Deployment

Gilbert stood, patting Adam's leg lightly before stretching.

"Yeah, that's all you're getting," he muttered, walking toward his room with his blazer over his shoulder.

Kean shot to his feet. "Wait! Did you guys at least kiss?" He latched onto Gilbert's arm, eyes pleading like a child waiting for a bedtime story.

Gilbert ignored him, brushing past.

Just as he reached the door frame, he hesitated, just for a second. Then, glancing toward Anastasia, he spoke.

"Ana… you were right."

With that, he stepped inside, letting the door slide shut behind him.

Anastasia sat frozen, her lips parted slightly, but no words came. Even after the door closed, she remained silent, staring at the space where he had stood.

"I'm sorry," she whispered to the closed door softly.

*****

The gathering point hummed with quiet anticipation as the members of, White Horn Company waited for their major. The air was thick with expectation, low murmurs, and the occasional clink of armor plates as soldiers shifted, adjusting their gear.

"What do you think our first mission will be?" Vivian asked over the squad comms, her voice carrying a mix of curiosity and impatience.

"Probably more low-tier Stygian hunting," Kean muttered, his voice dripping with disinterest. "Same old, same old."

Vivian scoffed, shaking her armored head. "Please. You think they formed a special company just to exterminate more beasts? Any squad could do that."

Kean folded his arms. "And what makes you so sure it's different?"

"Alright, settle down. We'll know soon enough." William said, cutting in.

The squad settled, but not because of William's words, because Major Cade had arrived.

He strode into the gathering point, clad in his full power armor, an imposing presence that demanded silence. The black plating mirrored the rest of the company, but his bore striking white, red, and gold embellishments, of ancient Celtic motifs woven into the design like relics of his past battles. His helmet, adorned with two pairs of marble-like horns, reflected the unit's insignia.

A hush spread through the room, tension thickening like mist before a storm as the knights in the company straightened in alert.

"White Horns, listen up," Major Cade's voice cut through the gathering like steel. "We are deploying to the Mediterranean. An advanced unit of Stygians has devastated the region, leaving much destruction in their wake. Our mission is simple. Wipe! Them! Out!"

He let the weight of his words settle before continuing. "There is a high chance we will encounter a Seneschal. If you don't know what that means, check Pantheon, your clearance has been updated, effective immediately."

As Major Cade finished speaking, alerts flashed across the HUDs of those without clearance. Gilbert, along with the rest of his squad, except for Vivian and Chen Mei, instinctively checked their updated files.

That was when they realized the truth: Stygians were more than mindless beasts.

They were ruled by noble families, hidden puppet masters orchestrating chaos from the shadows. Beneath them, their servants carried out their bidding, ensuring their dominion extended far beyond the battlefield.

And at the top of those servants stood the Seneschals.

They weren't just powerful enforcers. They were infiltrators, agents of their noble masters who slipped unnoticed into Federation territory, carrying out their orders with precision.

"Okay, I feel like a frog at the bottom of a well," Kean muttered, taking a deep breath.

"You are a frog at the bottom of a well," Vivian shot back, her tone dripping with mockery.

Kean gave her a flat look. "I don't like you. You know that, right?"

Before Vivian could respond, a booming voice cut through the chatter.

"Attention!" Major Cade's command rippled across the field like a force unto itself. "White Horns, move toward Landing Bay D."

Without hesitation, Major Cade led the company forward, one platoon at a time.

As they arrived at the landing bay, the war machines awaited them, eight Ronin-class corvettes, their streamlined black hulls bearing the White Horns insignia, minimalistic yet unmistakable.

Gilbert followed his platoon, stepping toward one of the corvettes. As he waited for his board turn, his gaze lingered on the ship's clean, angular design. Precision-made for rapid deployment. No excess, no ornamentation, just pure, functional lethality.

Then, his attention shifted.

Beyond the corvettes loomed the Drakkar class cruiser, its sleek, elongated hull standing in stark contrast to the smaller ships. Chiseled details ran along its surface, ancient runic engravings etched into its plating.

Etched near its side, a name stood bold against the polished armor:

Ivory Sentinel.

Major Cade, along with two platoons, loaded into the cruiser's bay, his presence dwarfed by the scale of the warship.

Gilbert exhaled slowly, then stepped forward, leading his squad into their assigned ship. The red lights give the ship a dreadful atmosphere. Stepping in, he locked himself into his seat. As the last member of their platoon filed into the ship, the doors closed.

There was a sudden vibration when the ship's engine started, and as they took off, the lights in the cabin then went green.

Gilbert exhaled slowly, then stepped forward, leading his squad into their assigned corvette. The dim red lights bathed the cabin in an ominous glow, casting stretched shadows across the walls.

He slid into his seat, locking himself into position. Around him, his squad followed suit, the faint clicks of restraints securing into place punctuating the silence.

As the last platoon member filed in, the doors sealed shut with a low, mechanical hiss.

A sudden vibration trembled through the hull as the ship's engines roared to life.

For a brief moment, weightlessness gripped them before stabilizers engaged.

The cabin lights flickered once, then turned green.

The leader of their platoon walked to the center of the ship, drawing everyone's attention,

"Attention, everyone." His voice carried through the cabin with crisp precision. "I am High Knight 3A1, 2nd Lieutenant Edward Atkinson, and I will be leading this platoon."

He took a measured breath, turning on his spot, looking at each knight.

"Our position designation is Platoon 5, we will be behind Platoon 1 through 3. Our primary responsibility? Handling high-tier Stygians and neutralizing any servants that slip through the initial assault."

His gaze swept across the gathered troops. "Your sergeants will oversee each squad's tasks upon landing. Follow their directives, keep formation tight, and stay sharp."

With that, he turned and strode toward the cockpit, leaving no room for hesitation.

"Gilbert isn't that the High Knight from our first practical class?" Kean asked once the lieutenant had left, his voice tinged with recognition. Gilbert glanced at him, then went to wipe his sword with measured precision.

"Yeah, that's him. But he's not the only familiar face." He nodded toward the far side of the bay. "Aisling's and Askel's squads are here too." At his word, many members of his squad look across, looking at the IDs. 'Alert! Arriving at the Greek sector in two minutes! Alert! Arriving at the Greek sector in two minutes!'

The blaring alarm echoed through the cabin as the Pantheon system announced its imminent approach. Overhead, the aeronautical chart flickered, shifting to a live video feed of the outside, an endless expanse of sky giving way to a small town on fire below, overrun by styx.

Gilbert exhaled, eyes locked on the screen.

"Alright, guys, look alive," he said. The fleet rained destruction below, the aerial bombardment tearing through the landscape, carving fire and debris into the earth.

Then, amidst the chaos, the Ivory Sentinel descended.

Its thrusters roared as it took point, leading the fleet into the conflict. The ground shuddered beneath its landing, kicking up clouds of dust as platoons moved into formation.

Then, the enemy emerged.

Large stygians Tier I and II, led by a humanoid figure wearing a helmet with metallic fingers. Without hesitation, it led the beast, attacking Platoons 1 and 2, forcing them into retreat under suppressive fire.

Major Cade advanced.

He didn't hesitate. With a single strike, he unleashed a kinetic blast, raw force rippling through the enemy ranks, scattering them back like broken marionettes. The battlefield trembled in response as he strode forward. As the dust cleared, the humanoid Stygian stood unmoved—an energy barrier shimmering around him, shielding him from the devastation. The field pulsed faintly, its surface distorting like charged glass.

Cade didn't hesitate.

His thrusters ignited, launching him forward in a blur of momentum. His armored fist struck the barrier with crushing force, the shield rippled, then fractured, breaking apart in a surge of flickering energy.

Without missing a beat, he seized the Stygian by the neck, metal against metal, and hurled him with brutal strength. The impact sent the enemy smashing through the skeletal remains of nearby buildings, concrete shattered, steel beams twisted, fire sparked in the wreckage.

Cade advanced.

Before long, Gilbert's Corvette touched down.

"Go! Go! Go!" High Knight 3A1's voice rang out as he took the lead, his squad charging forward onto the battlefield.

As Gilbert stepped onto solid ground, his HUD flared to life—

'Knight 141, lead your squad 100 meters east—Tier II Styx.'

"Alright, guys, move out. Kean." Gilbert's voice was sharp, commanding.

"On it," Kean responded, already surging ahead. His new scouting module, marked by the twin antennas extending from his helmet, fed real-time reconnaissance data directly to Gilbert's HUD.

Kean sprinted ahead, his sensors sweeping the terrain, mapping out potential threats and ensuring no Styx lurked unseen.

The squad fell into formation, and William surged to the front, leading their advance. Behind him, the three girls kept tight positioning, their movements sharp and controlled. Gilbert and Adam held the rear, keeping watch for anything unexpected. As they moved, they ran into a few low-tier styx, which they took out with brutal precision.

Then, Kean's latest scan fed into Gilbert's HUD.

An image flickered to life, a fox-like Styx, its fur a burnished shade of rust, giving it the appearance of worn metal. Its tails coiled like strands of copper wire, and its paws gleamed with an unnatural sheen, as though dipped in molten alloy.

Gilbert narrowed his eyes. Okay, stay calm, you do this.

"Light him up." Gilbert's command was sharp, precise.

His shoulder-mounted assault rifle barked to life, unleashing bursts of fire as the rest of the squad aimed. Tracer rounds streaked through the air, but the fox-like Styx moved with unnatural agility, twisting, weaving, slipping between the onslaught as though anticipating every shot before it was fired.

Then, William surged forward.

The blade of his spear glowed crimson, pulsing with charged energy as he lunged, aiming to impale the creature. But the Styx was too fast, its lithe movements carried it effortlessly past the strike, its copper-like tails coiling before it lashed out.

The force of the blow sent William hurtling backward, until, in a flash, Gilbert's energy shield snapped into place. The impact rippled against the barrier, dispersing force but still shoving both of them back.

Gilbert gritted his teeth. This thing isn't playing around.