In order to avoid losing what little face he had left, Kashchey recalled the proportions Jeanne had used during her previous Holy Water dilution tests and began mixing the solution, aiming to maximize its effectiveness.
Beside him, Emperor's Blade Number 25 was breathing deeply, occasionally sneaking bites of his portable dry rations and enjoying his rare moments of "human" life. Some things, perhaps, are only truly cherished once they are lost. After all these years, Number 25 was once again tasting food and feeling the bite of the snow and the crisp, cold air.
Unfortunately, even though he could finally taste his food again, the dry rations he carried were still utterly repulsive. Couldn't the traditional Ursus military rations be improved even just a little?
"I've narrowed it down to a few potential ratios suited for this environment, but they still require testing. By the way, how exactly do you plan to spray the water down there?" Kashchey asked, ignoring the fact that the man beside him was eating dry rations with a "mask of pain." Doesn't this ship have supplies? Can't you just sneak some? You're an Emperor's Blade; wouldn't filching some food from the warehouse unnoticed be a basic skill?
"We plan to test it with this useless piece of junk, and simultaneously see just how much of an effect the Holy Water has on the Demons."
As he spoke, the Emperor's Blade pointed toward the southeast of the landship's deck. Parked there was a sizeable object that looked like a genuine antique.
It appeared to be a plane once used for agricultural irrigation—completely devoid of any offensive capabilities. In modern Terra, such a thing was virtually useless. Because Terra's atmosphere was saturated with Originium dust, an airplane engine would suck in these particles upon startup; over time, this would inevitably lead to a crash.
If it weren't for the extreme complexity and maintenance costs of Terra's sky, Ursus would never have abandoned weapons that could secure air superiority. After all, no one wanted to spend a fortune developing a weapon only to have it crash after a few uses. Who would be foolish enough to waste money like that?
"So it's this thing... I remember it was dug out of a ruin many years ago. It wasn't dismantled for research?" Kashchey found it somewhat strange that Ursus still had a complete airplane. In his memory, the planes unearthed by Ursus had been proven worthless, kept only for the study of their metallic structures before being melted down as samples. He hadn't expected one to remain intact, let alone that they intended to make it fly.
Maintaining such a plane wasn't as simple as just leaving it in storage. To keep it flight-ready, it required monthly maintenance and a rigorous annual inspection. Consequently, aside from wealthy collectors with eccentric hobbies, few factions kept functional aircraft, as they were simply unsuited for the current era.
"A few were in the hands of the Research Institute, and it wasn't easy getting this one back from those fellows. Even with His Majesty personally intervening, it took quite a bit of persuasion."
The Emperor's Blade looked at the plane. Ursus had always hoped to reverse-engineer technology from these ancient tools—something as usable as Laterano's firearms. Unfortunately, those hopes were destined for disappointment. Despite years of research, Ursus had achieved no major breakthroughs beyond material sciences.
At that moment, soldiers were injecting the Holy Water—diluted by Kashchey—into the airplane's water tank. After countless years, this antique, which had weathered the storms of time, was finally returning to its original profession.
"But who is going to fly it? Have you already figured out how to operate it, or do you assume that because I'm an expert in other things, I know how to handle this?" Kashchey looked at the plane, curious about the pilot. Given how long it had been since the thing was last started, the difficulty of making it move was unimaginable. Even the erudite Kashchey knew nothing about its operation; since the technology was considered valueless, he had never bothered to learn it.
Furthermore, the thing ran on oil! Ursus hadn't developed any technology related to fossil fuels, as Originium energy was far superior. If they hadn't retrofitted the energy structure to run on Originium, they wouldn't have been able to get it off the ground.
Fortunately, the flight skills required for a crop-duster weren't as difficult as those for a fighter jet. It wasn't that hard for Ursus to master; it just required practice. As it happened, a few Ursus soldiers had managed to learn how to take off and return safely after a period of training.
Kashchey watched as three brave Ursus soldiers, their faces showing no fear, entered the cockpit to begin this historic operation.
"Take off!"
At their captain's command, the plane roared into the sky. The crowd watched as it dwindled to the size of a matchbox, the soldiers on deck breaking into a cold sweat for their comrades. Perhaps because of the Originium retrofit, the probability of an accident had risen exponentially; every successful return was now considered a blessing from the gods.
Kashchey and Number 25 watched intently as the plane neared the designated location. They stood in silence, full of hope, climbing the observation tower to witness the coming scene.
The sight of the plane flying toward the battlefield was also noticed by the soldiers fighting the Demons below. Since not everyone knew what an "airplane" was, many warriors kept a wary eye on the black bird in the sky, wondering what it was about to do. If their superiors hadn't told them to ignore the aircraft, their first instinct would have been to try and shoot it down.
The plane flew over the battlefield like a white dove. Its pristine white paint stood in stark contrast to the pitch-black Demons below, an eyesore in the dark landscape.
Even though it was still far away, the Demons seemed to sense something. Those not directly engaged with the army stopped focusing on the troops on the ground. Many Demons began accumulating power within themselves; the ominous black substance surrounding them thickened, giving the impression of shells ready to be fired.
In response, the larger Demons extended their tentacles, lashing out at the aircraft, clearly intending to knock it out of the sky before it could get any closer.
"All units, fire at will! Dump every shell you have! Stop them at all costs—don't let them hit that aircraft!"
Inside the central landship, the commander of the battle roared in a raspy voice. Though he wasn't an Emperor's Blade and couldn't feel the strange sensation emanating from the Demon flesh within him, he could tell that the plane carried something those monsters loathed!
If that was the case, he was willing to sacrifice his own life and his subordinates' ships to ensure the aircraft completed its mission. He wanted these Demons to know the meaning of fear!
Every landship turret activated simultaneously, systematically bombarding the Demons on the ground, forcing them to use their strength to defend against the barrage. Though some energy orbs were still fired by the Demons, the distraction created enough space for the aircraft to dodge and cross the final stretch.
The moment the landships' firepower was exhausted, the plane successfully reached the airspace above the battlefield. In the next instant, the secret weapon it carried was sprayed down through the nozzles.