Ruinous Return

The ocean breeze was refreshing and instantly made Admiral Naila feel like she was back in her element. This is where she belonged, on the seas, aboard a vessel. Every time the ship gently rocked in the waves, she would expertly shift her weight to remain balanced. To every Ari from the Conclave of the Isle, the sea was their home.

"Report!" she shouted as she walked up to the top deck where the ship's wheel was located.

Her pilot saluted, right hand held in a claw over his chest. "Yes ma'am! Ravens sent to scout have sighted enemy vessels approximately one day away at current speed."

Naila nodded and gripped her amulet, willing it to broadcast to the nearby ship captains. "This is Admiral Naila. Let's pick up the pace! I want to see the enemy's sails before nightfall."

She heard the variety of confirmations over the communication amulet network and grinned in satisfaction as the Ari aboard the ironsides poured mana into the inscriptions, as the propeller on the bottom and back of the vessel whirled and caused them to surge forward in the waves. Looking over the rail, she could see the longboats pick up the pace of rowing as more sail was let out to take advantage of the near-constant wind that circulated Ghomar's main landmass in a counterclockwise direction.

Valagonia's ships will be going against the wind, she thought. Tacking back and forth. But they are circling the Teardrop Isles, so we won't be engaging in open water. That suited her just fine. The Ari vessels were nimbler than those Valagonia used. The only disadvantage that the Ari faced was numbers. According to the seer's reports, there were one hundred vessels. The Ari had the three ironsides, and fifty longships.

Ideally, we'll get close and performing boarding actions. That was how the Ari performed most of their ship-to-ship combat. Speed and maneuverability to get close, grappling hooks and rope to secure their smaller vessel to the larger ones, and then boarding action. Thanks to their stronger mana cores and longevity, they often had much superior training and could take enemy ships with ease.

The ironsides gave them the ability to ram the enemy, and with the new addition of the cannons captured at the Dragon's Maw, they now had ranged capabilities. Worst case scenario, I call in backup.

Empress Rivers had relayed the recent events to the admiral, and the Destroyer was hard at work fortifying the Azure Divide just as she had done with the Flontar River and The Rill; as well as transporting forces from Trisk to help man those defenses. "Only call on me in an emergency," the Destroyer had told her.

She sighed and went to the front of the vessel, leaning out over the bow as she felt the minor rocking of the vessel. To her slight dismay, the ironsides did not rock with the waves very much. They were stable vessels, despite the ten and fifteen foot high waves that surrounded them. Where's the fun in this? she thought with a slight chuckle.

Her communication amulet vibrated, and she picked it up, channeling some mana into it. A voice came through. A pleasant voice. Vael. "Hey Naila. You still sailing?"

She grinned. "Yes. The seas are perfect. With muscle and mana, we will reach Valagonia's navy by nightfall."

"Stay safe," Vael replied softly. "And when you come back, I have a treat."

"Oh?" Naila looked down at the clear waters below. "Do tell."

"Well…you treated me well at the hot springs, so I figured I'd take you somewhere secret. A place that only Duskari from the valley know about. A hidden grotto, deep in the fortress."

"Perfect. It'll be a while before I get back though. We're going to crush this navy and then have to take Firol and Sidalon before blockading the coastline of Valagonia. I'd expect to be gone a month or more."

There was a sigh. "Well, I'll be here to treat you right."

Naila laughed and idly chatted with her new paramour as the day drew on.

Ishon felt the breeze through his hair as his armada rounded the far southern edge of the Teardrop Isles. Admiral of Valagonia's navy, he oversaw attacking Khrelardia's coastline and forcing their defenses away from the front to counter the ocean-based assaults. A child of nobility hailing from Sidalon. His brother, David, ruled the duchy which produced all of the ships that served Valagonia's interests.

Ishon led all of those vessels, one hundred strong, mighty ships designed as a mixture of the Free City's caravels and the captured longboats of the Ari. The result was a medium draft that let them go up the major rivers and into deep waters. Maneuverability-wise, they were slow to turn, but each carried a complement of thirty sailors who had been trained on new weaponry from the heartland. Something called a rifle.

That, and the ships were each equipped with four ballistae with specialized ammunition that would ignite once it was in the air, spread flames along the vessels that were impacted. Each vessel was also equipped with a lifeboat that could double as a landing craft as the ships remained moored slightly offshore.

"Bring us into the isles," Ishon ordered. "We will moor off the beaches and send men to go fetch fruit from the land." His orders were relayed through a variety of flags, and the one-hundred-ship-strong fleet set anchor and sent forth scouting groups to go into the large island nearby to gather fruit. It will be a good morale boost, he thought.

He went into the captain's quarters and lay down, staring up at the slightly rocking lantern above him. His princess, the prophesied ruler of the country of his birth, had given him a secondary mission. Burn down Kor's Hold. Word of Commander Sigurd's failure had reached the mainland and worked its way through the few messenger pigeons to his armada. Princess Cecily was quite clear in her instructions. Burn it to ash and leave nothing but ruins.

The soft bobbing of the ship was soothing, and Ishon felt himself fading into blissful slumber. He dreamed of his wife and their three children, and how they would be growing up in a world without non-Humans. A perfect utopia for Humankind, helmed by their prophesied ruler.

Zebed got off of the longboat and clambered up the ladder onto the metal ship. He was grabbed by the shoulders and lifted up onto the deck by a titan of an Ari woman with hulking muscles and a confident grin. She wore a prominent amulet around her neck made of silver. "Ah, you are one of Empress Rivers' council underlings," he said politely in Arinol.

"Admiral Naila. You're Zebed Ba'n Azir Shedai, the guy who took over the Free City of Bashinol, right?"

"Correct." Zebed wiped his hands clean before holding it out to shake. The admiral gripped his forearm and after the brief interaction they walked to the back of the ironside. "The Bashinol ships are at your command. All one hundred fifty."

"This isn't going to be fair at all," Naila replied with a chuckle. "There's only one hundred we have to destroy."

Zebed shook his head. "That…doesn't make sense. Our reports showed more coming from the west."

Naila's gaze narrowed. "What?"

Zebed felt a chill go down his spine. "A second armada sailed east and circumvented the globe, coming around the northern edge of Bashinol." How did they not know?

Naila slammed her fist into the ship's hull, "Damnit! The diviners were focused on Valagonia proper, not some force that set sail months ago." She looked up north. "We can't get there in time. Did you not think to advise Empress Rivers?"

Zebed shook his head. "I only learned about it this morning from our flame tenders at the Bashinol Beacon. I assumed that they were known about and being anticipated." Note to self; the empress may be competent, but I should look into ingraining myself onto her council since someone is woefully incapable.

Naila picked up her amulet. "Empress Rivers, we have a problem." She was silent for a few moments as the empress spoke with her mentally. "There's another navy, coming around the northern side of Bashinol…Right…Okay." She let the amulet dangle once more and looked to Zebed. "We're to continue with our task. Empress Rivers is going to destroy that northern fleet. We are to destroy this one in the south and then continue to our taking of Sidalon, the Emerald Isle, and surround the central landmass of Valagonia."

Zebed nodded, knowing that those ships to the north were completely, utterly doomed. He had seen the empress's power firsthand, and knew that there was no chance they would survive unless she willed it. "What is the plan?"

"Ari can see in the dark without body enhancement. As far as I have been told, Valagonia's forces do not have troops with Darksight Eyedrops. You could bring your navy in the morning to sweep up any remainder."

Zebed leaned against the rail and looked out at the two fleets. "I am amenable to this plan." He sighed. "It's a pretty sight; the Teardrop Isles casting their shadows over the water. Like enormous fingers, stretching across the depths."

Naila nodded and leaned against the railing next to him. "There is a beauty to the ocean. A fierce beauty." She looked over to him. "You do not look like the type to lead vessels."

Zebed laughed. "I'm not. Believe me, my ship is the safest – at the back." He pulled a folded-up cloth from his jacket and handed it to her. "This flag designates your vessel as the flagship for my forces to follow. The captains of each Free City vessel have amulets courtesy of Lynhold." He produced a sheet of parchment with their names written on it. "Here you are."

Naila took the slip and handed the flag to an Ari marine. "You really are quite the prepared man."

Zebed nodded and looked out over the darkening waves. "One has to be when they have a chance to climb the ranks."

"Ah, you seek to sit on the empress's council?"

He shrugged. "I would enjoy taking the role of steward. That Sloren, Mol…he's a fine fellow, but running a brewing company is vastly different from running an entire monetary system."

"I doubt that Empress's Rivers would give control of the empire's finances to the ruler of the Free City. Otherwise, what would be the point of her taking over your domain in the first place?"

"My loyalty to her is unquestionable," Zebed replied tersely as his mood soured. "I have seen what she is capable of. I am loyal to her because I fear her. If she had a mind to, she could obliterate everything I hold dear."

"Is it only fear that drives your servitude?"

Zebed shook his head. "No. I respect her. She could have destroyed me, and instead she chose me to lead." He looked to the Ari admiral. "You see her as a goddess, and rightly so. She's the closest thing we have to one." He sighed. "I just want to leave behind a legacy for my family. But they will not inherit after me, as per the empress's strictures. A meritocracy where she will choose the next 'king' tier of ruler for the Free City."

"So you seek the steward position not for personal prestige, but to move your family to Lynhold and train them up to take over after you?"

"You're a quick one for a sailor."

Naila laughed. "You're what, forty years of age? Half of your life, if you're lucky. I've lived for four hundred years. You don't get to my age without growing in wisdom."

Zebed nodded. "Well, I'm off. Best of luck with the nighttime combat."

"Appreciated. Let me help you down to your longship."

It's always fucking something, Lyn thought as she flew out over the ocean from the edge of Khrelardia's coast. It was late in the night, and she was able to see the Bashinol Beacon bright in the distance far below her. Since she no longer had to worry about the lack of mana while flying high, she could go up to the edge of the atmosphere, protected from the cold by her body enhancements.

And, she could use a spell to create air. Granted, the mana drain was much more rapid due to the height from the surface of Ghomar, but she only needed to have such height for a few moments.

Her Farsight Eyedrop body enhancement allowed her to zoom in and scan the seas below. She had Cataclysm in her hands and willed it to the spear form. Time to use some physics to my advantage. Reaching into the storage dimension, she pulled out the underwater breathing bit and clenched it between her teeth. Here we go. The armada was easy enough to spot, and she let herself fall from the heights, angling her body to be vertical, facing down.

As she plummeted, she cast a simple barrier spell that would prevent all impact from affecting her body directly, entwined with verses that removed the air in front of her to remove any wind resistance. The result was akin to a meteor striking from the heavens, crashing down into the water's surface. No wind resistance to slow her impact.

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To her, she simply rocketed to the bottom of the ocean before slowing to a stop. But on the surface above, two-hundred-foot-tall waves overturned the Valagonian vessels. A whole fleet; separated and cast apart. Easy pickings for the Destroyer. "Aear durna / bo nin / i en innas lend / bleno thilár."

The ocean in front of her parted creating a temporary vacuum that she was sucked into from the water pressure – keeping focus on the spell, it enabled her to travel underwater at unmatched speed until she had maneuvered under one of the ships. She punched her clawed hand into it and ripped the underside of the vessel to shreds. One down.

Moving at ungodly speeds due to the water spell she repeated the same sundering strike on every vessel. The sailors abandoned ships and were scattered about in the water. Some in rowboats, some clinging to wooden barrels and planks, and some swimming in the dark. This is what you get for trying to attack my lands.

Still wielding Cataclysm in its spear form, she darted from person to person, spearing them through the torso or neck. It was bloody work, and she could see the variety of ocean life attracted by the violent disruptions to the water…and the blood. Enormous shark-like creatures with armored, scaled hides.

Oh. This is going to be easy. Lyn drew upon the Beastmaster core and shouted – the underwater breathing bit enabling her to speak without issue in the ocean. "Slaughter them all!" she screamed out in Khrelardian as she let her mana surge into the water around her. There was a pulse as the animals' eyes turned bright blue, their wills overridden by the hero core's unique ability.

The sea life for miles in all directions began assaulting the survivors, dragging them down to the depths to drown, arcing up and out of the water to strike the men above, and bringing ruin to the fleet. Lyn swam up and crested the surface of the water, flapping her wings to gain some height as she flew above the scene looking for any survivors.

One vessel had escaped her attention – and it was making for the Bashinol Beacon. Flying over to it, she landed on the top mast and growled in her draconic tone. The man in the crow's nest wheeled about and screamed in terror, falling backward and getting caught in the rigging. Lyn spoke in Shereldian. "You who sail for Valagonia…I, Empress Rivers, sentence you to death."

She jumped down, impaling the man who was trapped in the rigging and bringing his body down to the deck with her. The crew on the ship either screamed and fled to the rear of the vessel, or took up arms and charged Lyn. She swapped Cataclysm to the greatsword configuration and willed it to surge with arcing, pulsating lightning. A few of the sailors mana-charged their blades with a simple spell – but she snapped their blades in half. The ones that were not mana-charged, her weapon simply bypassed, striking the men and jolting them. Smoke poured from their orifices as they were cooked from the inside, and within seconds the whole group that had charged her lay dead and twitching.

She turned to the ones that had fled to the back of the vessel, cowering in a pile. The sea creatures were churning the waters below, and Lyn put Cataclysm away as she stood in front of the sailors, a specter of majesty and death. "You have a choice. Either throw yourselves over the edge and take your chances with my ocean-dwelling friends…or grovel at my feet, and earn a swift death."

"I'm not dying here!" one man screamed as he jumped into the water. As soon as he entered, there was one scream before he was dragged under, and a fountain of blood spurted up as the air in his lungs bubbled up to the surface.

"Anyone else?" Lyn asked.

The sailors – shaking, quivering, pissing themselves in fear – groveled before her.

"Spare us!"

"Forgive us!"

"Please! I have children!"

"I never got married!"

Lyn heard their pleas and shook her head. "You sailed for my lands. Threatened my people. I give you a swift death. To comfort you, I know what happens when you die." Several sailors looked up at her with tears filling their eyes. "You will be reborn on Ghomar. A new life. Another chance at a better life. With luck, within my empire's borders. Now, faces down, and shut your eyes."

The sailors did as they were instructed and some whispered prayers to Aelor. "There is no god here except for me." She took a deep breath and whispered an incantation in Elenthir. A single word. "Chaded." Death. Pure and simple. She did not have to worry about using a complicated verse to limit her mana expenditure.

A surge of pale blue energy coursed out from her and covered the whole ship. The sailors instantly died on the spot, and Lyn picked each up and tossed them into the water to feed the beasts that served her.

She grabbed the amulet around her neck. "Naila, report," she commanded in Arinol.

The admiral's voice came in a whisper. "Yes, Empress. We are approaching the south side of the Teardrop Isles for a night assault on Valagonia's navy."

"I have dealt with the northern armada." She glanced down and saw the sea creatures peering at her from the depths, expectantly. "I'll be heading your way…with some friends." She flew off above the surface of the water, pulsing her mana through her channels and into the water for miles around. The Beastmaster core called to all the animals in the region. "Follow me."

Lawrence took a deep breath before he lit up a torch and walked through the secret door and into the Conclave of the Fortress. His new body, whilst inscribed with all sorts of amazing enhancements such as more stamina, a more robust immune system, and other small changes, lacked dark vision. Brad had not created Darksight Eyedrops, and so he navigated via torchlight, following the instructions Lyn had given him.

The whole time he walked through the depths of this hidden stronghold within the fortress, he thought about what he would say. What he would do. Kory had killed him. Kory had killed over a hundred Newen in his assault on the Dragon's Maw. And Lawrence was given control over his fate.

There were many options. He could torment Kory. He could leave the former Berserker locked up and let him age into oblivion. He could kill him swiftly. So many options. And yet none of them seemed…right.

Lawrence was not like the other students who were raised in somewhat religious environs. He had very, very religious parents, and their beliefs disgusted him. His father had mentioned on several occasions that, if not for some holy book's teachings, he would do horrific things. Thankfully for Lawrence, his older sister took him in when he declared his atheist beliefs at age sixteen. He knew that his parents were not moral people – only some belief in a made up, punishing afterlife enforced their decisions. Well, maybe there was an afterlife on Earth. Ghomar didn't have one, and Lawrence didn't need some fear of eternal damnation to make him a good person.

Lawrence wasn't like them. He informed his morality and ethics based upon rationalization, reason, and kindness. And it was that kindness that brought him to Kory's cell, deep in the conclave through a rat's nest of tunnels that were confounding to say the least. If not for Thomas's exact instructions and certain details to spot on the walls, Lawrence would have been lost. The former Knowledge hero had written the instructions in English, and soon enough the former Shifter hero was standing in front of the former Berserker himself.

Kory was laid out on the ground. He was not shackled in any way, just lying on a simple reed mat covered with a few blankets. A bucket was in the corner for refuse, and in the opposite corner, an empty tray that once held food. A bucket of fresh water was halfway drained. The man looked up at Lawrence with bloodshot, deep brown eyes that reflected the torchlight. "Lawrence?"

"In the flesh," the Shifter hero replied as he crouched and set the torch on the ground to his side. "How are you holding up?"

Kory just shook his head slightly. "I…we saw you…get eaten."

"I was eaten. I got shit out. Spent some time soul-searching and just being on my own. Then, I joined up with Lyn." He pulled a strip of jerky out from a pouch and chewed on it absentmindedly. "You killed me."

"…sorry…when?"

"That tiger then bird then gopher. That was me. And I don't forgive you," Lawrence replied. "You hurt a lot of people. Lost some limbs, eh? A leg and an arm…that's rough."

Kory sniffled and used his one good arm to push himself up slightly, enough that he could lean on the bars and look at Lawrence. He was a broken man. Well cared for with clean clothes and good food…but defeated in every sense of the word. "I…There's a lot that happened."

"No shit. Let me ask you – why'd you just charge past the wall? You could've fought the army."

"I thought…the Demonic Dragon – Lyn – would be in the fortress." He shook his head, and a few scant tears began to drip down his face and onto the polished, marble, inscribed floor. "I…had to beat it. The thing I ran from…"

Lawrence sighed and tossed the jerky onto Kory's empty platter. The Berserker hero gingerly picked it up and munched on the salted meat. "Right, mister 'never back down from a challenge' had to prove to himself his manliness."

"You said it, not me."

"Well…how did that work out for you."

Kory chuckled and wiped his face. "How does it fucking look like it turned out?"

"You did challenge an empress—"

"Fucking Lyn." Kory scoffed. "Cecily convinced me Lyn wasn't really back. But she is, and she's way stronger than I could ever be." He looked up at Lawrence with a serious expression, "She consumed other hero cores."

"Yeah, she consumed mine before I died as a gopher."

"How are you back?"

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"Thomas. Cloned bodies. Backups."

Kory's eyes went wide. "That's what Cecily was trying to do."

"We know," Lawrence replied as he sat back against the wall opposite the bars. "Lyn has consumed…I think most of the hero cores at this point."

"Why?"

Lawrence shrugged. "Beats me." He pointed at Kory's chest. "She replaced your Berserker core with a squirrel's."

Kory's face expressed utter shock. "What? A fucking squirrel?"

"Yup. And she's allowing me to decide what to do with you. I could kill you; I could keep you imprisoned until you die. Your life is in my hands."

Kory's shoulders sagged and he sighed. "And what are you fucking going to do?"

"For now? Nothing." Lawrence pulled out a small book and slipped it through the bars of the cage. "I wrote down a whole bunch of meditation exercises. And Trisha has agreed to come and do some therapy. Apparently, you have a bunch of unresolved PTSD issues. Ultimately, I'm hoping that you come to terms with what you've done, process your problems, and are truly contrite for the atrocities you've committed."

Kory gently picked up the book and flopped back onto the reed mat. "Fine. It's better than just staring at the wall."

Lawrence stood up and grabbed the torch. "You'll find your inner peace. I did. Once that happens…well, we'll see if you can get to that point. If you ever want the easy way out, say the word, and I'll send someone in to do the deed."

Kory frowned. "I like being alive."

"Then work on yourself. Only once you've come to terms with what you've done and what you've become…then we'll discuss what comes next."

Admiral Naila's ironsides maneuvered deftly through the Teardrop Isles. The multitudinous landmasses were little challenge to navigate, and thanks to the Ari's innate ability to see in the dark, they were able to sail at night with no issue whatsoever.

Torchlight upon some of the isles caught her attention, and she directed her vessels to those blazing beacons. Ari marines silently slipped over the edge of the ironside and into the waves, swimming quietly as they got onto the land. She heard a brief shout or clang of metal on armor before each torch went out.

This is too easy, she thought as the marines swam back and were helped on board. "It looks like they were gathering food," one of them said as she wrung out her braid of hair.

Naila nodded and grabbed her amulet, willing it to speak with all of the Ari marines. "Spread out and kill all of them that are on the islands. Regroup on the southern side at my flagship." She heard the various confirmations of her orders in her mind and let her amulet fall down. "Full speed ahead, as quietly as we can."

The marines set to and poured mana into the propeller as the vessel silently surged forward, the only sound the slight lapping of the waves. The draft was shallow enough that they had no risk of washing up on the rocks or scraping the bottom, and despite the lack of maneuverability, they were able to navigate well enough. This armor better be worth it, she thought as the ship exited the cluster of islands and sat silent upon the waters.

A few hundred feet from her vessel was Valagonia's fleet. She could see the twinkling lantern light of the boats as they bobbed gently in the water. They're anchored, she thought with glee. It will take time for them to draw those back up. She looked back toward the land and spied a few of her longships coming into sight. Picking up her vibrating amulet, she heard the various marine commanders reporting success.

Over the next hour her ships regrouped in the dark waters. Final tallies were two hundred Valagonian sailors were slain and their rowboats punctured and sunk. Naila once more grabbed her amulet. "Internal spells. Then, follow the ironsides. We'll draw their attention and their fire. You lot, sneak up on them and boarding actions." Once more she heard the confirmations across the fleet.

Taking a deep breath she barked commands – intending to be heard by the Valagonians across the sea. "Full speed ahead! Bring up the ironside cover! Prepare the cannons!" The men and women under her command hopped to, and she heard the slight scraping as the top cover of her vessel was pulled across the arching framework. Boarders would find themselves on a slippery, iron surface, and projectiles would not be able to enter. But the cannons were placed in something called "gun ports" that would enable them to fire upon the ships on either side.

The ship surged forward, and she personally took the helm. Steering was easy enough – she could see through a series of angled mirrors out of a small metal spire that the topmost metal cover went around. It gave her a ninety-degree view of the area directly in front of the vessel, and she angled it right into the center of Valagonia's ships.

There were shouts and commands in Shereldian, but they were distant and muffled. As the ship surged forward, she could see the ballistae being prepared as the Humans scrambled around on the decks. But they were not fast enough to turn the weapons before the ironside had gone in between two of the vessels. The other ironsides entered the cluster of moored ships further away, and the ring of alarm bells went off as a handful of spells flew into the sky, lighting up the sparkling ocean.

"Open fire!" Naila shouted. A sound of crashing thunder hit her ears, and she winced as the echoing boom reverberated throughout the metal vessel. She heard the splintering and cracking of timber all around. "Reload!" The Ari drew the cannons back, rapidly reloaded under a minute, and waited for the next command.

Naila scanned for some type of flagship. Damnit. They all look the same. She knew if she took out the central command structure the rest would be easy pickings. Her vessel began to suffer impacts – the dull thump and clang of ballistae shattering against the metal vessel. There was a sound of booted feet impacting up top. "Seal the ports!"

All of the Ari drew the cannons back and slammed the slots shut. Naila pulled the lever next to the wheel, and the vessel performed a roll, depositing the boarders into the surf. The Ari bounced around inside, hanging on for dear life, as the vessel came to an upright position. Naila slammed back to the deck and felt the air rush out of her lungs. Fucking ouch! She pushed herself up and resumed her place at the wheel. "Open ports!" Looking through the mirror ensemble she saw they were truly in the thick of the enemy ships. "Fucking kill them all!"

The thunderous crack of the cannons echoed into the night and over the waters, returned by the other ironsides off in the distance. A series of rhythmic pulses that vibrated the air, shattered timber, and set boats alight as the flame-imbued cannonballs blasted through their foes.

Ishon was roused as soon as the first boom went off. The fuck is going on? He scrabbled out of his hammock and got onto the deck. "Lights! Mage lights!" he shouted. The mage assigned to his vessel muttered some incantation and a spark of light shot up into the sky before illuminating the area for hundreds of feet around. The same spell shot up on several other ships – the mages spread out for this exact reason.

The sudden illumination revealed an enormous metal vessel in the midst of the armada, firing cannons from the sides. Ishon had seen them in production, but none of his vessels were outfitted with them. They were all saved for the land war. Of more concern were those ships – they had no weapons that could penetrate a metal-lined vessel. The fact it was even on the water boggled his mind.

A group of men jumped onto the top and began slamming down with picks and hooks, trying to pry off the metal. But the vessel retracted the cannons, the ports sealed, and it rotated in the water, dumping the boarders into the surf before it righted itself. What magic is that?

Over the din of the thundering cannons, he heard the clash of weaponry. Pulling his spyglass, he peered to the east. He could see long-eared Ari, boarding his vessels and engaging the crew in hand-to-hand combat. Those bastard knife-ears!

Even more concerning was the Ari still on their longboats who began to manifest flames in their hands, before Newen – hidden amongst their ranks – placed their hands around the flaming orbs. Those orbs vanished from Ishon's sight, and then moments later enormous, blazing explosions set ships alight. Stealth spells? The mana required for that was vast, so much so that none of Ishon's mages could even consider using such a potent verse to alter their spell.

He drew his blade and peered down at the metal vessel adjacent to his ship, knowing he could not help the ships further away. Nothing we can do about those metal vessels…unless…He called over his shoulder, "Pitch! Bring up all the tar and pitch we have!"

His crew rallied to his orders and as they brought the barrels of pitch meant for hull repairs up to the surface, he directed them to smash the top and throw them onto the metal boats. The thick, viscous sludge spread over the ship as the barrels smashed against its hull. "Torches!" he shouted, and the men picked up on the idea quickly, igniting and throwing torches onto the ship.

An enormous bloom of flames arced up, and the vessel withdrew the cannons, trying to turn in place to extinguish the flames. That buys us some time to figure out what to do. Ishon turned to his mage. "Ideas?"

The young woman leaned over the edge of the boat and peered down at the now-righting itself metal ship. "We could try poison? If I can angle a spell just right to get into one of the hol—" As she was speaking, a scimitar sliced the top of her head off, and a hand gripped her shoulder pulling her into the drink.

"We're being boarded!" Ishon shouted as an enormous, tan-skinned Ari woman clambered on the deck.

Naila dragged herself up onto the vessel. Pitch and tar had somehow slipped inside of the iron vessel, and it had begun to drain the air in the room to feed the raging inferno. She had to open the lower hatch, letting her marines escape into the ocean to perform boarding actions. Eventually, the flames will run out of fuel. We can recover the vessel later.

She had just cut the top of the head off a Valagonian woman who had been speaking of casting a spell. As she got over the railing, she was beset by three crew members. Her scimitar skills were more than a match, and she held the trio off as they rained down a hail of blows. She gripped the assailant on the left, dragging his arm into the path of the center combatant's slice, which took the appendage clean off. She then kept using the momentum of the one-armed man to shove him into the attacker on the right.

"Come on then!" she shouted in Shereldian. "You wanted to kill an Ari? Give it a try!" She felt the adrenaline surge through her. The battle frenzy filled her with joy. The rocking of the ship under her feet melded with her footwork, and she carved a bloody path through the sailors, chasing down a more regal-looking Human with a long, thin blade. She suffered cuts and slashes due to her light armor, but they were surface wounds. Superficial. She could easily shrug them off.

The sounds of combat echoed around her, and she let out a laugh. A bellowing, arrogant laugh that instilled fear not because of the noise itself. Rather, the fact that this Ari that had boarded a vessel was taking on the whole crew and enjoying it. There were no other Ari who attacked alongside Naila. It was her against thirty, and her mastery of vessels enabled her to use the ship to her advantage.

She gripped a rope and sliced the counterweight, launching through the air before landing in front of the regal Human on the topmost deck. "Come on! Try me!"

The man took up a dueling stance and jabbed forward several times in quick succession. His weapon was like a rapier, but thicker and with a triangle point. Naila deflected and tried to advance, but the longer reach of the blade kept her from closing despite her longer arm length.

She heard feet approaching behind her and knew she would be overrun in a moment. Damnit! She leaped overboard and dove into the water, swimming under the vessel. She could hold her breath for over five minutes – all the Ari marines could perform such a feat.

But what met her underwater was completely unexpected. She saw a frenzy of animals surging around her. And they were angry…but not at her. They were going for Valagonian sailors who had been either thrown overboard or were already in the water having abandoned ship from the ironside assault.

What in the abyss is going on? She swam to the ironside and raised her hand up into the interior space from the lower hatch. She felt no presence of heat and pushed her head up. No air met her lungs, but the fire was out. Somehow, the ship was still upright. Must be something to do with the construction¸ she thought, having only had a small amount of hands-on experience with the crafting of the vessel. Normally the lack of air would cause the water to rush in. Strange. Hauling herself up, she moved to the helm and retracted the roof, sucking in a lungful of air.

Flying above the ironside, wielding an enormous greatsword that was alight with burning rage, was her empress. "About time you showed up!" Naila shouted in Arinol as she let out a whoop of excitement.

Lyn flew down to her. "Report."

"The Ironsides are wreaking havoc. Ari are boarding every ship. The sea life is behaving weirdly."

"My doing. They will only hunt Humans." She looked to the ship that Naila had just fled from and stepped in front of the admiral. Naila hadn't noticed, but several crossbowmen had taken aim at her and let loose a volley. Lyn's wings deflected them as they wrapped securely around the two. She reached down and channeled mana into the inscription on the hull of the vessel, and the roof returned as more bolts pinged off it.

"My thanks," Naila said as the battle rush began to fade.

Lyn picked up her amulet. "All Ari, fall back to your vessels." She went to the floor hatch and dove down.

A few minutes passed, and Naila's marines returned to the vessel. She turned the ship but left the bottom hatch open. More marines arrived – but not all of them. Casualties. To be expected, she thought, not looking forward to the numbers that would doubtless come from the whole affair.

As she turned the vessel, she saw the ships sinking underwater, one at a time. She saw surges of blue in the waves, and after a few minutes when all the vessels nearby were gone, she retracted the roof and looked about.

The armada was, one vessel at a time, being carved apart by Lyn's blue flame blade from below, gutting the hulls as they sank down. The cloudy blood in the water was a testament to the viciousness of the sea life at her command. Naila even spotted the man that she had been fighting – that ship captain – being eaten alive by an enormous fish with a razor-sharp maw.

What a woman, she thought, letting out a shout as the Destroyer flew out of the water, swapped her weapon to a spear, and plummeted from on high, piercing through the deck of a ship and into the waters below like a falling star with the most devastating aim.

The rest of the Ari on her ship cheered, and she wheeled on them. "Come on, get those cannons engaged! We can't let the Destroyer have all the fun!" More cheers met her ears as they set out toward as-of-that-moment undamaged vessels. We'll make them pay for taking Shereld from us.

The sun crested over the waves and blinded Zebed as they sailed east. Damn. We won't be much use if we can't see our opponents. Thankfully, a cover of clouds rolled in, and he blinked his sight clear of the sunspots on his lids. The sight before him was unsettling, to say the least. There was no hint of a Valagonian fleet – just the Ari fleet. Minus a few longships and one ironside.

He reached into his cloak and pulled out his mirror, looking up as he heard the flap of wings. Lyn landed on the rail, gripping with her feet-claws as she looked down at him. "You made it," she said in Khrelardian.

Zebed bowed. "My apologies; we cannot fight at night as you well know."

"It's fine," she replied. "The Valagonian fleet to the north and this southern fleet have been obliterated. Your assignment will be to take Sidalon with the Ari navy. Then, you will begin the blockade of the coastline. The Ari navy will move on to the Emerald Isle, and then finish the encirclement of Valagonia's coastline."

Zebed bowed. "It will be done."

The Destroyer stepped down onto the deck of the vessel, and Zebed saw her mass decrease as her internal spells faded. "Your quarters are available?"

"Of course," Zebed said as he led her to his sumptuous room. He opened the doors and gestured, "I can provide you with food and drink if you so choose."

Lyn nodded and sank into a chair. He could see the tiredness in her face now that they were out of the harsh light of the sun. "I will not be able to join you in the conquest of Sidalon or the Emerald Isle."

Zebed nodded and pulled a small cord that ran down to the galley below. Within minutes, a crewmate brought up two platters of food – one of meat and one of fruit – and a flagon of wine. He bowed and left. Zebed closed the doors behind the crewmate as Lyn tore into the meal and gulped the flagon. He took a seat opposite her and watched her eat, noting that her mouth shifted to a draconic maw for a brief moment as she took bites of meat. "My lady…are you well?"

Lyn swallowed the hunk of meat she had just consumed and shook her head, "No. I'm not. My seers did not spot the northern fleet. I did not plan on being up a full day, night, and into another morning. I may be mighty, but even I must sleep."

Zebed nodded and leaned back in his chair. "You are welcome to sleep aboard my ship if you desire."

She swallowed a chunk of pineapple and shook her head, "No. I must return to Lynhold. But I thank you for the repast."

Zebed stood up and bowed. "I am always at your service, Empress."

Lyn finished off the platters, drained the flagon, and nodded. "Then I take my leave." She muttered something in Elenthir, and a blue flash of light darted out the open window and into the distance.

So, the Destroyer does have limitations. Zebed never harbored any desire to usurp her or destroy what she was doing – her machinations had brought him to the position of ruling the whole of the Free City. But, knowing she had a weakness was valuable information.

Should she ever go mad with power, exhausting her with constant, harassing attacks all across Ghomar is how one would stop the madness. Such a plan would cost thousands of lives…but this knowledge was valuable in the event that she became untrustworthy. But for now…

Zebed opened the doors of his cabin and went to the top deck. "Signal the fleet; we move to Sidalon."

They began to move past the still-recovering Ari fleet and exchanged a handful of shouts of encouragement. "We'll soften them up," Zebed shouted in Arinol as the marines let out a cheer.

Sidalon was where Valagonia produced many of their vessels. But before they could reach that island duchy, they would have to pass Firol. The island duchy of Khrelardia which should have had a navy.

As the hours dragged onward and the edge of Firol came into view, Zebed hoisted himself up the rigging and peered through a spyglass. The sight that met him made his stomach churn with disgust. The whole island was black. Burned. As if someone had placed flames along the exterior of the gorgeous, sandy beaches right at the tree line, and blew them inward to catch everything alight. The only standing objects were the burned-out husks of buildings and scant trees.

King Marshall's fleet was nowhere to be found, and as Zebed's ships passed by the island, he saw why. In the shallows near one of the bays, he saw an enormous metal chain drawn across the expanse between the two prominent stone jetties. Inside that bay, barely visible through the water, were the sunken vessels of Khrelardia's navy. Trapped inside the bay and sank. It must have been sabotage. He could see the corpses piled high slightly inland – black masses of charred flesh that left no doubt as to the fate of the inhabitants. A whole duchy…gone.

The sheer level of depravity sickened Zebed. She really is a monster. He clambered down the ropes and onto the deck of the ship, sucking in deep breaths as he let out a sigh. "I'm too old for this," he muttered.

One of the crew nearby overheard. An older ship hand that Zebed knew from occasional voyages. "Maybe don't be climbing the masts, you fat bastard."

Zebed chuckled and waved the man away. That was just how sailors were – crass and blunt. You're right, I need to lose some weight. He went to his quarters and lay down in his bed. When he shut his eyes, all he could see were the charred corpses of the slain.

Naila's armada made extremely rapid time. Sidalon was off the southeastern coast of Ghomar's mainland. It was where the pinnacle of shipyards was located. Enormous, long stretches of docks led the way to warehouses upon the water that could facilitate the indoor creation of ships. She had been here before. In fact, prior to the Ari being run out of Valagonia, Sidalon was her home.

The place she wanted to get back to and conquer the most out of all Valagonia's territories. Those shipyards were the result of hundreds of years of Ari ingenuity and craftsmanship. Yes, the Valagonians had improved upon them, but the very docks that stretched out into the water were put down by Naila and her brethren.

The Bashinol fleet had surrounded the island, preventing any from leaving. From their correspondence previously, she knew that Zebed's forces were sailors, unlike the Ari who were marines. Able to fight just as effectively on a boat as on land. She reached for her amulet and barked out orders in Arinol. "We go to the southwest edge and will enter through the submerged trees."

Various affirmations came over the communication amulet, and she steered the ironside toward a sunken land bridge between Sidalon and the main landmass. A huge, twenty-foot-wide sand bar that used to be raised up land. Before the Ari used spells to push it underwater to try to stave off invasion. The trees stayed upright, and even now their tops had continued to grow. A near-impassable forest to traverse by boat.

But with the ironsides, they could be traversed. Naila had the other two ironsides form up a wedge, and they pushed forward, clearing a path for the longboats behind as they made it to the shore of this undefended side of the island. The vessels slid onto the beaches, and the Ari set forth to their grisly task ahead.

Naila left the ironside, incanting an internal bolstering spell to push her body to its limits as she dashed ashore. Her marines were right alongside her, and they deftly navigated the rocky, light-incline cliff to get atop the landmass proper. The scent that hit her was all encompassing and immediately reminded her of home. The sweet, long, purple grasses that produced a fragrant odor that could not be captured.

As they traveled across the fields, silent as shadows and unseen by any Valagonian eyes, she thought back to the conversation she had with Lyn previously. "The Ari would want to recolonize our home island."

"All Ari?" Lyn had asked.

"Just those who desire to. Definitely my own group."

"Hmm. If that is the case, you would not be able to continue service as my admiral. I need my admiral at Lynhold."

"I understand that. But I long for my home, and once Valagonia is crushed, I can take it back."

Lyn nodded. "Very well. We finish this war, and you may have Sidalon as a vassal state of my empire."

The knowledge that her homeland, the place where she was born was within her reach, spurred Naila on. They arrived at the coastal port town. More akin to a metropolis, now that she looked at it from the incline of the hill. A sprawling, vast cityscape with hundreds of buildings – many of which were coated with soot that had fallen from above as the enormous buildings along the water spewed their vile smoke. But not now. They were still. The whole town was still.

She grabbed her amulet. "Spread out, and kill any who fight back. If they don't resist, leave them." The plan was to destroy all defenders, group up the survivors, and then utilize the statue Zebed had brought from Bashinol to remove whatever mind spells Princess Cecily had put upon them, including removing their hatred of the non-Human races.

She slipped down to the edges of the town. The clean, clear streets had no places to hide, and so she trusted her muscles instead, clambering on top of the buildings and using the roofs to travel. Several Ari followed her and switched weaponry to javelins. She scanned the streets. Where is everyone? Asking the same question into her amulet, the various squads reported back that there was no sign of life.

Cecily had not been idle in the few days since her defeat. She had summoned her council and sent out orders. Every single citizen had been summoned to the capital. It would take weeks, and she was running out of time. Reports had come from carrier pigeons that her fleets – both of them – had been destroyed. At least my spies are doing their part, she thought. It felt like the walls were closing in on her, and she knew that drastic actions had to be taken and taken soon.

The garrisons were escorting the citizenry to Cecilaria, and so they should be able to fend off attackers as they gathered every possible person, man, woman, child, grandparent – any person who could hold a weapon. To them, they were answering the call of their prophesied ruler. A call to a holy war. To the citizenry, where the soldiers failed, fervor and faith would win the day.

"The propaganda campaign has been extremely effective," Cecily's spymaster said quietly as the ruler sat on the ground, drawing an intricate inscription with the assistance of the mage who had abandoned Lynhold and was now her total thrall.

Cecily nodded. "Yes, the techniques I learned in my world are quite valuable here." She continued to carve with the adamantine chisel, etching the words that would give her access to this unknown storage space. This 'abyss' as the natives of Ghomar referred to it as.

The spymaster cleared her throat slightly. "Princess…this plan of yours…forgive me for my lack of faith, but is it really wise to open something that has been a curse throughout history?"

Cecily stood up and stretched, gesturing for her mage to take a breather as well. "Maybe not wise, but there is not really any other choice, is there? Our armies are crushed, our navies are obliterated, and I am not fleeing."

"Of course, Your Highness. I'll leave you to it."

"Wait," Cecily ordered as she walked over to the woman. "I want you to do one thing for me."

"I live to serve."

"I want you to bring me every single citizen that is not able to wield a weapon. They will serve with their dying breaths to grant me the power to open this storage dimension."

"The masses will fuel your ambition, and you shall lead us to a bright future. It will be done."

Cecily nodded and went back to her inscribing, her mage picking up the work as well. I need more mana, but then I can figure out what is in this abyss.

It wasn't like an afterlife or hell – she knew that firsthand, since she only had the two doors aside from her backup when she was killed. She froze as she held the implement, feeling the fear tingle up her spine from seeing Lyn through mud-flecked eyelashes.

Brad's torture was excruciating, but she endured, her ruler core helping her maintain her sanity and hold on reality. But Lyn…the woman hated her with every fiber of her being. For the first time in a long, long time, Cecily felt a slight pang of regret. And without the ruler core to rebuff that feeling, it slowly spread throughout her being. The fuck did I do to her?

She tried to go through the memories of the past, reflecting upon what she had done to her old classmate. And the more she ruminated, sitting there on the cool floor of the now-empty dungeon, she saw the truth of Lyn's accusations and blame. I made her life horrible.

She wasn't sorry. The regret was only due to her own failures. Regret at not taking the returned Lyn Rivers seriously. Regret at not actually believing the missive she had sent – instead assuming it was the Demonic Dragon, reborn. Cecily was partially correct in that regard, as the Lyn that squeezed her neck until her head popped off was partially draconic. She felt regret because of her own lack of foresight. Her own lack of preparedness. And, her narrow vision of her desires.

Lyn had outplayed Cecily. She had vassalized Trisk, the non-Human, race-specific kingdoms of Fosk, Raptol, and Vharthos. Khrelardia, and Bashinol. What did Cecily do? She hyper-fixated. Just like she did throughout her life, intensely focusing on one singular goal until she had perfectly achieved it.

She only felt regret for not being more ruthless. She should have invaded Trisk five years ago when she had the chance, relying on King Kristoph to stay neutral by posturing along the border. She should have destroyed those race-based kingdoms within Trisk's sphere of influence. Then, she could have turned on Khrelardia, and taken Bashinol with time. It all could have been hers. Instead, the class slut who barely focused on anything important had become the most powerful being on Ghomar – even taking her Ruler core.

Cecily shook her head and went back to work carving the Elenthir verses. If this abyss doesn't have something I can use inside…then it's all over. Even if it is something I cannot control…I'd rather let it loose to wreak havoc than let Lyn kill me and rule the kingdom.

She knew how to make storage spaces – the verses were extremely simple compared to some of the more complex ones. The issue she had always run into was that her core did not have the proper spell type. But now, she had a dungeon core. Just like a native of Ghomar – there was nothing limiting her, save mana.

And that is what those citizens would provide. She would bring them down here, flay them alive, harvest their cores, and grow as much strength as possible to tear open this storage dimension that – theoretically – this verse would open.

Whatever it is inside…if I can't control it, I just hope it ruins the world on its return.

Zebed shouted down to Naila aboard her ironside as it pulled away from the island of Sidalon, "What did you find? We heard little combat," he asked in Arinol.

Naila shook her head as she shouted back up, "Everyone was gone. The whole island abandoned."

Zebed reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out the mirror, willing it to activate as he poured a small sliver of mana into it. Chancellor Vehenna appeared, and dipped her head. "Ah, Lord Zebed. To what do we owe the pleasure?"

"Sidalon is empty."

"Hmm. Odd. I will report this to the empress. Please continue with the plan."

Zebed nodded and put the mirror away. He leaned over the rail again. "Alright! Head over to the Emerald Isle! We'll begin the coastal blockade."

Naila saluted and took her vessels around the southern side of Sidalon. As she left, Zebed issued orders to his captains as they began to split off in pairs to patrol the waters off the mainland's coast. Cecily must be amassing every single able body, he thought. It's the only reason that makes sense. She is going to turn the populace into her new army.

Naila's fleet made good time and arrived at the Emerald Isle. It, too, was empty – just like Sidalon. They even encountered Trisk's navy – having been sent from the kingdom of Trisk at Lyn's orders, and those crews reported no sighting of Valagonia's citizens. The whole coastline had been abandoned. Fishing harbors, docks, quays, bays, even lighthouses were no longer manned. All lay quiet save for the wildlife and the breeze blowing through the land.

She picked up her amulet, focusing on Marshal Remora. "Reporting in."

"Go ahead," the voice of the marshal replied.

"We have rendezvoused with Trisk's navy. We will begin the coastal blockade."

"Confirmed. Be aware, there are reports from Steward Mol's Revenge army that the Duchy of Skrell has been abandoned as well. They are on the trail of the group exodus heading south. Keep the coastline safe, and prevent all Valagonian vessels from fleeing."

"Alright," Naila muttered as she let the amulet drop to her chest. What is that damned princess up to?