Of Steel and Roses: Silver-Haired Loli on a Rampage Chapter 8: Blood Rose

A torrent of steel ground across the earth as the roar of steam tore through the night sky.

Twelve Victorian Royal cha Knights advanced in a wedge formation.

Unlike the rusted scrap tal of the Usar, these war machines were pitch black, with brass decorations inlaid at the joints and family crests—griffins, roses, crossed longswords—carved into their breastplates, glinting with a cold tallic luster under the firelight.

Their movents were perfectly synchronized, like a well-trained cavalry squadron; every turn and acceleration was seamless. This was the Victorian Empire's proudest art of war—the mass charge of a cha Knight Order.

At the very front of this steel torrent, an exceptionally slender cha was leading at an astonishing speed.

Its paint job was starkly different from the others: not a solemn black, but a piercing bright red, like congealed blood or a rose in full bloom.

On its left shoulder plate, an exquisite family crest flickered in and out of sight amidst the flas.

A black rose entwined with thorns, its petals stained with three drops of blood—the crest of the von Schwartz Family.

“—Two hundred ters ahead, enemy fire point, eleven o'clock direction.”

Inside the cha's cockpit, a cold female voice rang out.

“Understood, Your Excellency.”

A respectful response from the adjutant ca through the communication channel.

“Third Squad, flank them. Fourth Squad, frontal suppression. The rest of you, assault with .”

The mont the command was given, that bright red cha took the lead and charged out.

Inside the cockpit, a pair of icy blue eyes stared at the battlefield ahead.

Eleanor von Schwartz.

The acting commander of the Victorian Empire's Seventh cha Knight Order, she had been titled a Baroness for military rit at only nineteen and was hailed as a genius pilot known as the 'blood rose.'

At this mont, the corners of her mouth curled up slightly into a dangerous arc.

“What a wonderful night.”

She whispered softly, her voice carrying an undertone that bordered on intoxication.

The Usar defensive line ahead was collapsing.

Those poor defenders were still imrsed in the joy of their dayti 'victory,' never expecting Victoriana to launch such a large-scale counterattack after nightfall.

When the first round of artillery fire fell, their command system had already descended into chaos.

And now, the iron hooves of the cha Knight Order were officially trampling over them.

“Your Excellency, enemy cha detected ahead! Quantity... three! They are trying to organize a defensive line!”

“Only three?”

Eleanor gave a light laugh. “The Usar people are getting stingier and stingier.”

Her cha accelerated towards the three hastily deployed Usar chas.

The opposing side was clearly a makeshift defensive force—two were old 'guardian-v' types, their armor covered in repair marks, and the third barely qualified as a main model, though from its tilted stance, its leg joint system was likely failing.

“St... Stop them! For Usar!!”

The hysterical roar of the enemy commander ca through the communication channel.

The three Usar chas raised their weapons—two heavy machine guns and a small-caliber rapid-fire cannon—firing at the charging Victorian Order.

A rain of bullets poured down.

However—

“Tch.”

Eleanor didn't even slow down.

Her cha tilted slightly, sliding through the gaps in the barrage at an incredible angle, while her right hand drew the weapon from her back.

It was a slender lance, its shaft engraved with intricate patterns, and pale blue steam slowly drifted from the tip.

“—The first one.”

The bright red cha, like a streak of bloody lightning, crashed directly into the enemy ranks.

The lance pierced through the breastplate of the first 'guardian-v' type; the high-pressure steam at the tip instantly erupted, vaporizing everything inside the cockpit.

Eleanor didn't pause, spinning the cha's body to hurl the impaled wreckage at the second enemy machine.

Boom!!

The two chas collided, falling to the ground in a tangled ss.

Before the main model with the leg problem could even adjust its cannon, Eleanor's cha had already closed in. The lance, like a viper's tongue, accurately pierced its knee joint.

“Ugh, waaaaah—!!”

A scream from the pilot ca over the communication channel.

Losing its support, the cha crashed to the ground, kicking up a cloud of dust.

From the start of the charge to the end of the battle, barely twelve seconds had passed.

“...Boring.”

Eleanor withdrew her lance, her tone carrying obvious disappointnt.

“Your Excellency, the Third Squad has completed the flanking maneuver, and the Fourth Squad is mopping up the remaining enemies,” the adjutant's voice ca through the communicator. “The target village is right before our eyes.”

“Good.”

Eleanor raised the cha's head and looked forward.

The village enclosed by low walls—or rather, the core warehouse complex of the Usar Union Army's Third Logistics Supply Station—was burning.

Artillery had already cleared the path for them in advance.

“All units, listen to my command.”

Eleanor's voice turned cold.

“The target is the warehouse district. Intelligence indicates that the experintal weapons our army lost in previous battles are likely stored here. Find them, destroy them, or bring them back. Leave no trace.”

“Yes, ma'am!”

Eleven responses rang out in unison.

“Furthermore—”

Eleanor paused, her mouth curling into that dangerous arc again.

“If you encounter resistance... do not hold back.”

...

Five minutes later.

The village had completely fallen.

The complex originally used for storing supplies was now a sea of fire, with thick smoke billowing straight into the sky. Sporadic gunfire still rang out; it was the Victorian infantry clearing out the remaining resistors.

Eleanor's cha stood in the central square of the village, her foot treading upon a completely destroyed Usar cha.

It was the mount of the supply station's garrison commander—a barely decent 'Iron Guard-III' type, but now its breastplate had been torn open with a massive rent. The cockpit was exposed to the air, and the pilot inside was still letting out faint groans.

“...Cough... cough cough...”

A blood-stained head erged from the damaged cockpit, glaring at Eleanor's cha with eyes full of hatred.

“Victorian... dog... cough... you bunch of... invaders...”

Eleanor lowered the cha's head with interest, as if observing a struggling insect.

“Invaders?”

Her voice ca through ❖ Nоvеl𝚒ght ❖ (Exclusive on Nоvеl𝚒ght) the loudspeaker, carrying an elegant mockery.

“Lord Commander, it was you who crossed the border first. We are rely... taking back what belongs to us.”

“Bullshit... cough cough... this land... has always been Usar's... you greedy... bandits...”

The Usar commander struggled to crawl out of the cockpit, but his legs were pinned by deford tal; every movent brought out more blood.

“No need for a history lesson.”

Eleanor nonchalantly manipulated the cha, slowly raising the lance.

“You should be proud of your courage, Lord Commander. To organize a decent resistance in the face of absolute disadvantage is a rare feat among Usar people.”

She paused, a hint of cold pity in her voice.

“Therefore, I will give you a dignified death.”

The tip of the lance slowly aid at that blood-sared head.

“...Go to hell... Victorian lapdog...”

The commander used his last strength to spit at the cha.

Eleanor raised an eyebrow slightly.

“So stubborn.”

She was preparing to deliver the final blow—

BOOM!!!

A deafening explosion ca from the right.

The entire square trembled from the impact.

Eleanor's movents abruptly halted, and the cha's head quickly turned toward the source of the sound.

It was originally the ruins of a warehouse completely destroyed by artillery—shattered wooden beams, twisted iron sheets, and burning supply fragnts piled up into a small hill.

And now, that small hill was collapsing.

The burning wreckage was pushed aside from within by so imnse force; wooden beams snapped, iron sheets flew, and a black silhouette slowly rose from the billowing smoke.

It was a cha.

Eleanor's pupils contracted slightly.

The state of that cha was pathetic—its left arm had completely vanished, its breastplate was riddled with bullet holes and scorch marks, and its right knee joint emitted a piercing tal grinding sound with every movent, accompanied by the clatter of falling parts.

From its paint and shape, it was a 'thug-iv' type, the lowest grade of Usar cha, two generations behind even the 'guardian-v' she had pierced through at the start.

This kind of junk usually served only two purposes on the battlefield: transporting supplies or acting as cannon fodder.

But what truly caught Eleanor's attention was the insignia on the cha's shoulder plate.

A circle crudely painted in red, with a crooked 'X' in the middle.

Punishnt Camp.

“...Interesting.”

Eleanor whispered softly, a playful light flashing in her eyes.

The Punishnt Camp, the most notorious unit organization in the Usar army.

Those imprisoned there were military criminals, rebels, and outcasts of society.

They were forced to pilot the shabbiest chas and execute the most dangerous missions, using blood and death to 'atone for their sins.'

Those who could survive the Punishnt Camp were either incredibly lucky or true monsters.

And the one before her—

“Clack.”

The swaying cha finally stood completely upright.

Firelight reflected off the armor of its head.

Amidst the flas, the tal eerily glinted with a faint red light, as if the cha itself had opened its eyes.

Eleanor's brow furrowed slightly.

Sothing was wrong.

As a veteran who had fought through many battles, her intuition was screaming warnings.

The cha's stance was very strange.

Ordinary pilots would have so habitual movents when operating a cha—shifts in center of gravity, fine-tuning of joint angles, minor balance corrections.

But the stance of the cha before her was completely different; every joint was at a near-perfect angle, as if...

As if it wasn't being piloted by a human, but had stood up on its own.

“Your Excellency, do you require support?”

The adjutant's inquiry ca through the communication channel.

“No need.” Eleanor's voice was as calm as water. “It's just a half-dead piece of junk from the Punishnt Camp; I can handle it alone.”

She maneuvered her cha forward a step, the tip of her lance aiming at the tottering target.

“Hey, you inside.”

Her voice broadcast through the loudspeaker, carrying a condescending arrogance.

“You are surrounded. Drop your weapon and open the cockpit; perhaps I'll give you a quick death.”

Silence.

The Punishnt Camp cha didn't react at all, still maintaining that eerie stance. The red light of its monitor flickered on and off, like a silent breath.

“Not answering?”

Eleanor's patience was wearing thin.

“Then don't bla —”

Before she could finish, the cha moved.

But it didn't run, nor did it surrender.

It slowly lowered its head, looking at its only remaining right hand.

Then, its fingers closed, gripping sothing.

Eleanor's pupils suddenly contracted.

It was a sword.

To be precise, it was a sword that shouldn't have appeared in such a place.

The blade was slender, less than two ters long, and entirely a deep black with faint red patterns flowing across the surface like a frozen river.

The hilt was wrapped in complex chanical structures that fitted perfectly with the cha's arm, as if the sword were tailor-made for it.

But what shocked Eleanor the most was the emblem engraved on the blade.

An emblem she knew all too well.

The insignia of the Victorian Empire's Royal Research Institute.

“That's—!”

Her voice suddenly rose, losing its usual elegance.

The experintal weapon.

The new type of weapon the Empire had spent countless resources developing, lost in a battle several days ago.

How could it be here?!

How could it be in the hands of a Punishnt Camp prisoner?!

No, according to intelligence, it really should be here!!

“Damn it...”

Eleanor's mind raced, countless possibilities flashing through her head.

But she had no ti to think.

Because that cha had already moved.

There was no warning, no movent to build up power.

One second it was standing still, the next it was right in front of Eleanor.

“—!!”

Eleanor's body reacted faster than her mind.

Her lance blocked horizontally, just barely parrying that sharp sword strike.

The massive clang of tal colliding exploded across the square, the shockwave kicking up a cloud of dust.