Electric Civilization (1)
Seventy warships of the battle fleet were speeding through a windless patch of sea.
"Captain, they're duds."
On a ship of a size unprecedented in the world, every kind of weapon had been mounted.
"You don't have to report every little thing. This is for courtesy. Give them one shot and they'll flare up."
The Jakra Pirate Fleet.
A famous pirate band in the South Pacific, led by Jakra, the younger brother of King Dionas.
"But they're duds."
His crimson hair burned like flame, and his wickedly slitted eyes stared beyond the horizon.
"This is inconvenient. Open all the gunports."
Iso Jakra.
Counted among the world's hundred most dangerous people, he was a master of Skima—unrivaled in naval combat.
"Open the ports!"
The hull slowly swung to port and a hundred and twenty gunports yawned along the side.
The cannon muzzles extended with an ominous vibration, long barrels thrusting forward like thorns.
"Power level three. Fire."
The crewman operating the mechanism turned his head.
"Captain. If we fire all 120 electric guns at once, our own hull will be torn apart too."
"It's fine. Fire."
It certainly would not be fine, but Jakra did not care about the consequences.
The vice-captain spoke up.
"How about luring them first? His Highness ordered us to avoid a frontal engagement if possible."
Making a pact with Arakne wasn't a losing deal for Dionas—what troubled them was Rangi.
Treasure could be taken again from pirates, but a person could not be replaced. The Jakra pirates' task was to provoke an engagement and snatch her away.
"If we only take Rangi, there'll be no disadvantage in negotiations. Their side has Yahweh. No need to provoke him unnecessarily, right?"
"Yahweh."
Even Jakra had heard the name.
"What... he saves the world or something? Why doesn't a guy like that come to me? Honestly, shouldn't I be the most pitiful fellow here?"
The vice-captain got to the point.
"He's strong. His record is brilliant."
"Yeah, so supposedly he's terrifyingly strong. Meanwhile I'm a cowardly, vicious, stupid little pirate."
The vice-captain did not deny it.
"Ha ha ha! Good! Show them what pirates can do. Kill the weak ones first! Harass them, threaten them!"
Jakra leapt up and pointed forward.
"King or no king—on the sea I'm a god! If I say it, it's done! Fire!"
The vice-captain sighed, turned, and nodded; a sailor entered the coordinates.
"Opening 120 electric gunports. Power level three. Estimated projectile speed... Mach 4.2."
Those still on deck watched Poine with stunned faces.
Half the falling cannonballs struck and dented as if pressed by fingerprints.
"What? Stopping cannonballs with your hands..." Only a tiny number on the tall ship even knew she was a dragon.
"Messiah."
Poine approached Shirone, who still wouldn't take his gaze off the enemy fleet.
"The projectiles exceeded the speed of sound. If we hadn't been watching, we'd have taken damage."
That was why Shirone held his position.
"How's your hand?"
Even with a dragon's durability, living cells have limits.
Poine glanced at his right hand.
"It's fine."
Against his will his fingertips trembled and the skin on the back of his hand was torn.
"But I can't guarantee the next one. It'd be better to strike first."
If Shirone permitted it, he wanted to take off then and boil the sea with poison.
While he was thinking, people evacuated and Arakne's tall ship drew closer.
Knights equipped with fly artifacts shot vertically through the air and landed on the deck.
"What happened?"
Minister of Diplomacy Cairns moved past the knights and approached.
"Pirates. Probably acting on behalf of the Kingdom of Dionas, but we can't confirm."
Cairns felt no betrayal.
"Tch! Typical bastards. By the way, where's that Benahar gone?"
He'd likely hidden somewhere among the lifeboats, but searching three hundred ships was impossible.
Shirone said, "This is only the beginning. If a battle breaks out, the damage will be uncontrollable. Retreat."
"We'll fight too. We formed an elite order of knights for this exact situation."
Having already lost the negotiation to Shirone, he couldn't back down.
If they lost the initiative here, even Maika's relic would be taken by Shirone.
Shirone glanced at Arakne's tall ship and met Rangi's eyes on the deck.
"...Do as you like. But if you've decided to fight, count me as a combatant as well."
It meant he could be used as a strategic sacrifice if necessary, and Cairns agreed.
"Of course."
The knights moved to the fore of the deck. Poine wore a grave expression.
"It doesn't look like they're interested in talking."
Through the giant lens of light Shirone had opened, he could see a battleship with over a hundred gunports.
"Th-that is...?"
A wavering heat shimmer rose over the warship, pushing the sea aside as it accelerated away at an incredible speed.
'Faster.' The knights had seen the 120 shots approaching, outrunning their sound...
'No time to react.'
You can't dodge something at close range—it's a pattern the brain knows.
"Huh? Uh—"
Confronted with something closing at unbelievable speed, their nerves screamed.
KRAAAANG!
When the roar hit, the knights felt as if time had reversed.
'Hand of God.'
The shells had already arrived, and it gave the illusion that Shirone had moved after them.
"Ugh!"
Shirone swept up the 120 cannonballs with a hand of light and scattered them into the air, shouting.
"Poine!"
As if she'd been waiting, Poine's mouth split into a wicked grin and her skin cracked.
"KRAAA!"
She rose into the sky; the knights stared dumbly at her mimicking form.
"Dragon..."
Compared to the usual image of a dragon, her body was gaunt and extremely long.
"Move! Dodge!"
Sensing the danger, the knights pulled Cairns back toward the captain's cabin.
The poison seeping from between her scales alone made breathing difficult.
"Pathetic humans..."
This was why Shirone restrained the apostle's mimicry—once she mimicked, every trace of humanity vanished.
'She's worked up. Can't be stopped.'
With her temperament, she would act even if the Messiah killed her for it.
"Follow me!"
Shirone opened his radiant wings and flew toward the pirates; Poine followed.
"Karururur!"
A boiling sound issued from the poison dragon's throat and thick, dark-green smoke billowed out.
"KRAAA!"
From three hundred meters out, Poine unleashed a breath—the mist of despair.
The smoke, spewed in a long tail like a meteor, filled the sea in an instant.
Screams rose from the pirates.
"Gas! Gas!"
Its charge time was two hours—short among the Twelve Apostles—but its duration exceeded two hours.
"Ahhh! Flesh is melting!"
Hearing the screams from inside the massive green cloud, Shirone checked his allied fleet.
'At this distance we're fine.'
If it hadn't been a windless zone, the toxic mist would have ridden the wind and killed allies too.
"Heh heh, the smell of rotting flesh is intoxicating."
Shirone glared at Poine, who craned her neck to peer down, then exhaled.
"But if she breathes, we can't identify the enemy."
"The mimicry was permitted by the Messiah. But if it hadn't been a killing strike, our losses would have been heavy."
They were certainly wielders of dangerous weapons.
"Huh?"
Shirone noticed a change in the character of the air and turned his head.
The green cloud that had merely hovered was now speeding up and beginning to rotate.
"What the—?"
Huge electrical bolts shot up outside the cloud and struck down like lightning in every direction.
'Magnetic field?'
The green smoke dispersed outward, revealing warships caught in a magnetic field.
"Ha ha ha! Is that all? Being a dragon is no big deal, is it?"
At Jakra's jeer, Poine's eyes went bloodshot.
"I'll tear you apart myself."
"Wait."
Something about the enemy formation felt wrong.
"The number of ships is off. Over thirty vessels are missing."
Shirone turned and saw the missing pirate ships chasing the lifeboats.
'I didn't see them?'
As if by magic, the ships had shifted through space.
"Save the world, Yahweh!"
From the source of the voice, Jakra had raised his sword and laughed.
"Huh? Can't save it? It'll all burn and rot into Budron soon. Puhahaha!"
The poison streaming from Poine was pure, but it was mere matter compared to Shirone's life force.
"...Wait here."
As his radiant wings fluttered, Shirone's body sliced the sea like a flash.
"Ugh!"
Flying at tremendous speed, Shirone confirmed the pirate ships' positions.
'Even flying like this takes more than two seconds. Clearly a physically impossible phenomenon is happening.'
From the thirty pirate ships, thousands of silhouettes swarmed upward like flocks of birds.
'Are those Budrons?'
They were small spheres with metal wings that vibrated, scattering in all directions the instant they locked on.
"Damn..."
Shirone moved, and thousands of Budrons traced enormous arcs and slammed into the allied fleet.
KRAAAANG!
Even from a distance, the chain explosions were massive—enough to judge their firepower.
"Puhahaha! What the—You called him Yahweh, but he's nothing special. Who are you protecting now?"
Jakra's men shivered at his attitude, which ignored the dragon in the sky.
'Our captain's a real madman.'
He cared nothing for firepower superiority, yet somehow always led them to victory.
"Hey! If you're so worked up, why don't you come down? I've wanted to catch a dragon since forever!"
Jakra drew his sword and taunted. Poine, watching the smoke, turned her head.
"I am not the one who will punish you." At that moment a lookout scanning the horizon through binoculars shouted in shock.
"Captain! Over there...!"
Jakra frowned and pressed his temple; a light entered his eyes.
Where the Budron smoke had vanished, there was not a lifeboat but a Hand of God.
"What? Where did they all go?"
As if to show him, the Hand of God opened its palm—yet nothing was there.
Jakra's expression went cold. The Hand of God waved its hand swiftly—
—and the next instant, when it struck the sea, nearly three hundred lifeboats appeared.
Pirates and refugees alike—and even Poine—had no idea what had just happened.
"Hand of God."
Shirone said.
"Sleight of Hand (the Technique of the Hand)."