Reincarnated with the Country System

1900 hours

...

Group Admiral Devgan Arvata stood on the upper deck of the Divine Ram, the last great ship of the Indiana fleet. A faint silver dome of magic shimmered above and around them. It was the final barrier—fifty ships joined together, their runes linked into one shield. The glow trembled every time a Bernard missile struck it.

Below the deck the crew worked in silence, faces pale and wet with sweat. Priests knelt at every corner, chanting to keep the barrier alive. Sparks of blue light ran across the planks with each word of their prayers.

Devgan felt the deck shudder as another missile exploded against the shield. The barrier flared white, then dimmed again. He could feel the drain in his bones, a pull like the tide.

"Keep formation," he said. "Tell the priests the Empire stands as long as this wall stands."

The officer saluted and hurried away.

Far across the smoke-covered water, the Bernard navy held a perfect arc.

Inside the carrier Akagi, Admiral Akari stood in his command center, a dark figure in the cold light of screens. He listened to the final reports of the battle: Indiana's sky fleet gone, their last fleet trapped behind the barrier. He thought of the lives already spent and of the order from the Emperor Alberto—to end this war.

"Link to Main Command," he said.

The connection opened with a soft chime. A calm voice answered from the mainland control center.

"Admiral Akari. Status?"

"Indiana fleet remains inside barrier. Request orbital support. Authorization for full strike."

A pause, only static and the low hum of electronics.

"Orbital strike is confirmed," the voice said at last. "Two satellite platforms in geosynchronous position. Weapons ready."

Akari's eyes stayed on the tactical display. "Target coordinates transmitted. Fire on my command."

"Coordinates received. Time to firing window, nine minutes."

Akari closed the channel. "All ships, pull back three kilometers. Maintain barrier screens. Prepare for orbital resonance impact."

"Aye, Admiral," his officers replied.

The Bernard ships eased backward, wakes glowing under the moon. Their shields brightened to hard blue.

On the Divine Ram, Devgan saw the movement and felt the change in the air.

"Admiral," a sensor mage said, voice shaking, "something is rising. Far above the clouds. I cannot read it. Power beyond the upper runes."

Devgan looked up. The stars were faint through the smoke. Then he saw two new lights, white and steady.

"What is that?" whispered a priest.

A low vibration ran through the hull, through the water, through every bone.

In orbit, two Bernard war satellites turned their mirrored panels toward the sea. Inside each cylinder, a core of condensed energy—Resonance Nova scaled for planetary strike—began to burn.

Akari watched the countdown. "Mark the Indiana barrier. Synchronize."

"Synchronization complete," said the weapons officer. "Orbital release in three… two… one."

High above the world, the satellites fired.

For a heartbeat the night stayed silent. Then a column of pure light fell from the sky. It had no color, no edge, only a blinding radiance that swallowed cloud and smoke. The sea lit white as if a second sun had been born.

The first impact struck the barrier.

The silver dome flashed and screamed. All along the Indiana fleet men clutched their ears as the magic howled. Runes shattered like glass. Ships rocked on sudden waves. The priests fell to their knees, blood running from their eyes.

Power flowed from every ship into the great shield. The dome brightened again, but the second strike came before the first ended.

Another beam plunged from the stars. The ocean exploded upward, water turning to steam in an instant. The heat hit like a giant's hand, lifting ships and slamming them back down. The barrier fractured, silver lines splitting like cracked ice.

The third pulse descended. This time the barrier shattered.

A sound like a mountain breaking tore across the sea. The silver dome burst outward in a ring of sparks. At once the Bernard fleet opened fire. Hundreds of missiles launched in perfect rhythm, streaking through the smoke. Rail cannons fired with deep metallic booms. The sky filled with trails of fire.

The first missiles hit a dreadnought on the outer rim. The ship vanished in a blossom of flame. Another struck a spell-tower, breaking it in two. Fire spread from deck to deck. Men leapt into boiling water.

The Divine Ram shook as near misses pounded the sea. Devgan barked orders, steady and sharp. "Return fire! All lances, all guns!" But most of their weapons were gone or broken. A few rune-lances fired, blue beams cutting through the dark, striking a Bernard destroyer and setting it ablaze. It was a small wound against a wall of steel.

A missile slammed into the port side of the Divine Ram. The blast threw Devgan to the deck. Smoke and flame burst from the hull. Men screamed. The ship tilted as water rushed in.

He rose, blood on his face, and stared across the water.

Another salvo came. The Divine Ram's forward tower disintegrated. Fire raced along the deck. The smell of burning wood and iron filled the air.

"Abandon ship," shouted his first officer.

Devgan looked at the men around him—soldiers, mages, sailors who had fought since dawn. "To the lifeboats," he said at last. "Save who you can."

He remained as they fled. The deck under his feet was hot as a forge. He walked to the bow where the barrier once shone and looked toward the enemy. The copper sky burned red in the west.

A final missile struck amidships. The world became fire.

The Divine Ram split with a roar that drowned the sea. Flames shot into the night, then the ship slid beneath the waves, leaving only smoke and floating embers.

Across the ocean the last Indiana ships were dying. Some exploded outright, others burned until they rolled and sank.

Admiral Akari watched. "All Indiana contacts eliminated," an officer reported. "Sea secure."

Akari closed his eyes for a moment. "Transmit to High Command. Engagement complete. Northern Ocean under Bernard control."

"Aye, Admiral."

On the dark water only wreckage remained—burning timbers, overturned hulls, the silent forms of men and beasts drifting with the current. The smoke thinned as night winds carried it away, revealing the cold stars above.