Among Abyssals of the J-Faction, arrogance runs deep.
They're the ones most eager to take on "one versus a thousand," and most of the human side's legendary feats were written against them—because these folks love to ditch their formations and swagger into solo duels right in front of the lines.
So watching Abyssal Musashi refuse duels and insist on mob tactics had already shocked Airfield Princess and Fortress Princess. Now, with forces more than ample, she still called it "not enough"—enough to make the two suspect something was wrong with her head.
Airfield Princess's eyes flicked to Musashi's black-red twin horns, wondering if her mind had been warped by "that thing."
"You haven't seen how strong those shipgirls—like Bismarck—really are. If you had, you'd understand."
Musashi's voice stayed cold. "Either way, we can't launch a general assault yet. Two N-class flagships will arrive tomorrow, and my army will top five million. That's when we strike."
Airfield Princess glanced aside; Abyssal Hindenburg was nodding earnestly.
For G-Faction's proudest battleship to be this meek—clearly that human port has real teeth.
Mockery aside, Musashi was still in command of this campaign. Airfield Princess and Fortress Princess exchanged a look and nodded together. "We'll do it your way."
Contrary to Musashi's guesswork, Hikaru's port—counting only those fully present and not the five outsiders like Alaska—had twenty-two shipgirls plus Instructor Ella (a special case). Instructors are a special class: for example, Avrora exists by virtue of a ship model—kept in the inner port's collection room. Instructors don't level, and they're basically non-combat, good only for admin work.
Fully transferred into the port right now are exactly twenty. The secretary ship, the cook, and the instructor are here because of the odd linkage between the inner and outer ports.
Hikaru sat under the lamp with Bismarck, Prince of Wales, and the others, tallying their strength.
"First, those with essentially no combat power: Ella, Vampire, and Cali— you three must stay on me at all times and accept unified protection."
Vampire patted her little nurse's apron, pouting. "I'm strong, you know! My custom torpedoes—Helena said they're great!"
And since Helena manages the little girls, Vampire respects her even across factions.
California had curled up in an armchair by the corner, face pale. The chair rocked itself—probably the inner-port brats pushing it for fun.
She'd begged to sortie, but with a pitiful leve, this kind of battlefield would swat her the moment she poked her head out.
Benched, California had been glum all day.
Ella, for her part, had made peace with her lot. Notebook in hand, she stood at Hikaru's side, the picture of a reliable little secretary.
As for the actual secretary ship—Missouri—she'd sprawled out asleep across the desk, i.e., right in front of Hikaru. With Washington and North Carolina (the scolds) not around and Lexington off leading ASW strikes, she could misbehave all she liked; nobody could rein her in.
"Those who must remain at the port—no sorties unless it's truly life-or-death." Hikaru looked around the room and pointed them out one by one. "Moskva, Tenryuu, Vestal, Glowworm… Where's Glowworm?"
Moskva curled a lip. "She went out on anti-sub."
Abyssal subs are generally low-level; even short of 100, Glowworm can still pop one per depth charge run. Blowing up fish—that's her old specialty.
"She can't go charging tomorrow," Hikaru frowned. "Below 100, the enemy can script for her—one encirclement and she's sunk."
[End of Chapter]
[100 Power Stones = Extra Chapter]
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