Three great warships approached the northern tip on the Schweiglands. Two cruisers, each carrying six guns in two turrets trailed behind the massive flagship that carried twice the armament. The blue flag of the hydra and crossed tridents fluttered atop the lead vessel. Not far behind the trio were roughly a dozen smaller crafts. Aboard these were men in blue and white uniforms who carried either sword or gun. They were watching the rugged coast tensely as the sea cradled their vehicles past each islet.

On the flagship's control deck window were two men whose clothing stood out among the sailors manning the controls. One was a portly gentleman whose overcoat hung on his shoulders; the other was a towering man who donned a suit of rigid, yet well-sloped metal plates.

These two commanded the naval force that was surveying the islets. Reports of a strange phenomenon on one of the islands came from a fishing ship that strayed in the Schweiglands. A chain of fireballs was fired out of nowhere and almost succeeded in incinerating both ship and crew. the survivors of the attack were able to set sail to Alberta to tell the tale of the ill-fated venture. It was Cecil von Schild, Lord of Alberta and senior officer of the Imperial Guard, who proposed to send an expeditionary force in the southern islet group in hopes of uncovering the source of the attack. Many of his colleagues found Cecil's move outrageous – a contingent the size of a task group was deemed to be overkill for such a simple mission. Theories behind the assaulted fishing boat ranged from an unknown beast to a rogue magician hiding in the Schweiglands. The Albertan noble was able to deploy such a force in assuring the place's safety before a scientific investigation team can be sent.

The armor-wearer who was among those commanding the force had other reasons for scouting the Schweighlands.

No known beast would attack a fishing ship on purpose, and such monsters would have presented a spectacle for the Empire's scientific community. He thought more about the possibility of the perpetrator doing it hidden from view. If the islets really had human occupants, only one group was thought to be capable of such a feat – someone the Imperial Armed Forces had been looking for years.

It was the syndicate run by a man known only as the Gray Fox – a merchant who specialized in arms smuggling and developing forbidden or unfamiliar technologies. He was speculated to be a foreigner from the Eastern Continent who brought illegal weapons and chemicals to Kriemreich and its neighboring states. These paraphernalia were much sought for by the various crime groups operating within the country; the Gray Fox's products were known to be effective, reliable and were sold at lower prices compared to other weapons dealers. His rise and eventual dominance in the weapons black market caused the constant appearances of small armed groups, and the worry of law enforcers to keep them in low numbers. Their swelling ranks and the trouble they caused prompted the empire to allow the Army to work with the constables.

Putting an end to the source of the illegal armaments was what the military decided to act on, and Lord Cecil would be embroiled in a hidden war with the Gray Fox that lasted for three years. Months passed and each captured syndicate hub or cell led no closer to his whereabouts; even the arrested leaders could not give anything to make a path to the invisible crime lord.

The case of the burnt fishing boat was a start. No solid points were found and the Albertan general's lead relied only on speculation; approval to deploy the task group came solely from Cecil. If his gamble was right, the kingdom would be finally rid of the most notorious death merchant in its history; failure to link the incident to the syndicate leader would be the greatest blunder done by a Imperial Guardsman.

"This better lead to something Cecil," said the bearded man with the hung overcoat. "Surely our peers at Blaurosen would laugh at us if we get nothing from this. We might even have egg on our faces."

"I feel that we are close, Ludwig." Cecil's right hand crumpled into a steely fist. "This is a great victory if I am right."

"Having the famous hunch again I see. Although we never had an instance of you being wrong with your gut feeling, I'd say this expedition is pushing it beyond the limit." The other commanding officer took his pipe and blew a puff; a fading white cloud dissolved on its ascent.

"I know, but something tells me that I will find it."

One of the control deck officers leaped up to the commanders after confirming something using the ship's telescope.

"You must see this Admiral!"

The telescope was shifted to the left when Ludwig approached it. It was an unnatural prismatic field; four walls that kept the area it contained hidden from view with the use of transparent mirrors that deformed and displaced the space inside it. At the foot of the artificial mirage was the sea stopped by four invisible barriers.

"By the Creator Cecil. I've never seen anything like this!"

"I'll assemble the men." Lord Cecil von Schild put his helmet on. His voice became a hollow vibration as his breath passed through the mouthpiece. "You know what to do; I'm sure you wouldn't want to be ordered by a mere foot soldier."

Preparations for the attack went underway; signal flags were flown from the lead battleship to the other members of the formation. Ten out of twelve troopships began moving past the three warships that were starting to come on their broadsides. The great guns were aimed at the baffling spectacle of the islets. Only one barrel roared; the shell struck the lower right of the unseen wall and exploded harmlessly. Smog from the blast cleared and revealed a slightly disturbed surface; what was revealed to the men of the ship was not only was the spectral layer meant to fool lookers, but it also acted as an invisible barrier that dissolved the force of the shell before it returned to its aurora-like state. No volleys from the other naval guns followed; from the flagship's superstructure raised four smoke clouds. A trail of wispy lines led to four cylindrical projectiles, each with a crystalline warhead. All of them crackled and disintegrated upon hitting the "roof" of the unknown field. There were eight to nine explosions above and below the prismatic cloak; the dissipation of the concealing field started revealing a vast citadel whose guns were trained on the naval force.

Large black barrels protruding from domes were a sight of awe and terror to the attacking troops; they were expecting ruffians sitting on poorly-constructed defenses. The fact that the operation was something comparable to attacking another nation's army gave them a rude awakening.

They were soon to learn that the opposing guns were not merely for show; cannonfire roared from the emplacements.

Shells from the enemy's defenses screamed towards the battlegroup; towers and screens of water rose as high as the flagship's deck.

Cries of whistles were lost to the thunder of the warships' arsenal. A shell from the second cruiser reduced the northeast coastal gun to a mass of rubble and burning metal. The rest of the shore battery replied to the initial salvo. Two of the troop carriers were being swallowed by the sea after enemy shells screeched and bore through their hulls. Those who made it to the beach were welcomed by fiery tongues and erupted earth from the fortress' lesser guns.

Lord Cecil's troopship was the last to beach after being grazed by one of the fortress guns; the spalled upper left side of the hull was a ghastly reminder of the near-miss. One of the wall emplacements caught sight of their landing and fired a shell at the vessel after lowering its ramp. The veteran commander managed to raise his shield after seeing the gun barrel aimed at the craft. Down came an ear-grating screech, followed by swirling blanket of red and yellow flames that gave rise to a dense black cloud. A gust of wind revealed a bright light patterned after a giant heater shield; to the defenders' dismay, none of the ship's occupants perished in the blast. Commander and soldiers braved the defenses after a well-placed shell from the flagship brought down the large iron door that led to the interior of the coastal facility. Cecil gave a quick look at his men; the gleaming sword pointed at the now-opened gates.

"Forward!"

Most of the batteries were reduced to flaming ruins by the Albertan navymen; what enemy cannons remained intact were abandoned by the fortress defenders in fear of the upcoming infantry attack. Most of them ran towards the fortress interior – the next stage of the battle. Taking over the first and third buildings of the compound was done with relatively few casualties due to the fact that most of the defenders were still regrouping after the fall of the coastal defensive lines. Windows of the first and third buildings were converted to firing holes; the defenders would open fire at the advancing blue wave and retreat or cower behind the thick walls. The defense was daring, yet it could not withstand the blows of a more organized force. Men who tried to pick their targets were taken down by the Albertan snipers; a few bodies fell out of the windows and were trampled by the onrushing blue force.

The first and third buildings were cleared of hostile units in minutes; the unstoppable blue body was poised to take the second and fourth buildings of the facility.

A company under the Duke of Alberta's command detached from the main attack force and headed towards the great tower; there was a cavity on its top section that disturbed the building's conical form. Cecil found it not possible for the chaffing canisters to damage fortifications to such a great extent; something must have happened before their attack. The general caught sight of two dozen men fleeing from the firefight; half of them were wearing long white garbs. One of the escapees caught the commander's attention – a man with a metal left hand. The artificial limb brought something back from an old report he read:

"The Gray Fox was rumored to be one-armed."

Cecil's units chased the group on orders. Two dozen riflemen and four swordsmen pursued the escaping assembly but halted when the doors of the fourth building burst open; the wood and metal barrier scraped the ground and stopped with a soft crash. What the soldiers saw after the scuds of dust settled delayed them further. A giant rock-skinned creature towered above the Albertan combatants. It stared at the group with a dumb face; its crystal-toothed mouth hung agape. The knight commander stood in front of his men; he was further intrigued by the metal crown it wore. The red stone at the center glowed once; the creature let out an agonized roar and hammered both fists to the ground before it charged at the blue-uniformed formation.

"Captain, continue the pursuit." Cecil addressed a sword-wielding officer to his right before raising his shield at the rushing giant. The swordsman nodded in affirmation and led the rest of the company out of the enraged beast's path.

Cecil's blue cape fluttered in the wind; the Duke of Alberta held his sword tight with the point held away. The monster lifted a stony fist, pumping a punch from the shoulder. There was a loud clang, followed by the sounds of scraped earth and brimstone. The force of the blow that could crush anyone only sent the soldier eight yards away from where he stood.

"Strong indeed..."

Shield poised ahead, the knight commander lunged at the behemoth and met another shattering punch. The sword strike came from below; its blade came in contact with the creature's other arm. Both forces were cancelled out; the monster's arm flailed as Cecil's grip on his weapon wobbled. His arm managed to control the trembling sword before he stepped back and assumed a shielding stance.

"Clearly, I can't wound this creature with such an attack..."

Again, the blade was pointed away. Light took over the silvery sheen of the sword until it bore a soft white glow. Cecil charged; his weapon hummed in the advance. The opposing giant must have realized the new attack and responded by hammering both fists at him. There was a ground-shattering crash that sent pieces of the floor into the air. The armored combatant used the force of the blow to dodge the strike to the left. He used the half-buried limbs as leverage to give the sword the space it needed.

The general's impetuous swing allowed the sword to find its way to the monster's neck and pass through it in a shrill falsetto slurp. Black fluid oozed out of the wound, followed by the giant's head rolling to the ground. A soft grumble traveled and was absorbed by the earth when the creature was brought to its knees.

Cecil leapt back from the now-decapitated opponent; his sword returned to its natural metallic hue. He rallied a fresh squad to follow the first pursuing group and led them to an undefended fifth building. The captain of the first group was at the entrance; the rest of the soldiers formed an arc at the open doorway to the interior.

"We caught up with most of them; only three managed to take refuge here. Your orders, my Lord?"

"I need you and a dozen others with me. Have the rest block all the exits."

"Right away." The captain placed a right fist on his chest before shouting orders to the awaiting soldiers.

The general's group was led to a white hall devoid of the Gray Fox's guns. Inside the first floor was another open doorway leading to an empty chamber. The masked man with a mechanical left arm awaited his would-be-captors. Only two men in laboratory gowns were with him; their guns were brandished at the entering troops.

"Cast your arms aside and come with us, Gray Fox." The hulking armored commander was in front of his men; his sword pointed at the beaten syndicate leader.

"Remarkable. You have dispatched my creature so easily. I did not expect my time to flee from here would be cut so short." The crime lord scanned the Albertan troops on the other side of the chamber; rifle bolts were pulled, their bullets were ready to be ejected with a squeeze of the trigger. "Should I choose to come with you or not, it only leads to one end for me. I have no intention of being stopped here."

"This battle is over." General von Schild addressed the surrounded party. He took two steps closer to them. "What is left of your men will soon fall with your bastion."

"It may be so. My fortress overrun, my men slain." The round, obsidian eyes of the Gray Fox's mask glimmered in the light. A free arm swung to a panel on the wall. The chamber doors slammed shut much to the surprise of the arresting party. Several tubes protruded from the walls and made soft hisses. "I will not lose so long as I stand!"

A green atmosphere took the space in minutes; the baffled arresting party fell one by one to the floor. It was too late for the general to react as the malicious atmosphere crept inside his helm. His strength was ebbing away as more of the gas entered his body. He was on his knees at first until he mustered whatever was left of his strength to throw his sword at the masked scientist. The blade barely left the commander's grasp and clattered to the floor. Cecil von Schild slumped to the ground, defeated by the effects of the chemical.

"I cannot hope to match you with the sword, but I still have the upper hand." A triumphant Gray Fox toggled a few buttons on the wall panel. A trapdoor that led underground opened behind him. "Take the commander with us. I will have good use for a man of his prowess."

The two aides slung their guns and hastily dragged the general to the secret stairway. The masked scientist was the last to descend; the doors to the passage closed after the three vacated the gassed room.

Meanwhile, resistance outside was thinning away. Most of the fortress defenders had fallen to the Albertan force; those who survived opted to surrender to the attackers rather than share the fate of their slain cohorts. The fortress defenders were lined up; weapons were thrown in a pile while the Albertans bound their arms. The entire fortress compound was cleared of resistance, except the fifth building where soldiers gathered around and expected their commander return with a captured Gray Fox, or with the crime lord's corpse. Minutes passed and no Cecil von Schild nor the men who were with him emerged from the open doorway. One of the captains finally decided not to wait for them.

"You there," an officer spoke to a band of riflemen. "Come with... what in the Creator's name...!?" There was a chain of seven explosions, followed by the collapse of the entire fifth building. The surrounding parties were swallowed by a great cloud of dust and debris.