Chapter 76: Interception 6
Zarek Miroslav brought the telescope to his eye, scanning the horizon.
The signals and flags weren’t visible on the last patrol ship as it crashed and burned, engulfed in flames that licked at the sky.
Outwardly, he remained calm, his expression stoic.
Inside, however, he seethed with anger towards the foolish orders forcing him to place a dozen ships in a useless, vulnerable position just to provoke the Contians.
Behind him, Bishop Darfek ordered him a second time to hasten the attack and destroy the enemy.
Zarek turned around slowly, his movements deliberate and measured. The two paladins serving as his handlers had their hands on their swords, ready to enforce the bishop’s command.
The fool had already ordered the entire fleet into a reckless assault. Even if they outnumbered the enemy two to one, it was foolhardy.
The uncharacteristic low-level clouds that had rolled in with the Contian attack were suspicious, and no self-respecting admiral would attack into the unknown without at least attempting to utilize his scouts.
But here they were, forced into a battle that reeked of ill-conceived strategy and the blind fanaticism the Lightbringers loved.
They had seized control of the Kingdom, deposing King Westvane and putting in place their fanatical ideals. The changes had been slow at first, but as they put together a corps of devoted superhuman soldiers, all ability to resist their rule had folded like a wet rag.
Including his own precious admiralty.
Even Zarek had fallen into obedience as their lapdog when they’d taken his wife and children hostage, one of their favorite tactics.
Zarek finally spoke. “The fleet must maintain cohesion if it is to emerge victorious.”
Bishop Darfek scoffed, his eyes narrowing. “You make me question your piety, Admiral Miroslav. Do you not believe the gods will bless our fleet with victory?”
“Even the most pious must toil and provide their own efforts if they are to be rewarded for their faith,” Zarek replied, his words carefully chosen.
The paladins relaxed their grips on their swords, mollified by Zarek’s response.
“The fleet is already engaging the enemy,” Zarek continued, turning back toward the horizon. “Battle will be upon us soon enough.” He raised his telescope, focusing on the distant ships as they outran the roiling billow of the clouds behind them.
Their formation was ragged and loose, a sloppy display that only made him feel contempt.
Through his telescope, he spotted two light airships, one with a demi-divine whose wings were spread out. His chest tightened at the sight, but he reminded himself that the Monevoians had upgraded their ships, including the Archelo, his flagship.
They could take down one demi-divine, as long as they weren’t as powerful as the Sun Emperor.
That they had at least three or four more hidden somewhere did not inspire confidence.
Zarek waved to one of the crew members and handed him a set of cards with a signal to be raised: “TARGET DEMI-DIVINE IF RANGE ALLOWS.” The man rushed out of the room to inform the signalers.
“What did you just send?” Bishop Darfek demanded.
“I have given the ships their targeting instructions,” Zarek replied, mentally cursing the man as he turned back to watch the approaching fleet through his telescope.
He noticed the cloud again, seemingly following the Contians—a bad sign that was only growing worse. It was obviously artificial. How many more ships were they holding in reserve behind it?
Zarek considered the chances of convincing the bishop to turn off and allow their scouts to investigate while refusing the engagement, but he thought it more likely he’d lose his head for suggesting such a thing.
So, he remained silent.
As the enemy fleet drew closer, the arcane field generators hummed with power, and faint shimmers of protection filled the air. The gunners secured themselves in their armored positions on deck.
Zarek spotted the flares of enemy artillery fire much too soon, well out of range of his own ships.
He shouted for a sailor and handed him a card that read, “Full Ahead, All speed, Engage Enemy.” The sailor ran out to the signalers to raise the flags.
Zarek turned to the helmsman. “Set the Archelo to the front of the formation at full speed.”
“The flagship should remain safe,” Bishop Darfek objected.
“We will not win the battle without presenting the dreadnought,” Zarek countered, his tone firm.
Darfek’s face twisted with displeasure, but he didn’t argue further. The man wasn’t just an ambitious snake; he was a coward.
As Zarek turned back to the front, an enemy shell exploded just ahead of the ship, sending a spray of shrapnel onto the deck.
The small pieces of metal clinked against the Archelo’s metal-clad deck and balloon, while the gunners remained safe behind metal embrasures. One man, caught in the open, was torn to pieces.
Zarek felt a twinge of consternation. The Contian’s new weapon did little to the Archelo, but it would be devastating to the lighter warships comprising the patrol.
Those men had no chance, he realized, seething with anger.
He turned to the gunnery officer and ordered, “Begin targeting with the primary cannon.”
The officer picked up a funnel and shouted the commands into it. At the bow of the dreadnought, a large turret began to point at the nearest enemy ship.
Zarek felt a surge of confidence as the primary cannon finally fired, a large purple lance of light flashing out to strike the lead enemy warship dead on.
Through his telescope, he watched the arcane fields become visible, lasting for several seconds before burning away. The laser slashed through the enemy ship’s balloon with ease, venting two of the three and sending the ship spiraling downward.
Mentally, Zarek noted that was one down.
The enemy fleet fired another long-range volley of artillery.
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It exploded in front of the Lightbringer fleet like a wave, sending metal pricks through the formation. Zarek assessed the damage. It was light but pervasive, a death by a thousand cuts approach.
It wouldn’t be enough. His fleet was made of sterner stuff than that.
Zarek looked at the two smaller airships he had noted earlier and realized the demi-divine was missing. He turned to the gunnery officer. “Tell the sub-gunners to be on alert.”
The gunnery officer shouted into the funnel, relaying the command.
The primary cannon fired again, this time aiming the laser at one of the smaller airships the demi-divine had been on.
Zarek watched through his telescope, his heart pounding as he anticipated the impact.
His breath hitched as the laser stopped halfway to the ship, a radiant display of light in the form of a sphere blocking the beam. The Archelo’s laser dug into the yellow energy but failed to penetrate. A few seconds later, the beam ceased, beginning its recharge cycle.
Zarek pointed to the demi-divine, who had blocked the attack. “Sub-gunners, open fire at maximum range!” he commanded. The gunnery officer quickly relayed the order.
The Archelo’s small turrets pivoted toward the demi-divine and unleashed a barrage of nightmarish purple bolts, dozens of them streaking through the air.
Zarek watched as the anti-divinity rounds hurtled towards their target, his hope swelling as the demi-divine made no attempt to dodge. The purple energy exploded all around the golden-feathered woman, encasing the area in a cloud of purple-black smoke.
Every other ship in the fleet followed the Archelo’s lead, their weapons firing in unison. The demi-divine began to fly away, but it was much too late. Zarek couldn’t believe his eyes—they had struck down one of Contia’s powerful leaders.
He trained his telescope on the falling figure, his heart pounding in his chest. One of her wings was missing, and the other had a massive hole. If Contia’s leaders fell that easily, they’d win the war.
That thought didn’t bring him the satisfaction he expected.
Zarek lowered his telescope, his mind racing with the implications.
The demi-divine’s fall could shift the balance of power in their favor, but at what cost?
He glanced at Bishop Darfek, who wore a triumphant smirk, and felt a twinge of unease.
The Lightbringers’ fanaticism had driven them to this point, but Zarek couldn’t shake the feeling that their victory would come at a heavy price.
Bishop Darfek stepped forward, demanding to know if the heretic was dead.
He opened his mouth to confirm, but the words died on his lips as he realized the demi-divine’s wings were reforming—she was healing.
Fear pricked him for the first time in the battle as her freefall slowed and then reversed, aiming directly for the Archelo.
“Sub-gunners, fire again!” Zarek shouted.
Anti-divinity rounds filled the air, purple smoke billowing around the demi-divine. She moved with impossible speed, zigging and zagging in lengths longer than the shells could fill with their anti-divinity clouds.
Before she reached them, the Archelo’s main cannon fired again, slashing through another Contian warship.
On both sides, airships entered close range and opened fire with their main batteries, the volume of projectiles much higher on the Lightbringer side.
Fire, lightning, and yellow and purple energy splashed and filled the air as the attacks flared on arcane fields and defenses.
Zarek paid it no mind, his attention focused solely on the approaching demi-divine attacker.
He saw the moment she leveled a hand at the Archelo, a lance of white light flaring out and striking the ship’s arcane field. The entire ship shook, and Zarek grabbed a handhold to steady himself.
Then it shook again—and again.
Realization dawned on him as he noticed she was firing multiple times, the sound of the arcane field generators reaching a high-pitched hum as they stressed under the onslaught.
A flicker wrapped around the ship, and then a lance of white light punched through its middle. Metal screeched, and Zarek’s heart sank as he realized the energy had torn a hole through the Archelo despite its metal-clad hull.
He bellowed at the crew to get the field generators back online, his voice cutting through the chaos erupting on the bridge as damage control orders went out and officers organized the response.
The anti-divinity guns opened fire again, filling the air with a barrage of purple bolts, but the demi-divine was much too close. She flew under the ship and then came back around, landing on the deck with a resounding thud.
Zarek tensed as he looked at her, his hand instinctively reaching for his sword.
Everyone on the ship’s deck turned to face the intruder, their eyes wide with a mixture of fear and awe.
Two paladins rushed out to attack, their blue blades gleaming in the sunlight, but the demi-divine flexed her wings and sliced them in half with a single, swift motion.
Zarek turned toward Bishop Darfek, who had gone white as a sheet. “You should probably have your paladins deal with the boarding,” Zarek said, his voice dripping with sarcasm.
Darfek screeched at him, his face contorted with rage.
The paladins pushed out of the control room, their armor clanking as they moved to confront the demi-divine.
Zarek looked at a crewman, a young man who seemed terrified by the unfolding events. “Signal ‘Boarding Action’!” Zarek yelled.
The young man nodded and ran off to carry out the order.
Zarek turned back to his telescope, scanning the battlefield for another target. He pointed to a Contia warship, one of their largest, and ordered the gunnery officer to target it with the main cannon.
Zarek watched as the weapon yawed and elevated, preparing to fire.
Just as it was about to unleash its attack, the enemy demi-divine reached the turret and grabbed it with her wings. With a sickening screech of metal, she ripped the cannon from its mount and tossed it over the side.
Flames shot upward out of the turret hole, painting the sky with an orange glow.
Zarek felt ice in his spine as he realized the severity of the situation.
Only a single option remained.
He turned to the helmsmen. “Set a collision course for the nearest enemy warship.”
Zarek watched as the deck ran awash with blood, the crimson liquid pooling around the fallen bodies of a dozen paladins who had attacked the demi-divine with no success.
They had died without even coming closer to her, their lives snuffed out like candles in the wind.
As he witnessed the carnage, Zarek couldn’t help but wish that King Westvane had warriors capable of such a feat before he was deposed by the archbishop.
A blast of light from the demi-divine exploded one of the Archelo’s balloons, the sound of the rupture echoing across the deck.
Still, the ship maintained its course, the powerful engines and the remaining three balloons enough to compensate for the loss.
Zarek tore his gaze away from the destruction and looked to the rest of the fleet.
To his relief, they were getting the better of the enemy. The Contia warships were aflame, their hulls blackened and smoldering.
The Tirian ships, on the other hand, were well within close range, their superior numbers and formation allowing them to pick on the enemy in two and three-on-one engagements.
They had won the battle but lost the flagship. That was a loss in itself, though one he could live with.
Zarek turned to a nearby crewman. “Raise the ‘ANTI-DIVINITY, ME, FIRE’ flags,” he ordered. The young man’s eyes widened in terror at the meaning.
Bishop Darfek, who had been cowering nearby, suddenly found his voice. He screamed at Zarek, his face contorted with rage. “You can’t order our own ships to fire on us!”
Zarek’s patience had reached its limit.
Without hesitation, he pulled out his single shot ceremonial weapon and aimed it at Darfek. The bishop’s eyes widened in shock, but before he could utter another word, Zarek pulled the trigger.
The shot rang out, and Darfek crumpled to the ground, a gaping hole in his forehead.
Zarek looked at the shocked crew, his face grim. “Send the signal,” he ordered.
The crewman hesitated for a moment, his eyes wide with disbelief, but he quickly snapped to attention and rushed to carry out the command.
On the deck, the demi-divine continued her rampage, ripping off chunks of the ship with each devastating attack.
The remaining paladins fell one by one, their bodies littering the blood-soaked deck. Zarek watched as she stripped half the hull of its turrets, leaving the Archelo vulnerable and exposed.
His heart pounded in his chest as the demi-divine raised her golden pistol towards the bridge.
Zarek braced himself for the impact, but before she could fire, a wave of purple shells washed over the ship.
The anti-divinity rounds passed through the now non-existent arcane fields, bathing the demi-divine and the Archelo in their destructive energy.
Zarek felt a surge of satisfaction as he watched the woman as she was washed off the side like another piece of debris along with half the strewn corpses.
It was a minor victory, but one he would take in the face of their dire situation.
“Admiral, we’ve lost lift,” the helmsman reported. “We’re falling.”
Zarek nodded, unsurprised by the news. He had known the Archelo wouldn’t last much longer. “Give the order to abandon ship,” he commanded. “All hands to the parachutes.”
As the crew scrambled to evacuate, Zarek turned his attention to the cloud bank ahead. His frown deepened as it began to clear, revealing a sight that made his blood run cold.
A massive city of floating islands emerged from the dissipating mist, its presence both awe-inspiring and terrifying.
Zarek clenched his hands, realizing the true extent of their miscalculation.
A thousand cannons opened fire on the Lightbringer fleet, their thunderous roar filling the air. Dozens of lasers, each as powerful as the Archelo’s, carved into his fleet, cutting through ships like a hot knife through butter.
They had been utterly defeated—crushed.
The only solace he could find was the thought that they would no longer have to fight for the self-righteous bastards who had led them to the slaughter.
A blinding yellow laser cut through the Archelo, its searing heat the last thing Zarek felt before everything went dark.