The Storm King

The mist enshrouded the mountains, even as far as the Talons now that their defenses were raised. But thanks to blood magic, he and his group were able to speed through the mountains with surety and ease, not impaired in the slightest.

Their enemy behind them found the veil a much harder obstacle; hardly five minutes passed before Leon felt the pulsing of magic engines behind him, and the thunder of Lightning Lances ahead firing their bolts. His side’s Lance fire was answered in kind, though the whale-like arks he could sense behind his group were moving erratically, and their Lancefire was so off their targets that they appeared random.

‘Seems the veil is working,’ he thought with some satisfaction. Hardly a balm to the losses he’d sustained over the day, but seeing the defenses tested and, at least in this initial stage, hold strong was encouraging.

The journey over the mountains was as intense as it was short. Several times an Ocean fighter came speeding past, only to be hit by a Lance bolt or crash into one of the enormous trees blanketing the mountains. Once, Silver Spear cruised past and fired its main cannon at an enemy heavy cruiser, striking it in the midsection and inflicting terrible damage. The enemy heavy cruiser was unable to muster a meaningful response, and Silver Spear’s secondary Lances took it apart with almost insulting ease.

As his group passed over the mountain wall, Leon’s anger was somewhat quenched as Ocean arks decorated his mountains with their wreckage but didn’t fade entirely.

The fighting continued even as Leon’s group exited the misty veil within the Artor Valley.

Looking to Anastasios and Eva, Leon ordered, “Thank you for your aid, it was beyond timely. Though I am now in your debt, I must ask you for further assistance; assist my forces in pushing our enemies back.”

“There’s no need to ask for formally, my boy!” Anastasios boomed with a good-natured laugh, which contrasted with the man’s torn and blood-soaked tunic—the old man himself looked hale and hearty despite this apparent damage, though.

“We are family, young man,” Eva sternly added. “I am here to help! Whatever you need!”

Leon smiled in gratitude. “Head into the mist, then, and wreak havoc.”

“That we can do,” Anastasios confidently stated as he shared a look with Eva. Without another word, they turned and charged back into the mist.

Leon then looked to his wives and demonic partner. “Let’s get to the southern Talon. See what needs to be done from there. You still want to be out, Xaphan?”

“I’ll head back in,” the demon lazily stated, and a moment later, his body shrank to the size of a candle’s flame and vanished into Leon’s chest.

With that handled, Leon breathed a quick sigh of relief and exhaustion while he led Maia, Cassandra, and Valeria around the edge of the veil toward the southern Talon less than ten miles away.

“How bad are your injuries, Leon?” Valeria asked as they flew.

“Healing quickly enough,” Leon replied.

“It’s too bad we didn’t kill any of those bastards,” Cassandra viciously growled. “I’m surprised they stood against you in your bird form as long as they did, though.”

Leon grimaced. “They’re strong, we’d be fools to think otherwise. That guy at the end, ‘Terris’ I believe his name was… He’s stronger than me. Significantly. If he’s the one in charge of that force… I don’t think any of those mages would’ve been brought here if they weren’t at least competent fighters.”

[We’ll kill them anyway,] Maia declared, and Leon could feel her confidence and certainty.

“Definitive,” Cassandra observed. “How can you be so sure?”

Maia ruthlessly smiled. [We are more prepared.]

“They have more resources,” Valeria replied. “We’re outnumbered and outclassed. We have the better position and we’re dug in, but… I’m not sure we’re going to fight our enemy off this time. Not without dreadful casualties, at least…” She sent an apologetic look Leon’s way, but he didn’t mind her words. If anything, he was grateful to hear her perspective on the matter.

To some extent, he agreed with her. Many of his people had already fallen by this point, and as he cast his gaze about, he could see a carrier already on an arkpad with such catastrophic damage to its hull that he figured it only barely made it back and wouldn’t be flying again for a while. A heavy cruiser was there in a similar state of disrepair, while two destroyers and three frigates had made emergency landings throughout the southern half of the valley.

He had precious few arks left, and that meant he had few warriors remaining, too.

“However this ends,” Cassandra murmured with audible determination, “we have to fight. I detest the idea of lying down and waiting for death, or bowing to some arrogant Nexus Lord, or being run out of our claimed land!”

A smile spread across Leon’s face. He couldn’t agree with her more, but before he could express as much, they arrived at the southern Talon.

Upon the Talon’s roof sat Red, Nidar, and Astar, the three wyverns looking worse for wear, the two younger wyverns in particular looking like they were barely able to hold themselves up. Anna, Eirene, and a bunch of Bear beastmasters were already seeing to them.

In the fields behind the Talon, Leon could see dozens of MALLs parked, most of which looked damaged. These were the survivors of the force sent to augment his arks’ firepower, and he was grateful to see that more than half of them survived, and if the people milling about was any indication, many crews from destroyed MALLs survived, too.

“Brother!” shouted the familiar voice of Anzu, the young albino griffin now in human form and hovering a few dozen feet above the fortress’ main rooftop entrance. He shot toward Leon, slowing barely an arm’s length away and pulling Leon into a hug. “I thought you were lost!”

Leon laughed even as his still-healing wounds flared with pain. He gently pushed Anzu off, though not away, and said, “You’ll not be rid of me just yet, little brother. Not yet.”

Anzu grimly nodded. “The Jaguar of the West was concerned that you hadn’t joined the retreat. You should go talk to him.”

“Right,” Leon agreed. “It’ll be good to get an update from him in person.” He glanced at his wives. “Let’s go.”

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Into the fortress they descended, past hurrying soldiers and Tribal warriors, all of whom paused to bow to Leon and his wives as they passed. In only a few minutes, they arrived in the main control room of the fortress, a bare and sparsely decorated room that was serving as the de facto command center for the battle. Dozens of enchantment control consoles were spread out in a semi-circle around a raised dais, close enough that whoever stood upon the dais could comfortably hear or command anyone sitting at the consoles.

Additionally, guards and runners stood around the walls and by doors, while comms officers sat at desks behind the raised dais. All around the room were projected screens showing as much of the battlefield as possible, which had entirely moved into the misty veil by this point. Only a single screen showed the plains to the south, and though it was a single limited angle, Leon still cringed internally from seeing hundreds of burning wrecks of varying sizes out in the plains. It was a small comfort, however, that the tsunami that bore the Ocean arks and which still concealed their largest war beasts hadn’t moved further in.

That comfort was small when he saw that the Ocean forces were already establishing something of a base camp just off the beach. It seemed they didn’t intend to leave anytime soon.

“Your Majesty!” one of the guards exclaimed as soon as Leon entered the room.

“Relax,” Leon ordered the entire room, which had momentarily frozen due to his arrival.

“My King!” the Jaguar boomed from the dais.

Leon hurried over, his family not far behind. “As quickly as you can, bring me up to speed.”

Without missing a beat, the Jaguar ordered Lana and the rest of his adjutants, “Continue with our current strategy! Notify us if anything changes!”

A chorus of acknowledgments followed. Then he turned back to Leon, and Leon felt his magic brush up against his mental defenses. Understanding what he wanted, he let the Jaguar through.

[It’s grim,] the Jaguar admitted. [Two carriers went down in the plains. Four frigates, a destroyer, and three heavy cruisers joined them.]

Leon’s face fell. By his count, and taking the damaged arks he’d seen in the valley into account, his fleet was left with two frigates, one heavy cruiser, one carrier, Bolt in Shadow, and Silver Spear.

And then the Jaguar cut that count down even further.

[Two frigates are unaccounted for—presumed crashed in the mountains. The carrier has lost more than half of her fighters and almost as many Ulta suits.]

[I saw what we had in the valley,] Leon stated. [What can you tell me about them?]

[Not much right now,] the Jaguar admitted. [We’re still evaluating damage and functionality. The remaining fighters and Ulta suits from that downed carrier have joined with the flights from the remaining carrier, as have the survivors from the other carrier flights.]

Leon nodded, taking it all in as dispassionately as he could. He directed his attention to the screens.

[And our enemy?]

[The veil is working,] the Jaguar said. [Their arks are floundering, making them easy pickings for our tower Lances and the arks we retain. We’ve already brought down four enemy frigate-sized arks, a destroyer, and a heavy cruiser. One of their light cruisers even crashed of its own accord.]

Leon nodded again. [I sent Anastasios and Eva back into the mist to assist as much as they can. I forgot to ask them if they killed their opponents during their duels; did you happen to see them?]

[They did not kill their opponents,] the Jaguar informed him. [They retreated with grave injuries, however.]

A quiet smirk passed quickly over Leon’s face. [At least they fared better than I did. I’ll stay here a little longer before rejoining the battle. For now, act as though I’m not here. I’m not going to micromanage.]

The Jaguar bowed and turned back to the battle. For the most part, he didn’t even have to give many orders, he simply ordered the remaining arks about so that they could engage the most high-profile targets. The tower Lances already had their established fields of fire, though the Jaguar also made some adjustments as the battle continued.

Seeing the success they were having at this point, Leon started to relax. Though they’d taken enormous losses, the day wasn’t over yet…

---

As soon as Terris plunged into the mist, confidence oozing from his every pore, the differences between up and down, forward and backward, right and left ceased to exist. His stomach turned as his sense of balance was thrown out of whack, while the mist thickened and dulled his sight and hearing.

He stopped moving and closed his eyes, anger bursting from his heart like a steam geyser.

“COWARDS!” he boomed as he projected his magic, seizing control of the mist around him. His skill in water magic was higher than any other mage on the battlefield and no doubt existed in his mind that this obstacle could be pushed back.

The mist around him jerked back half a dozen feet, and then another half dozen when he pushed again. At twenty feet, the mist began moving more sluggishly, and at thirty, it stopped being pushed back altogether.

A pathetic showing in his opinion, causing his geyser-like anger to erupt again. But he kept himself restrained, for at last with the mist’s retreat, he was able to see and hear as normal again, for at least a short distance.

He could feel the rippling magic of the battle raging around him, and it was only these ripples that cued him into diving rapidly as a Lance bolt passed right through where he’d been hovering but a moment before. Given his power and armor, he doubted it would’ve killed him, but maiming was always possible…

He raised his mace of black ice and fired an ice shard the size of his finger into the mist in the direction he guessed the shot had come from. Though muted, he sensed the shard’s icy detonation a full second later, indicating that it likely missed his intended target. He certainly couldn’t hear the lamentations of those who witnessed their comrades killed by his Ebon Glacier.

Another bolt came peeling through the mist at such a speed that Terris barely managed to dodge.

With a cry of defiance, he launched another ice shard, but this time, he didn’t wait around to see where it impacted and started trying to bob and weave, making himself as hard of a target as possible. He still couldn’t get a good handle on where he was, exactly, but it didn’t take him that long to find one of his arks.

The light cruiser Dehamere hovered in place in front of him, its Lances blazing in seemingly no particular direction. Terris fought the urge to angrily shout at the captain even at this great distance, for he wasn’t quite sure of his location either, let alone where these newcomers were firing from.

A moment later, Dehamere’s broadside was answered with five Lance bolts slamming into her hull and exploding with hull-melting lightning magic. Another bolt hit the ark right in the center of her bulbous front section and detonated with such ferocity that secondary explosions and flue fires started by magic power leaking from burst Titanstone power conduits illuminated the ark within the mist.

Dehamere began to list to the side as another explosion rocked the vessel, shutting down one of its four main thrusters. Terris reached out to try and stabilize the ark with his incredible power, but a third explosion severed the tail of the craft from the thicker main decks, cutting off two more thrusters and gutting the entire ark.

Dozens of his people bailed from the ark by whatever means they had, and Terris did his best to catch them as they fell. Dehamere seemed like she would remain intact long enough for survivors to evacuate, but another barrage of Lance bolts soon hit her, and Dehamere exploded, killing hundreds both within and without her hull and sending Terris flying backward with the shockwave.

With a cry of frustration and anger, Terris did his best to fly in the direction he thought the Lancefire had been coming from. However, as he lost sight of the small pocket of clear air that Dehamere’s destruction had temporarily opened, he lost track of his position again, and much to his surprise, found himself flying full-tilt out of the mist and back into the sky over the southern plain.

After a moment of confusion and taking his bearings, Terris turned around and began assaulting the mist with his magic, hoping that he’d have better luck from outside. He was able to bore a large tunnel through it, but it was nothing compared to the effort it took from him.

’Defenses worthy of a Storm Lord,’ he thought, some small amount of admiration for his enemy sprouting within him, like a mountain spring from seemingly nowhere. ’Not as strong as the Stormwall of Cambyses, but…’

A sigh escaped his lips. He glanced around the battlefield, noting that many of his arks had yet to plunge into the mist, whether due to the damage they suffered in the battle or for other reasons. He reached out with his power, informing the captains not to advance just yet, but to spread out across the plain.

Then he turned back to the mist. It seemed that forcing his way through wasn’t going to work, and he’d have to reach as many of his arks as he could and try and lead them out of the mist before the enemy Lances could take them apart. His worst-case scenario was that he’d have to call for reinforcements from his domain, but he didn’t think he was quite there, yet.

Still, his heart fell as he realized that instead of a quick and glorious victory that emphasized the power and reach of the Ocean King and his vassals, he’d have to settle in for a siege until such a time came that he was able to figure out a way through this weak facsimile of the Stormwalls of the eastern Storm Lords.

A dark look passed over his face. When he did find a way through, these newcomers would pay in blood for this humiliation…