The years 23 and 24 flew by, and as the summer of year 25 approached, the kingdoms and states of the Hylian continent began mobilizing their forces.
The so-called 'Alliance'—a term Kylia coined for the Valor States under Viskov—had mobilized approximately 1% of its population. The breakdown of their forces was as follows: Viskov with 400 men, Zeleny with 200 men, Sovi with 200 men, Pavo with 400 men, and Rosa with 100 men, totaling 1,300 Alliance troops, excluding the Kingdom of Kylia. However, the number of troops would likely increase to around 5,300 during the coming war, a mobilization rate of about 5% of the Alliance's population.
On the other side stood the 'Axis,' a name Kylia used to describe the coalition led by Hyrule, comprising only the Kingdom of Hyrule and the Northern Zora Settlement. Hyrule, with a mobilization rate of 5% over the last two decades, maintained a standing army of around 10,000 troops. Due to the constraints of medieval technology, Hyrule's military force was unlikely to expand further. The Northern Zora Settlement, with a similar 5% mobilization rate, had roughly 50 troops, and its population size made it unlikely that the settlement could contribute much more to the war effort. Despite these differences, Hyrule's army alone still outnumbered the Alliance by two to one and possessed a considerable technological edge in terms of equipment, excluding Kylia.
The Kingdom of Kylia, while not directly part of the Alliance, remained somewhat insulated from the conflict due to the natural barrier of the Western Trench River—a vast canyon stretching for dozens of kilometers and several hundred meters deep along the Kylian/Hylian border. However, Kylia's military had grown to 2,040 active personnel, approximately 2% of its population, with an additional 8,160 men in reserve, ready for mobilization. Kylia was expected to join the war, as it had long been anticipated that Hyrule's ambitions would not end with the conquest of the western continent—they would extend to dominating the entire land, including Kylia itself.
This does not mean Kylia feared the Hylians. Far from it. The past three years had given the kingdom ample time to prepare for war, and estimates of Kylia's military strength were promising.
Here is a snapshot of Kylia's current state:
Total Population: 102,000
Industrial Population: 18,367 (18% of total population)
Rural Population: 83,670 (82% of total population)
Land Area: 10,000,000 km²
GDP: 267,600,000 Kon
Revenue: 93,800,000 Kon
Total Debt: 278,500,000 Kon
Debt to GDP Ratio: 104%
Active Military Personnel: 2,040
Military Percentage of Population: 2%
Steel Production: 230+ tonnes per year
National Strength Index: 290
Rail Infrastructure: 41 kilometers
Kylia's debt-to-GDP ratio, though still high at 104%, had significantly decreased from its peak of 162%. This reduction in debt allowed the kingdom to finance another potential war. The population was projected to exceed 100,000 this year, with the industrial sector growing fourfold from 4,500 in year 23 to 18,000. While GDP per capita had slightly surpassed pre-war levels, wealth distribution across the kingdom remained uneven.
The Kylian Navy, expecting to play a big role in the upcoming war, has been expanded to four Sixth-Rate Ships, with two more ships' maiden voyages scheduled in the fall.
In addition to its naval expansion, The Kingdom of Kylia had now taken a decisive step into a new dimension of warfare: airpower. In late spring of year 25, Kylia City hosted the public flight of the KAS Korona—a 100-ton hydrogen-lifted military hybrid airship and the first successful heavier-than-air vessel in history. It was not a prototype, but a fully realized, combat-ready design—a product of three years of relentless effort, 10,000,000 Kon in state funding, and the personal direction of Queen Kylia herself.
On a planet where gravity measured 2.87 times standard and atmospheric pressure reached 2.87 atm, flight was no simple matter of lift and drag. The sheer mass of air, combined with local gravity, demanded colossal vessels, stronger materials, and massive energy output to achieve sustained buoyancy. The Korona had to be built with a mismatch of technology, most of the airship used tech from the late 19th century but the airship itself used advanced designs and alloys all the way to the 1950s. In fact the Kingdom of Kylia itself is a big miss match of technologies from 18th century Sixth Rate Ships to Post WW2 era alloys, but the average technology level of the Kingdom is around the earth analog of the 1910s.
The ship measured 94 meters in length and carried an internal volume of 105,000 cubic meters of hydrogen across six reinforced gas cells. The frame was composed of ultra-lightweight Kylian steel alloys engineered specifically for high-load tolerance. Powered by dual steam-turbine engines with adjustable three-blade rotary propellers, the ship achieved stable flight with room for a crew and payload capacity of up to 50 individuals—including command personnel, engineers, gunners, and observers.
The design was largely the work of Queen Kylia herself, who had used knowledge of classical lift theories, atmospheric fluid dynamics, and hydrogen containment well before the project began. Her initial models had been drafted in the workshop by hand, and many of the final systems aboard the Korona still bore annotations in her own script.
Citizens flooded the industrial harbors of Kylia City on the morning of the launch. From balconies, rooftops, and street corners, thousands watched as the vessel ascended into the sky, its massive frame carving a silent path through the morning haze. Onboard were twenty-seven personnel for the flight: a seasoned pilot cadre, several engineers from the Kylian Air Force, and scientists from the Kylian Institute of Technology. The vessel rose to 2,000 meters, performed a controlled circuit over the city, and returned without incident.
But as the Korona completed its final descent, it veered eastward instead of returning to its hangar, descending slowly toward the ceremonial heart of the capital. Waiting in the commercial district was a full military parade assembled in honor of the test.
At its head rode Queen Kylia, Commander-in-Chief of the Kylian Armed Forces. Mounted atop a white warhorse clad in lightweight parade armor, she wore a dark-blue command uniform with clean silver accents and a sash crossing her chest. Her black boots were sharply polished, and her blue hair was tied back beneath a lightweight cap that did not obstruct the sideways-K-shaped horn on her forehead. Her four wings remained folded behind her, feathers neat and motionless. She kept her expression reserved, offering a single raised hand to the assembled civilians before returning it to the reins.
A ripple of excitement ran through the crowd as she passed, small children waving miniature Kylian flags, their parents beaming with pride. Merchants paused their bartering, doffing their hats in respect, while vendors hawked sweet treats, their voices momentarily subdued by the solemn occasion.
Immediately behind her rode General Odin, General of the Blue Army of the Kylian Armed Forces. Mounted atop an obsidian-black warhorse clad in minimal armor, Odin cut an imposing figure. His uniform was a crisp navy blue with a silver bandolier crossing his chest, and his dark leather boots gleamed with fresh polish. He wore the deep-blue enamel badge of the Blue Army pinned above his heart. A sabre rested at his hip, ceremonial but well-used. The silver trim on his long coat shimmered faintly as the sunlight broke through the clouds, and a single plume of white, denoting his field rank, adorned his visored cap.
To Odin's left rode General Komada, Chief of the Kylian Air Force. His deep azul colored uniform was tailored to account for flight conditions, with reinforced seams and a sleeker silhouette. His coat bore the dual-wing insignia of the Air Force in silver thread across the back, and his backward-curving horns protruded cleanly from beneath a close-fitting officer's cap. Komada sat straight in the saddle, his gloved hand resting lightly on the pommel as his eyes followed the sky above the avenue.
General Viysʹkovo, Admiral of the Kylian Navy, followed at a measured distance. His uniform was a muted sea blue with darker trim and brass buttons, the high collar embroidered with a narrow wave pattern denoting naval command. Mounted on a grey warhorse, Viysʹkovo kept a firm posture and a watchful eye, his right hand resting on the hilt of a ceremonial cutlass that hung neatly at his side.
Beside him rode General Morsʹkyy, Commandant of the Kylian Marines. His uniform was colored like the wine colored sea, shoulders square and broad, with leather reinforcement at the joints and a gold-accented rank patch sewn onto the left arm. His dark green boots were well-maintained but bore scuffs from field use. Unlike the other generals, Morsʹkyy wore no gloves, and his horse's reins were held in calloused hands that rarely left the field for long
Behind the generals marched 260 of Kylia's regular forces, drawn from across the services. The formation included foot soldiers in parade gear, a mounted detachment with lances, and a team escorting field artillery pulled by warhorses. Their pace was steady, synchronized. The brass marching band led the column, dressed in formal blue and silver, performing the Kylian anthem—a fast-paced arrangement with a bold, layered sound, heavy on percussion and brass.
As they reached the plaza's center, a rhythmic chant began to rise from the ranks of the foot soldiers–low at first, then louder, until it filled the air with thunderous force.
"OORAH! OORAH! OORAH!"
The cry surged through the formation like a living wave, voices unified in perfect cadence. Civilians gasped, then broke into wild applause, swept up in the power and discipline of the chant. The troops marched in unison, their boots striking stone in time with the beat, the word echoing off buildings like a battle drum of defiance.
The music swelled, joining the chant in a thunderous climax that filled the plaza with a sense of unity and purpose. The crowd roared its approval, their voices blending with the instruments and the chant to create a powerful wave of patriotic fervor.
As the parade reached the edge of the central plaza, a low hum became audible overhead.
The Korona emerged from the east.
The hum intensified, morphing into a deep, resonant thrum that vibrated in the chests of the assembled crowd. All eyes lifted skyward, necks craning to behold the majestic airship as it descended. The Korona, a behemoth of steel and fabric, eclipsed the sun, casting a vast shadow over the plaza. The collective gasp of the crowd was almost as loud as the churning of its propellers.
Queen Kylia, her expression unwavering, tilted her head slightly upwards. The wind whipped at her face, lifting strands of her blue hair, but her gaze remained fixed on the approaching vessel. Beside her, General Odin remained impassive, his dark eyes narrowed against the glare. General Komada, however, visibly straightened in his saddle, a flicker of pride in his expression. Admiral Viysʹkovo adjusted his posture, his hand tightening on the hilt of his cutlass. General Morsʹkyy, ever pragmatic, scanned the sky, his calloused hands firm on the reins.
The Korona executed a slow, graceful arc above the parade, its reinforced gas cells gleaming in the sunlight. From the gondola beneath, a banner unfurled, emblazoned with the Kylian Crest—a stylized representation of the K-shaped horn, encircled by twin wings.
As the airship passed directly overhead, a series of pyrotechnic charges ignited, showering the plaza with a cascade of blue and silver sparks. The crowd erupted in cheers, their voices echoing off the surrounding buildings. The marching band amplified their rendition of the anthem, the brass instruments blaring in joyous celebration.
The Korona continued its descent, slowly lowering itself until it hovered just a few meters above the plaza. A rope ladder was lowered from the gondola, swaying gently in the breeze. The crowd collectively held its breath, anticipating the next act.
As the Korona stabilized above the plaza, a figure emerged from the gondola, carefully descending the rope ladder. It was Stalevi, the young Lavovy blacksmith and elected leader of the artisans who had played a pivotal role in Kylia's industrialization. His hands, calloused from years of hammering steel, were smeared with grease, evidence of the countless hours spent ensuring the new steel methods were implemented with precision. Despite his hardened exterior, his eyes shone with a quiet pride, reflecting both the challenges he had faced and the triumphs that had come from his leadership.
Behind him followed the rest of his team, artisans and engineers alike, their faces equally marked by the effort of bringing the Korona to life. They, too, had spent years pushing the boundaries of what was possible, using their skills to create the formidable steam-turbine engines that powered the airship. Each of them was greeted by a wave of applause from the gathered crowd.
Stalevi straightened his tunic, his mind racing. This moment was not just an honor for him, but for the entire team that had worked so hard to ensure that Kylia would no longer be dependent on external steel sources. The Korona, an embodiment of Kylia's industrial revolution, symbolized their hard-won independence.
As the last of the engineers reached the ground, Queen Kylia spurred her warhorse forward, parting the ranks of her generals with regal bearing. She dismounted with practiced ease, her boots landing softly on the cobblestones, and approached Stalevi and his team.
"Engineers of Kylia," she announced, her voice clear and resonant, "today, you have given our kingdom more than just a flying machine. You have given us hope, strength, and a glimpse of the future. With ingenuity and dedication, you have achieved the impossible."
The crowd roared its approval. Queen Kylia raised a hand, silencing them with a single gesture.
"For your extraordinary service to the Kingdom of Kylia," she continued, "I bestow upon you a Kylian Medal of Honor." She pinned the medal on Stalevi's tunic, then to each member of his team.
Then she turned to Stalevi once more. "Your work on the Korona has set a new standard for Kylian engineering. I understand you have patented the design yourself, as is your right as its inventor. What is your next ambition?"
Stalevi, overwhelmed by the honor, gathered his composure. "Your Majesty, with your blessing, I wish to establish a company-Stalevi's Skyworks-to build airships for Kylia. With state support, we can refine the Korona, develop new models, and ensure our kingdom's skies are protected by the best vessels we can craft."
Queen Kylia smiled, her expression warm and genuine. "Then so it shall be. The Kingdom of Kylia will fund Stalevi's Skyworks as our official airship manufacturer. Your company will supply the Kylian Air Force and, in time, all who wish to see our nation soar."
The crowd erupted in cheers, their voices shaking the very foundations of the city. Queen Kylia remounted her warhorse, surveying the assembled forces and the majestic airship above.
"Kylia is strong," she declared, her voice ringing with confidence. "We have overcome adversity, rebuilt our nation, and now, we stand ready to face any challenge that lies ahead. Let us look to the sky-and to the future!"
The marching band struck up a more somber, martial tune, the drums pounding a relentless rhythm that echoed the Queen's call to arms. The soldiers straightened their ranks, their eyes fixed on their commander-in-chief. The generals, seasoned veterans of countless battles, nodded in agreement, their faces grim but resolute.
As the music swelled, the Korona slowly began its ascent, its massive frame rising gracefully above the plaza. It turned eastward, disappearing into the horizon, a symbol of Kylia's new found strength and determination. The crowd, still buzzing with excitement, began to disperse, their hearts filled with a mixture of pride and apprehension. The war that had been looking for so long was now inevitable. The Kingdom of Kylia, armed with its newly strengthened military, a powerful navy, and a revolutionary airship, was ready. The future, however uncertain, had arrived.