Before the fleet lay Kraterok, the only settlement in the Serpentine Isles large enough to be called a city. By most standards, it wasn’t too impressive, being inhabited, at least according to the Bull Kingdom’s records, by a scant fifty-thousand people, the limit of what the area’s farms and fishing trawlers could support.

But, as Leon stood on the deck of Sigebert’s flagship staring at the long, thin city filled with brightly colored buildings that stretched across the rocky cliffs along the long, curving beach; the sparkling white sand at the foot of those cliffs; the startlingly green jungle framing it; the clear blue skies; and even clearer blue waters, he couldn’t help but marvel at its proud majesty.

The city was raised off the beach, for the most part, having been built on the cliffs with only a few narrow stairways leading up and down from the beaches and the port. The port itself was quite large, though, stretching for almost two-thirds the length of the city in a wide crescent shape. This half-moon was almost made into a full moon with a long rocky sea wall that jutted out of the depths like the hand of an earth deity protecting the city and its harbor from the harsh weather of the Endless Ocean. At the center of that sea wall, where it was thickest, was a clearly built-by-earth-mages semicircular outcropping, upon which had been built three enormous statues. The curved wall below those statues that jutted out to sea was perfectly smooth, lacking even seams.

For as large as the bay was, it wasn’t nearly big enough to accommodate three Bull Kingdom ships trying to enter. They only had two narrow entrances to choose from, at both places where the crescent of the port almost met the sea wall. Unfortunately, both of these locations had large towers erected on both sides with grooves on the sides facing each other that Leon guessed was there to allow a chain to be raised, which would block the port from intrusion.

Kraterok was surprisingly beautiful, and surprisingly well-defended, at least as far as Leon could see. If this was all they had, it wouldn’t stand up to the Legion for even a matter of hours, but it was still surprising, nonetheless. Sigebert, who was standing right next to him, seemed focused on something else entirely.

“That city looks completely trashed,” he whispered. “Something definitely happened here. That sea wall’s been raised, I’d say, and there certainly weren’t towers defending the entrances to the port. We would’ve been briefed on them if they had been.”

“So, the Islanders have been fortifying themselves?” Leon asked.

“I would say they have been,” Sigebert replied. “That ‘Jormun’ guy that the Penitent Paladin warned us about sailed in this direction. If he’s as dangerous as Penitent says, then I’d say it’s possible he could’ve seized the city. Look around, you’ll see signs of battle. The Earl’s palace further up even looks like it’s been burned down…”

Leon did as Sigebert suggested, his magic senses sweeping across the surface of the water to examine the city from their ten-mile vantage point, and the closer picture he got of the city was a far cry from the one that its profile suggested.

The streets were essentially deserted, many of the candy-colored wood buildings looked like they’d been burned or knocked down, and as Sigebert observed, sitting on a cliff high above the city were the burned remains of what had clearly been a large and opulent mansion.

Furthermore, with most of the buildings lacking any enchantments to stop him from seeing within with his magic senses, Leon could estimate that only about half of the city was inhabited. Even accounting for the fact that the city looked like it had suffered a mild sacking, Leon wouldn’t have thought there would be so few people around.

Sigebert sighed next to him.

“We’ll find out what’s going on. Get ready, we’ll be doing a quick pass by a mile or two out from the city to give them a good scare, and then we’ll land a few miles to the south. The rest of the fleets will get close enough to hit that sea wall with artillery if they have to, but they won’t engage until we’re in a better position to begin our assault, or until some hostiles reveal themselves.”

“Got it,” Leon replied, though he’d spent the better part of the past two days making sure he and the rest of his squad were prepped and ready for a fight. They were all on deck not too far away, watching the city slowly crawl closer and closer. Even Maia and Anzu were topside, waiting and ready.

But Leon was fairly relaxed. The amount of power on their side was absolutely overwhelming. Even with three seventh-tier mages on the other side, they had twelve Flame Lances and tens of thousands of fighting men and women. He couldn’t believe that a few hastily-constructed defenses were going to be able to put up a meaningful defense.

He joined the rest of his squad, and a few minutes later, Gaius did as well. Sigebert’s fleet then began to turn toward Kraterok, speeding toward it at decent clip. The smaller ships went first, covering as much of the sea as they could, with the larger war galley escorts flanking Sigebert’s marine transports and pair of dreadnoughts. Sigebert’s flagship was near the front of their roughly wing-shaped formation, cutting through the waves as its magic engines pushed it toward the city.

“I thought we were going around to land in the south?” Alix said as the fleet pushed directly for the city.

“We are,” Gaius replied. “But there’s not a lot of places to hide at sea—whoever is defending that city has seen us coming for days and has had more than enough time to prepare a warm welcome, so we’re going to make a quick pass some distance off the coast of that sea wall. Probably land a few marines on that sea wall, too. We need to seize those towers to control the port.”

“So, what, this is a parade?” Alix asked.

“Something like that,” Gaius said. “We’re going to give them a good look at just who’s come calling. We have more than enough force to take that city, and if their Ancestors taught them well, those Islanders will surrender without a fight.”

“If,” Leon whispered, a frown gracing his face as he leaned up against the Heartwood railing. He could sense the magic powering the ship, the hundreds of sailors keeping it floating, and the hundreds more marines who would defend the ship if the need arose. His glance briefly scanned the closer of the ship’s two Flame Lances. It was kind of ugly to his eyes, being a large hollow cylinder raised on a rotating platform, but he could appreciate the sheer ingenuity it represented. It could be raised and lowered to fire at just about any needed angle, and the enchantments upon it were tightly and expertly woven so that if it needed to fire its payload of molten stone, the cylinder would be left perfectly intact.

‘I’ll have to ask Nestor about these things later…’ Leon thought to himself. He’d seen the destructive power of these weapons during the war with the Talfar Kingdom—even if they’d failed to kill the seventh-tier vampire that had fought on Talfar’s side—and while the weapons themselves were ugly, he held great respect for their power.

Over the next hour or so, Sigebert’s fleet gradually pulled within range of the sea wall. The Flame Lances had an effective range of up to two miles before the molten stone they fired cooled and broke apart into not-so-dangerous flying pebbles, so it was only when the dreadnoughts pulled within that range that the fleet began to turn southward. If anything happened, Sigebert’s dreadnoughts, and those of Basina and Theuderic’s fleets following closely behind them, could bombard the sea wall into oblivion.

Suddenly, Leon sensed an alarming spike in magic power coming from the sea wall, drawing his attention and causing him to instinctively summon his armor from his soul realm. Fortunately, the rest of his squad were already decked out in their gear, because he saw the smooth wall below the statue platform slide open like bay doors, revealing a large chamber just below the statues, within which were a pair of Flame Lances.

They were already aiming straight at Sigebert’s flagship, and judging by the aura Leon sensed, also prepared to fire.

“GET DOWN!” he shouted, unable to get out any more words before the Flame Lances flashed with magic power and a pair of glowing orange-hot projectiles sliced through the air toward the flagship.

With the dissonantly quiet impact sound of molten stone, each hit the ship’s Heartwood hull with enough force to tear right through it. Wood was set ablaze, dozens were instantly killed, and one of Sigebert’s own Flame Lances was ripped free of its anchors to the deck and partially slagged by one of the shots.

Leon saw little of this, for the other shot practically exploded against the hull barely more than twenty feet from him. He was the only one of his squad that had been leaning on the railing, fortunately, but they were all thrown across the deck like ragdolls, while Leon himself was thrown backward with such force that he sailed clear across the deck and crashed into the opposite railing. But that didn’t stop him; instead, Leon went right over the railing and spun ass over teakettle at least a dozen times before he hit the waves.

From the suddenness of the attack, the immediate white-hot pain, and the disorientation of being thrown around and landing face-first in freezing ocean water, Leon practically blacked out for a second or two. He came to underwater, the weight of his armor and body causing him to sink down deeper as Sigebert’s flagship cut through the water above him, soon to leave him behind if he didn’t somehow get back aboard.

He felt more than heard the answer of Sigebert’s remaining Flame Lance and the sudden rise in volume as sailors and ships across the fleets raised their alarms, but as he took stock of his surroundings, he realized he wouldn’t be able to easily climb back aboard the flagship.

This area of the sea was relatively shallow, with the sandy sea floor being close enough to the surface to be lit by the sun. Down there, Leon saw the wrecks of countless ships littering the sea floor, at least half of which he recognized as being Legion ships from the Bull Kingdom—nearly all appearing to be freshly and violently sunk.

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Emerging from these many hundreds of broken hulks were thousands of men and women, all armed, and all at least second-tier or stronger. Leon could feel their killing intent, though it was muted by the water, and he knew without a shadow of a doubt that these people weren’t friendly.

His thoughts were confirmed when a nearby fifth-tier Islander about fifty feet blow Leon hurled a harpoon at him. The man moved with such speed and strength through all of that water that he could be nothing but a water mage, and the harpoon cut through the water toward Leon as fast as an arrow loosed from bow.

The harpoon, fortunately, wasn’t particularly well-enchanted, if it was at all, and glanced right off Leon’s cuirass, but it packed enough punch to knock a little bit air out of his lungs, of which Leon hadn’t any to spare. He was a seventh-tier mage and so could hold his breath under water for hours if need be, but that presumed a full breath before submersion. Leon hadn’t the chance to prepare himself, and so in shock had hit the water and lost nearly all of his air.

But now, his shock had worn off, and as the harpoon scraped against his armor, Leon sprang into action, and in that action, he felt a momentary burst of elation as the silver lining of the situation crossed his mind—he now had the opportunity to test his new enchantments, though hardly in ideal circumstances.

With a burst of power that immediately drained his small magic battery attached to the inside of his cuirass, runes on the inside of his helmet flared with a dull gray light, and all the water was forced out of it as a pocket of air replaced it. A few runes on the inside of his cuirass activated at the same time, and the water pressure on him was immediately reduced while his strength was augmented. Finally, as magic power entered the enchantments upon his boots, the water around them froze into a crude pair of large flippers—the best he could do without greater understanding of water magic to help propel him in the same way his flight suit did with wind magic.

Leon eagerly filled his lungs with his helmet’s air and summoned his family’s blade. With one smooth motion, he called upon the Thunderbird’s lightning, and silver-blue flashed across his blade and armor. He was slightly dismayed to see much of his power dissipate and radiate out into the surrounding ocean, but he put it out of his mind; he was still strong enough to fight.

With a kick of his feet, Leon’s propelled himself straight down faster than the water mage could react. The man was in the midst of raising his hand to do something magical when Leon’s sword was thrust deep enough into his chest to impale his heart, killing him instantly.

[Maia!] Leon roared into his mind as dozens more Islanders all around him began to point their harpoons in his direction. [Enemies below the waves!]

He didn’t have much time to elaborate, for a moment later at least half a dozen harpoons were thrown in his direction from a group of powerful fourth and fifth-tier Islanders.

The water seemed to let them pass without resistance, and Leon was forced to use the water mage’s corpse to give himself some cover. His armor had protected him from one harpoon, but he wasn’t going to take his chances. Five of the harpoons lodged themselves in the dead Islander, while the sixth missed completely, flying straight off into the deep.

Leon summoned his magic power again, and, controlling himself as much as he could to prevent himself from roaring in anger, he slashed with his blade, sending a wave of lightning at his enemies. His magic power bled off into the surrounding ocean, greatly enlarging his attack, but also weakening it at the same time. What normally would’ve killed or seriously injured the group of Islanders that had attacked him instead only killed two and left the rest only mildly injured, but still in fighting condition.

Upon the backs of every Islander were bundles of additional harpoons, and as Leon spread out his magic senses—a much harder thing to do underwater than above, limiting his range to a fraction of what it was normally—he watched as the dozens of Islanders that surrounded him hurled more harpoons at him.

He kicked with all he was worth, pushing himself further down toward the sea floor and the countless wrecked ships that might give him some cover. He could see that a handful of those who had surrounded him seemingly decide to ignore him in favor of continuing to swim upward to harass the ships, or so Leon assumed, but at least a dozen of the more powerful mages did not follow suit.

They instead pursued him, with four proving themselves water mages, as well, as harpoons of ice started flying around Leon and the water around him started to churn and constrict around his armor. His heartrate skyrocketed as he began to experience the dangers of being stuck underwater with water mages.

First, before Leon even managed to reach the sunken ships, he felt the enchantment alleviating the water pressure start to fail as what seemed to be a massive hand of dense water enclosed around him. A moment later, as his speed began to fail under this pressure, Leon felt a pair of water blades slice into his armor, scratching it but not doing much damage. A few more icy harpoons glanced off his armor, as well.

Leon’s heart was starting to panic, his eyes darted from hither to thither in search of good cover where he could get a hold of himself. He was in the water, completely out of his element, and submerged in that of his enemy’s. He couldn’t help but panic as water clamped down around his helmet, searching for any way in, the enchantments Leon had placed upon it having more than a little bit of trouble keeping all of that water out and his head secure. As lightning magic surged through his system, heightening his senses and speeding up his thoughts, however, he started to force himself to calm down.

These were four fifth-tier mages, and maybe a dozen fourth-tier supporting them getting ready to throw more harpoons. If they were on land, Leon wouldn’t have ever considered this group to be all that threatening in such a straight-up fight. But he was underwater, fighting in a way that he was unfamiliar with, and with that uncertainty came fear.

But he was still a seventh-tier mage.

‘I’m better than this!’ Leon roared into his mind as he slowed and turned back to face his enemies, now a few dozen feet away and about twenty feet above him. ‘I will not run from these people!’

One of the water mages was still trying to grasp him with his water magic, with Leon’s enchantments barely keeping him at bay. The other three were preparing more attacks, and Leon could tell that they would be coming in only a second or two. That was how long he had to act.

And act he did. With a bellow that sent a cloud of bubbles rising to the surface, Leon let loose with his silver-blue lightning, letting it explode out of him instead of concentrating it into a specific attack like a lightning bolt.

As he expected, his lightning immediately surged through the water, reaching up toward the less dense water—and Leon’s attackers—with barely even a need for Leon to direct it.

Arcs of silver-blue lightning flashed between Leon and the Islanders as his power connected them, vaporizing water, and causing strange-looking bubbly explosions all around Leon. Superheated water roiled away from him, reaching even those who hadn’t been hit by his lightning.

Of Leon’s attackers, all but two reacted with silent screams of pain and terrible convulsions as lightning tore through them. Few of them were armored, and none of those that were had enchanted armor, so they had next to no defenses against him. Half of the fourth-tier mages had their bodies torn apart in red clouds, most of those remaining were horrifically scalded by the superheated water. The four fifth-tier mages joined their fellows in screaming in pain as Leon’s lightning ripped through what little leather and cloth armor they had, painting their bodies with black and red burns in fractal lightning patterns.

A moment later, those who survived Leon’s strike practically vanished as a water dragon took shape just above them and swallowed them all in an instant.

Leon reeled back in primal, instinctive panic, only to immediately relax as he realized what had just happened. He used his helmet to take another breath as he felt the arms of Maia coalesce around him from behind. A smile bloomed on his face as he turned his head to see the familiar bronze face of his river nymph lover grinning back at him.

[Good timing,] he said Maia.

[Could’ve been better,] she replied. Her tone then turned deadly serious. [What now?]

[I need to get back up there,] Leon said, indicating Sigebert’s flagship. [Can I ask you to stay down here and clean up this trash?]

[You can ask me for anything,] Maia replied as she kissed the side of his helmet. A moment later, Leon found himself carried out of the sea and back to Sigebert’s flagship on the back of one of Maia’s water dragons, which immediately dissolved as he leaped down onto the deck.

What awaited him was a strange mix of utter chaos and deadly precision. His magic senses pulsed as he took everything in: it looked like the enemy Flame Lances had sunk a pair of smaller war galleys, but when Sigebert’s three undamaged Lances answered, the ‘doors’ of the sea wall snapped shut, keeping their Lances safe. What was a little more concerning, those few thousand Islanders from beneath the surface had already leaped out of the water and started boarding the Legion ships, and on dozens of ships throughout Sigebert’s fleet, marines were fighting for their lives as sailors did their best to keep the ships moving through the sudden chaos.

On the deck of Sigebert’s flagship, Leon found relatively few Islanders fighting. He guessed that some of those who were supposed to board it had been dealt with by him and Maia, leaving the rest short-handed. Leon’s squad and the ship’s complement of marines were dealing with those that had passed him by to board the ship, and were doing quite well for themselves; just as Leon’s feet touched the deck, Marcus was drawing his blade out of the chest of a dying Islander, while Alix held another down for Alcander to behead with his massive ax. Gaius, meanwhile, was still locked in a fight with a third, but seemed to be getting the edge, while Anzu was already covered in the blood of at least three Islanders that he’d ripped to shreds.

“Leon!” Marcus called out. “Good to see you, but I think we’re good here!”

Leon, based on what he could see, agreed, and without a word, turned his attention back to the water. Islanders were still swimming to the surface, though he could see quite a few clouds of blood down there where Maia was doing work. Still, there were a lot of Islanders, so Leon conjured a few lightning bolts and painted the surface of the Endless Ocean around Sigebert’s flagship silver-blue. Those unfortunate Islanders who hadn’t managed to board a ship were rapidly losing the opportunity.

“Leon!” Gaius shouted as he finished off his opponent. Leon turned to see what was going on, and he saw Gaius pointing to the central tower of the flagship, where a fifth-tier Tribune was making a series of hand signals. “Sir Sigebert is ordering the fleet to pull out of range of those Islander Lances!”

Leon nodded, understanding the decision. If they couldn’t deal with those Flame Lances, then they needed to get out of their range. Unfortunately, a fleet of hundreds of ships don’t turn so quickly, so a moment later, when the bay doors of the sea wall snapped open again just long enough for the Islander Flame Lances to fire another salvo, the fleet had barely even started turning. Sigebert’s Flame Lances answered again, but the doors were too quick, closing just before the Legion volley could land.

And two more Legion ships went down, this time two of the large galleys escorting the marine transports.

‘At least the boarders are being dealt with…’ Leon thought to himself, grateful that at least some of the Islanders’ sudden assault was being handled. But then, from the front of Sigebert’s fleet, he heard more warning horns, and when he turned his attention in that direction, he saw a sight that filled him with equal parts excitement and anxiety.

Down the coast, where the beach thinned until the sea touched the island cliffs, perhaps four or five miles away, what seemed like an endless stream of small pirate ships were being disgorged by an otherwise easily-missed seaside cave. Even worse, Leon could see dozens more ships in the port of Kraterok sliding out of dock, their decks filled with armed men and women, none of whom Leon believed were friendly.