Still, even if our G-line doesn't field show-stopping carriers, we held our own.
Bismarck ruffled U-47's hair and, rare for her, smiled broadly. "You did very well. You get top credit for this one."
Hands on hips, U-47 laughed without a shred of modesty. "I'm the super-strong Bull of Scapa Flow! I can gore any enemy like a raging bull!"
As she spoke, she hauled up from the sea a purple horn, sixty to seventy centimeters long, and held it up like a treasure. "Look what I found!"
"The Abyssal Yamato's horn—the one Commander specifically asked for!"
Bismarck blinked in surprise, running her fingers over the horn's eerie, chill violet sheen. A strange pull seemed to emanate from it. "Why is it this big now?"
When it had been on the Abyssal Yamato's head, the horn had been, at most, thirty to forty centimeters. Now it had practically doubled in size.
"It grew on its own. I'm sure the Commander knows why," U-47 said, hugging the odd horn, eyes shining. "I made a big contribution today—maybe I'll even get a campaign medal!"
"You'll definitely get one," Bismarck praised. Then she glanced north—no Abyssal flagships were catching up—and a deep doubt tugged at her.
That wasn't like Abyssal Musashi at all. She'd expected Musashi to throw everything into a reckless kill-rush.
Still, that suited her fine. Give it a few more days and their naval district would only grow stronger.
Less than a quarter hour later, the two stepped onto the quay. The shipgirls were already waiting.
Before anyone could ask, Bismarck fired questions at Lexington:
"How's the battle? What's Abyssal Musashi doing? Did we inflict any flagship kills?"
Lexington, eyes closed, was still piloting her air wing; it was Saratoga who opened her eyes to grouse back at Bismarck.
"The plan to force-kill Abyssal Musashi failed. Our planes got blocked by a literal swarm of their carrier aircraft. They're withdrawing north now. If we'd known, we would've picked off a different flagship—we've got nothing to show for it!"
"You opened the situation and covered the retreat—you both earned major credit," Bismarck judged fairly, then asked, "No damage to Abyssal Musashi at all?"
"Minor damage, more or less," Lexington said, opening her eyes to meet Bismarck's. "She was sandbagging a trump card. That one's got Turnabout Counter—she soaked our strike with it."
" Tch. Close call. So she'd been fishing for a way to set me up—and just didn't get the chance."
Bismarck felt a wash of relief.
Abyssal flagships had skills too: anti-air skills like Clear Skies; Abyssal Ryuujou had Hide the Head, Show the Tail (60% damage reduction); there were gunnery skills like Pinpoint Hit, reflection skills like An Eye for an Eye, and even Last Stand, which grew stronger as allies fell.
Turnabout Counter most often showed up on Abyssal Yamato—ignoring battle damage and, with each hit taken, generating a shield that blocked a set amount of damage.
Imagine if Abyssal Musashi had tangled with Bismarck, selling her own HP as bait—Bismarck might really have been the one to fall today.
But first, Musashi had held overwhelming advantage, leaving no room to sell HP; second, by the time she tried to play that card, two hundred bombers were already glittering overhead, forcing her to pop the skill defensively.
Saratoga, too, let out the breath she'd been holding. "Good thing we forced that skill out today. If she'd saved it for a solo breakthrough, we'd have eaten a nasty loss."
Bismarck nodded. "They really did pull back?"
"They did," Lexington replied. "We'll keep tight watch and guard against a quick return."
"Good." Bismarck looked toward the outer wall, where Saint George lay on resources, repairing, with Alaska and Blücher beside her. She frowned. "Did they say why they risked their lives to come here?"
Lexington flicked a glance at Yamato—whose face was very, very dark—and wore a complicated look. "Well… the reason's a little unexpected."
Then something occurred to her, and she smiled. "Oh, right—Blücher and the tiny one, Deutschland? They brought a big sack of specialties for the naval district. German sausages, beer, and the like."
Bismarck almost spit blood.
Earlier, she'd sent Helena and Leipzig to rescue the four-girl team and specifically reminded them: even on the brink of life and death, the others hadn't abandoned that big bundle; there might be crucial supplies inside—bring it back at all costs.
And what they'd hauled home through fire and fury… was a sack of regional specialties?!
[End of Chapter]
[100 Power Stones = Extra Chapter]
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