Out Of Space - Chapter 635

Prince Najja was feeling left out and confused as he remained seated on the command throne. Before him, the bridge crew of the Iron Regent was busy at their stations while the senior officers and commanders were gathered around the map table with constant aides rushing back and fore between the signalers and communication mages.

He kept a jealous eye on his royal brother who at first stood at the side but gradually became part of the command staff, helping the older general control a portion of the battle. But yet, no matter how he tried to make sense of the situation on both the map and viewing crystal of the battle, he couldn’t understand anything.

The command staff were moving tokens and markers here and there while calling out orders to the runners. It dropped his self esteem and he wanted to ask questions but he had enough sense to keep quiet as the command staff had either the time or the mind to reply as he knew that each command involves the lives of hundreds and thousands of people and breaking their concentrate could make them lose the battle.

So he could only sit stiffly in the chair and watched the tense atmosphere of the bridge and the battle that was raging in the distance. Without anyone commenting or describing the action, he could only try to guess what was going on without falling asleep on the chair.

—–

The once cloudless morning skies over Hasta County was now dotted with numerous balls of grey white clouds and dark dots. Airships both bearing the crimson colours of the Protectorate and the blue grey colours of the Iron Kingdom clashed across a massive stretch of the skies.

Steam cannons fired with a sharp hiss pop and the super heated gas was rapidly cooled down by the cold air before small tendrils of dirty white clouds were formed. Rumble of thunder and lightning could see heard and seen as the air was ionized by the fighting ships’ magical barriers rubbing against the air.

Two opposing airships came so close to one and another that their magical barriers barely a hand span away causing arcs of lightning to be seen snaking between the barriers of the two ships. But none of the crew cared as they served their weapons and screamed orders, each side trying to kill the other even the hand on their bodies stood up from the amount of static electricity in the air.

All across the skies, ships of both sides could be seen dropping out of formation, the columns of steam, aetherium and smoke making their fall as they crashed onto the fertile fields. And on the ground, the defences of the Hasta Castle were pointed to the air, but they could not fire into the melee for fear of hitting their own. Instead, the steam cannons on the ground could only target the tail end of the Protectorate formation without much effect due to the distance.

Much of the county’s soldiers and militia had fallen back to the Hasta Castle where the seat of governance for the region was located. Dozens of War Jacks and counter siege weapons were laid covered under earthen bunkers to protect them from aerial bombardments, waiting for the evident coming of the Protectorate ground forces.

Despite the fear in the air. the defenders continued to toil, water from the rivers was diverted into holding tanks for the steam boilers, heavy projectiles were carted out from underground storage and soldiers stripped down to their trousers held massive spanners and tightened bolts to prevent steam from escaping the tanks and pipes.

The Iron Lord of Hasta could only helpless clench his fists as he watched the battle in the skies. At least half of his lands had been put to the torch by the Protectorate as the ground forces of the Protectorate that had been airlifted across the mountain border marched towards his castle. He knew if the battle in the air was lost, his remaining defenders would be helpless against the Protectorate ground forces that were a day or two behind.

He started wondering if he should take his family and flee now.

—–

“Order Squadron Six, Seven and Nine to converge at this point! They are not to allow the Protectorate ships to advance!” Sky General Bundberg snapped as he looked at the constantly changing map. Markers and counters representing both sides were centred at the one area of the map, with stands of various heights to indicate their altitude. “I want Fast Attack Squadron Two and Three to go higher! They are to harass the enemy’s flank from the top side while they are distracted with the battle line!”

The runner nodded as he scribbled rapidly on a piece of torn parchment and ran off to the signalers and communication mages to relay the general’s command. Sky General Bundberg turned to the crystal viewer where several slightly blurry views of the battle could be seen.

As he watched on, a group of airships that were hanging back from the main battle line slowly dressed its formation before gaining acceleration. The two fast attack squadrons consisting of patrol craft and light destroyers rose up above the Protectorate’s formation before slashing down over the Protectorate’s flanks.

Puffs of white clouds appeared in a line as the fast attack squadron swooped in and released their steam cannons over the top of the Protectorate ships. As they broke away from the harassing attack, a group of Protectorate ships rose up to challenge them but the smaller faster ships soon broke contact as they raced out of range of the enemies’ guns.

“Now! Squadron Fifteen, Sixteen and Seventeen are to focus on that group!” Prince Herod suddenly yelled out as he leaned over the map while pointing to the crystal viewer. “Do not let that group rejoin the formation!”

A runner hurried off to pass on his command. Sky General Bundberg nodded inwardly thinking that he did not make a mistake in allowing the Third Prince to take command of a portion of the fleet. He glanced over to the Crown Prince who was sulking away on the command throne and sighed softly before turning his attention back to the battle.

The three cruiser squadrons under the Third Prince’s command responded sluggishly at first, as the communications lag from signal flares and flags had to be relayed by the brave little courier ships charging into the thick of the battle to display the coded flags and signals across to the ships’ observers. Not all ships come crewed with a communication mage as they were becoming increasingly rare, like magic in general, despite all royal efforts in training and grooming them. What little amount of trained communications mages could only be assigned to important posts or locations.

Nine Penal class heavy cruisers, the most commonly seen warship of the Protectorate air military was currently out of formation, rising above the battle line out attempt to chase away the Iron Kingdom’s fast attack squadrons of destroyers and frigates was soon locked by Sixteen Anvil class heavy cruisers and seven Hammer class light cruisers under Prince Herod’s command.

648 steam cannons pointed towards that patch of sky occupied by the nine Protectorate heavy cruisers, went off in tandem and that particular patch of sky was soon filled with 648 mushroom projectiles and rainbow flashes from the Protectorate ships’ magical barrier could be seen.

Suddenly as if like a signal, more and more of the Iron Kingdom’s battle line turned their steam cannons at the out of position Protectorate ships. 648 projectiles soon turned to 840, then 1260 and continued to climb. Under the heavy barrage, even with overlapping their magical barriers to withstand the bombardment, the nine Penal class heavy cruisers’ defences were quickly overwhelmed.

Soon pieces of armour started falling off, followed by ruptured steam and aetherium gases before entire ships started falling off the skies. However, it was a small victory as the Protectorate still outnumbered the Iron Kingdom at least five to one and they were able to take such casualties.

“We won did we?” Prince Najja mumbled as he stared at the viewing crystals. “We won, yes?”

“No!” Sky General Bundberg frowned at the sudden interruption that broke his thoughts. “This loss is nothing to them.”

“I noticed that they are using old ships in the forward lines…” Prince Herod said as he pointed to the markers on the map. Both sides had formed a wall in the air, ships arranged staggered on top of each other and trading fire at their opponents. The staggered formation allowed ships that lost aerial buoyancy to fall through the formation without crashing on top of each other or giving ships more time to respond.

Sky General Bundberg nodded in agreement, “They are using their old ships to deplete our strength before bringing their newer ships forward…”

“At this rate, we will not be able to sustain our magical barriers…” Prince Herod frowned. “Even with all the magic crystal reserves, I brought along… It won’t last once the Protectorate send their main battle fleet forward…”

“W- Wait!” Prince Najja blinked rapidly as he injected him into the conversation. “T- This is not the main battle fleet?”

Both the Sky General and Prince Herod turned and looked at him with a hint of pity in their eyes and said together at the same time, “No…”

—–

The Old World, Iron Kingdom, Rashard Military Outpost

“An na no to yo shan ni wor to ka e…” Magistar Thorn intoned with his eyes closed as he stood over the compass on the table while holding a large pair of mana stones that were larger than his fists in each hand. A lock of pink golden hair was placed in the middle of a small magical formation with rune words drawn in a circular format. An eerie purple glow lit up the rune words and the lock of pink golden hair suddenly wiggled before turning into smoke that drifted up unnaturally.

The smoke tendrils coiled around the air and like with a life of its own, it snaked across the air and entered the compass causing the needles to spin wildly. “NE TA TO E WOR CAE!”

Magister Thorn’s shoulder’s slumped down tired as he wiped the sweat off his face. His sweat strained robes stuck to his skinny frame uncomfortably and he dusted his hands clean from the crumbled rock dust from the depleted mana stones. “It’s done.”

“That was amazing!” The two dwarvans on the side watched the magic ritual were both shocked and impressed. “We haven’t seen magic being used this way for ages!”

In fact, many of the crew that had gathered in the hangar to watch Magister Thorn perform the magical ritual was impressed and excited. The goblins and Orekins were torn halfway between their faith of firepower and magic and were arguing amongst themselves on with was more superior.

Dr. Sharon handed a towel over to Magister Thorn who thanked her and accepted a cup of iced water from a grinning Professor Hamlot. She bent over the compass and saw the two needles were pointing in one particular direction and she asked while pointing to the compass. “Is this the direction she is at?”

Blake stood silently as he stared at the compass while Magister Thorn replied, “That would be so if I presume from the texts.”

Trism helpfully brought over a map and he set it on the table and quickly charted out an estimation of their position and the direction the compass was pointing to. “We need to head in a north west west… Wait… If we continue on this course…”

Blake let out a deep breath he was holding in and he tapped on the map and cut off Trism’s words, “We will pass by the current battle between the Protectorate and the Iron Kingdom here…”

“But this doesn’t make any sense…” Dr. Sharon said. “At this heading, either Sherene is in the Iron Kingdom… Or she is at the far western ocean border of the Protectorate…”

“Either way,” Blake picked up the compass carefully and said, “We just have to follow in the direction pointed by this compass.”

“It is now our only clue now to find where Sherene is!”