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Sixty-eight hours into the operation...

Smoke and thick fog tug and tear at one another.

The deck of the Gastrell is teeming with the seeds and withered branches of the Nachzehrers. Seventy percent of the guns that once breached countless fortresses have now fallen silent.

Its teeth almost completely pulled and its talons whetted smooth, the logical next step is for this prey to be dismantled and devoured.

However, the Nachzehrer's throne has also been pierced by dozens of chain-ladled fortcrackers.

With just one move, the God of War could be pulled from his throne.

You have proven to me... that war marches on.

Two hundred years ago, no Victorian would have come even this far.

Heh... And you, Sarkaz. You've proven that you're not just some decrepit old shadow.

You are indeed a threat to this great land. Perhaps my warship should've paid you a visit sooner, after I tore Gaul apart.

You would have been afforded no such opportunity.

None of you.

A Confessarius transmission.

Yes... In the direction of the Blood of Teekaz.

The Nachzehrer King takes in the entirety of the battlefield.

The enemy is trying to halt the storm. This might change the flow of battle, but it is hardly decisive. Even without the Catastrophe, his warriors are just as savage, just as unrelenting.

Wellington is a worthy opponent, but the fetters of time will soon drag him away. He has no place among the future's wars.

The true threat comes from elsewhere. It comes... from behind.

Theresis and the Confessarius have reminded me that this is not the only battlefield.

Will you attend to it personally?

I have already received the wars promised to me by the Military Commission, present and future.

The Nachzehrers must also fulfill their pact with the Regent.

But before I leave, I must sow some seeds of decay on this battlefield for me to reap upon my return.

A thick haze rises.

Upon the battlefield, only the throne remains.

Is that Nachzehrer... running away?

No. In a real war, there is no retreat.

Wait, General! Look at the throne!

There's some kind of mist pouring from it...

*cough*... *cough*... That isn't any ordinary mist! It's... eating me from the inside!

General, your body–

Soldier, status report on the Gastrell.

Damage to the cabins in excess of sixty percent. Per your previous orders, propulsion capabilities are largely intact! As for weapons–

Remove anything that's basically unusable and discard it on the spot.

Roll out the Originium cannons from the lower deck.

Those are already...

Obsolete. But still enough to kill.

Yessir!

Notify the Gastrell to retreat to G-0 high ground according to the plan, and continue to consolidate defenses there.

We will also follow at speed, while ordering all current battle lines to fall back.

Next, we'll send these Sarkaz over to Caster and Gododdin to handle.

Any news from Shay?

The captain and Lady Eblana have captured most of the Nachzehrer altars in this area!

Yes, I saw. Her flames are... very vivid.

*cough* *cough*.

Medic!

No need.

General?

...Heh.

A battle with no decisive conclusion... will not be my last.

'Alliance Fleet Command Emergency Transmission–'

Three minutes left.

We should be able to hear gunfire from our current position.

Yes, Your Grace. Wellington's column is not far from ours, ensuring we'll be able to provide mutual support.

This battle will determine Victoria's fate.

Indeed, if all goes well–

Then we'll be able to end this meaningless stalemate as quickly as possible.

Those eyes truly burn with a lust for battle.

Do you think he has any ulterior motives?

For two decades, my desk has been filled with intel related to him, along with its response proposals. As of late, these reports have been updating a dozen times a day.

The true struggle begins after the Sarkaz have been dealt with.

But at this moment... Wellington isn't the only one who needs a decisive victory.

The time has come. The assault is about to commence, and he has never failed to be punctual.

Ahh, do you hear that?

The Gastrell's full broadside... Such a different timbre it is compared to our ships.

But after this battle, Caster's name will shine alongside Wellington's in the annals of Victorian military history–

'Anomaly, anomaly. 00 and 01! Repeat! 00 and 01!'

Drat, the comms have been cut?!

Your Grace, all signals from the Duke of Wellington... have vanished.

A group of Sarkaz suddenly emerged from the Catastrophe and have engaged in battle with our frontline troops!

What the hell is Wellington doing?! Acting alone at a time like this... that vainglorious fool! Has he gone senile?

Impossible.

I do have a conjecture, though. Do you think he deceived Caster? Or rather, everyone?

That... doesn't make any sense. This is the Iron Duke we're talking about. Why would he abandon the other, more easily-manipulated dukes to go ally with the Sarkaz?

It's a game of prisoner's dilemma among the dukes.

How would the Duke of Windermere, a warrior, treat her foes?

...She'd kill them all.

And wipe the last speck of their blood across their seized spoils.

Before he became first among the Victorian dukes, Wellington had already been leading troops for decades longer than your mother.

As a noble among nobles, Caster was used to everyone playing by the same set of rules.

After spending too long seated in front of the card table, she might've forgotten that some unreasonable people, such as us gangster types, have a penchant for flipping the entire table.

Hypothetically, if the Iron Duke truly saw all of Victoria as enemies rather than competitors – he'd never even give Caster a single chip to bargain with.

Catastrophe!

The next wave of Catastrophes struck far sooner than any of the Catastrophe Messengers predicted – all our comms have been knocked offline!

How long for repairs?

Fifteen minutes. No, we'll make it ten!

...Your Grace.

You came back on Wellington's orders.

Indeed.

You're heavily injured. Who's responsible?

Not any of the Iron Duke's men.

He... lost to that Sarkaz?

After the Gastrell opened fire, the Nachzehrers' advance brigade emerged from the fog.

They moved extremely quickly, using already-deployed altars to destroy a small warship – Abercorn's infantry had already engaged them for a spell.

We expected the Gastrell to aid this ship.

But...

He retreated instead.

That's right. The Gastrell has turned back.

All of Wellington's other ships are covering the flagship's retreat. Their casters... have also changed targets, relying on the covering fire from our ships to secure their own vessel's retreat.

What about Abercorn and Ashworth's ships?

Completely exposed to the Nachzehrers' assault.

They expected to show up as support – but now find themselves facing the enemies head-on.

Wellington's ships have completely blocked off the retreat. He's even trying to push Abercorn and the others towards the front lines.

It won't be long until the remaining alliance forces are wiped out... and become sustenance for the Nachzehrers.

Your Grace, the alliance forces dispatched to the heart of the battle has collapsed, and the Sarkaz will soon return to the rear where we're situated.

The plan to cut off and encircle the Sarkaz has failed! We're at risk of getting surrounded ourselves!

At risk?

No, it's already too late.

What's enveloping us... is much more than the Catastrophe.

...Nachzehrers!

The signal's back online, and we've run into a large contingent of Nachzehrers... No, it's an entire army!

There's another force approaching from the right... Is that their second army?

They've already begun fighting. The Catastrophe is amplifying the Nachzehrers' witchcraft—!

The Originium response is spiking sharply! Your Grace, watch yourself–

Troops on the battlefield still able to receive any feeble signals at all simultaneously are sent a staticky message––

The Gloriana has been confirmed destroyed.

Vina remembers the first time she saw a high-speed battleship.

It was sitting on her father's desk. A small scale model, only as long as an adult's forearm. Its crystal flagpole would fall over with just a little poke.

Her father pushed her touchy-feely hands away, telling her that high-speed battleships are akin to metallic monsters that conquer the land. They, like the indomitable city of Londinium, were the crowning jewels of Victoria's industrial technology.

'Alexandrina, when you are older, I will take you aboard the newest battleship. You will see for yourself.'

Many years later, when Vina did in fact see one, it was only upon the battlefield.

Be it Windermere's, Caster's, or Wellington's warship, they were so majestic that the people standing beneath them were mere specks in comparison.

But at this moment, the broken warship in the palm of the colossal Originium wave before her seems to have reverted to the tiny toy she played with in her childhood.

That... Originium Wave, crushed the Gloriana into pieces.

My eardrums... are still aching––

The sound of a warship being destroyed... I doubt there's anyone nearby who didn't hear it...

The duke driving that huge thing... is dead, just like that?

Grr... Hey, Dagda, you'd better not shit yourself.

You're the one whose hands are shaking.

Hmph.

You've been quiet this whole time, Dagda. What's on your mind?

They made an example of the Duke of Caster at this critical juncture. The Sarkaz intentions are all too clear.

What might that be? A warning?

No, it's a message. A message that the Sarkaz are about to launch an all-out attack.

Inform all our comrades and prepare for the next assault–

The Duke of Caster's not dead.

Horn! Our morale's completely shot right now...

That was quite the commotion just now. Nobody has ever seen anything like that before... including us.

But, the captain's already sent out a bunch of old vets to tag along with you and calm down the fresh greens. Aye, looks like it's been workin' out.

Bagpipe, don't hold them to our standards, even if you're just doing it subconsciously. The Exemplars just happen to be a particularly special case.

Aye. Got it, Captain.

Horn, you just said... that the Duke of Caster is still alive? You seem quite certain about that.

Take a look – the muzzles of the Gloriana's cannons have been locked on since the very beginning.

Huh?

There might be countless criticisms about Victoria's grand dukes... But holding that position for decades is no easy feat.

Since the Gloriana has not ceased its resistance, that means the Duke of Caster has not perished.

As for the actual situation... maybe that's something a Trilby Asher can clear up for us.

He left the moment the Gloriana started to run into trouble.

He might be in the vicinity trying to a get in contact with the Gloriana to figure out what's actually going on.

But from what he told us, the Stone of the Sword we're looking for is also right there–

Siege, what's our next move?

We've just heard back from the outpost!

The Gloriana has been completly surrounded by the Royal Court's blitz attack, and the Duke of Wellington has suddenly withdrawn his forces.

The situation in the surrounding areas has rapidly deteriorated––

Vina, I'm afraid that... we'll have to halt our march at once.