Demon placed his hand on the floor, sending a sliver of Ein to seep into the hidden crack that led to the core of the airship, a small translucent orb, and gained control of the airship. Like an extension of his body, the airship's reaches and surroundings became known, his eyesight stretching to encompass a bird's eye view of the ship. The situation didn't favor them. The reinforcements from the Lands of Zeret unleashed their beastly fury; the gorillas, wreathed in elemental power, broke through the enemy ranks, enduring shallow wounds on their thick skin, and the crows slipped through the gaps, releasing a rain of feathers to stop the enemy's advance.
But it wasn't enough. More Exalts poured out from the hatch in the enemy's airship, slowly filling in the gaps created by the initial ambush, weathering the beasts' onslaught with a flurry of defensive spells, their allies taking a moment to catch their breaths before coordinating a counterattack. Demon peered from the battlefield around them that reached a delicate balance, neither side giving an inch. He gazed up at the broken sky and frowned. Powerful Ein sundered the sky in torrents of chaos like a blue tapestry torn to shreds. The upper sky was now impossible to tread. The King Exalts made sure of that. That left only one path, below, near the ocean's surface.
The Ein raged inside him and burned crackles of light into the core. The engines rattled momentarily, and light blasted from its exhausts, the airship now diving straight down. Shouts called out after him. A detachment of enemy Exalts started to chase, already casting several spells. Helen entered her Integration, snow owl wings unfurling from her back, wielding her circular-blade spear adorned with feathers. Her feathers spread, jewels of flickering white that glittered brightly and clung to the enemy's spells like snowflakes on cloth. Their attacks slowed, and they switched to defensive spells, pushing onward against the tide of feathers.
'A little more.' Steadying his feet, Demon balanced himself on the airship, near vertical to the horizon, raising a hand, and the others glanced back and nodded. The pursuers drew closer. But it wasn't time yet. Above him, Helen grunted, a forceful breath of exertion, and struck out, her weapon elegantly splitting the incoming attacks in wide arcs akin to the crescent moon. Time seemed to slow as Demon watched them. Two hundred feet. One hundred feet. Their armaments blazed with their Ein, prepared to break their airship. Fifty feet. Not a bead of sweat formed on any of his loyal men, fully prepared for the worst. Once the enemy reached ten feet away and readied to fire a barrage of spells for close combat, Demon stated, "Now."
He commanded the ship, activating its other special ability, and against all odds, it abruptly changed directions, changing from its freefalling dive to speed along the horizon, the bottom of its hull skimming on the ocean's surface. The immense force of carrying out such an endeavor almost knocked everyone off board, but Helen's feathers and Restel's shadows latched on, sticking them to the airship. Santen wrapped his long arms around everyone, binding them like steel bands to hold them in place, his feet caving into the floor. Demon bent down and poured more Ein to stabilize the ship, burning more through its engines that redirected to burn straight down, opposing the downward pull of their fall. Erden joined in, expanding his wings to hang down the ship's sides, surging flames from their branches. Like a hawk, the airship soared across, now freed from the water.
Some of the pursuers crashed straight into the water, great pillars of seawater erupting for each one. Others managed to veer off but lost their direction, scrambling out of control as they skipped along the ocean like a rock. A few more powerful Exalts had proper control of their flight and kicked off the water, launching themselves off to greater speeds, still chasing them. Hector laughed and entered his Integration, a living black furnace in human form. He swung his furnace hammer, engulfing the enemy in pure flames, concentrated to the form of magma.
According to the map he had been given, the passageway to the Rusk Continent was fastest in the Rudean Strip, a strip of ocean that passed by three other continents, its currents always in one direction, directed by a great gale that passed parallel to the strip. Riding this strip, Demon knew it would only be a few hours to cross the Rudean Strip. A few hours until Squarmo could send him off. A few hours that the enemy certainly could not give freely. A few hours until Avril. 'Wait, Oscar. You'll survive.' He thought to his other self.
"Surrender!" A Greater Marshal Exalt shouted, his voice forcing the ship to stutter, its engines flickering. Demon grabbed Helen before she could leap away and shook his head. The side of his airship flung open, and a spinning mess of powerful Ein soared, clashing against the Greater Marshal Exalt. Carcoatl and Sqaurmo didn't leave him without more protectors. The spinning blur slowed, revealing itself to be another black snail shell. A slimy body protruded from the opening, its eyes peeking out, one turning to the enemy and the other to Demon.
The author's content has been appropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.
'Go. My siblings and I will protect you.' The snail puckered its strange mouth and hissed out a spew of purple substance, creating a trail of smoke on the water's surface as it evaporated rapidly, more trying to rush in to fill the gap before suffering the same fate.
"Damned snail!" The Greater Marshal Exalt tore off his coat before the substance could eat into his skin.
More Greater Marshal Exalts descended, sending a piercing gaze at them. More snails rushed out of the airship like cannonballs, ramming into their opponents. They equaled the enemy in number, strange to Demon. Everything perfectly matched, whether it was the number of forces between the enemy and his allies. Judging from the enemy's reactions when the beasts arrived, they surely didn't know about the reinforcements. It irked him. It was as if people had placed pieces on the chessboard, all equal, and were now beginning to play.
What was Carcoatl up to? He hated the lack of control. But that was part of the need for support to survive. Refocused, Demon zipped the airship to the side to avoid a beam of light that would have caught them, a part having touched the edge, a noticeable gap in the metal beams. Helen looked to Demon, and he gave his consent. She palmed Hector's flaming, armored cheek with a loving smile, swiping her wings, scattering feathers to encase them in a protective layer. Light and ice danced above, a scene Oscar might call wondrous as the shattered ice glimmered with sparks of radiance.
An hour later, Hector also had to leave, his hammer crashing into his foe in a flare that engulfed them. Demon looked down, noting that their shadows were overlapping. An enemy came close, a stronger Middle Marshal Exalt. Santen clapped his hand, blocking the enemy's sword that burned an ominous black flame, a flicker of shock crossing the foe's features as he saw the flame do nothing to Santen. Kragg let out a lion's roar, disorientating the enemy before he could rouse his Ein for another attack. The enemy gasped as Marcus plunged his scaly arm through the chest, and Demon slashed the head off for the killing blow.
"Marcus! Be faster with that!" Kragg roared.
"Shut up. He still had some sense in him even after your roar. Do your job properly." Marcus said, facing the other way.
"Calm down. Calm down. We still have a long way to go." Santen clapped his hands several times, dispersing all manners of spells. Two enemies came from different directions, but Santen whipped his long arms to deflect both of their blows, his hands riddled with cuts and burns. Swiftly, Kragg swiped his fists at them, the lightning paralyzing them for an instant that Marcus used to pierce into their chests. Slashing down, Demon sent two more heads to fall into the ocean, left for the sharks.
He couldn't focus on the other battlefields as more assaulted them in waves. A Primaere faction was a cut above the others, fielding many Marshal Exalts beyond the norm. Santen continued to defend, the skin on his hands exposed to the salty hair, but no pain showed on his fish-like face. Kragg overwhelmed them with his roars and lightning to halt them long enough for Marcus to severely injure them, leaving them vulnerable to Demon's killing slash. Though the Marshal Exalts were many, the quality of power he and the others possessed outstripped theirs. Restel also provided a steady stream of Ein into them, refilling their losses.
They could endure.
As they traveled further, the battlefield followed. The large airship floated along the great gale of the strip. No matter what, Demon felt the gaze of the one named Old Jules watching him from above, the old King Exalt mumbling to himself while tapping his finger on his walking stick. Where were the other armies? What game were the Primaeres playing? The board was now almost in his favor.
But he spoke too soon. Another large airship descended from the storm clouds, possibly hidden there the entire time. The top resembled a large steering wheel, its spokes pointed outward and rotating on a tower. Each spoke opened, and a new batch of Exalts emerged, glancing at his ship. Scrutinizing each person, Demon narrowed his gaze at one, a woman who heavily resembled Avril with her gold eyes, a difference clear in the long brown hair, Avila Venelair, accompanied by the old man, the burly man named Tiron, and the supposed brother-in-law Serit.
'The Defiants? Why are they here as well? Is that blasted head's ideas that alluring?' Demon stopped his ship. The battle also halted, everyone glaring at the newcomers.
"So this one is Isaac's heir?" Space cracked, a tear of distorted spatial energy swirling in the broken air. A figure slowly stepped out, wearing a golden mask shaped like a man's face, a black mantle over his white, regal robes of embroidered art and rich fabric, and gloves on his hands that held a crystal scepter. The world turned silent at his coming, the chaotic disturbances in the sky patching back into its bright blue and the oceans clean of all the filth from the spells it endured. A crown manifested over his head. A circle of white Ein that held three white spokes, carrying three brilliant gems in its sockets, giving credence to his power, a Trigem Primaere.
"Another one…." Demon looked past the ship—only thirty minutes until the threshold.