Demoness 3 - Chapter 13: ​Demi-Divine (8,079 Words) (Patreon)

The black-feather swung his arm, releasing a black lash of energy.

Elania slipped around it, the crackling tendril missing her by mere inches. She raised her Regalia, taking aim at him, and squeezed the trigger.

The shot went wide; the bullet whizzed past his head.

He darted inward, swinging his black energy like a whip. She brought her wing up to block the attack.

Black electricity cackled down her feathers, sending a shock through her body. Elania gritted her teeth and pushed through the pain as the distance between them disappeared.

He stabbed at her with a black energy dagger. She strafed away from it. He continued his rush, swinging wildly and faster than she could track.

That wasn’t acceptable. She didn’t want to get stabbed.

[Demonic Aura] came to the forefront, and she focused on her opponent, willing the air to resist his movement. Every movement. The surrounding air thickened, and there was an immediate effect.

But it didn’t stop the black energy that shot out of his hand, turning into a series of red and black claws. They slashed her side, cutting through her scale armor like it wasn’t there. Blood flowed freely from the wound.

Elania realized with a start that it wasn’t healing.

Worse, it hurt. Like, more than normal.

She pushed a pulse of [Power] through her [Regeneration] ability, willing it to close, but nothing responded. The gash remained open, blood dripping down her side. A sense of unease settled in her stomach.

Anti-Regeneration magic? She’d encountered nothing like that before. Hadn’t even known it was possible.

She dodged another slash, simultaneously pumping another dump of [Power] into her aura. The effect doubled in strength, the air around them cackling with energy and growing more oppressive. She slipped around his next strike easily, and slashed his midsection with her wing, willing the appendage into a razor-sharp wedge.

Blood spewed through the air, but someone it failed to cleave him in half as she’d hoped. Elania cursed under her breath. He was stronger than the previous two Demi she’d faced.

He grabbed her wing, blackfire claws tearing into feathers. Sections of them were consumed or ripped free, leaving glowing nets of gold mist behind. The feathers didn’t regenerate either.

“You bastard!” Elania growled, materializing a dozen light spears and flinging them.

Each one was countered by more black lashes, the tendrils whipping through the air.

Holding him in place with her [Demonic Aura] was draining [Power] far faster than was acceptable. She needed to end this.

Flipping open the cylinder of her Regalia, she swapped out her standard ammunition for flame rounds. They had a wider area of effect. Perfect for agile opponents, and the other Demi were that.

She summoned another barrage of light spears and flicked her wrist, sending them toward the writhing tendrils. Each one exploded with a blinding flash, illuminating the sky.

While he was blinded, Elania leveled her revolver and fired every round into the light. A geyser of flame erupted from her weapon, expanding rapidly in a giant cone of roiling red and yellow heat.

As the energy began to dissipate into the air, the black feather was revealed, his form blackened, scorched, and wounded.

She flipped her pouch open and pulled out another speed loader—this one lightning.

The Demi’s chest heaved as he struggled to breathe, but he still retaliated, a desperate gesture summoning a beam of black flame that shot out like a laser.

She jetted out of the way, accelerating as fast as she could in a curved path to dodge the searing attack. Heat licked at her feet as he swiveled to track her movement.

She took aim and blasted him with a barrage of lightning bolts.

The energy seared the black feather heavily, causing his body to jerk and spasm erratically. He tumbled and began to fall.

Elania reached out beside her and summoned a large light spear and gripped the pulsing weapon tightly before diving after him.

With a powerful thrust, she impaled him with the spear, and together they streaked towards the ground.

On impact, the spear exploded, blasting his body into a plasma that scattered in every direction.

Elania landed with a thump before looking at the scattering energy. She clicked her tongue in disappointment, realizing there wasn’t even enough left to absorb.

She patted her side, which continued to bleed, and a sense of panic began to set in.

What if the wound never healed? She had half expected whatever he had done to her to end with his life.

A bolt of fire slamming into her back tore her thoughts back to the battle. Turning, she saw Monevoian infantry and mages charging up the street.

Elania raised her hand, summoning two dozen golden orbs. A simple gesture toward the enemy sent them surging forward, bombarding them with a series of explosions.

Soldiers were sent flying through the air, while others dove for cover.

The charge faltered and then reversed as men fled into buildings or pushed their fellows back.

Elania looked back, spotting the Neftasu district tower. Yolani would be up there.

She jumped into the air, covering the distance quickly. Sure enough, the defense cannon and guards were still there, sniping away at the enemies within range.

Yolani looked up at her and waved.

She touched down with a thump, and Yolani’s gaze was immediately drawn to her side. “Are you hurt?” she asked, concern etched on her face.

Elania nodded. “Something the enemy Demi did stopped the healing.”

Yolani reached down, pulling the torn scales apart and wincing as blood drenched her hand. “This looks bad.”

Elania let out a pained breath. “It’s not healing, but [Regeneration] is replenishing my blood at least, but it’s burning energy leaking everywhere.”

Yolani shook her head and tugged at Elania’s belt, opening her potion brace. They were all still there. “I guess you didn’t try these.”

“It just happened, and I just got here,” Elania mumbled.

Yolani pulled one of the sparkling blue potions out and uncorked it. A quick splash on the wound followed.

Elania winced. It tingled and then burned like an anti-septic. Suddenly [Regeneration] took hold and her flesh re-knitted itself.

“You shouldn’t rely purely on [Regeneration],” Yolani advised.

Elania nodded, a sheepish look on her face. “Thanks, Doc.”

Yolani bit her lip and gave her a look.

Elania rubbed her side, then focused on [Divine Mending], willing her armor to repair. It followed her will, and the damage was undone. “How’s the defense going?”

Yolani shook her head, her expression grim. “It just started. The enemy has a lot of infantry, so I called up the machine gun. It’s on the way.”

Elania nodded, a flicker of approval in her eyes. “That’s a good idea.”

She glanced towards the distant airships, her mind already racing ahead. “The Gold took some damage. We’ll need to try to repair it when we get a chance.”

Yolani frowned, her gaze following Elania’s. “We can, but we’ll have to be quick. We can’t leave the district unprotected for long.”

A sudden shout from below drew their attention.

They hurried to the edge of the tower, peering over the wall to see a squad of guards hurrying down the street, civilians in tow. The group disappeared into the tower, and Elania frowned. “What’s that about?”

Yolani shrugged. “Probably a messenger.”

Elania bit her lip, her instincts tingling. “It looked like they had civilians with them.”

Yolani’s frown deepened. “We should go meet them.”

Elania grabbed Yolani’s waist, eliciting a startled squeak.

They leaped from the tower, landing them both safely at the entrance. Yolani pinched her on the arm and gave her a miffed look. “If my heart stops working, it will be your fault.”

Elania grinned at her. “We’re too young to worry about that.”

They hurried inside, Elania’s voice ringing out. “Hey!”

The squad turned and looked at them. The group was still catching their breaths and minding their packs.

Allie emerged from the group, making a beeline for Elania and Yolani. Elania blinked, surprise etched on her face. “What are you doing here?”

“What’s wrong?” Yolani asked.

Allie’s words tumbled out in a rush. “The Mushroohums are in trouble and need help! The Arena is under attack.”

Elania and Yolani exchanged a look, then Elania nodded to Allie, her voice firm. “I’ll go.”

Yolani reached out, grasping Elania’s arm. “Don’t forget your healing potions.”

Elania nodded, then squeezed Yolani’s forearm, her gaze intense as she looked her in the eye. “There are more enemy Demi-Divine than we expected. You need to be careful.”

“I think I can handle them if there’s only one,” Yolani replied.

Elania frowned, worry creasing her brow. “Don’t hesitate to drain as much [Divinity] as you need. The fights with the other two haven’t drained much [Divine Power], and I’m still nearly full.”

Yolani nodded, a promise in her eyes. “I won’t hold back.”

Elania smiled, leaning in to press a quick peck to Yolani’s lips before turning and heading back out the door.

As she flew over the city, she spotted a group of enemy soldiers pinned down by Guards firing their rifles from the safety of nearby buildings.

There was no time to help directly, but Elania couldn’t just leave them to fend for themselves. She flung a few light spears at the enemy, hoping to bombard them and slow their advance.

Banking sharply, Elania jetted towards the Mushroohum Arena.

It wasn’t far, and as she approached, the problem became immediately apparent.

The small group of guards defending the structure were pinned down, their numbers no match for the Monevoian infantry led by a Gold.

The Guards had retreated to a small building, firing from the windows and roof. The enemy was trying to break into the arena’s heavy steel door.

Without hesitation, she aimed directly for the Gold, diving towards him.

He turned, noticing her at the last second.

It was too late.

She slammed into him with the force of a meteor, using his body and armor as a makeshift brake. It pulped him in half, sending a spray of blood and viscera across the Monevoians.

They turned their attention to her, but she acted first by grabbing the two halves of the Gold’s mangled corpse. She hurled them at the enemy soldiers with enough force for it to blast into them, pulverizing half their number.

The ones that remained turned to flee, but she knelt down on the ground and grabbed a handful of rocks.

Then threw them at their backs with all her might.

That turned the simple stones into a deadly grapeshot, men exploding as if struck by a shotgun blast. The lot of them fell to the ground, a heap of shattered bones and torn flesh.

The few that weren’t dead moaned in agony. She ignored them.

The Guards waved at her from the building. She took back to the air in order to examine the Arena from above.

The major problem became apparent quickly—there were holes in the hatch roof that had allowed the dense atmosphere to escape.

Mending the smaller holes wouldn’t be that hard, but there was one where something large had blasted the entire hatch away. Elania glanced over to the building the Guards were in.

She hovered over it and shouted for them to get out.

They complied after a minute, confusion etched on their faces.

Focusing her will, she called up her [Demonic Aura], using it to slice off the flat roof and then brace it as she lifted it up into the air. Flying back to the hole in the arena, she dropped it in place to seal the breach.

Yolani would have had a lot easier time with this, she thought. But that didn’t stop her from calling upon [Divine Mending] and doing her best.

It worked well enough, golden light fusing with the material to cause it to melt together. She could feel her connections to the Mushroohums below strength as well. It wasn’t mending just the structure.

She turned her attention to the atmosphere. Restoring that wasn’t as tricky, just requiring more [Power] funneled into her aura.

A few minutes later and the Mushroohums were as safe as she could make them in a hurry.

Elania ascended, to get a better view of the battle and the city. Monevoian barges had landed—or crashed—disgorging hordes of enemy soldiers onto the streets. The defending Silvers were fighting back valiantly through the districts, their silver armor glinting as they scattered the lighter enemy troops.

A flash of green caught Elania’s eye, and she spotted Elysia locked in combat with another Demi-Divine. They moved with blinding speed, a dazzle of elemental fury erupting with each clash. Not far away, Lyra faced off another one, both of them spilling arcane workings through the air that shot at one another.

Ember was on the other side of the city, but her fiery presence was unmistakable. She was flashing between landing barges, a swirling vortex of flame erupting from her hands. The tornados tossed the vessels into the air, searing them in a inferno as they were tossed from the city.

The city’s central spire continued to unleash a relentless barrage from its cannons and turrets. The enemy airships’ arcane fields flickered and burned under the pressure. Dozens of ships were on fire and beginning to falter as they spread out their formation along the city’s edges.

A nagging question tugged at Elania. Where were the Sun Emperor and Arlois? The two most formidable combatants on either side had yet to make an appearance.

Considering that the entire battle was riding on them for both sides, their absence was conspicuous.

Elania pushed toward the central spire to investigate, a bit of unease filling her.

Almost there, a glint of gold caught her eye. A large group of Golds, their armor flashing in the sunlight, were rushing up the path towards the tower.

Towards the Celestial Engine chamber.

  *

Elania zoomed toward the group of Golds. The wind whipped past her face as she closed the distance, her eyes locked on her first targets. Just before she reached them, a dozen Silvers flashed in from the side.

The clash of metal against metal rang out as the Golds and Silvers engaged, their heavy armor and weapons slamming together with sparks and fury. There were more Silvers than Golds, but the enemy soldiers were slightly stronger.

Elania pulled to a halt, her attention drawn by a black feather flying toward the Celestial Engine.

She started to intercept, her wings tensing for the chase, when a giant purple lightning bolt lashed out from the spire. The bolt struck the Demi-Divine, reducing them to ashes in an instant.

Frustration welled up inside Elania. Her gaze darting between the spire and the ongoing battle. She turned back to the Golds and dove into the melee.

A Gold’s back presented itself to her, the man locked in combat with a Silver. She reached out with a wing; the feathers sliced through the Gold’s armor and flesh, bisecting him from behind. The Silver looked at her with shock, his eyes wide beneath his helmet.

She spun to face another Gold as he knocked a Silver to the ground. The Gold straddled him, raising a dagger to strike.

She stepped forward, her foot connecting with the Gold’s face in a brutal kick. She followed up with a stomp to his head, shattering his helmet and skull beneath her heel.

Another enemy rushed at her, wielding a large glaive. She sidestepped the attack and moved forward. Her fingers dug into his chest plate as if it were paper. Holding him in place, she slipped around him to punch him in the back, her hand emerging with his spine gripped tightly.

The taste of blood filled her mouth as it accidentally splattered across her face.

She should have asked Yolani to add a mouth guard to her helmet.

A flurry of [System] messages caught up to her.

[You have slain Gold – Human – Lvl 183]

[You have gained 24 Karma.]

[Absorb the lingering Power from Gold – Human – Lvl 183?]

The taste disappeared, rendered into [Power] motes. The amount was paltry, though. She glanced up at the sky, looking for any more Demi.

They were higher level and provided a bigger boost. There weren’t any in sight, though.

That was a shame. She had somehow reached [Level 291] and she wanted her new perk point.

The Silvers regrouped, picking up their fallen comrades and hauling them back toward the central spire.

She noticed a new hint of fear in their eyes as they glanced at her, but they quickly focused on their task at hand.

A fresh group of Silvers marched by, their armor clanking as they headed down the street toward an invasion barge. Elania stared at their destination.

It would help if she softened up the enemy first. She leaped into the air, and glided over the street.

Flame bolts targeted her from nearby, forcing her to roll evasively. She threw golden light spears back in response. The flame bolt magic intensified as she came closer to the barge.

There were a significant number of enemies, and a lot of them were flame, or maybe sun mages. They were easy to pick out with their yellow robes.

Elania sped up, her wings glittering and leaving behind a trail of dust as she outran the trajectories of the incoming magic.

She morphed her Regalia into her hand, flipping the empty cylinder open. A speed loader full of dissolution shells clicked each bullet into place before she slid it shut.

Dissolution magic was dangerous, and a bit slow. She’d avoided using it on the island or on moving targets. The beached invasion barges were the perfect use for them, though.

The enemy soldiers below were breaking into every building. Probably searching for people to murder. Dropping lower, she avoided the enemy projectiles with a simple tactic.

She flew through the regular soldiers, flashing by with razor-sharp wings. She cut a swath through them, scything patrol after patrol in half. Others were simply impaled and blasted apart by her Regalia helmet as she burst right through them.

A flurry of [System] messages assailed her, but most of them were low level and she swatted the panels away with a flick of thought. The ones that clung to her—blood or otherwise were absorbed into her [Power].

The barge loomed ahead, its rear half sticking off the island, while the front was embedded into the island. Elania pulled up short, gaining a small bit of altitude, and then fired at the center.

The bolt of black energy flashed forward as a tiny dart. When it punctured the hull of the barge, it began to expand rapidly in a black cloud of whirling magic. Things tore apart and separated into a black mist with no regard to their cohesion of material.

The screaming of men and metal was short-lived.

The shot was perfect, a giant sphere cut out of the ship’s middle. The rear half broke loose from its cables holding it to the balloon, and toppled off the island with a massive crash.

She flashed through the now empty area, toward the next invasion barge. Before she reached it, an enemy airship’s anti-divinity guns targeted her, filling the area with purple explosions.

Elania pulled short and flashed upward to avoid them. The purple blobs weren’t blocked by the city’s arcane fields?

She twisted and glared at the enemy ship.

The city’s artillery fired back at it for her, the booming cannons echoing through the air. Its fields shattered, and the deck lit on fire.

The battle was overwhelmingly chaotic, and she decided to return to the central spire and survey again.

She spotted Arlois standing near the top, her purple armor glinting in the sunlight. Elania curved upwards and landed heavily beside the other Demi-Divine with a thump.

“What’s the situation?” Elania asked, folding her wings and trying to catch her breath.

Arlois turned to face her, her expression grim. “We’re losing men, but the enemy is losing them much faster. They’ve lost half their fleet.”

Elania nodded, her eyes scanning the battlefield. “Any idea how many enemy Demi are left?”

“They’ve stopped attacking, so less than before,” Arlois replied. “The other Towers are defending their districts.”

Elania grunted and moved to stand beside Arlois, her gaze fixed on the enemy flagship. “What about the Sun Emperor? Why is he holding back?”

Arlois frowned. “He’s likely observing, waiting to see if we have any secret weapons. He wants his forces to weaken us before he makes his move.”

“Isn’t that going to get his army killed?” Elania asked.

Arlois huffed, a bitter laugh escaping her lips. “He doesn’t care. He’ll just make a new one in a decade or two. His goal is the Celestial Engine and capturing us.”

Elania bit her lip, a sense of unease settling in her stomach. She turned to Arlois, her voice hesitant. “Can you beat him?”

Arlois didn’t answer immediately, and Elania felt a spike of worry. Finally, the other Demi-Divine spoke. “I believe that together, the five of us can beat him. If we couldn’t, we would have fled before he arrived, regardless of the dangers.”

Elania nodded, feeling a renewed sense of confidence. “Right. What should I do?”

“Guard your district and your people,” Arlois replied, her voice firm. “They’re your source of power, if you lose that, you’ll become useless.”

Elania turned to go, but Arlois caught her wrist and pulled her into a hug. Elania tensed, feeling uncomfortable. Arlois stroked her hair, her voice soft. “Be safe.”

Elania pulled away from the embrace, shivering. “You’re not my mother,” she said, spreading her wings.

“Be safe,” Arlois repeated as Elania jumped into the air.

As she flew, Elania couldn’t shake the thought that every single Demi-Divine was insane, probably including herself.

  *

Elania and Yolani soared through the air.

Yolani held securely by one of Elania’s arms and her flight harness. The wind whipped at them as they sped toward their destination.

“We need to finish quickly!” Yolani shouted over the rushing air.

Elania grinned. “Fast, safe, or alive, you can pick two!”

“We’re not hiring a contractor. We need to hurry!” Yolani retorted.

“I am!” Elania insisted.

As they approached the Heart, Elania noticed it wasn’t looking as bad as when she had left the Contia air fleet.

The other airships were also in various states of repair, some still smoking. A good half of them were missing.

“Maybe we should repair more of the airships than just the Heart,” Elania suggested.

“Only the worst ones,” Yolani replied firmly.

Elania landed them on the deck, steadying Yolani as they touched down. Harlock stepped out of the bridge and onto the observation balcony, waving to them.

“Use the priestess thing,” Elania said.

Yolani gave her a sharp look. “I know that.” She closed her eyes and put her hands together.

Elania felt a tingle of [Divine Power] flow out of her. Seizing the moment, Elania hugged Yolani from behind.

“You’re distracting me!” Yolani protested.

“It’s the perfect opportunity,” Elania said with a grin.

“You’re insatiable,” Yolani muttered.

“An opportunity to make it easier for the power to flow through the conduit and repair the ship,” Elania clarified.

“Oh.” Yolani paused and wiggled slightly. “I don’t think it’s helping.”

“Relax,” Elania said soothingly.

“I am relaxed!” Yolani yelled.

“When you yell at me, it means you’re stressed out,” Elania pointed out. “Things are going to be okay. We’re okay and doing well.”

Yolani’s shoulders slumped, and she shivered. Elania hugged her tighter.

“It’ll be okay. The ship, remember?” Elania reminded her.

Elania held her close as the other woman inhaled deeply, concentrating on channeling the divine energy that flowed from Elania’s being.

A golden radiance suffused their surroundings as Yolani worked her magic, drawing upon her abilities as a Priestess of Artifice to mend the damaged vessel.

The ship began to knit itself back together, the power of her divinity making the impossible possible.

Elania smiled. “Knew you could do it.”

Yolani glanced back at her with a sour look. “I knew that, too.”

The once-battered airship now gleamed like new, its hull whole and unblemished.

Harlock reached the bottom of the ladder and marched over to them, his boots thudding on the deck. “That’s some impressive work,” he said, nodding to Yolani.

Yolani managed a smile. “What’s the air fleet’s plan now?” she asked.

Harlock glanced at the other damaged ships. “I believe they’ll fly down to the city and try to stay within its barriers to shoot back.”

Elania frowned. “They might end up crashing into the city.”

“It’s hard to figure things out when we can only communicate with flags, and the squadron leader was shot down,” Harlock grumbled. “No one knows who is in command.”

Elania grunted. “You’re in charge now.”

Harlock’s eyes widened. “What?”

“We’ll fly to the other ships, repair them, and inform them that the Heart is the new squadron leader,” Elania said decisively.

“I have no experience as a commodore!” Harlock protested. “Before we came to Contia, I’d never even seen the sky!”

“I never had any flight training either,” Elania countered. “And so far, the generic-whoever-is-in-charge-of-the-ships hasn’t done a good job either!”

“We need to hurry if we’re going to land on all the ships,” Yolani interjected.

Elania turned to Harlock. “Go with your first plan or figure something else out, but do something cohesive and decisive.”

Harlock relented. “I’ll do my best.”

Elania scooped up Yolani and took off into the air toward the next ship. They landed on its deck, and Yolani immediately began repairs. Elania called the deck officer and sent the message to the captain.

They moved on to the next ship and repeated the process, over and over. With each working, Yolani grew more and more tired. It was more of a mental strain than a lack of [Power].

When they finally reached the end, Yolani slumped against Elania, exhausted.

Elania bit her lip, concern etched on her face.

She turned them toward the Neftasu district. That was their safest place, for now.

  *

Henri dove to the ground as a fire bolt slammed into the wall above his head, sending chunks of stone and dust raining down. The searing heat singed the back of his neck.

A flurry of rifle shots rang out behind him, and someone shouted, “Got the bastard!”

Gripping his rifle tightly, Henri pushed himself back up to a crouch, his heart pounding.

The street ahead remained clear, but the Monevoians had taken an avenue above them.

Their fire mages periodically popped out to unleash flaming destruction, forcing Henri and his squad to stay low. Crossbowmen sometimes showed themselves too, but they were using small crossbows and not in significant numbers.

The only silver lining was the absence of any Golds among the enemy ranks. The Silvers had held the elite Monevoian soldiers back, for now.

Henri stood up, gesturing down the street toward the enemy landing barge.

The front line of the Monevoian column was pushing forward, their armor glinting in the flickering light of the fires. “They’re in sight!” he shouted.

“Traps are set,” another squad member confirmed, nodding grimly.

They began moving up the street, falling back toward the Neftasu district’s Tower.

So far, their tactics had been to snipe at the enemy and retreat, but Henri knew they would soon be forced to make a stand.

Gaston had assigned him to the retrieval squad, tasked with grabbing men who were stuck or injured. Other squads leapfrogged ahead of them, evacuating as many casualties as possible.

Everything had gone to hell when the enemy unexpectedly seized the higher level.

Henri followed two of his squad members carrying a stretcher with a wounded man. As they reached the next block, he turned and aimed, firing into the roiling mass of enemy infantry jogging after them.

Bombs fell from the sky periodically, scorching sections of the city—mortars or artillery from the city’s defenses. With everyone in bunkers, the indiscriminate fire was increasing as the Monevoians gained more ground.

An explosion ripped through the street above them, sending a cascade of debris raining down on his squad. “We need to pick up the pace!” he yelled, urging them forward.

They began to jog, but the sound of enemy boots and shouts grew louder behind them.

They reached the next block.

His lungs burned from the exertion. Another squad waited for them, providing covering fire from behind and above.

The sharp cracks of rifles echoed through the street, and the Monevoian advance faltered momentarily as they came around a corner right into the waiting volley.

Scanning the rooftops, Henri spotted a fire mage poking out from behind a chimney.

He stopped, aimed, and fired in one fluid motion.

The yellow-robed man jerked backward and tumbled off the roof, hitting the ground with a sickening thud.

“Get the wounded to safety!” the covering fire squad’s leader shouted, his voice hoarse from the smoke and dust.

“Thanks!” Henri yelled back, grateful for the support.

As they pushed forward with the man on the stretcher, Henri noticed a group of men bunching up ahead.

He quickened his pace, pushing past his squad mates to investigate. The wounded were laid out on the ground, and confusion reigned.

“What’s going on?” Henri demanded, pushing through the circle of men.

“Healing potions!” someone shouted, and Henri’s gaze fell on Allie, a large square pack filled with dozens of healing potions slung over her shoulder. She moved from one wounded soldier to the next, administering the life-saving elixirs.

“Don’t bunch up like idiots!” Henri barked, realizing the danger. “Spread out!”

The men began to disperse, and the wounded slowly got to their feet, their injuries mended by the potions. As the group started streaming back toward the district tower, Henri turned to Allie.

“Why are you here?” he asked, his brow furrowed. He swore she’d been with Elania’s servants at her Estate.

Allie met his gaze, her eyes determined. “I wanted to help. We had extra potions, so I brought them. If we don’t tend to the soldiers, we’ll all end up dead anyway. I don’t want to die in a bunker.”

Henri let out a tense breath, understanding her reasoning but still worried for her safety. “For now, we’re all retreating to the Tower,” he said, his tone leaving no room for argument.

Allie nodded, patting her pack. “I have all the extra potions if you need them.”

Henri took her hand, pulling her along with the squad as they ran toward the relative safety of the Tower.

Henri pulled Allie along, his grip tight on her hand as they followed his squad up the street’s slope.

The sounds of gunfire and battle haunted them, growing louder as they approached the junction where the two streets connected, leading into the square with the Neftasu District’s main buildings.

“I see the Tower!” Allie shouted, pointing ahead.

Henri looked up, catching sight of the tower. A glint of gold caught his eye, and his heart skipped a beat.

He tugged Allie back just as a giant Gold landed in the middle of the squad, the man’s massive form crushing two guards beneath his feet. The Gold swung a giant axe, cleaving two more soldiers in half with a sickening crunch.

Panic surged.

He shoved Allie into a nearby alley, causing her to yelp in surprise.

Henri aimed his rifle at the Gold and fired, the shot ricocheting off the giant’s helmet with a loud clang.

The Gold’s head snapped back slightly from the impact, but he quickly recovered, turning his attention to Henri.

The giant stomped towards him, his heavy footsteps shaking the ground.

Henri fired again, aiming for the man’s neck.

The shot glanced off the Gold’s armor, leaving a dent but failing to penetrate.

Henri kept firing as fast as he could, the proximity making it impossible to miss.

Other Guards nearby joined in, their rifles cracking as they unleashed a barrage of shots at the Gold.

Dozens of ricochets pinged off the giant’s armor, the damage evident but not enough to slow him down.

Henri’s rifle clicked empty. He fumbled with his belt, pulling off the plug spike and jammed it into the barrel. The Gold swung at him, but Henri jumped back, narrowly avoiding the deadly blow.

The Gold closed the distance with impossible speed, his axe whistling through the air. Henri fell back, landing hard on his ass. The massive weapon cleaved downward, but he rolled out of the way at the last second.

Somehow, he still had a grip on his weapon. He stabbed at the Gold’s leg, but the bayonet merely glanced off the armor. The Gold raised his axe again, ready to deliver the killing blow.

A splash of liquid landed on the Gold’s head from behind, coating him in a gray substance. Immediately, the giant’s armor caught fire, the flames licking at the golden metal.

Henri seized the opportunity, scrambling back out of reach. The Gold dropped his axe, clawing at his damaged armor, trying to pull it off as the green flames bit at him.

Charging forward, Henri stabbed his bayonet into the boiling golden armor on the man’s head.

The Gold let out a guttural cry before crumpling to the ground, his massive form still.

[You have defeated an enemy over 50 levels higher than you and received extra experience.]

[You have gained five levels and the skill Bayonet Charge.]

Henri grunted. It had been a long time since he’d gained a new skill, and he was slightly perturbed at what it was.

Allie peered out from the alley, her eyes wide with worry. An empty vial was clutched in her trembling hands.

He moved around the fallen Gold. “We have to run,” he said urgently.

Allie nodded, and he grabbed her hand and pulled her along.

He glanced behind them. The covering fire squad was being decimated by more Golds. The enemy giants tore through the Guardsmen, their massive weapons cleaving through armor and flesh with terrifying ease.

The delay would only last a few more seconds, he realized.

He sped up their pace to the point where Allie could barely keep up.

They ran after the rest of the Guard, who were shooting at the Golds with their rifles. The shots seemed to have little effect on the heavily armored giants, ricocheting off their golden plates.

Suddenly, a screeching sound filled the air, growing louder by the second.

Death was coming.

He grabbed Allie, shoving her to the ground. He landed on top of her, covering her body with his own as best he could.

The area behind them exploded violently, the force of the blast shaking the ground.

Dirt and shrapnel rained down on them, pelting Henri’s back and legs.

He felt a searing heat in his leg and a ringing in his ears, the pain momentarily overwhelming his senses.

He rolled over onto his back, groaning in agony. His vision was blurry, but he could see Allie looking down at him. “Go. Hurry.”

She didn’t listen, moving to his leg and ripping the tear in his pants leg wide open. A jagged piece of metal was embedded in his thigh, and blood was pouring out of the wound.

Without hesitation, Allie gripped the metal and pulled it out with her fingers.

He was vaguely aware of his screams.

“Hold still,” Allie instructed, her voice trembling slightly.

She reached into her pack and retrieved a healing potion, soaking the wound with the glowing liquid.

The pain died almost instantly, the healing properties of the potion knitting the flesh back together. A few seconds later, Allie was helping him back onto his feet.

The echoes of the pain and daze reverberated through him, but his eyes darted around, looking for any immediate threats.

There was a fire mage looking down at them from on top of a roof.

The man was casting a spell at them.

Panic gripped his heart as he realized his rifle was nowhere to be seen.

He stepped forward in front of Allie, spreading his arms wide. It wouldn’t be enough to save her, but he had to try, anyway.

Looking up into the sky, a line of airships filled his vision. They plummeted from above, hurtling directly toward them, cannons belching projectiles at the enemy army.

  *

Harlock grunted as the Heart tilted backwards, the deck pitching beneath his feet.

He gripped the railing tightly, his knuckles turning white. It turned out that airships couldn’t just drop straight down—they had to pitch and dive.

Doing so in a turn meant taking a wide spiraling curve down.

That was a problem, because the city was surrounded, and they needed to drop into it without being caught by the enemy.

A native Contian crewman had approached him with the maneuver.

Tilt the nose forward and fall forward. Tilt the nose up and fall backward.

Zig zagging back and forth, all the way down to where they wanted to be. It was the fastest way straight down without popping their own balloon, and that would be invariably fatal.

The commands had gone out via flag twice, but when the Heart led the descent, half the ships didn’t follow.

At least until they realized they were being left behind. The squadron was already so small, doing anything with a reduced group was suicide.

“Pitch nose down!” Harlock ordered, his voice booming across the bridge.

The ship creaked and groaned as the helmsman complied, the ship’s flight surfaces and weight reduction ringlets adjusting with agonizing slowness. Harlock peered out the window, watching the larger airships manage the feat with much greater smoothness.

He grunted in frustration.

The Heart should have been able to do better, but the crew’s relative inexperience at shifting the flight surfaces made them slow.

A crewman burst into the bridge, his eyes wide. “Captain! The city is less than five hundred feet below!”

“Level out!” Harlock commanded.

The helmsman yelled back, “Make up your mind!”

The ship groaned, the central spire of Contia flashing through a window as they corrected. The hum of the city’s arcane fields flowed through the ship as they passed through the barrier.

Harlock strode out onto the balcony, seeking a better view of the situation.

The rest of the Contia airships had come to a safe stop higher than the Heart—a sane precaution, he thought, noting the Heart had nearly slammed into the ground.

Crew members were running around the ship in a frenzy, an undisciplined sight that made Harlock grimace.

He turned his attention to the battle nearby.

They were just above the Neftasu district, and Monevoians were pouring out of a downed invasion barge .

Harlock grabbed a passing crewman by his uniform and pointed toward the enemy soldiers storming up the streets.

“To the gunnery master: Have the gunnery crews blast them!” he ordered, his voice sharp with urgency.

The man nodded and scrambled down to the gun deck, relaying the command to the gunnery master.

Within seconds, the ship’s light cannons roared to life, sending flame bolts hurtling toward the advancing Monevoians.

Harlock’s gaze swept across the sky, taking in the sight of Monevoian airships flying in a circle around the city, bombarding it from every direction.

It was a constant pressure, but one the city seemed to be handling.

More Monevoian warships crashed, and a realization dawned on him—they were doing it on purpose.

Were they unloading more infantry, or just trying to kill as many people as possible?

From his vantage point, Harlock could see the landed invasion barges strewn around the nearby islands.

Half of them billowed smoke, while others appeared more intact.

A flash of movement caught his eye, and he spotted a blue-winged Demi-Divine engaged with two black-feathered ones. There was nothing they could do there without risking hitting their ally.

Harlock strode back into the bridge, his mind racing.

He ordered the artillery to target the enemy barge before turning his attention to the flight map.

Searching through the parchment, he located the large, blown-up view of Contia’s islands and began marking the positions of the enemy barges. With quick, decisive strokes, he sketched out their flight plan.

Looking up, Harlock met the eyes of his crew. “We’ll be hunting the enemy landing zones,” he declared, his voice filled with determination.

The helmsman acknowledged his order, and the Heart surged forward.

The bow artillery guns erupted, spewing black powder shrapnel clouds that engulfed the closest enemy barge.

The Heart’s lighter guns unleashed a rapid barrage, tearing through the Monevoian troops on the streets below.

The destruction to the buildings and streets was immense, but given the sheer number of enemies, Harlock deemed it a necessary cost.

The enemy decided they were doing too much damage.

Several enemy airships broke formation, punching through the arcane barriers to engage them.

The largest pointed its bow at the Heart, its large frontal gun unleashing a stream of corrosive acid.

The caustic liquid struck the bow, and the metal began to melt away. Damage control crewmen scrambled to pull men from the compromised artillery cannons.

Harlock turned to the gunnery officer, preparing to reroute their targeted fire, when a colossal purple lightning strike arced from Contia’s central tower.

The bolt instantly vaporized the balloons of the enemy ships breaching the barriers, savagely battering their hulls.

The electric onslaught continued, relentlessly zapping the Monevoian vessels until they shook apart and shattered into pieces.

Harlock grunted. That was why the enemy fleet had maintained its distance, circling the city like vultures.

They dared not risk the wrath of Contia’s central Demi-Divine.

As he surveyed their path, a glint of silver caught his eye. A massive wave of Contian Silver Soldiers poured out from the central spire, their flight packs propelling them into the fray.

The Silvers were launching a counter-attack en masse.

  *

Elania touched down on the Neftasu district tower’s roof, Yolani at her side.

The defense turret fired relentlessly into the sky, its thunderous barrage assaulting the enemy airships circling the island.

Elania turned to Yolani, concern etched on her face. “Are you alright?”

Yolani nodded, her expression resolute. “I’m fine.”

Elania bit her lip and nodded. If she said she was fine, then second guessing that wasn’t called for right now.

“I’m going to go check on the battlefield,” Elania replied.

Yolani nodded.

She strode to the edge of the roof, surveying the scene below.

The route leading to the district square was a scorched wasteland, charred black and devoid of life. The remains of an enemy invasion barge lay crumpled in the distance. Groups of guards trudged towards the tower, seeking respite and healing.

The allied airships were decimating the enemy ground forces. Scanning the horizon, she spotted Elysia soaring near the edge of her district’s arcane barriers, hurling green bolts at the Monevoian ships.

Back toward the central spire, Silvers were flying out to engage enemy soldiers and Golds across various battlefronts.

It seemed the tide had turned in Contia’s favor. Elania jumped up into the air while retrieving her telescope.

A quick check on the civilian bunkers revealed that the layered defenses held strong. It didn’t appear that any of them had been breached or even reached by the enemy forces.

Monevoia’s attempt to annihilate the followers of Contia’s Demi-Divine had failed.

Her eyes narrowed as she spotted the enemy flagship.

It hung back, facing the city, its arsenal of long-range artillery unleashing a barrage of magical projectiles at Contia’s barriers.

Despite the deluge, the city’s defenses held resolute.

Lowering her telescope, Elania tucked it back into her bag. She looked up at the sky. The sun was setting.

Almost as if angered by the thought, the sun began to flare, forcing her to shield her eyes. Heat beat down upon her. Her skin began to itch—she realized she was being cooked.

Flaring her [Demonic Aura], she created an air bubble around herself, but that did nothing to stop the searing light from scorching her skin.

Below, spots of the city began to smoke, and people ran for cover and shade. Elania’s heart skipped a beat as she searched for Yolani on the tower roof, relief washing over her when she saw her sheltered behind a conjured stone wall.

Those caught in the open weren’t as fortunate.

Her resilience was the only thing keeping her alive as people and corpses stuck in the open burst into flames, along with everything else.

A swirl of clouds rose from beneath Contia, spinning rapidly under the force of a strong wind. They formed a mushroom cloud above the city, spreading out and blocking the sun.

Elania blinked. The attack from the sun had to be the work of the Sun Emperor, and Contia’s engine countered the attack.

Elania descended towards her Tower’s roof, her gaze drawn to the injured that had found cover. She spread out her [Demonic Aura] as wide as it would go and then applied [Divine Mending] in a golden wave.

Small fires were snuffed out, and the injuries began to slowly heal. It wasn’t a lot of healing, but it was enough for them to continue back toward safety.

As her feet touched the ground, a brilliant flare of gold erupted from the enemy flagship, demanding her attention.

She squinted against the intense light.

A golden figure ascended from the flagship, its radiance nearly blinding.

Elania’s eyes widened as realization dawned on her—it was the Sun Emperor himself.

A golden orb materialized beside him, growing rapidly until it became a miniature sun.

The heat emanating from it washed over Elania, its intensity palpable even from a distance.

He launched it toward Contia.

The projectile elongating into an ellipsoid that expanded as it hurtled through the air.

It collided with the city’s arcane barrier, which flared a deep, vibrant blue, momentarily blocking out the light like a pair of sunglasses.

The barrier pulsed violently, shifting from blue to orange, then to an alarming red. Spiderweb cracks began to spread across its surface, and Elania’s heart sank with the realization that it would soon shatter.

Determination surged through her veins as she resolved to protect the district at all costs.

Drawing deeply upon her [Divine Power], Elania focused on infusing it into her [Demonic Aura]. She concentrated, willing the aura to solidify and harden into a shell, creating a secondary layer of defense for the local area.

The air around her crackled with energy as she pushed the abilities to their limits, the aura spreading out in a shimmering, protective dome.

Contia’s barrier shattered, the yellow plasma washing over the city scorching everything in its path.

A searing wind slammed into her own barrier, the force nearly knocking her off her feet.

She braced herself, hands outstretched, as the roar of incoming energy drowned out all other sounds.

It was like the sun itself had descended on them. She filtered the heat and wind and pressure away, absorbing it with her barrier, but it felt like a giant was pressing down on her with a thumb.

Yolani’s presence registered behind her, her lover’s hands grasping her shoulders, shouting something lost in the chaos.

Elania’s focus redoubled on maintaining her barrier.

Similar barriers rose across Contia, one for each Tower, and the plasma flames surged through the gaps between the colored defensive spheres.

Elania’s eyes widened as the purple barrier erupting from the central spire grew in size, its energy pulsing with outrage. It raced down the expanding cloud of plasma, consuming it like a ravenous wave, devouring the destructive force.

After a minute of raging energy forces, the plasma was consumed, but it had left devastation in its wake. Everything outside the barriers, anything that wasn’t secured underground or inside a vault, was torched.

Small fires continued to burn across the island’s landscape.

Elania frowned, worry etched on her face as she surveyed the destruction.

Movement near the central spire caught her attention, and she watched in awe as Arlois took flight.

Two massive purple wings, far larger than normal and shimmering with energy, erupted from her back.

Arlois soared toward their foe.