Chapter 29: The Wolves Descend

The launch bay of The Steadfast thrummed with power, red warning lights flashing as the countdown initiated. The clamps holding the Solarion-Lupus Revise in place hissed as they released. Inside the cockpit, Garett’s fingers danced over the controls, feeling the hum of his war machine as it awakened. The HUD flickered to life, painting his vision with tactical readouts and a crimson outline of the battlefield below. He took a deep breath, grinning as he hailed the bridge.

"Garett Fenralis, Solarion-Lupus Revise heading out!"

A split-second later, another voice cracked through the comms, sharp and confident.

"Anya Blackstark, Direhound Command, launching!"

The other Direhound pilots followed in swift succession.

"Nissa, moving out!"

"Jerik, let’s get this over with!"

"Brody, systems green, locked and loaded!"

"Brenn, bringing the thunder!"

The mechs roared to life, launching from the underbelly of The Steadfast in streaks of burning luminite thrusters. The weight of gravity yanked them down toward the war-torn landscape below. The battlefield stretched out beneath them like a living storm—flashes of fire, ice, lightning, and wind ripping through the air. The Emberclad rebels had no shortage of battlemages, and their magic tore at the sky like an angry god’s wrath.

A hailstorm of elemental magic surged toward Solarion-Lupus Revise as soon as it cleared the ship’s defenses. Shock, Frost, Blaze, and Gale magic crackled and exploded against its mithrititanium plating, but the armor held firm. The mech cut through the carnage like an unyielding titan.

"Not even worth putting up barriers," Garett muttered. He leaned forward, fingers wrapping around the triggers.

The back-mounted luminite cannon charged in an instant, golden heat pooling at its core before unleashing a volley of Starfire beams. Blazing lances of raw luminite energy streaked through the air, incinerating any unfortunate bastard to be in their path. Rebel foot soldiers and lesser mechs were reduced to burning silhouettes before collapsing into ash. A clearing formed at the outskirts of Vellmont’s walls, enough for the Direhounds to land.

Yet more Drakeguard mechs came to intercept them, their towering forms streaking through the air, firing off torrents of elemental magic from their dragon-forged maws. Shockwaves of flame, ice, and raw arcane energy blasted toward the descending mechs, forcing quick evasive maneuvers.

***"Astrum fornótt, ignis eximius!

Muspelheim's flamma, descendite!

Fornótt's fury, inimicis imminet!

Ignis, excrucians, hostes contere!"***

Ignis Fornótt!

Before the enemy could fully converge, the sky above ignited in a cascading rain of fire—Lyra, from the deck of The Steadfast, unleashing an inferno that slowed their advance. The Drakes reeled, their armor scorched and cracked, moments before The Steadfast’s luminite cannons roared to life, reducing them to smoldering wreckage in a single, blinding salvo.

The thundering impact of mechs hitting the earth shook the battlefield. Direhound units fanned out, their weapons locking into position.

Anya’s voice crackled through the comms. "Milord, with all due respect, I’m surprised you’re able to pilot a mech…"

Garett smirked. "I kind of invented a little something—makes me able to use magic."

Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

Silence. Then a sharp inhale from Anya. "That… sounds amazing! So that’s how you were able to fight the knight back in Elderwynd—"

Jerik’s voice cut in. "I hate to burst your little love bubble there, chief, but we got Iron Revenants incoming!"

A low metallic growl rumbled through the air as the hulking forms of Iron Revenants marched over the ruined battlefield, their rotting flesh bound within monstrous suits of power armor. Voidsteel plating encased their decayed frames, and crimson sigils pulsed across their grotesque forms, feeding them with a twisted mockery of life. Their jagged blades and heavy gauntlets crackled with unstable energy, a fusion of corrupted luminite and raw elemental power, as their hollow eyes glowed with the ember of undeath.

"Alright, boys and girls," Anya’s voice was like steel. "Let’s show them what happens when you step into our hunting grounds."

Nissa giggled. "Captain, do I have permission to go absolutely feral?"

"Nissa, I swear to the gods—" Anya started, but it was too late.

The petite pilot’s Direhound shot forward, twin daggers flashing in the haze. She moved like a ghost, ducking and weaving between the towering Iron Revenants, severing exposed joints and cutting deep into power cores. Sparks and gore-colored oil splattered across her mech’s sleek plating.

"Damn it, Nissa!" Jerik groaned. "Why do you always make me look slow?"

"Because I’m adorable and fast," she chirped.

"No, you’re a menace," Brody muttered, locking a fresh clip into his luminite rifle.

Brenn, the walking artillery, planted his feet and unleashed hell. The Direhound's massive shoulder-mounted cannons roared, sending seismic shockwaves through the earth as explosive shells tore through rebel ranks. Enemy mechs crumpled under the relentless barrage, flames erupting in all directions.

"Keep ‘em off me while I reload!" Brenn barked.

"I got you, big guy," Brody replied, deploying an automated turret as he fired precise shots into any enemy that dared approach. His Direhound moved fluidly, shielding Brenn while keeping their firepower at maximum.

Garett, meanwhile, was an unstoppable force. Solarion-Lupus Revise carved through the battlefield with ruthless efficiency, slashing through Iron Revenants with its plasma blade and tearing apart rebel mechs with pinpoint cannon fire. The Azeroth drive and his mech's modified systems hummed with power, the forbidden fusion of technology and magic working in tandem to make him a walking god of war.

One of the larger Iron Revenants lunged, its colossal axe descending toward him. Garett’s mech twisted, avoiding the blow by mere inches before driving its blade deep into the enemy’s core. Sparks flew as the titan of steel staggered, its body locking up before detonating in a violent explosion.

"Alright, Direhounds, we’re pushing through!" Anya shouted. "Let’s clear a path!"

Inside the cockpit of Soldraknirr, Lyrius sat in silence, listening to the warning beeps as a massive object appeared on his radar. He adjusted his sensors, moving closer until The Steadfast loomed in his view. He let out a slow chuckle."Oh? So the local lord finally bares his fangs?" he mused.

He had heard stories of the second heir of House Fenralis—the one assigned to the Verdant Vale. A man who could not use magic, yet still, he may be a competent commander. Lyrius narrowed his eyes, keeping his distance, observing as his minions below engaged the mechs that had just deployed from the ship.

"Never underestimate the ferocity of a cornered foe, for it is in the darkness of desperation that men discover the genius of rebellion."

A lesson drilled into him by his uncle, Duke Dragan. He kept his distance and observed as his forces threw themselves at his enemies, testing their mettle before he made his move.

Above the battlefield, Lyra stood on the deck of The Steadfast, her robes billowing as she unleashed torrents of rainfire and frost upon the enemy below. Swathes of Emberclad rebels and their mechs burned or froze where they stood, their formations crumbling under her relentless barrage.

The retaliation was swift. Several Drakeguard mechs broke away from the battle below, ascending rapidly toward The Steadfast, their dragon-forged maws glowing with destructive energy. Elemental blasts streaked toward the deck, but before they could reach their target, shimmering barriers flared to life—Leona, standing resolute, her blade drawn, shielding Lyra from harm. The luminite cannons of The Steadfast roared in defiance, vaporizing the assailants one by one.

The assault continued for several minutes, the air thick with smoke and magic until finally, Lyra collapsed to her knees, drained.

"Lyra!" Leona and Nyx called out in unison.

"Don't worry, I'll be fine," Lyra assured them, breathless. Nyx padded up to her, licking her face while she stroked the soft wing-ears in response, offering the familiar a weak smile.

Leona quickly reached into her knapsack, pulling out a small vial. "Here. Fenralis stamina potion—watered-down version of our usual supply. Still stronger than the store-bought alchemist trash, but you should be able to handle it without our training."

Lyra took the vial and downed it in one gulp. A shiver ran through her as renewed energy flooded her limbs. "You must've been thinking about me when you made this. Thank you, that's so thoughtful of you!"

Leona stiffened, ears turning red as she averted her gaze. "Y-you're our firepower, after all!" she stammered.

Nyx smirked, tail flicking. "Aw, is the mighty Leona flustered? Should I get you a potion for that too?"

Leona scowled, blocking another incoming blast with a swift raise of her shield. "Nyx, I swear to the God-emperor—"

Lyra giggled as she rose to her feet, strength returning. With a glance at the battlefield below, she raised her hands once more, calling forth another storm of destruction to clear the path for their forces.

Lyrius' gaze then flicked toward the deck of The Steadfast—toward the lone battlemage unleashing devastation from above. He sneered.

"What's this? Casting spells on deck? Are we back in the Nyx'thuul Scourge?"

He saw the vulnerability, the weak point in their strategy, and he was determined to exploit it.

With a silent command, Soldraknirr flared its golden wings and surged forward, the air rippling with power. The bridge of The Steadfast was now within reach, the dragon-mech’s massive face staring down at the command crew inside. It flapped its wings backward, maintaining its altitude, and then—

Its maw opened.

A blinding torrent of Starfire erupted forth, streaking toward the deck in a cascade of celestial destruction. Lyra, Leona, and Nyx stood at the epicenter of the attack, the searing inferno descending upon them.