Letting out a quiet sigh, I finish pouring my cup of tea and immediately bring it to my lips. The steaming water goes down my mouth without issue and I frown in though. Like usual, a brief ponder comes across my mind. Is the magic in the water too weak for me to notice the heat or is my fire magic heritage to blame for this lack of scalding worry?
My mind shifts away from the passing amusement and returns to the topic that convinced me to find this distraction. The reports have been written up, that group the Prince ordered against the giant failed. Half of the airships managed to get out of that encounter and the Prince's response has been to send a fresh number. With those cannons the airships have, he seems to be thoroughly convinced they should be able to destroy it.
He even ordered a small selection of them to desolate some of the country beyond the giant. We've already lost so much and he's making it worse just to make sure his memories are not delusions. Perhaps I need to give it to him loud and straight that the giant is too durable for whatever his guns are capable of. Though, watching this has given me a fair bit of insight into the basics of the weapon.
Whatever Ancient Jhermonikra technology mother and fathered their development, they seem to be built around matter manipulation. In a total diameter of ten metres, nine of which is most directly affected and then dumped into the final metre. What we have is a weapon that seems to either convert or eat up the impacted terrain and then flush it out in a short-lived shrapnel blast.
Potentially bypassing traditional defensive means in their entirety...
"Magic-focused?" I ask myself between sips as my eyes find a display of cakes and biscuits. Nothing fancy, just sweet enough to be edible and dense enough to fill you up should one be eaten. Shaking my head with a heavy breath, I take a brick of cake anyway and get to eating. At least there's something I can break my thoughts up with.
One thing has me worried, though, and looking around at what remains of my staff only keeps it in mind. Although the Union has made no progress in handling the giant compared to what we managed to accomplish. Even with its advance undeterred and more and more land lost, it does not weigh as heavily on me anymore. Maybe the loss of my position as the one to go to for orders is all I need for an explanation or maybe I am glad the Union is not finding this to be easy.
I guess that idea makes sense to me, after all, if we are able, I would like to see to it that the Union is kicked out. The Dual-Republic of Thrurstradtur-Suhurlodst will be restored and this historical hiccup can be forgotten and laughed about. Even with his natural strength, I doubt Prince Jhrartur will have it in him to do much. Not with his condition.
Honestly, I don't think I've ever seen a man look so exhausted before. The closest I can ever think to seeing such a sight in my life is a long time ago. Back when I was still training in my family's keep in Errakur. I was beaten and pushed to my limit and all to ensure I was ready for the endless war that awaited me.
It all seemed so simple back then, aim to fight on the surface of the Fire Mountain, the very core of our world. Shed your blood on its inferno-ridden rock and hold on until your nails are torn out as you desperately cling to keep your family there. I never got anywhere near that state in life, but, the looming dream of it was always there for everyone. To go from the ground of the core's chamber to the greatest gemstone our world will ever know.
"Grandguard Inerish, please report to me." the Prince requests through the Gnomon's speaker system. Grumbling a little, my ears linger on that familiar background noise. He's in my office. Oh, when we do rise up in your ashes, Prince, I will make sure you're thrown in our hardest floored cell so your aching bones will have no good rest!
I finish my cake a little too quickly and gulp down what's left of my tea. Leaving both pieces of porcelain on the nearest table, I snatch up a napkin and wipe my lips. The white, disposable cloth finds a bin in little time and I take the necessary turns to get into one of the main halls. I try not to linger my gaze on anyone but it's a little hard to avoid the guards of my time with what has come to replace them.
Statues in all but name, the Union's soldiers offer no quiet jokes or signs of discomfort. Until the order to change shifts comes, they remain as they are, positioned in such quantities they do not even need to look around. Every fifteen steps maybe I am in line with another Union soldier. I stop to look one in the eye, his beady, orange little eyes.
The pair of them shift and seem to narrow, making me flinch. I blink away my feelings and see that I imagined them doing something. Carrying on with my walk, I try not to think about how many more there could possibly be within the Gnomon alone. The city itself I do not even want to consider, especially with the rumours I've been hearing of their popularity.
The choice I made with the Grand-Kingdom's embassy was not popular at all and the Prince has capitalised on it. He has been quite thorough in ensuring the whole country knows it has been the men of his nation saving lives. Our own soldiers have been brushed aside, actually. We're still handling the evacuations but one city gets publicised everywhere and you'd think we have no men.
The author's tale has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.
Thrurstradtur-Suhurlodst is weaker, not weak.
Striking the request button of a private lift, my right foot taps impatiently for the fast machine to arrive. It opens up and the guard I normally have keeping it occupied and secured surprises me. He's not there anymore, it's more Union troops. A pair of notably ornate ones.
Unlike the typical, unassuming silver of polished steel most of them have. These two break it up with vibrant, Unondsburic Emerald cloth. Near the top of their chests and wrapping around the bi's and triceps, a streak of snow white. And, while their helmets are not too atypical to the usual lobster-tailed pot helms, the centre crests have little, kite-like pieces of cloth.
Some of their magic has gone towards the flashiness of their uniforms. I roll my eyes and press the button that will take me to the same floor as the command centre and my office. The moment it arrives, I slip through the opening doors and leave the statues back to their immaculate display of doing nothing. But, rather than go straight for my office, I head and timidly wait outside the command centre.
Finding as quiet a spot as I can, I lean on the wall and close my eyes, all my focus on my ears. It's busy, like usual, just, not the kind of busy it should be. My men and women still occupy the majority of consoles though it is clear they're tense and on edge. The usual breaks in discipline are not happening and I can feel it, the way their internal-magic shifts away.
They're scared.
Honestly, I'm not surprised with how the Union carries itself. So much of their general staff and the bulk of their armed forces wear those damn helmets. The only exceptions I can name are what they seem to call the Braves and rumour has it they share the popular opinion of we Thrurstradtur people. These Braves don't strike me as anything special, though, just a different name for non-commissioned officers or field communication units.
Leaving the command centre behind, I head to my office and slip in while my secretary is going through the drawers. She looks up and smiles and I return the gesture, I then step into my office. The Prince doesn't even offer me a chance to meet his gaze. This pile of tablets on my desk has swallowed it up entirely.
"You asked for me, Prince-to-Ascend Jhrartur?" I remind him to get his attention and nothing comes of it.
"What are your thoughts on the results of the engagement led by the Royal Jhermonikra Airship Thunderous Brawler?" he asks like a bored child looking for something to do. Though, I'm not sure I can help in that regard as he has a plentiful supply of work in front of him. Maybe I can push my luck and have him clean my desk? Would put a smile on my face, that's for sure.
"Captain-Engineer Redsaal's vessel? Well, my thoughts for the most part are little. No meaningful progress was made." I answer, straightening my lips as I am forced to let out the unfortunate fact. There's a bright side to this, but, there's an eclipse of the Orbital-Halo right now and the dark side is far easier to see.
"I disagree." he mutters and he starts to put in the effort to get up. Watching him rise without a step taken to aid him, he passes a quick glare to me and hobbles to the map display. However, it is turned off. Taking the chance to get back into my seat, however warm and deformed by armour plating its cushions are, though...
Putting in some of the details, the map comes online and he takes a few more steps to ensure my view is not blocked. My fingers remain on the dials and refuse to stop moving. I need him to tell me something specific otherwise it's pointless letting the map settle. Besides, I've been separated from my comfort for too long and I want to savour the feeling of control I once had.
Never was a power-hungry person but I do like controlling others, especially if I can tease them like Nin's red-skinned baker friend... Hm, in line with that thought, actually, I wonder if I can spare the men to go digging through known Ancient Jhermonikra weapon ca-
"Please present a recording of the fight, specifically, when the still-numbered vessel was ordered to begin ramming procedures." he orders and I turn off the map. We don't need that for this, I just need to bring up a holographic magic screen and there!
The Prince 'Ah's' noticeably and he leans in to look closer.
"Can you see it?" he asks and I loop the space between impact and the giant's retaliation. The affair failed so I am not entirely sure what he wants me to look out for. The airship rams the giant with enough speed to shatter its superstructure noticeably, establishing the giant as being fairly strong in form. But, magic aside, that's a given with how impossible its scale is.
Taller than all the mountains around, most not even going past the knee.
Watching the loop one more time and stopping it as the giant grips the airship, I look away with a soft snort, "No."
"The giant recoils and clutches with desperation. It cannot safely take such impacts." the Prince says with quite a bit of certainty given how he's ordered no further ramming attempts. You'd think he would try and throw more airships at it. Perhaps he should use his flagship? I would though my reasoning is to get rid of such a prized warship, not to stop the giant.
"And why are you not making good use of this information?" I ask and he smirks quite noticeably.
"I am." he answers, his own magic taking the room over so he can present a magic screen of his own making. A grand mountain range comes into view, untouched by war and anything close to what the giant can do. Yet, the skies are still shaking, the birds are fleeing and the trees dance, enslaved by forces beyond their control.
One of the peaks starts to rise and a dark-furred arm, covered in the thickest armour I've ever seen comes into view. Its immense muscles tense and a body is pulled over the top of the mountain. A mobile fortress. The mountains next to it repeat the display and another comes into the display.
Both are likely with a full war-witch complement...
The second leaps for the next mountain while the first balances its hind legs on the mountaintop. The titanic beast presents its chest, its mountain-like shell on a latitudinous angle. One hand curls into a fist and so does the other. The mobile fortress roars with all it has, drumming its thick, blocky pectorals.