Chapter 230 229

The iron-clad hull of the Marleyan patrol ship groaned as it settled against the unfinished northern dock. The sound carried across the mist-washed bay like a dying animal exhaling its last breath. For generations, the people of the Walls had feared that sound—the arrival of an enemy they could not comprehend. But now, it signaled something different.

A beginning.

I

The deck was quiet when the last plumes of smoke drifted away. Moments earlier, Lock had ordered a controlled burn at the cabin entrance. The soldiers fanned the smoke inward using broad paddles scavenged from the storage wagons—crude tools, yet effective. Within minutes, the remaining Marleyan officers and soldiers coughed their way out into the open air, collapsing to their knees before they even saw who awaited them. They were taken without resistance. The ship itself suffered no significant damage.

Now it belonged to Paradis.

Lock had always known this moment would come. The Volunteers had warned him weeks earlier that Marleyan ships passed these waters every few months, even if irregularly. Losing a patrol vessel meant the empire would eventually investigate. The bay's secrecy was already slipping through his fingers like sand.

But secrecy alone would never win this war.

He leaned on the cold stone cliffside above the shore, staring down at the captured vessel. The salt wind tugged at his coat, carrying a faint scent of metal and sea brine. His expression remained calm, unreadable.

Behind him, Petra Rall, Squad Leader Miche Zacharius, and Captain Erwin Smith watched him in silence. They were used to his steady demeanor by now, but the scale of his plans always left even them bracing for impact.

Erwin spoke first, his voice low, as if afraid the waves might overhear.

"Yelena's group will arrive with more ships soon. When they notice that this patrol vessel has vanished, Marley will not send another lone ship. They will assume a breach. They will escalate."

Petra folded her arms, glancing toward the dark mouth of the cabin where the Marleyan prisoners had been dragged from earlier. "They will think Titans were involved. And they'd be right."

Lock's lips curved into a faint smile, but his eyes did not leave the sea. "Let them think that. It will work in our favor."

Miche adjusted his stance, long limbs planted like an idle watchtower. "Work in our favor how? Fear spreads faster than truth. Once Marley believes Titans obey us, they will tread more carefully—but careful enemies hit harder when they finally strike."

Lock finally turned away from the ocean and faced them fully.

"Careful, enemies hesitate. Hesitant enemies give us time." His voice was firm, edged with strategic certainty. "Marley has military power, but they fear what they cannot predict. Titans that turn away from steel ships… Titans hidden beneath the waves… a patrol fleet vanishing without warning… It disrupts their logic. It forces them into reaction, not action."

Erwin exhaled slowly. "And you intend to strike again while they're reacting."

Lock nodded. "Exactly."

The wind carried his words across the cliff like an oath.

II

The northern bay had transformed rapidly in the past two months. Where once there had been nothing but wandering Titans and untouched coastline, there were now:

A crescent-shaped settlement zone

Defensive relay towers built from reinforced timber and stone

Supply depots stocked with gas cylinders and ODM maintenance kits

Hundreds of Volunteers and Survey Corps technicians are drafting industrial plans

Farmland stretching outward like a reclaimed future

But even a paradise built in paradise could become a battlefield if left unguarded.

The arrival of this first ship was proof.

The next arrival might be war.

Lock walked along the shoreline path toward the temporary command base. The others followed. He spoke as he walked, tone practical, mind already dissecting the next phase.

"The harbor design plans are solid. Onyankopon's engineering team is already refining steel quality. With Yelena's formulas, we will mass-produce industrial-grade alloy in months, not years. Once we have reliable iron-carbon density and tensile consistency, we can build battleships—not relics."

Petra trotted her horse to match his pace. "You make it sound easy."

"Nothing in this world is easy," Lock replied. "But it is achievable."

Miche's horse snorted, sensing the shift in mood. "Then the problem is manpower and defense. Seventy thousand civilians moved north under the promise of safety. If Titans begin reappearing, or ships bombard the coast, morale cracks. Faith cracks. Government cracks."

Lock did not flinch at the harsh realism. "Which is why we cannot wait for them to attack first."

They reached the tent-reinforced headquarters. The cloth walls snapped in the wind like sails not yet worthy of the ocean. Inside, maps and hand-drawn schematics covered every surface.

Paradis was learning to dream again—but dreaming alone did not forge steel.

III

The plan to send Kenny Ackerman to Marley had originally been logistical convenience. Lock needed someone with enough brutality, stealth, and reputation to infiltrate an empire built on Titan power. But Kenny had also wanted to leave the island himself—tired of the monotony, the quiet stagnation of the Walls. He wanted the outside world. The chaos. The challenge.

Lock understood him more than anyone else ever could.

But now Kenny was more than a soldier. He was an asset inside enemy territory.

A blade embedded in the opponent's ribcage.

Lock spread a map of the northern coast on the table and tapped a marked valley west of the settlement zone.

"If we strike Marley next, we must disrupt their internal chain of command, not their coastline patrol alone. Titans are powerful weapons, but their greatest weakness is human operators who believe they're in control."

Petra and Historia entered the tent at that moment. Historia removed her cloak hood, blonde hair brushing the dim lanternlight like a calm flame.

"Talking about Titans again?" she asked lightly.

Lock glanced at her briefly, but did not repeat any questions already answered in context. He already knew she supported the mission, even if she carried the weight of her father's imprisonment.

"We're talking about taking initiative against Marley," Lock answered.

Historia sat near the map table, eyes steady. "I can help."

"You will," Lock said, tone gentle but direct. "But not on the front line. Not yet."

Petra stiffened. "Then who?"

Lock lifted his gaze toward Erwin, then Miche, then back to the map.

"Me."

The tent fell silent again. Even the lantern flame seemed to be still.

IV

Lock was no longer a 16-year-old squad leader scrambling to gain influence. He was the backbone of a nation now staring down the ocean with intent, not fear. He had prestige, military authority, tactical intellect, and above all—the ability to ensure the island did not collapse if he vanished for a short while.

Because he had prepared successors.

Because he had prepared a contingency.

Because he had prepared Titans to bow to coordinates when needed.

Erwin ran a hand through his hair. "Lock, this is reckless."

"It is necessary," Lock replied immediately.

Miche leaned forward. "You said earlier that a single person should not shoulder everything."

Lock smirked. "And I meant it. Which is why I'm only handling what only I can handle."

He placed a pen on the map again and began outlining the western coastal route leading to the Volunteer contact zone. His hand was steady. Precise. Fast. Every line measured not in distance but consequence.

"A safe passage from Wall Maria to the bay took months to build. The acceptance of the people inside the Walls took generations to shatter. We cannot let Marley rebuild their logic faster than we can rebuild our future."

He stood up and faced them fully, voice resonant like a commander addressing his corps.

"I will enter Marley to contact Kenny directly. I will coordinate with Yelena's faction from inside enemy territory. I will destabilize their belief that Titans alone can secure victory. And if necessary, I will bring the truth of Titan power crashing onto their homeland before their fleet ever reaches ours again."

His words were not loud. They did not need to be.

Everyone felt them.

V

Beyond the Walls, Titans did not care about blood pacts, treaties, or politics. They only cared about instinct and influence. Lock knew that if Ymir Fritz's power had once enslaved the world, then the same power, when refined and wielded with intent, could liberate it—or burn it to the ground.

It was not noble.

It was not merciful.

It was not naive.

It was an ar strategy.

Petra rose and met his gaze, steel resolve in her eyes. "We trust you. But you're not stepping inside that empire alone without support. Yelena already made her allegiance clear. Onyankopon is executing your industrial vision without hesitation. Levi and Miche have fortified the south of the island with elite discipline. And I will make sure the inland does not crack while you're gone."

Historia nodded beside her. "We'll hold the island. Just as you held the truth for us."

Erwin sighed again, but this time in reluctant agreement. "Fine. But the moment you set foot in Marley, you stop being a commander—you become a spark. Sparks can start fires, but they can also be smothered. Do not let yourself be smothered."

Lock tapped his fist lightly against his chest. "I know how to burn without being burned."

He mounted his horse again. The other soldiers prepared wagons in the distance, unaware that the true march had already shifted from northward settlement to pre-emptive warfare strategy.

Lock took one last look at his companions.

"You defend the Walls. I will breach theirs."

VI

The march out of Wall Maria was no longer symbolic. It was irreversible. The stone gate had closed behind him once, sealing the sight of his people from the Titans outside. But now, the stone gate closed for a different reason:

Not to lock humans in.

But to keep Titans out until Lock returned to unleash them at his command.

Lock rode south toward the supply path, ODM cylinders rattling lightly behind him in the saddlebag like distant thunder.

In his mind, he rehearsed not glory but sequence:

1. Contact Kenny inside Marley

2. Confirm Volunteer faction coordination

3. Disrupt Marleyan command logic

4. Establish internal intelligence routes

5. Prepare Paradis' counter-offensive timing

6. Return before morale or treasury collapses

He had no illusions. Only trajectory.

Only preparation.

The only certainty was that the ocean was no longer a boundary, but a road.

A road to war.

A road to the future.

A road he would carve personally.

VII

As the wind howled across the bay and the ship sat still like a conquered monument, the soldiers who witnessed this event whispered unconsciously—not out of worship, but belief.

"Long live Paradis."

"Long live Lock."

And for the first time in generations, their voices did not tremble at the Titans' shadow.

Because this time, the shadow was theirs.

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