I stood outside, on the upper deck of my Camelot, my hands clasped behind my back, a half-smile on my face. I couldn’t help it because right now, I was dressed in black and gold military attire designed by Dorian, which was directly made for me. It was my official ‘Sovereign’ outfit, including a cool hat and, best of all, a cape that was flapping behind me… Damn it. I want to see myself from the outside as! Haaaah... once in a while, we all want to look cool. And the child in me was sure I was cool as fuck right now!
“Can't we go…? It’s so windy up here…” Merlin grumbled next to me, trying to hold his own cape down with annoyance, missing the whole idea behind a cape. They have no other reason than to look fabulous on someone in the wind! Eh, whatever.
Without answer, I turned my gaze down at the massive force assembling below us, only two days after taking the city. The morning sun had been up for hours now, revealing the sea of soldiers stretching out below us. Most of them belonged under Mirian’s command, who was currently dealing with the prisoners and deciding how to integrate them. It was a sight to behold… Without counting Barth’s remaining people, Mirian and my Uncle came with about 150,000 men gathered from across the North, prepared for the final march toward the retaking of the Capital.
This was the moment we had been aiming toward for years, even if we never said it out loud. We all knew this day would come… and yet, for some weird reason, it felt surreal, as if I was standing here, not really me, but just an observer. I can’t fully explain it… but it was akin to an out-of-body experience. Maybe it was my nerves playing a trick on my perception. Shaking my head, chasing the feeling away, I continued to survey the army we would direct against Pascal and his forces.
Mirian’s troops were the ones that had arrived first, a surprisingly disciplined force, reminding me that this world was still not like my old one. Or Avalon. They were different than our army, as their main force consisted of pike formations, archers, and a good amount of cavalry clad in half-plate armor. After settling into space, they stood in well-organized ranks, keeping themselves ready to continue marching whenever the order came. I could see dozens of different banners, the standards of noble houses who defected to Mirian’s call before we were sealed away, fluttering in the wind. I didn’t recognize any of them, bearing their emblems of families, hoping to, after our victory, rise as the next dukes within Mirian’s reformed Empire. Thankfully, I didn’t need to bother with them… that would be a headache.
“They are surprisingly competent,” Merlin mumbled, watching some of their groups move around the by-now extinguished firepits and holes where we burnt the dead bodies.
“We have the advantage of the radio.” I nodded, showing a renewed smile. For the first time, I witnessed what I had only read in history books before about how an archaic army kept its people moving.
Drummers and fifers played their marching tunes, a stark contrast to how our forces moved in complete silence, communicating via radio in their helmets. Still, I couldn’t help but admire the precision of her troops and the way they moved as one. I guess they were used to it more than I was. Still, I should lend them some of our equipment for better coordination before we reach Pascal. Right now, for most people we are about to encounter, Mirian is a symbol or maybe even a beacon of hope, especially for those who had suffered under the short but noticeable rule of this Eternal Emperor’s tyranny. Heh! His own title is more ridiculous than me naming myself a Sovereign. From here on, I will have Mirian do most of the talking when we encounter others… As an Ishillian, she has the right to rally or try to turn anyone we meet onto our side.
“We will be ready to move by the afternoon,” Merlin spoke again, looking directly at where I was.
“Good. I don’t want to waste too much time.” I nodded, observing my Uncle’s forces coming up from behind Mirian.
In contrast, his troops had a much different feel to it, mostly because he was my Uncle and had worked with me since the start. It was a fusion of ‘old-world’ tactics while our advancements were sprinkled on top of it. His troops wore reinforced gambesons and pieces of our old Mark I armor set, those that we handed down before moving on to the Mark IIs. Not all of them, of course, just those that we were unable to refit. Anyway, his men also carried our repeater crossbows, and they also brought with them two dozen howitzers, some of which were built by them. Or at least the tractor frame on which my Uncle strapped our cannons. I don’t know how he feels right now, but I will learn it soon. I did invite the two up to the Camelot so we can have our first meeting. The so-called War Council… hehe.
Thinking about it, I inhaled deeply, feeling the cold bite of the wind at this altitude. This was it. After years of preparation, countless battles against the beasts, and discovering their usefulness, we had gathered enough strength to break free of Ishillia. However, one thing that I learned from my past is that victory was never guaranteed, and I knew that the road ahead, even with all the advancement we had, wouldn’t be straightforward. That bastard Emperor was not a man to be underestimated, not after living for so long. I may have managed to get under his skin, but I won’t be satisfied until I know he is dead. I couldn’t help but remember how his little puppet, the Empress of Envy, ended up. I just hope the old one is egotistic enough to not utilize a spell that would turn the whole Empire into a wasteland. Lives would be lost, sacrifices would be made, yes, but I didn’t want him to flip the table on us… Which was a reasonable fear I had.
“Let’s go in,” I said, patting Merlin’s shoulder. “It is time to greet our guests.”
…
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……
A strong gust of wind swept through the deck as the Camelot landed securely and opened its hatch, lowering its boarding ramps before my Uncle and Mirian. I watched with a proud grin as the two began making their way up, flanked by their own and my guards, giving them an escort up into the ‘belly of the beast.’ There was no mistake. The two were equally as shocked, even if they tried to hide it at first. Oh well, good. Actually, if I help Mirian take her throne, I want her to remember that she will never know what else I have hidden away, waiting to be revealed in an emergency.
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The moment they stopped before me and right before I opened my mouth to greet them, Mirian was the first to speak up.
“This…” She grunted, pursing her lips, stepping forward with an expression of now unmasked, honest astonishment. “What in the Gods’ name… is this? I let you tour my ship once, and this is what you turn it into?”
“Something like that.” I chuckled, “Welcome to the Camelot—Avalon’s, or should I say this world’s first true airship.”
“Ship? My nephew, this is not a ship but a flying city.” Elliot let out a low whistle. “You mean to tell me you’ve been sitting on something like this the entire time? And I’m just now seeing it?”
“Sorry. It was top secret.” I smiled kindly, “I wanted it to be a surprise.”
“Sure.” He shrugged but wasn’t really angry, just awed.
Ignoring our short discussion, Mirian turned unhurriedly, taking in the interior of the first deck, the reinforced steel plating, the design, and the sheer scale of the holding bay. Of course, for the next step, I led them on a short tour, only showing them parts that weren’t deemed problematic to let them see. When we were up at the top, where my biplanes were now docked and ready, she walked to the edge, gripping the railing tightly as she looked down at her army gathering below us. For a moment, she remained silent, her mind racing with the implications of what I had built, something that was probably better than her Judgement. The Camelot was more than twice its scale. And it was also a reminder of the power we wielded.
“This… I don’t think the old man expects something like this,” she breathed. “If he sees it, he will either want it for himself or will try to destroy it first.”
“That’s the idea,” I answered. “If he focuses on the Camelot, all the better. It will give breathing for all of our forces to assault the city and take it from him.”
“Dangerous, but you know that.” Elliot stepped between us, his expression still incredulous. “But if you are confident of standing up to that man, I guess you have more hidden aces up your sleeve. What kind of power source is keeping this afloat?”
“Sorry.” I shrugged, patting his shoulders. “That is classified information.”
“I bet it is a monster core,” Mirian added, but my face remained impassive, not reacting to her at all.
“He did pick yours as a base, so… I guess,” Elliot said while he shook his head, laughing. “You and your mysteries. Fine, keep your secrets!” He punched my arm playfully, “What matters is that we’re here and ready.” He turned serious, crossing his arms as he finished his speech. “Our advance through the border was met with some resistance, as you said we would. Barth’s remaining detachments had entrenched a few holdouts, likely in preparation for our try at breaking out.”
“I assume they posed no threat.” I nodded. “Our scout planes marked three primary holdout points on your route, relaying the information to all three of us to my knowledge.”
“It was perfect,” Elliot smirked. “We took care of them with ease. No losses because we bombarded them to ruins. Their morale was shattered very quickly after facing raining fire for a few minutes.”
“We didn’t even need to send in ground troops; we only stood and caught those who tried to run.” Mirian nodded, her eyes sharp as she recalled it. “Some tried to fight to the death... But most surrendered when they realized they were in a hopeless situation. We absorbed the captives into the supply chain. At least, we did so with those who were willing to work. The rest were… dealt with.”
“Your charm as the legitimate Empress should work on regular people.” I agreed as I let out a sigh. “At least, I do hope so. It would mean the path forward would be much easier. I gamble on the fact that any resistance seeing us march, seeing the mechs, the Camelot, the Judgement, and more... that they defect to our side.”
“That would be nice!” Elliot exhaled, rubbing his chin. “I still can’t believe how easy it was, and it would be best to repeat it if we meet some brainwashed forces. Honestly speaking, I did expect a serious counteroffensive... But I would be fine if I am mistaken!”
“That will come. Even if we fooled Pascal, the army he moved to the East should already be moving towards the Capital.” Mirian turned from the railing, her gaze locking onto ours. “That’s what worries me. We have only a slight window to strike at the city.”
“I know.” I nodded as I met her gaze steadily. “With the death of Barth, Pascal already knows what’s what. But we won’t wait for the enemy to make the first move.” I gestured toward the inside so we could head back, where Merlin and Sasha had laid out detailed battle plans for them ahead of time. “We’re pushing forward the moment you finish dealing with the prisoners,” I explained to Mirian. “We don’t want to stop too much… The Capital is our next and final destination.”
A tense silence followed, and I could see the slight doubt in Mirian’s eyes, the way her fingers tightened around the edge of the table. She was going to go through it with us, yes, but she was still unsure of our future, and no matter her upbringing… She knew that the future of Ishillia, her people, and her home were now resting directly on her shoulders. Looking to the left, Elliot, too, seemed lost in thought, his usual bravado replaced by a rare moment of introspection. Well… at least he was a bit more relaxed than Mirian.
I let them think and take it all in while I rested my hands on the table, only interrupting their thoughts when I felt it was time.
“We have an overwhelming advantage, but make no mistake—this will be the hardest fight we have faced yet. The Eternal Emperor won’t just roll over before us. I am sure he still has forces in reserve. Something neither of us knows about, or he simply wasted three centuries by rotting away. Still! If you,” I pointed at Mirian, “Just step out, holding the Spear, you could rally anybody. Or, even better, entice a rebellion within the city. That artifact is what you makes the actual Empress in this situation. The best tool in our inventory!”
“I hope you brought it.” Elliot frowned.
“Of course.” Mirian nodded, “I just don’t know if it will help. It remained silent since that incident…”
“Its presence is enough.” I waved a hand, “I don’t care if it works or not; that in your hands will be all that we need.”
“What of the remaining Ishillian ships?” Mirian exhaled sharply after dropping the topic of the Spear. “I assume the Camelot is ready to take them down?”
“Heh,” I smirked. “With ease.”
“That’s some confidence!” Elliot rubbed his hands together, getting even more relaxed. “Then it’s settled. We move soon!”
“Sure.” Mirian studied the map, then turned her gaze to the direction of the South, where the silhouette of Ishillia’s Capital shimmered in her mind’s eye. “This is it,” she exhaled loudly. “Time to return home.”
“Don’t worry.” I tried to make her relax. “The Eternal Emperor’s reign ends soon, proving his title to be a fake one. And we will be the ones to write the footnote into the history books that he was the most delusional of all of your ancestors.”
“Very funny.” She rolled her eyes but kept up a smile, “Let’s go… I still need to turn a few thousand prisoners to our cause, don’t I?”