Bring bullions to markets. Bring masterpieces to common shows. Bring passion to love. Bring disdain to hatred. Bring Divinity to mortals. Bring void to the dark. Bring radiance to the light. Bring virility to health. Bring plague to illness. Bring armies to duels. Bring superpowers to powers. Bring bloodshed to brawls. Bring hyperviolence to violence. Bring the Empire to Arda and bring Arda across the stars.

Do not ask for permission to speed up and do not slow down, not until the rage of those before you becomes begging to slow down, and not until the begging is replaced by the thunder of the silence that comes after.

– Excerpt from the “Imperial Statehood Discussions.” This part is credited to Goddess Irinika, of Darkness.

Callaghan finally took his eyes off Emperor Arascus and standing on the bow of the Kassandora. The God had refused entry into the cargo holds and the ship, even though it was the grandest vessel in the entire Imperial fleet, did not have hallways large enough for any Divine much greater than a spirit. A being such as Arascus would not fit unless he planned to crawl through the maze of tunnel-like corridors that permeated the floating steel mountain.

So instead, he had taken quite possibly the worst, and maybe the most inspiring position on the whole ship. Right at the start, the man stood with a magnanimous red cape on his back. Even though it was weighed down by thick fur all across its edges, it still fluttered in the tumultuous winds of the Eparika. Now, even more so as the pack of Imperial ships of the Salvation Squadron slowly sailed south and made the final adjustments. Funnily enough, this was the most important part of the entire mission, which was aligning the five vessels so that they were spread out as to stay within distance of each other’s short wave radio and still pointed south.

Only the Kassandora would be on a collision course with Anghazi, the Zawitz and the Kaczaw to her starboard would stay to the west, the Hallin and the Gnydia would stay on the east. If any ship was thrown off course during penetration through the Ashfront, then they should be able to reorientate themselves back on the over side when they joined forces once again.

And no one knew exactly what the seas through the Ashfront would be like. Callaghan took a deep breath as his navigator spoke up. “We are on a straight line to Anghazi!” That was the call to action. There was nothing that could delay them at this point. Even an accidental ammunition explosion to call it off would be a welcome sight.

Callaghan slowly put his headset to his ear and spoke into microphone. “This is Fleet Admiral Callaghan to the Salvation Squadron.” He took a deep breath. “We are ready to go, all ships.” He held a pause. Shooting a man in the frantic chaos of a battle was one thing, executing a defeated foe as you looked at the back of his head was another. Callaghan felt as if he was executing every man in his fleet. “Full speed ahead.”

Olonia clambered to the roof, or roof as it was now, of the ruined governor’s office. It was only one of the floors that still stood, but the ruined walls provided enough cover for men to lie down behind and still be able to see over most of the city buried in ash. It was dark, as always, no flashlights were permitted here either to make sure that no attention was drawn from the distance. Even a cigarette was a beacon in these lands. “I got a call.” Olonia said.

“In the distance.” One of her soldiers replied, the man was leaning on the ground, a rifle in his hands. He didn’t have to indicate or point or even speak for Olonia to notice. By the time he was done, Olonia was already looking at the hills in the distance from the direction the One-Seventeenth had come in. A single cigarette was a lighthouse in these lands.

The zenith of that dune had an outline of orange flames.

A horizon of orange, red and purple flames that seemingly burned on nothing. Lightning that cackled upwards as often as it did downwards, or even sideways along the shifting wall of destruction’s terrible colours in the distance. The majestic and tranquil Eparika, now looking as if it had been turned to a flowing flush of volcanic refuse that pretended to be a sea. A sky already clouded, not by nature’s rains or storms but by a mucus which was a warm parody of snowfall.

Callaghan stared through the Kassandora’s windows as waves the Imperial flagship cut a line through the waters. Behind it, the thin layer of floating ash slowly began to eat away at its trail. And ahead, his majestic Arda was being devoured. From one edge of the horizon to another, the cliff that was Ashfront rumbled an orchestra of destruction. He had seen it before, from the distance and from photos, but never this close. Never with the front of his ship pointed straight at it.

No one in the bridge said a word. Every no doubt thought the exact thing: To turn tail and run, to flee no matter what happened. To escape from their duties in fear for their lives. They would have none of it. Callaghan’s eyes looked at Arascus for a moment. The God of Pride stood at the bow of the ship like a statue. He did not even shiver or turn back as waves of the dark ocean crashed upon the Kassandora’s bow and splashed over him. He did not run. Callaghan would not run. Neither would the men. The Fleet Admiral brought the microphone to his mouth and gave the order. “Raise shields and maintain course.”

At the back of the ship, the four mages brought in from Arcadia raised their hands, each one with a staff in their hands as they pointed to the four huge gemstones that had been melded into the ship’s hull. Those gemstones began to whine, fires within them burst alive, four beacons half submerged into the steel began to glow. The veins that Elassa had installed into the ship began to light up light like neon lights, each one a deep, dark, blue.

Callaghan watched patterns emerge on the ship’s deck. He saw the runes crafted on top of the Kassandora’s massive guns. The tiny trails that swirled around its barrels. It was all around the ship, from its spinning rudders in the back to the armour on its sides, all the way to up the control tower as power emanated from them.

One burst of energy around the ship made trails in the ocean. A second stopped the ash falling down upon from the sky. The third calmed the black waves, they now crashed upon an invisible force that made a bubble of solid energy around the ship. The fourth painted the world in a deep blue hue.

And the Kassandora sailed onwards towards apocalypse.

Olonia swung her blade a few times. The huge rifle had ran out of ammunition finally and her fingers were too large to play with the rifles that had been given to the men. Tanit did the same with her spear as the pair of Goddesses waited in the streets in Anghazi’s westernmost quarter. Of Lubska raised her torch and pointed it towards the approaching flames. Her finger steadied over the switch for a moment.

No more time was to be wasted. She flicked the flashlight on and off and on and off again. Behind her, a green flare was fired upwards, towards the enemy ranks. Then another. And another. More and more until they managed to bring about a sickly resemblance of daytime back to the skyless skies. The orders had been given and the orders had been simple: Fire at will, give them everything you have, spare no round.

Anghazi, the One-Seventeenth within the city and the survivors who had managed to scavenge their way through Ashen Skies, opened fire. They had no tanks, no emplacements, no mortars, no support, yet as many windows still stand, through every doorway that had a sightline, from every roof or from behind every ruined wall, a gun barrel poked out to bring as many of the horde as could be done.

It was obvious from the beginning. For every demon that fell down, two more took its place.

Callaghan thought of closing his eyes as the Kassandora surged forwards that huge wall. His future self would not forgive him for the moment if he did. The floating sludge on the waters, a mixture of everything sickly that came from Tartarus’ filthy atmosphere, was being physically pushed and building up along the bottom of the Kassandora’s blue shield. He held his breath, half-expecting that wall of ash and fire and winds to be solid. At full speed, the battleship would crush itself with its own momentum if they were driving themselves into a wall.

They connected. A column of swirling flames, half submerged in ash, was the first to touch the Kassandora’s shields. The orbs in the rear began to glow brighter as the world outside became tinted with an even stronger blue. More mages were brought out, the ship’s own crew, to support the Arcadian lot as they managed the outflow of power from their batteries. Callaghan felt his hands tighten on the edge of his captain’s desk as unconsciously prepared for impact.

No impact came. No great explosion. No awesome crash. Nothing. The Ashfront simply gave way as the Kassandora pushed onwards. Fires splashed across the shield, ash flooded down upon it, lightning streaked over its surface, black ocean waves smashed and splashed against its sides. Droplets of water were incinerated immediately by the blazing temperature of the ash. Callaghan, still holding his breath, looked up at the sheer darkness as it covered the shield’s peak.

He finally let himself breath again when he saw Arascus standing on the ship’s bow, still a statue, his uniform still dripping with seawater, his cape no longer swirling in the wind. They were in.

Five ships disappeared into the Ashfront.

Olonia raised her blade, took a step forward and slashed a demon’s head clean off. She kept going with the swing, pushing another foot ahead and bringing her free hand down in a slam onto a legionnaire’s black helmet. The metal crumpled, the demon dropped as she lost track of the battle around her. Snakes of sand brought forth by Tanit were rising out of the ash-covered ground to swallow demons and bring them deep underneath the surface. Gunfire rained down upon the horde from the edge of the city. Green flares were still continuously being fired to make sure that there was always one light in the sky.

And Olonia danced in the way she had been trained. Her sword slashed and chopped through an arm, her elbow caught a throat, her kicks broke ribs. The ancient judges of duels would have panic attacks seeing her. Kavaa and Iliyal would both just smile and nod at the sheer efficiency of it. Not a second was wasted standing in one spot, not one quarter was given. Even with the enemy on all sides, she kept on pushing through a circle, keeping up the initiative.

The glint of red light caught her eyes. Her eyes glanced up to see, then looked back down just in time to parry a spear that was being thrust towards her stomach. She had caught it anyway. A red flare. The signal that a garrison had made contact and was being overwhelmed.

If the Kassandora did not have any automatic recording equipment, then no recordings would be taken. Callaghan could barely move his legs as he looked up at the sheer black pitch that threatened to crush the Kassandora’s blue shields and annihilate everything within them. Every few moments, it would be disturbed by another streak of lightning that had found the battleship. By a red and orange hurricane that passed over them. By an explosion of fire brought on seemingly from nowhere. The waters around the ship bubbled and steamed with heat that built up at the top of the shield, then dripped back down only to steam and hiss again.

Not one member of the bridge so much as said a word as they looked up towards the sheer darkness of the apocalypse’s rage around them. Not a whisper, not a joke to break the tension, Callaghan could not even bring his own mind to stray to the idea of telling them to get to work as he silently said a prayer to Elassa that her power was enough.

Another wave crashed upon the shield’s side, it did not even splash back down. A raging tornado passed over them, drifting over the shield and leaving it pulsing a deeper blue for a moment as the magicians in the released even more magic from the set of four batteries. Lightning once again came at them, from straight ahead this time. It scattered into a blinding spiderweb across the shield. And it was wiped away by the pitch black darkness. That lasted for less than an instant, another crash. Even the thunder from overhead could be heard right now, the rapid firing of cracking lightning, it crashed as if trying to parody one of the ship’s own automatic cannons. From below, the ocean rumbled once again.

The Kassandora, its engines roaring, its magic hissing, its crew silent, pierced the Ashfront.

“Fall back!” Olonia shouted as Tanit burst through the next demon to her. The Goddess of Lubska grabbed another demon and threw it back. Its body soared through the air back into the enemy ranks, hopefully the sheer weight of that armour would crush at least another enemy. The Goddess of Ibya raised her hands and the sands hidden under the ground burst upwards in a series of explosions, clearing the rest of the road. “Fall back Tanit!” Olonia shouted. “We need a tighter area! We can’t hold here! Fall back!”

Another red flare launched into the sky, from the city’s south this time. Another garrison that had been overwhelmed.

Five floating steel fortresses emerged out of a wall that extended from horizon to horizon and reached up to the clouds. They cut through waters, adorned in blue veins that formed runes and patterns and flowing circles across every inch of the outside. Spotlights in all directions were finally turned on, to make them into moving lighthouses, each one carrying the arsenal of an entirely artillery company. They illuminated the lifeless ocean about them, its waves pushed down into gentle rolls by the sheer amount of ash resting upon its surface. Five silhouettes, behind them, the wall of flame and lightning and swirling ash that rushed ahead without slowing down. Five steel fortresses upon which ash fell like warm snow, that cut through resting sludge on the surface as if they were icebreakers as they rushed to bring salvation to a Goddess.

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep