Engines rumbled through the floors beneath me, and I salivated at the sound. Dark rainclouds rushed against the hull as we cut through, water spraying against the screens, the turbulence vibrating us, and soon we broke through and into the light.

Before us, Lambston.

It was right here at the edge of the desert and a vast green land. The sandy cliffs of jagged mountains zig-zagged alongside us, the river ran beneath us, and the empire's farmlands spread out on our flank.

There in the city, the neighborhoods were unchanged. The buildings the same color. The grass as green as I had left it. Even from way up here, I could see the apartment complex that the rebels kept me in, and the stadium where Jenna's brother and father were killed, and off to the side, the Research Facility. On the far end of the city, the palace sat guarded by a magic field that shimmered in the sunlight.

If there were a world-slaying weapon here, it wasn't apparent.

We flew in at a brisk pace, but the city was still kilometers away. "Circle the city," I ordered. "Ready the main guns for bombardment."

"Admiral!" shouted one of the techs. "Enemy air squadrons are taking off at the Northern runway."

"So they wanted an air war already." I chuckled. "Sortie the jets."

I could see it unfold through the screen. Within the internal runways, jets idled patiently in rank and file. On the far end, a harsh red light flipped over to green. Those engines that rumbled beneath me shot out from the hull on either side, jets flaring alive with power and rage, and our pilots roared off to meet our enemy.

"Incoming anti-ship missiles!"

"Dispersing flares--" said our defense technician.

Lines of smoke shot out from the sides of the ship, and the enemy missiles turned to give chase.

They took the bait and missed completely, thumping with bright flames and shockwaves against the mountain ridge. Our massive flying battleship coasted past untouched.

"Our pilots have made contact," said a tech.

I brought up the battle on screen. It was hard to make out with all the dots buzzing around, but the Mana Jets had a distinctive trail of smoke compared to the enemy's F-16s.

I grit my teeth when I saw one of our jets get fired at by a missile, and I grinned when I saw it turn so sharply and so fast that, before I had a chance to realize it, the MJ-16 shredded the enemy jet with autocannon fire.

The ship rumbled. The air around us popped with explosions. Flak bombardment! The enemy had flak guns as well. While they weren't targeting the air battle--probably to avoid hitting their own invaluable planes--it seemed the entire city was wrapped in flak artillery that blinked at us like holiday lights. There wasn't even a point in evasive maneuvers. Not in a ship this big.

"Activate shields," I ordered.

A blue honeycomb wall of protection hummed around us.

"Admiral," said the flight technician. "Without float magic dispersal, we're losing altitude."

"Take us down," I said. "Balance the ship on its keel, and we'll use the mining lasers to help the engines."

"Confirmed," said the Card King. He pushed the helm forward, and the entire ship lurched into a dive--I felt my trash can innards rise into my chest with the descent--and the rumbling, flak-filled air rushed past us.

The rocket engines howled as they burned at maximum power, angling sharply to slow us down, stopping us on the desert--sand whipping into eddies--and the bottom of the ship groaned as it crunched into the sand.

The recycling lasers buzzed to life and dug in to feed upon the earth and give us much-needed resources.

And the ship rocked again. Hard explosions across our front.

"Redrim," shouted the Card King. "Tanks! Fucking big ones!"

I saw it onscreen. They had mass-produced those big raid boss tanks, and now their heavy cannons were blasting our frontal shields. The desert was filled with them, hundreds, backed up by even more artillery and anti-ship guns. It was a sea of weapons all pointed right at us.

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"Admiral! Matter gain from recycling isn't enough to keep up with the rocket engines."

The ship moaned and popped as it began to lose balance.

I winced.

We couldn't fly something this big without relying on the LMD to dispense haste and float magic, and if I stopped the shields, we'd just get blasted.

I laughed. I laughed hard. I laughed strong.

My ten manipulator arms shot out from me and latched into the ceiling and floors, linked with the pipes and the tubing, and began to drink. The cold, electric wetness of raw mana poured into my body, and I grinned my demon's grin.

> Heart of the Kraken activated x100

Fleshy tentacles shot out from the sides of the ship and flopped against the dry desert sand, squirming around to find footing. Kraken tentacles writhed and squirmed and reached out to slap into the sand to pull us forward--the battleship creaked and groaned and slid--and I walked this monstrous battleship forward beneath a barrage of tank fire, the world flashing with the lights and booms of explosions, the manashield shimmering, and my eyes widening further.

> Heart of the Masochist activated.

"Disable shields," I growled.

"S-sir?"

"Do it!"

> Shields disabled.

The ship erupted with explosions all across our bow, and being linked to this metal Kraken behemoth, I felt it all. I felt each shell slap against our hull, I felt each crack into the dragon scale-woven armor, I felt each burn of an explosion, and my dick rumbled to life. The bulge of my soul throbbed with hunger, and I felt it build, higher, harder, throbbing more, and soon--

> Heart of the Sadist activated.

"Fire."

All at once, our cannons and turrets and rockets erupted with the counterattack. The katyusha arrays now powered several times higher, each rocket slamming against across their numbers with world-shattering explosions. A single one ripping apart flak emplacements. Others demolishing tanks. The desert ahead flashed and roared with the drumroll barrage of our most powerful katyusha attack thus far, and I didn't need a status report. I felt this victory in my bones.

"Commander," the radio operator said to the Card King. "The rebel forces within the city have initiated their attack."

I looked across the desert and into the city. Even though we were mostly ground-level, the height of this massive, towering ship offered a strong view across the Lambston city skyline, and I could see flashes of gunfire in the streets. Plumes of black smoke rose up and out of neighborhoods, and police stations lit up in flame.

"Status on the air war," I said.

"Only seven more jets remain--no, four more jets--no... none. All enemy jets have been destroyed."

"And our losses?"

"Three, but the pilots ejected safely over the countryside."

"Have the jets search for hard targets in the surrounding area. Avoid friendly fire in the city."

"Yes, sir."

The desert ahead was scorched with burns and ruins, and beyond the city skyline, the spires of the palace stared back at me. Marianna was there, and soon I would face her again in battle, this time without being ambushed.

The world thumped and shook as my fleshy, meaty Kraken tentacles walked across the desert and up to the city. Civilians and soldiers and rebels alike stared up in horror at this walking battleship-octopus hybrid that had just crawled across the desert, and I stepped over them, over the houses and the buildings and across the streets and into the urban warfare of a city at war with itself.

The Card King whispered into his comms device and turned to me. "Redrim, we're sending out the assault team now. They'll reach the Research Facility soon."

"Do it," I said.

Ropes tossed over the hull and draped along the ground, and dozens of soldiers slid down and onto the streets. Among them, the hero party. I watched from above as they landed and were immediately challenged by an imperial mage squad. Spells were thrown back and forth, but the heroes shut down their enemies without issue. The other rebel soldiers reformed into their own party formations of healers and tanks and fighters, and as a small platoon, they hurried through the streets and alleys and toward the Research Center.

I looked back at the palace. We were getting close.

It was far down the main street, and we stomped over, the keel grinding through the streets beneath us, cutting through fruit stands and sidewalks, and--

"Admiral, left flank!"

There on our left, hidden within the city park, was a railgun emplacement, partially hidden by a couple of trees and a bush. I stared down the massive barrel of it, and it stared back.

It fired.

Sparks erupted at the manawall shield, and the projectile carved through, thumping into our hull and out the other side.

There was a pause.

And a trail of explosions ripped through the hull of the ship.

"Vil!" I yelled.

Vil turned the main guns--they hummed as they aimed--and he fired.

The cannons were overkill. Where there was once a small park and a railgun was now just a series of deep craters.

The threat was gone, but something felt off. "Damage report," I said.

"Fires in compartments C-7 to C-9. The damage is minimal, but we've lost LMD functionality."

The manawall shield began to blink out. Not only were we losing shields, but the mana pouring into me was dwindling. I couldn't keep the Kraken tentacles active without it.

I took in a deep breath. And I let it out.

"Perform docking procedures," I said. "Put us in that crater."

"Yes, sir," they told me.

I stood from my seat. Tubes and wiring hissed as they disconnected, and I stepped forward, my cape billowing behind me.

The technicians turned and saluted me.

"Well, then, Redrim," said the Card King. "It's that time already?"

"It is."

"Godspeed, and may the soul of the cards go with you."

I stepped into the elevator and winked back at him. "When I get back, we'll have the greatest of card tournaments."

His eyes widened like a puppy, and he blushed. "R-really?"

"Really."

The elevator doors slammed shut, and I shot down to the war staging room.

The doors dinged, shot open, and I found them here.

My squad stared back, armed and armored and with confident smiles.

Jenna. The Gimp King. Vil.

This was the Regicide Squad, and behind them, the Regicide army to bring us there--a mix of soldiers and rebels and pirates and gimps, all ready to finish this fight once and for all.