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Abominable King
Chapter 95: The Holy War, Phase 2 (III)

Chapter 95: The Holy War, Phase 2 (III)

As Kain circled high overhead, he watched as both sides, those loyal to him and those opposing him, alter their positions and plans on the fly. He could easily see where the forces of Darksol and its satellite-states met those of the People’s Union of Rusk, which meant that he did not need the flare guns to know where to strike. More than anything, he intended for the flare guns to facilitate a change of doctrine. It was remarkably more difficult than one might expect to plan and fight a battle on a two-dimensional plane, and that was not counting all the terrain features which could make said conflict all the more difficult.

By throwing the Airforce into the mix, Kain had intentionally forced both sides to realize the potency of said force. Sure, Fel Bats and Hell Bats were powerful and all, but they were little more than far more mobile melee cavalry. Making everyone realize that you could use air power in a vastly different way opened a lot of new doors. Up until now, most people in Darksol and its client states laughed off the idea that manned flight was a possibility, let alone a useful thing for any kind of situation. Now, however? Kain could only speculate how the people would take the idea he had showed them.

Would they try and emulate his little ‘show’? Would they think it was a passing fad? Would they view it as a solely military matter and attempt to squash any civilian attempts at flight? Kain could only guess what would be said and what would be done.

As he circled, he saw another flare fly over a mob of serfs. As the flare passed over the horde of people, the mass shifted as those who saw what Kain had done just a few minutes prior tried to push their way out of the target area. Kain smirked and readied a few overcharged [Fireball] spells. It had been a slog and a half to figure out how to turn a long-range [Fireball] into something with the same amount of destructive power as a point-blank [Fireball], and now that he had it down to pat, he felt relieved that he had mastered it.

“[Fireball], [Fireball], [Fireball], [Fireball], [Fireball], [Fireball], [Fireball], [Fireball], [Fireball], [Fireball], [Fireball], [Fireball], [Fireball], [Fireball], [Fireball], [Fireball]!” Kain conjured the brilliant orbs of flame and pressure and held them for a few moments to build up the power within them. If he had simply released them right after making them, they would have barely had enough strength to cause heavy second-degree burns. But, by holding them, he could pour more power into them and make the effect far more potent.

After what felt to all parties like a half hour, Kain’s lifted hand fell, as did the sixteen spherical lumps of burning death. The fireballs rocketed towards the area where the flare was sinking and exploded on impact like massive incendiary mortar shells. The heat and pressure stripped flesh from bone and incinerated everything within a seven-meter radius of the impact point. As the orbs found their marks, Kain had already urged his zombie dragon mount into a nosedive. The air screamed past both rider and mount as the undead beast kept its decayed wings tight to its body and streamlined its form. Kain pulled himself closer to the saddle and held on as the ground rushed towards both himself and his ‘steed.’

At what seemed like the last moment before impact, the zombie dragon unfurled its wings and flew over the heads of a great many Ruskians at a blistering speed, vomiting its caustic and cursed bile as it did. As the strafing run was completed, Kain and his mount soared back out of the range of archer fire and began circling the two forces once again.

The battle was not going smoothly. So many people had been butchered by the now even more evil Teutonian bastards, to say nothing of those slain by the undead or that damnable undead lizard with wings. It was widely believed by the People’s Union of Rusk that, among those faithful to the Goddess, Teutonia was the most sinful. After all, their repeated and flagrant violations of the laws set in place by the Church showed that they were lawbreakers at best and apostates at worst. They had repeatedly invaded and seized small amounts of land, constantly growing their territory on the bodies of the good people of Rusk.

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Now they had truly gone over the deep end and sold their souls to the Great Enemy himself. This was to be the moment when Rusk took back everything that had been seized by the Teutonians, but things were not panning out as was desired. The strikes from the corpse-beast that circled high above like a twisted vulture were not only damaging the morale of the serfs, but also improving the morale of the Teutonians! The beast would strike so quickly and then be long gone before any of the archers could even begin to target it.

Those glowing and smoking objects that the living and the dead fired over the heads of the serfs seemed to be the way to signal the corpse-beast. If only one of those things could be captured, then they could us the undead against them! At least, that was the plan until-.

“Never! To use the twisted undead in any way, shape or form is sacrilege! Remember the words of Comrade Cherenkov, who on the eve of this Great Holy War said that we would overcome the enemy without resorting to their own tactics!”

So, that plan was a no-go. The Cleric-Commissar, whose position was even higher than a general like him, could not be ignored. At least, they could not be ignored unless you sought death, excommunication and torture, usually all three and not in that order, but not always.

“Then, your grace, we will have to enter the battle ourselves.” one of the party’s elites remarked.

“Indeed. The elites must enter the fires of war and baptize the sinners with the fury of the Goddess!” the Cleric-Commissar replied.

“Then, we will expect you to lead us, Lord Cleric-Commissar.”

“My position is here, taking measures to execute any who flee the field. Besides, I am too valuable to be sent to the front. My importance to the nation is greater than you could ever know, and therefore I cannot step foot upon the field of battle and risk my life.”

“That must be torture for one so faithful to the Goddess.” one of the generals said with sarcasm. It was obvious to them that the supposedly ‘most faithful out of all of them’ was making excuses to spare themselves the potential death that awaited them.

“Indeed. I wish to take the fight to the evil undead and Teutonians myself, but alas, I cannot. My burden is simply too great, I fear…” The Cleric-Commissar responded, having not noticed the sarcasm and mockery.

The battle was going quite well. The Ruskian peasant mob was unable to deal with the mix of artillery and archer/crossbowman/rifleman/musketeer fire that was complimenting the disciplined ranks of highly-trained infantry. These ‘flare guns’ had also proven to be quite useful. The idea that a mobile aerial force could be called down to attack a specific target with ranged firepower was nothing short of genius! The generals overseeing and directing the Darksol-allied lines had the gears in their heads whirring as they thought of ways to incorporate this into their military doctrine.

The potential options seemed limitless. Bombing a position from outside of the foe’s range, engaging in reconnaissance-in-force and even striking ships, supply trains, fortifications or even entire cities without being attacked; the possibilities were only as limited as their imaginations!

The necromancers seemed enthusiastic about it as well, but this was mostly them wanting a flying lizard as a personal transport than them wanting to innovate the art of war.

“Say, if that ‘Zombie Dragon’ can fly, do you think something else could as well?” remarked one of the generals.

“Well, there are Fel Bats and Hell Bats…”

“That isn’t what I mean.” retorted the general who spoke first. “What I mean is; what if we managed to make a machine that could fly, instead of an undead?”

“That is impossible.”

“But think of the options that it would open up!”

“Yes, but how would it even be done? What could keep a machine up in the air? Is it even remotely possible for a machine, not a creature with magic, to stay in the air for more than a few moments? I highly doubt it. Maybe we should just have Lord Kain hand out a few zombie dragons instead of us going on a wild goose chase and trying to make a flying machine?”

The generals mulled over the idea for a while before one of them had a ‘eureka’ moment.

“Maybe if that ‘Motor Engine’ that is in use in Darksol proper was strapped to a large balloon and pushed or pulled it forwards! Hold my position for me; I have to write out my proposal and send it to the ‘Think Tank’ in Necrograd.”

The general spurred his horse back to camp while the rest of the generals sighed and shrugged their shoulders. This wasn’t the first time that he had come up with a zany idea, and it wouldn’t be the last. They fully expected his idea to fail and fail miserably. Seriously, motor-powered flight? That was just ludicrous, and all the higher ups (save for Erwin Krueger) knew that General Himmel von Zeppelin was a madman for trying to make his ‘War Balloon’ idea a reality for so long.

Could a manned balloon be used to conduct long-range military operations? Impossible!