Attack on Sector 10

[Kuro]

Gray against black. Metal on metal. Hisses and whirring.

The night sky was black, its stars hidden from all of the smog in the air. The snow fell, somewhat grayed from the pollution prevalent in the area. Snow almost always fell, coming from seemingly every direction, stinging your face and freezing your fingers. The snow was at least a foot high off of the ground, difficult for the ordinary person to track through. The soldiers were not too bothered in their warm, metal armor and the machines were not affected at all. Sometimes it was hard to tell the two apart.

White walls stood high in the snow. Each corner of the walls were a watchtower, complete with one turret each and a spotlight that searched the darkness for any filth that would dare invade. Only one wall served as a gate, and at the moment it was closed; it could easily be told that it was the gate because the watchtowers on the ends of that wall were taller and larger in diameter, with two turrets each instead of one. Of course, there was also the fact that the A.I logo was only on one of the walls, that wall being the gate. Soldiers and machines were stationed between the watchtowers of the four walls, the machines standing still as the humans moved about in their patrols, their guns at the ready. The soldiers barely felt any of the cold run through their body, for they had gotten oh so used to it by now.

The soldiers were an odd sight. Their uniforms were a mix of heavy armor, dials, valves, and the machines on their backs. The machines in question were large, black, backpack-looking things that seemed to be connected to them through various pipes and chutes and tubes that connected into other pipes and holes. Steam occasionally hissed from the small pipes and openings about the soldier's body, the only visible cloth the ones around the joints. They wore metallic gas masks, a filter on each side, one on the left cheek area and one on the right cheek area. Black, opaque half-orbs of goggles covered their eyes, completely obscuring the windows to their souls. Their helmets covered whatever the mask didn't and with that, the soldier was ready; their metal boots sounded out loud against the metal of the wall and one could hear the jostling and clanking of their clunky armor. The machines were different; they moved as rigidly as a clockwork toy and had no hands, only a new type of gun from the elbow down for each arm. This gun seemed to be eight long shafts put together and attached to a large canister that had ammo inside. Tubes connected these guns to a large, black mechanism on their backs that had pipes sticking out of it that would either hiss steam or continuously spew black smog. They wore much heavier, tank-like armor than the humans, with six large pipes sticking out of their back and choking the air with even more continuous black somke. The faces of these mechanized soldiers were white masks with three black circles serving as the eyes and mouth and due to wear and age, black fluids had leaked from many of those outlets over the years, leaving stain marks that looked like the remains of tears smudged with something black.

Behind these walls was the purpose of Sector 10. Buildings of various sizes, from long one-story warehouses to large, box-like three-story factories were spread about, each of them topped with smokestacks that fed the sky with endless smog. The walls covered a very large area, all of which was used for the military complex. Tanks and soldiers were scattered about the place, the squads of troops marching from one spot to the next, the machines following closely behind. In the heart of all of this was the one thing that anyone outside of the walls could have seen, one building so tall that it scraped the sky. It had to have been at least 30 floors high, each one with the majority of their walls replaced by windows. Spotlights on the roof of the building searched the night sky for activity and each of the floors shone bright from the lights within, making it clear and visible across almost the entire island, in case the spotlights didn't do the trick. From behind the windows, researchers and businessmen watched the products of their work, wrote down notes, made deals, and clinked their wineglasses.

To the public, Sector 10 was forbidden. While Sectors 9 and 11 were the world's most extravagant and lucrative festivals of consumerism, Sector 10 was something that A.I's public relations department tried to keep just enough attention away from so that no one would ask questions, but everyone could glimpse at an example of their power. Since only Sectors 9, 10, and 11 were outside of the Calm Belt, one of them had to serve military purposes in case there were any unexpected inconveniences from the transportation of material from the Calm Sectors to the Grand Sectors. It was not the heart of A.I's military power, no, far from it. There was an unspeakable hunger brewing in the Calm Belt, one far more voracious than any Sea King's. One day, after years of stirring in its sealed-off realm, it had found its way into the Grand Line, the outside world, and gripped it as tightly as it could. Sector 10 was a sign of such a grip; if the hunger were left unchecked, it would be the first of many such complexes. Sector 10 was A.I marking its claim on the Grand Line, a prize that the corporation had every intention of controlling.

[Kyubey]

On the island of Sector 11, just off the shore, an army stood dormant. The sea was at their backs, behind them looming the giant wooden ship they sailed in on. These soldiers, numbering in the thousands, remained waiting in perfect formation, standing at attention. Some were armed with swords, some with spears, some with axes and other tools of war, with archers divided throughout. Horses pawed at the snowy ground beneath them, With their dignified armored riders looking far above the surrounding infantry. If the cold or the tense, dreadful atmosphere affected any of these men-at-arms, they didn't show it in their steely faces. None of them dared to. Not all the foot soldiers were in full armor, the unarmored ones mostly being the drafted units, though most of them were, covered in light but thick plating. At the very front of this army, in a straight line spanning the whole of the front, was the elite lancer force, the Bergritter, distinguishable by their long lances and armor whiter than the snow around them. Leading the Bergritter was Gotz van Hallstatt, atop a huge horse that was somehow strong enough to support both his large frame and the heavy armor he was wearing.

Near the center of this mighty formation was the Queen herself, Claudia Gudrun von Acis, perched atop a large destrier. Though she did not appear to be a queen of any sort of fashion. Her appearance on this island called to mind not a ruler, but a conqueror, dressed in the finest armor. She was adorned with decorated plating, sharp shoulder blades, a great shield, and an ornate helmet that called to mind images of some mythical beast, a dragon or griffin perhaps. Behind her helmet, her eyes were cast forward, as if she could see straight through the darkness and steel, right at the enemy she yearned to fight. Her expression was hard and grim, remaining perfectly still, as though frozen in the cold.

"Your Majesty!" said a voice approaching her swiftly. Claudia turned her head to find that the voice came from Antal Laverna, who previously she had sent as a scout. No helmet protected his head from the element, and he was not wielding just one weapon, but was carrying a crossbow, a spear, and a saber at his hip. Upon reaching the queen, he bowed down low, his knees sinking into the snow beneath.

"What did you find?" she said in a no-nonsense tone.

"Why, lots of things," he replied. While talking, they used hushed tones, so as to not draw any particular attention to themselves. "First of all, I found that it's very cold." He flashed a smile, of the kind that suggested he didn't really know who he was talking to.

"This is no time for levity, you complete fool!"

"Right. My apologies, Your Majesty. Well, it's just like we thought. It seems to be a fortress of some kind. There's men all around that base of theirs. Weapons, too, like I've never seen before. They have watchtowers at each of the corners, and are equipped with guns and light."

"Light?"

"Aye! Weird circles of light that move."

"You didn't go into it, did you?" said Alaric, whose horse stood beside Claudia's.

"Of course I didn't! I don't wish to die!"

"Good. Did any soldiers see you?"

"If they did, I didn't notice. But I kept low. We Laverna are pretty good at sneaking."

"Fair enough. Most importantly, are there any entry points we can use?"

"Nothing but the big gate up ahead, but it's closed shut and I doubt they'll open for us if we ask."

"Not an issue. Did you hear that, Princess?"

Princess Elvia Iduna von Acis rode up to the queen on a white courser. Her helm was held under her arm, and a small bit of cloth was wrapped around the lower half of her face, to block off the scent of the pollution in the air. "I did, mother."

"Could you open the gates?"

Elvia shrugged. "Haven't even seen the gates yet. But if I get close enough, I'll open 'em up for you."

Claudia nodded. "Thank you, Elvia. Salvius."

Upon hearing his name, a sharp-faced archer with a crooked nose and tremendous sideburns stepped forward. "Your Majesty." Salvius was the leader of the Galatean archery unit, a man with excellent senses who came from a long line of warriors.

"How well are your eyes adjusted to the dark?"

Salvius smirked. "Well enough, well enough."

"Then move ahead of us. Once the watchtowers come into your range, make sure they're vacated. That will be the signal for the rest of us to move."

"Understood." He signaled to a few of his men, and they moved their way through the troops, pushing ahead of the Bergritter. Following their lead, Elvia shoved on her helm to take her place towards the frontlines.

"Elvia." said Claudia suddenly, stopping the Princess momentarily. "Remember to be cautious. This will not be like anything else you know."

Elvia glowered, her eyes barely showing from behind her helmet. "I can do this. You watch."

As Elvia moved ahead, Claudia raised a single hand, signalling her entire army.

"Advance."

The Acis army began moving forward, at a slow, careful pace, wary of any Arkadians who might have come at them from the darkness. The one good thing about the snow was that it helped cover the sound of their movements, and the darkness cloaked them nicely.

"By the way," said Claudia as her troops pushed slowly forward, "Where is that wretch Sindri? I was sure I would have heard from him by now."

"Haven't you noticed?" said Alaric. "He disappeared a while back. Shortly after we landed was when I noticed."

"I see," she said, not showing any reaction in her tone or mannerisms.

As the archers began to get closer to the base they were to attack, Salvius made a motion for them to stop, and the entire army stopped after them. They were at a barely safe distance now, only a short distance away from the reaches of the spotlights, only the cover of night protecting them. In that sense, the lights of Sector 10 gave the Galateans an advantage. Salvius made a few more silent motions to the small handful of archers, and they drew their bows back, arrows at the ready.

It was Salvius himself who let free the first arrow. Five projectiles total now went soaring through the air, each aimed at one of the watchtowers that flanked the gate. The arrows cut through the night, aimed true at their targets.

The sound of the bows was the signal to attack. The notes of the arrows firing were just as good as music to the warriors who heard them. The battle had begun.

"All troops, charge!" Claudia called out, sword raised high in the air.

"Bergitter! Move forward!"

"For the Kingdom! Spare no man!"

Claudia's army, with all its might, came rushing forward, each soldier ready to stab, batter, maim, shoot, trample, or otherwise destroy whatever enemy stood before them. At the forefront were the Bergritter as always, lances poised forward and armored horses charging ahead. Just behind them was Elvia, warhammer in one hand, with the reigns of her horse in the other, the reigns to her steed in the other, a bloodthirsty warcry escaping her lips. All around her, infantry units were running alongside, trying desperately to keep up.

The importance of this battle was not lost on Claudia. As one of the first strikes of the war, she felt it was her duty, to her nation and to her allies, to show how strong Galatae was. And for that goal, she intended to stop at nothing to capture this essential island.

[Kuro]

At first, no one noticed that the spotlights had stopped; the men manning the watchtowers and thus, the turrets, had been alone in their station. The arrows, fired with the greatest accuracy, had felled the watchmen almost instantly and quietly, piercing through the unprotected points of their apparel. It was when the sound of a horrible, bloodthirsty roar sounded out through the air that the soldiers began to stir.

It took several moments of confusion before people went to see why the spotlights were not fixing their attention onto the direction the noise had come from, but when they did, the alarm was sounded instantly. A loud, droning sound began to grow higher and higher in volume, loud enough for everyone to hear as it attempted to counter the warcry. With much yelling and running, Arkadians manned the watchtowers once more and the two on the ends of the gate fixed their light onto the charging invaders. They could not see all of the massive force at once, only seeing traces of thousands of others behind the ones in the spotlights. The turrets, very large guns with long barrels, were aimed at the front of the invasion.

"Fire!"

The guns fired with loud, dull thuds with some seconds pause between each shot as the turrets alternated their fire. They were like fast cannons, for what they fired exploded in bursts of fire, smoke, shrapnel, and the snow on the ground when it hit. The explosions weren't huge but were intended to take out large groups of enemies as the watchmen fired into the crowd. They were not aiming at anything in particular, firing at the front first and then shooting at various parts of the army coming towards them, especially aiming for crowded areas so as to hit as many people as possible at once.

Since the entire invading force was coming towards the gate, the other two turrets could not be used. When the Galataens got close to the gate, the machines atop the walls fell and hit the ground with their feet, creating loud clanks and thuds as they came. They dropped many meters away from the sides of the force rather than in front of it and pointed their miniguns at the enemies. The high-pitched scream and whir the gun made as it spun sounded as if it was coming from the pseudo-mouth of the things, their faces even looking as if they were making such horrible shrieks. About six came in total and their rapid fire of hundreds of bullets per second for each would turn into thousands and thousands of bullets per minute of not stopped soon enough. Rather than shoot at the head of the force, they attempted to mow down the plain infantry, their storm of bullets able to rip platoons and squads into shreds if such victims were not armored enough. Their armor, while sturdy, was little better than the average iron armor. If anyone dared to bypass their rapid fire, then they could easily be destroyed.

Rather than that, no other forces were deployed against the invaders yet. The soldiers atop the walls left the work to the watchmen and machines and walked to the ground floor, almost lazily. They were trained fighters and killers, and they doubted that any savage could best them. If anything, they would most likely be stranded trying to break the gate and would die there like the rats they were. No one expected a real fight; they predicted to be a nuisance and nothing more. The businessmen and researchers watched from their tower with mild curiosity and piqued interest, thinking the same as the soldiers. Hopefully, they thought to themselves, they could capture some of the Galataen specimens and look at them later. Maybe send them to Lust...yes, that would do quite nicely.

What the Arkadians did not care to notice was that the front of the Galataen force would have reached the gate in little time, a little before when the machines dropped down to the ground. They doubted that the savages could break through, so they paid little attention to the front of the force, paying more attention to the center and back.

---

In the top floor of the building was one man in a chair, watching over everything. From his view, he could see everything; if it had not been night, he might have been able to see the entirety of the Galataen force rather than those shown in the limited vision of the spotlights. As it was, they looked like ants to him, a swarm of ants to be precise. Those behind the walls looked no different as little more than a thousand Arkadians scattered about like confused insects.

He sighed and stroked his long, white beard, which flowed onto his crisp, black suit and deep-purple tie. He was old, very old, and it showed. He was almost a skeleton, his head and face covered by long, scraggly white hair. His face, shadowed in the near-total darkness of the room, looked like a skull with the thin, wrinkly skin peeled over it. The entire floor was one space and were it not for the one light coming from underneath his finely made, black chair of steel, the man would not have been able to see anything.

He looked at the ants with the stern, judging eyes of a cold father.

[Kyubey]

The guns proved effective, as Arkadian bullets effortlessly killed many good troops, but the small number of these weapons did little to deter the Galatean forces, whose numbers were still a great many. Neither explosions, bullets, or the agonized screams of those soldiers who were not fortunate enough to have a quick death from either slowed down the greater bulk of the army, which progressed as it always did. How could these knights slow down, when the consequences of weakness were sure to be far worse than a noble death? Worse than the turrets or guns, however, were the spotlights, which did manage to temporarily blind many unwary men who were not prepared for having such brightness obscuring their vision. Still, even the ones who, for the moment, could not see still pressed on, recklessly being carried by their own adrenaline.

"Protect the Princess!" shouted Gotz as he charged ahead, his voice booming above everything else. "Get her to the gate with your life if you have to!"

Though he said this with utmost bravery, his unit was taking damages, as a result of being placed in front. Helping them out somewhat, however, was their heavy armor, far thicker than the light stuff the majority of units were wearing, and their horsemanship, which saved a number of them as they rode around the bursts of gunfire. And though quite a few of them did die, this only seemed to encourage the survivors even further.

Following his orders, there was a large collection of soldiers around Princess Elvia, as if they were trying to create a shield with their bodies. The actual shields many of them held also helped somewhat. In this fashion, Elvia managed to get closer and closer to her goal, as she sped with no restraint towards the gates. Though she was still young, and unused to the reality of battle, one would not have been able to tell that from the way she charged onward. The death and carnage being inflicted upon her own countrymen only seemed to excite her. Behind her helmet and the cloth that masked half her face, she was grinning madly.

The Arkadian men who replaced the soldiers operating the turrets would not have been able to fire off many shots, however, as they were at severe risk of meeting the same fate as those who occupied those spots before them. Salvius and his archer unit, unlike the others, had not charged at the gates, but had stayed where they were, safe and far from the action ahead. Once the figures of people reappeared at the turrets and spotlights, they would have been greeted by another volley of arrows. As long as soldiers kept manning the walls, this cycle would continue.

"Yes, that's right," said Salvius as he notched another arrow into his bow. "Keep on lining up for me, little quail."

As Elvia got closer to the tower, she began giggling with amusement. Finally, she was about to prover herself as a true warrior and a leader.

"Spread out!" she screeched to all the remaining infantry soldiers. "Make room for me!" She leapt down from her horse, and ran the rest of the way to the gate on foot, with a couple of cavalry soldiers charging on either side of her, to block oncoming bullets.

"You heard her, men! Make way for her Highness!"

With that, the army began to part right down the middle, providing a somewhat safe path for Elvia just as the machines began to fall down from the wall. With lack of any other sort of threat to face on the ground, the warriors close enough to these machines converged upon their new foes, intending to tear the metal apart. However, nothing they had could compare to the miniguns, and scores of infantrymen and cavalry alike were lost to their bullets. Metal tore through armor, flesh, and bone, and elite knights were slain before they could even score a single kill for themselves. The troops still kept running at the machines, though, and for each man that died there were plenty more right behind, each one aiming desperately to get close enough to land in a good blow. For how many soldiers there were, against so few machines, at least some of them were bound to succeed. At least, the large amounts of crossbow bolts and javelins that were being thrown at them probably would.

---

Gotz van Hallstatt, upon seeing these metallic engines of death, aimed his lance directly at the one closest to him. Though he was but a single man, with a primitive weapon by Arkadian standards, he was still a seasoned fighter, not one to be taken down easily. Not even guns could scare him.

"Forgive me..."

He kicked his horse to a full gallop, and sped towards the robot. As soon as the miniguns became an immediate danger to him, he suddenly reigned the horse to a full stop, jumping upwards at the same time, causing the force of the complete halt to send him flying through the air, above the bullets and right at the machine. His horse would have been killed almost instantly, but now he was close enough to strike.

"For the Acis Kingdom!" Gotz roared as he thrust his lance at the machine, with enough pure force to pierce through almost anything.

---

"Hey! Those're new!"

Antal Laverna, running forth with his fellows in the infantry, was quite taken back by the appearance of the machines. Nothing he had seen in his eighteen years could quite have prepared him for seeing something like those, as in his experience the only things that moved on their own were things that were alive. It was fortunate for him that he was a comparatively quick thinker in troublesome situations.

"Well... if they can move they can die, right?"

He took off in a run towards one of the machines, not forward as many of his ill-fated comrades had done, but circling around it, showing off his impressive agility as he fired several crossbow shots at his target, in an attempt to circle close enough to hack at the thing with his saber.

---

As her followers fought and died behind her, Elvia only had eyes for the gate ahead. In a burst of energy, she charged shoulder-first, preparing to directly ram her whole body into the giant gate that stood before her.

"Mass Mass... Eilliu!" she called out as she made contact. The instant she hit the gate, something very strange would have happened, as a direct result of her Devil Fruit ability. The strong, sturdy gate would have suddenly become far lighter and weaker, and though from the outside it seemed to be the same as ever, when met with force it would have seemed to have the weight and consistency of something built out of paper and leaves, rather than steel. Still forcing her way ahead, she attempted to use her whole body to either force the now much weaker gate from its hinges, or to just knock it down entirely. Even if she did succeed, the gate would have taken a few seconds to bring down fully, as she couldn't do anything about its size, and therefore would have taken longer to shove down than her impatient mind might have liked, but her manipulation of mass and consistency would have served her well here.

---

Away from gates, farther along than where the Galatean army fought, a solitary man waited alone, a bit away from another one of the walls surrounding Sector 10. If it wasn't for the yelling, the alarm, and later the gunshots, he wouldn't have been able to know when the war began at all. But begin it did, just where and when he knew it would. He smiled to himself. Claudia was so predictable. He was crouched down low, hidden by both snow and darkness, buffeted by the cold winds but unaffected nevertheless. He stared intensely at the wall ahead of him, watching from behind his favorite bucket hat, which seemed to be covering his eyes. He was waiting for the perfect moment, the part where all the people behind the walls were too occupied with the invading army to see one extra man coming their way. Silently, he watched out for his opportune time.

[Kuro]

Gotz's lance drove straight through the machine, destroying its chest in a mess of metal. Although gears flew out of the machine as it fell to the snow from the force of the thrust, what Gotz probably noticed first was the scalding hot steam that shot out from the wound, most likely hitting his face to whatever effect. The guns, which were unable to hit Gotz due to him being directly in front of the machine and thus between its stiff, forward-facing arms, fired some bullets more before they began to slow down to a stop due to the havoc done to its inner workings. The smoke coming from the pipes on its back began to stop as well, eventually ceasing.

The machine that Antal had gone after paid no attention to him, focused instead on slaughtering the masses of enemies in front of it. The crossbow bolts did little against its metal body, denting it or slightly piercing it at the most, but the saber did considerably more damage. With enough force put behind it, the sword was able to cut through the robot's body and reduce it to pieces. Every time it was cut apart though, burning steam shot out with a hiss. The robot attempted to spin its upper half around so as to shoot at its attacker, but it was slow and of no success. The robot was felled soon enough.

The other machines were able to last longer against their foes, but were eventually felled, although they certainly took scores more of Galataens with them. The crossbow bolts did nothing, but the javelins, when thrown with enough force, were able to pierce them and interfere with the gears and pipes inside. Steam shot out of any wounds that were inflicted upon them, harming anyone who had managed to get close enough, and like the one Gotz had destroyed, their guns either stopped or slowed to a halt along with the smoke.


Silence fell over the base when the gate suddenly looked as if it would fall apart. All heads turned to it, watching as the Galataens did...something to it.

The man in the top floor watched with a piqued curiosity.

With an explosion of noise, the gate was forced down and the savages started pouring in.

The Arkadian soldiers panicked, firing their automatic rifles at the forces in front of them in a hopeless attempt to ward off the horde. While their weapons were top-notch, their armor was nothing spectacular. Those nearest the gate were cut down easily enough by any who managed to reach them, especially since unlike the machines, the soldiers had to reload their guns. Another way in which they were not like the machines was that they did not burst out steam when they were hit, unless the black packs on their backs were pierced or cut open, in which case so much steam came out that the Arkadians were propelled by it.

Some of the Arkadians decided to retreat rather than face the threat full-on, but they did not simply run away. After firing a few bullets, they turned and ran a few steps before turning a valve on their chest. When this happened, a seemingly impossible amount of steam shot out from the bottoms of the black-packs on their backs, the packs that all of the tubes and pipes on their armor connected to. The sudden burst of it made the black pack act like a jetpack, safely propelling their soldiers through the air. The flights didn't last very long, but they let the soldiers cross long distances in a very short amount of time.

It was now that the base truly became alive. The gates had surrounded a multitude of buildings and roads, not just one place. There were not as many Arkadians in the complex as there were Galataens, but this meant little to them.

This was not a town or a settlement that the invaders were attacking. This was a military base full of technology more advanced than anything the Galataens had ever seen.

Tanks began to roll out of the buildings, four in total at the moment. With the exception of one tank that had been stored near the gate, the other three were a considerable distance away. They fired at the invaders, having much of the same effect as the turrets had with their explosions; the turrets were unable to help as they could not be turned towards what was behind the gates, so while some Arkadians stayed on the walls to have higher ground than the The tanks preferred to try and keep as much distance away from the savages as possible. They each had two cannons, but only the one that fired the explosive shells were used.

Like the tanks, the Arkadian infantry tried to stay as far away as possible, using their jetpacks to get onto rooftops or behind cover as they fired rapidly at the Galataens. They knew that they could be cut down easily by such massive numbers if they did not play it careful, although they still had the utmost pride in their cannons and tanks.

---

The man in the top floor sighed at the sight below him and shook his head. One side was an unthinking horde while the other scurried around in a panic. Disappointing. It was doubtful that the Galataens could overrun the entire complex, but minimal property damage was desired. It was a shame. He thought that maybe he might have been able to just watch.

He stood up, trembling as he did so in his old age, and gripped an arm of the chair. He coughed and spoke to either no one in particular or someone hidden in the darkness.

"Prepare the suit."

[Kyubey]

Gotz grunted softly as he yanked his mighty lance out from the felled machine. The steam clouded his vision, but his helmet protected him from most of the adverse effects. It did inevitably become suddenly very hot under his armor, with the scalding steam hitting it directly, but whatever effect he felt, he endured it. Recognizing the machine as no longer a threat, with all other machines having suffered a similar fate, he calmly looked to the now open entrance of the gate to Sector 10.

"Somebody, fetch me a new horse."

---

Elvia stood proud of her own accomplishment, as the gate toppled down before her. Without very much opposition at all, both she and the army behind her were now free to enter and fight the Arkadians directly. Standing with the entrance to her enemy's domain spread before her, the Princess of Galatae felt truly unbeatable. Any technology, any armor, was powerless before her, and she knew it. Finally, she had become a worthy warrior, and more than that, a conqueror.

"Can you see, Mother?" she screamed to the winds. "Look at this! Look at me!"

"Advance!" Gotz ordered above the rest of the noise, now atop a new horse he had gained from a slain cavalry soldier. "Teach them to fear us and our homeland!"

Around Elvia, Galatean soldiers began pouring into the walls, where they fought ferociously with the Arkadians and their guns. No matter how many bullets the enemy units had, the Galatean army did not seem to care. Now that there was a tangible enemy within their reach, a bloodthirsty rage washed over the whole of the savage forces, as they charged through the bullets and cut into their opponents. Any fleeing Arkadians were met with no mercy, as they were chased down viciously for as long as possible, and those who did manage to reach the air became the immediate targets of crossbow bolts. If the Arkadian jetpacks happened to fly above their wall, they would be met with arrows from Salvius' unit as well. On the ground, the Galatean soldiers were a truly fearsome force, as brave and ruthless as they were powerful. In open melee combat, their lack of technology or advanced weaponry meant little, in comparison to their pure skill and might.

Tanks, however, were completely different. As soon as the huge machines began firing, scores of men were blown apart at once, for truly, what did simple footsoldiers have against these terrible tools of war? Many more men were lost now, the number of soldiers on the battlefield meaning little when they were so outmatched by these new armored war machines. Almost all the Galateans were completely helpless, unable to do more than scratch the surface of the tanks.

Almost.

The fact that one of the tanks was placed so close to the gate only made it that much easier for Elvia to approach it on foot. Running alongside the crowd of armored units around her, she swifty approached the tank, while throwing off the gauntlet that covered her right hand.

"Mass Mass Mountain Breaker!"

With her bare hand, she threw a punch at the tank. If her punch landed successfully, the surface of the tank where she hit it would shatter, as though it were made of glass. The other soldiers backed away, confident in their Princess to defeat that one machine at the very least.

---

As the gates opened up for her, Claudia still remained as stoic as before. The only outward movement she made was a signal for her unit to advance. She rode into the battlefront, eyes cast straight ahead.

"So," remarked Alaric as he rode slightly behind her, "It appears as though our dear princess is every bit as capable as you expected her to be."

"Of course she is, you complete fool. If she wasn't, I wouldn't have brought her out here."

"You must give her some credit. If it wasn't for her powers, we wouldn't be able to get through that outer wall so fast. That is impressive."

"Is it? Even with her power, getting so far was much too easy, I think. This is hardly a war at all."

"Yes... I am troubled by the lack of resistance we've seen so far."

"I'm not." She turned away from Alaric, facing the bulk of her army. "Keep moving forward! Leave not a one of them alive! Show no weakness!"

Just as when the gate fell, there was no sign of reaction on Claudia's steely face as her men were being blown away by state-of-the-art weaponry. Rather than be shocked or horrified at what was happening to her people, or afraid that she could soon meet the same fate, if anything, she was annoyed. Annoyed that once again, some weapon prevented her soldiers from the flesh-and-blood man-against-man battle they deserved. She wanted a head-on fight. The last thing she intended to do was spend the whole war simply peeling back the layers until she could reach her opponent.

"Walls. Gates. Tanks. Masks. How many of these things must I tear through before I can fight you directly, Arkady Industries?"

She rode directly to the front line, past Elvia, until there was a straight path between her and the three enemy tanks. The Queen of Acis had entered the fray herself.

"Alaric! Take charge for one moment! Sir Hallstatt! Follow me! We're moving forward!"

"Understood, Your Majesty."

"My pleasure, Queen Claudia!"

With great speed, Claudia kicked her horse to a gallop, headed straight for the three tanks further away. Behind her was Sir Gotz, moving a little slower but with the same amount of determination. They moved in irregular, zig-zagging motions, to make it hard for the tanks to take aim at either one of them. Though they were but two fighters on horses, one with a sword, the other holding a lance, these weapons of theirs were among the finest in the kingdom, sturdy enough to withstand any combat, and their wielders were powerful, strong and fierce enough to not yield to anything. Not even steel could stand against them for long.

Behind her, Alaric took over the command, as his Queen fought the tanks directly. His horse made him stand above the common footsoldiers, making him feel all the more in control, though all the noise forced him to shout, something he normally didn't like doing.

"Spread out! Do not make yourself a target! Hold out until the path is clear!"

Antal was not the sort of warrior to waste energy with unneeded strikes, so only a few blows from his saber were spent on the machine, as he cut it apart with relative ease.

---

"That, I think, was perhaps a little too... Augh! What is that?"

Unlike Gotz, Antal was not helmeted, so he was momentarily hurt by the blast of steam. Crying out with pain, he quickly covered his face with his arm, and turned away, staggering back from the robotic weapon.

"Ugh... that was painful."

The initial blast of steam was intense, but fortunately for him, the cold air helped to ease the pain, just a little. As he lowered his arm, he saw many of his fellow infantry soldiers, looking at him with amazement, in awe of his feat. Having lost many soldiers to the fearsome devices, Antal became something of a hero to the common fighters in the immediate area, for being able to strike one down himself. He smiled at them weakly, unsure of what to do about all this new attention he was getting. His thoughts didn't linger on them long, however, as he quickly noticed the four tanks firing at the soldiers who had passed through the open gate. His eyes were wise as he gazed at the seemingly unstoppable machines. He could never have even imagined something like that.

"Incredible. I want one. You! Men! Guys! This is no time for standing behind the gate! Let's claim one of those in the name of our island!"

A cheer came from the crowd that had not yet passed the walls, and Antal now found himself with a small unit of men, fifteen perhaps in total, willing to follow him. With these soldiers behind him, Antal cast his eye at one of the remaining tanks, and began to run towards it, making sure to stay out of the way of the vehicle's gun barrel. Even if the soldiers around him were blasted away by the tank, they were so spread out that not all of them could possibly have been killed in one blast. Unless the tanks had some sort of secondary weapon, Antal, at the very least, would have reached the tank, at which point he would have climbed directly onto it and searched for a weak point of some kind.

---

Back at the far wall, the solitary man waited no longer. As the loud clanging that was the gate falling to the ground boomed through the air, he knew he wouldn't have so good a chance. He broke into a sprint, running straight at the massive wall, seemingly intending to scale it. In the darkness, cloaked by snowfall, he would be very hard to see moving at his speed, and he would have reached the wall in a matter of seconds.

[Kuro]

The Arkadians were falling quickly. Crossbow bolts killed those that flew and the horde killed those on the ground. The sight of the tanks tearing the savages apart boosted their moral, but they were brought back to harsh reality when one of the tanks suddenly shattered. It's surface had been reduced to nothing, showing the framework and people inside. All from one blow. The poor soldiers in that tank hurriedly snapped their pistols into place to shoot at the enemy around them, but to little avail.

Another tank had its own problems; each of the vehicles had a second cannon, but under orders they dared not use them. Instead, when anyone such as Antal climbed up onto the tank, the hatch on top popped open and an Arkadian came out like a jack-in-the-box. A pistol was already in its hands and it fired multiple times at the intruder, the one who couldn't have been more than a few feet away from him. Any Galataens who were close to the tanks but not on top of them would have to be careful, as the tanks moved around haphazardly in their attempts to run them over.

One of the tanks attempted to blast the two on horseback, only for them to dodge the explosions. It was not long until that tank was somehow cut up into pieces. The strength of the Galataens was nightmarish. They filled the Arkadians with fear. It was as if they were fighting superhumans. Monsters. Thankfully, Arkady Industries had monsters of its own.

As time went on, more and more machinery emerged. From the various buildings of the base, tanks and robots came forth, heading towards the most concentrated group of enemies and shooting down all in their path. Gatling guns screamed into the night, shredding those who had come into their eyeless sight. Although the Galataens might have learned to move around more to avoid the cannonfire, the number of explosions at any moment on the battlefield was becoming higher by the minute. The tanks were at least thirteen in number now and the base showed no sign of revealing more. The robots were even more in number, now making up a large part of the infantry, and showing no mercy. For every destroyed machine, two would take its place. One might see no end to the incoming waves, to the endless reinforcements.

And in the midst of it all, a blue light glowed high in the night sky.

Above the cacophony of war was a new sound, a scream louder than any other that came with a beam of blinding light. It shone like a heavenly pillar in the near-darkness, as wide as one of the many tanks on the snow. It had been fired into a high concentration of rushing Galataens, who were vaporized instantly. Still screaming, the beam moved forwards, still a vertical pillar of light that moved through the snow at a quick rate, destroying all in its path.

This lasted for ten seconds. A short time, but it had left nothing in its wake. No bodies, no signs of a struggle. Just a hole in the ground that went down several meters, creating a trench of sorts in the battlefield. The sound of something falling could be heard.

Galataens and Arkadians alike were crushed by the machine that fell on them without warning. It was made of a smooth, black metal that gleamed and when it rose, it stood almost three meters tall and towered over all. It's crimson V visor shone in the darkness, hiding its face with the black, full-face helmet. The armor was angular and sharp, several ends jutting out like spikes. Not a inch of skin was shown.

It's left arm was more that of an arm-sized gun, a cannon instead of a hand. Blue lights shone from the contraption, its segmented parts peeling back like layers to quickly expose the inner workings to release geysers of steam.

The other arm had a gauntlet that held a massive blade as long and wide as himself. It seemed a mismatch for the slender and sleek build of the machine, but it had no trouble moving it around in its one hand. Gears spun and machinery worked inside the suit of armor, giving its user more power than he could ever hope to wield through normal training and exercise.

On it's back was a large, black box that looked like a backpack of some sort. It was very similar to those on the backs of the Arkadians, but this was bigger and cleaner. No pipes stuck out of it, for it connected directly into the back it was on. There were holes on the bottom, though. And from them, jets of steam now spewed forth.

The suit of armor propelled itself towards the heart of the Galataen force, swinging its giant weapon as quickly and smoothly as if it was a dagger. And yet, its speed was nothing compared to the strength with which it was swung; as fast as it was, its cutting power was tremendous.

The Arkadians continued to fire from as far away as possible, relying on their tanks, robots, and mechanical savior to kill for them.