Fires burned in the mountains from a dozen wrecked Ocean arks. Rain battered the slopes, the wind howled through the peaks, and survivors from the downed arks moaned and cried out in pain from where they fell. Elements of Leon’s central army were already deployed to take these survivors prisoner, though they had to move under their own power since so many of his arks had been shot down or heavily damaged.
Still, as the sky above his summoned storm darkened, the mountains around the Artor Valley grew relatively quiet. The Ocean arks had managed to withdraw from the veil, though no small part of that was due to the veil itself turning them around and pointing them out with greater insistence the more they tried to press inward. They had taken heavy casualties, and though Leon’s people had also taken some casualties in the veil, the Ocean forces took disproportionately more.
All in all, at least half, if not more, of the force Leon had that morning made it to the evening, and that fact weighed heavily on his mind. He didn’t let it show, however, and remained as focused as he could be on the problem at hand.
As the battle slowed and eventually petered out, orders were given that shifted his people’s work from fighting to cleaning up. Thankfully, the fires were controlled fairly quickly with the rain Leon summoned and the dampness of the misty veil. Some six hundred and thirteen Ocean warriors were taken prisoner, with Leon’s engineers moving quickly to construct some simple prison barracks for them to be held in. Finally, some small groups of Leon’s fastest-moving warriors were sent out to scour the wrecks of their arks closer to the veil for survivors and to get them back to the valley.
Unfortunately, there were few survivors to find, as most of Leon’s people either bailed out of their arks or MALLs quickly and managed to escape under their own power, or the destruction of their vehicles was so complete that few survived the crash. Leon thought specifically of the carrier and heavy cruiser that had covered his retreat—each had exploded spectacularly, leaving little room for their crews to survive.
On top of that, the Ocean warriors were already being deployed to swarm over the wrecks of shot-down arks, though, for the moment, they were focusing on their own. The Ocean arks, meanwhile, were spreading out across the plain to the east, covering as much ground as their numbers would allow.
On the beach, Leon could see the enemy getting comfortable, setting up camps and lavish pavilions. Further to the east up the chalky cliffs, he could also see a more concerted effort in setting up infrastructure upon the Titanstone vein his people had found.
Not for the first time, his heart beat with furious indignation. It was but a spark compared to the rage he felt for the death of his people, but it was felt, nonetheless.
From where he stood upon the roof of the southern Talon, he sighed in an attempt to let the anger bleed away. For the moment, there was nothing he could do about the Ocean King’s forces exploiting that deposit of Titanstone, so there wasn’t much use in getting angry about it.
Anastasios and Eva returned while he monitored the clean-up operation. Each had been instrumental in the downing of an Ocean heavy cruiser, marking some of the largest kills his side had managed to inflict upon their all-too-moist enemy. Small comfort when Leon’s expedition was, if it was lucky, numbered barely more than half of what it had started with in the Void above Aeterna.
“Looks like they’re settling in for a siege,” Eva said as she landed next to him.
Leon hummed in agreement.
“You should get ready, Leon,” Anastasios added, drawing Leon’s eyes and more focused attention. “No one wants a siege. They take far too long and often cost too many lives. Since the enemy was unable to force us out in one initial battle, there may be a request for parley. They’ll try threats and negotiation to achieve their aims here.”
“So soon?” he asked. “I would think their pride might get in the way. ‘Terris’ certainly didn’t seem the sort to stoop to such a level…”
“Requesting a parley doesn’t necessarily mean they’re serious about negotiation,” Anastasios reminded him. “It may be a delaying tactic, or they might try to lower our guard by making us think they’re willing to negotiate, only to launch a surprise attack.”
“They’re going to try and breach this shroud,” Eva added with a wave at the mist that towered over them. “It took our Empires many millennia to figure out how to penetrate the one protecting the Sk—Kataigida. And even then, it wasn’t the most reliable method. Here in the Nexus, though… I wouldn’t be surprised if we measure how long it takes for this shroud to be breached in months, or even weeks.”
“Turtling behind it will be a failing strategy…” Leon murmured, the thought having already occurred to him. For much the same reason why he had ordered the Ocean King’s forces be contested beyond the veil, he’d already been thinking about how to strike out at their enemy without risking their remaining forces unduly. For the moment, his ideas were broad and strategic rather than specific and tactical. Though he hated it, he would have to wait for Terris to make the next move.
To the two older mages, he stated, “Let’s head inside. Get to planning.”
The two nodded, and with Leon, ventured back into the southern Talon.
---
With Maia, Valeria, Cassandra, and Anzu at his side, Leon met with Anastasios, Eva, the Jaguar, Marcus, Alcander, Alix, and all of the high-ranking officers and Tribal elders remaining on his side. Gaius and a host of secretaries were present, too, as were Mari and Nestor. Clear Day was absent, the tau preferring to see to the wounded rather than sit in on military strategy meetings.
The meeting started with grim silence, the absence of many who would’ve attended this meeting only a day ago hard to ignore. The elders Split-Knuckle of the Lion Tribe, Tachys of the Eagles, and Marinos of the Tigers had been killed in battle. Eyes-of-Glass, the Bear elder, was missing, as was Lycurgus, the Jaguar elder, though Leon already presumed them to be dead. Many captains and high officers were gone, too, never to return.
Many war beasts had fallen as well, leaving the Bear Tribe with few war beasts left. Red, Nidar, and Astar were still having their injuries tended to, as were more than a thousand warriors. Many giants had been killed, too, leaving only a handful of giants in combat forms remaining, those left being in surviving Ulta suits, in labor forms, or serving as more intelligent and flexible wisps.
The only good thing that Leon saw was that his ancient arks were still intact, their powerful weapons and defenses seeing them through this first clash with nary a scratch upon their hulls. A single destroyer and heavy cruiser, no matter how powerful, wasn’t going to see them through this battle, however.
Aside from those ancient arks, Leon’s fleet amounted to a single heavy cruiser and carrier, both damaged. A carrier, a heavy cruiser, two destroyers, and three frigates made it back to the valley, but the damage they sustained in the fighting meant months of repairs would be needed to make them combat effective again. Finally, the two missing frigates that the Jaguar told him of were confirmed crashed in the mountains. Fortunately, most of their crews managed to survive and escape into the valley, and if Leon was lucky, those frigates might be salvaged.
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If, of course, he managed to fight the enemy off. The prospect of doing so after having effectively lost nearly his entire fleet was bleak, though, for while his side had inflicted disproportionate losses, the Ocean Lords retained seventeen frigates, nine destroyers, nine light cruisers, six heavy cruisers, and four carriers. They also kept their leading palatial ark, their powerful war beasts, and much of their army.
Leon had attempted to strike at their army from behind the veil several times, but each time, his lightning curved away from the Ocean camp as if it had been repelled by some unseen force. He supposed he could strike at the arks, but the damage he could do by himself would be minimal without ensuring the larger arks couldn’t aid the smaller, more vulnerable arks.
All of this information was presented to those in the meeting, and the atmosphere only grew bleaker than it already was. Silence fell for what seemed to be an eternity until Nestor spoke up.
“Our new Lances performed above expectations.”
A simple statement, but Leon was grateful for any good news.
“How far above?” Leon asked.
“Three good hits will kill one of their frigates,” Nestor said in a neutral tone. “Eight shots from the previous design would be required for the same effect.”
“And that’s not it!” Mari added, her cheerfulness lessened, but not completely erased. “From what I’ve seen of our damaged arks, the fish outside are operatin’ with weaker weapons! About on par with the previous Lances, so the new ones are stronger than what they got!”
“Good to know,” Leon said in thought. “Hard to put this information into practice, though; we don’t have many platforms left that can use them, and if the valley is put to siege, we’re not going to receive the Aurichalcum we need to make more anytime soon.”
“Some of the new Lances can be pulled from our damaged arks,” Evar, the Raven elder, suggested. “Perhaps new MALLs? Or some other kind of solution? At the least, we can replace some of the older Lances on the wall.”
“Begin salvaging those Lances,” Leon ordered without hesitation. “Don’t do anything with them yet, though… I have the beginnings of a plan that they may prove useful for…”
He cast his gaze around the room, noting that despite how grim their circumstances were, his mention of a plan had everyone looking at him with something that resembled hope. He quietly hoped that he could actually live up to that hope.
“In order to fully put us under siege and cut us off from any potential allies, like Alhamachim or Shatufan,” Leon began once he ascertained that he had everyone’s attention, “they’ll have to surround the entire vale. That means even the land to the north and west, where the mountains prevent ground support for their arks. They took casualties too, so their numbers may force them to prioritize certain zones rather than completely surrounding us…”
“Aye,” the Jaguar said as he leaned forward and summoned a map of their surroundings. “If I were in charge of this siege, I would focus most of my forces on the south, to both pen us in and to secure the supply lines back to the Ocean. My next priority would be the northern pass, with comparatively thinner patrols to the east and west.”
“It’s those eastern and western patrols that I plan to harass,” Leon stated. “We can get Lances set up in certain firing positions quickly, take our shots, and then vanish back beyond our veil, we might be able to whittle the enemy down enough to force them to retreat. Keep up hit-and-run attacks that’ll prevent our foe from—”
A loud knock at the door interrupted Leon as he was explaining his plan, and every eye in the room swiveled to the door in question. With a sigh, Leon paused his explanation and ordered the door open. No one would interrupt this meeting unless it was important, after all.
When the door opened, Lana walked in, a look of deadly seriousness on her face.
“A lone Ocean mage is approaching the mountains,” she stated, and Leon immediately projected his magic senses to see what she was talking about.
Indeed, a single tenth-tier mage, flying slowly through the air, was approaching the edge of the misty veil close to the southern Talon. Raised above his head was a sheathed sword, three nails through the sheathe drawing Leon’s eye. It seemed the nails were there to prevent the sword from being drawn, though he doubted the sword would be all that deadly anyway, for instead of a pointed tip, the sword boasted a blunt, rounded tip.
“A messenger…?” he wondered aloud. If he had to guess, the sword was a symbol of peace, though given his unfamiliarity with the Nexus and its customs, it could’ve meant anything. Rising from his seat, he said, “Let’s go see what he wants.”
---
At the edge of the misty veil, Leon waited. He was correct, the mage with the sheathed sword was a messenger. The message once delivered was simple, and it proved Anastasios right: the leader of the Ocean mages wanted to talk.
After some deliberation, Leon accepted, and after several hours of back-and-forth, it was decided that each of the leaders would meet alone, though they could approach the meeting with four others.
Thus, at Leon’s side were Anastasios, Eva, Red, and Anzu. Behind him, obscured by the shadows of the storm clouds Leon kept overhead and the thick misty veil, Bolt in Shadow and Silver Spear hovered, just in case.
In the distance, he could see the palace ark begin an approach, but halt about five miles to the south—close enough to fire its Lances, but far enough away that Leon and his people would have ample time to dodge out of the way and disappear back into the veil.
From what looked like the main ramp into the ark stepped five mages. Leon recognized them all as the four eleventh-tier mages and the twelfth-tier Terris. Despite Anastasios and Eva having beaten their opponents, it seemed their injuries had been rapidly healed, as had those of the mages Leon had contended with.
Leon hovered in the air, his armor on. Terris, on the other hand, appeared wearing little more than a pair of short pants and sandals, leaving his well-built torso on display. A fitting grin played at his lips, an arrogant expression to match his attire.
Terris began flying forward, leaving the other four eleventh-tier mages behind. Leon did the same, meeting Terris between their respective groups. They hovered about thirty feet apart, Terris looking completely at ease, while behind his helmet, Leon regarded the man with deep uncertainty.
Terris spoke first. “I offer you a chance to surrender! If you are smart, you’ll take it! I’ll allow you to leave this place with your life intact, with those who remain loyal to you unharmed! There is no need to continue resistance! Your abilities are to be commended, and it would be no dishonor to leave now! Save your people and leave this land!”
Leon glanced around at his surroundings. The mountains, forests, rivers, and plains rolled out before him. It was a beautiful land, even including the sea to the south and west, despite the doom it brought to him and his city. This beauty, at least in his eyes, was enhanced by the dark clouds of his summoned storm, and the rain, wind, and lightning that filled the region.
“I rather like it here,” he glibly replied. “I think I’ll stay.”
Terris laughed. “Do you know what those who possess too much pride are called, boy? Dead. You gain nothing by clinging to a failed cause, but you gain everything by abandoning this place! It is your duty to see reason, to see that you are outmatched! The Storm Lands are vast, with land aplenty! Just leave and find somewhere else!”
Leon quietly scoffed. “Your offer is generous! Allow me to show similar generosity! Abandon this campaign and return to the sea! You are unwanted in the Storm Lands! Leave, and I will not pursue you! Leave, and I will hold no grudge against you for your actions today!”
Terris laughed again. “Terms are to be dictated by the strong to the weak, boy! Not the other way around! It is not for the newcomer to command the old hand! And certainly not for an Ascended Beast to command a man!”
Terris raised his arms and let his aura spill forth, overpowering all it came in contact with.
“This is what you contend with, monster!” he shouted as even Leon’s clouds started to be pushed back, though Leon quickly reasserted himself over the sky, even if it cost him far more power to do so than he would’ve liked. “Victory for you is impossible! My domain is crashing waves and splitting seas! It is the rumble of arks in the deep and the call of abyssal leviathans! My people are swords and spears, and the breakers of land and stone! No victory shall you find over us, and when you break, like the cliffs by the patient sea, nothing will remain of you!
“Make peace with your decision, beast, for when your shield fails you and the sea rushes in, you will be swept up and lost beneath the waves! Resist as your honor compels you, or save yourself and your people from their inevitable doom! Either way, it matters not, for you cannot hold back the sea, and in the end, this land will be returned to the state demanded by the mighty Ocean King!”
Without another word, Terris turned and leisurely flew back to his ark. Leon remained silent, contemplating striking the man in the back, but that thought didn’t make it far before he stomped it out. He wouldn’t attack someone during peace talks, whether or not he was confident he could beat them—and he certainly wasn’t confident with Terris.
Instead, he reinforced his raging storm above, and then began flying back to his waiting group. Perhaps there would be more negotiations, perhaps not. Either way, it seemed that for the foreseeable future, despite the losses both sides had sustained, the fighting would continue.