The nest, the capital planet and home world of the Dracon empire and its house was a large and beautiful world, adorned with trees that burned with harmless fire, exotic avian birds flew through the air, its rivers sparkling as clean as crystals and their continents, cities and towns were a work of art. All those changed with the coming of the omega blade and his dreaded armada, the true might of the planet had been called upon, its clans, sects and powers had arisen, and the once beautiful, lush and verdant world had been transformed into an impregnable fortress.
The capital world of House Dracon, the majestic heart of their sprawling empire, became a bastion of unparalleled defenses. Its fortifications stood tall and proud, a testament to the might and ingenuity of the dragon and serpentine species that called it home.
The towering walls encircling the capital city were a sight to behold. Fashioned from a unique blend of dragon-scale-infused mithril, they possessed an ethereal sheen, radiating an aura of invincibility. These impenetrable barriers would repel all even the most determined and formidable adversaries.
But the strength of House Dracon's defenses extended far beyond the physical realm. Arcane technologies interwove seamlessly with their mechanical wonders, creating a harmonious blend of power. Energy shields, powered by ancient and enigmatic arcane devices, shimmered with an otherworldly luminescence. These ethereal veils enveloped key structures, deflecting assaults and rendering them impervious to harm.
Within the city's core, the arts of aetheric magic flourished. Skilled enchanters and mages, their eyes ablaze with raw aetheric energy, wove intricate spells to erect formidable barriers. These magical defenses were not static but adaptable, shifting and evolving to thwart the ever-changing strategies of their potential invaders.
A symphony of runic scripts adorned the cityscape, etched with precision and imbued with aetheric potency. These ancient symbols, harnessing the very essence of intent, aura and mana, amplified the might of defensive spells. From the fiery tongues of the elemental fire to the tranquil depths of the watery domain, from the unwavering strength of the earth to the capricious winds of the air, these runic scripts harnessed the primal forces of aether, bestowing devastating power upon those who could decipher their intricate meanings.
The skies above House Dracon's capital world roared with elemental might. Aether elementals, magnificent beings born from the very fabric of magic, took flight with majestic grace. These dragon-like entities, suffused with the power of their respective elemental domains, soared through the heavens, peak master ranks all of them. Flames engulfed the skies, icy gales swept across the land, seismic tremors shook the earth, and tempestuous winds howled with unyielding force. Their presence alone assured to strike fear into the hearts of would-be invaders, for they embodied the indomitable strength of House Dracon's elemental allies.
In the convergence of mechanical marvels, advanced technologies, and the boundless potential of aetheric magic, House Dracon's capital world stood as an impregnable fortress. Its defenses, an awe-inspiring testament to the unyielding spirit and resourcefulness of its inhabitants, served as a resolute deterrent to any who dared challenge their dominion. It was a formidable sight that left even the most audacious of invaders in awe, for within these defenses lay the unwavering resolve and united might of an empire rooted in ancient traditions and limitless potential.
All these were designed in mind to stop an armada in its tracks, to hold them down in a battle of bloody attrition for nothing less than an archailect standard year. The planet a power on its own, what protected the planet from space itself was another wall for the incoming invaders,
House Dracon's armada stood as a formidable celestial force, safeguarding the capital world from any extraterrestrial threats. Their fleet, an embodiment of technological prowess and aetheric might, patrolled the vast expanse of space surrounding the planet, ready to defend their dominion at a moment's notice.
The armada's flagship, a colossal vessel known as the "Dracon’s Fury," dominated the center of the fleet formation. Adorned with ornate dragon-inspired motifs, its hull shimmered with dragon-scale-infused plating, a symbol of House Dracon's indomitable power. The vessel bristled with an array of aether-powered weaponry, capable of unleashing devastating barrages with lightning speed.
Supporting the flagship were sleek and agile vessels, known as "Wyrm-class interceptors." These smaller craft, swift as the wind, weaved through the void of space with exceptional maneuverability. Armed with rapid-firing aether cannons and guided by skilled pilot ascenders, they acted as the armada's nimble guardians, intercepting and neutralizing enemy threats swiftly and decisively.
At the heart of the armada's defense network orbited an imposing orbital station, christened the "Aegis Citadel." A marvel of engineering and aetheric enchantments, the station brimmed with a formidable arsenal of aether-powered weaponry. Its energy shields enveloped the station, pulsating with raw magical energy, shielding it from enemy attacks.
Beyond the orbital station, a small moon, once barren, had been transformed into a fortified mini fortress. Rising proudly amidst the lunar landscape, the "Dracothorn Stronghold" stood as a testament to House Dracon's indomitable power. Its surface, etched with ancient draconic symbols, bristled with concealed weapon emplacements, poised to unleash the fury of aetheric cannons upon any hostile forces that dared approach House Dracon's domain.
With this change, the Dracothorn Stronghold embodied the strength and legacy of the dragon lineage, an impregnable bastion protecting the capital world from the depths of space.
All these were the inner defense force, separate from the armada that protected the outer planets in the final system that house Dracon held to themselves. The commander of the entire armada, lord commander Vaelin Stormscale by himself manned the largest vessel itself, the Dracon’s fury. Vaelin Stormscale, a renowned and formidable humanoid dragon, commanded the entirety of House Dracon's armada, his presence inspiring awe and respect among his subordinates. Embracing the path of the "Ethereal Strategist," Vaelin possessed an unparalleled mastery of tactics and battlefield maneuvering.
Through the guidance of his chosen path, Vaelin had honed his mind to become a masterful tactician. His keen intellect allowed him to perceive the battlefield as a vast chessboard, deftly moving the armada's forces with calculated precision. Like an ethereal maestro, he orchestrated the symphony of starships, directing their movements and coordinating their attacks with unmatched finesse.
One of the remarkable aspects of Vaelin's path was his heightened ability to anticipate the actions of his adversaries. His intuition, honed through years of experience and the mystical connection to his draconic heritage, granted him glimpses into the enemy's intentions. With this foresight, Vaelin could predict the ebb and flow of battle, adjusting his strategies to counter and outmaneuver his opponents.
In the crucible of conflict, Vaelin Stormscale embodied the essence of the Ethereal Strategist. His commanding presence, tactical brilliance, and the uncanny ability to decipher his enemies' intentions made him an unparalleled leader within House Dracon's armada. Under his guidance, the armada's forces moved as one, a formidable celestial force that struck fear into the hearts of those who dared challenge House Dracon's dominion.
He had heard of the outer armada’s fall to the devices of the omega blade, and to be honest, Vaelin wasn’t fazed by the reports, to be honest, he had expected it, they were the disposable arm of the Dracon’s armada. Despite the greedy aims of Zephyrion, the upstart dragon who had aims of impressing the upper echelons of house Dracon in order to be given the position of grand commander of the armada of house Dracon and in effect, deposing Vaelin of the position he had held for close to three solid centuries of service.
And as all hatchlings did, he had committed his forces too early, played the hands he had and right into the keen observing clutches of the omega blade’s forces. It amused him to no end when Zephyrion had begun calling for reinforcements and Vaelin had simply sat on his throne abord the Dracon’s fury, observing with a cold detached look on his face but his mind and heart throbbing with grim pleasure, at least clan iron claw having lost their scion would retreat back to their kingdom in perpetual silence, knowing better than to rear their heads for the next century or so,
Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.
Assuming of course, they survived this battle anyway,
He had watched as what remained of the armada at the outer reaches scuttled to move closer to their respective planets and hunker down. It was assured that they would either successfully defend the planets they had retreated to, or they would perish with those planets. Already communications between the nest, the grand armada and the planets were already fracturing, whatever methods the forces of the omega blade were employing to keep them from contacting their sister planets, it was proving effective. He eyed the armada of the omega blade as elements of the vast fleet broke off at different worlds, ships changing their trajectory towards the planets and their orbital stations, facing bombardments even as they sent pods after pods of ascenders in their hundreds towards the fires of war,
It spoke to just how far house Dracon had fallen for so many worms to rise against them, the omega blade was different, Vaelin respected strength and despite the fact that he’d unfortunately be ending that upstart child today, the omega blade was worthy of his attention, those half-baked ascenders trailing behind his cloak and wielding a half-baked version of the path of the reaping katana aggravated him to no end.
He wished he could burn them all with his ethereal flames, cast their consciousness and willpower from their very being, turn them to drooling, mindless constructs built for labor alone. He however casted such thoughts from his mind, those chances would come soon enough, as long as he ensured the nest itself was protected. The Dracon’s fury contacted the Dracothorn stronghold, Vaelin frowning as the transmission cracked and struggled to connect despite the fury being close to the stronghold itself. Hidden within the black side of the moon turn fortress, the vessel laid in waiting, watching through drone sensors as the star fortress of the omega blade rumbled closer, its weapons blasting at the orbital station that wrapped the nest like a ring, the aetheric shields shuddering under the impact of the continuous attacks despite firing their capital guns in return, the blast battering at the fortress with what appeared to be minimal damage.
Vaelin spoke, his soft elderly voice coming as a crisp command under his expert gaze,
“Prepare the main gun, put all power to maximum and fire on my say so” he commanded, eyes flickering through the field as he gave commands through his Hud to the other vessels under the armada still hidden out of sight, the dragon was ready to pounce.
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Ajax had lost all sense of time, wrapped up in his chaos bubble as he called it, his black runes glowing like starlight under his meditation. He shuddered as another dose of power suffused him, fighting off the overwhelming urge to join the battle that raged just outside of his star fortress. Fists bunched together in perpetual darkness, his now pale white skin glowed with a power from an unknown source, sweat beading his forehead, he twitched as he saw it all,
The entire war around him,
The path of the omega blade, the path infused with a power that felt like an anathema to the very archailect itself allowed him, no, fed him with the aspect of pure chaos itself, and wherever there was chaos, he could thrive. He watched as Yona was repelled by the red jaw, watched as her attack against the prime forge planet of Wyrmforge faltered, watched as Anala red jaw played to her weakness and exploited the chink in the Rippingblade’s mental strength and frowned, his very instinct to rip open space into the Nethervoid and end the red jaw then and there.
At least, that was what the old Ajax would have done,
He felt his aspect resist his command, felt its very nature actually congeal as the presence he was beginning to realize possessed his aspect disagree with his mandate,
“NO” he thought,
The slippery presence relenting under the authority of his strength and willpower, the strange Hud he had acquired from the moment he accepted the path of the omega blade coming to life,
“Go after target” the presence wrote,
Ajax felt his temper rise, something that had been happening for a while now as Krial appeared within the darkness of the space bubble he was resided within. Gripping the blade, he snarled, eyes glowing despite their pit darkness,
“I choose” he hissed,
The presence relented, feeling its hold weakening under his steel will, releasing a sigh of relief, he wondered just what was happening to him, ever since the lord of abyss, Molrik the mutator had perished under the blade of the titan blade, his aspect had been having fits of moments when it felt like another will was controlling it,
A will that had a direction of its own,
He crushed that mindset though, there was no will apart from his, and whatever will it was, the cosmic dragon had crushed it as well, the evidence being when she had revealed she wielded the same power of chaos, albeit to a lesser degree. This time he felt the fledgling…. presence within his aspect coil in what he could only assume to be disgust over that train of thought, a terrifying prospect for it meant that the presence could read his mind.
He opened his eyes within the darkness as he saw the armada waiting for him behind the Dracothorn stronghold, a smile on his face as he got up, the bubble melting away around him, two ascenders in the black armless robes of his fledgling sect kneeling before him. He nodded at them, feeling the spark of true fire that was the path of the reaping katana within their bodies, diamonds the both of them. They rose, identical twins, serrated edged blades in their hands,
“My lord, we get ever closer to the nest, should we unleash the forces?’ the first asked, a male with his left eye blinded,
“The commanders acknowledge a 20 percent casualty rate before we pierce the skies of the nest, an acceptable risk” the other twin replied, a female missing her right eye,
Ajax had idly wondered how they had lost their respective single eye, but he sensed it was a touchy story, no doubt leading to something house Dracon had done. He glanced at the dragon that had been staked to the ground of his chamber, the grey and steel colored but now dead beast adorning the ground.
Zephyrion iron claw he was called,
He was supposedly in charge of the forces meant to hold down the forces of Ajax, that was, until Ajax had sent two of his masters, Yona and Jothas. They had broken through the protective runes of the vessel, tearing through the forces of the serpents and bringing a bloodied, broken and nearly dead Zephyrion to Ajax. And then the omega blade had torn through the mind of the master, he broke down the very walls of sanity that protected the dragon from the truth.
It was amusing how perpetually the entire inhabitants of the archailect lived in blissful ignorance about the dangers and powers that existed outside of their physical realm. Were they aware of the powers that existed even beyond the reaches of the inhabitants of the abyss themselves?. Only those who were found worthy could survive such an experience, could grab the power,
The power of chaos itself,
Zephyrion had been found wanting, and even as the dragon died a most terrible death, his very existence burning away within the embrace of oblivion, the realm of chaos itself, Ajax found no pity for the dragon. With the blackened and desiccating husk of the dragon noble of clan iron claw left behind, Ajax shook his head,
“No, our forces wouldn’t even make it past the skies, the defenses of the nest are legendary, I will deal with it, but first, I need to handle our friends at the Dracothorn stronghold and the armada hiding behind them” he replied,
“Should I assemble the martyrs?” the male twin asked,
The martyrs,
A group of ascenders, powered by Ajax himself, swollen with his aspect and acting as his pseudo-emissaries of his. However, it came with a clause, the powers granted to them were a one-time use thing, meaning they would expire along with the powers. Ajax hadn’t been comfortable with such a proposal at first, but it had been one of the boons of his path, a blessing he could bestow on his followers, and he had given it to those who were dying already, whose malady had come from working the toxic mines of house Dracon, the poisonous cultivated stones used in building prisons across their empire.
Again he shook his head,
“No, no need wasting them till we reach our goal, I will clear the stronghold myself, prepare the ship to bombard the stronghold when I give the signal” he ordered,
“By your will lord” they replied,
With a brief effort of will, he opened a pathway through to the surface of the stronghold, feeling runic barriers of protections break down around his power, Ajax passing through. The moment he stepped foot on the moon, he felt the arcane rune mages lock on to him, feeling them gather their powers as the aether obeyed their commands, a vortex of intent and mana swirling around him. Ajax released the first seal of his power,
The ever hunger,
A power of his chaos that allowed him to feed of the powers of aether itself, it took a big chunk of the aether, swallowing both the powers and the portion of willpower and authority that came with the attacks. At once, over ten mages died, their very aspects swallowed, Ajax pushed on, feeling runic blistering attacks of lightning, lava, even a mental attack slam into him. His mantle, the billowing tattered cloak shed them all like a duck in water, his blade flashing through the landscape, explosions ringing around him. The artilleries of the fortress, a looming stronghold unleashing its cannons on him.
The crusts of the fortress burned away in a hail of dragon fire, Ajax laughing as he pushed on, not even dragon fire enough to burn him, blasting up towards the platforms where the cannons were situated. His ruler ranked perception awakened to the presence of the first true obstacles in his path, a team of augmented dragons, mithril forged bionic parts fused with flesh and enhanced to perfection stepped in his path, cleaving weapons going for his skull, imbued with runes that Ajax stared to his surprise were jade in nature.
Assessing the ascenders in front of him, he smiled through the helm protecting his face,
“The Darksteel Wyrmguard” he said,
The giant form of their leader, a man in a robe pointed a cleaver with runes of pure destruction at him,
“Your rampage ends here accursed one” he said, his face a mixture of metal and flesh, blue lines of aether running across his body,
Ajax chuckled and shot for him.