The Divine Throne of Shipgirls

"Message from the East Sea—at 17:27 today, the Abyssal flagships Akagi and Kaga launched a full-scale surprise assault on Okinawa Base, coordinating with Abyssal flagship Zuikaku, Taihou, and Ryuujou.

Over 4 million Abyssal shipgirls were deployed, and more than 3 million aerial sorties were launched. The frontline forces collapsed. Supreme Commander has fallen in battle. The Okinawa Islands have fallen!"

The Marshal gripping the telegram trembled all over, cold sweat pouring down his face. He looked ready to faint.

The First Island Chain— the strongest barrier against threats from the Pacific—has fallen!

The faces of every Commander in the room turned ashen.

Four million Abyssal shipgirls sounded like an enormous number, but in truth, it was only a drop in the ocean of the Abyssal forces. The number a flagship could command depended entirely on her strength.

It was a simple math problem. In China alone, about 5,000 new Commanders were commissioned each year. Let's say after ten or twenty years, one-fifth of them were seasoned—then that's 1,000 veteran Commanders. If each of those veterans could eliminate just 100 Abyssal a year (a very conservative estimate), that would be 100,000 per year. Multiply that across the nation's tens of thousands of experienced Commanders, and the Abyssals lost not just millions, but hundreds of millions each year.

Yet even just four million Abyssals had crushed the main forces of the East Sea.

And this wasn't the only catastrophe.

"Urgent report from the East Sea: our forces have lost all ability to contain Akagi, Kaga, Taihou, and the other Abyssal flagships. The enemy may push south at any moment to encircle our main forces in the South Seas. All commands must proceed with utmost caution!"

"The Abyssal Barbarossa Corps is advancing in full force. Abyssal Tirpitz, Bismarck, and Monitor are leading armies from the west, east, and center in a pincer attack. Our forward corps cannot hold. Requesting immediate air cover for retreat. Urgent!"

All eyes turned to Fleet Admiral Gorou, waiting for his command.

Gorou was hunched over the war table, staring at the map now littered with enemy flags—each one a symbol of an advancing Abyssal fleet. He said nothing.

Seconds ticked by.

The command hall grew increasingly tense.

Every second of hesitation was one more chance for the front to collapse. And with three million Abyssal forces now loosed from the East Sea, it was as if the guillotine blade was hanging over their necks, ready to drop.

"Fleet Admiral, we can't continue. We must retreat, at least for now!"

"That's right. The East Sea has already fallen. We can't hold the line alone. We need to pull our forces back."

"I say we withdraw from Qiongzhou Island, and fight a scorched-earth war with the Abyssals!"

Wakayama leapt to his feet, jabbing a finger at the Senior Marshal speaking.

"Withdraw?! Call it what it is—abandoning territory and sacrificing troops! If you want to run, go ahead! I'd rather die in battle than live with the shame of betraying our country!"

"That's enough!"

The command hall was on the brink of devolving into chaos when Gorou slammed his fist on the table, sending a loud crack echoing through the room and punching a hole into the heavy wood.

He swept his gaze across the stunned Commanders like a lion, then drew the blue flag representing the frontline command and planted it right in front of the red flag marking the Abyssal Barbarossa Corps.

"You have your orders. Execute Plan Zero. All forces, advance. Engage Abyssal Barbarossa in full battle. Send a telegram—no retreat, and no surrender. Hold the line!"

Every Marshal and Senior Marshal present was stunned into silence.

"Gorou, are you just going to sit back and watch the vanguard be annihilated?! Thinking of a decisive battle at this point? This is treason!"

"We don't have a single chance of winning!"

"I propose a vote of no confidence! The Fleet Admiral's mental state is clearly compromised!"

But Gorou straightened his back, his hair and beard bristling like steel. An overwhelming pressure erupted from his presence, sweeping across the entire hall.

The Fleet Admiral roared.

"With the East Sea lost, we must not retreat. One step back—and there's nowhere left to die!!"

Everyone was stunned into silence by the sheer force of his will. Not a single word came out of anyone's mouth.

Yamato lit a cigarette. "Then tell me—how do you plan to win?"

Gorou ground each word out from between his clenched teeth:

"One. Man. Rides. And. Breaks. A. Thousand."

[End of Chapter]

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