October 25, 1640

Somewhere in the Artticus Ocean

GVN First Conquest Fleet

GVS Grade Atlastar

Admiral Caesar looked at the transcribed message from Mirkenses, eyes darting back and forth and face remaining emotionless as he read it. The Kainian script was oddly familiar to the Americans’ English alphabet, with the language itself sharing similarities to American English. However, the words and grammar had curious deviations.

Captain Luxtal stood beside Caesar, peering over at the message, but unable to understand it. “I’m surprised you can read Kainian, sir,” he said with a hint of detestment.

“Understanding the enemy is a weapon in and of itself, and it seems the Americans have their own version of these teachings,” Caesar replied, holding up a copy of Sun Tzu’s The Art of War. “Plus, encoding our messages with languages from Yggdra should prove useful for a time, since the Americans have no definitive record of our world’s history or cultures.”

Luxtal nodded, understanding the reasoning behind the navy’s new change. “Who could’ve thought the Kainians would actually be helping us,” he said with a bit of amusement in his tone. “So, what does it say, sir?”

In consideration for his aides and Captain Luxtal, Caesar read aloud, “The Second Conquest Fleet reports success in taking Karvland and Merez. They’ve also completed mine laying operations along the Americans’ standard shipping lanes, so all American convoys are now forced to take a longer route through the Ammoran Ocean near the Annonrial Empire. Battlegroups from the Second Conquest Fleet are now harassing coastal defenses along Mirishial’s southwestern border, while their Pal Chimerae continue to defend their most important ports.”

“That means we’ll have difficulty capturing Hytal Base…” Captain Luxtal pointed out.

Caesar agreed, “An astute observation, Captain.” He walked over to a map of the Artticus Ocean, which was laden with pieces representing Gra Valkan and EDI units. He took a deep breath before diving into his explanation, “The Mirishials currently have two Pal Chimerae units watching over their capital, backed by the Zeroth Fleet. To successfully capture Hytal Base, we prevent the Mirishials from sending reinforcements. I plan to split the First Conquest Fleet into two groups: one will attempt to lure away the Zeroth Fleet; the other will focus on assaulting Hytal Base itself. Our goal is to keep the Zeroth Fleet occupied while we destroy the Sixth Fleet and capture Hytal Base. Once Hytal Base falls, we use the captured base as a buffer to contain Mirishial forces to their continent."

Luxtal and the other aides nodded, grasping the idea.

"How will we split our forces?" Luxtal asked.

"We'll deploy the First and Second Battle Groups against the Sixth Fleet. Carrier wings from both units will eliminate coastal artillery and bomb enemy airfields while we focus on annihilating the Sixth Fleet. Meanwhile, Commander Herund will lead the Third and Fourth Battle Groups toward the Mirishial capital, Runepolis. He will be outnumbered and outgunned, so we must take Hytal Base quickly, before his units incur too many losses. We can then back his retreat and return to Hytal Base, where we can then begin constructing launch platforms for ballistic missiles. Then, we can begin harassing shipping lanes near the capital. This way, the Zeroth Fleet and their Pal Chimerae will be too distracted to retake Hytal Base from us. It should buy us enough time to construct a missile network around Hytal Base," Caesar finished.

“What about the Fifth Conquest Fleet? Will they participate in this operation?” Luxtal inquired.

"No need for them at the moment, Captain. Their task is to secure the southern flank of our invasion force by keeping the enemy in the Cartalpas region."

“Very well, sir. Is there anything else you wish me to convey to my subordinates?” Luxtal asked.

“Operation Mirage will be carried out tomorrow at sunrise. Have your men ready and confident by then."

“Yes, sir!" Luxtal saluted and left the room.

——

October 26, 1640

GVS Grade Atlastar

Caesar sipped on some coffee as he gazed out the ship’s windows, watching his fleet cut through the waves proud and unopposed. Commander Herund’s fleet had already departed for their own mission a few hours ago, leaving Caesar with about half of the First Conquest Fleet. Even though his fleet’s strength was substantially diluted, he still maintained enough firepower to seize Hytal Base four times over. The enemy’s defenses consisted of 17 battleships, 12 carriers, 30 cruisers, 50 destroyers, 40 coastal artillery platforms, and no more than a hundred aircraft. Of these forces, only the enemy’s sole Orichalcum-class and six Mithril-class battleships represented significant threats. Everything else could be easily crushed by Gra Valkan technological and numerical superiority.

Caesar’s thoughts were suddenly interrupted by the calm, professional voice of the ship’s radar operator, “We’re within 50 miles of Hytal Base. The enemy fleet is moving into a defensive position; it seems they’ve finally found us.”

“Very well. Let’s not keep them waiting. Lieutenant Jurgen,” Caesar turned to a communications officer, “Have our carriers begin their sorties. Prioritize eliminating enemy aircraft before engaging coastal defenses and airfields. Have the rest of the fleet maintain distance; we will shell the enemy from outside the range of their shore artillery.”

Metal groaned and propellers droned as the fleet carried out his orders. Battleships bared their broadsides as planes blotted the skies above, ready to descend upon the enemy with the full might of the Gra Valkas Empire. The enemy readied themselves similarly, their carriers and airfields sending up all available planes in preparation for a fierce battle. A brief silence followed as the two swarms of aircraft closed in on each other until they finally met. The sound of multiple explosions filled the sky, accompanied by the roar of engines, the staccato of Antares gunfire, the pulsing thrums of Alpha-3 light-bullet batteries, and the cries of pilots and crewmen alike. A few advanced Alpha-4 units made their appearance on the battlefield, but were targeted and swarmed by Gra Valkan fighters, the sheer number of Antares ripping the enemy Alpha-4 fighters to shreds. The number of planes dwindled quickly on both sides as the skies rained steel and lead, but losses on the Gra Valkan side soon stabilized as more reinforcements from their carriers arrived.

Having lost most of their Alpha-4 fighters, the Mirishials now had to face a technologically and numerically superior force of Antares fighters. Their numbers began to steadily decrease as the Gra Valkans mercilessly destroyed their aircraft, forcing the Mirishials to withdraw. Within minutes, dozens of Mirishial planes scattered the ocean below, lifeless frames entombing dead pilots as they sank to a watery grave. The few survivors were chased by Gra Valkan aircraft, who braved a dazzling lightshow of anti-aircraft fire from Mirishial destroyers as they proceeded to their objectives in the rear of the enemy formation and along the coast.

Meanwhile, the two fleets reached combat range and began trading blows with each other. The Gra Valkans' powerful guns fired in unison, raining shells on the Mirishial fleet, who responded in kind with a diverse array of brightly-colored lances and a handful of missiles. An incalculable number of bullets and flak filled the air above the Gra Valkan fleet’s battleships and carriers as they desperately attempted to intercept the incoming Comet-1 missiles.

Men in his fleet began to panic, having learned to associate anti-ship missiles with an unavoidable, fiery death. Yet, Caesar stood on the bridge of the Grade Atlastar, unwavering as he analyzed the progressing battle with defiant eyes. From the radar, it was clear that one of the missiles was headed toward his very flagship, but he held faith in the ability of his men, who had learned to preemptively shield the capital ships and lead their shots based on the missiles’ arcs. The missile drew near, its figure growing larger alongside the fear that grew in the hearts of everyone aboard the Grade Atlastar.

Bullet tracers formed pyramids of light over the fleet’s capital ships as anti-aircraft fire from nearby vessels created a shield of lead. Numerous blue flashes erupted around the Grade Atlastar, their luminosity outstripping the glare of the bright midday sun above. Some of these flashes erupted just above their intended targets, leaving them with some structural damage to their masts and towers, or blowing away planes sitting idly on the top decks of the carriers. For a few lucky vessels, their crews were spared the brunt of the assault, having to deal only with the shockwave and heat of the blast.

The other ships weren’t so lucky. They were engulfed by searing blue flames that ignited internal ammunition stores, snapping even the battleships in half and sending the charred remains to the bottom of the ocean. Surviving such an attack would’ve been impossible, but as long as they were victorious today, the memories of the fallen would live on.

An even louder and brighter blast ravaged Caesar’s senses as a missile detonated above his flagship, the shockwave creating massive ripples around the ship. He maintained his demeanor with excellent form, not even reacting to the missile in the slightest, save for issuing new orders. “Jurgen, have the bomber wings from the Constella and the Drachen target the enemy Orichalcum-class. They may continue with their primary objective once they’ve destroyed their new target.”

“Sir!” Jurgen nodded, hurriedly carrying out Caesar’s command.

Caesar turned to Luxtal, “Focus fire on enemy Mithril class ships while the rest of our fleet handles their destroyers and cruisers. The enemy Orichalcum is too deep inside their lines, so we must rely on our bombers to strike it. Reduce the number of enemy anti-air as much as possible.”

“Understood, sir!” Luxtal said before proceeding to give orders to his subordinates.

The hectic battle raged on, with the older Mirishial ship classes falling easily to Gra Valkan battleships and cruisers. Even the Gold-class battleship could barely keep up with Gra Valkan heavy cruisers, thus expediting the collapse of the Sixth Fleet’s formation. The few Mithril-class battleships that the Mirishial fleet had managed to go toe-to-toe against Caesar’s own battleships, but failed to meet up to the standards of the Grade Atlastar. Although Caesar’s flagship suffered some external damage, a few disabled anti-aircraft guns and dents in the hull couldn’t compare to the catastrophic gaping holes and destroyed main guns that the Mithril-class ships suffered.

Occasionally, a Gra Valkan battleship would report the loss of power or armaments due to damage incurred from fighting the Mithril or Orichalcum classes. Some who strayed too close to enemy lines found themselves ravaged by a spectacular array of searing magic lances, with their guns welded to the point of uselessness or — in a handful of cases — with their ammunition detonated. Devastation did not spare the Gra Valkans, despite their numerical, tactical, and technological advantages.

Yet, with Caesar’s brilliance, they managed to minimize losses, losing only a few cruisers and battleships to the Mirishial fleet. On account of the ferocious pummeling that Caesar’s fleet gave to the Mirishial Sixth Fleet, the Gra Valkan aircraft managed to slink past enemy lines relatively unscathed. With their target in sight, scores of dive bombers descended upon the enemy Orichalcum-class battleship, braving accurate anti-air fire from the ship itself and from nearby destroyers.

The falling planes produced ominous sounds due to the Doppler effect, whistling and wailing as their pilots pushed their steeds as much as they could. They lined up their sights, accounting for the velocities of their planes and the movement of their target. 400 meters, 300 meters, 200 meters. Their altimeters counted down, the menacing golden frame of the Orichalcum-class battleship growing ever-larger until finally, the dive bombers unleashed their payloads.

Bombs and debris from crashing planes pelted the Orichalcum-class ship and the waters around it, sending columns of water bursting into the air where the ocean was hit and sending metal and men into the air where the ship was hit. Explosions ravaged the entirety of the ship’s deck area, killing the anti-air crews stationed above and wrecking the finely crafted main guns. The bridge was not spared, with the men inside succumbing to a fiery death as a falling plane crashed into it, payload detonating with its final throes.

As the dust settled, all Caesar could see was the capsizing remains of the feared Orichalcum-class, surrounded by its sinking Mithril-class cousins. In the distance, plumes of black smoke rose into the air, signaling a successful raid on Hytal Base’s coastal defenses and airfields. He surveyed the battlefield once more, this time with a light smile on his face. Hytal Base was his. Victory was his.