Chương 1309: 1339 - Urnos I

Exposure to the Void was a terrible thing, something that would require a mage to have origin power to survive. At the thirteenth-tier, however, Leon hardly felt uncomfortable as he floated in the black, wearing only a simple silver tunic and matching pants, each embroidered with faint blue lightning bolts. Iron Pride was affixed at his hip, but aside from the vessel of the Iron Needle, he bore no weapons or armor. The untrained eye would've seen him as vulnerable.

He floated far ahead of his fleet, which had appeared in the Void close to the plane of Urnos mere hours ago—he was far enough away that it would take long minutes for him to be reinforced if attacked, but at his tier, few would attack him so recklessly. As he cracked open an eye, Leon could see what was arrayed against him: more than a thousand arks of varying size, equal in tonnage, he estimated, to about eighty percent of his total fleet.

He didn't have his total fleet with him, however, as many detachments had been made to harass the other planes in the Halorian Cluster, most of which had understrength garrisons now that most of Makarios and Antipatra's fleets had mustered here. He supposed he still had a rough advantage in numbers and firepower, but it wasn't much; certainly not enough to be completely confident in attacking the forces assembled to oppose him.

Urnos had no nebulae enshrouding it, no fields of asteroids to provide cover; battle here would be a slugfest, one his fleet wouldn't emerge from unscathed without the right preparations. And so, most of his fleet was at his back, and he floated in the Void, making his presence known with his aura, ensuring that Antipatra and this assembled fleet couldn't do anything but remain here and wait for him to attack.

His detachments, he guessed, were now wreaking havoc upon the rest of the cluster, striking hard and fast, whittling the enemy down wherever they could be whittled down. Soon, those defending Urnos would be alone, without hope for reinforcements or supplies. In this, the Lions had devoted themselves wholly. They were eager to avenge Menander's death, and the deaths of all those from their Tribal power structure that he'd brought with him for this campaign.

Now that they had the opportunity, Leon knew that Xanthippe was going to splay the blood of all those she could get her claws into across the Halorian Cluster. For him, however, this was a waiting game. He floated in the Void, his presence unmistakable, demanding that the thirteenth-tier Antipatra remain close to him, preventing her from going to personally reinforce any of the other planes that were surely feeling the Lion's wrath at that moment.

He smirked as his eyes locked onto the largest of the enemy's arks, a beast of a war machine twice as long as Storm Herald, with heavy armaments and several large hangar bays. It was unwieldy, though, and slow, too sluggish to be of much use for Leon's general tactical preferences. That ark was Antipatra's; there wasn't any doubt in his mind about that. Its hull was glossy metal that rippled and flared outward flamboyantly.

Furthermore, Leon could feel the fire magic it channeled roiling and churning around it, forming something of a protective screen against anything that might try to attack without the proper protection. If any of his fighters or Ulta suits attempted to get close, their hulls would soon begin to melt. Such a defensive measure was only present on that particular ark, helping to mark it as singularly important throughout Antipatra's fleet.

Leon already knew that once the fight kicked off, that was the ark he was going to attack before any other.

'Will killing Antipatra solidify your will?' Leon wondered, his eyes flickering toward the more conventionally-designed arks hovering closer to Urnos than Antipatra's. He wasn't sure where Makarios was, but he was also sure that the man was here, somewhere.

'Best if you make the right choice soon…' [The commander is the key,] the Thunderbird whispered from his soul realm. Leon was comforted by her presence and even found comfort in sensing the Great Black Dragon lazily flying about above his Mind Palace, making a show out of his indifference despite how closely he was monitoring Leon. [Kill her, and their fleet will break apart into different groups; they are greater than the sum of their parts, but their parts, when broken, are brittle.] [That was my plan,] Leon replied, scoffing deliberately. [After so long hammering 'power above all' into my head, did you think I wasn't internalizing it?] [Do you want an honest answer?] A chuckle rumbled through Leon, though he kept his mouth shut. He could stop anything from affecting his body with origin power, but that didn't mean that opening his mouth in the Void was entirely comfortable. Scornfully, Leon said, [That woman is affiliated with Kamran. A vassal, if what Justin claimed was true. I don't care if I have to kill every person in her fleet personally, I'm going to have her head by the time I'm done with this planar cluster, and will make an offering of it to my Ancestors.] [I'm rarely fond of human sacrifices,] the Thunderbird replied, [but in this case, I'll make an exception.] Leon smiled, his fingers twitching as he silently prepared himself for the battle.

'They won't even know what just hit them…'

Rage burned within her, as if her heart had been ripped out and replaced with a hellish furnace. It was hard not to feel that way, not with how ravaged her Tribe had been, not when the perpetrators of such destruction were now before her. Xanthippe showed no mercy. She tore through the enemy not just with her claws and fangs but also with the orange lightning of the Lion-of-the-Plains. So hot was she burning on the inside that as she showered herself in the hot blood of her enemies, it chilled her skin.

In fact, that very blood was about all she could see and smell; only red and iron. She was cognizant of the arks she tore through, expending origin power with hardly a care to punch through their hulls, but she'd given herself to the rage so completely that she barely sensed anything other than blood and ash. It was hardly a challenge for her, an eleventh-tier mage, even newly ascended.

The arks left behind to guard the other planes of the Halorian Cluster were clearly not the best, being relatively small, poorly armed, and poorly armored. Now, she stood upon the bridge of a destroyer-sized ark, strangely positioned near the fore of the ark rather than the ark's heart, as was the design philosophy in Leon's Kingdom. All around her were the broken remnants of the bridge crew and their security teams who'd made their final stand here.

Xanthippe stood alone, the other Lions who'd assaulted this ark with her having either fallen behind or peeled off to clear out other compartments. They moved with just as much rage as she did, and where they tread, no enemy of theirs remained. The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident. At least, such was what Xanthippe had thought as she came down from her blood rage until a pained cough rang through the charnel house that the bridge had become.

She turned slowly, the fire within stoked by that sound, and she laid eyes upon the man she assumed was the ark's captain, half-buried under several members of his bridge crew. He was less a leg and an arm, and his face had been horrifically burned, fusing the eye on that side of his face shut and half of his mouth closed.

Those burns, inflicted by Xanthippe's lightning, were likely the only reason the ninth-tier mage was still alive, else he would've bled out in minutes—if the shock of his injuries didn't get to him first. She stalked over, her eyes blazing with murderous intent. The captain, barely clinging to life, choked out a defiant laugh, his struggles to free himself amounting to little; he had no hope of resisting his approaching death.

"M-Monsters…" he hacked, more blood exiting his mouth than sound.

"Enjoy this… W-When the o-others… your end will…" He wheezed, then began to cough like he was trying to hack up one of his lungs. Xanthippe, however, faltered in her approach. After a moment of thought, she flipped the charred corpses pinning the captain on the floor away and raised him to eye level. His half-melted visage didn't cause her to so much as blink.

"What 'others'?" she viciously demanded, her rough handling aggravating his wounds and eliciting a hiss of pain. Still, he sneered through the pain and melted flesh.

"D-Did you think… we w-were… the only ones…? Antipatra… c-called all of her… vassals! Th-They come here now! And w-when… they arrive… all of your mongrel hordes… will die!" Coldly, Xanthippe demanded, "How long until they reach this place?" Again, the captain laughed, a wet rattle sounding from deep in his chest.

"D-days… w-weeks… No… difference…" His sole remaining eye closed, and Xanthippe felt him go limp. Her eyes, however, stared through him, the information he'd revealed cutting through the haze. Antipatra was a Basileus, a thirteenth-tier mage. That meant she had to have a few Despots, twelfth-tier mages, as vassals. Few were counted among her King's fleet who could stand against such power aside from Leon himself. He had to know… She threw the captain's body aside and, in the same movement, summoned her comm slate.

Her King had to know how little time they had…

In the Void, Leon floated as he'd been for several days, keeping an eye on the distant glimmering lights that were Antipatra's arks. His expression, however, had fallen. Xanthippe had gotten in touch with the main fleet and informed them of the imminent arrival of reinforcements for Antipatra, reinforcements that would likely consist of twelfth-tier mages. On its own, Leon might have doubted it—the mad rantings of a man in his death throes.

However, other detachments had verified the information, which presented a new problem. Their harassment campaign had only just begun, and he'd been planning on locking Antipatra down until she either decided to attack or they had cleansed the rest of the planes. Now, with reinforcements so close that his harassing forces might not be able to contend with, his hand was forced. He had to attack before they arrived, or else even he might be overwhelmed by Antipatra and her strongest vassals.

Beside him, Maia and Red danced in the Void, an ice dragon languidly twirling around the great red wyvern. Though they appeared at ease, they were only waiting for him to give the order, to let them loose upon the enemy fleet.

'Not much use delaying things,' he thought as he glared at Antipatra's behemoth, upon which it seemed the rest of her fleet turned. He gave no order, but instead, he let his aura explode from his body, drowning out all other magical auras in the area. In an instant, he'd assumed his Thunderbird form, silver-blue lightning coursing through his feathers so thickly that he almost became a new sun in the Void around Urnos. And then he charged, trusting that everyone else would follow.

They were all waiting for him, after all, the decision to attack having been made nearly two hours before. His trust was vindicated when Maia and Red fell in beside him, and the titanic fleet at his back accelerated, all while spilling fighters, giants, and Ulta suits into the black. It was time to visit death upon Antipatra, and in doing so, excising the threat that hung over this entire campaign and weakening Kamran for their inevitable future war. Leon just had to find the woman first.

The monster's aura washed over the fleet like a tidal wave, almost physically buffeting their arks around. Were they not well spread out, thousands of feet between arks at the closest, it might've even been dangerous. But as it was, they were waiting, knowing that he'd have to attack eventually. His situation demanded it. Antipatra grinned savagely.

'So like a Storm Lord. So like a Thunderbird. Only one thought in their empty heads: attack!' Before her, a spherical comm stone spun, runes etched into its surface illuminating in arcane light. A moment later, she knew that when she spoke, every man and woman in her fleets would hear her voice and judge her for whatever she was about to say. So, she made it as good as she could.

"My fellows," she started.

"Not just my fellow countrymen, but my fellow humans. For many of you, the days of humanity's enslavement are but distant myths, stories to tell your children of the great heroes who liberated our species from the chains that the Primal Gods, Primal Devils, and Divine Beasts placed us into.

"But look ahead of us! Look ahead of us and see that for all this time, for all that humanity has become the dominant power in this universe, know that we are still under attack! Our position, won by blood and steel, will always be under attack! Look at these beasts as they bay for our blood! As they roar in anticipation of sending us into the halls of martyrs!

"My fellows, many of you hold the words of Khosrow's Law close to your hearts. For those of you who do not, look ahead of us and let the Great Lord's words echo within your hearts! Know the truth of its words! Know that if we fail here, it means not just losing our lives, but also endangering our loved ones! These monsters will not stop here!

From the plane behind us, counting on us for protection against bestial savagery, to our families back home, defended by strong walls and hard warriors—all will be devoured by the ravening monsters if we do not stop them here! If we do not summon the will to do what must be done!" Antipatra paused, letting the moment stretch dramatically. As she did, she took the comm stone with her as she started moving towards the nearest hangar.

She wasn't going to watch the battle happen from behind a projected screen; no, she would don her armor and participate, just as she was asking the rest of her people to do. As she made her final preparations, she projected her magic senses, noting that nearly everyone she could sense was hanging on her words and steeling themselves for the battle that was minutes away.

"Show this tide of monsters no mercy!" she continued.

"They will spare us none! Show your honored dead that you are no coward! If you go to them today, take with you stories of honor and glory, and go with the knowledge that you did your part in making this universe safer for all humankind! Fight today, and cement your place as a hero among heroes, as a paragon of humanity! Fight with me, and end this scourge that wishes for nothing but to destroy our way of life, and to return us to chains if not outright kill us!

Fight like your lives, like your futures, like your families depend on it! Because they do! Follow me, and fight!" Great cries went up throughout her fleet. She didn't consider herself much of a speech giver, but she thought she did all right. Now, she powered down the comm stone and clad herself in gleaming Adamant. Within a minute, she was hurling herself into the Void, and there, she found herself practically swimming in the hollow-boned, pigeon-hearted, crow-footed mongrel's terrible aura.

And she answered with her own; her aura erupted from her body, and in a moment, pushed the mongrel's back, freeing her hundreds and hundreds of arks from its influence. Immediately, however, she felt the mongrel's attention; what she did was hardly subtle, after all. But she only smirked. She was no craven, and this was not her first time combating the foul enemies of mankind. Entire planes had drowned in blood by her hand, and she wasn't going to stop until the universe had been properly cleansed.

This, as dangerous as it was, was just one more battle for her, one more inevitable victory that would earn for her the favor of the Great Lord, and that of her Lord, the man destined to usher Khosrow's vision into reality. She drew a shining spear from her soul realm, the long weapon made of silvery metal that gleamed as brightly as her armor. But then, as it was filled with her power, it began to glow red, then orange, yellow, and white.

Finally, the blade at the end of the haft became a bright, furious blue, and with the burning weapon in hand, Antipatra charged. It was time to do what even her Lord had failed to do, and end the line of Thunderbirds once and for all.