The training room of the aircraft carrier Melea.

Emma, changed into sportswear, was training in a room with its gravity increased.

Finishing her workout, her breathing ragged, she looked at the clock displaying the ship's internal time.

"Nobody's coming!"

Emma screamed, clutching her head, but there was no one else around.

Normally, soldiers should have been there for their training period, but because discipline aboard the Melea was so lax, the rules were not being followed.

In the spacious training room, Emma wiped away her sweat while catching her breath.

"Why is it so bad?"

The current Banfield family—the Count's family—had reformed its private army when the new lord took over.

From a paper tiger to a functional military.

Emma had heard that with the change to a harsh new lord, the army had become much stricter.

And yet, she was only confused by the difference between that and reality.

"Haaah."

Letting out a heavy sigh, she finished her training and headed for the showers.

◇

In the Melea's hangar.

"Everyone, I am angry!"

Emma, having lined up Doug, Larry, and Molly, tried to present a resolute attitude towards the three for not completing their designated training.

However, after a recent string of demoralizing events, she lacked a certain confidence.

The three of them must have seen through her demeanor.

Each of them looked annoyed.

"You're too serious, Emma-chan. Besides, nobody on this ship trains seriously."

"That's not acceptable!"

As Emma tried to fulfill her duties as squad leader, Doug smiled with a troubled look on his face.

"Such a motivated little missy."

"I'm not a little missy, please call me Captain!"

As Emma raised her voice at her unmotivated subordinates, an irritated Larry spoke up.

"You're being a nuisance."

"A-a nuisance!? Th-that's not right. We're soldiers, and this is our duty—"

"And I'm saying that's the nuisance."

Facing Emma, who was stating the obvious, Larry put his hands in his pockets and walked away without permission.

Watching Larry's back, Emma's mouth opened and closed silently.

"Hey, um... this is the army."

In a military that should have been strict with discipline, Larry's behavior was a problem.

If her former instructor, Claudia, were here, she would have corrected him thoroughly.

And now, that was Emma's role.

She had been taught that as a squad leader, she had to be strict to lead her subordinates.

As Emma clenched her hands into fists, Doug spoke to her.

"Got a minute, little missy?"

"I'm not a little missy! I'm—"

"Then, Ensign. Would you be so kind as to accompany me?"

Glared at by the grim-faced man, Emma flinched for a moment but then straightened her back.

Molly, who had been watching the two, shrugged and went back to her work.

"In that case, I'm heading back to maintenance."

Watching Molly's retreating back, Emma felt that the squad she was supposed to lead was full of nothing but problem children.

(They're all problem children... Am I one too?)

She realized that, unable to pilot a Mobile Knight properly, she must also look like a problem child to others, and her spirits sank.

◇

Doug led her to the hangar where the machines of Emma's Mobile Knight squad were lined up.

Emma and Doug stood side-by-side, watching Molly in a powered maintenance suit working on the feet of one of the mechs.

Emma looked up at the machine.

The Mobile Knight had a simple design, looking as if it were wearing a helmet.

There was almost no ornamentation.

The commander's unit had a visor-like coloring, giving it a special feel.

In front of this machine, Doug began to speak eloquently.

"Do you know the name of this machine?"

Thinking she was being made fun of, Emma answered curtly with a sullen expression.

"It's the 'Moheib,' right? I know that much."

She had been drilled on the necessary knowledge at the Knight Academy.

Emma was annoyed, wondering if he thought she wouldn't even know something so basic.

But Doug's gaze on the Moheib was serious.

"Officially, it's the Moheib Type-2. The Type-4 is the mainstream model now, which makes this one two generations old."

"Huh?"

When he pointed it out, she examined the details and noticed many differences from what she knew.

Doug continued his explanation.

"They say the initial model was terrible when it first came out. It only had enough performance to barely win a two-on-one fight against the mainstream mass-produced units of the time."

"What? But it's used all over the Empire now, isn't it?"

"You could manufacture three of these early models for the price of one of those mass-produced units. On top of that, its productivity and maintainability were overwhelmingly superior. The nobles snatched them up because the upkeep was cheap. Thanks to that, this thing is now called the masterpiece of the Empire."

It was a machine used throughout the Empire not for its performance, but because it could be produced in large quantities with low maintenance costs.

Why was such an old model being used on the Melea?

As Emma wondered, Doug answered before she could ask.

"—It's just like us."

"Huh?"

"Meaning, we're cheap consumables that can be used up and thrown away."

Doug, who usually smiled a lot, now turned a serious expression toward Emma.

However, Emma couldn't accept Doug's story.

"We're not consumables! Because—"

"You think we're not? You really don't see anything, do you, little missy?"

Doug, with an openly disgusted look on his face, seemed to be recalling the past, his expression turning bitter.

"I've been in the Banfield family's army since the time of the previous lord's predecessor."

"Since the predecessor's time? Wait, but I heard the old Banfield private army was disbanded."

Immediately after the current head took over, the old Banfield private army underwent a major reform.

At that time, regular army soldiers accepted from the Empire became the mainstream.

Later, the generals of the old private army were purged, and it was effectively a complete replacement.

Doug put his hands in his pockets and spoke of those times.

"Those days were truly awful. All we were supplied with were obsolete weapons that would lose even to pirates. Still, they told us to fight, and we were sent to the battlefield over and over. The guys who enlisted with dreams and hopes became apathetic soldiers who'd given up after ten years."

"Th-that's why the Lord reformed it—"

"Yeah, that's right. That was the correct decision. But you know, even in that situation, we were doing everything we could!"

Hearing Doug's shout, Molly turned her head in surprise but quickly returned to her work.

Emma was startled, but more than that, she was rendered speechless by Doug's menacing intensity.

"We weren't fighting for some stupid nobles. We risked our lives for the people of the domain. If we didn't, they would have been the ones to suffer. Not once did we fight for the nobles. And then, the new lord who took over just threw us away."

"That's not true!"

Emma retorted at Doug, who was denouncing the current lord.

However, Doug wouldn't listen to her.

"It is true. This unit is proof of that. This Lemea, where they shove all the useless ones, is the best evidence. The current lord crammed us into a place like this."

"What?"

A vein bulged on Doug's forehead; he was quite agitated.

"—The people of the domain welcomed it. The sloppy army was reorganized. They said they wouldn't have to fear pirates anymore."

For soldiers like Doug who had fought desperately, it must have felt like they were betrayed even by the very people they had protected.

Emma tried to argue, but gave up, realizing that nothing she said would reach Doug.

"You've met our commander, right? He used to be a hot-blooded man who risked his life for the people. And yet, the new lord easily cast us aside. He treated us as disposable, just like this thing."

Doug gestured with his thumb at the Moheib, which had a feature allowing damaged parts to be quickly replaced if they were beyond repair.

Doug must have wanted to teach Emma that this system of discarding what's unusable was the same as their own situation.

"The old private army can't be trusted. That's what the current mainstream faction says as they send us to the frontier. They're probably thinking it would be a great help if we just died. They've equipped us with a ship and machines that are all generations out of date."

"W-well, there are various other issues at play."

Where to concentrate military strength? There were also financial problems regarding equipment.

A situation had arisen where even obsolete models had to be used, or things wouldn't function.

Various reasons came to mind, but Doug resented the Banfield family—the current lord—and wouldn't listen.

"—I don't care about the reasons. But it's a fact that we've been abandoned. On top of that, this is a gathering of people who have nowhere else to go after years of military life. Little missy, do you know why Molly was assigned to this ship?"

"N-no."

She glanced at Molly, who was working, but unlike her usual attitude, she was doing maintenance seriously.

"She grew up in an orphanage. She joined the army to acquire skills and qualifications to survive, not because she wanted to."

Joining the military, which recruits volunteers, to gain skills and return to civilian society.

Such citizens were not uncommon.

"Molly has that personality. She was disliked by the serious soldiers and sent here. Larry's the same. You know, he originally wanted to be a knight."

"Huh?"

"To become a knight, you need to use an education capsule from childhood. He just missed the window. That's why he's probably jealous when he looks at you, little missy. When he was first sent here, he was just like you."

Emma was bewildered to hear that the unmotivated Larry was once like her.

"I can't imagine Warrant Officer Larry ever being serious."

"I bet. But even a guy like that rots away if he stays here long enough."

Learning that the unit she was assigned to had deeper-rooted problems than she had imagined, Emma felt anxious about the future.

As Doug passed by Emma to leave, he muttered one last thing.

"Our spirits are already broken. Sorry, but don't drag us into your game of playing army."

Playing army.

Learning the circumstances of the soldiers on the Melea, who were so unlike a proper military, Emma wondered what she should do.

With tears in her eyes, Emma looked up at the ceiling.

"I really am a useless, good-for-nothing knight."

Healing the broken spirits of these soldiers would not be easy, and Emma didn't have the power to do it.

Emma wiped her tears.

And then, she psyched herself up.

"—But I can't end it here! Even if I can't do anything, I still have to!"

As Emma made her resolve, Molly, who had finished a phase of her maintenance work, approached her.

"It's fine to get all fired up, but what are you planning to do now, Emma-chan? Try not to do anything too troublesome, okay?"

Embarrassed that Molly, now free from her work, had seen her in that state, Emma blushed.

Her gaze wandered as she spoke to Molly.

"F-for now, training?"

"—Emma-chan, you're quite the muscle-brain, aren't you?"

◇

The next day.

Emma came to the training room during her break.

This time, Molly was there too.

"Go for it~"

As if responding to Molly's unenthusiastic cheer from the side, Emma psyched herself up and lifted a weight several times her own size.

"Hnngh!"

Molly applauded at the sight of Emma, who didn't have a particularly muscular build, lifting such a heavy weight.

"Amazing! I don't think even the guys on our ship could lift that."

Taking a break, Emma, still breathing heavily, explained to Molly that any knight could do this much.

"I am a knight, after all. Oh, but I was always good at physical activity. My grades were good in this area! ...j-just a little."

"See, you really are a muscle-brain, Emma-chan."

Molly grinned, watching Emma, who was better at acting than thinking.

Then, her expression turned slightly serious.

"More importantly, what are you going to do now? I don't think anything will change just because you try hard by yourself, you know?"

Even if Emma alone worked hard, the situation on the Lemea wouldn't change.

She herself understood that well.

"It's fine. I'm trying hard for my own sake."

"You're not doing it for everyone?"

"I'm doing it for everyone on my own accord. You see... I've always admired knights of justice."

A knight of justice.

She imagined a figure stronger than anyone, who confronts any and all difficulties.

In Emma's mind, the ideal knight was Avid—in other words, the current head of the Banfield family.

"I'm sure of it. A true knight of justice wouldn't just ignore a situation like this."

Molly was exasperated by Emma's words, but she smiled as if she found it amusing.

"You're interesting, Emma-chan. You're like a boy."

"H-hey, I'm a girl! ...though people often say I don't act like one."

Emma sulked, having been teased in the past for not being very feminine.

She thought so herself, but deep down, she had a strong sense that she was a woman.

She had once been advised to undergo a sex change, but she refused for reasons she couldn't quite explain.

"You're pretty cute when you pout."

Being called cute by Molly, Emma's face turned bright red.

"St-stop it! When you say things like that so suddenly, I don't know what kind of face to make—"

As their conversation grew lively, a blaring ship-wide broadcast echoed through the vessel.

Then, an unenthusiastic-sounding operator reported the current situation.

"The Space Carrier Lemea will now commence atmospheric entry in one hour. All hands, stand by at your designated positions."