Warning lights flashed in the hangar bay.
Dispatch orders flowed in orderly sequence.
At that moment, on a movable catwalk seven or eight meters above ground—
Vela shed her cloak. Clad in a pilot suit of white trimmed in gold with red shoulders, her tall, slender figure was outlined with perfect elegance.
The double-layer design with tailcoat panels was the highlight—retaining the pressure-suit's protective functions while form-fitting, neither overly revealing nor bulky.
Under the respectful gazes of her dedicated maintenance and research staff, she walked unhurriedly toward the open chest-mounted control cockpit of [Excalibur].
Unlike the capsule-shaped or rear-mounted cockpits currently popular in Knightmare design, filling most of the torso or protruding from the back—
The 12-meter-tall [Excalibur]'s cockpit was embedded directly in the chest, wrapped in special elastic alloys, new-generation electromagnetic armor belts, and reinforced alloy framing—its heaviness reassuring.
Far beyond the "4–5 meter-class" standards of machines like the [Sutherland] or [Gloucester].
With more internal space, the pilot seat, integrated systems, sensors, and interface layout were spacious, not cramped. In a semicircular open arrangement, Vela stepped into the cockpit, placing her feet on the fixed pedal grooves. Adjusting to a comfortable posture, she found every detail—custom-tailored to her physique and habits—perfectly aligned. The main console offered a commanding field of vision.
She slotted in the ID-key. Beep-beep-beep—
Main system startup.
The UI flashed. Britannia's crest of eagle and serpent bowing before the crown unfurled across the display.
Dim light filled the cockpit as auxiliary screens glowed to life.
[Scanning target…]
[Key recognition—passed]
[Biometric recognition—passed]
[Identity confirmed: Vela vi Britannia]
[Neural interface established]
Clack—
With verification complete, hydraulic rods extended, and the chest armor closed with a heavy snap, bolts locking seamlessly into place.
The seventh-generation composite sakuradite engine gave a soft hum.
Standby voltage peaked; within seconds, all systems read green.
Traditionally, Knightmare pilot verification relied only on ID keys and serial codes. But after the Area 11 Shinjuku Incident—Governor assassinated, Zero's rise, the Black Knights' founding, and terrorists repeatedly stealing units using hacked keys—Vela had personally ordered security patches.
To prevent "plug-and-play" theft, Euro Britannia's entire military and police systems had been upgraded under the Third Princess's initiative.
The safeguards were now far tighter.
Perhaps still not enough to stop elite hackers.
Like Zero of Area 11.
According to intelligence speculation, either he himself—or someone in his circle—was a hacking expert. Otherwise, how could he so quickly hijack military frames? Surely not by traitorous pilots handing them over?
Even if that were so, the fact that rank-and-file thugs could immediately pilot Britannia's standard units highlighted a glaring flaw.
As for extending this to all Britannian warzones? Vela had already submitted her report directly to Emperor Charles.
Vmmm… vmmm…
Scanning the instruments once more, Vela gripped the control sticks. With a faint hum, [Excalibur]'s hawk-like head, crowned with sharp fins, lit its V-shaped visor in pale blue.
The core engine pulsed, channeling power through conduits into hydraulics and artificial-muscle systems—like a human heart pumping blood throughout the body.
At the same time, inside the cockpit, the silver-gray framework of overlapping ivory polygonal panels lit up gradually.
Like a massive video screen powering on, it turned translucent, colors shifting, becoming a seamless full-holo panoramic view.
A full 180 degrees, streams of data flowed in holographic projections across the display before Vela's eyes.
Advanced detection systems, fire control, scanners, early-warning, AI-assisted interfaces—all integrated into the console. From Vela's elevated view, the hangar of the G-1 land battleship spread out with crystal clarity.
She shifted the scan reticle slightly.
Targets caught in its frame enlarged automatically. The onboard processor indexed the database, overlaying ID or threat evaluations in small data windows.
Then—
Clang!
[Excalibur]'s iron hand opened sharply under her lever command, fists clashing against its chest.
Feeling the fluid motion of the drive systems, Vela nodded in satisfaction.
Not yet the seamless neural-bridge control or cybernetic interface she envisioned, but far beyond Fifth- or Sixth-Generation models. The OS feedback response window was already far more agile. As for Seventh-Generation designs—well, upper limits required ace pilots. Knights of the Round.
One bite at a time.
...
Retracting her gaze, Vela summoned the intel-analysis and command modules, real-time monitoring of battlefield conditions. Opening external audio, she ordered: "Second, Fourth, and Seventh Royal Guard ground assault battalions—report to Departure Port Three. Stand by for deployment."
"Yes, Your Highness!"
Just then—
Beep, beep-beep.
A comm signal entered [Excalibur]'s system.
The Ninth Knight.
"Nonette."
Vela lifted her chin slightly.
The blonde, gray-eyed warrior woman had shed her cloak, piloting her custom frame across the skies.
Naturally, her Knightmare bore a FLOAT System, hovering on blue-violet wings like a fighter jet.
As a Knight of the Round—the pinnacle of Britannian arms—even experimental, top-secret technologies were hers for the taking, should she accept the risk.
Nonette laughed heartily: "Come on!"
"Vela, if you dawdle, I'm starting without you!"
"Loser wears a pink frilly dress!"
Having known each other since youth, and trained at the same academy, Vela and Nonette shared a close bond. Only after Nonette became a Knight of the Round, as one of the Emperor's guard, had she been forced to limit contact with royals to avoid suspicion.
Unlike Lords Moltke and Lohengramm—both sworn Hohenzollern vassals—Nonette was different. If not for the 'Blood Crest' rebellion wiping out much of the former Knights of the Round, and the Hohenzollerns' decisive loyalty in supporting Emperor Charles, even at the cost of their duke's injury in battle, the Emperor would not have promoted them.
"Heh."
Vela arched a brow at Nonette's words, grinning, her charming lips curving higher.
"Just you and me here—no Cornelia to bail you out. So tell me, what style of pink dress will you wear? Lace or sheer?"
"Neither."
Nonette replied calmly: "That's why I'll start now."
Whoosh!
The Ninth Knight's [Bedivere Club] dove into a steep serpentine maneuver, streaking over the G-1's hull, surging southwest. Two long contrails trailed brilliantly across the sky.
Vela: "…"
"Your Highness?"
Major General Model, commander of the Princess's Royal Guard Corps and chief coordinator of the G-1's layered defense, coughed lightly to ease the awkward silence, then asked cautiously: "You and the Ninth…"
But at that moment, [Excalibur] strode forward.
The entire launch bay trembled faintly as the silver-gray giant braced itself on the reinforced electromagnetic catapult deck, specially expanded and strengthened to bear its weight.
"Royal Guard, follow me into battle."
With that, Vela yanked the control lever upward.
Zoom—!!
...
Now.
Southwest of the G-1 land battleship's command group—
Rumble—
Having just had its energy pack swapped by maintenance crews, the [Lancelot] rested. Suzaku Kururugi used the pause to shut his eyes, but now they opened.
"Suzaku-kun, if you wish to achieve your ideals, then look to the Knights of the Round as your model. Strive, build your merit."
Cecile's warm voice came through the comms.
In the background, Dr. Lloyd's incoherent wails of excitement could be heard, muttering streams of obscure technical jargon.
On the display, troops streamed forward under G-1's command, outer perimeter patrol forces passing through. The Eleven Expeditionary Corps and nearby Britannian detachments tasked with slicing enemy lines had also been redirected.
But among the mass, the most eye-catching were the two machines racing high above, breaking sound barriers, one chasing the other in a game of pursuit.
One was a Knight of the Round.
The other—the Third Princess herself.
"So… so big."
That was Suzaku's most immediate impression.
He had always assumed Knights of the Round wielded machines at least on par with the Special Dispatch's [Lancelot].
But against the steel-gray giant—flagged prominently in the Euro Britannia-wide comms system—it seemed childlike.
"Tch."
Through her rear-view sensors, Nonette glimpsed the silver-gray titan streaking forward like a comet. She shook her head, half-bitter.
She looked at Vela's face on her comm screen.
"How do you manage it? Something this heavy, yet not a hint slower."
Her tone was sincere, even envious. She added that when they returned, she too wanted a behemoth of her own.
"Nothing but brute force made elegant."
Slowing to fly alongside her, Vela calmly transmitted her machine's specs to her old schoolmate.
Nonette couldn't mask her curiosity. She opened the file at once.
[Excalibur]
Model: Von-03
Height: 12.67 m
Combat Weight: 41.6 t
Armament/Defense: Variable Ammunition Repulsor Cannon, High-Power Hadron Cannon, Missile System, Energy Shield
Loadout: MVS Swords ×2
Hydro-oxy explosive charges
FLOAT System hover flight
Six-engine jet flight pack
...
After a quick scan, Nonette said with admiration: "You always criticized the Empire's miniaturization strategy. Now that technology has matured, you finally couldn't resist building a giant. It looks like the project's a success. Congratulations."
Military reform included rethinking Knightmare's role—size being the most visible shift.
And as Vela's senior, Nonette remembered well. Back in the academy, Vela's sharp complaints about the bulky Ganymede Third-Gen still lingered. And her own embrace of Vela's "bigger, faster, stronger" theories had influenced her. Even her Knight of the Round custom frame turned out larger than average.
No going back.
Looking now, four-meter-class frames truly did feel cramped.
"Too early for champagne."
Vela shook her head.
"When you see my entire Royal Guard outfitted with new models—then you may congratulate me."
Strictly speaking, [Excalibur] wasn't a complete success.
Its design philosophy—pushing performance ceilings—demanded extreme physical resilience from the pilot, on top of immense cost.
Even in a pressure suit and secured cockpit rig, Vela still felt the hammering G-forces of supersonic flight. She could bear it. Lesser pilots, though, might end up in the ICU after a single sortie.
It carried the shadow of a superweapon.
Though Vela herself had no illusions of building such things. She only wanted a personal steed fitting her station, while pursuing technical research and creating a reserve of designs for future replication by her "sisters."
Her real aim was affordability, assembly-line production.
At worst—high-end mass-production frames.
Hearing her explanation, Nonette laughed.
"So you just scaled up every parameter of Euro Britannia's Knightmares?"
Vela smiled lightly.
"Blending in with dust and light."
Currently, Britannia's Knightmare divisions relied mainly on the Fifth-Generation [Sutherland], with countless variants and upgrades.
The Sixth-Generation [Gloucester]—in truth more of a "Five and a Half"—was often still categorized as Fifth-Gen. Compared to the huge leap from [Glasgow] (Fourth-Gen) to [Sutherland], its overall improvement was modest.
It served mainly in elite units.
But with Euro Britannia's recent efforts—under Vela's coordination—its R&D and industrial branches had achieved real breakthroughs. Advances in CNC machining, automation, mechatronics, sakuradite engines, energy efficiency, materials science, structural engineering, and bionics all bore fruit. The newly rolled-out [Gloucester Kai] finally deserved the Sixth-Gen title.
Larger frames, stronger powerplants, sturdier armor, heavier weapons, updated electronic systems…
In short: designs from the Seventh Generation onward took a fresh approach. Earlier models were patched and upgraded for years more.
Even the wealthy Holy Britannian Empire couldn't replace its entire military with Seventh-Gen overnight.
Each case had to be judged by need.
Miniaturized Knightmares still had their roles and fields of use.
"And don't think you can change the subject. You're wearing that pink dress!"
Vela chuckled wickedly. "And I'll be sure to tell Cornelia."
Nonette's eyes flickered nervously. She laughed it off quickly.
Ten minutes passed.
Across the plains near the Latvian-Lithuanian border, the thunder of explosions grew louder and clearer.
Vela and Nonette shared a glance over the comms.
"Time."
At her word, [Bedivere Club] dove.
Vela did not rush. She guided [Excalibur] forward in midair, gaze fixed on the horizon. The holo display auto-corrected its framerate, zooming in. Rolling explosions and smoke clouds blurred the green fields in strokes of black and gray.
Hundreds of E.U. armored vehicles surged ahead, clashing with Britannian forces pushing into the area.
The E.U. troops had spotted Britannia's reinforcements. Swarms of flak and missile trails shot skyward.
Beep-beep…
Vela's lips curled upward, irrepressible.
She pulled the lever, toggled IFF, fire control locking on.
Clack.
Between [Excalibur]'s layered shoulder armor, the dark muzzle of a hadron cannon emerged, aimed at the red silhouettes of enemy units deep within.
Then she pressed the stud on her throttle.
Vmmm—
Two thick, crimson beams tore through the sky in an instant.
From the heavens, they fell upon the fields.