Глава 14

...Rout the Sarkaz.

...Today, the second time.

We witnessed her departure.

A great King of Sarkaz, a true hero.

She initiated an unprecedented grand undertaking for the Sarkaz.

And we... are witnesses, and participants.

From the Royal Court camps to the War Council, and to the Military Commission of today—

We will never fall as long as war still goes on. We have already wrested enough victories for the Sarkaz over the past millennia.

He looks up at the dreadful scene in the sky with only reverence.

The Victorians zealously chase after the phantom of victory while never understanding of why we crave war in the first place.

...'From death comes new life'.

Hah. This war has sated me.

'The 106th Assault Artillery Brigade has successfully regrouped with the 2nd and 8th Battalions of the Duke of Normandy's Grenadier Regiments!'

'9th Battalion Armored Corps and The Exemplars have seized control of Hill 92!'

'Anti-Witchcraft cannons back online!'

Mid-range communication has been restored.

Your Grace, the battlefield is back under our control.

...What of him?

The Gastrell is severely damaged, and should still be—

Hold on, we just managed to locate it!

It's—right next to us!

Your Grace, an urgent telegram from the Duke of Gododdin.

...Have our forces dispatched to Duskglow River withdraw at once.

Yes, Your Grace.

Your Grace...

...Were we late?

All frequencies... went down simultaneously. He blinded every single eye of ours.

That Duke of Wellington...

Many years ago, by the Duskglow River... he told me a day would come when nothing would be able to stop the advance of high-speed battleships.

He's done it.

Your Grace, the Gastrell has paused its advance!

The Iron Duke's warships are forming up again!

Three light battleships have turned their guns toward—

Isn't that the Duke of Wellington's ship?

––What the bloody hell are they doing?!

The Sarkaz have only just retreated, but he wants to start another war with the dukes right away?! Has he truly gone mad?!

The dead... that fire in their eyes...

The nearby 'Adjutant Hill' stops in his tracks.

The purple fire leaves from his eyes, floating to someplace higher, further away.

To shadows and smoke enshrouding an entire fleet of steel.

Your Royal Highness Eblana, are you ready?

Anytime.

Flame falls from the sky, rolling across the flagship's bow, burning the original flag instantly.

Similar fires blossom in purple one after the other on every ship in Wellington's fleet.

Huh? What day is it today? What's with the fireworks?

Heck, not just that—Isn't that the municipal building? What was that they just rolled down from up there—

It's a new flag.

We worked so hard just for today, you know.

So? Looks nice, doesn't it?

Thank you for the flower, Miss Reed! It's so pretty!

What are you looking at, Miss?

Um... we are quite a distance from Londinium, yes?

Could the ashes from the battlefield float this far?

A spark falls on the Draco's fingertip.

The fleeting purple fades, leaving only a speck of dull grey ash.

...It's hot.

...Tara.

After a century, we finally raise our flag once more on this land.

We have proved our strength to the Sarkaz and the Victorians.

Here and now, no one will be able to stop us, to scorn us.

Tarans—my people, they shall become a force that can control the war, and shape the land.

We shall let everyone see the coming of a new age.

The Draco raises her hand, smiling at the land.

Every Taran flag flutters in unison.

A rich purple coalesces under the clouds—

Finally, it stands against the crimson storm and the still flickering golden light.

He really has no intention of letting us breathe.

Wellington...

Do you truly hate Victoria, or...?

Your Grace, an urgent telegram from the Duke of Gododdin.

And the Duke of Normandy, as well as the Duke of Fife...

Let them sit in their anxiety for a while.

Back then, we joined hands to confine this warmonger into a duke's attire. Now we have no choice but to suffer the consequences of our actions.

Go, fetch the proposal locked away in the first drawer on the right side of my desk.

I wrote it myself... before I came to Londinium.

Will the Iron Duke... be willing to restart negotiations?

No, that's not it.

Victoria will no longer have an Iron Duke in future.

But Caster may perhaps find a new powerful ally.

By reforging an alliance with Wellington at this time?

This is in our best interests.

He knows I will make this choice. He and King Gaeil's descendant... treat war and death like their bargaining chips.

We must recognize Tara's independence if we don't wish to go to war on two fronts at this critical juncture.

Our soldiers and people will be furious once they find out about Wellington's betrayal. They won't accept our choice so easily either.

...Indeed.

But what of it?

The people have always longed for a 'hero' that descends from the heavens to guide them.

The Duke casts her gaze toward the battlefield below.

The soldiers are excitedly chanting a name in the wake of their fresh decisive victory—

'Exemplars'.

She certainly doesn't resemble her father.

Other than her golden hair... speaking of which, it's amusing how legitimate heirs to the Aslan royal line always sport such dazzling hair that you can see it shine from afar.

You mean...

Heh. Ah, Alexandrina. That girl might just be Victoria's chosen one.

The ducal fleets are restructuring their formation...

They're...

Slowing their pursuit?

So that's why the cannons go all quiet?! What are they thinking? The Sarkaz only just retreated, so now's the best time to give them a thrashing!

That's Gododdin's frigate.

They're approaching... the wreck of Caster's flagship. Seems like he's taking the opportunity for a breather.