Dawn’s pale fingers were just beginning to pry open the eyelids of the slumbering woods when a blur of frantic blue-armored hooves tore through the undergrowth, shattering apart dews that clung to blades of grass like diamonds. The wind whipped past the running creature, carrying the scent of damp earth and something else, primal and cold. The forest floor became a blur of gnarled roots and fallen leaves, each seemingly a potential snare. Its instincts guided every leap and pivot, its hooves barely touching the ground as it navigated the treacherous terrain.

And then, a violent impact and sparks, followed by an excruciating pain.

The blue blur swerved and jolted as a yellow glowing projectile slammed into its left shoulder armor from behind. It let out a screech that echoed through the trees as it was thrown off balance and sent tumbling into a thicket of ferns. And as if there was no mercy, the air crackled with the sound of more energy blasts, this time multiple, zipping from different directions. One clipped its curved horns, sending a shower of sparks flying, while another grazed its flank, leaving a sizzling brand mark.

The creature scrambled to its feet, but the precise barrage continued. Jagged lines of energy crisscrossed the still-dark forest floor, carving smoking trenches around the creature each time they hit right on the target. It darted and weaved, a desperate dance between the deadly light show, but the bullets were relentless, eventually herding it towards a towering oak. Facing a dead end, the abnormal lifeform roared with a sound of defiance and despair and turned behind it.

As the creature braced for its final stand, the air shimmered above, revealing the hunter. It was a warrior donning a white fox head-shaped helmet clad in a black base suit with gray straps and minimal armor on its right chest and shoulder, as well as a striking white-colored leg and thigh armor. But the most striking feature was the warrior’s method of movement: two large blades spun rapidly above the warrior’s head, gripped firmly by one hand even as it continuously made noises akin to pounding air. In the warrior’s right hand, a large white handgun was aimed ominously at the blue-armored beast.

Staring down at the monster through his yellow-colored visor, Geats Armed Propeller Magnum finally caught up with the fleeing monster after overpowering it in a brief struggle that forced the gazelle-like monster to run downhill.

REVOLVE ON!

Geats somersaulted in midair and activated his Desire Driver’s mechanism to swap his upper and lower armors. Upon landing on the damp ground, the white segments of his lower armor seamlessly shifted to cover his upper body. Meanwhile, the straps wrapped around his left thigh and knee, creating a form called Geats Magnum Armed Propeller.

“There is nowhere to run,” Geats muttered icily as he eyed his weakened enemy. “Your rampage ends here.”

As if to punctuate his statement, the barrel of the Magnum Shooter 40X in his hand extended and the weapon morphed into the Rifle Mode, then he proceeded to remove his Magnum Buckle and inserted it into the weapon’s slot to initiate a finisher.

MAGNUM! TACTICAL BLAST!

With economical movement, Geats swiftly aimed the gun at the monster and fired a massive energy bullet from the barrel, hitting the monster directly in the head before engulfing it in a blinding explosion of raw energy. And just like every time he destroyed a Minus Energy monster, faintly glowing golden particles burst forth and expanded to envelop the area nearby, shimmering in the dim light of the awakening forest and dissipating into the morning air like ethereal spirits finally finding peace.

With the threat neutralized, Geats took a step back and removed his belt, the suit dissolved to reveal Ace Roguerider in casual clothing. As the cool morning breeze caressed his face, the young man exhaled deeply to let the tension of the battle slowly seep out of him. His features softened, revealing a hint of weariness and a sense of reluctance despite having executed a job well done.

Ace’s gaze then drifted from the dissipating golden particles and an unconscious small critter in place of the monster to the horizon beyond the dense foliage. Through the gaps among the trees, he could discern the outline of a port city nestled between the hilly region he’s currently in and other hills to the east, while he could also see the silhouettes of large, yet sleek watercraft cutting through the morning mist in a movement to leave one of the harbors and head to the open sea.

Taking a moment to let out a tired exhale, Ace then glanced over his shoulder to a spot where he could feel Legiel’s presence lurking among the woods—watching the errand unfold and laughing—before beginning his descent down the rugged terrain to find his autobike, having decided to return to where he and some of his family members were staying in the nearby city.

Two months have already passed since the birth of Frieda, Samuel, Arran, and Fiona Roguerider—the second set of quadruplets. Legiel had started a new habit of going to random dreary places and created a monster out of the Minus Energy that was concentrated in those spots, then threw them to Ace’s way for him to kill in exchange for converting those masses of negativity into Hope, thereby making the areas affected somewhat better than their previous state in the process. However, a disturbed Ace harbored no belief whatsoever in Legiel’s intentions to designate him as a covert guardian of humanity from its own negativity, nor did he trust Legiel’s assurance that he wouldn’t harm innocent people unnecessarily as long as Ace complied with this little game. Nevertheless, with absolutely no power to defy the Four Horsemen, Ace’s skirmishes against these Minus Energy entities seemed more like a coping mechanism to release his frustrations than acts driven by genuine altruism, all the while he struggled to find answers.

However, while it might make him a monster, the August Star of Heaven Amatsu-Mikaboshi is not Pestilence’s monster.

All of this, he did because it was necessary, not because it was written, and he was keeping Legiel’s menace at bay by reluctantly finishing his so-called ‘quests.’

At least, that’s what he would have liked to think.

But when will this nonsense end…?

April 16, 1616 Central Calendar, 06:02

Also known as the capital city of Carthinia Province, the Holy Milishial Empire’s southernmost major city of Cartalpas prospered as a pivotal trading center that bridged the eastern and western realms of the known world, owing to its advantageous harbor created by its geographical features. Positioned at the tail end of an inlet with an opening that was only 14 kilometers wide, Cartalpas was flanked by two hilly peninsular land formations extending 60 kilometers southward from the mainland, making the area enjoy calm waters even during turbulent weather. Furthermore, beyond its role as a vibrant trading hub and the host of the biennial Eleven Countries Leadership Conference, the area was home to Kuat Drive Yards, one of the prominent shipbuilding powerhouses within the Holy Empire, and a naval base housing the most formidable fleet in the known world.

A team from the MOASEC arrived at this city late at night, and normally they would use the next few days to rest and prepare for their task. However, one of the members, Ace, decided to go out the very next morning to see the sunrise and unload his Trychaser from the flying boat before heading off for the hills. Recognizing his real intention, Meteos went along by declining the half-hearted offer and opting instead for a leisurely early morning stroll along the waterfront, inviting Walman and Robin in the process.

When the trio went out of the lodging and reached the still-misty destination, they were treated to the sight of a certain elite military unit moving across the water. Sixteen silhouettes of the Holy Empire’s most advanced fighting ships were making a stately departure from a nearby naval base, giving the trio a scene to admire against the placid waters sheltered from harsh weather by the surrounding geography. In fact, the timing to witness such a spectacle was half the reason they were there in the morning. While the others within their team were still feeling like sleeping after arriving at midnight, the trio wanted to see the warships sailing out.

The Third Timeline’s rendition of the Holy Milishial Imperial Navy’s famous Zeroth Magic Fleet still comprised 16 magic warships, including three battleships, five cruisers, and eight smaller escort ships. Touted as the epitome of naval strength in the known world, this fleet also served as a testing unit for the nation’s most advanced weaponry and technologies. The last decade had seen the emergence of superheavy shells developed in response to Mu’s enlarged capital ships, proximity fuse-equipped heavy anti-air shells capable of unleashing wide area-reaching mana bursts to one-sidedly sweep wyverns and flying machines out of the sky, the unseen lances diving under the sea, and some other card that the country still hasn’t revealed yet. This fleet will consistently be the first beneficiary of such advancements.

With his eyes fixed on the receding silhouette of the ships, Walman was enjoying seeing them in person for the first time before breaking the silence with a comment directed at the departing fleet. “Now that the Zeroth Magic Fleet is setting out to train, the time for the world conference is near, right?”

“Yeah.”

Meteos and Robin affirmed with nods when their brunette friend turned to look at their faces.

Homeported at a nearby naval base, the Zeroth Magic Fleet would always depart toward the Magdola Archipelago to the west whenever this time of the year came. During even-numbered years, when the worldwide event known as the Eleven Countries Leadership Conference was in session, the fleet was also absent, basically setting an expectation that they’d never show up at the city until the conference ended. Therefore, the Zeroth Magic Fleet will not be seen again by anyone nearby until two weeks later.

“What do you think will happen at the conference this year?” Meteos finally spoke.

With this timeline’s point of divergence occurring in 1596, the most recent edition which could be considered ‘interesting’ six years prior would be untouched by the alteration. The Holy Empire still contested Sol Islands from the Kingdom of Mu, which led to a naval standoff before Mu conceded before the situation escalated into an inter-civilization war. However, with the Roguerider Foundation’s existence and its activities, the Holy Empire’s foreign policy in this timeline seemed to be more active in pursuing conciliatory policies at the same time as their intelligence warfare capabilities in this era jumped drastically compared to Meteos’ previous timelines.

Despite all that so-called ‘noblesse oblige’ foreign policy and various regional alliances established between the Holy Empire and foreign countries, however, signs of a possible intergovernmental organization between nations of the world seemed to be still out of reach. Nevertheless, conferences occurring in such an era of peace tend to be rather boring.

Robin shrugged nonchalantly. “Other than the export proposal? Maybe same old, same old boring stuff,” she replied with a lazy grin. Her answer was as the silver-haired boy predicted.

“Maybe there are a few newer ships from the other countries flexing their might, but that’s it, I guess? Unless our neighbor up north makes some sudden crazy announcements that no one sees coming,” Meteos chuckled, referring to the Dragonoid nation-state of Emor Kingdom and its ability to perform divination to see the future every year.

Realizing the hidden meaning behind her apprentice’s words, Robin also let out an amused chuckle. At the same time, she wondered if the extent of Meteos’ future visions is able to render Emor’s spatial divination which requires an obscene quantity of mana to pull off only annually obsolete.

Walman, being the boy who was deliberately left out of the ‘future memory’ secret by Meteos, was clueless and instead chimed in enthusiastically after he seemed to remember something. “Let’s leave the boring stuff to the grown-ups. We’ve got our kind of stuff to do, y’know?”

“Haha! Absolutely!” Robin readily agreed with her apprentice’s remark.

Once again, their excursion outside Runepolis was both a leisure and business trip at the same time, showcasing the MOASEC’s leadership’s boundless ingenuity in ensuring their rising stars remained productive while also enjoying the freedom of childhood. Although in this timeline, it wasn’t Arsene Lippin who was being guided by his right hand-man’s scheme since he never took the seat, but rather Bandero Capone, a minor nobleman not much older, equally easy to the eyes, but a bit abrasive. At first.

This time, the trio and the rest of the team weren’t just tourists enjoying the upcoming parade of warships from the known world, but they also carried with them a card that the Holy Empire’s government can and will use throughout the conference’s duration. Thus, the team would be called upon by the government representatives to assist them in unveiling that card later on.

“But to think that something I made so frivolously would have a chance to shine,” Meteos shook his head at the content of their assignment.

“Well, you know there’s this guy who said that ‘one man’s trash is another man’s treasure—no wait, I don’t think that’s the right proverb. Uh…” Walman looked flustered, realizing that it might come out as an insult. But Meteos waved it off, saying that he got the gist of what he was trying to say and told him to stop worrying about it.

It all started with Meteos Roguerider—or rather, his Third Timeline version before he regained control of himself. Since in this timeline the invention of the Holy Empire’s first magic turbojet in 1610 was attributed to his oldest brother Adonis, the youngest Meteos at that time had an idea to fiddle with the lightning-type motor engine concept and attached wooden propellers to it, imitating the defining characteristics of Muish aircraft complete with the design of a biplane as a result. The first Alpha-2 prototype first flew one year later, and naturally little Meteos’ ‘lightning motor propeller-driven magic biplane’ that he designed for fun and will only able to match a wyvern at best wouldn’t hold a candle against the mighty subsonic jet’s performance.

Now, what happened to that design? Is it discarded, having been overshadowed by the older siblings’ more spectacular creations?

Nay!

Meteos’ father Roderick was concerned that his youngest son would be beating himself for not being as brilliant as his older siblings, so as someone swimming in his conglomerate’s wealth, he talked about it to his colleagues and wanted to build a functioning flying machine-like Heavenly Vessel based on Meteos’ design to see how it will fly. But first, they need to build an actual engine first. Therefore, the Roguerider Foundation approached the renowned automobile manufacturer Wellston-Martini with the blueprint and money, resulting in the one-off 730-hp producing WM Aero large lightning-type motor. The propeller-driven magic biplane with light iron bamboo alloy construction, named the “Dreaming Child,” first flew two months after the Alpha-2 in late 1611 in San Redentore District.

Surprisingly, the Dreaming Child exceeded expectations by being faster than a wyvern and other impressive performance metrics surpassing even Mu’s primary air superiority fighter, the S.V. Challenger. However, the world at that time was still reeling from the shock generated by the Alpha-2’s roar of awakening, which had sent waves even through the Holy Empire itself. Consequently, this slow and strange private project was not taken seriously by the upper echelons of the government. Furthermore, with most foreign spies in the country already decimated by the Order of the Ancients’ efforts, news about it never advanced beyond rumors for the foreigners. The Dreaming Child never took flight again, now resting preserved within a storehouse owned by the Foundation somewhere in the San Redentore District since no one wanted anything to do with it and young Meteos had moved on. Only because of Roderick’s sentimentality that the plane was kept intact.

Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

After five years, its topic was brought up again not long after Princess Lugiel became a part of Meteos’ information network, spoken at a time when the Rogueriders were pushing for their world’s defensive line plan. When Meteos, now as ‘himself,’ told the tale of his father’s ridiculous but heartwarming effort in giving encouragement to his children, the princess listened intently and declared that this surprisingly has potential not just as a quaint hobby project or a fatherly love, but as a game-changer on the international stage. So, after checking about various things such as patents and whatnot, Lugiel brought this matter to the Albion Palace after the Rogueriders gave their consent.

“Other countries barring us and Mu still rely on wyverns for aerial combat and reconnaissance, so I reckon they will appreciate an air force of machines faster, more maneuverable, and without the inconveniences of a living creature,” Lugiel excitedly explained to her ancestor, Emperor Milishial VIII, during an audience. “I beg you to consider that our country’s technology is already far above any other nation in the world. Not only providing them assistance to improve their national power, which even Mu couldn’t readily offer, will garner prestige for the Holy Empire and loyalty from them, but this could also be a profitable export product coveted by many.”

Indeed, even the weakest air superiority Heavenly Vessel can fly twice the speed of this biplane, but its potential as a bargaining chip on the world stage was undeniable.

It also happened to be an opportunity to not only solidify the Holy Empire’s dominance but also forge an even stronger loyalty from its neighbors and smoothen future deals. After a period of deliberation, the approval for such export in the future was granted, but Milishial VIII added to have them present it as a foundation for a proposed joint development by any country interested during the preparation and evaluation period, even Mu if that country is willing to bend its own principles. Nevertheless, the Holy Empire opted not to loudly announce its intentions during the upcoming world conference, instead choosing to send representatives for one-on-one meetings with select countries first.

Other than Torkia and Agartha, fellow First Civilization Area countries, Mu and the Magicaraich Community were proposed as the first partners in this venture, to no one’s surprise. The former was obvious, being the master of the craft and the Holy Empire was being serious in its agenda of repairing the cracked bridges between them by extending the invitation. For the latter, as the Holy Empire’s closest powerful ally with sufficient magic technology level and stability, they seemed to be a natural choice. In an inversion to Magicaraich’s earlier diplomatic overtures to secure the order of new warships for their navy, the Holy Empire will now approach Magicaraich with an offer to enhance its aviation technology. Only after this endeavor showed fruit that the Holy Empire consider expanding the list.

Nevertheless, that’s how Roderick’s love for his son found itself about to fly beyond the Middle Lands’ border with the Emperor’s blessing and Lugiel’s help.

April 20, 1616 Central Calendar, 10:00

San Redentore District, Runepolis

Baridero, the Foundation-affiliated elven aviator, came to one of the storehouses owned by the conglomerate to check the work being done there and found that the refurbishment work on the object in question was finished at last. As it was being brought out of its enclosed storage into the clearing, he asked one of the technicians.

“How is it?”

The addressed one paused and turned, wiping his stained hands on a towel. “We ran her motor through her paces and found that it’s still running smoothly after all these years. The airframe does not need much work too, so theoretically she should still handle like a dream.”

“I see, but even so, the technology is getting outdated. Are you planning to at least upgrade the circuits soon?”

“Well, we can do that,” the technician shrugged. “But… it’s not like the countries that were offered by the government’s sales pitch can produce a magic fuel good enough for the incredibly high-tech circuits. Unless, they’re willing to import the fuel from us too.”

“Savvy, aren’t you?” Baridero let out a light snort and proceeded to conduct an inspection himself, with the technician earlier walking in tow.

Now sitting on the flat and well-groomed grassy lawn is the Dreaming Child, a prototype aircraft built five years ago based on Meteos Roguerider’s design when he was still a little brat. This aircraft, which resembled a Muish flying machine for some reason, is a single-seat biplane with two main wings stacked one above the other, constructed from a lightweight iron bamboo alloy for its frame and outer covering with a streamlined form overall. Like its Muish counterpart, it features an exposed pilot seat with only a windshield covering at the front, a fixed tail-dragger undercarriage shielded by spats, and a pointed nose housing a two-bladed propeller attached to a large lightning-type motor engine.

“So, how soon we could conduct a test flight?”

“Haha! I knew it. Well, we’re checking with the Wellston-Martini and the government, but with the final inspection complete and everything looking good, a test flight could be done within this week. As long as the weather cooperates, of course.”

Seeing Baridero nod wordlessly, the technician couldn’t resist a playful jab. “So, Mister Baridero, are you itching to take her for a spin again? It’s been five years since you last flew it.”

“It’s rather obvious, isn’t it?” the elf dryly remarked with a raised eyebrow.

Even though his looks appeared no older than the equivalent of a human in his early 30s, the technician reminded himself that the man alongside him was a centennial, having ridden the wyverns back when it was still the Holy Empire’s mainstay air power and even became the first man to fly a Heavenly Vessel. Even long since retired from the Imperial Navy, it was clear that flying is the former rear admiral’s passion. The propeller-driven Dreaming Child would be seen as a strange technology among the Holy Empire’s mainstream society, but as proven by their longtime observations of the Muish technology development across the ocean by the savvier ones, it is something that worked, and Baridero saw it as an exotic machine if anything.

A decade ago, the notion of exporting anything with the potential to be used as weapons would be unthinkable. However, while the Holy Empire still zealously guarded its jet technology, the decision-makers seemed to be willing to facilitate its citizens in pitching the sale of a fighter aircraft overseas, even if it’s a woefully underpowered ‘second-rate.’

The world is indeed changing.

April 22, 1616 Central Calendar, 13:00

Cartalpas

The city’s harbor district had in place a myriad of facilities meant to accommodate the ships coming from the differing civilization areas, although recently it was decided to standardize the level of sophistication of each port facility. As the fleets from the countries participating in the conference began to arrive one by one, port management authorities were made busy gathering information on who was arriving and coordinating to guide them to their designated sector.

As announced by the speakers that relayed the information acquired by the port authorities in order to entertain the crowd who are always gathering to witness the arrival, the first to grace the harbor entrance were the First Civilization Area fleets of the Torkia and Agartha Kingdoms, each gracing the harbor with eight sailing ships. Following them were the Third Civilization Area’s superpower Parpaldia Empire, showing up with eight ships-of-the-line. Furthermore, the 104-gun man o’ war leading the fleet was not painted in the familiar black and yellow, but rather a crimson-hulled ship with yellow trims and covered with black-colored metal plating on its sides, as well as a prow resembling a fanged mouth of a sea monster.

“Ooh… that one looks different.”

Among the gathered crowd who watched the procession, there was a young teenager who couldn’t help but voice his curiosity upon seeing the menacing impression that Parpaldia’s biggest ship invoked as she was guided to her moorings at the far side of the harbor.

The boy’s attention briefly switched to somewhere else when he heard a brunette boy in the crowd who stood next to him blurted out rather loudly. “What an aggressive-looking ship. Are the Parpaldians coming to pick a fight with everyone?”

His comment caused a silver-haired boy who stood beside him to laugh at him before chiming in. “Every Parpaldian main fleet’s flagship is always painted that way, though.”

“It looks like they’re trying to compensate for something.”

“Shush,” the silver-hair elbowed his companion. “At least Kaios and Elto aren’t here to hear you dissing their homeland.”

“Hehe.”

When the silver-hair fixed his gaze back to the Parpaldian flagship once more, the boy couldn’t help but do the same. “Now, did you see those black shiny surfaces? That’s a new one, definitely the anti-magic steel armor plating.”

“Do you think they got more up their sleeves than just fancy armor?” the brunette asked.

“How about we go near the Third Civilization Area’s zone later to confirm which ship is that?” the silver-hair offered. “From what we know, that class is equipped with an incendiary chemical sprayer device on the bow.”

“Come again?” the boy blurted.

As if the boy has always been there, the silver-hair continued nonchalantly.

The brunette added, “Wyvern’s fire, if you’re unfamiliar with it. Here since we don’t use wyverns anymore, we develop ‘manufactured fire’ (napalm) by studying the liquid that their flame sacs produced. So, basically since them Parpaldians can’t use land dragons on the sea, they turn their ships into dragons.”

“Until they can actually bring wyverns to the sea similar to aircraft carrier operations.”

“Yeah.”

“Also… the main fleet flagship equipped with armor will be either the Western Fleet’s Ontembaar or the Central Fleet’s Vooruitzien. If it’s the latter, then that ship should have the magical underwater pressure propulsion system installed. A very crude version of the Holy Empire’s system, but at least the ship can still move even if all of its masts are broken in combat.”

“Whoa.”

After a moment, the two finally realized his presence.

“Hey. Wait a minute, who are you?” the brunette exclaimed.

“Uh…” the boy awkwardly scratched his cheek now that they found out that he eavesdropped their conversation. “Hi… My name is Bront… Osborn.”

“Hello, Bront Osborn,” the silver-hair repeated and smiled at him. “Do you live here?”

“Ye-yeah?”

“I am Meteos Roguerider from Runepolis. This is Walman Falkenhausen, my classmate.”

“You’re not going to school?” the boy was incredulous. Except for Cartalpas, which had its school session end early for the conference day, the Eleven Countries Leadership Conference is not a national holiday in the Holy Empire.

“We are apprentices to a mage who brought us here for an assignment,” Meteos answered with an answer that was technically true.

“Ah, I see. Nice to meet you,” Bront grasped the hand offered by the silver-hair and proceeded to do the same with his brown-haired companion.

“You seem to be a curious one,” Meteos commented on his earlier outburst.

“Well… yes. I like ships.”

“Oh, I’m something of a ship enthusiast myself,” Meteos commented in amusement. “So, do you get to see the Zeroth departing earlier?”

Bront’s face crumpled into a disappointed pout. “No,” he mumbled, scuffing his foot against the cobblestone ground. “I was asleep. My grandpa said they left at dawn.”

“Indeed.”

As they conversed, more fleets arrived at the harbor. Leifor, the fifth superpower with a technological level slightly weaker than the Parpaldia Empire, arrived from the far west with ships-of-the-line sporting black and red paint scheme as their warships were known for. The sight of sailing warships arriving changed completely when the group of ships after the Riem Kingdom and the Nigrat Union’s fleets appeared.

“The delegation from the Magicaraich Community of the Second Civilization Area has arrived! Cruiser Squadron 1 of the Maritime Defense Department’s Defense Fleet 1, comprising 3 magic small ship-sized ‘protected cruisers’!”

“Look, those are the ‘Zero-Stackers,’” Meteos pointed out to the three gray vessels coming from the distance.

This year, Magicaraich also decided to send their most advanced ships to the international venue. Naturally, the 1. Kreuzergeschwader’s three Barthelma-class protected cruisers would be the ones they deployed even if it meant reducing the number of ships within the fleet. Even though their sizes are only comparable to the Holy Empire’s small ships at best, the sight of it gave Bront and the rest of the crowd a sense of ‘difference’ from the image of a ‘foreigner navy’ they knew.

“Zero-Stackers? I’ve heard something like that before. What’s that supposed to mean, exactly?” Bront asked.

“That’s what the people of Mu call steel ships using magic engines,” Meteos explained, pointing towards the approaching Magicaraich ships again. “See how they don’t have any smokestacks like the Muish ships? The reason they’re nicknamed that way is simply that.”

“Huh.”

The next country arriving would be another part of that ‘foreigner navy’ image.

“The delegation from the Kingdom of Mu of the Second Civilization Area has arrived! International Conference Delegation Task Force of the Muish Royal Navy’s High Seas Fleet, comprising 5 battleships, 4 armored cruisers, 8 light cruisers, and 2 aircraft carriers, for a total of 17 ships!”

And so, the largest and most powerful of the delegation fleet had arrived. While their ashen iron hulls—more fitting to be called fortresses—calmly sliced the water as they were guided to their moorings, their powerplants continued to emit plumes of black smoke from their cylindrical chimneys that stood like a row of tombstones. For the crowd, this was the crowning spectacle of the entire procession as there is no other country capable of possessing such gigantic ships other than the host country itself.

“Five battleships? Oh, the announcer made a mistake there. The large ships with three smokestacks are not battleships, those are very large cruisers.”

“Didn’t that one already appear in the previous conference?” Bront commented, searching his memory two years ago. “I think.”

Arriving with a mix of new and old capital ships, the longest ships featuring big gun turrets and distinctive three smokestacks (the longest overall would be the carriers) are ironically very large cruisers belonging to the Royal Navy’s Scouting Groups. The port authorities made a similar mistake in the previous conference, thinking it to be a battleship.

“I think that’s it, right?” Bront’s eyes began to glaze over as the last of the Muish ships were guided to their designated berths. He shifted from foot to foot and asked to no one in particular. “All the fleets are here.”

“Heading home so soon? You’re about to miss one more arrival.”

Making a head count inside his head and realizing that he did make a mistake, Bront joined Meteos and Walman once again and craned his neck to see where the last arrival might be hiding. The harbor was already teeming with activity, smaller vessels buzzing around the docked giants, and he couldn’t help but feel a twinge of disappointment. Surely, the last country wouldn’t have anything grander than what they had already witnessed.

His prediction was confirmed when a tiny speck appeared on the horizon, and as it slowly grew larger to reveal itself to be a lone sailing ship from a southern barbarian country of the Annonrial Empire, Bront let out a groan for the disappointingly anticlimactic closing of the procession. The ship glided silently into the harbor, dwarfed by the colossal Muish warships and even the Parpaldian flagship. A few curious onlookers craned their necks, but most quickly lost interest, their attention already shifting to the bustling activity around the other fleets.

“The Annonrials, it looks like they will never change, huh? ………That’s so lame.”

With a shrug, Bront decided he couldn’t stand the disappointing ending. Bidding farewell to Meteos and Walman, he hoped to meet with them again if they’re sticking around for the duration of the conference.

Before leaving to meet the rest of the team, Meteos gave one last look to the dinky, unassuming sailship that is the Winged People’s vehicle.

In an ideal vision for the world, he would rather the Annonrial Empire change for the better and move on. However, as long as Zaratosthra of the Messiah continues to hold the helm of the country, that will never happen.

He had closed his heart to this world.

Ironically, Zaratosthra’s love will be the one that will bring suffering to this world.

Currently Publicly Available Information

ELEVEN COUNTRIES LEADERSHIP CONFERENCE (1616)

Permanent Seat Participants

- Holy Milishial Empire (Central World)

- Emor Kingdom (Central World)

- Kingdom of Mu (Second Civilization Area)

- Leifor Empire (Second Civilization Area)

- Parpaldia Empire (Third Civilization Area)

Rotating Seat Participants

- Torkia Kingdom (Central World)

- Agartha Kingdom (Central World)

- Magicaraich Community (Second Civilization Area)

- Nigrat Union (Second Civilization Area)

- Riem Kingdom (Third Civilization Area)

- Annonrial Empire (Southern World)