Chapter 447 - 435: We’ll Do It Ourselves
Chapter 447: Chapter 435: We’ll Do It Ourselves
[Warning: The Celestial Net system has detected a signal of intense Magic Power fluctuation in the Western Endless Sea.]
[Based on model projections, the total estimated scale of this Beast Tide is 363,000. Margin of error: ±2%.]
[Three over-spec Magic Sources have been tracked simultaneously. Confirmed to be Kings of Heart-eaters.]
"Three of them again this year." Allen leaned back in his chair, his fingers tapping on the armrest.
Three piercing, scarlet dots of light slowly materialized on the vast, blue map of the sea. They were hundreds of kilometers apart, their targets set directly on the second, fifth, and ninth defense sectors of the Aiselan Kingdom.
"Send the complete intelligence report to William, including estimated landing points and times." Allen immediately forwarded the intel to the kingdom as well.
"Command confirmed."
Allen watched the three approaching signals on the screen, a flicker of amusement in his eyes.
He had given them the sword. Now, he wanted to see if they truly dared to grasp the hilt.
In the council chamber of the royal palace in Golden Stone City.
The kingdom’s generals and ministers had been urgently summoned to the council chamber. Each held a copy of the battle report sent by Allen.
King William sat on the main throne, his face grim and somber.
"Your Majesty! This is beyond our capabilities to handle!"
The Minister of Military Affairs was the first to stand up. "I suggest... we continue to request aid from Lord Weisren! Only his war titans can handle three kings at once!"
"That’s right, Your Majesty!" chimed in a white-haired old general. "The Steel Knights have only just been formed, and the pilots are still recruits! They can handle the grunts, but facing a king... that’s a suicide mission!"
"Your Majesty, please reconsider!"
"For the sake of the kingdom, we cannot take this risk!"
The council chamber descended into chaos as panic spread like a plague.
The fear of the Heart Eaters, a fear that had dominated them for three hundred years, was etched into their very bones. Subconsciously, they thought of that omnipotent Wizard.
"Enough."
William’s voice cut through the cacophony like a sword cleaving the air.
He rose slowly, his gaze sweeping over everyone present. Before his stare, these once-powerful generals and high-ranking ministers all lowered their heads.
"I understand your fear."
William’s tone was unexpectedly calm. "For three hundred years, we have grown accustomed to failure, accustomed to plugging the gaps in our defense with human lives, accustomed to praying for miracles in our desperation."
"After Lord Guardian arrived, he gave us that miracle. He held the Beast Tide at the coast every year, allowing us more than a decade of peace."
His voice suddenly rose. "But have you ever thought about this?!"
"Lord Guardian has now given us weapons capable of fighting the Kings of Heart-eaters."
"If we hide behind the Wizard for even our own first battle, then these Mechas, these Steel Giants we poured our nation’s resources into building, are nothing but a larger crutch!"
"The Magic Furnaces were given to us by an outsider. The Alchemy Highways were built by an outsider. The Steel Legion belongs to an outsider. We’ve enjoyed more than a decade of prosperity, but our bones are still weak!"
"Weakness is the original sin."
"Relying on external strength is like being a tree without roots."
His last words were deafeningly resonant.
The entire council chamber fell so silent you could hear a pin drop.
Everyone stared blankly at their king.
The William before them seemed to merge completely with the image of the old king from years ago.
His spine was ramrod straight, like an unsheathed sword, its edge sharp and brilliant.
William took a deep breath and opened a communication line to Cybertron.
"Lord Weisren."
"I’m listening," Allen’s voice replied.
"On behalf of the Aiselan Kingdom, I have a request." William’s words were crystal clear, enunciated one by one. "For this Beast Tide, we implore your Golem Legion to help wipe out the 360,000 grunts. But as for the three Kings of Heart-eaters..."
He paused, a fire of grim resolve burning in his eyes.
"Please, let us fight them ourselves."
Allen was silent for a moment on the other end of the line.
"Jarvis, risk assessment."
[Based on an analysis of current pilot training data and Mecha performance, the Steel Knights’ overall probability of victory in an independent engagement against the three Kings of Heart-eaters is estimated at 86.3%. The ’Danger Wanderer’ has a win rate exceeding 98% against a single king, the ’Eureka Striker’ a 91% win rate, and the ’Gale Red’ an 85% win rate.]
[However, considering all pilots are engaging in their first real combat, uncertain factors such as psychological pressure and battlefield conditions may lead to operational errors. There is a 23.7% risk of failure, which includes... the possibility of pilot fatalities.]
Allen relayed Jarvis’s assessment to William verbatim.
"I know," William replied without the slightest hesitation. "But the Aiselans are not afraid to die."
"...Fine." Allen’s voice betrayed no emotion. "As you wish."
The communication line cut off.
Allen turned to the empty space beside him. "Jarvis, order the Golem Legion to maintain their current defensive formation along the entire front. Also, have Cyclops Units One, Two, and Three move to the rear reserve positions."
He paused, then added, "Have them remain on standby, just in case."
...
On the western coastline, inside the Mecha base codenamed "Gate of the Deep Sea."
A piercing combat alarm blared throughout the hollowed-out mountain.
"Level one combat alert! I repeat, level one combat alert! ’Storm,’ ’Eureka,’ ’Wanderer,’ pilots to your stations immediately!"
In three colossal, hundred-meter-tall shafts that ran through the mountain, three behemoths were slowly lifted by massive platforms, caught in the focus of countless spotlights.
In the pilot’s corridor, seven people walked toward their respective cockpits.
The two middle-aged officers piloting Gale Red walked at the front. The left pilot, Jinx, rolled his shoulders, chewing on a blade of dry grass. "Written your will yet, old timer?"
The right pilot, Maurice, didn’t turn his head. "Wrote it twenty years ago. Just change the date for each Beast Tide. You?"
"I haven’t."
"..."
"Who would I write it to? I don’t even have a dog."
Maurice scoffed and said no more.
The trio from the Eureka Striker was much quieter.
The Alchemy University student silently recited the operating procedures, the female Spirit Mage closed her eyes to regulate her breathing, and the down-on-his-luck young noble stuffed his Amulet into the lining of his pilot suit—the three of them, who normally couldn’t stand each other, wasted no words at this moment.
Rein and Leia walked at the very back.
They were shoulder to shoulder, their steps perfectly synchronized.
Leia turned her head, said nothing, and simply raised her right fist.
Rein grinned, revealing his white teeth, and bumped it with his own.
Fist to fist. Just like that time down in the mine.
At the "Azure Sky Wings" base.
Peram sat in the Unicorn’s cockpit and selected the sword-combat backpack. As the first Knight of Aiselan to take to the skies, his eyes held only calm.
On the tarmac beside him, two Zaku units stood side by side.
The one on the left was the prototype, piloted by a Level 3 Spirit Mage who had passed the selection trials.
The one on the right, designated "ZK-001," was slightly cruder than the prototype, its edges not as rounded, but every armor plate fit together seamlessly.
In this Mecha’s cockpit, a young man in his early twenties was performing final checks.
His name was Dorne, a former miner, and the pilot of the first "domestically produced" Zaku.
He checked every gauge one by one, confirming the feedback was normal.
He gripped the control stick, his palm slick with sweat. He wiped it on his sleeve and gripped it again.
Still sweaty.
’To hell with it.’
Dorne took a deep breath and pressed the button beneath his hand.
The cockpit sealed shut. The observation screen lit up, and the mono-eye flared with a scarlet glow.
「Dawn.」
The light of day had not yet fully torn through the curtain of night. The line between sea and sky was a chaotic blur.
"Danger Wanderer," "Eureka Striker," "Gale Red," "Unicorn," "Zaku."
Along the western coastline, six giant steel creations, braving the cold sea wind, arrived one after another at their designated positions.
The first glimmer of dawn finally pierced the clouds like a golden sword, striking the cold steel armor at an angle and reflecting a dazzling halo of light.
Several kilometers behind them was the Golem Legion’s front line, as silent as a mountain range. Further back still were hundreds of thousands of the kingdom’s soldiers, waiting in formation.
Everyone’s eyes were focused on those six Mechas.
Especially the domestically produced Zaku piloted by the miner ’Hammer’.
It looked a little out of place, a flag of the Aiselan Kingdom spray-painted on its chest plate.
As it traveled from the Eastern Industrial Zone to the front lines, countless people from all the villages and towns along the way spontaneously came out of their homes, erupting in deafening cheers for this Steel Giant that belonged to them.
This was their very own Knight.
The six Mechas stood silently, facing the sea like six silent guardian deities.
The distant sea horizon remained calm.
But the suffocating sense of pressure grew ever thicker.
Suddenly, a combat situation report sounded simultaneously inside all the Mecha cockpits.
[High-energy reaction detected. Target is ascending rapidly from a depth of ten thousand meters.]
[Three minutes until contact.]
The surface of the sea began to tremble.