August 8, 1639

Gra Valkas Empire

In a spire overlooking the beautiful industrial cityscape of the Gra Valkan capital, Ragna, a man in an authoritative trench coat stood by a window, admiring the scenery. He lifted a mug to his mouth, sipping his coffee as he took a short break. After a moment, he sighed, returning back to work. He exited his office, emerging into a chaotic, yet organized workspace full of bulky radios, electronic equipment, and busy technicians.

“Deputy Director,” a technician saluted before him, holding a telegram report.

“What do you have for me, Mister Brisch?” Deputy Director Akkan asked.

“Sir, we’ve received the reports from our spies in the easternmost continent of Rodenius. Several hours ago, they sent a data package containing information about the new country that had turned the tide against the Lourian forces. Because these spies were situated in the capital and subjected to a local Lourian information quarantine and propaganda campaign, we haven’t been able to find out about these newcomers sooner…”

Director Akkan took another sip from his mug as he pondered the news. “Hmm, that is fine,” he waved his hand. “What matters is that the information arrived. Who are these newcomers?”

Brisch read the report in his hands, “The newcomers identify as a transferred nation known as the United States of America. They claim to be a mechanical nation, but the reports from our spies are quite… in the realm of fantasy, maybe even science-fiction.”

Akkan set his mug down and leaned his back on a table as he grabbed the report from Brisch’s hands. “Science fiction?” He began reading through the battle reports.

“Yes, sir,” Brisch placed his hands behind his back as he recited the information from memory, a skill reflective of the Gra Valkas Intelligence Bureau’s talent. “These Americans possess technologies similar to ours, albeit differing slightly. Their fleets are predominantly composed of what we assume are light cruisers, with few heavy cruisers and carriers in the mix. The primary armament of their naval vessels consist of a large cannon, about four to six inches in caliber. It seems that they primarily rely on their carrier-based aircraft for offensive and defensive missions, considering that their cannons are peashooters.”

Akkan placed the paper down on the table and looked up at the ceiling, deep in thought. “Fascinating. I’ve heard rumors about the overwhelming effectiveness of naval aircraft… Of course, these were only battle simulations against the Divine Kingdom of Kain, and not actual combat. How exactly do their planes justify such a drastic difference in naval doctrine?”

“Their planes are capable of breaking the sound barrier. They employ a swept wing design and rely on some sort of propulsion at the back, rather than a propeller in the front of the plane. These planes can either be equipped with bombs — which implies that the Americans are likely familiar with the use of bombs during naval combat — or a magical weapon. The locals call it a ‘homing light arrow’, along with a few other variations. These arrows are capable of following hostile targets and destroying them via an internal payload.”

Akkan sighed, “I was wondering when magic would become a pain in our asses. Things like this make me slightly fearful about the people of this world,” he said, shaking his head. “Send this information to the Information Technology Department. Let them handle this nonsense…”

“Yes, sir.” Brisch turned around, preparing to go to his desk and grab a copy of the report.

“Ah, wait. Do we have any updates on those barbarians in what’s it called… Paganda?”

“Sir, the analysis of their forces has been completed and the national oversight army is ready to deliver punishment. We have a battleship and carrier task force currently heading to Paganda as we speak.”

“That sounds a bit overkill given the primitive nature of these barbarians,” Akkan’s lips curved upward, “But they definitely deserve it. If only I could witness their demise…”

——

Gra Valkas National Oversight Army

En Route to the Kingdom of Paganda

A gaunt veteran viewed the incoming wyverns from the bridge of his ship. Captain Luxtal of the GVS Grade Atlastar rubbed his sideburns and adjusted his cap as the wyverns began to split. Overhead, Antares fighters roared past the fleet. The iconic sounds of their propellers reverberated throughout the once-calm waters, invoking a sense of fear in the primitives and instilling a sense of pride in the champions of Gra Valkas.

The wyverns spit their relatively fireballs at the Antares fighters, proving the accuracy of their intelligence reports. The incoming projectiles were easily dodged by the speedy fighters, whose pilots spared no additional expense aside from banking upward slightly. In what could be called a one-sided — almost laughable — exchange, the proud monoplanes swept down on the fleeing and panicking wyvern knights. Streams of light were emitted from the planes, resulting in a shower of blood that was, until now, unknown to the denizens of Paganda.

Sailing ships came into view, forming a blockade. Luxtal scoffed at the sight, “How pathetic… They still employ sailing ships, and yet they have the audacity to call us barbarians? Tsk, we should have never sent a sailing vessel to make first contact. Some idiots we have in the Foreign Affairs department…”

“Idiots indeed, sir. How would you like us to engage?” An officer asked.

Luxtal responded with a metallic certainty in his voice, reflecting his cold, unforgiving demeanor. “Ram them. Give the order to clear the decks,” he said. After a brief pause, he elaborated, “Wasting shells on their backward, primitive canoes is unnecessary. Save the ammunition for the bombardment. The destroyers can eliminate the survivors,” he said with a dismissive wave of his hand.

The officer was aghast at his captain’s decision, standing silent for two seconds before uttering a response. “It will be done, sir. Glory to the Gra Valkas Empire!” He saluted then left to relay Luxtal’s orders.

The Grade Atlastar pressed onward, followed by her destroyer escorts and a carrier close behind. Meanwhile, Antares fighters moved toward the shores, looking to eliminate any remaining aerial units. Lines of light shot out at varying directions as tracer rounds heralded the initiation of combat over Paganda’s capital.

——

Even without wyvern support, the stalwart defenders stood their ground on the open seas. The monstrous castle of a ship approached them, and they prepared their ballistae and fire arrows. Admiral Laro of the Pagandan Royal Navy quivered where he stood, in awe of the sheer size of the metal behemoth rapidly sailing toward them.

Because of the size, he was unable to accurately determine the distance between his own fleet and that of the lead enemy ship. Forcing himself to stop shaking in fear, he regained his composure and announced his orders. “Wait... We must wait until it gets closer! Do not let its size fool you; we are still out of range,” he spoke into a manacomm. “Defenders of the King, we shall let loose our arsenal…” he paused, counting down mentally, “NOW!”

Dozens of ballista bolts and thousands of arrows were unleashed from the fleet of 50 Pagandan sailing ships. Several cannon shots even joined the fray — these were weapons procured from their mighty benefactor, the superpower Leifor. Admiral Laro now felt confident in his fleet’s power, no longer afflicted by the doubt he had several minutes ago.

The combined weapons fire impacted the large metal behemoths, bouncing off the armor. Most of the ballistae and cannon fire missed the upper decks of the vessel, only hitting the armored hull along its bow. After seeing his assault do no damage to the metal ship, Laro felt his heart drop. His fear returned tenfold upon the additional realization that the alien vessel, despite sustaining ship-destroying damage, was continuing forward at full speed. “They’re not — no... They’re not slowing down!” Admiral Laro stepped backward as the shadow of the immense ship began to engulf his own. “They’re going to run into us; quickly, move!”

“Sir, we can’t! The other ships in the blockade have us trapped, and our rowers cannot move us away in time!” The captain cried out.

“What the fuck?!” He screamed at the captain.

“I’m sorry sir, but we— ack!”

Admiral Laro’s ship, along with a couple others around it, were shattered by the force of a 70,000 ton ship plowing straight through the blockade. Wooden splinters flew from the snapping planks, impaling dozens of Pagandan sailors who were desperately trying to jump into the water. The few who did manage to jump overboard before the monstrous battleship ran into them found themselves in another unfortunate scenario. 70,000 tons of displacement traveling at 27 knots was a painful experience for those caught in the vessel’s path. Blood and wood rose up from the depths, along with the shredded remains of those who had a personal encounter with the Grade Atlastar’s propellers.

The 47 surviving ships of the blockade were subsequently annihilated by the Gra Valkan destroyers, who waited until the Grade Atlastar was at a safe distance. After the almost immediate destruction of the blockade, the fleet of metal ships carved through the watery graveyard to rejoin the flagship. Two destroyers were set aside to assist with rescue operations, much to the dismay of numerous enraged officers who wanted to disregard their old rules of war — rules that no longer applied in this barbaric world.

——

Captain Luxtal lit a cigar while cannon fire echoed in the background. Relishing the sounds of war, he took an enjoyable puff before removing the cigar out of his mouth, holding it with his right hand. He smiled as he exhaled the smoke, eyes glistening in anticipation for Paganda’s punishment.

“Sir, the blockade has been eliminated. What are your orders?”

Luxtal took another puff from his cigar. “Hmm,” he paused dramatically as he released more smoke. “Considering that they showed our royal diplomats no mercy… I think it would be fitting if we gave them the same treatment.” His eyes drifted to the castle in the distance. “What an eyesore. You see that castle over there?” He pointed his finger.

“Yes, sir.”

“I don’t want to see it anymore.”

“Understood, sir. Not even the foundation shall be left standing.”

Captain Luxtal smiled as he watched the main guns of the Grade Atlastar fired, engulfing the Pagandan Royal Castle with the furious vengeance of the Gra Valkas Empire.

——

Off the Coast of Leifor

Aboard the LES Holly, a man clad in a seemingly Napoleonic-era uniform held a scope to his eye. He tracked the singular vessel as it traversed the waves, stoic and undeterred by the 43-ship fleet rushing to meet it. From what he could discern, although massive, the vessel had about a dozen cannons. Comparatively, his flagship had a hundred cannons: 50 for each broadside. The other ships in his command had a similarly staggering number, with most of them being 80-gun ships-of-the-line. He almost felt pity for the lone vessel that had dared provoke the emperor.

“General,” a voice called from behind him.

General Bal put down the scope and turned around, twirling his mustache as he did so. “Yes, captain?”

“Our wyvern knights found no other vessels in the vicinity of the metal ship. It is traveling alone!”

“Ha,” General Bal broke into a smile. “They’ve already grown arrogant due to their victory against the Kingdom of Paganda. Do they not realize who they’re facing? We are one of the great superpowers! Let us dispatch these fools posthaste.”

“Sir,” the captain said with a worried look, “It looks very similar to Mu ships…”

General Bal mused on the appearance of the ship and its mechanical elements. “Hmm, yes. Given the design, I think it is safe to assume this vessel is similar to those of Mu’s, so we should exercise some caution. We might expect casualties, but we should be able to overwhelm it with numbers and firepower. I know not how barbarians have come to employ such a sophisticated vessel, but even Mu’s mechanical navy is not invincible. Have all ships move forward and launch a combined naval and aerial assault with the wyvern knights. Have them coordinate with Knight Captain Dirk.”

The wyvern knights flew in circles above the Holly while the other ships sailed forward, propelled to 12 knots by Leifor’s domestically produced Tears. After a few minutes, the wyvern knights flew away to join their comrades at sea who were now ten kilometers from the enemy. At fifteen kilometers from the metal ship, the wyvern knights expected to arrive slightly early, but this mattered not. Considering the history of Elysian warfare, 40 wyvern lords are more than enough to squash any single enemy, even without the support of a fleet.

However, the flashes of light and smoke from the ship’s guns shattered their antiquated perceptions. A new reality now befell this world, birthed by distant thunder from a ship that would go down in history: the legendary Grade Atlastar.