After hearing Fujimaru Ritsuka's sharp statement, Reuel spoke up.
"Don't panic!"
He raised one hand, trying to calm the situation.
"If you guys really can't handle this, I still have an option. I can open a channel and summon some shipgirls who are very enthusiastic about… suppressing the French bloodline."
His tone was calm—almost relaxed. Far too relaxed for someone who had just confirmed summoning the King of England into the middle of the Anglo-French conflict.
Mash and Ritsuka exchanged a look, still clearly distressed. Reuel, in his own way—albeit a controversial one—was trying to reassure them.
As a backup plan—should the situation truly go south—Reuel was even ready to open additional routes. He could call for reinforcements from the Azur Lane base or the Adepta Sororitas from the Warhammer universe. He was even considering summoning Saint Celestine herself, the Living Saint, to face the Heroic Spirits of Terra Aeterna.
Richelieu could only sigh at his words.
"Suppressing the bloodline, he says…" she muttered under her breath.
With a half-critical tone, she remarked that once they returned to the port region, she would strongly suggest to Bismarck that they schedule some serious personality therapy for their Commander.
Ignoring Richelieu's comment, Reuel promptly spread a map over a large stone and began marking two key points with his finger.
"Now then, let's talk about how we're going to resolve this singularity."
"We're currently near Limoges. If I remember correctly, the bosses of this singularity—Black Jeanne and Caster Gilgamesh—are located in Orléans. The Greater Grail should be there too."
"It's about 200 kilometers away. Not too far, as long as we know a safe route."
However, since the area was inland and had no river access, the shipgirls couldn't operate in their true combat forms. Ground transport was their only option.
"Should we launch an aerial strike straight at Orléans?" asked Enterprise, who, along with Formidable, had deployed a few scout aircraft to survey the surrounding area.
"No need," Reuel replied, shaking his head.
"That would alert the enemy too early. Remember, the Heroic Spirits we're up against aren't greenhorns like Muzan. They can't be taken down by just aerial bombardment."
"So... we're going on foot?"
"Exactly. We need to depart immediately. If we move quickly, we can reach the next town before sundown and buy some supplies there."
Mash instantly opened her device and began planning the travel route.
But then Reuel suddenly cut in, his expression shifting to a casual grin.
"Who said we're going on foot?" he said, smirking.
"Let's ride a Gundam and give France a mechanical surprise they'll never forget."
The words came out just like that. No warning.
Click—click.
In an instant, Strike Freedom's body was projected right in front of them. The elegant metal titan, with its glowing golden wings, stood proudly atop medieval French soil.
Ever since merging man and machine, Reuel could summon any part of Strike Freedom, anytime, anywhere.
Mash and Artoria stared, eyes wide. Their mouths hung half open. Even the wind seemed to pause for three full seconds.
"What is this...? A robot?" asked Artoria, in a tone caught between awe and confusion.
Being someone from the modern era, Fujimaru Ritsuka jumped in right away,
"That's… a Transformer!"
"....."
"....."
Reuel's mouth twitched.
Transformers...? he thought in disbelief. Since when did Chaldea have a copy of that movie? And when did Fujimaru even have time to watch it...?
But he decided not to question it further.
"You're seriously going to give someone a heart attack, you know that? This is a Gundam—specifically, Strike Freedom."
Reuel nodded with a relaxed smile.
"I'll introduce you to the Autobots next. Let's have a playdate."
With a calm demeanor, he reassured the girl who had just been left speechless. He moved the mecha to bend forward slightly, then extended its mechanical arm—gesturing for everyone to climb aboard the giant Gundam's open palm.
Strike Freedom wasn't just any robot. It could maneuver freely in the air and even in outer space. At full thrust, its speed could surpass several times the speed of sound. Even within the atmosphere, it could still cruise at subsonic speeds, making a 200-kilometer journey a total non-issue.
---
"Master..." Artoria looked around, her expression filled with questions.
"Why... does your combat style feel so different from everyone else's?"
The year was 1431, the height of the Medieval Era.
French knights still fought with swords and spears. On the battlefield, English longbowmen and infantry clashed in classic formations.
But amidst all that...
Someone was piloting a Gundam.
"This makes no sense," Artoria muttered.
"In an age of catapults and crossbows, you show up with... this."
---
Bzzzzz—
At several thousand meters above the ground, Strike Freedom spread its radiant weaponized wings. It glided smoothly through the atmosphere, like a giant eagle from the future challenging the flow of history.
This mecha was originally designed for a single pilot—no extra seats. So their small group—eight people in total—were forced to cram together.
On the right side of the cockpit, Richelieu, Formidable, and Artoria were squeezed in tight.
The two shipgirls stood on either side of Artoria in the middle. The cramped space created a... rather awkward atmosphere.
"Ugh... so heavy," Artoria complained as she tried to shift her position.
When she looked up, she was greeted with two sights that made her eye twitch:
First, Sister Richelieu's breasts dominating the left side.
Second, Enterprise's curves pressing in from the right.
Though both were wearing standard ship uniforms, their "combat assets" were absolutely impossible to ignore.
"....."
Artoria glanced down at her own chest.
...and compared.
An unspoken sense of inferiority began creeping into her heart.
"They're only a little older than me, so why... why is there such a big difference?!"
She let out a long sigh.
"There must've been something wrong with the Sword in the Stone... The moment I pulled it out, my growth stopped completely, huh."
---
Meanwhile, on the left side of the cockpit, Joan of Arc, Fujimaru Ritsuka, and Mash were huddled together. Their bodies were relatively petite, so the space was a bit more manageable.
"Ohhhhhh—!!!"
Gudao—aka Gudako, aka Fujimaru Ritsuka—was clearly enjoying every second of this.
His eyes sparkled as he gazed out the observation window, watching the clouds part and the vast lands of France stretch out below.
"Something this big exists in another world?!" he exclaimed in awe.
"Can you build one for me too?! I don't wanna be a Master anymore! I wanna be a Gundam pilot!"
"???"
Mash, sitting beside him, could only stare at him in shock.
"We still have to save humanity! Dr. Roman is waiting for us in Chaldea!"
---
Back in the main cockpit...
Since both right and left seats were filled with girls, Reuel ended up stuck, sitting shoulder to shoulder with Dafeng.
Something incredibly soft was pressing against his back.
"Commander-sama..." came a gentle voice.
Dafeng leaned toward him slowly, a delicate scent drifting from behind his shoulder, nearly breaking Reuel's focus.
"Uh, I'm piloting a Gundam right now... maybe calm down a bit?" he said awkwardly.
But Dafeng's voice turned tender—almost like a whisper under moonlight.
"Commander... why won't you look at me more closely?"
Reuel felt the atmosphere shifting.
"Do you... have someone you like?"
"I like all the shipgirls at Minato," he replied flatly, trying to dodge the question.
But Dafeng continued to lean closer. Her tone turned sorrowful, yet seductive.
"Then why... don't you want to be with me anymore? Is it because... you don't like me?"
She rested her chin on Reuel's shoulder and whispered softly:
"If you want... Dafeng can give you anything..."
Her voice was deep and sweet, seductive and heartrending. Like honey dripping into his ears.
Reuel grit his teeth.
"Damn it... who the hell could resist this?!"
But whether it was because his mental state was still intact... or because he was just that professional, he managed to keep full control of Strike Freedom without plunging from the stratosphere.
Reuel gazed into the distance, watching the horizon slowly change color. His thoughts drifted back, recalling the steps he had taken from the very beginning—since he first met the shipgirls and began building a home in the ruins of a broken world.
He took a slow breath. It was time to reflect a little.
"Back then... my mind was only focused on construction and agriculture," he said softly. "I was too busy organizing everything, I ended up unknowingly neglecting my own ideas."
He lowered his gaze slightly, his voice sincere.
"Sorry."
Since he had started building the Imperium of Man civilization on Earth, now infected by the T-Virus from the Resident Evil world, Reuel had almost never had time to rest. Problems came one after another, and everything felt like an unending parade of absurdities.
From calming the Warhammer people so they wouldn't immediately bombard the shipgirls and creatures from Azur Lane,
to resolving the brutal conflicts between Warhammer fighters and the Terran faction from StarCraft.
He also had to deal with... things like
Not to mention the construction of churches and statues of himself by the Adepta Sororitas and Ecclesiarchy—something, though strange, they did with complete conviction.
That still wasn't enough.
He had once built a colony from scratch, founded Hive cities, developed industrial planets for the Death Korps of Krieg, even conquered the native inhabitants of other worlds to extract resources for the Imperium.
It all kept moving forward—systematic, vast, brutal.
But, on this vast and ambitious journey, sometimes, by prioritizing the expansion of the Imperium, he often forgot that the shipgirls who accompanied him were individuals with hearts and emotions. They weren't just pawns in the construction of an empire.
Now, Reuel was beginning to realize. He was on a more balanced path. He didn't need to feel anxious or guilty all the time.
And just as he began to find that peace...
"So... do you like Dafeng?"
The soft and trembling voice came from beside him—from Dafeng.
"Eh..."
Reuel could only nod in response.
Who could resist such a direct assault from a shipgirl? Especially when they were cramped together in the driver's seat like this.
"Commander-sama!!"
Dafeng exclaimed happily, and Reuel could feel her hand beginning to move—restlessly.
"Eh, isn't... this space a bit too cramped?" Reuel suggested, trying to stay calm. "Why don't you go back and find a more comfortable place?"
With two people squeezed into the small driver's seat, their bodies pressed together, making it almost impossible for Reuel to move. Even just turning his body was difficult.
"True," Dafeng replied quickly. "But I can't let 'pests' see this view."
She seemed to think for a moment, but didn't budge.
"I still want to know more about the Commander..."
"For example—"
"...???"
Reuel furrowed his brows. His concentration shattered.
Suddenly, Richelieu's panicked voice sliced through the air from the side.
"Commander!! A dragon! A dragon!! DRAGON!!!"
"There's a dragon in front!!!"
"Move quickly!!!"
"AAAAHHH—"
"What?!"
A terrifying roar echoed from the distance—loud, shrill, and vibrating through the air.
A massive black dragon emerged from behind the clouds, its size far greater than Strike Freedom. With a fearsome roar, it unleashed a stream of fire from the sky, burning the city below and turning everything into a sea of flames.
"WHAT THE HELL?! WHERE DID THIS DRAGON COME FROM?!"
Before Reuel could react further, Strike Freedom—currently moving at subsonic speed—crashed into the dragon's body with a sudden maneuver.
"Oh damn, damn, damn...!"
BOOM!!
A tremendous explosion occurred.
The outer armor of Assault on Freedom was incredibly strong, but the dragon's scales proved just as tough. The collision between them made a deafening sound, strong enough to shake the ground.
In the sky, one dragon and one Gundam were locked in an odd aerial battle—spinning uncontrollably, gripping each other in a brutal dogfight—before falling to the ground together, completely entangled.