Report begin: Force Cinder stayed close to the Ashfront in order to serve as forward scouts. Prince Asmodeon’s prediction regarding the unknown enemy in what they call North Arika has proven correct. Arascan forces at able to withstand the passing of Ashen Skies. Whether this will be the same in urban areas is unknown, once Ashen Skies spread further, we will spread out and investigate the local landscape to investigate if it the sorcery-barriers that were used in the past or whether it is something as simple as burying underground.

The simpler explanation should be favoured at this point, although I am unwilling to make any conclusions due to the fact they first breached the Ashfront in the desert. Maybe some new brand of magic to specifically manipulate sand? Watchtowers did not detect any traces of sorcery or magic during the Force Cinder’s initial probing run. This fact is worrisome. If Spewer-Twelve was destroyed by magic, it would be one thing. Nevertheless, Force Cinder confirms that the Arascan Empire has sufficiently advanced in technology and doctrine to employ wholly ranged armies.

Traditional countermeasures were overwhelmed by explosions. Survivors report both and direct fire. It is conclusive at this point that they were firing from upon the mountain. Nevertheless, no survivor reports seeing anything which could resembling the flashes of artillery. Could they have shot from behind the mountain? The visual confirmation from survivors suggest they do not have invisibility. It would be theoretically possible considering that their direct fire began to engage Force Cinder at ranges over a mile.

They have obviously prepared for our coming. Armour has proven both effective and defeatable. The sole Greater Demon survivor reports that whereas the smaller metallic hailstone could not penetrate, he witnessed kin by ripped apart by specialist rounds which left great holes and lacked an explosion. This is confirmed from other survivors. Different types of ammunition were obviously used against us. Demons capable of flight state that their ability to traverse above the ground made them into easier target. Winged Corps should take this into advice: we may have to adopt Paraideisian low-flying skirmishing tactics rather than high-altitude fire.

Less consequentially, a cavalry force number two thousand was cut down before being able to close the gap. I stand by my position that such forces should be held in reserve whilst we are operating under ashcover. The survivors state that the steeds are having issue with charging through the ash. Additionally troops should be spaced out to minimize the losses from their explosive weaponry. Even the explosions were of a chemical nature, rather a supernatural one. The lack of magical support suggests that mages have been relegated into different roles rather than the First Arascan War’s direct battlefield support. Maybe they are held in reserve?

In regards to battle tactics, I will hold off before giving more advice. Nevertheless, I suggest mass production of artillery. The gate-breakers used in the Dwarven Population Control Campaign could be easily readapted. Additionally, we are unaware of how large their stocks of ammunition actually are. Considering the First Arascan War’s tactics: they would not slow down on fire until they suddenly ran out. This is Kassandoran theory through and through. Whereas her presence was confirmed by Furcas, we should continue under the assumption that the Arascan Empire still relies upon her as the primary fountain of military doctrine.

One thing I am certain of: They have more tricks left in them.

– Summary of the Force Cinder report. Written by Prince Semirge.

“All guns, turn broadside towards the land.” Callaghan calmly gave the order from the bridge of the INS Kassandora. Just before the Archdemon had crossed into the waters, the thousands of square miles of ashen skies had seemingly begun to collapse in North Arika. Now, they had apparently began to advance again but at the pace they approached, it Orripolis still had maybe four days before it was submerged.

Four days was barely half-a-week. How much could be done in the span of four days? In some fashion, four days was worthless. It was worth than less than nothing, no great project could be completed in that such a short span of time. Yet in other ways, four days could last an eternity. The first and second fleets were supporting the city’s defences now. This morning, Tartarian land forces had crossed the horizon. They were almost upon the city.

Callaghan did not even want to consider the state of the city. It was obvious that refugees were fleeing out of it, to the north or crowding the docks. Imperial and Ibyan flags both waved in the city, in one direction to the dust cloud being kicked up by buses and cars and trucks trying to speed away were a number, men were marching out of those sprawling urban land, it looked as if someone had started pouring hap-hazard foundations to a great fortress and then given up mid-way through. Skyscrapers twenty floors tall sat next to homes without an attic, across the road were tall apartment blocks. All of it flat-roofed, men were obviously marching on the roofs. Towards the south of the city, there was obviously a militia being rallied. Cars were driving out of the city and parking to make makeshift cover against the advancing army, more men were digging in with shovels. The streets were also being barricaded. Bulldozers blocked alleys with their heavy ploughs as civilian diggers were working on pulling up as much dirt as a possible to dig ditches. Anything to buy the people at the dock even a few more seconds of time.

Inside the bridge of the INS Kassandora was the organised chaos of battle. Everyone was speaking into a radio, whether it was to manage and track the fleet or keep the Kassandora herself running. Screens were blinking with camera feeds from this ship and from others, with radar maps, with sonars, one was perpetually on a map of the entire region showcasing all the movement. Yet another issue came up. “Ammunition Ship Ella asks whether to head to Rilia or Orripoli?”

“Orripoli!” Callaghan shouted back to one of radio operators. “Give the order and then maintain silence for fleetwide comms!” It was incredible how the bridge of the Kassandora could turn from the chaos of an overworked office one moment to total silence in the span of a few seconds. Callaghan leaned down to his microphone. “First-Second Combined Fleet. Commence shore bombardment.” Callaghan gave the order. No point delaying it. The Kassandora drummed in rhythmic thunder, lessons had been learned even from the Archdemon fight. All barrels firing at the same time would have enough recoil on the ship to throw the entire vessel back. Giving each gun a half-second delay would make them more accurate and would minimize how far in the water the ship was thrown back.

And so did the rest of the heavy bombardment vessels in the fleet. Missile pods opened in the backs of ships as great cannons slammed backwards, their barrels trying to compensate for as much recoil as possible. A cloud of smoke from the missile spread across the seawater. Once it had been a marvellous blue, now the sheer amount of ash in the atmosphere made both dulled it into a dirty grey just as it tried to smear the sky with its shade. Four days until the Ashfront descended upon them again, ninety-six hours until the city was lost to the outside unless the One-Seventeenth pulled off another miracle.

Heavy cruisers and battleships and two of the Trebuchet-Class bombardment vessels that had arrived only two days ago, fresh off the docks of Tull, opened fire upon the black mass that was moving north towards the city. More than two hundred shells soared through the air as missiles chased them, only to be chased by even more shells as the Combined First-Second Fleet opened fire. Every demon killed in Arika was a demon that would never set foot in Epa. Callaghan had not even bothered to look into the long-range cameras that could zoom in on the front. Enemy composition did not matter at this point.

They were not here to win any battle. They were here to hold those damn docks open for as close to ninety-six hours as they could. Every ten minutes was another refugee ship. Every ship was another few hundred lives saved.

Just as Callaghan thought would happen, bright orange, almost neon-shaded, flames rose into the air. “Enemy deploying countermeasures!” One of the men shouted.

“Keep up the fire, overwhelm them. Ammunition ships to start restocking immediately during firing. Don’t break formation.” Ship after ship rocked in the open ocean as waves crashed upon them. They got a third volley off before the first volley hit. A quarter of the shells were met by beasts of streaming flame. It had been like this on the Archdemon. The Archdemon had better defences too, more organised and numerous and focused.

Two miles of ground were suddenly torn up by explosion as the shore bombardment hit. Missiles spread out and slammed into the ground, creating great mushrooms of flames and kicking dust up into the air. The Archdemon had definitely possessed some elite force, this lot gave up on trying to cook the heavy rounds almost immediately. The unnaturally coloured Tartarian flames burned out immediately as the ships kept on firing. A bombardment like this could be kept up for ten minutes before Kassandora ran out of ammunition, the barrels would start melting in a quarter of the time though. That wasn’t for Callaghan to micro-manage though. He just watched the fireworks tear through the force approaching Orripoli.

It wouldn’t be this easy though. Of course it wouldn’t. “Admiral, the Steelblood reports radar signature from the south.” That was one of the smaller destroyers, furthest south. It was only there to secure point.

“Sparrowhawk confirms too!” Its sister ship, small ships were like infantry squads. Sending them alone was just throwing resources away.

“Zawitz has visual!” Callaghan turned from watching his ships bombard the approaching force and push them back. Another ship was leaving the port, another was entering. The former a huge civilian cruise-liner that had been taken over by the navy to assist in evacuation, the latter one of the ammunition ships that had emptied its storage of missiles. Through the glass, Callaghan looked up at the horizon.

For a moment, he could do nothing but stare as a screaming mass of bodies soared in the air. There was no need to be awoken though, whether it was flying demons or Be’elzebub or whatever else Tartarus had to throw at them, Callaghan had discussed contingencies regarding almost every situation with Marshal Tremali. He leaned into the microphone. “Combined First-Second Fleet, this is Admiral Callaghan speaking.” The bridge immediately went silent, no one would dare interrupt a fleet-wide order. “We are under counter-attack from South-South-East. I repeat, Tartarus is counter-attacking from direction South-South-East.”

If there was one piece of information that Tremali had beaten into every officer’s head, it was that the simplest orders were the best. High-Command should not be micromanaging individual units. Even Callaghan, had gotten that information drilled into his head. “Destroyer teams, take point. Cruisers follow up. Escort vessels are to stay behind. Cease the barrage and prepare for air-engagement, gas-capable ships are to stay in the middle of the fleet. Callaghan out.” That last one was a mere fall-back plan if it turned out that the swarm was The admiral leaned back from the microphone and started barking orders at the officers of the Kassandora. “To arms men! Distribute weapons and prepare for boarding! Shift mages to the frontal shields and prepare them to activate!” Vessels from Rilia had finally brought a set of enchanted gemstones and a team of mages to work them. Apprentices all, but they weren’t here to do much more than serve as living mana-batteries.

Callaghan’s own headset buzzed to life with a communication on the captain’s channel. “Fleet Admiral, this is Captain Leriechie. Permission on the Skyshredders?”

Callaghan did not even bother thinking on it, those were experimental missiles which had only been delivered to the Aris a few days ago. Iliyal was already complaining about not having battlefield test results. “Permission granted. Open fire.” Callaghan gave one final look to the swarm and then turned left and right. The Aris was distinct in its shape, instead of the usual three-by-three turret-by-barrel set up, it had a two-by-four. The front of the ship housed the massive pair of massive guns, almost as wide as the ship itself, the back was entirely flat.

The ship was close enough to see its crew flee the ships rear and back towards that uneven monstrosity of a control tower. Flaps opened in the back of the ship, each one large enough to be a door to a house. One of the radio operators shouted what Callaghan already knew. “Aris to fleet: experimental weaponry!” The man wouldn’t be admonished for it, it was standard protocol. He watched a tube pop out of one of the Aris’ missile bays. It launched maybe a dozen feet into the air, stopped as if it was about to fall, and then the missile’s own engines activated. Another missile popped from the next bay as the first one flew straight up like a rocket heading for the cosmos, but that trajectory changed after a few seconds.

A turn so tight could have been done by a go-kart and not a missile taller than a man. There was no arc, the rocket just flew straight above the control tower of the Aris and towards the cloud. Another radio operator reported. “Aris confirms, eight successful launches! No errors!” If they weren’t in a battle, that would have called for a celebratory drink. Callaghan always kept a bottle by his desk just in case the ship began to sink.

“Four miles!” One man reported. “Bearing One-Seven-Two. Still coming straight at us.” Callaghan watched a pack of missiles head like bowling bowls towards that black mass in the air. Eight shooting stars across the ground. “Skyshredder hit in fifteen seconds!”

There was a count-down, Callaghan did not even pay attention to it as the entire ship went silent. Men looked through the windows as cameras zoomed in to record, data already streaming back to the Imperial Strategic Council. It would be live-feeds, maybe Iliyal was watching to see what sort of weaponry the Empire could produce. Two seconds before impact, the missiles exploded like budding flowers. From each came eight more. In total, sixty-four small rockets suddenly exploded in black clouds as black as pitch, darker than the grey seas and the dull skies. For a moment, Callaghan and everyone else held their breath.

And then that demonic force reappeared from the cloud. But instead of soaring towards the Imperial fleet, it was falling. Whether it was demons that had been killed by the explosion or the massive amount of shrapnel the skyshredders were designed to output, whether it was pieces of those demons that were falling and splashing into sea did not matter. What had been a mass so thick a few moments now became a few scattered spots like a flock of birds that raced in all directions. The bridge immediately exploded into a cheer at the glorious display and Captain Lecherie came over the staff comms again. “Fleet Admiral, I have sixteen missiles left. Do you want me to save them?”

“Save them.” Callaghan replied over the personal channel before leaning forward and shouting at the cheering bridge. “Fleet Comms! Bridge silence!” This time, it took longer for the cheering to die down. A dozen seconds maybe before Callaghan could issue the command. “Second Fleet light vessels, close in and engage with anti-air, First Fleet, keep us company. Heavy ships, return to shore bombardment, fire at will.”

Ninety-six hours.

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