"Captain Creuset."
On the Nazca-class Battleship Vesalius, Creuset's adjutant held the battle report he had just received.
The sheet of paper, usually light as a feather, now felt as heavy as a mountain in his hands.
Under Creuset's gaze, the adjutant struggled to find the right words.
"Where did Serman get his intel?"
The question was rhetorical. Having traveled from the Collapsed Satellite toward the Eurasian Federation's fortress for so long without spotting the "Long Legs," Creuset would have been a fool not to realize his mistake.
Otherwise, his renowned reputation would have been utterly undeserved!
"I was wrong. The enemy must be heading toward the United Forces Lunar Base."
Graceful and composed, Creuset openly admitted his tactical error in front of the entire bridge crew, unconcerned about any potential damage to his authority.
Watching their captain acknowledge his mistake with such dignity, the rest of the bridge crew couldn't help but admire him even more, seeing him as a leader of great responsibility.
However...
Amid the sea of admiring gazes, only Creuset's adjutant and communications officer still wore troubled expressions.
"What's wrong?" Creuset's brow furrowed beneath his mask. What was with these two?
Could it be...?
Sensing a grim possibility, Creuset didn't wait for the adjutant to speak.
He strode forward, snatched the paper from the adjutant's grip, and scanned its contents in an instant.
"Serman's battleship was sunk? And his entire force was wiped out in such a short time?"
The sparse words on the page left Creuset momentarily dazed.
"That fool!" He crumpled the pristine paper in his fist, the metallic tang of blood rising in his throat.
"Captain Creuset..." The adjutant studied Creuset's mask. Though it concealed his face, the adjutant knew his captain well enough to imagine the storm beneath.
Carefully, he offered consolation, "This isn't your fault, nor is it Captain Serman's. It's the Allied Forces—those cunning bastards played us for fools."
"Who could have guessed they wouldn't flee but instead launch an attack on us?"
"Truly, no one saw this coming."
After speaking, the adjutant watched Creuset's motionless figure with growing unease.
Glancing back at the bridge crew, he saw their hopeful eyes fixed on him. With no other choice, he steeled himself and pressed on.
"Captain, should we turn around immediately? At the Nazca-class's speed, we might still intercept the Allied Forces' Long Legs and support our allies."
"No." Creuset swallowed the blood in his throat—was his condition worsening again?
Dismissing the thought, he waved off the adjutant's suggestion.
"Captain, then what do you propose?"
The adjutant stared at his superior's gesture, suddenly reminded of the earlier incident when the satellite collapsed and he had advised Creuset.
Back then, the captain had similarly waved him off—only for his old comrade, Captain Serman, to meet his end.
Glancing at his adjutant's peculiar expression, Creuset truly hadn't anticipated that such disrespectful thoughts were running through his subordinate's mind.
"They'll turn around." After careful consideration, Creuset thoroughly analyzed the supply reserves aboard the Archangel.
With that ship's provisions, there was no way it could sustain a journey to the United Forces Lunar Base.
Therefore, Wang Hu's attack on Serman was merely a feint—they would inevitably turn toward the Eurasian Federation Space Fortress Artemis!
Only there could they obtain sufficient supplies to sustain the ship and replenish enough crew to fully operate it.
"But?" The adjutant hesitated as he looked at Creuset's resolute expression. He couldn't shake the feeling that his commander might be mistaken.
Yet Creuset's formidable reputation and long-standing track record made it difficult for the adjutant to openly voice his dissent.
Caught in a dilemma, the adjutant was spared further agony when Wang Hu abruptly ended his internal conflict.
"Crane Flight sunk!"
"Tibet Dance sunk!"
"Yoshi sunk!"
Three consecutive casualty reports echoed through the silent bridge, arriving at irregular intervals.
Each carried the same grim message: allied battleships, dispatched per Captain Creuset's orders to intercept the Archangel along its route, had failed and been destroyed instead.
"All of them were sunk single-handedly by that Wang Hu." Trembling and drenched in sweat, the adjutant stared at the three thin sheets of paper in his hands.
He genuinely wished he could faint—at least then he wouldn't have to hear these despairing battle reports anymore.
Standing motionless, Creuset resembled a statue carved from stone.
A straight line.
The coordinates from the reports clearly traced a direct path—straight toward the United Forces Lunar Base.
"Wang Hu." Creuset's low voice rumbled, suppressing his rising agitation.
"Do you intend to fight your way all the way to the lunar base? What about supplies? How will you solve the supply issue?"
If Wang Hu were standing before him, Creuset would demand an answer to this critical logistical problem.
Modern warfare wasn't like ancient battles fought with just a horse and a blade—it was a complex, multifaceted endeavor.
"No guns, no cannons? The enemy will make them for us?"
Hearing his commander's muttered frustration, the adjutant quietly hummed a line from an old song.
"Hmm?" Creuset sharply turned his masked gaze toward his adjutant, his eyes piercing and dangerous.
Swallowing hard, the adjutant realized this was the first time he'd seen his captain look so terrifying.
"Captain, do we continue waiting here?" Tugging nervously at his collar, the adjutant mustered the courage to ask.
"Full 180-degree turn. Set course for the enemy United Forces Lunar Base route."
Locking eyes with his adjutant, as though shedding an immense burden, Creuset finally relented.
He chose to turn around, pursuing the Archangel—and Wang Hu—at maximum speed.
Relieved that his commander had abandoned his stubborn stance, the adjutant exhaled deeply and hurried to relay the new orders.
Just as Creuset's ship began its turn, aboard the Archangel—victorious in four consecutive battles that day—
Inside the battleship, every compartment was filled with joy in the face of Wang Hu's astonishing combat achievements.
Even the people rescued from the escape pods in the living quarters felt that the ZAFT Forces stood no chance of sinking this ship after witnessing such feats.
"Hahaha, truly worthy of being called the Qilin of East Asia! The Fangs of the Alliance!"
"Exactly, exactly! The one who shattered the Coordinators' dreams—the world-renowned strongest Natural! Captain Wang Hu!"
"No helping it. After all, this time the Coordinators are up against the East Asian Army, whose sole pursuit is absolute strength."
"And Captain Wang Hu stands at the pinnacle of those who have dedicated their lives to power within the world's strongest East Asian Army!"
"Mhm, mhm! In my eyes, the strongest man on the planet is none other than Captain Wang Hu!"
"The Hexagon Warrior, the flawless Imperial Tiger! With Captain Wang Hu here, this battleship is as steady as a mountain!"
Such remarks gradually spread from the living quarters throughout the entire battleship, escalating until—
"Captain Wang Hu has returned!"
"Hurry, hurry! Clear the way for Captain Wang Hu—the Captain needs rest!"
"Hey, you idiot! What are you standing there for? Can't you see the Captain is coming? Go fetch water for him now!"
"Isn't this a bit excessive?"
Watching the maintenance crew swarming around Wang Hu in the hangar, Mu, who felt subjected to emotional neglect, didn't even know where to begin his complaints.
"No, Captain Wang Hu deserves this treatment," Kira beside him delivered another crushing blow.
After saying this, like an ardent fan spotting their idol, Kira also rushed over.
Leaving Mu alone, withering in the wind.
--Support me in Patreon for more chapters 35+ chapters in there
patreon.com/LegendaryTL
Thanks!