Southern Illemese Continent, Annonrial Empire

  The Illemese Continent was the more level and verdant of the Annonrial Empire's two primary landmasses. Unlike the rugged mountainous terrain and arid deserts of Branchel, where mineral resources were plentiful, Illemese's heartland was the fertile breadbasket of the nation, where regions not utilized for agriculture were blanketed in dense tropical jungles, stretching across rolling hills and fed by a network of winding rivers. It was into these lush woodlands that the Heretic Fleet's operatives vanished during the diversion attack on the remote airbase, advancing Operation WHEELHOUSE by finding places to deploy their Spires and setting up drone-manufacturing outposts to deepen the deception against the Messiah's regime.

  One of the infiltration teams paused beneath the towering canopy of the jungle. For two days, these three Magias had moved northward, covering over 200 kilometers without using roads or established trails. Their sensors detected no signs of detection from the local sapient entities, but the dense foliage and unpredictable terrain had required them to recalibrate their route multiple times.

  After a moment, the three continued, acrobatically traversing the tree branches. Somewhere ahead, the source of the "Kyriel" transmission they were ordered to investigate awaited.

  June 23, 1617 Central Calendar, 11:45

  MOASEC Magic Technology System Development Facility, San Redentore District, Runepolis, Holy Milishial Empire

  Meteos languidly examined the glowing projection of the Annonrial Empire's map and the positions of the units participating in Operation WHEELHOUSE, spinning it absently with his fingers as he lounged in the restricted break room, counting down the minutes until his shift was over.

  "Zarathostra... what are you going to do now...?"

  He paused at his own muttering, then let out a dry, humorless laugh. It was still too early to feel satisfied.

  Destabilization of Annonrial to prevent it from becoming a hidden major player in the future world affairs (read: undermining everyone). After silently foiling their attempts to incite Muish separatists and helping Parpaldia reform to increase its security, getting Annonrial to taste its own medicine should be a cathartic next major step in the World's Defense Line plan.

  However, WHEELHOUSE had barely begun. The strike on that remote airbase was ultimately just a needle prick designed to stir the sleeping beast and build the narrative of a resurgent rebel army. The true battle would only ignite once WHEELHOUSE made headway in dismantling Annonrial's hold on Illemese and the follow-up Operation SLEEVES threw the Branchel Continent into disarray. And with Legiel's metaphorical blade looming over him, Meteos would much prefer Annonrial to fade silently into darkness, absorbed bloodlessly by the "Righteous Salvation Army" he created rather than see the land scorched in a brutal civil strife.

  Now, what possible explanation could Meteos give to the Emperor for such a self-limiting goal? Ah, of course—the threat of core magic ICBMs scattered across the Annonrial Empire and the nightmare of them being flung worldwide by reckless actors if an armed conflict broke out within its borders. Whether they were already in development or not at this point, it didn't matter. Let's just assume they existed for argument's sake. And coincidentally, Zarathostra wasn't the type to shy away from setting the world ablaze if he felt his goal was unattainable... or so Meteos understood from Ace's accounts about him.

  As morbid as it may sound, Meteos counted himself fortunate that Zarathostra of the Messiah inadvertently reinforced the narrative he's been building by having the sheer will to turn his own nation into one gigantic landmine, giving ample reason to urge restraint. But let's be real—keeping this delicate balance was anything but simple. Even with an overwhelming technological superiority of the Third Timeline's Holy Empire, the Annonrial question wasn't something one could face with reckless abandon.

  "...Clearly he lives rent-free in your mind," came a comment from behind him.

  Arthur Arkland, his superior in the department, walked in and saw Meteos pulling up the Annonrial Emperor's profile on the projection again. Given how often this had happened, it gave the impression that the young seer was longing to meet the man even once.

  "Mr. Arkland."

  Meteos craned his neck and gave the green-haired man a slight nod in greeting as Arthur took a seat across from him. With a quiet sigh, he continued.

  "...Well, personally, I think that some of this world's major problems would vanish with his demise. But then again, who knows how many contingencies he's set in motion? Fail in his true objective, and the Messiah might just drag the world down with him."

  "Such is the problem with a determined opponent," Arthur offered in sympathy to the reincarnator's quandary.

  "Indeed, a peer in strength with resolve to match. A frustrating opponent, no?"

  He studied Meteos' activity for a moment, then let out a contemplative sigh.

  "Yes, but come to think of it, these emotions exist because the Holy Empire's hypothetical opponents on the world stage tend to fold quickly simply because we are just that overwhelming in strength. Facing a true peer like this would rattle the complacent policymakers in their ivory towers."

  "Hm."

  Meteos gave a faint, knowing smile. Just like the Gra Valkas Empire and Japan in the First Timeline, he thought. The sudden appearance of rival powers had sent shockwaves through the Holy Empire's complacent leadership, forcing them to scramble only to end up seen as whiny losers at the end of the day.

  Indeed, the gap between the Holy Milishial Empire and the others had gotten so vast that they were winning too much. Was it a good thing? For them yes, that was an extremely good thing; one might say that it's the best thing they could ask for. Their success was owed to the tireless efforts of their researchers, who have gone through the pains of analyzing and developing their technology, as well as their military men who expertly leveraged these advancements. However, winning too much—no matter how much one guards against it—is bound to bring disorientation and illusions of grandeur.

  In the First Timeline, Japan and Gra Valkas found them in this mentality, resulting in the brutal beatdown of the Holy Empire's dignity once they eventually lost the race. But only because they lost. Others accuse the Holy Empire of arrogance, failing to realize that these critics were equally blinded by their own hubris as the Holy Empire was once they achieved victory. That was something Meteos Roguerider could never forgive due to those people's utter hypocrisy, as if the underlying message was, "We alone have the right to arrogance because you are not us."

  So in the end, all that posturing of moral high ground was just the human tendency to discriminate against other people in disguise. Or was he mistaken? Is it simply human nature to hate and despise one another—exactly as the Civilization Annihilation Game intended—with no deeper meaning behind it? Is humanity really so pathetic that it would surrender to Legiel and the Audience's whims?

  Meteos acknowledged the dangers of his own actions; of course he did.

  But even so, it is their duty—those like Meteos, Arthur, Lugiel, and the countless unseen hands of the Holy Empire—to shift the balance in their favor when it comes to international affairs. That's politics, a legitimate strategy. To hope for some grand "balance" to take place naturally is stupid beyond belief, which was precisely the point of the Civilization Annihilation Game. Unfortunately, the world doesn't reward fairness; it rewards those who seize control of the narrative, the resources, and the power to enforce their will.

  "In the end, it is easier that we first become powerful ourselves to prevent Zarathostra's machinations from endangering this world further... Only after that can we even consider prosperity for all."

  "I know, but that's hardly a satisfying conclusion."

  With a sigh, Meteos glanced at Zarathostra of the Messiah's stoic portrait, as if searching for something behind those gleaming eyes.

  "You know, Mr. Arkland... Sometimes, I just want to confront him directly, to discern what truly goes on in that mind of his."

  "I wasn't aware you entertained the possibility of talking him down."

  "Not really. He claims to be the living will of Ravernal, after all. He'll either wipe out humanity or die trying."

  "Such genocidal ambition. I suppose the Devils really do loathe us."

  Meteos turned to Arthur.

  "I can't speak for the other Light-Winged, but deep down, the Messiah is driven by something other than hatred."

  "Is that something you 'saw'?" the older man asked, referring to Meteos' 'future-seeing' powers.

  "...Yes."

  "What is that something else, then?" Arthur raised an eyebrow.

  "Hatred can only push you so far. At some point, it will fizzle out, leaving you with nothing... But justice is a different story. Zarathostra's campaign to kill us all stems from an ultimate expression of filial piety, a desire not to burden the rest of the Ravernal Empire from having to deal with rebellious humanity upon their return, so that they may resettle this world with peace of mind. That is his love and justice, and what allows him to stay on his track for centuries."

  "........."

  In fact, it was said that 'no being loved themselves as fiercely as a Ravernal.'

  Unironically, the Messiah's drive for a world of love and peace (for Ravernal only, that is) was a purer motivation than Meteos' own, where he selfishly desired a world where he could laugh.

  Even in death, Zarathostra could bring ruin by means beyond Meteos' foresight. In a way, he'd still win, a frustrating reality that made destroying him far more complicated than Meteos preferred.

  "How tragic."

  Arthur spoke after a beat of silence. He had just learned the resolve of this era's most relentless figure—and he was their enemy.

  "Maybe I can learn one thing or two about him by looking him in the eyes and talking face-to-face."

  "...Meteos, you're not seriously considering going to Annonrial mainland, are you?" Arthur frowned and asked him pointedly. "Even after everything, that's still dangerous."

  "I know. But what if I used a Magia as a surrogate?"

  "......Hmph. Clever, aren't you?"

  At Arthur's returning deadpan look, Meteos smiled cheekily for the first time in what felt like ages. Wonders of technology allow for such conveniences. This was why ever since he was little, Meteos loved being an inventor.

  ...Back before Legiel, before Kagaseo, before Japan. Those were simpler times, but unfortunately also one steeped in blissful ignorance.

  Just as the shift ended, Arthur and Meteos glanced at their wristwatches simultaneously. The hologram flickered off as Meteos dismissed it.

  "Finally," the silverette exhaled as he stood up and stretched his arms. "Time to unwind a bit."

  However, Arthur arched an eyebrow, unimpressed at his remark.

  "By that, you mean locking yourself in your workshop and brainstorming another world-shaking invention, don't you?"

  "After all the World's Defense Line stuff that happened recently, I find it relaxing enough just to return to the simple activities we enjoyed when we still didn't know any better."

  Meteos chuckled. His friends knew him too well.

  "I mean, it's about time for that agenda, right?"

  "Ah, right. I suppose it is," Arthur conceded with a shrug. "So, do you have any plans this afternoon? Or do you want to visit the place?"

  "Yes. I'd like to."

  …………

  Exiting the Magic Technology System Development Facility, Meteos and Arthur noticed Walman walking toward them, holding a paper bag.

  "Look who's coming to work," Meteos jokingly called out.

  "And look who's heading out just to work even harder than he does here," Walman shot back.

  "Oh, not this time. We're just going to drive around town for a bit."

  "Liar."

  Walman snorted, shaking his head.

  "Anyway, here."

  Meteos took the paper bag offered by Walman, and the warm, spicy aroma of fried chicken immediately hit him. He peeked inside, finding crispy golden pieces, glistening with just the right amount of heat.

  "Thanks."

  "Sure, sure. Alright, I'm off."

  "Take care!"

  With a casual wave, Walman headed inside the facility while Meteos and Arthur made their way to the parking lot. Arthur's car, an even more cutting-edge Tonitrus E-segment car compared to the one he owned in the Second Timeline, hummed to life as they embarked, its operation smooth as they set off. Meteos settled into the passenger seat, setting the bag of fried chicken between them and plucking out a piece. The spice was perfect—just enough to sting, not enough to overwhelm.

  However, as he enjoyed the snack bought by his friend, Meteos' countenance turned pensive.

  "...Mr. Arkland."

  "Hm?"

  "You saw it, right? The way Walman acted just now. So carefree and innocent..."

  Arthur kept his eyes on the road, but he quietly nodded. "I did," he admitted.

  Meteos sighed, leaning back in his seat. "How long do you think we can keep him—no, all of my friends—out of the loop about these White Lotus matters?"

  After keeping it to himself for who knows how long, Meteos finally voiced his fears in a moment of vulnerability as the vision of a certain future event played in his mind from time to time. Meteos, who now saw the involvement in the world's shadowy affairs as a burden, wished for his friends to live carefree lives, leaving the weight of responsibility to the adults.

  The situation was ever rapidly changing. Meteos and Walman's recruitment into the Secret Department hadn't been on amiable terms. Before meeting Kagaseo directly and learning the truth, Meteos had intended to assemble people of talent to help fortify the Holy Empire. But after all these mind-numbing events unfolded, those plans lost their urgency and with them, the need to drag those talented people into confronting this world's shadows, at least for the foreseeable future.

  "Your question is about when? Not if?" Arthur said, picking up the nuance.

  "Indeed. Somehow... I don't believe for a second that someone as brilliant and earnest as they are would remain ignorant forever. The question is whether we can render the cause unneeded anymore before they're forced to get involved—or the cause to come at them first."

  Meteos wasn't na?ve, but that was conscience.

  While conscience can sometimes hinder progress, even if Meteos hadn't developed one to protect his friends, the adorers of a dystopian state of being such as Legiel and the Civilization Annihilation Game would relish seeing humanity abandon what makes them human just to justify their genocidal designs. In short, even if it wasn't driven by Meteos' idealism, it was a question pertaining to humanity's right to exist.

  Meteos didn't even know what's easier: fighting an all-out war against a genocidal alien invader to maintain that right, or having humanity simply be better.

  At least, Princess Lugiel had convinced the Emperor to issue a strict decree forbidding the future recruitment of underage children into the Order of the Ancients' cause. It was a reform for a more idealistic Holy Empire, born from the haunting legacy of the past where jaded leaders had gambled with the lives of the young for the "greater good." Robin was the most recent of such cases: a brilliant operative scarred in ways no youth should ever know.

  You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.

  That reform had been a victory, no doubt, a bright signal that the new era wanted to be better than the last. But talent, when it burned as brightly as Meteos', drew attention like moths to flame, and those who saw him as a strategic asset rather than a "growing boy" would always find ways to justify their hunger. Now forbidden to touch until he came of age, yet with the world's situation hardly improving, Meteos' existence had become like a piece of meat dangling before starving lions—those who prowled the upper echelons of the world's shadow societies, eyeing him as more asset than person.

  Arthur could sense the intention behind Meteos' question. The boy wasn't just worried about his friends stumbling into danger—he was afraid that his decisions would be the ones to drag them in.

  Living a double life was incredibly difficult when forming bonds with others, but Arthur didn't want to be a hypocrite by telling Meteos to simply sever those ties. After all, he too had a sister, a loving wife, and a son.

  With so many things to consider, Arthur let the silence settle for a while.

  "...At the very least... we should protect them until they're proper adults. Until they can choose for themselves," he muttered. "I know it's almost impossible to hope for a perfect scenario. The world might force their hands anyway. But... we owe them that much. A childhood free from this insanity, if we can manage it."

  "...It's not enough, but it's better than nothing."

  "It is."

  Arthur gave a short nod at Meteos' verdict.

  "But look at the bright side: your influence has satisfied the leadership's needs so thoroughly that they no longer feel the same urgency to take desperate measures. While politics might challenge your family's practical monopoly, I think you've already accounted for that. Would I be wrong?"

  Meteos chuckled, raising his hands in a 'you got me' gesture. The powerset he possessed did allow him to unravel—or at least streamline—the byzantine dynamics of the Holy Milishial Empire's politics, both on the surface and in the deep state. Without this advantage, even with his foresight from the future, he would have remained just another insignificant pawn in the system—exactly as he and Walman had been as agents back in the First Timeline.

  Given how events unfolded in this Third Timeline, Meteos decided it would be perfectly acceptable if Walman was recruited by the Secret Department later than in the original timeline—or even avoided joining altogether. After the trauma of dealing with his death, Meteos couldn't bear to see his oldest friend endure such an indignity again.

  "......Some relaxing getaway this turned out to be," the boy sighed. "Once again, I couldn't stop myself from saying too much."

  "Hn. As if you ever hold back with your words in the first place."

  "Ugh... I'm trying."

  Along with the lull between conversation topics, the view outside gradually shifted from the greenery of San Redentore District to the sprawling urban landscape of its southwestern neighbor.

  ?????

  Ministry of Foreign Affairs, Albion District, Runepolis

  Baron Lewis Maddock, the Holy Milishial Empire's Foreign Minister, loved basking in his nation's prestige as foreign dignitaries all but groveled at his feet during their visits. Yet, to his credit, he remained competent enough to uphold professionalism in his duties. After all, that was how he had caught the Emperor's eye and secured his position in the first place. Though a smug opportunist at times, he was fundamentally a good man, and certain events as of late had made him understand that nothing lasts forever. This understanding drove him to focus on building a legacy worthy of respect.

  Not that it was particularly difficult. His tenure had been marked by two strokes of good fortune with each shocking moment that occurred, one after another.

  While Maddock was poring over the latest diplomatic brief from the Leiforian sphere of influence, he was interrupted by a sharp knock on the polished double doors of his office.

  "Enter," he said, not looking up.

  The doors opened with a low creak, and in stepped a bespectacled official sporting the pin of the Central International Affairs Department. Following a customary bow, he stepped forward and presented a neatly bound dossier.

  "Your Excellency, the arrangements for the dispatch to the next World Conference have been finalized."

  "Good," Maddock quipped, extending a hand where the documents were placed delicately into it. After giving them a glance, he scrawled his signature in a bold, looping hand at the bottom of the confirmation sheet, then handed it back.

  The Torkia and Revizuela Kingdoms from the First Civilization Area, the Nigrat Union and Sonal Kingdom from the Second Civilization Area, and still the Riem Kingdom from the Third Civilization Area.

  Entering the second half of odd-numbered years, the Holy Empire's Foreign Ministry would begin notifying attendees for the next year's Eleven Countries Leadership Conference. According to the rules, rotating seat participants were allowed to attend two consecutive Conferences before rotation. This was why the Riem Kingdom—the sole rotating participant from its region—had been visibly displeased when the last Conference voted to recognize the Altaras Kingdom as a civilized country PLUS an eligible rotating participant from the Third Civilization Area. Yet the total number of participants remained unchanged.

  Actually, they could have excluded Annonrial who never did anything, but doing so would mean shaking things up now that the Holy Empire was wary that even the slightest movement would tip off the Messiah's regime.

  Not that the rotation truly mattered. The only participants capable of bringing anything noteworthy to Cartalpas was Mu and Emor. And even they couldn't act swiftly.

  The official bowed once more and quickly exited the office.

  "Hmm..."

  The Minister hummed inside the now-quiet office, borderline heretical musings starting to brew in his mind after seeing the regular report for the upcoming biennial World Conference.

  At this rate...

  The Holy Empire's technological supremacy was already undeniable, and it was about to skyrocket even further—spanning centuries ahead of even the next most advanced First Civilization Area country. And with High Charity's logistical prowess, they could supply entire nations with more than just basic necessities. Comfort, stability, prosperity.

  Would they beg for incorporation one day?

  Somehow, the idea now wasn't far-fetched. The Holy Milishial Empire had abandoned conquest after unifying the Middle Lands because there had been no tangible benefit in forcibly colonizing established nations. But now? The disparity was so vast that annexation wouldn't even feel like subjugation—it would be salvation. The Holy Empire wouldn't just be rulers; they would be uplifters, dragging stagnant civilizations into the future.

  Just as the Second Milishial Emperor, Astra of the Triumphant Star, intended.

  Will it even happen, though?

  The thought lingered, but only time would tell.

  ?????

  Ministry of Military Affairs, Albion District, Runepolis

  In another building, the resident Minister was also deep in thought, pacing around with a bundle of papers in his hand under the gaze of Valen Gaizengan, the visiting Navarch of the recently-formed Imperial Guard Fleet.

  "Hmm... making sense of this beautiful mess is harder than I thought," muttered Minister Ignis as he skimmed through the papers.

  Those were very rough notes for the Imperial Navy's restructuring plan. Typically, this task would fall to his subordinate, the Secretary of the Navy, but Ignis couldn't afford to delay especially since the navy was the face of the Holy Empire's military might.

  "What is the problem, exactly?"

  Ignis turned to the only other man in the room and chuckled.

  "No, it's just I'm still working out how to position our new assets without raising suspicions in the south. It's incredible how the Annonrial Empire concealed their real power all this time."

  "By meticulously killing trespassers?" Gaizengan offered.

  "That was a rhetorical question."

  The Minister snorted.

  Currently, the Holy Empire's naval assets were spread across seven Numbered Fleets, the Zeroth Magic Fleet, three Regional (Dinosaur) Fleets, the Advanced Naval Training Command (effectively serving as a submarine fleet), the Imperial Guard Fleet, and the Aerial Fleet Command. These were informally classified into three groups based on their technological sophistication: "Senescent," "Transitory," and "Neoteric."

  The Senescent Group comprised outdated designs predating the Roguerider family's rise to prominence. These were the oldest and most obsolete ships still in Imperial Navy service, including battleships with guns smaller than 16 inches and catamaran carriers. The group consisted of:

  - 13 Tizon-pattern and 8 Khazidhea-pattern battleships (Steel class),

  - 7 Ascendant Justice-pattern aircraft carriers (Silver class),

  - 21 Atgeir-pattern heavy cruisers (Steel class),

  - 29 Bident-pattern light cruisers (Steel class), and

  - 40 Tagger-pattern small ships (Steel class)

  The Transitory Group represented the pinnacle of naval technology before Meteos Roguerider revolutionized warfare yet again with pedanium-based magic technology. Though these ships relied on guns as their primary armament, some could be upgraded with guided magic munitions. Amusingly, they were rendered obsolete by the Neoteric Group before some of them were even left their shipyards. The group included:

  - 3 Alastor-pattern battleships (Silver class) with 356 mm guns,

  - 8 Callandor-pattern battleships (Gold class) with 406 mm guns (under construction),

  - 5 Sparda-pattern battleships (Mithril class) with 406 mm guns (recently laid down),

  - 3 Orphan Wolf Legend-pattern aircraft carriers,

  - 22 Longinus-pattern heavy cruisers (Steel class),

  - 23 Trishula-pattern light cruisers (Steel class),

  - 15 Aram-pattern light cruisers (Silver class) (only a third under construction),

  - 114 Kris-pattern and 64 Parazonium-pattern small ships (Steel class), and

  - 14 Pattern I, 50 Pattern II, 100 Pattern III, and 8 Pattern IV U-boats

  With these warships alone, the Holy Empire maintained a formidable fleet of 547 vessels, boasting the largest naval tonnage in the known world.

  Then came the Neoteric Group, made up of the most advanced warships a man could dream of, armed primarily with guided munitions. The group included:

  - 4 Tlaloc-pattern battleships (ADOR Type 011) with 460 mm guns,

  - 2 Apollogeist-pattern supercarriers (ADOR Type 001),

  - 8 Torreana-pattern magic missile cruisers (ADOR Type 021),

  - 12 Aracnea Rubor-pattern magic missile destroyers (ADOR Type 031), and

  - Numerous airships, including Guldthunder-pattern skyprowlers

  Once High Charity was finished and its logistical advantages became clear, these formidable weapons—part of the Imperial Guard Fleet and Aerial Fleet Command—were kept well out of sight whenever possible as they continued to master their new toys, stashed away in remote locations like the Hyperborean Circle or deep within the Middle Lands' wasteland.

  "So far, I'd say we're doing just fine when it comes to hiding our true strength," Gaizengan remarked.

  "Maybe, but we can't keep that up forever. That's why I'm thinking about a sort of release mechanism to make our increase in power seem as natural as possible to outsiders."

  "Let me guess, pushing for a naval expansion bill?"

  "Well, yes," Ignis shrugged. "Here, see for yourself."

  Ignis handed the papers to Gaizengan, who promptly scrutinized it.

  1. Naval Expansion and Reorganization Outline

  - Proposal to raise the current seven Numbered Fleets to at least eight, with the possibility of further expansion.

  - Creation of a dedicated naval command overseeing the southern region facing the Veriare Sea, bringing the total Numbered Fleets to at least eleven.

  - Formation of a dedicated maritime unit focused on convoy protection, anti-piracy operations, and rapid response to regional crises.

  2. Naval Expansion "Funding" and Asset Liquidation Outline

  - Offload outdated vessels of the Senescent Group still in service to allied and neutral nations.

  - Offer Transitory Group ships under construction except for the battleships.

  - Utilizing conventional shipyards to maintain activity, develop and market "budget-friendly" warships (for the HME's standards, that is, such as light carriers, light cruisers, small ships) to foreign nations under the guise of "global security cooperation" against the Ravernal Empire, even the Annonrial Empire.

  "Is that it? That can't be it," Gaizengan commented after he finished with the reading.

  "Cut me some slack, keeping so many things in mind to avoid skewing the balance is hard. Besides, that's only the rough outline of the plan."

  The Navarch paid the Minister's grumbling no mind and handed the papers back to Ignis.

  "Well, raising the world's technological base is one way of doing it."

  "I know, right? It used to be harder to achieve, but with High Charity, there's really no need for concern."

  "Hn."

  The completion of High Charity was also a key reason why Gaizengan's Imperial Guard Fleet could be finished and begin training this early in complete secrecy. Originally, the fleet's ships were to be produced at Cauldron Ur near Runepolis. However, High Charity was completed soon after, allowing an equivalent Cauldron to be established at Tarpian Rock up north, where the Imperial Guard Fleet's warships were ultimately constructed. The Hyperborean Circle, shielded from prying eyes, provided an ideal training ground, allowing the fleet to treat it as their backyard unlike at Cauldron Ur where even moving the ships out unnoticed would have been a major challenge. It was indeed an oversight, but one that was corrected so swiftly that Gaizengan had no time to criticize it.

  It was rather amusing that while they were unmasking the Annonrial Empire, the Holy Empire was putting a mask to hide its true power, just like Annonrial itself.

  "But you know, selling off these ships is going to strangle Mu's exports yet again. Another entry in the ever-growing list of Mu's ventures snuffed out by the Holy Empire's shadow."

  Ignis snorted.

  "Please, you're overestimating their appeal. Their nonmagical marvels haven't been impressive for years. The only reason they still had a market was because no one else was selling. Now that we're offering superior products at prices their factories can't match, what are they left with? Exotic playthings for rich princes who want to show off how 'foreign' they are."

  In the first place, magic technology was simply machinery that operated using mana, and more sophisticated devices no longer siphon energy from individuals. Over time, technological progress made these tools accessible even to those without any innate mana reserves. Given this, Ignis found the Muish conservatives' stubborn resistance to adopting any form of magic technology irrational. If they continued to reject it outright, they couldn't possibly hope to compete in the magic-dominated global market.

  "They can have the small arms market, maybe aviation. Those we can convert into magical devices free of charge."

  The Minister then shook his head and waved a hand dismissively.

  "Well, I'll leave correcting them to the White Lotus Leader and trade talks to Minister Edith. They're more suited for this sort of game anyway." A pause, then a grin tugged at his lips. "Though I must say, the title 'Minister Edith' does have a nice ring to it."

  Gaizengan glanced up with a questioning eyebrow when Ignis suddenly went off tangent.

  "What? I'm just glad. Took long enough for her to get one that matched her actual influence."

  A recent government reform bill had been passed, with the most noticeable change being the streamlining of official titles such as those of the Council of Imperial Ministers. In the past, aristocrats appointed to the Council were styled as Ministers, while commoners, no matter how competent or senior, were saddled with the title Director. It was a relic from a more stratified age, and now deemed not only archaic but inefficient. Although the Holy Milishial Empire was indeed moving to curtail feudalism, progress in the modern age had been far slower compared to the Holy Empire's founding days.

  However, the bill abolished the distinction entirely. Now, every ministry head would bear the title of Minister, irrespective of their background. For someone like Edith, once a "Director" despite serving as the Holy Empire's chief trade negotiator and economic strategist, it was a long-overdue recognition of her status.

  Even if it was just a trivial change of title, both men keenly felt they had just witnessed the beginnings of a new world order.

  ?????

  MOASEC Aerial System Development Facility, San Redentore District, Runepolis

  "Hot damn, check out these planes! Is this place turning into a museum or what!?"

  One red-haired man exclaimed in delight as he stepped into the large hangar, where a sizable crowd had already gathered. His blonde colleague, trying to quiet him down, shot back irritably.

  "Don't forget that we're not here just to gawk around, we've got work to do!"

  "Bah, you're no fun. Who said that working and having fun are mutually exclusive?"

  "Ugh, I hate how you always have a comeback ready."

  As it turned out, aviation technology in the Holy Milishial Empire was also experiencing the impact of the Rogueriders' rise to prominence. Although the Alpha-2 continued to serve as the Imperial Air Force's primary fighter for the time being, development had already begun on its replacement—or more accurately, replacements.

  Not only the refurbished Alpha Zero, the inspiration for all Heavenly Vessels, present, there were also designs more sophisticated than Alpha-2 bearing codenames such as "Tiger," "Cobra," "Hornet," "Rhino," and "Ghost," to name a few.

  What was unusual this time was that the entire projected lineage of the next-generation aircraft was already on display in this hangar as fully operational planes, complete with engines, internal systems, and all necessary components courtesy of Ace Roguerider. In short, if anyone attempted to fly these, they would be fully capable of taking to the skies.

  Then, what was even the purpose of gathering these people here?

  For a more idealistic, noble Holy Milishial Empire.

  True to one of its functions, which was to serve the people (particularly in advanced education), the MOASEC was launching a new initiative to bring engineers and partners from design bureaus (companies) up to speed on integrating pedanium technologies into their operation. After all, there was already a precedent for this: when Alpha-1, entirely developed by the MOASEC, was rolled out as the Holy Empire's first aerial combat machine. They then trained the interested parties—those who would establish design bureaus and later submit military equipment proposals for evaluation. And that was how the Alpha-2 was listed as being designed (primarily) by the Runes Valletta Academy of Magic.

  At that moment, the man's colleague pointed toward a large mockup near the center of the hangar floor, where a structure they never seen before stood out. This structure, painted in light gray, stretched long and low like a bridge. But at its far end, it bent upward, curling toward the ceiling in a wide, arcing ramp that evoked the image of a great leap into the heavens. Intrigued, the two men stepped closer, examining the peculiar design.

  "Now what is this supposed to be?"

  As they neared the base of the structure, taking in the subtle ridges lining its side, a sudden voice caught them off guard.

  "Aha! Fellow men of culture, I see."

  Startled, both men turned to the right where a woman had appeared seemingly out of nowhere. Dressed in a beige trench coat over a shirt and pants with a red scarf draped loosely around her shoulders, her glasses glinted under the hangar's artificial lights.

  "Huh?"

  "Oh, where are my manners? My name is Robin Calvello, member of the Ancient Ministry's General Affairs Department."

  "Ah, I'm Khors Belobog, and this is Arnim Landau. Together, we represent the Belobog Heavy Industries... We were invited all the way out here by MOASEC. Supposedly for... technology integration initiative?"

  Robin didn't blame them for their uncertainty. After all, the invitation had been intentionally ambiguous. But at the mention of their company, her expression brightened with recognition.

  "Belobog? That's a name I haven't heard here before—but I've seen your work. You operate on the East Coast, right?"

  "Wait, you do?"

  "I mean, you wouldn't be here otherwise."

  Khors scratched the back of his head modestly. "Guess that makes sense."

  The corporation was a rising industrial group in the northern East Coast, in the Zaftra Province where Robin's student Nadia came from.

  "Well, gentlemen, I couldn't help but notice the way you were examining our Mass Driver mockup, so I just came along to say hello," the woman said with a grin, gesturing to the structure.

  "Mass... Driver?"

  Khors raised an eyebrow while trying the unfamiliar term.

  "Yep! Think of it as a supercharged version of the MALS catapults used on our aircraft carriers. You know what I'm saying?"

  "I see. In other words, it's an infrastructure to launch airplanes?" Arnim asked.

  Furrowing his brow slightly, the blonde man's mind raced through the implications. If this Mass Driver can launch large aircraft, does it eliminate the need for long runways? Could it make takeoffs faster and more efficient?

  Robin, noticing his thoughtful expression, smiled meaningfully and shook her head.

  "Oh, you're thinking too small, friend. With this Mass Driver, we are building a bridge!"

  "B-bridge...?"

  "Exactly. A beautiful bridge that will span into Kosmos, the Final Frontier of Mankind!"