BOOM
The sky above Littorial Kingdom's airspace, just 30 miles away, trembled with a strange metallic hum—an alien sound to those born under stars guided by mana.
Seven imperial ships floated steadily across the black waters, their sails tight and hulls gleaming with enchanted armor carrying several magical circles that hummed and revealed themselves after each collision and explosion.
However, it appeared as though the crystals which powered those magical circles were also straining due to the continuous barrage of attacks from some weapons that were far beyond this world's comprehension.
Three ships guarded either side of the central command vessel, forming a wide V-formation over the endless sea.
And that endless ocean was not as calm as it appeared, given that, like vultures preying on a beast about to die on land, three metallic creatures seemed to move at inhuman pace.
Their speed, the loud sound, and the intensity of the attacks had already destroyed two of the ship's mana shields, penetrating them as they were now nothing but vulnerable to any attack.
"What in the goddess's name is that!?" barked one of the officers, gripping his sword tightly as he charged his body, pulling mana from his core, covering his sword's upper layer with a then-fused energy shield, as he looked towards those things far beyond their reach.
"Artillery?" another shouted over the chaos. "No, it's not magic! There's no spell circle in the air!"
"They're shooting without mages!" someone yelled from a crow's nest. "They don't even have mages!"
BOOM!
A loud whirring sound passed overhead, and everyone looked up to see three sleek, metal beasts soaring above—smooth, sharp, and unnatural.
A burst of flame erupted from their bellies as three more missiles shot toward the central ship.
"INCOMING!"
----
F-35 "Ghost-9" – Combat Channel 1
Time: 0400 UTC | Operation Lightning Dawn
"Command, this is Ghost-9. We have visual on the enemy fleet. Seven ships in V-formation, twenty-eight nautical miles out from the coast. Targets are... strange. The structure resembles medieval galleons, but they're shimmering with some kind of energy field."
Static. Then—
"Ghost-9, this is Talon Command. Confirm visual. Proceed with primary strike directive. Engage with AIM-154C Raptors."
"Roger that. Deploying standard payload."
SCRCCHH
Missiles fire.
BOOM!
"Impact confirmed… but shields are holding. Repeat, the targets are absorbing kinetic impact. Something's wrong. No heat signatures like conventional shield systems. Our rounds are destabilizing their armor, but not breaching."
F-18 "Hawk-3" breaks comm silence.
"Command, this is Hawk-3. We're reading crystalline power sources embedded in the ships' hulls. Target 2 and 4 are showing energy spikes—possibly regenerating the shield matrix."
Another burst of static.
"Say again, Hawk-3? Shield matrix?"
"They're using some kind of energy we can't identify. It's not nuclear, not plasma, not EM-based. They just pulse after impact. Like it's alive."
Beneath the pilot's helmet, sweat pools. These weren't just wooden ships. These things were resisting physics.
Suddenly—
"Ghost-9! We have humanoid visuals on deck. Repeat, humanoid. They're channeling light around their arms—blades, maybe? Wait—Holy hell, one of them just deflected an AIM-154 mid-air!"
Everyone goes silent.
"Command, we have humans on the deck. They're not civilians. They're moving with impossible acceleration and countering our ordinance. Something's interfering with our targeting systems. Are we under tech-jam?"
"No jamming detected. It's like… our systems can't see them properly. Like they're ghosting infrared."
Ghost-9 pulls hard to the right, trailing smoke.
"Requesting authorization for THOR-Class deployment. Repeat: we need Tactical High-Ordnance Response—suggesting AGM-300 'Godhammer' payload. Low-yield tactical nuke. These bastards aren't dying."
Talon Command's reply is hesitant.
"Negative on nuke, Ghost-9. Not yet. We still have unknowns. Use APEX-9 cluster disruptors. Let's see if tech-based area saturation can crack their formation."
The pilot's voice hardens.
"What if even that fails?"
"Then we will retreat to share the information with headquarters. This world is too strange; we will have to make it out alive...signals aren't connecting properly due to radiation of some sort."
-----
On the deck of the central imperial ship...
Chaos raged.
Two allied ships burned in the distance, their magical barriers shattered like glass. The sky roared as three unnatural, metallic beasts—faster than any wyvern—sliced across the clouds and launched fire from their bellies.
BOOM!
A missile struck close—violently shaking the deck. Soldiers stumbled. One lost his footing and nearly fell overboard.
Then—
A door slammed open.
CLANG. CLANG.
Boots of black metal stepped forward. Every creak of the deck quieted beneath their weight.
Commander Aphastius had arrived.
"What is happening—" Behind him, Princess Asperia stood with wind-tossed hair, flanked by her twin maids. Her eyes widened at the inferno unfolding before her.
Two more missiles streaked in.
"KYAA!" She stumbled forward from the force of the shockwave, caught at the last second by a maid.
"PRINCESS!"
From the lower deck, a battered soldier caught sight of her. His eyes lit up.
"THE PRINCESS IS HERE! SHE'LL BLESS US!"
Heads turned. Even mid-combat, hope bloomed.
One soldier immediately dropped his shield. "I KNEW she'd come! We're saved!"
Another shouted, "Make my muscles glow, Your Highness! I'm ready!"
A third mumbled under his breath, "Maybe she'll fix my back too while she's at it…"
Naturally, all of their words could have been misunderstood if not for everyone being aware that the Princess possessed the ability of eternal healing, where she can buff anyone while healing their injuries to a certain extent.
More like increasing their overall body capabilities, including their healing factor. So in traditional ways, she was not a healer but a buffer.
But before she could act, Aphastius raised a gauntleted hand.
"Stay back. You don't need to exhaust yourself, Princess."
His voice was calm, deep, and… somewhat annoyed. Almost like a father scolding a child for stepping near a puddle.
The situation from his side was very critical, and it might endanger the Princess's life as she seemed far too conscious, with eyes narrowed towards those unknown things he did not understand.
They were definitely not dragons but something capable of firing attacks equivalent to mid-tier to high-tier artillery magic.
Of course, those things were still far behind the real dragon breath he held.
The soldiers paused, expressions caught between amusement and panic.
"Y-yes, the commander is right, Princess," soldiers also seemed to realize their priority, clenching their jaws before giving a nod as they turned towards those things attacking them while noticing how the Princess seemed sweaty.
They faced the skies again, blades glowing, ready to die if they had to.
But Princess Asperia?
She narrowed her eyes.
"No," she said. Her voice wasn't loud—but it carried.
Ignoring her uncle, she raised both hands. Mana rippled out like a tidal wave.
FWOOM
A ring of green light burst from her chest—washing across the deck like a spring breeze.
The soldiers straightened as their bodies shimmered in a radiant emerald glow. Cuts healed. Bones snapped back into place. Speed, vision, reflexes—all enhanced.
A moment later, another barrage of missiles came—and this time, the soldiers dodged them.
"Th-this...." It didn't take long for the soldiers to feel a ripple as all of their bodies seemed to temporarily boost beyond the human limits.
Aphastius moved, stepped forward toward the deck, as he was already expecting that his niece would do something like that even if he rejected it, simply for her own health as using her ability would soon exhaust her.
The wind tugged at his cape as he climbed the highest part of the deck. His gauntlet rested on the hilt of his sheathed sword.
One breath in.
Eyes closed.
His fingers tightened.
And then—
"Third form of Split Sword: Dragon Severing Strike."
FWIP
He unsheathed his blade with a motion that seemed to not happen.
There was no flash. No roar. No special effect.
Just stillness.
A line of white light appeared in the sky—splitting one of the jets clean in two.
KRZHHHHH!
The machine didn't explode immediately. It paused—as if confused it was dead—before bursting into a flaming storm, raining steel into the sea.
The remaining two jets climbed sharply, their formation broken.
A stunned silence fell over the deck before it was disturbed by the sound that came later than the visual of the fighter's blast.
BOOOM!