Perhaps it was because shipgirls were inherently creatures of belief—if a shipgirl believed herself to be lucky, she could pull off miraculous feats. That was why the Ring of Oath increased a shipgirl's luck: she believed that receiving her commander's wedding ring meant she was fortunate.
But luck was only ever the icing on the cake. No amount of luck could bridge the gulf in strength between Bismarck and Goeben.
For Bismarck to deal with Goeben, she didn't even need to use her skills. A single casual salvo was enough to kill her outright.
Impossible to resist. Absolutely impossible.
Goeben confirmed this in her heart.
Perhaps, in a way, this also proved Yamato's intel accurate. Goeben thought bitterly—Bismarck truly was an existence a step beyond the world's shipgirls.
Although Goeben had never witnessed Tirpitz's legendary might as the "Peerless War Goddess," from Bismarck herself, Goeben had indeed grasped what "invincible under heaven" meant.
The delegation had no shortage of fully-trained shipgirls, yet Bismarck dared to brazenly declare she would take a hostage right in front of them.
And all they could do was watch.
Swallowing down her bitterness, Goeben pressed Bismarck again and again—did she act of her own will? Did she understand the grave consequences? Was she willing to shoulder them all?
Bismarck couldn't be bothered to respond, simply telling her to leave.
Her dismissive attitude left the entire delegation seething; one person even let out a mocking snort.
Seeing that Bismarck was impervious to persuasion, Goeben's heart filled with anger and frustration. She waved her hand. "We're withdrawing!"
"Wait," Bismarck suddenly spoke, pointing toward the one who had made the derisive noise earlier. "You stay."
That man's rear clenched tight. When he realized everyone was staring at him, his face turned ashen.
Who would've thought Bismarck could hold a grudge this much!
Goeben frowned. Though the man was from the military, under the circumstances, as leader she was clearly responsible for protecting her people.
"If he's done something out of line, I'll apologize on his behalf. Bismarck, don't go too far."
Even as she said this, her chest burned with anger—she almost wanted to fire a shell straight at Bismarck.
To be this unreasonable, this tyrannical—and not even allow someone to let out a single hum of protest? One snort and you retaliate?
Ancient despots weren't any worse than this.
Goeben's opinion of Bismarck plummeted, but Bismarck's expression didn't change in the slightest.
Praise or condemnation from outsiders—what did it matter?
All that mattered was carrying out the mission entrusted to her superior.
"Not him. Him."
Bismarck pointed to the man beside the one who had made the noise.
This one was short and fat like a tree stump, with sparse hair on top—his head looked like a winter melon.
Winter Melon Head froze, pointing at himself in shock. "M-me? What did I do?"
The rest of the delegation grew even more furious, voices rising in protest.
Targeting the one who'd made the sound was already stretching reason—but why go after someone who hadn't said a word?
Bismarck ignored their outcry as if it were the croaking of frogs, her gaze fixed intently on Winter Melon Head. "You're hiding something."
He shook his large head in panic. "I don't understand—"
BOOM!
His melon-like head vaporized in an instant. His bulky body swayed, then spouted a fountain of blood before collapsing into the dark sea.
Goeben screamed. "Bismarck, what have you done?!"
It had been Bismarck, striking without warning, who had blasted Winter Melon Head apart with her ship guns.
Truth be told, none of the delegation had even registered the shot—had Bismarck announced her intention beforehand, they still would have died without any time to react.
The man who had made the mocking noise earlier felt his soul go cold with fear. If that cannon had been aimed at him, he'd be nothing but a corpse now.
[End of Chapter]
[100 Power Stones = Extra Chapter]
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