Chapter 182

A Terrifying Force
The site of an old supply depot, far from Arland's royal capital Albrud, is currently undergoing expansion around the clock.

What stands out the most is the completion of two 3,000-meter-class runways. Additionally, a short distance away lies a base for the experimental units.

This base is dedicated to operating equipment utilizing Alicetia’s technology. Whether or not the Arland military will modernize depends on the data gathered here.

The reason it hinges on data is due to consideration for the upper ranks of the military, who remain skeptical of new technologies such as guns and tanks. However, once those top brass conduct their inspections, they typically end up supporting the transition to new equipment. That’s how impressive the new arsenal is.

Currently, both land and air experimental units are stationed here. The land unit trains tank operators, artillerymen, and infantry. The air unit trains pilots and airship crew. Additionally, they train mechanics who can serve both land and air units.

"Now then, let’s begin the scheduled reporting session."

Arland’s experimental unit has begun adopting a rank system to establish a unified chain of command. The moderator was a man from the staff section.

Around a round table sat about ten officers, poring over documents. The two at the top were Pash, Alicetia’s adjutant, and a man named Guien, who was sent by Albert. While Guien lacked martial prowess, he possessed excellent organizational skills and a flexible mindset, making him the perfect choice to lead a unit that defies conventional norms.

"This month, five four-engine bombers and ten single-engine fighters were delivered.

Additionally, supplementary shipments of rifles and heavy artillery are proceeding as scheduled."

"Just where are they being produced…? At this pace, I’m starting to worry whether Her Highness is getting any rest."

Guien murmured, and those around him nodded in agreement.

"Moreover, next week marks the commissioning of the first armed airship. A rapid assault transport ship will also go into service at the same time."

"Seriously, what kind of production capability is this!?"

"And what's with the name of this ship!?"

The documents in their hands also mentioned the armed airship.

It read: Armed Airship First Ship, “Victory Coote”.

"Shouldn’t a ship like this be named after His Majesty?"

One of the officers held his head in his hands. But no one dared object. In all their minds, they could see Alicetia’s smug face giving a thumbs-up.

"The names of the current royal family members are already reserved for magic battleships… According to Her Highness, 'Armed airships are like hunting dogs, so it’s fine.'

Apparently, the finance minister has been in tears over the cost of building the magic battleships… but Her Highness always manages to secure funding from somewhere."

No one in the financial ministry can oppose Alicetia.

What they don’t know is that the first magic battleship Alicetia is pouring her heart into is priced so astronomically high that it's beyond a joke, and it’s constructed using specifications that only she can handle. As a result, from the second ship onward, they will be downgraded versions equipped with ordinary cannons. Crashing the economy with construction costs would be no laughing matter.

The armed airship is a gunboat equipped with four 127mm 50-caliber single rapid-fire guns. However, it was too far ahead of its time, equipped with high-performance radar.

The radar installed was a modified version of the SPY-1 radar, extensively miniaturized and enhanced by Iris during her lifetime. It also carried a newly developed mana-detection radar.

Why does it have two radars? Because conflict with Earth is also being considered. In this world, people from other worlds sometimes arrive. There’s even the possibility that a military force from Earth might transfer over with their equipment. With that in mind, development of satellites and launch rockets is also underway. Soon, the Aegis system will be operable. Farewell, fantasy. The word "restraint" does not exist in Alicetia’s dictionary.

What’s even more terrifying is that a single armed airship can defend a medium-sized city on its own. It’s loaded with magic tools that generate barriers and shields, allowing it to be deployed during stampedes and serve as a fortress for cities with limited defense capabilities until reinforcements arrive. Naturally, it can also intercept anti-ship missiles.

Its standalone capabilities were more than satisfactory.

Even the officers present couldn’t help but smile. The military, long troubled by funding issues, now had plenty of breathing room. Especially this base, which had been allocated a generous budget. That’s how much is expected from this organization. Naturally, the people here could consider their promotions guaranteed.

"Next, about the rapid assault transport ship—"

"This one’s not bad either."

The rapid assault transport ship has bow doors that open outward, allowing it to carry tanks and heavy artillery to the frontlines. Due to the nature of its mission, it has no weapons, but instead emphasizes speed and defense. Its barriers and shields are tougher than those on the armed airship. This one is under the jurisdiction of the army.

"Sorry, but could I have a few people assigned to me? We don’t have any experience operating airships."

Guien requested personnel support from Pash.

"That’s fine, but you owe me one."

"Will wine do?"

"Let’s settle on a 200-year-old elven vintage."

"I didn’t expect you to demand my treasured wine. Fine, deal."

HAHAHA—Everyone laughed. Peace reigned in Arland today as well.

Meanwhile, things on the ground were fairly strained.

Learning how to maintain firearms from scratch was already a challenge, but aircraft maintenance was proving to be an even more formidable task.

“I told you, that’s not it! That’ll make the nut come loose from vibration, dammit! Start learning from the beginning again!”

Grantz hurled a spanner at a fellow dwarf man.

Grantz was currently in charge of training maintenance crew, but their skills were still lacking. They frequently made mistakes, and at times even ruined aircrafts.

Of course, the maintenance crew were seriously trying to learn and were gradually improving. In a few years, they’d become competent mechanics.

Training pilots was also predictably difficult. Everything was new, and they were still in the trial-and-error phase, slowly eliminating inefficiencies.

Training methods were being updated repeatedly based on feedback from the pilots themselves. Since Alicetia was on the development side, managing operations wasn’t her jurisdiction. But one officer had begged her as a last resort, and as a result, she’d issued an order for snack breaks at 3 PM. Incidentally, this gave the soldiers a bit of breathing room and slightly improved their proficiency. Switching between work and rest was important.

“Phew... yum.”

It was characteristic of dwarves to shout constantly while working. Grantz wasn’t so soft that he’d tire from something like that.

Once his work was done, he drank liquor while gazing at the orderly rows of aircraft in the now-empty hangar. He hadn’t realized that lately, his drinking had significantly decreased (by dwarf standards).

“Girls like her don’t live long… eventually, even times like these will come to an end.”

Grantz had never accepted people of other races as apprentices. That was because other races died before he did.

Dwarves were a long-lived race, second only to elves. There were a few other long-lived races, but few were as dedicated to craftsmanship as dwarves.

Every dwarf wished to someday create the supreme item that only they could make. Grantz had never yet made anything that truly satisfied him. In his own eyes, that made him still inexperienced.

But meeting Alicetia had changed him. What he’d been seeking were unknown creations like those she produced—things whose brilliance anyone could recognize.

No matter how much one tinkered with existing designs, there was no excitement. That only brought honor within the foundations laid by predecessors.

But Alicetia built her own foundation. Magic furnaces, aerial combat, aircraft—Grantz knew of those. Airplanes were something otherworlders often spoke of. But who had actually made one? Could he have made one? Grantz understood how abnormal Alicetia was. If materials didn’t exist, she created them. If they couldn’t be processed, she built tools that could. She handled everything on her own. There was no place for him in that.

“That’s why I’ll learn from you too.”

Muttering that, he downed a barrel-full of liquor in one go. He felt that staying close to Alicetia might help him find something only he could create.

“Well, hopefully she doesn’t die of old age before that. I mean, I can’t get mad if she dies of old age… dammit, if only she were a dwarf…”

Grantz hated it when apprentices died before him. That’s why he never took apprentices from other races. But Alicetia was different. He taught her everything he knew. The "Factory" spell she used was born thanks to Grantz's instruction. In return, he stole techniques from her. That’s what craftsmen do—learn by watching others and then surpass them.

Grantz gently patted the wingless Mark X. It was in a pitiful state. It was a training aircraft, designed for pilots to get a feel for flying. In other words, it wasn’t built very sturdily. Sure, some parts were recycled from the Mark I, but it wasn’t military grade.

The man who had reduced the Mark X to such a miserable state was now sitting outside the hangar in a formal kneel. Grantz had made him do that.

“… So? Got any last words?”

“I sincerely apologize. It seems its durability was far lower than I expected.”

“You bastard… I explained it at the beginning, didn’t I? This thing is strictly for training. As long as you don’t do anything reckless, it’s perfectly fine. And you went and did a vertical dive?! Are you trying to die?

Or are you some foreign saboteur?!”

“I swear my loyalty to the kingdom! That accusation is—Gugh!”

Just as the man tried to stand, Grantz’s uppercut slammed into his jaw.

“Then stop doing reckless crap!”

“… I’m sorry.”

The man’s name was Rudolf. He had no surname. A former knight of common birth.

He was “former” because he’d lost his right leg.

It had happened when Alicetia was fighting monsters in Ostland and the Empire had made a move on Arland, only to be crushed instantly by Arland’s army led by Draconia. Rudolf had been part of that force, but misfortune had cost him his leg in battle.

If he had rushed to the medics immediately with the severed leg, it might have been reattached. But instead, he tied off the wound on the spot, fastened his scabbard to his leg like a makeshift prosthetic, and remained on the front lines.

In the end, the Imperial army was routed in less than half a day after Draconia crushed their commander with his warhammer. Rudolf searched for his leg afterward, but never found it.

As things stood, he was to be discharged from the military. Deeply patriotic, he lamented this greatly. Not because he had lost his leg in battle, but because he could no longer defend his country.

Then came a turning point—the founding of the Arland Air Force.

For some reason, he was convinced that not having a leg wouldn’t be a problem. He shouted his plea to his superiors and managed to transfer to the Air Force.

But when he saw the other gathered pilot candidates, he couldn’t help but chuckle. Their skill was laughable. As if remembering a past life, he threw himself into mastering flight techniques. Before long, he had become the field commander.

However, his piloting was often reckless. This time, he had attempted a steep dive-bombing run in a mere training aircraft, enraging Grantz. No matter how skilled he was, he couldn’t defy the mechanics.

Yet, he still wasn’t satisfied.

“I heard that the top performers are granted the right to make a direct appeal to the Princess.”

It was called a direct appeal, but in reality, it meant being allowed to send a letter requesting something of Alicetia. As long as it was within her capabilities and reasonable, she’d grant it as a reward. Typically, it was something like a slight raise in pay.

“Given the situation, yeah… but if you crash even one more plane, I’ll revoke that privilege under my authority.”

Under Grantz’s glare, Rudolf averted his gaze. After a moment, he coughed to cover it up.

“I’d like to request the development of an attack aircraft with outstanding survivability and high firepopower—yes, something equipped with an enlarged version of that gatling gun would be ideal. I want a craft that excels in maneuverability at low speeds and can stay airborne for long periods."

Rudolf was seeking an aircraft that, if built on Earth, would have prompted a major superpower’s congress to demand its retirement, only for the military to refuse and a political fight to break out. Moreover, ground attack aircraft did not yet exist in Aarlant. Each aircraft type required different pilot skills and capabilities, so such a model had not been developed.

"Hmm."

Grantz gave it some thought too. A close air support aircraft that would make the army cry tears of joy. It certainly seemed necessary.

Later, Rudolf was recognized as the top pilot. Together with Grantz, he formally requested the development of a new aircraft from Alicetia.

Alicetia—or rather, her clone—saw the request and got carried away. She developed a twin-engine aircraft equipped with a 30mm gatling gun. Dubbed a “specially developed attack aircraft,” five units were produced to start.

This marked the beginning of the devilish squadron, later known as the Messengers from Hell. Incidentally, Rudolf could have volunteered as a test subject for regenerative magic being developed to regrow his legs, but he reportedly rejected it outright, saying he’d rather have a new aircraft.

Rudolf was appointed captain of the Special Aircraft Operations Squadron and promoted to the rank of captain.

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