Overall, the Vite Grand Master still looked remarkably intact. The glossy, crystal-clear coating on its hull did not even seem scratched, and even the Imperial crest on its forward sloped armor—a dragon with eight heads roaring at the stars—remained perfectly intact.
If one overlooked the dent in the middle-forward section of the ship, this vessel, looking as if it had just been polished and waxed, might even have qualified to take part in His Majesty's military parade.
In truth, the dent was not particularly conspicuous. A careless person might even have overlooked it.
But to an expert, it was the most terrifying wound of all. Or rather, the fact that it had only one such wound made it all the more horrifying.
Even Jager Sobek, whose knowledge of warships was barely above the average Imperial senior officer's, could recognize that the spot was where the bridge of a Corona-class dreadnought was located.
Sobek gazed at the formidable triangular warship, at the appalling wound in the middle of its hull. In addition to feeling sorrow, he felt a little grief, too. It was as if some ideal from his past had been tarnished.
Then he heard Miss Seluru sigh, "How tragic... I heard there wasn't a single survivor on the bridge."
Captain Pegase said, "That's right. More than two thousand people, from Lieutenant General Karaman to the fleet's chief of staff, the chief navigator, and the captain, first officer, and second officer—all wiped out. Boohoohoohoo..."
He really was not faking it. His voice was choked with emotion.
Viscountess Seluru glanced at the captain in confusion. "I had no idea you shared such a deep bond of comradeship with them."
"I didn't know a single one of the dead. It's just that this ship was my dream vessel!" Captain Pegase lamented. "My