With three Abyssal flagships attacking her at once, Tirpitz was finally pushed onto the defensive. But after nearly half an hour of intense combat, she hadn't even broken a sweat—while Abyssal Bismarck was on the verge of collapse.
Even among high stars max-level Abyssal flagships, there were tiers. Abyssal Bismarck's stats were fully inferior to her sister ship, Abyssal Tirpitz. Her endurance was a measly 126 points, and under Tirpitz's focused assault, she quickly entered a critical state—losing over 30% of her power.
They couldn't wait any longer. Abyssals could indulge in pleasure and pain, but not in defeat or humiliation.
With a wave of her hand, Abyssal Barbarossa summoned hundreds of thousands of Abyssal shipgirls who surged forward, surrounding all four combatants at the center of the battlefield.
Even if friendly fire was possible, even if most of these shipgirls posed little real threat to a monster like Tirpitz—more firepower was still more firepower.
Glory? Sorry, only victors get to talk about glory.
Tirpitz now faced the siege of hundreds of thousands. Even if only a fraction could attack her at once, the situation looked dire.
And yet, surrounded by tens of thousands of enemies, she ignored defense entirely, still fighting recklessly with a trade-for-trade approach—like a ghost-god unleashed upon the world.
Marshal Heizou, face thick with flesh, slapped his thigh and exclaimed in operatic tones:
"力拔山兮~气盖世啊!"
(Strength to lift mountains, spirit to crush the world!)
Fleet Admiral Gorou stood in stunned silence, then murmured,
"Truly… this is the unmatched valor of a ghost-god."
This scene was captured clearly by Cumberland's camera. Paired with narration, the image was broadcast across thousands of households in East Asia just moments later.
The image: Tirpitz, standing alone against an army.
The caption beside it:
Queen of the North—Ghost-God Unrivaled.
Indiana stepped forward again. "At the very least, we should divide those Abyssal troops. I can lead a strike force."
"No. All of you—fall back beyond 100 nautical miles," Lexington ordered firmly.
Tirpitz had already demonstrated world-shaking power—but that didn't mean Lexington had the right to command the battlefield.
Fleet Admiral Gorou brushed Indiana aside and spoke gravely. "I need an explanation."
Lexington flicked her hair. From the blue ribbon at her temple, petals fell like feathers—transforming mid-air into carrier aircraft that swirled around her.
On the nose of each aircraft was a chibi-style painting of a blonde shipgirl—a mark of the aircraft's original owner.
This feature was unmistakable. Marshal Heizou clutched his chest.
"B-25s… six-star hero aircraft!"
Fleet Admiral Gorou was equally stunned. "How do you have so many B-25s?"
Lexington smiled. "That is my explanation. Now go, little fairies—ride the sweet sea breeze and fight!"
If there was anyone on this battlefield who could join without dragging Tirpitz down, it was Lexington.
While the South Seas army began retreating northward, many chose to stay.
Marshals, Captains, high-level shipgirls, journalists, and military observers.
In truth, many of them were on the verge of madness from sheer excitement.
Foreign observers were simply dazzled by the appearance of such a powerful shipgirl. The reporters had more practical concerns.
The top priority now: recording every frame of this historic battle—especially the clash between Tirpitz and the three Abyssal flagships.
But there was a problem: no camera could safely make it through the dense Abyssal swarm to get close. Reporters were pulling their hair out in frustration.
Distant zoom shots weren't good enough. If the image wasn't crystal clear, it might as well be worthless. With that in mind, Cumberland once again deployed a camera-carrying fairy, sending it into the heart of the battlefield.
To carry these little fairies, she had given up a significant portion of her rigging. But it was worth it: her footage was always better than everyone else's. As long as she had a steady aluminum supply, she could keep filming forever.
High above, Lexington's aircraft began their assault.
Her attack wasn't flashy—her planes were the size of birds, and their bombs looked no bigger than fingertips, barely visible.
But those tiny bombs—deadly.
Even Abyssal shipgirls at level 80 or 90 couldn't dodge them. Even a Λ-class IV Abyssal battleship, nearing level 100, would explode in a single hit.
Each strike bloomed like a firework over the sea.
Lexington had never fought so freely. In the past, as a carrier, she was always the first to be targeted in any sortie.
But now? With hundreds of thousands of Abyssals ordered to ignore her bombing and focus solely on Tirpitz—Lexington was free to bomb to her heart's content.
[End of Chapter]
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