Central Cander on February 3rd, the fleet of the Imperial Navy under the Royal Mirishial Navy was in the Casabnca sea region.

  The weather the next day was rather cool, with moderate waves and a deep blue sky. The sunlight illuminated the sea, breathing life into the entire region. Leading the mighty fleet was the fgship Zeroth, the Mithril IMS Colebrand. After a day of sailing, they reached the conflict zone. Additionally, continuous updates on IMS Friso ensured its presence in the area.

  "IMS Friso is still there, and those vilins have yet to make a move to sink the IMS. It's strange... Are they hesitating?" Admiral Cromwell pondered upon hearing the reports from IMS, but there was no significant change in the situation reported by the other side.

  "Perhaps IMS Friso and its crew are being held hostage to gain the most favorable conditions... Indeed, such far-fetched scenarios never occur unless we're daydreaming. Accepting their terms is impossible given the scale of our fleet," Battista asserted, demonstrating that their adversaries cked the capability to resist against the overwhelming force that the emperor had dispatched. The shipbuilding capacity of Holy Mirishial was formidable, as they could produce 3 Mithril-css battleships and several dozen cruisers within a few months.

  During wartime, their shipbuilding capacity would operate at 100% capacity. Thus, constructing a light cruiser ship each day was a simple task, and completing the hulls of Mithril-css ships and outfitting them with weapons only took a few weeks. Therefore, if one Mithril-css ship was lost, there would be others to repce it.

  "Hmm... I will posit that if they come from an extraterrestrial area, they must have achieved some level of civilization," Admiral Cromwell posed a question to the fleet commander to initiate a discussion as they headed towards the conflict zone.

  Fleet Commander Battista responded cheerfully, "Indeed, I believe that those from uncivilized backgrounds reaching the MU level must have engaged in trade with other nations. In this case, they might have autonomously progressed to this level, which is quite worrisome!" The fundamental aspect of a nation's development is trade, expanding retions with other nations to gain access to technologies they ck. Holy Mirishial understood this well and always prevented their technology from leaking out.

  Then, there was a crackle on their radio, capturing everyone's attention. The command center suddenly fell silent. The voice on the other end began to speak, "Warning to the Holy Mirishial fleet, you are entering the sovereign waters of the Kingdom of Morocco. Crify your intentions and alter your course. This is a measure to ensure the safety and security of the maritime zone."

  Admiral Cromwell retorted, "Your waters, huh? How tedious..." The other side cut him off, preventing him from completing his response.

  "If your ships do not comply with instructions, it will be considered hostile action, and defensive measures will be taken immediately! We give your fleet a few hours to decide!" The stern stance of the Royal Moroccan Navy was evident in their voice as they addressed the Zeroth fleet.

  Upon hearing this, Commander Battista angrily replied, "The Holy Kingdom has offered conditions for peace to the Royal Moroccan Empire! If you agree to the terms, both sides can avoid conflict and move towards peace. The simple condition is that the Holy Kingdom demands Morocco to withdraw from the sovereign waters of the Holy Kingdom. If your side does not comply, the Emperor will be compelled to take military action!"

  On the other side, there was no response. "I hope the outcome will be their withdrawal," Admiral Cromwell expressed his attitude. After a long silence, the Moroccan side announced, "Your conditions have seriously infringed upon the interests and sovereign waters of Morocco! We, the Royal Moroccan Armed Forces, are compelled to take defensive measures against the Holy Kingdom!"

  The fleet commander chuckled with satisfaction. "So these fellows are standing against the Holy Kingdom, something unprecedented. On this occasion, we shall witness the might of the Holy Kingdom's navy..." Battista was proud of the Zeroth fleet, believing they could easily crush Morocco, indicating that the officers of the Holy Kingdom had been blinded by their imperialist reputation, never recognizing the strength of their opponents or viewing it as a threat to the Holy Kingdom.

  "Launch all Alpha-3 fighters and Beta-2 bombers! Prepare the fleet for combat readiness! The Holy Kingdom's navy will fulfill His Majesty's mission!" Battista ordered the entire fleet.

  On the flight deck of the Rodeus-css aircraft carrier, sailors hurriedly prepared to unch the aircraft. Countless fighters were lifted onto the flight deck, with the carrier's elevator capable of accommodating two Alpha-3s at a time. The Alpha-3s began to taxi into position for takeoff as directed by the flight deck officers.

  "Move forward a bit, okay stop! Begin Alpha-3 checks," one of the flight deck officers shouted. Inside the cockpit, pilots conducted checks; if any technical issues were found with their accompanying equipment, they would be grounded.

  "Left wing checked! Right wing checked! This is ECF-15 of Squadron 2, requesting clearance for takeoff!"

  "This is RATC-2 tower, ECF-15 cleared for takeoff!" After receiving clearance from the air traffic control tower, the Alpha-3s began to accelerate, lifting off the carrier's deck. The powerful engines of the Alpha-3s, operating on the carrier, enabled them to clear the flight deck without the need for catapults, although this significantly reduced the lifespan of the engines.

  The Alpha-3s, along with those freshly unched, ascended into the converging skies, forming up with their squadrons.

  Currently, there were four squadrons totaling 64 fighter jets, with each squadron comprising 16 Alpha-3s. Additionally, there were two Beta-2 bombers per squadron, bringing the total to 72 aircraft. Leading the sixth squadron was Elf, the commander of the Albesige squadron. "Good morning, gentlemen, today the sky is clear, and the weather is beautiful. Above all, our mission today is to teach those fools called Morocco how to respect the Emperor. Don't worry, the world's strongest air force will easily dominate them!" His voice boosted the morale of the young pilots, with an upbeat and positive tone. After all, it was their first combat sortie.

  Commander Albesige was an outstanding elf at the Royal Air Force Academy of the Holy Kingdom. He was considered one of the best young pilots from the academy, with superior dogfighting skills, a serious work ethic, and leadership abilities. He served in the air force for 4 years before transitioning to carrier-based flight for the past two years. Albesige's Alpha-3 bore the nickname Wolfer.

  All four squadrons formed a V-shaped formation, flying ahead of the fleet, creating a spectacur scene in the sky. Albesige announced, "Well, then let's pn ahead before approaching the enemy airspace. Pn A, we'll take on 10 to 1 if the enemy has fewer aircraft. Additionally, there's Pn B, in case we encounter overwhelming enemy numbers, where all squadrons will disperse and efficiently attack the enemy enticed by our fighters. Pn C, this is an arming scenario if the enemy has advanced equipment and, consequently, fewer aircraft, we'll have to disperse and attack specific targets, not giving them time to choose prey." Albesige's combat pn was retively straightforward and understandable to everyone, but he devised Pn C to cope with adversaries with superior equipment, a potential threat.

  This could be understood for Albesige because the Holy Kingdom had never faced a stronger force, and Albesige himself would be utterly helpless if he had to confront opponents with superior speed, weaponry, and technology.

  After a few minutes of flight

  They arrived at the area where IMS Friso was located. The armored cruiser y exposed amidst the vast ocean, in need of rescue. "This is the Royal Mirishial Fleet's air force, requesting a situation report from IMS," they radioed.

  "This is Captain Humes of IMS Friso, we have been disabled and require assistance," came the reply from the Friso vessel, as they noticed the enemy making no move against the disabled cruiser. Albesige responded to Humes' request, "The Zeroth fleet is approaching, please maintain continuous communication with the entire fleet."

  "Be cautious of these new foes, they could easily overpower you if you're not careful!" Humes spoke with a dreadful tone. Upon hearing this, Albesige shuddered, realizing they might be in the worst-case scenario he had feared. For Albesige, he trusted the commander's words, especially since he was the commander of the Mithril-css ship.

  Suddenly, intuition screamed for him to flee, but Albesige fought to maintain composure. He carefully observed his surroundings. "All reconnaissance squadrons, prepare for combat with the enemy," he ordered.

  Squadron 6's commander gnced to the right, where Squadron 8 flew. He stared for a moment, noticing pieces flying off the Alpha-3s, which began to disintegrate into debris in the air.

  "Contact! Contact! All units, break formation!" Albesige shouted loudly. They were taken by surprise by the enemy attack; Squadron 8 slowly disintegrated in a matter of seconds.

  "This is ECF-54! Squadron 8 has lost 5 Alpha-3s and 2 Beta-2s!" the panicked pilot excimed. Then, swooping past the left wing was the F-16, overtaking the Alphas flying at 650 kph. The F-16, slender in appearance but deadly, bore a red fg with a faint green star on its tail.

  "That speed is outrageous! Squadron 2 is overwhelmed!" Pilot ECF-23 yelled amidst the 20mm Vulcan gunfire of the F-16, as his Alpha-3 was torn apart. Flesh ripped apart in mid-air, mingling with the remnants of his aircraft.

  The squadron formations suddenly descended into chaos. "Don't panic, stay calm, pursue and fire upon them as they approach us, it's our chance!" Albesige attempted to reassure the pilots through the communication devices, but it was futile.

  Alpha-3s and Beta-2s began to continuously unleash fire at the 6 F-16s, desperate to turn the tables, engaging in a fierce battle. Initially, the fleet comprised 72 aircraft, but now, they had lost a third of their strength. The agility and prowess of the F-16 pilots completely turned the tide against the Holy Kingdom's fleet.

  Amidst the precarious situation, Albesige surveyed the battlefield, noticing aircraft with desert camo, smaller than the bulky sand camo ones and cking propellers. He had never known that Morocco possessed different fighter jets. Four F-5Fs, upgraded from the Nouasseur Air Base, entered the fray.

  "The enemy has reinforcements! Stop those lengthy transmissions, we need flexibility in combat!" Albesige's voice echoed through the radio.

  "Yes, sir!" All pilots shouted. In Squadron 2, Commander Hatto spoke up, "The enemy's new aircraft are slower than the rest!"

  The F-5Fs, flying at 1.2 mach, began to target the Alpha-3s. "They're aiming for our F-5Fs, Inshalh!"

  "We'll lend a hand, Alhu Akbar!" Muslim pilots began a fierce attack on the Holy Kingdom's aircraft.

  A pilot was closely pursued by the F-5F. "Agghhh!! Their weapons fire faster than our Alpha-3s!"

  "Damn it! We're losing one by one, do something, Albesige!" Squadron 2's commander, Hatto, called out.

  "At this case, we'll fail utterly without inflicting any damage on the enemy! Call for air support!" Albesige excimed, dodging the deadly Moroccan bullets.

  "At the very least, we should do something before being burned out of the sky!"

  A sudden thought popped into Albesige's mind. "This is a gamble we can make! ALL FIREPOWER ON THEIR SLOWEST FLYERS!! LET'S INFLICT THE MOST DAMAGE WE CAN!"

  The Holy Kingdom air squadrons began to change targets, no longer evading and completely directing all ammunition at the F-5Fs. Bullets rained down from dozens of Alpha-3s onto the F-5Fs. The first rounds hit the F-5Fs.

  "The right wing of NFAF-10 has been hit, Yalh!" Four F-5Fs quickly accelerated to escape the barrage from the Alpha-3s.

  "They're fleeing! Don't let this opportunity slip!" The Alpha-3 pilots were determined to take down the F-5Fs. Then, consecutive explosions echoed across the sky.

  Albesige noticed, "Magic explosives?! Where did they come from?! Could these vilins be deploying them while flying?!"

  "This is NFAF-1! Authorize AIM-9 fire!" The Moroccan squadron commander ordered the use of missiles against the Alpha-3s, causing damage to the F-5s.

  Fireworks erupted across the sky. Alpha-3s were destroyed one by one in mid-air by the metal shrapnel from the explosions.

  "There are javelins heading towards my pne! It..." Before finishing the sentence, it ended with an explosion, tearing the unfortunate pilot's aircraft into hundreds of pieces and engulfing it in fmes. This horrified the Holy Kingdom pilots. Albesige felt a pang of fear as he witnessed each comrade he had bonded with perish. "Retreat! Increase speed and return to the fleet as fast as possible..." He made the decision for the entire squadron to retreat in the face of impending doom from the enemy, but before he could utter the final words, his fighter erupted in fmes.

  Emerging from the smoke, the Alpha-3 plummeted from 15,000 feet and spiraled in the air. Wolfer gasped for air as he desperately tried to salvage the situation by pointing the aircraft upwards, but unfortunately, the Alpha-3 cked the ability to bance with one wing. He was helpless and resigned to his fate as his aircraft collided with the sea. The talented squadron commander from the academy had been tragically defeated, despite his efforts, only managing to inflict a few rounds on the enemy. "Squadron commander... Albesige has been eliminated from the battle! We must retreat immediately!"

  Currently, only 16 Alpha-3s and the entire fleet of Beta-2s remained in combat. The Alpha-3 squadrons retreated, but the Moroccan warriors refused to let them leave, relentlessly spraying high-speed gunfire at the unfortunate enemy aircraft.

  "Even in retreat, they show no mercy! Report to the fleet commander that the sky conquest pn has failed!" The survivors tried to communicate and report the situation after the battle.

  "We cannot allow these foreign terrorist barbarians to speak this nguage of terror that brings disaster upon our brethren. May you have mercy!" The Moroccan squadrons continued relentlessly hunting down the Holy Kingdom pilots until there was no one left in the sky, haunted by their atrocities against the Jewish people. The Moroccan pilots showed no remorse as they exterminated the Holy Kingdom pilots who were futilely attempting to escape.

  The Royal Mirishial Navy fleet, in the waters of Casabnca.

  The screams of the pilots echoed through the radio, catching everyone in the command tower off guard, mingled with fear. Admiral Cromwell excimed, "It can't be... One of the finest academy pilots... has fallen alongside the others..." Sweat streamed down his temples.

  The radar dispyed the desperate Alpha-3s fleeing from their pursuers, each green dot disappearing from the screen until only the Zeroth fleet remained.

  "Report on the damage?"

  "We've lost the entire air force!"

  "That's one of our most elite squadrons! It's impossible... for them to be decimated so swiftly!" Captain Herbert of the IMS Herbert carrier excimed over the radio. Witnessing the wholesale destruction of multiple squadrons in a single battle, the Holy Kingdom had never experienced such a one-sided massacre where the air force was annihited, making it an irrepceable loss.

  Battista was shocked and speechless, his subordinates immediately sensed his distress and queried, "Sir, what's the next order for the fleet?"

  "Deploy all remaining air forces to defend the sky for the fleet!" Battista ordered.

  "What?! Are you intending to send our remaining forces into battle?! Haven't you seen what happened in the st engagement?!" Captain Herbert of the IMS Herbert carrier angrily retorted. He had observed the disparity in power as the enemy swiftly crushed their squadrons without causing any significant damage to their own. It was understandable that he wanted to preserve the remaining pilots of the carrier.

  "Are you suggesting we retreat before the enemy, Captain?!" Cromwell interjected, adding tension to the conversation. This provoked Captain Herbert of the IMS Herbert carrier, who erupted, "Did I say we should retreat?! We've lost our entire elite squadrons, and what do you expect from a few fighter jets?! It was you who decred war, and now look at us!"

  "Quiet! Now is not the time to resolve conflicts. We have a massive problem here!" Battista silenced the room and the line on the other end.

  "Alright, we need to deploy all remaining squadrons as the eyes of God for this doomed fleet. With the enemy air superiority and our loss of all squadrons, we should use the fleet's power to suppress them as our st resort here. And we will press forward and destroy the enemy fleet and their floating bases. Losses are inevitable, but for the Emperor!" Battista spoke loudly. All activities focused into a unified front, no longer bickering.

  The remaining air squadrons took off towards the fleet. The armored isnds continued advancing towards the enemy military base. Despite suspicions about its ck of offensive and defensive capabilities, it remained unguarded.

  "Isn't that base too vulnerable to serve as a military outpost?" Cromwell wondered, surprised.

  "Sir, structurally it's not conducive for attack and defense, but according to experts, it's an enemy barracks." An officer expined. Cromwell was intrigued by this unconventional base, but found it odd that it was not supported by any surrounding isnds.

  "That's strange..." Cromwell became more suspicious based on what he had heard. Pcing a barracks in the middle of the sea made no sense if it had no weapons and nothing to defend itself except for the air and navy. If they wanted a barracks, wouldn't it be better to build it on a rge isnd or pce it on a rge ship with escort fleets?

  Suddenly, a series of arms bred throughout the room. "Report! Six objects approaching the fleet, and the numbers are increasing!"

  "What are they?!" Battista quickly inquired.

  "We're not sure yet! Speeds reaching 800 km/h, possibly enemy aircraft!" The radar officer responded.

  Battista frowned and began to worry. "Intercept them with whatever we have!"

  One by one, the warships fired their 20mm Ixion cannons towards the oncoming objects. Yellow bursts of gunfire continuously flew towards the approaching threat, yet the radar still showed their presence.

  "Have they been eliminated?!" Cromwell anxiously asked about the looming threat.

  "No, sir! The numbers are increasing, and they're still advancing towards our warships!" The radar officer reported, sweat dripping down his face. They didn't know if the enemy had a weapon called cruise missiles, something that could sink each of their mighty battleships into helplessness and despair.

  The communications officer sweated nervously. "The air force has identified the enemy, reporting cylindrical-shaped small aircraft, no pilots, and they continue to target our ships as if with consciousness!" Hearing this, Battista reconsidered the role and function of the enemy aircraft.

  Based on his specution, Battista realized this was the Arrow of Light attack. "Could this be the Arrow of Light?! The Holy Kingdom is only just beginning to implement them in their early stages! Who are these people?!" The situation deteriorated unexpectedly, with the new weapons from the Holy Kingdom, believed to be capable of flying based on coordinates, allowing the Holy Kingdom's fleets to attack the enemy from afar and on nd.

  The entire Zeroth fleet panicked upon realizing their futile efforts to counter the new threats, unable to do anything but watch as their fate was decided.

  Boommmm!!! x14

  A total of 14 cruise missiles from the Moroccan destroyers were unched, smming straight into the Holy Kingdom's main battleships. The roar of each missile echoed over the ocean upon impact. Horrific explosions occurred consecutively on the armored battleships and aircraft carriers, the vibrations causing waves across the sea. But the pride of the Zeroth fleet now sank into a sea of fmes.

  Several Mithril-css and Gold-css battleships exploded immediately after being hit by the incoming missiles. Captain Cromwell and Fleet Commander Battista were astonished by the sight, then a metallic object streaked towards them.

  "Brace for impact!!" The radar officer shouted loudly.

  Boommmm!!!

  The sound of explosions reverberated throughout the ships. Inside the command bridge, the room turned completely red with the wail of sirens, officers and commanders all stunned as their ship was struck by one of the cruise missiles. Battista quickly stood up, grabbed the microphone, and angrily demanded, "Damage report!"

  The radar officer hurriedly returned to his seat. "There's a rge breach in the engine compartment on the starboard side! The engine turbine has been destroyed! The IMS-Colebrand is no longer operational!"

  Battista grimaced as he realized his ship, like the IMS-Friso, was immobilized. Nevertheless, he pushed aside his frustration and continued his duties. "Seal off all compartments near the engine room! And report to me on the status of the remaining forces!"

  "The aircraft carriers IMS-Herbert, IMS-Kai, and IMS-Floren are combat ineffective! The IMS-Rolf has been hit by a mana surge! Three Mithril-css ships were hit in the ammunition storage but fortunately didn't explode, while the other two were not so lucky! We're awaiting reports from the remaining forces!"