Chapter 142
Chapter 142
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Translator: uly
Chapter: 142
Chapter Title: Crimson Barrage
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‘This isn’t enough.’
In this unstable aiming situation, the only way I could boost my accuracy was to crank up the output and fire it in as wide a spread as possible.
I activated the "Blessing" trait I’d gained from the Infected Monarch, energizing my entire body.
A euphoric rush followed, along with an even more intense energy reaction spreading out around me.
-Over there. Looks like we’ve been spotted?
“Not yet. Hold still.”
At this point, anyone but an idiot would notice.
They’d probably leaped away expecting a main gun salvo from somewhere.
‘Even a slight miss means failure.’
Before they could react, I accelerated my preparations and focused my mind.
A strange sensation began to bloom amid the rising heat.
It felt like the first time I’d fired the Crimson Cannon—my senses expanding.
Back then, I could only detect aliens with strong signals. Now, it was like I had the surrounding energy reactions right in my grasp.
‘...Again.’
I’d had precursors to this odd sensation several times before.
Most recently, when I dodged Piercing’s ability, and when I maxed out the Horn’s power output.
It wasn’t unique to me.
The original story described high-level martial artists or ability users as capable of sensitively detecting external energy flows.
But nothing like this range.
‘Anyway, thanks for the timely assist.’
Pushing the thought aside, I realigned my aim.
Through comms, I heard Albert’s noisy chatter alongside the enemy’s movements as they prepared suppressive fire.
But I fired first.
Flash!!
The Crimson Cannon, unleashed at maximum output, closed the 100km gap in an instant, hurtling toward the enemy vanguard.
Fired in spread form, its individual power was weaker, but it encompassed most of them in range.
Dodging was pointless.
As the enemy hurriedly maxed out their barriers, the Crimson Cannon struck home.
-Wow...
A brilliant red light blazed across the void of space.
Explosions from properly hit ships followed, lighting up the stars in a fireworks display.
This single attack sank roughly thirty ships.
Nearly half their force wiped out.
-Hmm, if I’ve offended you in any way, could you let me know upfront? I’m not really in the mood to die like that.
Cooling down, I got a call from Albert.
His dazed tone suggested he was still reeling.
“Cut the chatter and move. They’re coming.”
-...Huh? Wait, what!
We’d inflicted massive damage in one shot.
No way they’d let the culprit sit pretty.
The fleet halted its attack on the city and swung its guns toward us.
Albert snapped to and pulled off a gorgeous evasion maneuver to flee, but the enemy fire was relentless.
Soon enough, cornered, he let out a shrill scream.
-Do something!
“I’m already doing my best!”
That strange sensation, now locked in, didn’t fade easily.
Thanks to it, I downed the Crimson Cannon’s power for quick shots, intercepting threats, but several enemy rounds had already grazed our barrier.
They were desperate now, too.
Resolved not to eat another hit like that, they pursued us with everything they had.
“Head for the planet!”
-I’m trying, but they’re herding us outward!
Just break into the atmosphere.
Then Albert could slip away with his ability, and I could tough it out and crash-land.
But the enemy seemed wise to it, pushing us farther from the planet.
“You escape first. Distance is still safe, right?”
-And you?
“I’ll manage...!”
That’s when support fire rained down.
Not from the city.
From far out in space, the outer reaches.
Turning, I spotted something approaching from a distant speck.
‘Union forces?’
The thought hit first.
Day seven of isolation.
Lucky timing for reinforcements.
But the incoming ID code via comms dashed that hope.
-Captain. Long time no see.
“Frederic?”
-We see you’re in a bind. Requesting permission to join the fray.
Shockingly, it was Frederic with his newly expanded and reorganized Golden Fleet.
“How are you here already?”
-We mobilized the moment we heard. Got lucky and arrived nearby. Captain Kabaski’s help was key. Full report after we wrap this up.
Questions swirled, but this wasn’t the time.
The enemy was in full rout.
Their attacks on us ceased as they floored it in the opposite direction from the incoming fleet.
Suddenly laid-back.
As I sealed my left arm to vent the heat, Albert chimed in again.
-Already spectacular. Definitely won’t be boring.
“Shut it.”
I lay against the hull, enjoying the space fireworks for a bit.
A rare moment of leisure.
*
Regrettably, we didn’t achieve total payback.
About twenty ships escaped by risking unstable AD Drive jumps.
Given the chaos, over half probably didn’t survive coord calculation errors, but it still stung.
Good news, too.
Among the seven ships that surrendered instead of fleeing, we found Asana.
He was confined in the captain’s cabin, bound by his own crew.
Kabaski, spotting him, had murder in his eyes—Asana’s future looked grim.
“Welcome aboard, Captain.”
“Whoa...”
Entering the bridge, the crew saluted in unison, led by Frederic.
“You prepared all this?”
“Captain authentication first, sir.”
Frederic smiled and handed me the master key.
“Test-driving ahead of your actual captain? Making me jealous.”
“Think of it as a shakedown. Couldn’t test full performance without official auth.”
I approached the captain’s chair.
This battleship, built by the Monarch family, displaced 65,000 tons.
In the 50,000-100,000 ton class, a step up from the Shira-class to Murdoch-class.
Compared to my old 13,000-ton ship, it was five times bigger.
The bridge had expanded accordingly.
Previously a spartan, utilitarian space; now blending convenience.
-Master key confirmed.
The familiar machine voice greeted me.
I ran through biometrics and captain registration, then optimized the main AI based on data from my old ship.
No more R3D3 AI because we’d built up plenty of baseline data for convenience.
Plus, R3D3 and battleship AIs had fundamentally different architectures.
Fine for a Shira-class, but a Murdoch-class needed a tailored AI to max performance.
-Welcome, new Captain. Looking forward to serving.
“Me too.”
I set the ship’s voice to a feminine tone with a mechanical edge.
The interface popped up before the captain’s chair.
Same basics, just more to monitor.
Eyeballing a quick check, I turned to Frederic.
“Mission accomplished safely. Congratulations, sir.”
He offered congrats first, like last time.
Upgrading a ship class in just a year was impressive.
Union officers typically served ten years on the same grade—five-year shifts—before promotion chances.
A meteoric rise.
‘Well, it’s me. Bought and paid for with my own money.’
Originally a military contract build.
Wouldn’t have gone to me without my track record.
Monarch family pulled strings since they built it.
“Plenty of room to breathe now.”
“Your quarters are like a gymnasium. Crew was thrilled checking theirs.”
“Gymnasium, huh...”
I’d tweaked the design for more personal space.
Still cramped.
Just 30% bigger than before—hardly a field.
Truth be told, expanding general crew quarters stemmed more from personal greed than kindness.
Couldn’t just widen mine alone.
For an elite crew setup, matching welfare levels justified the call, satisfying all.
‘...Practicality and all.’ Only possible with a private ship.
Crew equaled combat power.
Tight designs could pack 1.5x more bodies—military skippers would never allow it.
“Anyway, fill me in on what happened.”
“Yes, sir.”
Frederic rewound to six days ago.
Pre-launch prep for the new ship’s commissioning when Shia’s urgent call came.
“Heard regular comms with Yumaha Planet cut out. Knew it was bad news.”
Drive Gates handled periodic check-ins automatically.
Missed ping triggered retries; failures meant emergency.
“Wrapped up fast and sortied with minimal crew.”
“Bet launch approval was a hassle.”
“Not at all. Granted on request.”
“Instantly?” New battleships needed registration processes.
Days to weeks, normally.
Even prepped last time, it dragged— instant approval sounded fishy.
‘Darmosa pulled strings?’
Pondering how, Frederic dropped a bombshell.
“The real shock’s later. En route, detoured New Eden—Shia explained. Alien sightings in Union rear, fleet shortages.”
“What!?”
I blurted in shock.
‘Already...?’
Expanding invasion paths was foreseen.
Timing was the issue.
Should’ve had a year’s buffer by my estimates—this was trouble.
“Details?”
“Left immediately after, so that’s all I know.”
“No word on invasion scale?”
“No. Just that it was sudden, heavy casualties likely.”
Headache incoming.
Butterfly effect from improving on canon.
‘No fix for now.’
Silver lining: new rear front wouldn’t turn as deadly as the current one soon.
‘Initial response is key.’
Canon botched it.
Fleet shortages let aliens spread and evolve.
Different now.
Power shortages chronic, but better than canon.
‘Push energy amplifiers for secondary batteries sooner.’
Second-biggest boost to Union firepower after fighters.
Fleet guns critical for air defense raids—proper supply would ease burdens.
En route to Yumaha, we swapped stories with Frederic.
By arrival, citizens knew it was over via comms.
Thus ended the Yumaha incident.