The Dream Code: Yume no Kodo [Light Novel] Vol. 2 – Page 15

Page 15

Mitsuru looked out at the faces of his people, at the determined pilots already settling into their A2 units, at the steadfast soldiers standing firm, at the determined gaze of his allies. His heart swelled with a noble spirit, a profound sense of duty and love for Jirkunland. He stepped forward. “BRETHREN!” his voice amplified, shining like the most precious gemstone, echoing across the plains. “We were promised victory! We have gathered here not to die, but to live! They have gathered here only to be annihilated! Release your every last bullet! Let them know the fury of Jirkunland!”

As Mitsuru’s impassioned declaration faded, Aanza unleashed his attack with a vicious, overwhelming might. He had endured the delays, the unexpected resilience of Jirkunland, and he had had enough. Today, he intended to capture Jirkunland, to crush this final bastion of defiance and end his campaign. He hurled his full force forward.

At that crucial moment, Kamen Minora arrived, his presence a stark contrast to the grim military tableau. “Master!” he called out, his voice clear and strong, as he moved swiftly to Mitsuru’s side. “The Ginksu Shield is active!” He raised his arm, and a shimmering, almost invisible barrier of energy pulsed outward from his shield, immediately intercepting a volley of long-range energy lances aimed directly at Mitsuru and the command center. The blasts harmlessly dissipated against the localized force field. Simultaneously, Kamen’s Sword of Jigenksu flared to life, a beam of pure, focused energy lancing out and vaporizing an incoming cluster of aerial drones attempting to flank their position. “The Sword will disrupt their targeting systems as the Shield protects us!” he declared, his stance unwavering, a vital guardian in the heart of the unfolding chaos.

Just then, Master Genryu raised his finger. A blinding light emanated from the ring, an incandescent wave that swept across the entire horizon, engulfing both armies. A colossal dust storm, unnatural in its intensity, churned and swirled over Aanza’s assembled legions. “NOW!” Genryu commanded.

Mitsuru, already settled into the cockpit of his A2 unit, slammed his hand onto the primary activation panel. “ALL UNITS, RELEASE HELL!”

In response, approximately fifteen hundred A2 units ascended into the sky, their metallic forms seamlessly transforming into supersonic fighter jets. They streaked towards the vast enemy host, a swarm of avenging angels descending upon the myriad aircraft, missiles, and heavily armed ground forces of Aanza. Mitsuru, his fingers flying across the controls, pressed the silver button on his console, a signal echoed by every other A2 pilot. Their units activated a unique mineral coating, coupled with their advanced technology, which generated a frequency designed to neutralize any threat before it could reach them.

“FIRE, CODE JIRCA NINE!” Mitsuru commanded, his voice ringing with authority.

In perfect unison, all fifteen hundred and thirty-one A2 units unleashed their deadliest, final offensive. From each machine, thousands upon thousands of peanut-sized metal balls were ejected, forming a shimmering, lethal cloud. These were not mere projectiles; they were intelligent agents, programmed to identify and engage any target deemed hostile by Jirkunland’s AI. As the metal balls dispersed, they triggered thousands of massive energy field bursts, each one a miniature nova. Aircraft vaporized, tanks disintegrated, missile batteries were rendered inert, and the densely packed ground forces of Aanza and Shikkon alike were engulfed.

For forty-three minutes, a precise storm of A2-driven destruction rained down upon the enemy. When the final energy discharge faded, an unnerving silence fell. All fifteen hundred and thirty-one A2 units, untouched and unharmed, hovered serenely in the sky. The mighty army of Aanza, the combined might of Shikkon, Zoros, and their allies—all of it was gone. Utterly obliterated. Nothing remained but scorched earth.

As this catastrophic victory unfolded, Master Genryu, cloaked in a protective shield generated by his ring, moved with impossible speed towards Aanza’s command post. He reached out and touched the pulsating red stone embedded in Aanza’s forehead. A piercing scream tore from Aanza’s throat as he began to contort, shrinking, his form collapsing inward until he was a mere speck, then nothing. Genryu closed his hand, capturing Aanza’s essence within his ring. “I have trapped him in time,” Genryu explained to Mitsuru, his voice echoing with ancient power. “He will remain there for a considerable duration. But know this, Mitsuru, his ambition is relentless. He will return.”

The battle of Shikkon was over, and its outcome irrevocably altered the course of the war. With Aanza vanquished and his primary army annihilated, Jirkunland and its allies advanced. They swept through the remaining pockets of Aanza’s forces, liberating the Bubbian lands and then continuing their relentless march. The Kaazkaans, witnessing the terrifying might of Jirkunland’s technology and the utter destruction of Shikkon’s vast army, lost all will to resist. One by one, the nations that had allied with Aanza surrendered unconditionally. The Zoros, the Kaazkaans, and all their confederates laid down their arms, defeated not by overwhelming numbers, but by superior strategy and devastating technology.

Jirkunland had eliminated the first wave. An era of unprecedented global peace began, ushered in under the wise and benevolent leadership of Master Genryu.

After the dust settled and the last enemy flag was lowered, Genryu summoned Mitsuru. Victory shone in his eyes, but his expression was tinged with a knowing smile. “Mitsuru,” he said, his voice gentle, “I grant you the vast lands of Shikkon to govern. The people of Deccia have also expressed their desire for you to be their king, as have the people of Xerania. If you wish, you may rule these three lands.”

A warm smile spread across Mitsuru’s face. Ava stepped forward, taking his hand, her touch sending a comforting warmth through him. The other girls—Yuki, Poi, Shika, and Jing—gathered around, embracing him in shared joy and relief. Ten years had passed since the fifteen-year-old Mitsu traveled back in time into the body of the thirty-seven-year-old shy writer Kanzaki. And now here he was, in all his glory. Mitsuru, the King of Three Lands.