Perfikot’s operation selected nine suitable candidates from eighty White Bear Knights.
These nine are currently the only ones in the White Bear Knight Order who, after Perfikot’s inspection, meet the requirements to pilot the Flying Knight Armor.
Of course, Perfikot believes that others can also have the same qualifications after specialized training.
But for Perfikot, the number of Flying Knights is destined to be small.
Given this, why lower the selection criteria?
From the beginning, she didn’t intend to popularize Flying Knights, and the manufacture of Flying Knight Armor requires the Flying Stone, a product of Imaginary Alchemy, whose conditions for creation inherently limit the number of Flying Knights.
In fact, Perfikot thinks that even nine is too many.
But since they have been selected, Perfikot won’t eliminate anyone unless they are truly unsuitable; otherwise, these nine will be the future Flying Knights.
However, Perfikot didn’t make new Flying Knight Armor for them, but only gave them the first experimental set she made as training gear.
It’s not that Perfikot didn’t want to equip them with new Flying Knight Armor, but there are only two Flying Stones; one is used in that set of Flying Knight Armor, and the other is kept by Perfikot herself.
Without more Flying Stones, the production of Flying Knight Armor couldn’t be discussed at all.
Although the creation of Flying Stones isn’t difficult for Perfikot, she refrained from making more due to more complex considerations.
She even declared that the Flying Stone used for making Flying Knight Armor was the product of her previous efforts, not something newly made.
She did this simply because she didn’t want anyone to bother her.
The Military Department is eager for Flying Airships with bloodshot eyes; if Perfikot shows she can easily make Flying Stones and airships, those old guards would really block her laboratory.
Though creating a large Flying Stone and building a flying airship isn’t difficult for Perfikot, she doesn’t want to do so at this critical stage.
At this point, when everyone should unite and allocate all of the Empire’s resources to the doomsday response plan, using precious resources to build flying airships is a foolish behavior.
The production of conventional warships stopped last year to concentrate resources on truly necessary tasks.
As for flying airships? Perfikot sees no reason to build them outside fulfilling the Military’s desire for big toys, which would only waste money.
In peaceful times, she would proactively make flying airships without prompting from the army.
Such a construction would form a strategic deterrent to other nations and draw them into an arms race, draining their resources.
After all, the disparity between an alchemist who can perform miracles and ordinary alchemists is immense, especially since those alchemists can’t even manage a Philosopher’s Stone, let alone Flying Stones from Imaginary Alchemy.
Yet, if it were like that, Perfikot might be more reluctant to build flying airships, since in peaceful times without any apocalypses, she’d focus more on making money for her comfort rather than exhausting herself for the Empire and humanity.
Conversely, she might passionately engage in the design and construction of flying airships; after all, she once loved steampunk and was fond of flying airships.
Otherwise, she wouldn’t have created Flying Airships.
However, now with the world facing the threat of an apocalyptic winter, under no circumstances will Perfikot allow flying airships to waste precious resources.
Still, she underestimated the Military’s longing and aspiration for flying airships. ʀᴇᴀᴅ ʟᴀᴛᴇsᴛ ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀs ᴀᴛ novel-fire.ɴet
As soon as the news of the successful test flight of Flying Knight Armor reached Langton, the highest-ranking generals of land and naval forces took a military Flying Airship to the Northern Territory to block her laboratory.
Seeing more than twenty generals, Perfikot felt quite helpless but still welcomed them into her lab.
"To be concise, I know why you’ve come; there’s no chance for flying airships. The Crisis Response Committee and the Privy Council will not approve this budget, and even if someone proposes it, I’ll veto it at the Privy Council," Perfikot cut their hopes off from the beginning.
However, someone still stubbornly asked, "Not even one? Even if it isn’t a battleship, a cruiser would do! Just for technology verification! If budget is lacking, I’m willing to all my assets!"
Looking at the navy admiral who spoke, then at the hopeful eyes of other naval officers, Perfikot decisively shook her head: "It’s not about money, it’s about resources! Gentlemen, all of the Empire’s resources must be used where they’re most needed.
I cannot permit the Empire to use tens of thousands of tons of steel and valuable production capacity to build a warship that serves no purpose! It cannot bring any benefit to the Empire."
Perfikot’s words made the navy admiral’s face turn red, but he couldn’t counter her.
After all, as a senior naval officer, he knew about the doomsday crisis, so he understood that the Empire must use all resources in crucial areas.
The Empire truly cannot allocate substantial resources at this critical juncture to build battleships.
Otherwise, there would’ve been no need to halt all shipbuilding plans earlier; unfinished warships remain in dry dock, but it’s already decided in the Privy Council to dismantle them.
The admiral’s statement was merely an attempt to preserve a final semblance of naval glory.
When the apocalyptic winter freezes the oceans, the Empire will no longer need the Navy.
Though they might transition to duties as Flying Airship crews, the discrepancy between Flying Airships and flying warships is akin to that between sailboats and battleships.
But now, Perfikot’s remarks extinguished his last hope, leaving the admiral utterly dejected.