Arthur took the helm of the cargo ship, the guild masters gathered behind him on the bridge, their eyes scanning the console and the sleek setup.

Arthur flipped a few switches and pressed a button on the dashboard. The ship rumbled slightly as the engine came fully online, and turned the steering wheel gently in his hands. He then turned toward the others.

“The steering works on a hydraulic system,” Arthur explained, turning the wheel with just one hand. He also explained to them how a hydraulic system works.

He continued, “Due to this there is no need for brute strength, anyone can operate it. Still, I recommend sending your sailors to us to train on it for a few days before using it commercially.”

A few of the guildmasters nodded, giving instructions to their aides who stood nearby.

The ship cruised slowly along the coast. The group stood on the outer deck for a few moments, watching the horizon before Arthur brought them back toward the harbor.

Once docked, he guided the group below deck to the engine room. The space was clean but was hot, filled with hissing sounds of high pressure steam being released from the machinery.

“This is the core of the ship,” Arthur said, gesturing to the large cylindrical structure. “Mana is fed into the converter, which creates heat and boils water. The resulting steam drives the turbines to propel the ship.”

Even the older guildmasters looked visibly impressed.

“There’s no runes used?” one muttered.

“None,” Arthur confirmed.

They took their final notes, shook Arthur’s hand, and returned to the guild building to process their purchase orders.

Once they were gone, Arthur stepped on the ship’s bridge and stretched slightly. The sun had risen higher in the sky, it was already past ten.

“Time to get back,” he muttered.

He sailed across the sea and returned to Avalon in less than thirty minutes, and docked the ship. 

He flew towards the central tower and saw Butler Hudson was already waiting there.

“Hudson,” Arthur called. “Start gathering the farmers. It’s time.”

“Yes, Lord Arthur,” Hudson said with a slight bow and disappeared down the lift with a few synthezoids to help gather the people.

Arthur moved quickly, heading to the warehouse where the seeds and saplings had been stored since their arrival. He retrieved crates filled with grains, rice, wheat, corn, barley, oats etc., the fruit tree saplings and a few crates holding the saplings of the rare trees he had encountered during the tournament, the guardian had developed them into cultivable varieties.

Within the hour, nearly four hundred farmers had assembled at the square, their expressions were curious but eager. Arthur didn’t give a long speech this time; he simply nodded to them and started walking towards the fields.

“Follow me.”

He led the group past the city gates, and into the open stretch of flat land that was already prepared.

Butler Hudson came forward and bowed, “Lord Arthur, the people have requested that you plant the first sapling.”

Arthur nodded without protest. “This land will be yours to cultivate from this day forward. And today, we will plant the first seed.”

He knelt and carefully unwrapped one of the special saplings, green-tinted bark with golden veins running up the stem. He dug a small hole near the edge of the city’s inner wall and placed the sapling inside.

He pulled a bucket of water from his dimensional storage, poured it over the sapling, and rose to his feet.

The farmers stood in silence for a moment before moving as one. Dozens of hands opened the crates, reaching for seed bags and sapling bundles. Several of the more experienced among them directed the younger ones on spacing and irrigation lines.

The automated irrigation system had already been installed beneath the field, underground pipes and control valves designed for minimal maintenance. Arthur watched them for a while before stepping away.

Hudson joined him, along with Sylas and Syara Everhart, both now clad in simple dark tunics.

Sylas muttered under his breath, “I’ve never actually seen farmers at work before.”

“It’s not a glamorous job, but it’s what keeps the world running,” Arthur replied.

Syara nodded from the side.

They continued to observe until the final row of seeds had been buried and the crates sat empty. It was already past noon when they completed their job.

Arthur stepped forward again and activated the irrigation system with a command on his wristband. Jets of water sprayed from the nozzles, creating a gentle mist over the fields before retracting back into the ground.

The farmers murmured in amazement as they stood there, watching the water sink into the soil.

Arthur turned to the crowd.

“This system will provide regular irrigation,” he said. “You can also operate it manually, Hudson and the others will show you how.”

As Arthur turned to return to his room, he cast one last glance over the land. What had once been an empty field now held the promise of food, work, and life.

…

The night sky above Avalon was clear, stars twinkling faintly above the towering central tower. But Arthur was already gone, he had returned to Dreadnought Mk XI.

He exited the portal and went straight to his bed and collapsed onto it, letting the tension of the past few days fade from his muscles. The weight of politics, city-building, and economic deals vanished, as he drifted into sleep.

Arthur woke early the next morning.

He freshened up, dressed, and equipped his armor, the chestplate snapped into place with a soft hiss, his gauntlets locked in with a dull click. Finally, as the last piece fitted into place he stepped out of the room.

Waiting for him at the end of the hall were Elena, Leo, and Samir who were all dressed in their combat gear. Their postures were sharp, and their eyes were focused even in a nerve racking situation like now. They didn’t speak at first, just exchanged nods as Arthur joined them.

“Ready?” Arthur asked as they exited their quarter.

“Always,” Leo said, flexing his fingers inside his gloves. “I’ve been itching for some action lately.”

Elena shot him a look. “You say that now. Let’s see if you’re still this enthusiastic when we are on the battlefield.”

Samir gave a quiet laugh. “You know him, he will be enthusiastic right until something explodes next to his head.”

Arthur chuckled lightly. “Let’s just hope it explodes next to the enemy’s head.”

Their boots echoed against the metal floor as they moved toward the docking bay. The halls were busy, soldiers rushing, officers shouting, supplies being carted in hover crates across the decks. Everyone knew the next phase of the war was about to begin.

The target was one of the three strategic planets recently captured by the Chimerians.

Hundreds of ECHOs were preparing for launch, many lined up in front of the Vanguard. The heavy clank of boots echoed through the bay as units were being sorted. Massive freight loaders rolled past, carrying crates of ammunition and supplies.

Every ECHO unit in this deployment had activated their Chi. It was the first time the UFE sanctioned such a wide-scale field test for something entirely new to them.

As Arthur and his team approached the docking bay, his presence caused a ripple in the crowd.

ECHOs turned their heads. A few nodded while others straightened unconsciously. All of them held great respect for him, as he gave them a power which they only saw in comic books previously, he had also guided them throughout the week on how to handle Chi and sparred with them.

He was also their highest-ranking officer here appointed by the UFE. As the UFE felt it was the right thing to do, to let the person who gave them their new ability to lead them.

Arthur didn’t speak. He simply made his way to the ship, the team following behind.

Inside, the Vanguard was lined with cushioned seats, and weapons were mounted on the walls. The seats were already filled with ECHOs, without their helmets on.

The second Arthur stepped aboard, the unit captains at the front stood and saluted.

“Commander.”

Arthur gave a short nod towards them. “At ease.”

He waited at the front as the others also entered the ship and sat down one by one, the gate sealed shut behind them.

“ETA?” he asked the pilot through their communication channel.

“Warp jump in T-minus two minutes and thirty seconds, sir,” the woman responded from the cockpit. As the low thrum of the engines began to rise in pitch.

Arthur turned towards the ECHOs. “Our orders are simple, we will wait for the other Vanguards to clear the sentries and orbital defence outside the planet and once the opening is created, we will drop and rush towards the base. Remember our target is one of the three strategic planets overtaken by the Chimerians, so act with caution as there will be heavy resistance.”

Just as Arthur was going to continue, the pilot’s voice rang out.

“Exiting the battlestation now…”

“Godspeed soldiers.” Arthur nodded towards the ECHOs and sat down.

What Arthur didn’t tell the ECHOs was he had some other plans after reaching their destination.

…

The ship cut through the void silently. For nearly three hours, the interior remained mostly silent except the occasional exchange between soldiers. Arthur sat quietly with his eyes closed, head tilted back against the seat. 

The others didn’t bother disturbing him, everyone had their own way of preparing for war.

Then, with a sudden lurch, the ship dropped out of warp.

Immediately, a deafening alarm blared inside the cabin, red lights flashing in sync with the siren. Everyone on board stiffened as the internal comms crackled to life.

“This is the captain speaking…brace yourselves. We’ve entered a hot zone. Repeat, we’ve entered a live battle zone!”

The atmosphere shifted instantly. Soldiers who had been relaxed a second ago were now putting on their helmets, and checking their weapons, as their eyes widened with alertness.

A flicker of light appeared on Arthur’s wrist. He looked down, and a holographic feed expanded above the device, auto-linked to the ship’s intel relay.

The rest of the ECHOs on board had received the same transmission.

On the projection, a scene unfolded in stark clarity, two massive fleets exchanging blows in the blackness of space. Human battleships fired their plasma cannons, energy beams streaking across the stars. On the other side, grotesque and spiny Chimerian warships retaliated, their weaponry menacing in design. 

Explosions erupted like fireworks in slow motion, silent in the vacuum, but violently beautiful. Both the sides were suffering casualties, but in a war of this scale this was normal.

“Damn,” Leo muttered as he clenched his knuckles. “They’re really going at it.”

Arthur stood. “I’ll be back in a moment,” he said, then stood up and moved toward the front of the ship.

Elena’s brow furrowed. “Where are you going?”

“Cockpit,” he called back without turning.

Samir raised an eyebrow but said nothing.

Arthur reached the cockpit door and tapped the panel.

The ship’s captain turned from the console as he entered. “Commander!” the man saluted stiffly. “Can I assist you with something?”

Arthur nodded calmly. “I need a shuttle.”

The captain blinked. “A… shuttle, sir?”

“Yes.” Arthur replied with a no nonsense tone.

The captain hesitated, glancing at the console, then back at Arthur. “Commander… with all due respect, that’s not a call I’m authorized to make. We’re under strict order from the High Command to avoid any unnecessary engagement.”

Arthur’s expression remained unchanged. “I see.”

The silence that followed made the air feel heavier for the captain of the ship.

Arthur turned and walked out without another word as his helmet covered his head.

…

Back in the ship’s main corridor, Arthur didn’t stop. He made his way directly to the payload bay, where support equipment and auxiliary crafts were stored.

The guards posted there looked up but didn’t question him, not when his ID showed he was the commander of this party.

Arthur approached the main control panel beside the shuttered bay doors and hacked into it with his Technopathy.

With a hiss of decompression, the bay doors slid open. The alert sounded on the bridge immediately. 

Back in the cockpit, the captain’s console lit up in alarm.

“What the hell?!” he muttered. “Unauthorized bay access… payload lock override?!”

He slammed a button on his chair. “Security, send a squad down to the payload bay now!”

But by the time the soldiers began to move, it was already too late.

Arthur stood inside a sleek shuttle, one designed for scouting missions and small-scale deployment. The engines hummed softly as he prepped for launch, his fingers dancing over the interface. The hatch sealed behind him.

Inside the bridge, the captain stared in disbelief as the screen displayed the shuttle disengaging.

“Commander Arthur has left the ship,” the pilot said, her voice tight with disbelief. “Repeat, the Commander has left in a shuttle and is en route toward the active combat zone.”

The captain swore under his breath, then slumped slightly in his chair.

***

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