Chapter 53: Isn’t This Basically a Swimsuit?!

"What? His Majesty has come here?"

"Yes, my lord. He has arrived incognito, accompanied only by a small number of subordinates… What are your orders, sir?"

"No problem. Let him through."

The man—his head disproportionately large for his short stature—replied with arrogant calm.
This was Duke Dayun, younger brother of the King.

Eastern Paptes Kingdom — within the duke’s personal domain stood his fortress.

Having successfully won over and manipulated the neighboring lords, nearly all of the eastern territories were now under the Duke’s control. He had already requested military assistance from the eastern superpower, the Darai Tokazuma Empire, homeland of his wife, and was steadily preparing to ignite civil war.

His elder brother, the King of Paptes, had supposedly sought aid from their western neighbor, the Kingdom of Sugarcreek. But given that kingdom’s current state, there was little chance of any meaningful help arriving.

While his domestic forces still fell short of his brother’s, now that he had the Empire as his backer, the throne itself felt within reach.

At last… finally, I can seize the crown with my own hands.

Dark flames flickered in Dayun’s eyes.

"…Lord Dayun. His Majesty has arrived."

"Good."

The moment his subordinate delivered the report, the grand doors of the hall swung open with a thunderous BANG!

A girl strode in immediately, her boots striking the floor with sharp, echoing clack, clack, clack. Her fierce expression and fiery crimson hair seemed to radiate pure heat and intensity.

"It has been a while, Dayun. You’re still in good health, I trust?"

"Indeed, Your Majesty Gylinades. You seem unchanged yourself."

"Naturally. My forces will be ready to dispatch an advance unit by next week. You should accelerate your preparations on your end as well."

"As you command… Might I ask, however, the reason Your Majesty has come here in person ahead of schedule?"

Dayun looked up at the Emperor like a loyal hound awaiting its master’s approval.

"Simple. Sitting idle in the castle is dull. I thought I might get a little exercise—perhaps by stirring up some trouble here. Point me toward a suitable target."

"Wh-what?! Your Majesty, that’s far too dangerous!"

"Hmph. Spare me your worry, Dayun. The small fry around here are nothing to me. Let’s see… perhaps I’ll start by cleaning out the little mice scurrying about your lands. Heh heh heh."

"Y-Your Majesty, please—why not rest for a while within the castle first—"

"I told you, I’m bored! Consider it a favor—I could even help toughen up your troops!"

Pinned by Gylinades’ predatory gaze, Dayun trembled.

"…V-very well, then. In that case, I shall share with you what intelligence we have regarding the Silver Wheel Knight Order—the garrison that has given us the most trouble nearby."

"Yes, yes. That will do nicely. We’ll take the lead, so you and yours may arrive at your leisure—yawning, perhaps. All you’ll likely need to do afterward is bury the corpses. Heh heh heh."

With that, Gylinades’ lips curled into a wicked grin.

"Heheheheh… I-it has been far too long, hasn’t it, Sonia? Ah—my mistake—Princess Sonia."

"…You seem as lively as ever, Marquis Alan."

As the greasy-faced Marquis Alan leaned far too close, Sonia instinctively tried to keep her distance, avoiding eye contact and pretending to look anywhere else.

Sorry. I still don’t have the mental strength to look directly at you.

"Heheheheh. I-I’ve mentioned this before, but please, just call me Alan. No need for titles! Please—call me Alan! Hahh… hahh…"

"Ah—right. Alan… Marquis, you haven’t changed either, I see."

She let out a dry, awkward laugh in response.

They were currently near the southern border of the Kingdom of Sugarcreek.

It was here that the volunteer army bound for Paptes Kingdom would complete its formation. By afternoon, they would begin their march.

Cry or laugh, beyond this point lay the battlefield.

And unfortunately, Sonia herself had to step onto that battlefield—something that already made her want to cry.
If I actually die out there, I swear I’ll haunt someone. I mean it.

"Please rest assured, Lady Sonia. Even if it costs my life, I shall protect you."

"I-I’m counting on you, Kamina."

"Leave it to me."

Today, Kamina was clad head to toe in full plate armor of pure white, accented with streaks of red at key points.

At her waist hung a pair of rapiers—“cursed” thrusting blades gifted by Zex. On her back rested a bow, and in her hands, a long spear.

A truly formidable warrior in full battle gear.

"Heheheheh. I—I too shall stand by Sonia’s side as her shield! In this battle, I shall prove myself a true man!"

Breathing heavily through his nose, the Marquis leaned forward, pushing his greasy face far too close to mine.

"…W-well, let’s, uh, not go too far, okay?"

He too wore armor today—but it was clearly more for show than for combat. Gold and silver decorations gleamed across its unnaturally thin plating, giving it the flimsy look of a parade costume. No matter how generously I try to describe it, “cardboard armor” feels like the most accurate term.

Over the armor, he’d draped layers of red and yellow silk, gaudy enough to hurt the eyes.
The only weapon at his waist was a long sword so encrusted with gemstones it looked more like jewelry than steel. It was hard to imagine it surviving even a single swing.

When I glanced toward the two thousand troops the Marquis had brought, their numbers were impressive, and their physiques looked solid enough. But their armor and shields were painted in bright reds, yellows, and greens—more suited for a parade than a battlefield.

Honestly, they looked like the Swiss Guards of the Vatican, if the designer had been color-blind.

Still, they were fully equipped and already in formation.

Alongside them were a thousand knights and infantry chosen from the Kingdom of Sugarcreek’s royal army, plus another thousand in logistics, medics, and mercenaries.

In total, four thousand soldiers—our volunteer army bound for the Kingdom of Paptes—were now assembled.

…Meanwhile…

"Hey, um, Alan? I mean, Marquis Alan? Are you sure I have to wear this outfit?"

"Heheheheh! But of course, Sonia—ah, forgive me—Princess! When you address the troops in that attire, their morale will soar to the heavens!"

"…R-right. If you say so."

At the moment, I was dressed in the “commander’s armor” that Marquis Alan had so kindly provided.

Except… “full plate armor” was a generous description.
It only covered my chest and hips—basically a bikini armor—with my entire stomach exposed.

I was wearing a thin, translucent veil-like cape draped over my body, so I wasn’t exactly cold, but still—how on earth was this supposed to be commander’s gear?
I could argue about this for a full hour and still not get a satisfying answer.

But since this was the personal recommendation of the supreme commander for this campaign, refusing outright wasn’t an option. Internal squabbles among the leadership would only hurt morale.

…After a while, the formation ceremony began, and before I knew it, it was my turn to speak.

I took a deep breath, shifted my mindset, and stepped onto the platform.

Below me stood ranks upon ranks of soldiers, lined up in perfect formation.

I raised my voice to address them.

"This campaign is a vital mission—one that represents the will of the Kingdom of Sugarcreek to stand by our ally, the Kingdom of Paptes, in their time of crisis! I ask all of you to fight bravely, in the name of righteousness!"

"OHHHHH!!"

A thunderous roar echoed from the assembled soldiers, their morale surging in response to my words.

Incidentally, Marquis Alan had given a speech earlier too, but it was long, rushed, and nearly incomprehensible—so I’ll spare you the description. It didn’t leave much of an impression anyway.

"…Then, onward! To battle!"

And with that, our army set forth toward the Kingdom of Paptes.

"…Damn it. To think the elite of the Paptes Kingdom’s Silver Wheel Knight Order could be routed so easily…!"

One of the Knight Order’s commanders muttered bitterly.

Before his eyes, yet another knight—horse and all—was struck sideways by an immense blow and sent flying through the air.

The commander’s sharp gaze fixed on the enemy that had launched the sudden assault on their border fortress.

There were only four of them.

A pitiful number compared to the five hundred soldiers stationed in the fortress.

And yet, those four were monsters.

Clad entirely in armor, they were towering figures—three meters tall, perhaps more—metal giants that could hardly be called human.

Where a human head should have been, their necks were reinforced with steel plating and topped with small, cage-like cockpits.
Inside each of those cages sat an armored knight.

One such knight shouted from within his iron giant:

"Rejoice! You have been chosen as the test subjects for my beloved machine—Black Dragon Unit! Now, resist as much as you like, and entertain me!"

With a flourish, the iron giant swung its colossal sword—easily four meters long—across the battlefield in a sweeping arc.

Despite its massive size, it moved with startling agility, cleaving through the fortress’s wooden walls and the archers behind them as if they were made of paper.

"Take this—!"

A knight charged in from behind on horseback, lance lowered—but even that strike barely made the iron giant flinch.

In the blink of an eye, the armored colossus spun, its great sword slicing the knight and his mount into pieces with a thunderous CRASH!

"Come now, struggle a little more! Ha ha ha!"

"Archers! Concentrate your fire on the knight riding atop the giant!"

The commander assumed the knight perched atop the iron behemoth was controlling it through magical means and ordered a focused volley. Flaming arrows shot forth in rapid succession.

Yet each arrow veered harmlessly aside just before striking the giant, as if the machine itself—or its master—mocked their efforts. Not a single shot landed.

"W-what the…!"

"Hmph. Too bad for you!"

From within the armor, Gylinades smiled ferociously. Beneath her plate, she manipulated the controls of the armored puppet—an Armed Doll—with terrifying precision, commanding the killing machine as if it were an extension of herself.

"Good. This time, let’s test the main cannon as well."

She began chanting a spell.

The magic circle formed by her incantation spread through the puppet’s amplification array, drawing immense energy from the Magical Stones embedded in its back. This Imperial technology allowed a mage to perform ritual-level magic far beyond their natural capacity.

"Consider yourselves honored to be the target of this first real-world test… annihilate them! Meteor Strike!"

As her spell concluded, multiple glowing circles appeared across the puppet’s chest. From them, a massive meteor projectile launched toward the fortress center, accelerated to supersonic speed by sheer magical force.

BOOOOOOM!

The blast rocked the battlefield. The entire area was torn apart by the explosion, and any remaining wooden structures were instantly engulfed in flames. At the center of impact, a blackened crater gaped where the fortress once stood—nothing remained.

"Hmph… the test seems successful enough. Pathetic, really. Is that all?"

"Your Majesty, it seems Dayun’s forces will be arriving shortly."

"Is that so? Well, the fortress defenses are mostly destroyed, and the cavalry and archers have been silenced. Let the rest be their problem."

"As you command."

"That concludes the test for now. The wind-magic defense against arrows functioned perfectly, and the main cannon shows no issues. Next, perhaps a test of the magical barrier…"

"It seems Paptes Kingdom has no skilled mages. That test will have to be conducted by our agents."

"Hmph. No real-world tests, then."

Gylinades muttered, clearly bored.

"It would be nice to find an opponent with some spine somewhere."

And with that, the four iron giants withdrew with measured, effortless steps.