I formed a closed network using Telepathy Net, linking it directly to Benimaru, Gobta, and Testarossa.
At the same time, I activated Thought Acceleration, stretching my perception of time to its limits. In the span of a heartbeat, entire strategies could be discussed, refined, and executed. On a battlefield like this, hesitation was death.
‹Report. What is our next move?›
I did not ask lightly. Even as the King of Games, war was not won alone. Benimaru was my general for a reason.
‹At present, Gabil's unit is moving to engage the enemy tank division from the air,› Benimaru replied without delay. ‹I want Gobta's unit to intercept from the ground and execute a pincer attack.›
I narrowed my eyes.
‹That is a dangerous maneuver.›
‹Correct,› Benimaru answered immediately. ‹But Gabil will draw their attention. Once the tanks focus upward, Gobta's unit will break through. Their firepower is overwhelming—but their mobility is not. This is a calculated risk with a high probability of success.›
A bold call.
But not a reckless one.
We had already confirmed that the aerial speed of Gabil's Hiryuu and Wyvern Riders exceeded the rotational speed of the tank turrets. As long as they kept moving, the guns would not track them in time.
A direct charge, however, was another matter entirely.
Gabil, naturally, showed no fear. If anything, he seemed eager.
As long as you're airborne, the guns are manageable, I thought. And Gabil's confidence borders on madness—but it has carried him this far.
Then there was Gobta.
‹A-are we… charging straight in too?› Gobta asked, voice tight.
‹You will be the decisive blade,› Benimaru replied mercilessly. ‹Once you penetrate their formation, they will hesitate to fire for fear of hitting their own. When Gabil begins the diversion, you run through them at full speed. Do not slow down.›
An oni's order, through and through.
‹W-we'll do it while using Shadow Step, right?› Gobta asked weakly.
Benimaru shook his head.
‹No. That would be suicidal. The enemy likely has layered countermeasures—monster detection, anti-Skill barriers, interfacial magic. Shadow-based movement is the first thing they would guard against. A frontal assault is paradoxically safer.›
I agreed.
Their tanks were treasures of the Empire. There was no chance they lacked defensive systems. If Gobta relied on tricks, he would be trapped—or erased.
Testarossa spoke next, her tone calm and precise.
‹Legion magic includes interfacial barriers. They prevent intrusion from alternate spaces, but they can also seal and immobilize those inside. As Benimaru-dono stated, a direct assault minimizes risk.›
That settled it.
Gobta swallowed audibly.
‹I-I understand. If… if Testarossa-sama agrees, then I won't complain.›
He was terrified.
And frankly, I understood why.
He had insulted a primordial demon to her face earlier. Survival alone had been a miracle.
I chose that moment to speak.
‹Gobta. Remember this well. Never judge strength by appearance. That lesson will save your life—again.›
That warning applied to more than just him.
Even I had once underestimated beings like Testarossa.
‹…Y-yes. I'll remember.›
Good.
Benimaru glanced at me afterward.
"So, that's what you were referring to earlier?"
"Yes. A misunderstanding on Gobta's part."
Benimaru smirked faintly.
"He's grown, but some lessons require pain. Experience teaches better than mercy."
Then his expression sharpened.
"Still… the ones Diablo brought. Especially the three women. Their presence is… abnormal."
As expected. Benimaru had noticed.
I had allowed them in. He trusted that judgment—but curiosity remained.
I did not answer directly.
"…I'll explain another time."
He accepted it with a shrug.
"This is not the moment for such discussions."
Correct.
‹Gobta. This is war. Reflection comes later. Return alive first.›
‹Yes!›
‹Any remaining questions?›
‹None, Benimaru-san. We'll move to the forest edge and charge once Gabil-san engages.›
‹Good. Then move.›
‹Yeah!›
The fear was gone from Gobta's voice.
That was enough.
I ended the Telepathy Net.
Minutes later, the Third Corps struck.
"Gah-ha-ha-ha! Witness my brilliance!" Gabil's voice echoed across the battlefield as he struck an absurdly dramatic pose midair.
I grimaced.
Please survive.
But his confidence was not misplaced.
The tanks struggled to respond. Their turrets lagged behind the aerial assault exactly as Benimaru predicted. Gabil's command was sharp—every unit moved in flawless coordination.
The Hiryuu were excellent, but the Wyvern Riders impressed me most. Their discipline and maneuvering had clearly been forged through brutal training.
Fireballs rained down—not to destroy the tanks, but to disrupt infantry and draw fire.
Textbook air-to-surface harassment.
Then—
Gobta moved.
There was no hesitation. His unit charged with thunderous speed, wolves pounding the earth as one.
Beyond the five hundred tanks facing them stood fifteen hundred more aimed toward Dwargon. If Gobta pierced the line, the enemy would be forced into chaos.
The Empire reacted instantly. Infantry rushed to intercept.
They died instantly.
The wolves tore through them without slowing.
One hundred meters.
Six seconds.
Shots rang out—but wide. Panicked. Useless.
The Imperial formation was breaking.
Ranga led the charge, Gobta astride him, a living spearhead. Gobta locked eyes with Gobchi, who rode just behind him.
A nod.
Gobchi leapt.
He hurled a small, glowing red object into the open turret of a tank.
A Spirit Core.
An empty Core forged by Kurobee, overcharged with fire mana by Charys.
I had named it simply:
Flare Bomb.
A heartbeat passed.
Then—
The tank detonated from within.
"Yes!" Veldora roared. "Just as expected!"
I allowed myself a sharp smile.
The design worked. Internal detonation bypassed every external defense.
The battlefield erupted.
Gobta's unit surged deeper, striking tanks, ignoring infantry, tearing through blind spots with terrifying momentum.
On the command screens, their movement was almost beautiful—deadly precision wrapped in chaos.
"They've done it," Ramiris muttered. "The tanks can't fire freely anymore."
"Not yet," Benimaru replied. "Do not relax. A ruthless commander may still order fire, allies be damned."
He was right.
And above—
The Empire's air units were accelerating.
If they reached Gabil, Gobta would be isolated.
It was a race now.
I straightened, power coiling quietly beneath my calm exterior.
The opening moves were complete.
The board was set.
Gaster glared at Gobta and the others advancing toward him, irritation boiling just beneath the surface.
These bastards are getting carried away.
Moments earlier, Testarossa, her pure white hair fluttering calmly amid chaos, had planted fear deep into his chest. Gaster refused to acknowledge it. To recover his shaken confidence, he chose the simplest solution—crush Gobta and his unit completely.
There was no way, he believed, that these monsters—good for nothing more than disrupting formations—could seriously damage tanks, no matter how fast they moved.
That belief shattered instantly.
An explosion roared across the battlefield.
Gaster's eyes widened.
You can't be serious—!
He swallowed the words before they escaped. A commander never showed agitation on the battlefield. No matter what.
Gaster straightened his posture. He was still a brilliant strategist. He hadn't lost control.
"Lieutenant General, what are your orders?"
"Don't panic," Gaster replied coldly. "Observe the enemy carefully. They've destroyed only a single tank and made no attempt to follow up. That proves the weapon they used is a limited trump card."
"I see… If that's the case, you're right. Otherwise, the flying lizards would've already scattered them everywhere."
"Exactly."
Gaster nodded, convinced by his own reasoning.
But his conclusion couldn't have been further from reality.
In truth, Atem had prepared three thousand flare bombs.
Each member of Gobta's Goblin Riders carried ten. Gabil and his Hiryuu carried ten each as well. Gabil's unit deliberately refrained from using them—they were acting purely as a diversion. More importantly, they understood something Gaster didn't.
Explosives reached their true destructive power in enclosed spaces.
The same principle applied to flare bombs.
And Benimaru, executing Atem's will with absolute precision, had made one thing clear:
The tanks were the priority—not the soldiers around them.
No flare bomb was to be wasted.
Victory mattered more than immediate results.
Gobta, Gabil, and every monster under their command understood this without needing further explanation.
Gaster, unaware of all this, regained his composure with a silent pep talk.
So you revealed your new weapon without hesitation. Admirable.
But victory belongs to us.
He had misjudged their trump card—but he correctly grasped their objective.
You ignored the left-wing battalion to crush this one, didn't you?
If that's the case… then we have plenty of ways to deal with you.
Gabil's aerial assaults were flashy but ineffective, neutralized by a magical barrier. The only true threat was the new weapon.
Which meant the solution was simple.
Keep Gobta's unit pinned down.
"Deploy a concentrated air-battle formation."
The adjutant stiffened in shock.
"Lieutenant General, that's extremely dangerous! Our troops are intermingled with the enemy. Friendly fire—!"
"What of it?" Gaster snapped. "If they're in the way, then they'll be blown apart by our tank guns. The Imperial Army has no need for incompetents who hinder victory."
"Wha—?!"
The adjutant could say no more.
A few tanks. A large number of infantry.
Sacrifices were inevitable.
But the battle would be won.
And a commander required the resolve to make such decisions.
"Is there any legal issue with my order?"
"No, sir."
The staff concurred.
Gaster activated his Skill and issued the command directly.
‹Left-wing battalion, assume concentrated air-battle formation.›
The response was immediate.
Ignoring those already entangled with Gobta's forces, the remaining tanks blocked the road and rotated their turrets. Others joined rapidly, forming a structure that defied all conventional military doctrine.
"What the hell—?!" Gobta shouted.
The tanks pressed together, massive frames eliminating every gap. Mobility was sacrificed—but escape routes vanished with it.
Then the formation expanded outward.
A circle.
A barricade.
Gobta and the Goblin Riders were sealed inside.
Half of the central force advanced next. Tanks floated upward, rotated midair, and landed atop the front row, creating a vertical wall.
Nearly a thousand tanks merged into a single, monstrous fortress.
Gobta's route to the central unit was completely severed.
"I knew they could do some crazy maneuvers," Gobchi muttered, stunned, "but this is on another level…"
‹Suppress enemy movement! Machine-gun barrage!›
A three-dimensional storm of bullets erupted.
High-speed movement—the Goblin Riders' greatest advantage—was crushed under relentless fire.
They were surrounded by tanks and Imperial troops alike.
But Gaster didn't care.
"This is bad," Gobta growled. "At this rate,
Benimaru's plan—no, His Majesty Atem's plan—falls apart."
Imperial soldiers were being cut down by their own allies, and it only added to the pressure.
In the skies—
"Sorry, Gobta! We can't break through!" Gabil shouted.
Even if tank cannons couldn't hit them, machine guns could. Gabil's unit was completely pinned.
Now that Gaster had regained control, sheer numbers began to dominate the battlefield.
And then—
‹Apologies for the delay, Gaster-dono!›
The Air Assault Division, led by Major General Farage, arrived with one hundred airships.
Gabil's unit was forced to divert their attention.
Gobta's situation worsened instantly.
‹Farage… finally. Then this is checkmate,› Gaster said calmly. ‹A perfect chance to test the top-secret weapon: the Magic Canceler.›
‹Haha! I can't compete with your timing, Gaster-dono. We'll join immediately.›
‹I'll share the credit. Don't make mistakes.›
‹Understood. Best of luck.›
The alliance solidified the battlefield beyond recovery.
For Gaster, it ensured absolute certainty.
For Farage, it was a chance to prove the Air
Assault Division's worth.
With their arrival, Eterna's forces were pushed further into disadvantage.
Gobta felt it immediately.
"Commander Gobta, orders?!"
"This is bad… We pull back. Now!"
‹Correct decision. Don't force a mission when the tide turns.›
Benimaru relayed Atem's command without hesitation.
The retreat was instant.
They attempted to escape using Shadow Step—
—but failed.
"Gobta," Ranga warned, "magic interference. Shadow Step is blocked."
The Empire had deployed a wide-area magic obstruction.
Only Ranga could break through.
The rest had no choice.
"Everyone! Run for the forest—full speed!"
Two hundred meters.
Normally seconds.
Now—it felt endless.
Gunfire chased them relentlessly.
Gaster watched, smiling cruelly.
"Prepare the tank guns."
You won't escape so easily.
The special shell was loaded.
Fired.
It detonated inside the forest ahead, flames erupting violently.
Their escape route burned.
Gobta and his men dodged the shell—but not the inferno.
"This is bad…" Gobta muttered. "Think we'll make it?"
"Don't joke like that, Gobta-san!" Gobto laughed. "With me here, everyone's getting home!"
"Your confidence makes me feel dumb for worrying," Gobta snorted.
"Even Corps Commander Gobta worries?" Gobchi teased.
"At best, he's thinking about dinner—or how to apologize to Rigur for sneaking out with His Majesty Atem."
Laughter echoed despite the hopeless odds.
And Gaster heard every word.
Inferior fools.
You think humor will save you?
His eyes locked onto Testarossa.
She stood amid heat and explosions, perfectly calm.
Unfazed.
Unthreatened.
You mocked me.
I'll break you.
Gaster didn't realize it—but his judgment had already collapsed.
His expression twisted with obsession.
‹All remaining units—fire!›
A thousand turrets rotated.
Point-blank range.
Anti-shock protections engaged.
The muzzles aligned.
A single, overwhelming volley was about to erase everything—
And yet…
Far away, unseen, Atem observed through Solarys, Sovereign of Wisdom.
His crimson eyes were calm.
Cold.
Calculating.
The King of Games did not panic.
He did not underestimate.
And he did not lose.
The Empire had just sealed its own fate.
The steel coffin was closed.