Crossover Shipgirls: Building a Dimensional Empire from Scratch

Cough—cough—

Clunk—

Rumble—

As the hatch of the Strike Freedom opened, two people, two Heroic Spirits, and four shipgirls climbed out of the cockpit.

Since none of them were ordinary humans, even falling from high altitude wasn’t fatal. The thrust from the boosters softened the impact, though the spinning descent had left everyone disoriented.

Ritsuka Fujimaru, who had been jostled dizzy in midair, was helped up by Taihou and Mash Kyrielight.

”Damn.”

”What the hell was that? Where did the dragon come from?!”

Setsuna shook his head and surveyed their surroundings. They seemed to have crash-landed in the middle of a city square. The impact had carved a massive crater, over a hundred meters in diameter, into the ground.

The city was a desolate ruin, with flames raging in every corner. The streets were littered with the horrific sight of civilians impaled on spears. Their corpses, skewered like grotesque trophies, showed signs of immense suffering before death.

”Ugh, this is disgusting…”

Taihou grimaced at the barbaric scene, something she had never witnessed before.

Roar—

Not far away, the source of their plight revealed itself: a massive dragon.

Its body spanned over a hundred meters, covered in impenetrable black scales. Two curved horns crowned its head, and its glowing yellow eyes radiated malice.

The sight instantly reminded Setsuna of Thor’s father from Miss Kobayashi’s Dragon Maid.

Having been knocked off balance by its collision with the Strike Freedom, the dragon staggered on the ground, shaking its enormous head as it scanned its surroundings.

”That’s… Fafnir?!”

Artoria Pendragon immediately identified the dragon.

It was the infamous creature from European mythology, once human, now transformed into a monstrous being obsessed with hoarding treasure and consuming anything in its path.

”Hah? Fafnir? That lackey of Black Jeanne’s?!”

”Where’s Jeanne Alter? Quickly, find her!”

Setsuna was already connecting the dots. Jeanne Alter, known as the ”Dragon Witch,” summoned this monstrous dragon during her campaign to obliterate France. If Fafnir was here, Jeanne Alter couldn’t be far.

Static—crackle—

”Is anyone else alive? Strange…”

”No… outsiders?”

Suddenly, Setsuna looked up sharply.

On the ruins of a cathedral nearby stood a man and a woman.

Both exuded an air of superiority, gazing down at him and his group with cold indifference.

The man was dressed in a black suit, his pale complexion and flowing white hair lending him the appearance of a medieval noble. Beside him was a silver-haired woman in a revealing gown, her single visible eye sharp and calculating.

”Master, they’re other Servants!”

Artoria instantly sensed the danger emanating from them and adopted a defensive stance. She gripped her holy sword with both hands, positioning herself protectively in front of Setsuna.

Thanks to the protection of the Invisible Air, the weapon remained shrouded from view.

”A Saber… and a Master?”

”Jeanne didn’t mention there were other Servants here in this city.”

”No, there’s also another Servant? And… some unknown figures?”

The man and woman scrutinized Setsuna’s party, their eyes lingering on the shipgirls. The unfamiliarity of the shipgirls, creatures from another world, left them momentarily perplexed.

”Vlad the Impaler and Carmilla?”

Setsuna identified the two immediately.

Both were Berserkers summoned by Jeanne Alter.

Vlad III, known as the Impaler or Dracula, was a legendary hero from Romanian history and the figure that inspired the modern vampire mythos. Renowned for his brutal methods, Vlad notoriously displayed his enemies impaled on stakes—a grotesque echo of the slaughtered civilians around them.

Meanwhile, Carmilla, the vampiric countess infamous for bathing in the blood of young women, stood as an equally macabre figure.

”So, the two of you and this dragon are responsible for all this carnage…”

”And you even broke aviation laws. Damn it.”

Setsuna scanned the area. The city was all but destroyed, its inhabitants massacred, leaving only rubble and flames in their wake.

”Eight against three,” he said decisively.

”Mash, protect Ritsuka Fujimaru. Richelieu and I will take on the dragon. Taihou and Formidable, handle Vlad. The rest, focus on Carmilla.”

In an instant, he laid out the battle plan.

”Understood.”

The shipgirls, as disciplined weapons of war, sprang into action immediately.

Boom! Boom! Boom!

A volley of covering fire instantly engulfed the area where the two enemies had just stood.

”Long-range projectile magic?”

The Berserker-class Servants reacted swiftly. Vlad leapt back, his sharp gaze fixed on the shipgirls’ materialized rigging.

Though he couldn’t comprehend the concept of rigging, he deduced through experience that it functioned as some kind of long-range magical device or Noble Phantasm.

”But this is already my domain…”

”Barbarians from another world, your execution is at hand!”

”Kazikli-Bey: The Lord of Execution!”

Whoosh—

Click-click-click—

Vlad activated his Noble Phantasm.

Countless spears materialized from thin air, emerging from all directions to skewer the intruders.

Once the tip of a spear pierced its target, additional spikes would sprout from within the victim’s body, mercilessly impaling them further until death.

As an Anti-Army Noble Phantasm, this attack was a chilling testament to Vlad’s epithet, ”The Impaler.”

”Earth, heed my command!”

With a wave of his hand, countless spikes erupted from the ground beneath Taihou and Formidable, trapping them in place.

”Heavens, heed my call!”

Above, a rain of thousands of spears formed in the sky, descending upon the trapped shipgirls.

The ferocity of the attack made Ritsuka Fujimaru shiver. She couldn’t stop herself from gasping in alarm.

Clang! Crack! Clang!

The entire battlefield transformed into a forest of steel, mirroring the grim spectacle of thousands of prisoners impaled on spikes—Vlad’s signature act of terror.

The Impaler surveyed his handiwork with satisfaction.

With such a relentless assault, no one could possibly survive.

Creak—Creak—

Suddenly, from within the dense forest of spikes, came a peculiar sound.

”…What the hell even is this?”

”This magic looks impressive—conjuring so many things out of nowhere. But I wonder, is this steel or iron?”

From amidst the spears, Taihou and Formidable emerged unharmed, casually prying apart the spikes around them.

Curious, they glanced around at the transformed battlefield.

It was their first time witnessing such terrain-altering magic.

The attack wasn’t particularly powerful, but it was undeniably intriguing.

”You’re not dead?!”

Vlad was stunned. His stakes couldn’t even scratch their skin. It defied reason.

”114 meters of waterline armor plus 64 meters of bulkhead armor. Reinforced composite steel. Sturdy enough for you?”

”And you think wooden sticks can pierce armored aircraft carriers? What’s wrong with your brain?”

Formidable knocked on her rigging with a knock-knock, striking a bodybuilding pose that nearly blinded Vlad with its brilliance.

”You little—?!”

Vlad couldn’t comprehend what she was saying.

Then he looked up.

”I shall deploy in Gundam form!”

Setsuna piloted the Strike Freedom Gundam, its thrusters blazing with multicolored streams as it soared into the air.

In one hand, he wielded a red plasma beam saber; in the other, a beam shield. The mecha darted around the massive black dragon, Fafnir, engaging it in close combat.

While smaller in size compared to the dragon, the Strike Freedom was far more agile, weaving circles around Fafnir and leaving deep, brutal gashes with every strike.

The dragon retaliated with a fiery breath, only for Setsuna to raise his beam shield. A dazzling array of energy deflected the scorching flames effortlessly.

”What in the world is that?!”

Vlad’s jaw dropped as he gawked at the Strike Freedom.

Its futuristic design was completely alien to him.

Was this… a Noble Phantasm?

But this was far too advanced! He’d seen swords, spears, and even entire armies summoned as Noble Phantasms, but never anything like this.

A whole mecha?!

Could this man be a Heroic Spirit from the future, wielding equipment incomprehensible to the present era?

”Are you a Master or a Servant?!” Vlad roared.

Setsuna smirked, his voice echoing over the battlefield.

”My class is Gundam!”

The eight-member team delivered swift and righteous justice, mercilessly ganging up on Vlad, Fafnir, and the Blood Countess.

From a combat standpoint, the weakest link in the team was undoubtedly Gudako. Since the Fate/Grand Order storyline had just begun, she was freshly inducted into Chaldea and essentially useless in battle. As such, Mash assumed the role of her bodyguard.

The rest of the team split into pairs, launching coordinated attacks against Vlad, Fafnir, and Carmilla.

Setsuna found himself attempting aerial combat for the first time, engaging Fafnir in an intense clash with his sword and shield. His movements resembled those of an Astartes from science fiction lore.

On the ground, Richelieu provided precise fire support. One by one, her battleship cannons fired salvoes that streaked across the sky, exploding on the black dragon’s massive frame and leaving gaping wounds.

”This is a super lifeform far beyond any Servant! Be careful!”

Meanwhile, Doctor Romani unfolded a holographic interface, offering the team critical assistance.

His monitoring of the situation via Chaldeas picked up the battle’s progress.

”Once the evil dragon is summoned, a dragon-slaying hero should appear as well. I strongly recommend you retreat for now and find the Dragon Slayer to help you…”

”Siegfried, huh…”

Setsuna pondered briefly. If the original plot were to be followed, seeking out Siegfried and having him wield Balmung to slay the dragon would indeed be the best approach.

But Setsuna wanted to test his mettle against Fafnir first.

”If a greatsword can slay a dragon, why can’t battleship cannons and Gundams? Times have changed, Doctor Romani.”

”All weapons, fire at will!”

Click, click, click—

The Strike Freedom Gundam’s eight DRAGOON System wings unfolded, sending a rain of energy beams crashing onto Fafnir.

In an instant, the sky was lit with a kaleidoscope of vibrant energy blasts.

The DRAGOON System allowed for multi-lock and omni-directional attacks under the user’s mental control. Each shot was precisely aimed at Fafnir’s weak points, relentlessly battering the massive dragon.

On the ground:

Boom! Boom!

Richelieu’s rigging unleashed a continuous barrage. Cannons of various calibers fired in rapid succession, striking Fafnir and drawing agonized howls as its scales were battered and charred.

”Hm. The enemies in this world are indeed much stronger than the ones before. A mythical creature lives up to its reputation,” Richelieu murmured, her mind briefly assessing the situation.

She recalled that during the previous confrontation with Doma, a single salvo from her cannon had utterly vaporized him.

The black dragon, however, was both tough and durable.

Resolute, Richelieu materialized her full combat arsenal and unleashed maximum firepower.

The skies erupted in a storm of explosions, fireballs blooming one after another as they engulfed the massive dragon.

”Is this brute force at its finest?!”

Doctor Romani could only marvel at Setsuna’s modernized dragon-slaying tactics.

On another front, Artoria led the charge against Carmilla in melee combat.

As an Assassin-class Servant, Carmilla was not adept at close-quarters combat and quickly found herself being overwhelmed by the King of Knights.

Desperate, she activated her inherent skill, Presence Concealment, vanishing into the shadows to prepare a surprise attack.

Unfortunately for her, Jeanne d’Arc wasn’t one to let the opportunity slip away. Without hesitation, Jeanne unleashed a relentless barrage of artillery fire at the location where Carmilla had disappeared.

The resulting devastation forced the Countess to scramble for cover, utterly routed.

After all, ammunition was free at the home base.

”Artillery duel? Sure thing. My 155mm naval guns say hello.”

”What… is this madness?!”

”Does she get to use her Noble Phantasms as much as she wants?!”

It wasn’t just the enemy who was stunned—Artoria herself was left speechless.

During her previous summoning in the Fourth Holy Grail War, she had encountered formidable humans and magi alike.

Whether it was Emiya Kiritsugu or Tokiomi Tohsaka, their abilities, though extraordinary, fell within the bounds of her understanding.

Mystic bullets, Time Alter, Jewel Magecraft—all were powers rooted firmly within the framework of mana.

But the combat methods of these individuals far exceeded any conventional limits.

For the first time, the King of Knights witnessed someone using naval artillery to fight on land.

In her time, the navy had not yet advanced to the era of sailing warships; battles were fought with oared galleys relying on archers and ramming maneuvers.

”What exactly are these—magic, Noble Phantasms, or weapons?!”

Artoria couldn’t make sense of it.

”Noble Phantasms!”

Jeanne mimicked the fighting style of Servants, activating the torpedo launcher integrated into her rigging.

She even shouted the name of her ”technique” for dramatic effect:

”Quintuple 533mm Magnetic Torpedoes!!”

Boom!

Five toy-sized torpedoes launched from her rigging, arcing through the air before rapidly expanding into six-meter-long magnetic torpedoes. Trails of fiery exhaust followed their trajectories as they locked onto Assassin’s hiding spots.

The resulting explosions leveled the surrounding rubble, leaving nothing but scorched earth in their wake.

”???”

”Why does your Noble Phantasm have such a bizarre name?!”

Artoria, typically calm and composed, could barely resist the urge to throw out a sarcastic remark.

Outside the city, after taking a direct hit from Vlad’s Noble Phantasm, the two armored carriers finally got serious.

”Uh, so our opponent is a vampire? Do you think garlic and crosses would work on him?”

Formidable scratched her head, encountering a truly supernatural creature for the first time.

”I didn’t bring any of that. Let’s stick to carrier aircraft.”

Taihou looked down at Vlad with an expression of utter disdain.

Hundreds of carrier-based aircraft roared into the sky, circling in formation like predatory birds.

”Commander-sama, may I use a hydrogen bomb?”

”If we want to completely eliminate pests like this, that would be the most thorough solution.”

Perhaps due to her elation from a recent promise, Taihou’s mood was exceptionally bright.

”Absolutely not! Use conventional weapons only!”

”Gudako and Mash are still here—they won’t survive a hydrogen bomb!”

Setsuna, currently busy pummeling Fafnir, was startled out of his focus by her casual suggestion.

A yandere’s first instinct was always to use the most extreme measures, even in combat. Still, having Taihou around as a companion was comforting… probably.

”Understood, Taihou!”

She and Formidable simultaneously gestured downward with their hands.

[Targets Locked]

[Tracking Process Initiated]

Fighter jets and dive bombers zeroed in on Vlad, raining down a relentless barrage of bombs and torpedoes.

Bombing a single target wasn’t a common tactic in the operational history of shipgirls, as they excelled in large-scale fleet and group battles.

However, this didn’t mean carrier shipgirls lacked the ability to take down single targets. The guns mounted on their aircraft weren’t for show.

The 20mm cannons on these aircraft could tear a person in half. Though Servants boasted formidable physical endurance, the sheer volume and precision of the carrier-based aircraft’s firepower overwhelmed Vlad.

Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang!

If Noble Phantasms represented the unique abilities or creations of individual Servants, then the shipgirls’ rigging was their equivalent.

In terms of destructive potential, there was often little difference between the two.

A single battleship shipgirl could annihilate an entire carrier strike group, while a carrier shipgirl’s aircraft could raze cities and topple nations.

From a conceptual standpoint, their capabilities could easily be classified as Anti-Army or Anti-Fortress Noble Phantasms.

With their full might unleashed, the battlefield resounded with deafening explosions, the relentless rattle of machine gun fire, and the sharp whistling of missiles slicing through the air.

Far away, about a dozen kilometers from the chaos, English and French soldiers locked in melee combat—wielding swords and catapulting stones at each other—gazed in stunned confusion toward the horizon where mushroom clouds loomed.

”What the hell is that?! A Trebuchet? A Basilisk? Do those things even have this kind of power?!”