Chapter 108
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Translator: Ace
Chapter: 108
Chapter Title: Floor 11 - Lv. 765 Stormhowl Armored Brigade (4)
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Commander Arcala of the Imperial Capital Defense Force's 1st Fleet let out a sigh.
The Empire was rotten these days. Rotten to the core.
It wasn't because the ruler was incompetent. It was the Empire's subjects who had gone bad.
Thinking back, that made sense. Greenskins weren't naturally diligent by any stretch.
Long ago, their ancestors had been born in the wild with bodies tougher than any beast.
They'd never needed to work hard. Predators didn't have to.
That toughness had now become a liability.
As physical strength grew increasingly irrelevant, only ogres had adapted efficiently to the new environment.
Surprisingly, ogres were a highly intelligent race. They were just extremely lazy.
Maybe it came from having so much natural talent.
The days when wrapping a club in flames and swinging it was enough were long gone.
Ogres had started studying.
It wasn't particularly humiliating. Unlike orcs or trolls, ogres didn't look down on goblins, humans, or even fairies.
They just didn't think about it at all.
That's how ogres lived.
When dwarves invented new weapons that began reshaping the continental battlefields, ogres eagerly adopted them.
A few extraordinarily diligent genius ogres even researched them.
Their achievements spread far and wide, and now ogres dominated the Empire.
The only orc in charge was the Emperor himself—a purely symbolic role.
Fleet Commander Arcala was one such elite ogre.
He wasn't any smarter than his kin, but he was diligent.
For an ogre, genius boiled down to diligence. He was plenty genius.
That's why he issued the mobilization order.
The Empire had to be protected. No matter how it fell, it couldn't happen in his lifetime.
Mad fairies had launched a desperate assault on the imperial capital.
If the Emperor died, chaos would ensue. A disaster for all ogres.
The next Emperor was another problem. A change in leadership meant endless headaches.
Even genius ogres weren't immune to hassle. Arcala wanted to do nothing if possible.
But if he didn't want even more fatigue in the future, he had to move now.
The fleet arrayed itself. This colony planet wasn't far from the capital.
The entire planet had been fortified into a fortress.
Unless they pulled off something insane like this long-range warp, it was a mandatory waypoint.
Warps didn't happen in empty space.
Mana flow was magic power, and mana was the fundamental particle of matter.
Warping in the void of space?
Nothing less efficient.
Typically, fleets hopped from planet to star like stepping stones.
What the fairies had done was pure madness.
And that's why it worked.
Arcala was furious.
He loved these standoffs where everyone just growled at each other and nothing happened.
The Capital Defense Force especially did nothing in such situations.
Perfect.
Why had the Alliance pulled this stunt?
He couldn't fathom it.
His stocks in military industries danced before his eyes, plummeting with the war. Infuriating.
He should've bought into arms manufacturing.
His rage, swollen with various reasons, rippled through the fleet.
Massive ships, each customized to their owners' quirks, prepared for warp.
Space warped, sucking in the mismatched metal hulks.
Greenskins were a race distant from espionage. The Empire had no way to infiltrate spies into other nations.
They stuck out like sore thumbs.
The Empire's goblins always dreamed of defecting to the Federation, making them useless there too.
On the flip side, enemies couldn't plant spies in the Empire either.
No other race could mimic Greenskins.
Federation goblins sometimes infiltrated, but shaman priests of the War God filtered out Chaos worshippers easily.
Federation goblins couldn't step on the Goddess's portrait. They got caught instantly.
Thus, neither the Federation nor the Alliance knew the Empire's true inner workings. The Empire was equally blind.
The Federation gleaned scraps from defecting goblins now and then.
Surface-level at best. Since the Federation's birth, goblins hadn't risen to key Empire positions.
Mutual ignorance.
Fatal in war.
No telling who it'd doom.
Ambush risks everywhere.
The lack of total war stemmed from mutual fear of annihilation.
Gods meddled, skewing everything.
Goblins didn't care. Their justice came from the divine.
All were equal under the Goddess. Her mercy ignored race; it had to spread across the galaxy.
Even with a third of their dozens of ships lost to spacetime rifts, their faith held firm.
The Federation was the Goddess's creation. She had saved and guided them.
No need to study history; her decisions were always right.
Unyielding faith left no room for pitying comrades vanished into the void.
The abyss was Chaos's domain. They'd returned to the Goddess.
Enormous masses materialized above the imperial capital.
Alliance and Imperial fleets were locked in gunnery duels.
The vanguard commander thanked his luck for not vanishing into the rift. To prevent command gaps, capable deputies had scattered across non-flagships.
Half had gone to the Goddess's side.
Enviable, but the commander burned with zeal to open the holy war's barrage himself.
This day would usher the Federation into a new era.
The Goddess's grace across the galaxy.
Those fearing death lacked the right to Chaos's kin.
No orders needed; the entire fleet began charging main guns.
The commander realized his thinking was flawed.
Yes, he was just capable enough for this role as needed.
With the Goddess returned, all were truly equal. Was command even necessary?
One heart, one mind. Everyone knew their role in this holy war.
He was merely their representative.
Glory infinite, the commander spoke.
The fleet hung silent, awaiting his word.
"Commence firing!"
In the soundless void, blinding lights erupted.
Massive warp arrivals stirred tremendous ripples.
In eras of individual spellcasting, maybe. But this scale of mana use was crude by modern magecraft standards.
Impossible to execute flawlessly without aftereffects at this magnitude.
Residual mana created waves dwarfing even strong detection spells.
And they'd warped perilously close to a planet-scale body. Why?
A middling mage would suffer mental shock from the dense mana waves blanketing the planet.
It mimicked an EMP.
Engines on speeding armored cars stalled instantly.
The Girl looked up at the sky from her inertia-driven vehicle.
"Oh..."
I saw it too.
The barrage began. Lights painted the sky. Even in daylight, the beams cleaved it vividly.
Night would have been spectacular, but when those lights hit the Imperial fleet, no such thoughts remained amid the devastation.
The newly arrived Federation fleet outnumbered all foreign ships battling overhead combined.
Their unsparing salvo was a tidal wave of light.
That destructive surge vaporized an Imperial ship mid-evasive acrobatics against Alliance fire.
It pressed on relentlessly. Imperial vessels touching the light crumbled gradually.
Seeming to scatter as light itself.
Space battles lacked sound transmission. Like a silent film scene, surreal and detached.
The world crumbled.
No Imperial ship retained form through the dense barrage to plummet.
All disintegrated into glowing meteors raining planetside.
A meteor shower in broad daylight. Dazzling.
Mana engines roared back to life.
The mana shock passed. Greenskin tech was flawed and crude, but durable.
Inefficient, mana-hungry for drivers, but ogres overflowed with innate mana, so they drove these.
I checked my remaining mana. Frequent fights might strain, but reaching the capital was fine.
The armored car surged forward again.
Our pursuers from other brigades had stalled similarly.
The little one reported the encirclement reforming.
Well-driven vehicle, befitting a commander's ride.
We hit the encirclement soon. The Hunter's machine gun spat fire. Flashy plasma weapons underperformed despite looks.
Personal arms phased out for convenience, but heavy weapons favored mass drivers.
Magically enhanced, though.
Mana-supplied, no cooling woes. Incoming fire met the defensive barrier from the little mage and old man.
Rapid mana drain paled their faces.
I floored the accelerator harder.
Foolish, but Greenskin tech responded to spirit.
My rough emotions transmitted; the car accelerated fiercely.
Brigade vehicles whipped behind us.
The capital loomed distant.
Unlike elsewhere, not a crude fortress.
Ornate walls in gold and silver emphasizing authority.
Purely symbolic decorations, functionally useless.
Most residents inside, no doubt.
"Hot, hot!"
The Girl, who'd parried a stray bullet mid-stare with her sword, fussed. Impressive.
Enemies ahead too. The old man hurled Mjolnir wide.
The artifact boomeranged back, forming a lightning curtain.
Unlike electronics, few mana types penetrated like lightning. Shredded vehicle armor like paper, paralyzing functions.
Some forward encirclement troops bailed to shoot.
Their machine guns blazed.
The youngest calmly headshot with his rifle from the right arm perch.
Gunners dropped one by one.
But we couldn't escape unscathed.
Allowing machine gun fire rendered the mages' barrier moot.
Sparks hit the chassis. Metal crumpled with groans; the vehicle broke down.
Armored car, so minimal protection held.
But time-limited.
Rockets incoming.
I bat-turned part of my body into bats, sent outside. Intercepted rockets. Mana blasts crossed physical explosions midair.
Detonated bats to obscure vision. Dust clouds billowed.
"Would've been better to shake them entirely, but no choice. Dismount. You know the plan?"
Party nodded.
Suitable forest and hill ahead.
Mages had already breached the floor.
Hunter ceased fire, ducked inside.
Youngest placed shield as step on the hole.
Lighter members climbed first.
Enemy vehicles blocked ahead on the hill approach.
No gap to pass.
I leaped from the driver's seat briefly.
"Move the shield a sec!"
Exploded through the hole.
Vehicle tilted right, slewed sideways.
Back to driving. No-pass gap before, but left wheels lifted, landing atop enemy vehicle.
Shocked gunner raised arms defensively—crushed flat.
Old man lobbed a fireball from gathered fire mana into the enemy car. Screams followed.
Thud; armored car relanded. Breakthrough too swift; enemies panicked.
The little one tumbled into the Girl's arms amid the wild ride.
She instinctively hugged him.
Reached the hill. Maintained speed, so we flew airborne.
Youngest reset shield below.
Little one and little mage cast.
Invisibility—wide area.
All party turned transparent.
Weaker ones on the shield; confident leaped off.
Everyone evacuated while airborne.
Old man unleashed fire mana. Flames erupted ahead of empty armored car, ashing obstructing trees.
We held breath together.
Empty vehicle sped away.
Pursuers thundered past. Close calls; Girl yanked us clear with strength each time.
All vehicles gone. Non-vampire party coughed in dust.
Capital walls closer now.
"Seems we shook them. Hurry to the next stairs."
No lingering here.
Then, another massive ripple.
Mana waves. Warp aftershock.
Skyward: unrealistically stretched ships contracting, mass-emerging.
Twisted, bizarre designs. Uniformity absent; crude, willful hulls.
Greenskin ships.
Hunter said,
"Space war, huh. Never imagined. But tracing causes, aren't we the bad guys?"
"Yep. We started it."
The Girl giggled, relaying the Goddess.
"Goddess says it's fun after ages?"
Thinking it over, Chaos was the evil god.
The current Emperor of the Empire's 1,500-year dynasty finally learned of a certain Exile.
Courtesy of the War God's uproar.
Still a god, so the Emperor knelt reverently, clasping the shaman priest's hand.
Kill that bastard. Your ancestors' nemesis. The one who slew Great Emperor Altair.
A name from history books. Great Emperor Altair.
Had he not lost to some Exile, Greenskins would've conquered the universe before the space age.
Such was the legend of the great one.
Change the Empire's history. Slay that Exile and bring eternal glory to the Empire!
The Emperor raised his bowed head.
"And what of this world where I am Emperor?"
Timeline issue.
He didn't want to vanish. Become a resident of a non-existent future? No.
Unknown to most, but elites knew the world's truth.
The once-Greenskin overlord god declared,
I swear on my divinity. Send the Exile away via kingdom, extract you, and crown you Emperor of a new Empire.
The Emperor thought: Not bad. Sworn on godhood, it'd happen. Otherwise, divine seats would sanction.
Meeting Great Emperor Altair? Tempting too.
All orcs grew up on his tales.
Chewing tragedy. This universe should've been the Empire's.
"So be it. But first, consult the Dragon King."
Overlord of dragonkin. Dragons. And their king.
An ancient dragon whose fame echoed since Altair's era.
The War God replied unpleasantly.
Once, orders sufficed. No haggling like this.
Unless a key named like Altair.
But that dragon named wielded terrifying power even in space age.
Unwelcome, but accept.
Do so.