Ludger was trying to tell her something.
Seridan’s eyes shone with a brilliance they had never held before.
Instinctively, she realized that the knowledge Ludger was about to impart was the very key that could lead her to the ultimate explosion she longed for.
Ludger had no real desire to tell Seridan this.
Just looking at modern history alone was enough to understand what kind of change the world went through once the Manhattan Project had succeeded.
But now was no time to conceal it.
He had to use whatever was available.
“What I can tell you is only the theoretical part. The rest, you’ll have to figure out yourself.”
Perhaps it was the last braking mechanism left in his heart that made him say this.
But Seridan nodded vigorously, saying that it was enough.
With her shining talent, just this small clue would be enough for her to reach her goal.
No, she would likely surpass it and go even farther.
“Time is short, so I can only explain this once. Listen well.”
* * *
The construction of the airship progressed in an instant.
In reality, just building one would take more than a week.
And that was assuming every detailed component was prepared, with the environment and manpower perfectly in place.
But in Dreamland, it did not even take five minutes to create one.
All the materials were formed by Dreamwalkers, and the design was drawn up on the spot by Seridan and Brino.
“A °• N 𝑜 v 𝑒 l i g h t •° typical airship lifted by gas won’t do. It needs to fly much faster.”
“What about making it in the shape of an enlarged biplane?”
“With this size, propellers would take up too much space. The output would be weak. We need a fierce propulsion system.”
“We won’t need mana stones. There are no restrictions like that here. Whatever it is, burning fuel to cause a powerful thrust will be optimal.”
Seridan and Brino worked seamlessly together.
They exchanged ideas without resting for even a second.
They were both brimming with talent and passion.
Rather than oil and water, they were like volatile chemicals—every exchange of ideas sparked new inspiration in their minds.
The waves of thought even manifested faintly in the air as shimmering haze visible to others.
Even the Dreamwalkers, who had forgotten the gravity of the situation, looked on in awe.
“To minimize air resistance, we should make the bow sharp.”
“It needs to carry a lot of people. To be precise, it should resemble a battleship flying through the sky.”
“We should attach propulsion devices to both wings and the rear.”
“Once outside, we can create an engine structure that draws oxygen in from the front intake, combusts it, and expels it to the rear.”
If a scientist had been present, or anyone deeply versed in science, they would have foamed at the mouth.
Because in just five minutes, science had been advanced by decades.
And in that same five minutes, a massive ship was complete.
A warship with wings, made of steel.
Main cannons were mounted everywhere, and the prow was forged into a sharp ram, resembling a giant blade.
Everyone longed to marvel at its might, but now was not the time.
“Everyone, board!”
“Civilians and students, step back!”
No matter how big it was, the number of people it could carry was limited.
Those able to fight climbed aboard.
“Please let me come! I can help too!”
Julia pleaded, but no one accepted her request.
“No.”
The one who rejected her was Zantman.
“Why not?!”
“You’ve already done more than enough. From here on, this is an adult’s fight.”
“You’re still treating me like a child?”
“That’s right. You’re still young.”
Julia flared up at Zantman’s words, about to shout back—until she heard what he said next.
“And that means you still have a bright future. To drag someone like you into a battle we might not survive would make us failures as adults. And before that, it’s advice from a senior.”
“......Then you’re saying it’s fine for the others?”
“Of course. We don’t intend to die. But look at us—how many years do you think we have left? Without us, who will lead the Dream School?”
Zantman had always spoken to her in a teasing way.
That she was still lacking, that she had to keep working harder.
And every time, Julia had ground her teeth and shown results that even Zantman couldn’t deny.
Driven by the thought of proving just how much he refused to acknowledge her.
“You’re the only one, Julia.”
But now, seeing him smile at her warmly as he spoke, she realized.
She had been acknowledged from the start.
“...You know, senior, you’re really unfair.”
Julia regretted not realizing this sooner.
The most precious things were always the closest.
She had neglected the people she lived with, her family in all but blood, just to chase after a departed friend.
How foolish.
“And you, Sedina Roschen, was it?”
“Yes.”
Zantman nodded toward Sedina, who stood with Julia.
“I told you before, but I’ll ask again.”
“I...”
Sedina bit her lip, then nodded.
She too wanted to fight alongside Ludger.
To be by his side, to endure hardships together.
If only she could see again the sight she had witnessed before the World Tree.
But in this situation, that was just greed.
She had already spent her strength, and Julia was just as exhausted.
“Yes. Don’t worry.”
Zantman smiled in satisfaction and climbed aboard the ship.
From afar, the Dreamwalkers of the Dream School showered him with reproach.
“Damn it, Zantman! Why are you trying to play the cool guy all by yourself?!”
“Always pretending not to care, and now you get sentimental? You’ve never been honest.”
“If the ones already dead saw this, they’d be rolling on the floor laughing.”
Laughing as they scolded, and laughing as he replied.
“Shut up, you bastards! Are you all ready?!”
Like hell they weren’t.
With their booming reply, Zantman turned to Clara.
“Master. We’re all ready.”
“Yes. So it seems. Everyone else as well.”
At Clara’s signal, the Dreamwalkers began breathing dream-essence into the ship.
The vessel born of imagination was fueled by their dreams.
Red flames spewed from the twin jet engines and the rear exhaust vents.
The red fire crystallized into droplets, gradually shifting into a blue hue.
The warship lifted into the air.
Impossible with modern technology, but entirely feasible in the world of dreams.
“Oooh! It’s really moving!”
“What should we call this? Not an airship—more like an aerial battleship.”
The aerial battleship surged toward Noxanna.
Noxanna was gripping the obelisk that pierced her chest, trying to pull it free.
Each time her tarry black hands touched the obelisk, blue flames burst forth.
At first, the seal of the obelisk repelled her palms, but over time, the situation shifted.
Noxanna was growing stronger, but the seal’s power remained the same.
The force that once flung her hands away now barely managed to resist, and before long, it began to permit her touch.
If it went on, the seal would soon be undone.
At that moment, the aerial battleship’s main cannon fired.
BOOM!
Shells blasted from the long barrels, striking Noxanna’s body in multiple places.
Scarlet explosions engulfed the goddess’s form, and eyes widened in shock at the sight.
“Wahaha! How’s that! The taste of my special bombs!”
Seridan let out a triumphant cheer, as though she had been waiting her whole life for this moment.
Building the aerial battleship was fine, but what truly thrilled her was the explosion.
She had mounted the battleship with cannons just for this.
The cannons fired again, pulling Noxanna’s attention away from the seal.
“The goddess has noticed us!”
She couldn’t ignore it while trying to undo the seal—it was far too irritating.
Black smoke like storm clouds spilled from Noxanna’s body.
But it wasn’t smoke.
It was a grotesque creature formed of clumped, tarry blackness.
Where arms should have been, wings sprouted. On their legs were talons like a bird of prey.
Their smooth, egg-shaped faces had only mouths—long, torn maws like the jaws of beasts.
“Dream creatures!”
Franz cried as he looked at the black beasts.
The dream creatures summoned by Noxanna swarmed like storm clouds toward the aerial battleship.
Individually they weren’t much, but the sheer number was overwhelming.
It was like watching tens of thousands of sardines swimming together in the sea.
“W-wait! Isn’t this way too many?!”
“Intercept them first!”
The ship’s cannons roared, and missiles mounted on the wings launched in unison.
Trails of smoke streaked toward the black swarm, exploding on impact.
BOOM-BOOM-BOOM.
Red explosions of various sizes burst within the mass.
But even after the blasts subsided, the tide of creatures showed no sign of thinning.
Screeeech!
The creatures lunged with gaping maws.
Those on the deck scrambled to intercept.
Dazzling spells exploded across the sky.
There was no missing—any shot would strike a target in this swarm.
Each spell cut down dozens at a time.
But still, they came. And came.
Hopelessly outnumbered.
Even with relentless fire, the dream creatures pierced through and reached the aerial battleship.
CRUNCH!
“Ah, no! My cannon!”
Three of the creatures shredded a cannon with claws and fangs.
Seridan screamed at the sight of the ruined weapon.
And that was only the beginning.
The creatures began ramming the ship with their bodies.
Every impact reduced them to black pulp, but they didn’t stop.
Creatures born of a goddess’s will knew no fear of death.
With each suicidal strike, the battleship’s hull caved in further.
“Damn it! They never end!”
“At this rate, we’ll crash!”
Kill ten, and a hundred filled the gap.
Never in their lives had they seen such a flood of numbers.
The same for Ludger.
Not since Jévaudan had he faced such a swarm.
That battle too had been overwhelming with cryptids, but compared to now, it was nothing.
The sky was filled with creatures, and now they were pushing the battleship back.
The Dreamwalkers strained desperately to keep it upright.
“Starboard cannon down! More than half are destroyed already!”
“Engine Two offline! Output falling! We can’t hold on much longer!”
Each report from Seridan and Brino only deepened the despair.
If this endless battle dragged on, defeat was inevitable.
“Cease fire!”
Ludger’s voice, laced with mana, boomed across the deck.
If they stopped firing now, the ship would sink under the assault—so why?
Before anyone could question it, Ludger moved.
Mana and dreamstuff manifested around him, forming into dark steel cubes.
“That is...”
Franz’s eyes widened, recognizing the magic.
The cubes multiplied, attaching to the damaged ship and repairing it.
No—more than repairing, they reinforced it.
Elisa shouted in realization.
“Stop firing! Save your strength!”
Zantman too understood what Ludger was doing, his eyes gleaming as he nodded.
“So that’s it! Hey, you bastards! Channel every drop of dreamstuff into propulsion!”
“What? If we do that, we’ll sink!”
“Do it! Otherwise we’re all dead!”
“To hell with it!”
The engines, fueled by Dreamwalker essence, roared with renewed fury.
The number of cubes grew, swarming like ants around the ship.
This spell wasn’t originally his.
It was the strongest magic of a man who had laid down his life to save a friend.
“Eleméntum Ex Machina.”
It appeared once more, in Ludger’s hands.
“Infinítus Circĕn.”
The countless cubes spun in endless motion, obeying Ludger’s will.
The prow of the ship had been shredded by the creatures.
Now steel cubes stacked atop one another, forming a new shape.
“Magnetar Sword.”
A massive blade formed at the prow.
It looked as if the battleship itself had become a sword.
