The Bernardian aircraft thundered low over the sea, their engines ripping through the storm like iron beasts. Their radars painted the horizon with hostile markers, but their eyes were locked on the target: the Vosha, Indiana's colossal Nagaratha-class carrier.
Unlike any modern vessel, Vosha was a hybrid of ancient and arcane design—its wooden hull reinforced with enchanted steel, its decks crowded with siege towers, ritual circles, and rows of tethered flying beasts. Smoke curled from its chimneys, runes flickered across its planks, and hundreds of crew stood ready with bows, ballistae, and spellbooks.
The Bernard pilots had trained for years, but few had imagined this scene: a city-class ship fused with sorcery, bearing down on them like a floating fortress.
"Sword-One to all wings, target is Vosha. Ignore escorts. Punch through and hit her towers before they activate barriers."
Commander Hartmann's order was sharp and immediate.
