real challenge, though, was recovering our launched birds. Throwing out the planes was relatively straightforward; bringing them back aboard midair was another story entirely.
“Skyhooks,” Sasha said, her tone contemplative when she suggested it and sketched a crude mechanism on my slate one night. “Extendable arms that can lock onto the planes mid-flight. They’ll need to be guided by beacon runes to align properly. Just make the hook on the planes out of CC, and it will react like a magical magnet.”
“The pilots will have to be precise,” I said, folding my arms when I heard her suggestion, “If they miss the hook, they’ll risk colliding with the airship or falling out of the sky.”
“That is why make the hook out of CC. It is durable, and it will react to the magic, helping them to connect. If they can match our speed, they just need to line up next to the Camelot and get into place. It will click and lock the plane down. Then, with a simple crane, we can bring it aboard.” She explained confidently. “Yes, it won’t be risk-free, but you said you trust them and that they learn surprisingly well!”
“Indeed,” I nodded when we spoke about it. “We will do it this way then!”
Now, I was retelling it all to my top engineers, explaining everything, reaching the point where I was taking questions, receiving one that I was happy to hear being answered not by me but by my Forgemaster and his intuition.
“If the skyhooks fail, what then?”
“A secondary net system?” Kraus proposed. “We could add a barrier that’s soft enough to catch the planes but strong enough to keep them from crashing into the deck.”
“If we have the materials, make it happen,” I said. “If we’re going to send my pilots into combat, we owe it to them to make their landings as safe as possible.”
“What about storage?” Another asked. “Where are we putting six planes when they’re not in the air? The deck isn’t exactly spacious.”
“This will be a unique situation,” I shrugged. “It is for our assault against Ishillia. For now, we will store them where we find space atop the Camelot, fastening them to its body. After Ishillia is done, we can redesign it and probably move it to the bottom of the Camelot, establishing permanent hangars. Or we can build a second airship, specifically for carrying planes within its belly and launching them. The planes will be needed when we reach the Capital.” I said, looking at them, “The city, for sure, will be protected against magic. But not against our planes flying over it, dropping our packages down on Pascal’s head.”
“It will be done, My Sovereign.” Kraus nodded encouragingly. “We will build it for you, as always!”
Nodding, we poured hours into the blueprints as we refined the designs for a last time, adjusting for weight distribution, material durability, and potential scenarios we may face on the battlefield. By the time we had an actual, workable plan, it was already deep into the night.
“We’ll need to build a prototype of the system first,” I said, addressing the room. “The Camelot’s top deck will have to be modified, but we’ll test the concept on the ground before committing to anything permanent.”
“I’ll oversee its construction,” Kraus saluted, slapping his chest. “We can have something ready within a week.”
“Good. Once the prototype works, we’ll move on to installing it aboard the Camelot. Time is critical; I don’t want to be caught unprepared, but I also do not rush it. Spring is still wet, and troops will have a hard time traveling in mud. We need the weather to stabilize and the ground to be hard enough for our allies to march.”
As the room began to empty and the others headed out to rest before starting their work, I remained behind, staring at the blueprints spread across the table. The Camelot was already a massive undertaking, a symbol of what we managed to achieve. Adding the biplane system would elevate it to an entirely new level, making me feel a certain sense of accomplishment. Barbarians, my ass! We made this possible… People just need an opportunity, and they will flourish.
…
….
……
“You’re surprisingly quiet,” Sasha said, stepping back into the room after putting our kids to sleep in their own room. She placed a hand on my shoulder, sitting down next to me on the edge of our bed, Mikan, Yuri, and Luna already asleep behind us.
“Just thinking,” I answered. “About what is about to come.”
“War,” she said with a small smile. “But after it is done… we probably won’t see another war for a long time.”
“Optimistic!” I chuckled softly. “But, when you put it that way, it doesn’t sound so bad.”
“It isn’t,” she whispered. “Then, we can… relax. Isn’t that what you wanted?”
“Yeah. I just wanted a place to live leisurely, have you girls, and do nothing but enjoy being a noble. Somehow…” I shrugged, looking around the room and out the window towards my city. “Somehow, things just… snowballed out of my control.”
“Come…” she pulled me into bed, into the embrace of my wife. “Soon, you will have time to relax, and we will be there to enjoy it, too!”