The Hungry Fortress Wants to Build a Battleship in Another World – World of Sandbox

“Marine radar, nominal.”
“Alpha-Class Destroyer, First Squadron—Eighth Ship Hotel: ship silhouette confirmed.”
“Synchronization with optical sensors complete.”

“Calibration complete. Severe-weather operation check remains pending.”
“Tactical link with The Tree is green. Severe-weather operation check likewise pending.”
A nine-ship fleet held its ring formation and continued on course. Final checks were underway: validation of various sensors and comms, radar-accuracy trials using the Alpha-Class—items impossible to conduct inside the dock.

“Good, good. Weapons test status?”
“Yes-affirmative, Commander Ma’am.
We will conduct controlled fire directed by the flagship Panas’s tactical AI.
All per-ship functional tests are complete.
Going forward, we plan weekly live-fire tests of each main gun.”
“If only some pirates would show up—we’d have ready-made targets…”

“Pirates have likely withdrawn from this now-stagnant sea-lane—or been annihilated.
They will avoid the waters around Lepuitari, where the navy conducts regular patrols.
Most likely they have shifted farther east, beyond the Forest Kingdom of Levresta.”
At present, on the northern continent, observations extended only from the Kingdom of Lepuitari in the west to Levresta in the east. The Swift solar recon drones had limited range, and wider surveys had been a lower priority. Now that Lepuitari’s national power was largely quantified, stronger reconnaissance could be justified.
“We don’t know how hard Lepuitari will resist, but… it can’t be helped. And prepping a target hulk would be wasteful…”
“Yes-affirmative, Commander Ma’am.
Test results are favorable.
Both strategic and tactical AIs have been updated with feedback from prior operational experience, so extensive concern is unwarranted.
In the worst-case scenario, all ships will scuttle; afterward, aircraft from Fortress No. 2 will conduct air strikes.
In that case, conquest of the United Kingdom of Aphrasia will be deferred and we will occupy Lepuitari instead.”

“That’s truly worst-case. Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that… Though even then, just seizing the resources around their capital puts us in the black—tolerable, I suppose.”

On resource balance alone, even that worst case posed no disadvantage to The Tree.
But such a course would mar future relations with the world. Viewed by outcomes alone, they would be the vile armed group that razed a hegemon’s capital without parley.
“At present, non-scientific techniques—those beyond prediction—remain within acceptable bounds.
Lepuitari’s development hinges on steam power, which aligns closely with Earth history archived in the library.
Our predictive confidence for their responses is therefore high.”

Magic—this world’s fantasy variable.
Fortunately—or not—northern magic-tech appeared limited. The Forest Kingdom of Levresta remained uncertain, but for Aphrasia and Lepuitari, consideration was minimal: lighting fires like a lighter, tossing explosive fireballs in lieu of guns—at most that level.
Science readily substituted for all of it. Nothing exceeded Ringo’s projections.

“However, literature and theater frequently recount the feats of great magi, and legends of ‘heroes’ who destroyed nations. Too near to be mere myth—and our own observations of monster species corroborate anomalies. Caution is warranted.”
From surrounding nations’ data, magic itself need not be feared—yet creatures like Rain Croyne and Serqet undeniably existed, overturning common sense. Thus Ringo assessed that the nations they’d contacted simply happened to have low magical development. Levresta warranted special caution: aerial entry was blocked, reconnaissance lagged, and it could become the chief obstacle during any advance into Aphrasia.
“Well, we’ll handle that as it comes. Still, when I remember the top-tier tech in World of Sandbox…”

“Yes-affirmative, Commander Ma’am. Players who built interstellar civilizations possessed technology beyond present reproduction. We had only just begun to step across that threshold.”
“Right—we were about to open interplanetary routes. If we poured in resources now, we could build a degenerate reactor. Though at this stage the production energy would overflow and blow us to bits.”
“Yes-affirmative, Commander Ma’am. It’s a sensitive power plant—demands great care.”

“And then… physical shields, active stealth, beam rifles? With more resources we could probably develop them, but I can’t think of a use-case here.”
“Atmospheric employment imposes constraints.
Physical shields must suppress reactions with air molecules; beam weapons suffer heavily from atmosphere and gravity.
Active stealth also cannot ignore environmental noise. On a planetary surface, all impose prohibitive burdens.”
“Mm. What bugs me is that those giant organisms seem to use physical shields as if it’s nothing—feels cheating.”

“Yes-affirmative, Commander Ma’am.
‘Cheating’ is… an apt expression.
We face multiple technological singularities to realize such defenses, yet they skip the steps and manifest protective membranes with unknown principles.
Rain Croyne even employs them underwater without issue—an outright over-technology.”
All foundational technical data existed in the library. With sufficient resources, Ringo could reproduce it.

But the costs were astronomical—many projects required pulverizing an asteroid just to build the production base.
So long as they remained surface-bound, those branches were off-limits.
“We’d also need to synthesize elements not found in nature. Not happening soon… In the game, if resources clustered around the base, we could brute-force it.”
“Seizing the northern continent would alleviate such concerns.”

“I told you—don’t say things like that.”
She had chosen to live gently. Offer help where her hand could reach, strengthen the base—no more. Gamer instincts clamored to complete the set, but when it meant others’ sacrifice, her conscience braked hard. Ringo understood and did not force the issue—though she herself preferred to bring the planet swiftly under control, Commander Ma’am’s will took precedence.
“Utsugi, Erika. If there are no issues, set course for Fortress No. 2.”

“Roger~.”
“Okay.”
Utsugi and Erika transmitted routing orders to the Panas’s strategic AI. It acknowledged and altered the fleet’s heading.

◇◇◇◇
The white warship of Paraiso—long moored as Telek Port City’s guardian. The residents called it the Alpha-Class, and to them it was the strongest warship in the world.
That day, that perception would be rewritten.

The Alpha-Class measured roughly 52 meters—only somewhat larger than the great trading sailships that once visited.
The Hedgehog-Class dwarfed it.
Those ran about 87 meters—and still could not match the flagship’s size.
Paraiso Fleet Flagship, Panas: 141 meters.
Three Alpha-Class hulls abreast would finally compare. Such a fleet entered harbor. A festival atmosphere was inevitable.
And then—

“Guildmaster Kuravia Telek. I bear an important notice. This is neither a proposal nor a jest. It is a demand from Paraiso, and we do not accept negotiations.”
Summoned to the flagship Panas and shown into a prepared state room, Kuravia Telek received the pronouncement.
“We, Paraiso, will take control of the entirety of the United Kingdom of Aphrasia.
The first ground will be here—Telek Port City.
No counteraction will be tolerated.
All rights held by Telek Port City are suspended in the name of Paraiso.
If you judge this unacceptable, you may refuse.
However, understand that such refusal is tantamount to a declaration of war against us.”

Zwei=Ringo—long resident at Telek Port City and on friendly terms with Kuravia—delivered the words to the city’s supreme authority with clinical calm.
“Your answer, Guildmaster. There will be no grace period. You will respond here and now.”