Chapter 1010 — Blizzard

He knew the age of the traditional nobility and of chivalry had passed; war now seemed a thing that stopped at nothing, and his own convictions had long since become a laughingstock to many — but let them laugh. In him, that glorious age had not yet ended; only when his life came to its close would it truly draw the curtain.

Besides, falling into a blizzard this terrible, those who had fled their flying machines could hardly survive, the few of them.

The cold wind shrieked from every direction; the flare of explosions and a pungent reek filled every sense. He swept his eyes over the surrounding battlefield, and his brows drew together despite himself.

Before today, no one had ever imagined such a scene.

Before today, no human nation had ever been able to sustain an air force of this kind.

For the first time he understood that the sky, too, could become a battlefield this savage; that vast armies could fight and slaughter so far from the earth; that a three-dimensional conflict now ruled this battle — and what lay behind that battle made this Typhon noble feel his very nerves quiver.

The Cecilians had flying machines in mass production; Typhon had superhumans and Miracle divine arts in mass production. These were two separate lines of development, and when they crossed by accident, the whole of human history would have to set aside enough pages to annotate it.

Around Claremont swirled the power of wind and thunder and lightning, of frost and flame; a surging vortex of elements draped itself behind him like vast wings. This was a strength he had never known in normal times. With an endless supply of magic feeding him, he had long since lost count of how many large-scale spells he had cast — spells enough to wring him dry. The enemy's numbers were falling, and so were their allies'; but such expenditure was worth it in the end. Gaps had opened in the Cecilians' air power, and now the assault teams could lay their powerful spells upon those two mobile fortresses.

Facts had proven that those overweening steel monsters were not so invulnerable after all.

"...Air power may well become the key that decides the battle; integrated ground-and-air operations may prove to be a certain trend..."

Claremont spread his hands wide and faced the Cecilians' anti-air barrage; his powerful barrier turned aside several blows that should have been fatal. He locked onto a flying machine and began trying to disrupt its energy cycle, and at the same time he triggered a powerful messaging spell, reporting what he saw through it as though talking to himself — this blizzard had not only failed to impair the messaging spell's effect, it had greatly extended every battle mage's communication range.

"...Flying units can't survive long in air combat, even with three lives apiece...

"Griffin knights and mid-rank battle mages are consumables here... many were shot down by anti-air fire from the ground...

"...The harsh light coming up from the ground has a great effect... the lights not only expose us, they disrupt sight and the perception of space... they're as effective as weapons..."

Far off, the anti-gravity ring of that flying machine suddenly erupted in a string of flashes, and the whole frame began to lurch unsteadily. Claremont's eyes narrowed slightly: he realized he had succeeded in disrupting the thing's power plant.

Based on what he had just observed, the machine's next move would be to divert most of its energy to its faltering anti-gravity system to stay airborne — which would turn it into a floating sitting duck.

Cremont raised both hands high, and a powerful arc of electricity took shape between them; but before he could release this lethal strike, a low, deep humming suddenly rushed toward him from the side at tremendous speed. A vast sense of crisis made him instantly change the direction of the discharge — even as he swept the arc out sideways, he violently stoked his invisible magical power and flung himself from where he stood.

The next second, a dense barrage of arcane missiles swept across the spot he had just occupied.

Cold sweat broke out all over Cremont. He turned to look toward the direction of the attack and saw, plain as day, an aircraft with pure black livery and even broader dragon-wing assemblies appear in his field of view.

Right after that, he noticed more of these craft emerging from the distant cloud layer — one after another, coming on with menacing force!

Cecil air support?!

"Enemy reinforcements have arrived!" he bellowed at once through the transmission spell. "Watch out for the black ones — their attacks are fiercer!

"Speed it up! Attack group, deal with the Cecil train — the Griffin Knight Order is to provide cover at all costs!"

A moment earlier, the dragoon formation had fallen into a desperate disadvantage: the Typhonians, their fighting strength enhanced as never before, together with the vicious snowstorm around them, had brought down one warplane after another, and the armored train on the ground looked perilously close to destruction. Now, at this moment, the sudden appearance of reinforcements finally checked the situation's slide toward the worse — the newly arrived black aircraft swiftly joined the battle and began a fight to the death with those Typhonians who had already descended into frenzy.

Amid the screaming barrage and beams, Cremont raised a powerful shield; even as he continuously altered his flight path to open distance from the black aircraft, he kept glancing back to unleash wide-ranging electric arcs that eroded his opponents' defenses. Several times he felt he had brushed past death — though in theory he still had three chances to gamble with the reaper, unless he had no choice at all, he did not wish to squander even one life here.

For once he died even once, the price of the "Miracle" would have to be paid.

One black warplane seemed to have decided he was this army's commander, and clung to him relentlessly. Cremont did not know how long he had been entangled with his pursuer, but at last, under the ceaseless attrition and chase, he seized an opportunity.

He dove into the cloud layer; under its cover he swiftly conjured great swaths of floating arcane spheres, then without hesitation burst out of the mist in another direction. What followed was exactly as he had expected: the black aircraft followed without a moment's hesitation, and the next second a continuous chain of exploding flashes tore that mass of iron-gray cloud apart.

Cremont halted in the air, staring hard toward the source of the explosions. In the smoke and firelight he saw the black shape come lurching out — it was riddled and battered, barely able to hold its flight attitude.

"Farewell," he said softly, then without hesitation raised his hand and swept it down; a mighty arc of electricity abruptly spanned the vast distance and tore that aircraft to pieces.

Then Cremont turned without a moment's hesitation, preparing to go to the aid of his comrades already locked in bitter fighting.

But a roar from behind cut short the high-ranking battle mage's movement: the roar shook the heavens, carrying a power that made living creatures feel dread by instinct, and when it sounded, Cremont even felt as though his heart had been seized in an invisible hand.

He did not know with what feelings he turned his head — as his gaze slowly shifted toward the source of the sound, the snowstorm around him seemed to congeal for a moment; the next instant, deep within that still-undissipated smoke and flame, he saw two hideous, almost terrifying figures tear through the cloud layer, and two cold, utterly hostile gazes fell upon him.

The Cecilans... had dragons.

(Naiqi's new book! "The Registry of All Realms" has been released — need I say more about the rest?)

(End of this chapter)