Langley, BICH Headquarters

  Inside Mo’s quiet office, Mo sat perfectly still in front of his laptop, hands folded.

  On the screen, Stan was already connected to the video conference, also waiting.

  They waited.

  And waited.

  Finally, Solo’s window popped into existence.

  He leaned back in his chair tiredly like he’d just finished a very long argument.

  “Ugh… sorry,” Solo said, rubbing his face. “That took longer than expected.”

  Stan squinted at the screen. “What happened? I thought you already cleared the misunderstanding with Lilith?”

  “Oh, I did,” Solo nodded. “Then I went a little overboard explaining why I was right. Turns out that was… a mistake.”

  “Anyway,” Solo continued, waving it off, “what’s our situation?”

  “The video evidence has been sent to us,” Mo reported. “The operation also secured a complete list of every Goldenclaws sleeper cell embedded in Dwargonia, the Meridinian war plans for their next assault, access to literally every Goldenclaws database, and—” he paused, savoring it, “—we currently have the Goldenclaws leader in custody. King Baldrik.”

  Silence.

  Solo and Stan are silent, they visibly very impressed with the result. Just like what Mo wanted, showing splendid results that hopefully can make everyone forget about the process.

  “…Wow,” Solo muttered slowly. “Your agents basically found a treasure chest.”

  “Treasure—?” Stan froze, then his lips twitched. “…The misfits… PFFFFT—”

  Stan slapped a hand over his mouth too late.

  It trigger a chain reaction.

  Solo’s face contorted.

  “Pff… pff… PFFFT—”

  They tried to hold their laughter.

  But they failed.

  “BUAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!”

  Both of them exploded in laughter at the same time, leaning out of frame.

  Mo closed his eyes and rubbed his temples.

  So much for forgetting the process.

  “Heh… he… oh—” Solo wiped a tear from his eye. “I’m sorry, Mo. I really am.”

  “Yeah,” Stan added, also wiping tears, “no matter what, your agency worked hard to get all that ‘vital’ infor—”

  “BUAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!” Stan and Solo burst again because of Stan’s poor choice of words

  Mo sighed and groaned at the same time.

  ---

  Bashington DC, Pentagon

  A few minutes later

  “Hehe… hehe… ooooh,” Stan muttered, leaning back in his chair. “I haven’t laughed like that in a long time.”

  “Huff…” Solo exhaled, exhausted from joy. “Same. Anyway, we also secured the message. Stan, what’s the status of our messenger?”

  Stan straightened.

  “Tricky,” he admitted. “Levi and the Grand Marshal are a bit too deep in Dwargonian territory, and the distance to Hearthguard Cairn is… significant.”

  “But,” he continued, raising a finger, “we found a workaround. It’s in progress. They’ll arrive at Hearthguard Cairn tonight.”

  “And my agent there has already prepared a secure path to welcome them,” Mo added.

  “Please make it fast,” Solo said, his tone turning sharp. “I really don’t want to unnecessary kill Dwargonians anymore.”

  “Yeah…” Stan sighed. “I agree.”

  He shifted his gaze away from his laptop toward the massive command monitor dominating the Pentagon command center.

  Officers rushed between stations, voices overlapping, orders flying.

  The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

  The main screen showed a split image:

  Ravendawn’s fleet and Murica’s fleet cutting through the sea, racing to intercept the incoming Dwargonian armada.

  Another screen showed the enemy.

  The Dwargonian fleet was enormous. Larger than before. Better organized. More motivated.

  Prepared.

  Stan stared at it.

  “I totally agree…” he repeated softly, the joke gone now, the weight fully returned.

  ---

  Boulderhelm Base

  The sky above Boulderhelm Base was clear and beautiful. Peaceful, even.

  A seagull glided down from the heavens, landed gracefully, and decided that this seemed like a perfectly fine place to rest for a moment.

  “KEE! KEEEE!”

  The place disagreed.

  The seagull was violently scared off, flapping away in panic as a magical pickaxe stood proudly where it had just landed.

  Shawshank.

  The magical pickaxe was currently positioned at the very top of a Dwargonian hot air balloon, standing straight and proud like a lightning rod.

  “NO, SHAWSHANK! No one is picking on you!” Dwordoug’s voice echoed from below.

  In the passenger basket, Dwordoug and Levi stood shoulder to shoulder, craning their heads upward.

  “KEEE! KEKE KEEEEE!” Shawshank complained loudly, vibrating with magical indignation.

  “Because they said you’re the strongest material around here, and your shape is perfect!” Dwordoug shouted back, trying to sound reassuring. “Please be reasonable!”

  “KEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!”

  “Just be strong! It’ll be over soon!” Dwordoug yelled again.

  Shawshank continued crying in the background, but Dwordoug made the executive decision to ignore him.

  “Sigh…” He turned to Levi, voice dropping. “But Shawshank is right, Minister. Will this actually work?”

  “I have absolutely zero idea what Shawshank is saying,” Levi replied calmly, smiling. “But yes. This will work, council member.”

  “Ah… sorry,” Dwordoug muttered. “I shouldn’t say that when I’m the one who insisted on doing this.”

  “Oh my, don’t worry,” Levi said kindly. “You were right. If we simply went to another base to contact Hearthguard Cairn, there’s a chance Council Member Calgirra would sabotage us.”

  “Council member, you’re getting too low.”

  Mara’s voice chimed from the short-range mana-comm installed in the basket.

  “Please raise the altitude again.”

  “Copy that, Ambassador,” Dwordoug replied, flipping the burner control and blasting several bursts of fire into the balloon.

  The balloon rose obediently.

  “But it’s a good thing you know how to drive this thing,” Levi commented.

  “Hmph,” Dwordoug said proudly. “Even as an Axebreaker, we have to serve from the bottom of the military to prove our worth. This was the first vehicle I piloted when I started as a lookout.”

  “That’s enough, council member,” Mara’s voice chimed again. “Please keep it there. Pickup will arrive in thirty seconds.”

  “Roger that.”

  “Oh! Over there!” Levi said cheerfully, pointing.

  On the horizon, a gray aircraft with four propellers approached, cutting through the sky with unnatural speed.

  “Hmm…” Dwordoug muttered, squinting. “Interesting. It’s not as big as our airship, but it’s as fast as our fighters…”

  He continued studying the incoming C-130 Hercules while Levi casually stepped behind him.

  “Hmm, Minister,” Dwordoug said slowly, unease creeping in. “Why does it look like your aircraft isn’t slowing down?”

  “Hm?” Levi replied casually. “It can’t slow down more than that.”

  “…Why?” Dwordoug blinked. “Isn’t it supposed to pick us up?”

  “It is,” Levi said.

  Then, very calmly, Levi wrapped one arm around Dwordoug’s chest, while the other hand grabbed the balloon’s rope tightly.

  “That’s why we put Shawshank on top,” Levi continued with a pleasant smile.

  “M-minister?? Why are you holding me!?”

  “So you don’t fall,” Levi said gently.

  “Why would I fa—”

  WHRRRRRRROOOOOOOM

  The sentence was obliterated by the roar of engines.

  Dwordoug turned his head.

  His face went dark.

  The Hercules was already there.

  Too close.

  Behind it, a massive hook trailed through the air.

  The aircraft roared directly over the balloon with less than two meters of clearance.

  The hook slammed down.

  It embedded itself perfectly into Shawshank.

  SNATCH

  The entire hot air balloon was ripped from the sky and dragged forward, captured midair like an offering to physics.

  “AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!”

  Dwordoug screamed as the world turned sideways.

  “Keeeeee~”

  Shawshank, meanwhile, sounded absolutely delighted with the ride.

  ---

  Nearby Hill

  On a nearby hill, Mara sat beside the makeshift radio Cinderclaws had built earlier, a short-range mana-comm in his other hand. Close to him stood Cinderclaws, Hilda, and several Boulderhelm soldiers, all staring at the same impossible sight.

  The hot air balloon was being dragged through the sky.

  By an airplane.

  “…It’s a good thing I didn’t get rid of that old spy balloon,” Hilda muttered, lowering her telescope.

  Cinderclaws didn’t blink. “This transport of yours,” he said slowly, “will it be able to bring them to Hearthguard Cairn before the assault begins?”

  Mara did some math in his head.

  “They should arrive… in five or six hours.”

  “What?!” Cinderclaws snapped.

  Both he and Hilda turned to Mara at the same time, clearly alarmed.

  “That fast?!” Hilda echoed.

  “I think so…” Mara said, “I’m sorry, I’m not that proficient with military equipment.”

  At that moment, the radio crackled with static.

  “Peregrine, come in,” a voice said. “Package secured. Thank you for the assistance.”

  Mara leaned in, closed his mouth to the microphone, and replied calmly:

  “This is Peregrine. You’re welcome. And good luck.”

  He released the mic.

  “Sigh…” Hilda whispered, watching the distant aircraft shrink into the horizon. “Be careful, Dwordoug…”

  ---

  Hot Air Balloon

  Meanwhile, inside the hot air balloon, reality had completely collapsed.

  Wind blasted from every direction, tearing at ropes and cloth. The balloon no longer resembled a balloon at all — it looked like a plastic bag stuck on a moving car.

  But somehow, the Dwargonian hot air balloon held together.

  “I THOUGHT IT WOULD STOP FIRST WHEN IT PICKED US UP!” Dwordoug screamed at Levi, his words nearly torn away by the wind.

  Levi, using his demon duke strength, held Dwordoug casually with one hand, preventing the dwarf from becoming a splatter on the ground below.

  “Aahaha, I’m terribly sorry,” Levi replied cheerfully. “This airplane cannot stop midair.”

  “THEN ARE WE SUPPOSED TO BE LIKE THIS UNTIL WE REACH THE CAPITAL?!” Dwordoug yelled.

  “Oh, of course not,” Levi said politely. “That would be a very unpleasant flight.”

  He glanced upward.

  The Hercules’ rear bay doors were opening.

  From inside, several plane crew members leapt out, each attached to cables, swinging through the sky like extremely professional lunatics.

  “Speak of the devil,” Levi said with a smile. “Here they come.”

  The suspended crew reached them, grabbed Levi, Dwordoug, and Shawshank in a practiced motion, and pulled all three upward into the aircraft.

  Moments later, they were safely inside.

  The bay doors closed. The hot air balloon was released.

  The Hercules climbed higher and higher, ascending to an altitude no Dwargonian airship could reach.

  FWOOOOSHH

  Then two F/A-18E Super Hornets slid into formation beside it, escorting the transport all the way toward its destination.

  Hearthguard Cairn.

  cult group and have fun commenting your heart out on the reply section.