Last Shine

Shallow Water, previous battlefield Zone.

At their core, ship girls fight using their rigging.

Whether they're Kan-sen or Kan-musu, a ship girl's battle is a display of naval warfare drawn from the warships they're based on—integrated into their rigging. Each class fights differently, reflecting their origins.

Carrier Type: Masters of aerial combat. Their rigging includes flight decks, launch gear, radar, and hovering squadrons. They unleash waves of fighters, dive bombers, and torpedo bombers to strike from afar.

Destroyer Type: Fast and evasive. Equipped with light guns, torpedo tubes, and speed-boosting propulsion, they excel at hit-and-run tactics and laying smokescreens amid chaos.

Submarine Type: Silent hunters. With minimalist rigging—torpedo tubes, sonar, and diving gear—they strike from below, then vanish before retaliation hits. Paper armor, even compared to destroyer type.

Battleship Type: Heavily armed and armored. Their rigging boasts massive guns and thick plating, ideal for long-range barrages and explosive salvo attacks. Very tanky and could take some hit.

Most of time it's their main and secondary weapons that speak the loudest—the thunder of massive turrets, the scream of bomb-laden aircraft, the sharp crack of anti-air guns, and the hiss of torpedoes cutting through the waves.

These sounds define their battles at sea.

They angle their cannons with precision, maneuver through the chaos, drift with their anchors, and work tirelessly to keep fire and damage from spreading.

From destroyers to carriers, every classification brings its own style, its own rhythm.

However, now that they're warships reborn in human form—with sentience, emotion, and the consciousness of living beings—the way they wield their weapons no longer follows rigid protocol.

Their combat isn't just strategy and execution anymore. It's instinct. Will and emotion.

Some of it reflects who they are—not just what they were built to be.

Their personalities, their pride, their scars.

Legacies etched into the very names of the warships they once were.

Some charge in headfirst, ramming the enemy with reckless fury, their hearts burning hotter than their engines. Others move with cold precision, weaving offense and defense like a deadly dance—every shot placed, every step measured.

Their fighting styles had evolved—shaped by the bodies they now inhabited and the hearts that drove them forward. Like their rigging, these techniques were just another form of adaptation, born from the will of ship girls who refused to sink.

A mecha exosuit.

A weaponized jetpack.

A floating weapon system.

A spiritual/technological projection of their original ship.

Or all of those above.

It's a memory written in their Widom Cube.

It's nothing unusual at all.

"This name shall be carried into the future—remembered as glory for the Rising Sun," Ichigo declared. Her voice was calm—eerily so. A sharp contrast to the fierce glint in her eyes.

Gentle ripples spread across the ocean's surface, as if her resolve had stirred the very sea itself. The water shimmered faintly as the wave reached the other ship girls, lapping at their feet.

It was morning—the sea glowed under the golden touch of the rising sun.

"Go on." 「Ichigo」

"A buff skill? Thanks, I'll take it," Hornet quipped with a grin—before she quickly wiped the smile away. Her stance shifted. Eyes narrowed. Fingers pulled the bowstring taut, locking onto her target above.

Exhaling steadily, she whispered her calling, "Fhuuh, resist check," and with that breath, loosed a flurry of radiant arrows skyward, all aimed at the figure floating far above.

Each arrow shimmered with status effects—classic Hornet style. Slow. Paralysis. Blindness. She wasn't aiming to wound—but to test him. Testing his body. Testing that floating chariot he sat on like a smug, untouchable king.

And once her arrow left the string, she shifted seamlessly into her true role—a ship girl at war.

"Followed by... my Doolittle Airstrike." 「Hornet」

Her stance tightened. One foot slid back, kicking up a ripple across the water behind her.

With a sharp inhale, she twisted her torso and raised her bow high.

The rigging on her back responded instantly, syncing with her movement like an extension of her will. Energy surged along the string as her fingers drew it back, steady and focused.

"Go fly—and hit high!" 「Hornet」

Her aircraft launched in formation as they soared into the sky.

They spun and twirled through the air, before breaking off toward their first and final mission.

Some of the aircraft opened fire with their onboard gatlings, peppering him with suppressive rounds. Others circled overhead before diving and dropping their payloads right on top of Yulijer.

They did exactly what fighters and dive bombers were meant to do—racing toward the target with purpose, even in the face of death. One by one, they were shot out of the sky, torn apart mid-flight.

They had no pilots. No lives inside.

And yet, as she watched them fall—cut down effortlessly by dozens of sword-like projectiles—Hornet couldn't help but feel a sharp wave of frustration tighten in her chest.

"Heh," Yulijer smirked.

As the smoke thinned and firelight danced in the air, one thing became clear.

None of it had even scratched him. It only amused him.

The man known as Yulijer remained lounging on his floating throne, calm and untouched, as if everything unfolding below was just a performance for his own entertainment.

"Whoa—whoa! What's with all the glares?!" Yulijer barked, lips curled into a half-smirk, half-snarl. "You're acting like you really want me dead, but I swear—I have no idea why you're all so worked up."

He just sat there—one hand resting against his cheek, the other swirling a glass of wine.

That same smug expression never left his face as he looked down on them, calm and untouchable. Surrounding him, golden ripples shimmered in the air, conjuring an array of radiant shields—each one summoned directly from the Gate of Babylon.

The strength of those shields could withstand the blast of bomb payloads and medium-caliber gunfire—perhaps even more. No one knew the full extent of his power.

But one thing was certain: within those golden ripples, countless weapons lay in wait, ready to be unleashed at his command. It was a new sight for the girls—unfamiliar, yes, but not entirely unexpected.

"As you guys can see, that's the result," Hornet muttered, lowering her bow.

"That much is enough. Thank you, Hornet," Ichigo replied calmly, though her eyes never left their target. "Now that we've completed the test run… the rest is up to you. Ship girls, handle it however you like."

They had known that facing him would be like storming a fortress—a stronghold armed with countless ballistae, cloaked in golden radiance, and wrapped in invisible walls thick enough to blunt even the fiercest salvos.

But to think those shields were this strong and those ballistae are so many.

And another problem became clear now: the white-haired young man could fly.

An aerial battle was inevitable.

Worse still, there was no telling what other abilities he had yet to reveal—any one of them could turn the tide in an instant. For all they knew, a weapon of mass destruction might already be waiting, locked and loaded within the depths of his Gate of Babylon.

That bizarre, drill-like black sword—some of them remembered that young man had used it before.

Perhaps that's why...Yulijer still looked completely unbothered by them.

"Hahh… despite how I come in peace." ☆Yulijer☆

Mocking. Taunting.

Like this was all just entertainment to him.

"Ah, I get it. You're mad because you showed up late to my party, huh? Figures. Why didn't you bitches just say so?" Yulijer laughed—loud, kingly, and cruel—as he hovered above them like a god humoring ants.

This time, he made an effort to draw closer. Hovering just above the sea, yet not so high as to vanish into the clouds, as if offering some twisted form of kindness through their distance.

He intended to take the ship girls back with him—to return together to the Academy.

Because by now, they should've understood what had happened here. The wreckage, the bodies of their comrades—some floating, others sunk beneath the waves—left no room for doubt.

Their fight was over.

And they had lost.

Even with dozens of them, they couldn't bring him down. And now they thought they could win with just six? What a joke. Resistance was meaningless now. Better to surrender… and offer themselves if they wanted to survive.

Once they accepted his offer, he would take them by the neck and gather them in one place. Bind their arms and legs. Keep them comfortable—safe—in the warmth of his affection.

As any generous man would.

After all, wasn't it only natural for the victor to treat his captives well?

With a lazy sip from his wine glass, he tossed it aside, letting it shatter into the sea below. Then, like a noble addressing the unworthy, he extended his hand toward them—an open invitation wrapped in mockery.

"Go on, hop on! I'll even let you be my slaves—generous, right?" ☆Yulijer☆

But when the radiant, white-haired young man looked down—he was met with silence. Not a single word. The ship girls didn't dignify his trash talk. Because in the end, these ship girls hadn't come to trade insults.

They weren't here for his games.

In their quiet judgment, the path was clear: either cast him down, or make it to the academy where their Final Mission would begin. And judging by the way their weapons turned toward him—they had already chosen the first option.

They would fight.

Though… there's still one thing they needed to know.

"Too much talking… filthy lowborn," Deutschland muttered coldly, her eyes narrowing beneath the shadow of her bangs. "You act kingly like it means something, yet all I see is nothing but a false pretender."

"Wait! Don't antagonize him yet! Patience! Patience! I'm still curious about one thing," Hornet hissed, then coughed. "Uhm... where is the Commander right now, anyway? I mean, sure... we got defeated but... did you kill our Commander?"

She straightened slightly and tilted her head, speaking with a casual tone. There's no tremble in her voice, no emotion in her eyes. Just that same effortless calm—as if she were asking about the weather.

"Ahh... so that's it. You girls actually care about that idiot, huh?" Yulijer scoffed, voice thick with disdain. "Beautiful, charming, strong women like you… and you waste it all pining for some ordinary man? I'll never understand it."

"Ahaha~ yeah, well… sometimes our Commander can be a little dense," Hornet admitted with a casual shrug, flashing a wry smile. "But hey, we'd be super grateful if you told us he's still alive. Not that we're accepting your offer or anything. Just saying—a little info wouldn't hurt."

At that statement, all the ship girls gave a small nod—whether in agreement with Hornet's jab at their infamously dense Commander, or as a quiet signal to shift tactics. When Plan A fails, there's always Plan B… then C, D, and beyond.

They had already decided to change their approach. Words weren't much necessary for their current self. A single glance, a subtle movement—enough to speak volumes. They understood each other perfectly.

All thanks to their times and times of fighting together in that Island.

Besides, Hornet's little exchange could easily be seen as both a stalling tactic and a way to draw out more information from Yulijer—especially about their missing Commander.

If it worked, it could turn the tide in their favor. Because deep down, they knew—their Commander wouldn't go down that easily. That is of course… if the plan this time actually worked.

"Hah! What could you possibly like about that liar?" Yulijer spat, his grin widening. "Even if he's still alive, it'll be you Ship Girls who end up killing him. Ah—right! You must've missed the news, huh? Here, let me catch you up."

With a flick of his wrist, the Gate of Babylon opened once more, and a stack of papers burst forth, scattering like leaves in the wind as he tossed them down toward the girls.

Execution approval forms.

Official documents—stamped and signed by high-ranking officials across the factions—authorizing the termination of the Commander. Each page bore the same cold verdict.

The same betrayal.

These forms were one of Yulijer's tools. Weapons without bullets. He had used them to strip the Commander of power, to sever his ties to the Ship Girls… to break his wings and turn the world against him.

"Approval form?" Deutschland muttered, flipping through the pages with a sharp glare. "Why is my name as his Master not on here? How dare they!"

"Report: These documents are authentic," Gascogne stated calmly. "Verification complete."

Ichigo said nothing. She just stared at the contents of the form—her gaze fixed.

"He's a liar. A killer. A traitor," Yulijer continued, his tone oozing with smug certainty. "He corrupted the system and sacrificed countless ship girls in his twisted schemes. After his defeat, he was arrested and is now being held in the Academy."

Not only that, Yulijer casually tossed out another set of documents.

This time, a report detailing how the battle in this area had supposedly unfolded. Unfortunately, every line was written as if their Commander had been the one responsible for the disaster… painting him as the villain.

The summary of it is the same as well.

It accused him of deploying weapons of mass destruction, conducting unauthorized experiments, and even seizing chain-of-command authority during a conflict in friendly waters—without proper clearance.

The report even claimed that it was their Commander who caused the widespread devastation now beneath their feet—pinning the destruction of this entire region on his decisions.

To pay for his mistake, his life will be taken.

"Hakuryuu, you're not curious about this?" Yamashiro asked, flipping through the papers.

"I'm not interested in reading," Hakuryuu replied, her eyes never leaving Yulijer. One hand still rested on the hilt of her sword, her stance calm—but ready.

Everything in the report felt one-sided—tailored to support Yulijer, while condemning their Commander. As the saying goes… history is written by the victor.

And yet, Hornet just simply exhaled. A small smile tugging at the corner of her lips. "Still… it's a relief to know he's alive. This just makes one thing clear—we need to reach the Academy."

"...Huh, well whatever," Yulijer said coldly. "According to that paper, his fate is sealed anyway. And after spending a week under my care in prison…" He leaned forward slightly, voice dripping venom, "...do you really think he's still in one piece?"

"…W-What… did you do to Milord…" Yamashiro whispered, her voice trembling. "What have you done!? If you even touch his hair—"

"Now that's more like it. I've done plenty—if you bitches really want to know," Yulijer said with a smirk. "But the point is! Unlike that pathetic Commander, I can treat all of you better. SO come here and take my hands, my dear bitches."

He let the words hang in the air like poison, his hand extended once more—eyes glowing with a twisted mockery of affection. The kind a tyrant offers to the broken. The kind a king offers his obedient flock.

But no matter how high he sat, no matter what crown he claimed…

Even real kings should know—there are some things you simply do not say.

Among all the cruel, self-righteous filth that had spilled from his mouth—

"I'll love you better than him, compared to that scum of a man." ☆Yulijer☆

The air shifted.

—He shouldn't have said that

"Nah… you could never," Hornet said flatly, her smile vanishing.

Pressure—thick and unmistakable—pressed down on the battlefield. Emotions surged—rage, grief, sorrow—all radiating from the ship girls, thick enough for Yulijer to feel from above.

That one line had crossed a boundary too far.

Hornet stepped forward, fists clenched upward, gaze locked on the false king. Her voice rang with cold finality, "You could never be someone like our commander... not even in thousand year, you smug bastard."

And in that instant, whatever coordinated plan they had... needed just a bit of adjustment.

CLANG

"—What the?!" Yulijer recoiled, startled for the first time.

"—What the?!" Hornet blurted out as well. "Wait, that wasn't part of the plan!"

Out of nowhere, a spinning hunk of steel filled his vision—an aircraft, torn from its rig and hurled like a boomerang straight at his face. Yamashiro didn't hesitate. Even though it was never meant to be used that way, she threw it without a second thought.

Because Yulijer hadn't just threatened them.

He had insulted their Commander.

And for that… he had to pay.

BOOM

"MILORD IS MILLION TIMES BETTER THAN YOU!!!" Yamashiro shouted.

"…Yamashiro," Ichigo said, blinking. "That was a plane."

"I-I'm… my apologies! B-But it's rightfully his fault!" Yamashiro's cheeks red with flustered defiance.

"Agh, whatever! Let's just do it already!" Hornet snapped, getting back into position.

The plane exploded just in front of Yulijer—shrapnel slicing past the edge of his floating throne, forcing him to flinch. The blast didn't break through his shields, but it was loud enough to cut through his arrogance, if only for a second.

"Resorting to tricks… then more tricks. How pathetic," he muttered, scowling.

With a surge of disdain, Yulijer ascended smoothly from the smoke, seated atop his floating throne like a god brushing off insects. The chariot ascended with ease, gliding through the air like it belonged there.

Then, with a flick of his wrist, golden ripples burst open behind him—the Gate of Babylon unleashed.

Countless projectiles shot downward like divine judgment, raining steel upon the battlefield. The blasts didn't just tear through the lingering smoke—they cleared it entirely, ripping away the veil that had once obscured his vision.

As the haze cleared, Yulijer's eyes narrowed—especially when a burst of piercing bullets hissed past the edge of his floating throne, close enough to make him flinch.

"Hmph… still fighting with that useless trash," he muttered darkly.

"And where do you think you're going? Don't think you can slip past me."

In that brief window, the ship girls had already repositioned—coordinated and ready to strike.

Yulijer's eyes locked onto Yamashiro and Gascogne as they sped across the ocean's surface, rigging fully deployed. Their turrets roared to life, cannons unleashing glowing streams of firepower—cutting through the air in defiance, returning fire against his barrage of unworldly steel.

"Armaments activated. Engaging at maximum output," Gascogne announced flatly.

"Useless!" ☆Yulijer☆

"Alright! Keep going!" Yamashiro shouted, rallying the momentum.

The air became chaos.

Streams of artillery fire crisscrossed the sky—waves of cannon blasts, golden mana projectiles, and glowing bullets colliding midair in a storm of tungsten, iron, and arcane energy.

A twisted danmaku of destruction—warship firepower against a rain of summoned swords.

Some projectiles veered harmlessly into the sky, while others were intercepted mid-flight or shattered on impact—splintering into sparks and debris before they could reach bullseye.

And yet, Yulijer remained untouched. His floating chariot weaved effortlessly through the chaos, drifting through the storm as if the fury of the world were no more than a passing breeze.

Even the few attacks that came close were deflected with ease—ricocheting off the ethereal shields that shimmered around him, summoned from the ever-pulsing golden ripples.

Armor-piercing, high-explosive—it didn't matter.

Nothing could touch a single strand of that man's hair.

But down below, Gascogne and Yamashiro pressed forward.

"Hah! Ahaha! This takes me back—just like Ramarak!" Yamashiro shouted, her grin wild, eyes locked onto the sky. "C'mon! You can do better than this, right?!"

"Positive," Gascogne replied flatly, already reloading mid-motion.

So far, not a single one of Yulijer's projectiles had landed a critical hit. Every blade of light, every shard of steel raining down was either dodged, deflected, or blasted apart midair. The two ship girls surged through the storm—barely a scratch between them.

They weren't just surviving.

They were advancing.

Their assault never stopped—even as they moved, their weapons kept firing, lighting up the sky.

"Cover fire." 「Gascogne」

Their barrage erupted again—harder, faster, louder.

Turrets roared, spewing a storm of glowing danmaku and searing shells skyward, hammering the heavens like a fleet declaring war on the sky itself. The ocean trembled with every recoil; heat trails and tracer arcs painted glowing scars across the air.

This wasn't just return fire—it was an all-out assault, a thunderous rejection of Yulijer's arrogance. And they weren't stopping. Not until their magazines were empty, or he was dragged down from his golden throne.

"I told you it's useless," Yulijer scoffed, brushing smoke off his shoulder. "But… where are the rest of you?"

His Gate of Babylon continued to rain fire on the two below, but his attention suddenly shifted. His eyes scanning the battlefield once more. And sure enough, he couldn't see the other three.

Hornet, Deutschland, and Hakuryuu had vanished from sight, though not from the battlefield.

Thanks to the earlier smokescreen and cover fire, Yulijer had lost track of them. But now—realizing they had vanished—he was on full alert. His senses sharpened, focusing on the crashing waves under his feet.

"From below, huh?!" Yulijer snapped, eyes narrowing as realization hit.

When he looked down, he finally spotted them—Deutschland and Hakuryuu—maneuvering just above the waves, closing in like guided blades across the sea. They weren't Destroyer-class, yet their speed was nothing short of staggering.

The sea itself parted beneath them, leaving thin lines in their trail.

What's more, neither of them bores a single scratch—not from the earlier cover fire, nor from the torrent of projectiles launched by the Gate of Babylon. They moved like seasoned masters of evasion and parrying—untouchable

"Bring him down first," Deutschland ordered, effortlessly sliding across the ocean's surface. "That shield might block our attacks too, so hit it with everything you've got." She flipped into a somersault, evading stray bullets with fluid, acrobatic move.

Hakuryuu didn't even flinch. "Hit him hard and drive it downward. Got it." She tilted her head to avoid one shot, deflected another with the hilt of her blade, and let the rest whistle harmlessly past.

"Run all you want," Yulijer growled. "You'll never reach me."

Judging by the weapon they carried, he was sure they'd strike with claws or blades.

Both of them are close-range weapons. In other words, they had to get in his face to be a threat. And even if they tried cannons or planes instead, his shields were already primed to crush any resistance.

But would Yulijer just sit there and let them close the gap? Of course not.

He ascended swiftly—his floating chariot lifting him high into the sky within seconds, widening the gap between them. A sneer curled on his lips as he looked down from above, fully aware of the advantage altitude granted him.

However, those girls had no intention of relying on their rigging alone. Despite being a cruiser and a carrier, Hakuryuu and Deutschland had more than one way to strike a moving target in the sky.

"Soru (Shave)—geppo (Moon Walk)!" Deutschland shouted, her voice cutting through the wind.

"Shunpo," Hakuryuu said quietly, vanishing in a flash.

From the ocean's surface, Deutschland shot upward like a streak of dark crimson lightning—aimed straight at Yulijer. The move wasn't just speed... it was a sharpened technique she'd honed alongside her mastery in multiple forms of Haki.

Beside her, Hakuryuu kept pace effortlessly, her form flickering in and out of view like a ghost drawn in ink and wind. Her blade was already drawn, gripped with both hands—without hesitation to strike.

Together, they soared into the sky—stepping on the very air itself or using incoming projectiles as footholds amidst the chaos of the battlefield—rising higher and higher until they reached the very front of Yulijer's floating throne.

Like twin fangs poised to strike, they halted midair—weapons drawn, ready to tear him down. Their presence alone was enough to make Yulijer raise his defenses, summoning his shield once more in anticipation of the blow.

"So, you've come all this way just to throw your lives away?" Yulijer sneered. "Didn't we already prove how pointless that is!?" And just to be expected, the shield formation flared to life—ready to intercept whatever came next.

"Silence, you clown!" Deutschland snarled, her voice cutting like steel as Armament Haki surged across her massive claw in a flash of black.

"…Esoteric Art—Ichimonji," Hakuryuu whispered, her words like the calm before a blade falls.

Then—impact.

Claw and blade slammed into the shield formation with a thunderous crash—tearing the air apart as raw force met arcane defense. Sparks and crackles of energy burst outward, a violent clash of opposing powers igniting on impact.

The very atmosphere trembled.

Even Yulijer's floating chario began to wobble, losing its stability under the shockwave.

Realizing what was happening, Yulijer's eyes widened—his expression twisting in disbelief.

Ship girls—mere ship girls—had actually shaken him on his throne. Creations born from vanity, fanservice, and fantasy—nothing more than toys for war nerds and gooners.

"Don't get cocky—Chain of Heaven!" Yulijer roared.

Once again, he unleashed the Gate of Babylon—space rippling open as golden chains burst forth like vipers, aiming to ensnare Deutschland and Hakuryuu where they still floated midair.

With both ship girls still pressing their weapons against his shield, Yulijer was certain they couldn't dodge in time. Once bound, the rest would crumble—just two girls below, firing cannons without any real chance of breaching his defenses.

That twin tailed blonde—Hornet—was still missing somewhere, but he didn't consider her a threat. Her tricks wouldn't matter. The last one, Ichigo, stood silently near the ocean's surface, her large fox tail swaying behind her as she watched the sky.

Oddly enough, every projectile Yulijer fired in her direction had… burned. Not shattered, not deflected—burned away mid-flight. And yet, he saw no fire, no flames, no heat around her.

Just that unshakable silence… and her.

A chill crawled up Yulijer's spine.

But then—

"What?!" Yulijer barked, eyes wide.

To his disbelief, both Deutschland and Hakuryuu had already slipped free—dodging the divine chains before they could even tighten. Evading the bind of golden chains in perfect timing, like they'd seen it coming all along.

"H-How did you dodge that?!" ☆Yulijer☆

"I saw it coming," Deutschland replied coolly, a glint of red flashing in her eyes.

"Your killing intent is too loud," Hakuryuu added, landing gracefully on Deutschland's back before springing even higher—prompting a brief, annoyed twitch from the other girl. "Borrowing this. Just once."

Hakuryuu shot upward as Deutschland dropped low—both slipping cleanly past the golden chains still thrashing through the air like a frenzied net of vipers. The maneuver was flawless, but not exactly appreciated.

"Oi… seriously?" Deutschland muttered, mildly annoyed.

But Hakuryuu was already airborne—her blade raised, her target clear.

At the same moment, sensing an opportunity as the two girls had split apart, the young man unleashed another barrage—attempting to skewer both Deutschland and Hakuryuu with a fresh rain of projectiles.

Yet as if she had eyes in the back of her head, the Iron Blood girl spun midair, parrying each one with her massive claw. Meanwhile, the girl with the oversized katana moved like a phantom—deflecting, sidestepping, and countering every shot aimed mid-air.

The sharp clash of steel against steel echoed rapidly—accelerando bursts of sound as blade-like bullets collided with sword strokes guided by inhuman instinct.

Hakuryuu moved like a fish through current, redirecting every threat aimed at her with fluid, deliberate technique.

"Fall... and behold how fierce the ocean truly is," Hakuryuu muttered coldly.

And now, after soaring to such heights—It was time for her blade to descend.

Her sword gleamed, casting a cold, merciless shadow across Yulijer.

"Ashina esoteric Art..." Hakuryuu murmured.

Below, Deutschland was still regaining altitude with razor-sharp footwork—but Hakuryuu had no intention of waiting her. Not when Yulijer's golden chains were still slithering freely around them, searching for openings.

"Ichimonji...!" 「Hakuryuu」

The sword raised high then brought down with earth-splitting force onto his shield formation. The first impact struck like a waterfall from the heavens, hammering the barrier with raw, unfiltered might.

The wind howled—tugging at their uniforms and hair—while a massive shockwave rippled outward, violent and sudden. For a split second, Yulijer felt as if he'd been hit by a Noble Phantasm.

But it didn't end there.

The ship girl twisted her stance immediately.

To strike again—this time, with even greater force than before.

"Ni-ren! (Double!)" Hakuryuu roared.

The second blow followed immediately—louder, heavier, seething with fury and sharpened resolve.

The shock split the clouds above like a cleaved sky.

Like another bigger waterfall crashing against stone and scattering in every direction, its force scattering with wild abandon. Sparks exploded, dancing in every direction as cracks began to shimmer across the golden construct.

Yulijer's mighty shield—was beginning to crack under her relentless blade.

But unfortunately for Hakuryuu… even then, the barrier still held.

"Ugh?! Still not enough?!" Hakuryuu growled through gritted teeth.

"H-Hah! That scared me for nothing!" Yulijer snapped back, his smirk returning. "Now I've got you—"

Still suspended midair, her momentum was waning—the force behind her strike fading like a waterfall running dry. And Yulijer saw it.

The instant her power dipped, his expression twisted with cruel triumph. He reached forward, hand outstretched, fingers aiming straight for her throat—ready to crush her defiance with his own bare hand.

But before his fingers could so much as graze her—the chariot jolted violently from behind.

"How many times do I have to save your reckless ass?!" 「Deutschland」

"Haha! You know I hate counting!" Hakuryuu shot back with a grin.

Her partner had arrived—right behind the floating throne. Without a moment's delay, Deutschland grabbed onto the railing and yanked herself up—her claws already pulled back for a strike.

And then—like a wrecking machine—she brought her claw crashing down.

The impact tore a massive, gaping hole into the rear of Yulijer's airborne chariot—metal shrieked and sparks flew as Deutschland's claw carved clean through its durability.

Seizing the moment, Hakuryuu followed up immediately—driving her foot downward with brutal force, stomping straight onto the weakened frame. His throne plummeted like a comet crashing toward the sea.

"Damn you mongrels!!" ☆Yulijer☆

"You deserve it, faker—crownless, counterfeit, wannabe, throne-usurping disgrace!" 「Deutschland」

But Yulijer was nothing if not persistent.

He leapt away, allowing his damaged throne to plunge into the waves. Now, he stood atop a platform of golden ripples—conjured by the Gate of Babylon. Apparently, those shimmering waves could hold more than just weapons.

"What's next?" Hakuryuu asked, steadying her breath.

"What else? Phase two," Deutschland replied, cracking her knuckles.

As for the two ship girls—having succeeded in their assault—they didn't bother taunting him further. They retreated, slipping back behind the defensive line formed by Gascogne and Yamashiro the moment their feet touched the ocean surface.

The four of them stood together once more—tense, steady, and silent.

It was strange. There was no sign of danger. No new signal. No warning.

And yet, all of them were bracing—poised as if something might erupt from the sea or sky at any second. Just like when you're halfway through a boss fight… and they choir song began to play in the background.

"We're counting on you," Deutschland's voice was calm, but her eyes were sharp.

"Roger," Gascogne responded, her tone as even as always.

During their training on Skull Island, they had faced plenty of high-level monsters capable of sudden shifts.

When a creature's HP or energy dropped below a certain threshold… everything could change.

Suddenly getting stronger after taking a beating—just before death.

Suddenly warping the battlefield, twisting the biome and reshaping the terrain itself.

Suddenly unleashing attacks they once thought impossible—like a guaranteed hit.

In Yulijer's case maybe he wasn't a monster, but he was just as strong as any of the beasts they'd fought before… and far more dangerous, because he had the intelligence of a man.

And now, they'd just destroyed one of his key platforms—

The very thing that let him soar above them with impunity.

That alone was enough to change the entire shape of this battle.

And just like those fearsome monsters they'd faced back then, he was bound to change the way he fought. Maybe not drastically—maybe not even visibly at first. But one thing was certain...

He'd SHATTER the rhythm they had worked so hard to build.

Or in simpler terms—Phase Two.

"Enough playing around," ripples of gold returned at Yulijer's side, shimmering as space bent and warped. "Learn your place, ship girls mongrels," from the swirling portal, he reached in and pulled out another weapon—a sword unlike the others.

"If you're so eager to die, then allow me to grant your wish." ☆Yulijer☆

This blade didn't gleam under the sun, nor dim beneath the clouds—it unsettled them. A black, drill-like sword, spinning violently, ripping at the very seams of space with its presence alone.

Even from afar, the ship girls could feel the twisted energy spiraling around it. It bore no sharp edge—yet every inch radiated devastation. The air shrieked as it shredded through, forming a screeching vortex of malice and power.

The sea crashed and spin beneath him. The skies twisted above.

Both of them spiraled into vortexes, pulled toward a single point—him. Nature bent, the winds howled, and all things began to orbit his presence like a King of the world demanding reverence.

"…Are we even sure we can dodge that thing?" 「Deutschland」

"Report: Based on preliminary analysis," Gascogne began calmly, "the weapon appears to possess time and space distortion properties. Evading it will likely require either equivalent manipulation of time-space, or speed sufficient to break free from localized distortion fields."

"Can't I just try to parry it?" 「Hakuryuu」

"Nonono, absolutely not!" 「Yamashiro」

That sword didn't just distort mana, the atmosphere, the sky, or the sea.

It warped the very world itself.

"EA... show them MY power," Yulijer raised the weapon high. "ENUMA… ELISH!!!"

...

....

.....

In a place that resembled Azur Lane Academy—but was, in truth, something entirely different—another commotion was unfolding. A disruption sparked by yet another thread of the Fool's grand design.

And it was this very disturbance… that finally opened their eyes.

"Ughh… what was I…?" Saratoga groaned, blinking against the sterile lights above.

"Oh? Finally awake, are we? Congratulations. You're the first among your little group to stir. How very… promising." 「Observer」

The Elite Siren tilted her head slightly, voice dripping with mock kindness, "Would you like a glass of cold water? A warm bowl of mung bean porridge, perhaps? Or… maybe some information about what's actually going on?"