Long-term salvation

"Oh yes, we had a falling out afterwards, but we've patched it up now."

Rhodes tried to shrug, but the action was quickly stopped by Abigail who was pulling his hair. Abigail also had Pickman on her head - the three of them stacked together were almost twice as tall as Princess Cosette - which was not very majestic and even a little funny.

"Princess Cosette, you should return to the moderate faction of the Kingdom of Ergia and become their spiritual pillar and symbol. The soldiers and officers are anxious and unsure how to act. Moreover, the captured radical soldiers need to be appeased and judged. These tasks need to be done by you, the Princess of the Kingdom of Ergia and the heir to the throne."

Rhode spoke calmly. He saw resistance on her face... This was normal. In fact, it was precisely because of this that Princess Cosette became the person Rhode chose.

Regardless, the post-war Army Without Borders still needed the political backing of a larger nation; the Kingdom of Shilaji alone wouldn't be enough. Another reason was that the latter also had to contend with pressure from the resurgent forces of Ergia, so a political solution would clearly be preferable.

"As I said earlier, after the war, there is still a lot to do - the country needs to be rebuilt, the political factions need to be balanced, and you must shoulder your responsibilities before a new, suitable head of government is elected."

responsibility……

Princess Cosette did not agree directly, but asked another question:

"Mr. Rhodes, do you think that humanity shouldn't be divided by national borders? Just like the name you gave your mercenary group, 'The Army Without Borders'? Or do you mean that without national borders, there will be no more wars between humans?"

"Even without nations, humans would be divided from one another by skin color, region, language, culture, and a host of other factors. Humanity is a collective animal composed of individual individuals, and countless small collectives, in turn, form larger collectives, ultimately becoming what we call 'humanity.'"

"Mankind's greatest enemy is still man."

Thinking of the people and events in the main world, Rhode said this. He raised his head, looking up at the gradually darkening sky and the stars that were already faintly visible.

"But one day, humanity will unite. They will stand together, eliminating all obstacles, and build the Tower of Babel that reaches the sky. Do you see this tower connecting land and sky, little girl? In the vast universe, we must call ourselves 'humans,' and other civilizations will only recognize us as such. When facing those terrifying and bizarre creatures, we must cross the 'borders' that separate us. Monsters won't let you go just because of what you say or what you like to eat. In some ways, they treat everyone equally."

"This sounds... strange and distant."

"It's not far away," Rhodes said, looking at the elevator with envy in his eyes. "The vast universe is already unfolding before you, Princess Rosa Cosette de Alice."

"...Please call me 'Rosa', as my friends all call me."

Princess Cosette whispered, she took a few deep breaths, and forced herself to look in the direction of the orbital elevator again - the lights on the magnificent giant were already on, and it could be vaguely seen even on Taylor Island - it was so beautiful.

"I will shoulder the responsibility... I will do what you ask for, and I will grant political asylum to the Army Without Borders after the war. I will try to persuade the opposition in the new government."

"You're smarter than I thought, Rosa, but that's just as well. I like talking to smart people."

The corners of Rhode's mouth curled up slightly. He stretched and almost shook Abigail off. Then he said with a smile:

"Let's go, let's hurry to the meeting and then get something to eat... Old man Michael has mobilized some transport ships and fishing boats, so we can have some warm fish soup tonight—of course, everyone will get some."

Chapter 290 Final Renovation (2/5·3K)

The morning sea breeze still carried the bitter taste of gunpowder embers, sending out a hollow tremor as it passed over the iron shed roof, but people no longer needed to worry about it.

Dozens and hundreds of gray-green canvas tents were arranged in neat rows on the flat ground. The flags of the Army Without Borders, the Kingdom of Shilaji, the Osean Federation and the Kingdom of Ergia were fluttering in the wind, bringing almost infinite hope.

Thin, white steam billowed from the makeshift kitchen chimney, swirling with the salty sea mist into a murky vortex, slicing the last rays of sunset into fragmented golden flakes. Volunteers wearing fluorescent vests stood before the round pot, stirring the thick broth with long-handled wooden spoons, causing the fish bones to unfold into translucent fans in the boiling water. The foam, carrying bay leaves and onion shavings, swirled around the edge of the vortex.

Smelling the smell of fish soup, the people in the refugee camp started to get a little commotion. Most of the people here were elderly people, women and children with limited mobility. Most of the men were sent to clean up the debris of buildings on the island or carry more supplies.

Princess Cosette would come to help cook and distribute food in the morning, but she did not choose to serve as an administrator to maintain order in the refugee camp. Instead, she went to carry supplies like the men. Even though she was taken care of, it was by no means an easy job. But the princess persisted.

"Princess, distribute these last few, and our work is done," said the moderate Ergia soldier in charge of distributing the supplies. His gaze fell on the girl's fingers, which had begun to become rough, and a trace of love and pity flowed in his eyes. "You don't have to be like us."

"Just call me Cosette. I'm no different here than any of you."

Princess Cosette smiled and wiped the sweat from her temples with her hand, but her eyes were looking towards the airport... There were a lot of planes landing today.

Needless to say, there are fighter jets that are landing. There are also more than a dozen fighter jets arranged in a staggered manner on the apron, with their noses pointing towards the northeast direction of the orbital elevator.

The light-colored paint scheme of the Ossia fighter contrasted sharply with the gray-green camouflage of the Ergia at the horizon. The sharp-edged twin vertical tails and the smooth, simple wing-body fusion formed the two poles of mechanical aesthetics. On the other side were the fighters of the Army Without Borders and the Kingdom of Shilaji.

Three mechanics in khaki jumpsuits were using a ground power cart to power the avionics system. Red dust covers for cable connectors lay carelessly discarded next to the landing gear hydraulic hoses. More ground crew members were running around, exchanging ideas on maintenance methods for different military aircraft. Avril, with her own skills, commanded considerable influence, directing the work of the men.

Princess Cosette looked at her with some envy, but soon, a transport plane with the Belka logo landed not far away, and the roar of the engine's reverse thrust could be clearly heard even from here.

As if noticing Princess Cosette's gaze, the soldier sighed and complained:

"I heard that some Belkans came to Taylor Island—those damn warmongers! Without them, this war wouldn't have happened!"

"I think they brought better fighter planes," Princess Cosette's eyes swept over the unique planes that had landed. Then, she lowered her eyes and whispered, "If we want to end this war quickly, we still need their help."

"But I still feel...Mr. Michael!"

Hearing the soldiers' shouting, Princess Cosette turned her head and saw Michael leading his two granddaughters over - Ionya Ya Shilagi (eldest granddaughter) and Alma Ya Shilagi (second granddaughter), looking at her with complicated and pitying eyes.

Without disturbing the family, the soldier saluted and left quickly.

"Rosa..."

Hearing this familiar call, Princess Cosette's eyes shifted slightly. She took a few deep breaths and then said calmly:

"I...I'm not qualified..."

Pulling the girl in front of him into his arms, Michael gently stroked her hair and said softly:

"My sins are far greater than yours. My future has been fixed on only one path - to continue fighting for humanity - but you are different. You are different from my children. You have the freedom to choose your future, and I will fight for your freedom in this world."

Even if it's just the last time.

Feeling the warmth of the embrace, Princess Cosette finally burst into tears again, sobbing softly at first and then bursting into tears. Michael's two granddaughters also quietly wiped away their tears and hugged their friend.

Listening to the cries carried on the breeze, Dr. Schroeder stood on the tarmac and sighed softly. He still had a ring on his wrist - a positioning device and a bomb that was powerful enough to blow his entire arm off... However, the doctor did not feel resentful about this. He knew very well what he had done in this war:

Dr. Schroeder, a Belkan scientist, was responsible for the development of Migai's mobile suit and participated in the development of drones for the Elgian Army. Before the war began, he was dispatched to the Elgian Army by IG Corporation, the founder of Northern Ossia, to collect flight data on Migai.

A few days ago, the base where Dr. Schroeder was located was attacked by the Ronin Force and the Excalibur Squadron. He and the experimental machines stored there were captured and slowly transferred to the Taylor Island base in the following period.

Here, the doctor saw the same Belkan people who were responsible for the development of the Army Without Borders fighter. This was normal. For the Belkan people, provoking war and creating chaos was their goal in itself.

For Dr. Schroeder himself, the Army Without Borders has another meaning:

The man said:

"Doctor, I need all your drone manufacturing data, including manned fighter jets. If possible, I hope you can also hand over any orbital elevator data you can obtain."

A new instigator of war? An ambitious mercenary leader? No... He said he would leave here and show everyone his miracles.

"How ridiculous! My long-held scientific worldview is almost crumbling," Dr. Schroeder said with a self-deprecating laugh. "Perhaps following him to that world wouldn't be a bad idea. Fighting monsters is far better than starting a war for that distant 'homeland.'"

"I don't need a cop-out, Doctor. You'll have a lot to do after the war."

Rhode's voice came from afar, causing the doctor to subconsciously turn around and look. The former was leading a few people who he had never actually seen, but were quite familiar with.

Trigger, the absolute ace of the Osean Army, Pixy, the hero of the Belkan War, and if you add the old man over there... four aces are appearing before him, and each of them has the ability to change the course of the war.

The Ergia radicals were truly blessed.

But from now on, drones will gradually dominate future battlefields, and this cannot be reversed by one or a few ace pilots.

Dr. Schroeder thought about it, pushed up his glasses, and said:

"can I help you?"

"Nothing much, just checking our fighters. After all, we're launching an offensive tomorrow. This is the maximum force we can muster. If we fail... the war will become a long quagmire."

Rhode said that it was difficult, but he was smiling. He waved to Michael who was walking towards him and continued:

"By then, it will become a war between humans and drones—I have to say, Dr. Schroeder, you are indeed a very talented person."

It's a pity that it wasn't used in the right way. Dr. Schroeder understood the meaning of this, but he didn't refute it. Instead, he looked at Michael and said:

"Did you grant his prayer? How wonderful... From your description, people in your hometown don't have such a strong desire for the skies, and there aren't any pilots who change history."

"The gravity of reality is too strong, Doctor."

Rhode replied perfunctorily. He looked at Michael and asked,

"How are you doing now?"

"Very good," Mikael nodded slightly. "But the soldiers from the Ergia moderate faction told me that the radical faction has assembled a very large force, the drone factory has not been disconnected from the power supply, and they have also received assistance from... the Belkans."

The four ace pilots then turned their attention to Dr. Schroeder, who adjusted his glasses, maintaining his composure, and decided to go back and change his shirt.

"In that case, we will need to face multiple powerful drones. This isn't a problem—but we must be careful not to allow the drones' combat data to be uploaded and synchronized with other drones. If we do, the consequences will be disastrous."

Pixy spoke seriously. Compared to the others, he felt more troubled and nostalgic... Those damn Belkans, why did they even bring that fighter?! They were talking about upgraded avionics and all, and they seemed quite proud of it.

But as soon as this thought swirled around in her head, Pixy realized it was definitely the silver-haired kid next to her who was responsible! How did he develop such a strange and sinister personality? It must be because some elders, much older than him, were condoning him!

"Caesar has already taken his men to restart the USS Anderson. Therefore, we have the advantage in terms of manned aircraft numbers. We must suppress the enemy's manned aircraft immediately to prevent interference in the more difficult battle to come... As for the giant ordnance bird, the Alicorn will deal with it."

Rhodes had just opened his mouth when he saw Princess Cosette looking over here. She was standing a few meters away and said carefully:

"How can I help?"

"...if you prefer, of course, don't jump from the orbital elevator with a parachute, just stay put and wait."

"?"

Chapter 291: Battle for the Orbital Elevator (3/5·4K)

Dawn, the moment when the sun's rays descend.

The fleet took off and headed towards the future.

The rectangular air intakes of seven F/S-15 fighter jets were the first to cut through the morning mist. Dewdrops churned up by the turbine blades condensed into waterlines on the belly pylons. Five hundred meters behind them, the wingtips of four Su-30sm fighter jets drew spiral condensation trails. Their streamlined fuselages were like the folded wings of a predator, and the sun emblem symbolizing the Kingdom of Shilaji highlighted the pilots' proud origins.

The F/A-18 fighter jets that took off from the USS General Anderson have completed formation and are following the Rafale M fleet launched from the Alicorn, preparing to penetrate the enemy from another direction.

Finally, there were the fighter planes of the Osiris Federation, the Kingdom of Elgia, and some independent small countries, as well as early warning aircraft, transport aircraft, warships, landing ships, and transport ships... At this moment, in this brief moment, people began to understand each other, and then held hands and walked towards the battlefield.

The vertical tails of nearly a hundred fighter jets sliced ​​through the thin cirrus clouds, trailing long, slender, milky white vortices beneath their fuselages. The sharp outlines of the fighters seemed coated in liquid gold by the morning light, their sharp leading-edge flaps trembling slightly in the thin air, as if anticipating the slaughter to come.

On the sea, dozens of ships broke through the waves, dragging out long white wakes, forming a mighty fleet, but this time, they came to end the war.

"I never thought this day would come."

Pxiy's voice echoed over the communication channel. The ADFX-02 "Morgan" fighter, its right wing painted crimson, was flying steadily. Sitting in this familiar yet somewhat unfamiliar fighter, he felt a surge of emotion.

"That people from different countries could unite, transcend borders, and fight for a better future – my dream came true today, if only for one day."

"One moment is eternity. There will be more opportunities in the future."

Rod comforted him, gripping the joystick tightly as he tore through the air as the lead aircraft, directing the airflow to the sides. He had to admit, the CFA-44's maneuverability was truly astonishing, causing him to exclaim in admiration:

"Waiting for these new fighters to arrive before starting the battle is indeed a good idea. What do you think, Trigger?"

"……Good."

Trigger remained as taciturn as before, but for him, getting a better fighter in battle was indeed a good thing. With this thought, the demon/hero of this era slightly tilted the XFA-27 fighter's fuselage, following the route map, and prepared to enter the combat airspace. The three claw marks shone brightly in the dawn sunlight.

"...approaching combat zone, orbital elevator sighted."

"This will be our final battle, a battle to carve out a future for future generations."

Mikael exhaled slowly, his eyes slightly narrowed, feeling the excitement brought by the fuselage piercing the air. This fighter named X-02S had not had the opportunity to fight with the powerful enemy before, but now, she will surely get what she wants in the name of bringing peace.

"I hope this will take away some of my guilt."

After hearing what Michael said, Rhode chuckled, reached out and touched the black cat Pickman lying next to him, then turned on the public channel and said to all the fighter pilots:

"This is your Excellency... everyone! We have accomplished a great feat—in the face of the mad and ambitious individuals who brought about the war, we have cast aside all hatred and resentment and united to reclaim the 'Crown of Peace'!"

"I have an unwavering belief that if one day someone needs to pilot a fighter jet to push an asteroid hurtling toward Earth, you will step forward—simply because you hold the highest ideals of humanity—the ideal of sacrificing for others, the ideal of sacrificing so that generations to come can soar into the sky without distraction."

"Now, I have one last order for you—come back alive—and attend the celebration banquet filled with fine wine! If anyone doesn't come, I'll stuff the bottle back into that damn little box, and don't blame the wine for changing its taste!"

The communication channel suddenly erupted in loud cheers and whistles, laughter and mutual banter, until the voice of the commander in the AWACS drowned it out:

"Entering the orbital elevator air defense zone...engaging the enemy!"