202. The Wings of Death
Atop the highest peak of Borealis Castle, a lone figure emerged beside the North Star Arcanite. The massive gemstone, the size of an Armatus’s torso, glowed with a dwindling intensity not seen in an age. There, the head of Borealis Castle rested her palm on the humming source of energy, its ocean-blue light painting her face. Her silver eyes swept across the horizon, ever vigilant.
Clad completely from head to toe, her sleek, dark armour emitted a visible barrier, causing the drizzle to halt in the still air rather than come in contact with her body.
“O, lord of the underworld below, let me be your messenger,” Aurora mumbled, summoning her blade. The long metal materialised in her extended hand. It was the greatest of artefacts, bestowed by the lord of death himself — Thanatos.
This was the embodiment of death itself in the form of a weapon.
The battle of ballistic missiles and beams rumbled deeply and menacingly like a looming thunderstorm. Its flashing lights and explosions mimicked the lightning bolts that blindly lit up the night.
The intense smell of burnt ozone, sulphuric acid, and metal filled the atmosphere; a byproduct of the propellants, vapourised metal, and anti-missile flares.
“Empress, this is General Matthew speaking.” The voice crackled from her Arc comm, the ring emitting a holographic image of a stern man with an imperial beard.
“General Matthew,” she began, studying the intricacy of her weapon and admiring its beauty. “You have done a great service in stalling the enemy,” she praised, her voice absolute.
“Not at all, Empress,” General Matthew replied hesitantly. “It appears they aren’t actually planning to engage the Dreadnought in full.” He scratched his beard.
The General had brought out his best, the Dreadnought battlecruiser, and was audibly disappointed by the enemy's restraint. Aurora watched him, baffled.
What exactly did the Knight Institute preach? They trained their soldiers to be fanatics who gloried in total war.
She found that indoctrinated battle-thirst deeply unsettling; that the General seemed to crave it was even wilder.
Observing the battlefield ahead, she noted fewer squadrons of Armatus were being deployed, making this feel more like a friendly skirmish than an actual siege.
“What makes you think so?” Aurora asked for his opinion.
“They have been releasing long-range weaponry in waves. I would have thought they would be prepared to engage in Armatus battles, yet that has not happened. I surmise there is no real eagerness in their strategy, Empress,” Matthew replied firmly.
“Perhaps trying to stall us for more reinforcement?” Aurora hypothesised softly, her gaze sweeping across the dark water that separated her island from the mainland of Britainia. There, another lustrous castle and its dense jungle of sparkling cities loomed past the edge of the cliff.
“There must be someone present there… I am certain of it,” Aurora told herself before she snapped her focus to the task at hand.
“No matter. General Matthew, step aside for now,” the Empress commanded, her voice exuding an air of total authority.
“But Empress, we can provide supp…”
“Save your resources, General. I shall handle this alone,” the Empress insisted, her expression uncompromising.
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“Roger that, Astral Empress!” General Matthew replied and saluted before the holographic image dispersed into light particles.
Taking a minute to herself, the Empress's mind entered a state of tranquillity.
“O' Hades, I apologise for crowding your underworld tonight,” Aurora spoke in reverence. “My resolve tends to be quite defined. Henceforth, Ventiff.”
Black feathers whirled around the top of the castle, floating down slowly to the multi-layered roofs. The dark wings of death spread behind Aurora’s back. Their gigantic size blocked the flashing light from the battlefield, spanning so wide they were visible from a great distance.
Symbolised as the harbinger of the underworld, a roar erupted from Ventiff, the legendary griffin.
Imposing and haunting, like a waking nightmare.
Empress Aurora rose high above the ground, settling onto its back. The griffin's wings moved, their gentle flaps sending a tempest into the air below.
Higher and higher, they soared above the clouds.
The rumbling on the battlefield ceased once the battlecruiser under General Matthew disengaged from the front line. The enemy’s battlecruiser turned its head toward her location.
“Ventiff, let’s go!” she commanded, running her hands over its hard feathers.
A massive whirlwind erupted and shook even the ground below; the black mass accelerated to the north with ever-increasing speed.
The sky itself seemed to scream, a guttural roar that was less a sound and more a final summons. It was a promise of oblivion that silenced every heart that still wished to beat.
Inside the Umbral’s dark green battlecruiser, murmurs filled the command centre with dread. The pale faces of the System Director and her operators were clear evidence of their fear. They were not the bravest Umbral soldiers, but a necessity for this operation.
Platinum Knight Pax issued his commands loudly, “Full reverse engagement.”
The floating vessel shifted gears, and its thrusters rotated in the opposite direction. The Arcanite engines strained, echoing with a deep hum. Eventually, the battlecruiser drifted in full reverse.
“Pointless,” Aurora grumbled with annoyance, holding her blade out to the side. A streak of purple flame dragged across the horizon.
A beam of light shot out from the main turret, arching toward the griffin.
Calmly, Aurora raised her palm and chanted, “Phoros!”
The beam collided with the spherical barrier and splintered outwards. The smoke cleared as the legendary beast emerged and shrieked in triumph, its eyes a demonic red.
The battlecruiser drifted sideways as dozens of hangar doors swung open. Lines upon lines of Armatus units lined up. Hundreds of war machines deployed, their propelling lights akin to dotted lines of light.
Immediately, another destructive beam flashed across the sky, hurled from her blind side. “Hmm?” Aurora exclaimed.
BZZZZZZZT-WHACK!
Ventiff shrieked in fury as smoke arose from its wing linings where the attack had struck. A trail of black feathers spun in the air.
“Another battlecruiser?” Aurora concluded, narrowing her eyes. She spotted the vessel in the distance, hiding behind thick clouds. She studied the intensity of the attack; despite its display of power, it was nothing but a scratch to her summon. “They are shooting from well beyond their effective range. Such a cowardly tactic,” she groaned in displeasure.
No honour in the face of death.
The first lines of Armatus mobile suits clashed with Aurora’s Ventiff. The flash of Thanatos's flames lit up the dark sky.
Ventiff twisted its body, crashing into a squadron of machines. Its wings created a cyclone, a tempest of explosions and smoke.
Vicious claws closed around the torso of an Armatus mobile suit. The squeeze was slow, inevitable; a crushing pressure that ended as microbombs detonated from within the grip, pulverising the machine. Immediately, the smoking talons opened once more, already hunting their next victim.
The battle raged on.
Aurora moved with majesty and precision, her blade never stopping its dance. Ventiff swiped with its wings and talons, and the Armatus mobile suits exploded upon collision.
Explosion after explosion.
The Armatus units kept pouring in, exhausting their long-range attacks before attempting to strike with their ionised blades.
Their efforts were futile.
Their lives were snuffed out within minutes.
It was pure slaughter.
There was no fairness in this battle.
How could mere ants make the giant fall?
Within fifteen minutes of the engagement, half of their Armatus units were obliterated into dust.