Yamato flushed with shame. In the battle where they ambushed the Abyssal flagship, she had first taken a pounding from the bombing runs, then carried the burden of shielding the carrier shipgirls against the Abyssal vanguard. Her own results had been negligible—yet she herself had nearly been sunk.
Of the six, she had taken the heaviest damage. And yet, burdened with responsibility, she had been rushing about ceaselessly without a moment's rest.
Thinking of this, Yamato clenched her fists. "For those rats in the gutter to resort to such vile tricks… just thinking about it makes me furious! You repair yourselves first—I'll return to the branch immediately. Even if I have to dig three feet into the ground, I'll find the culprit and bring them to justice for you!"
She turned at once, ready to leap into the sea.
"Not so fast." Bismarck reached out and pressed Yamato's shoulder. "Repair first."
Her voice was gentle, but the hand upon Yamato's shoulder was hard as stone—unyielding, resolute.
Yamato dared not, nor could she, resist the will of the one behind that hand. She lowered her head and murmured, "Then I'll repair first and go after. But I'll need at least ten hours… it'll be night by then."
"No rush. We have time."
Bismarck soothed her with words, but inside she was shaking her head.
I don't entrust justice to others. I don't need anyone else to deliver judgment for me.
Because I am Bismarck—the iron-blooded commander of the German fleet.
The mechanism hidden aboard the yacht meant the bath was no longer an option.
But truth be told, shipgirl repair required only resources. The long-standing custom of repairing through hot baths came from the shipgirls' own psychology. According to the shipgirl compendiums, they were creatures of strong will and emotion—good spirits led to faster healing. And what better lifted spirits after a battle than sinking into a hot, fragrant bath?
For those shipgirls who had received their admiral's wedding ring, the effect was even stronger. Their repair speed increased by thirty percent—not from anything physical, but from the bliss of being cherished, which uplifted their hearts and indirectly strengthened every aspect of their being.
Hikaru, having spent time at the academy, had heard another theory about shipgirl bathing.
Just as surface shipgirls considered submerging themselves in combat a humiliating taboo, their "bath repairs" also carried history.
In the past, when warships were damaged, they had to be hauled back to drydock for repairs—nicknamed "soaking in the tub." Thus, shipgirls inherited the habit of "taking a bath" when wounded.
Conditions didn't allow it now, and they could endure. In truth, being summoned to their admiral's side—being among the fortunate few chosen before hundreds of other comrades back at the base—filled the squad with happiness.
To them, missing out on a hot bath during repairs was a trivial matter, not even worth complaint.
Bismarck gathered the resources from the yacht and distributed them evenly, assigning each shipgirl what she needed for restoration. They absorbed the resources directly on the sea's surface while Saratoga and Ranger immediately launched aircraft to patrol within a hundred nautical miles.
Yamato thought nothing of Bismarck's behavior—rigid, disciplined, the strictness of a veteran.
But Saratoga and Ranger, who carried out her orders, knew the truth. Bismarck's focus wasn't the Abyssals to the south—her vigilance was aimed north, toward the human cities.
Bismarck… what are you planning?
In a pitch-black room, a voice suddenly echoed. Neither male nor female, it was clearly a disguise.
"No reaction? How can there be no reaction? Could it be they didn't notice?"
Another voice answered coldly. "We don't know. To minimize the risk of being discovered, those trinkets were equipped only with the most basic concealment and camera functions. They cannot transmit information back to us."
[End of Chapter]
[100 Power Stones = Extra Chapter]
[Check out my Patreon to read 20+ chapters ahead]
[[email protected]/BellAshelia]
[Thanks for your support!]