The air was crisp at altitude, the kind of rare cold that tasted clean and sharp, like freshly-forged steel. As Elara stepped aboard the E.W.S. Sovereign, the flagship of the Skyborn Fleet, her boots clicked against the polished blacksteel of the upper deck. The entire crew stood at attention. Engineers in pristine uniforms, mages with glowing conduit cuffs, tactical officers standing in formation. And in front of them all, a tall woman in ceremonial fleet armor with blue-trimmed edges and an authoritative gaze: Fleet Admiral Ceris Marnelle.
"Welcome aboard, Lady Wyrmshade," she said with a salute that carried the weight of precision and pride. Her voice had the calm edge of a woman who'd seen war long before the current conflict. "We are ready for deployment."
Kael followed close behind Elara, her draconic eyes scanning the structure, the walls, the weapon ports hidden beneath sleek panels. The predator in her recognized the scale of power resting here, and for once, she looked more intrigued than bloodthirsty. The hallway walls were lined with enchanted silver threading, glimmering softly under the mana-powered lamps. Each corridor seemed to hum with potential energy.
Elara nodded to the admiral. "Initiate deployment. Bring the fleet to full lift. Begin cloak sequence."
"Aye, Mistress. All ships, ascend to deployment altitude. Activate runic cloaks. Formation Delta-Ark."
Within seconds, the air thrummed with rising energy. From the command bay's broadview windows, Elara watched as the other ships began to lift. Smoothly, silently. The curvature of each hull reflected the early morning light as they formed concentric layers around the Sovereign. One by one, as they reached altitude, each ship shimmered—then vanished entirely, their runes rendering them invisible to all but fleet beacons.
Kael stood beside her, arms crossed, eyes wide with something close to reverence.
"They disappear like whispers. But each one could level a mountain," she murmured. "I'm in love."
Elara smirked faintly. "They're not here to be admired. They're here to end this."
That night, the Sovereign reached a holding altitude above the clouds. Inside her quarters, Elara reviewed strategy documents with holographic projections, using a central arcane terminal. Kael paced silently, occasionally glancing at the maps.
"We'll be above the battlefield by noon tomorrow," Elara said softly. "We hit them hard. Show them what real firepower means."
Kael paused. "And if they start running before we fire?"
Elara looked up with cold certainty. "We fire anyway."
Nearly a day passed before the Sovereign drifted into range of the largest active frontline. Smoke already curled over the distant ridges. Mana fire crackled in the distance. The war was as alive and brutal as ever. But this time, the sky didn't belong to the enemy.
Inside the command chamber, Elara stood before the messenger crystal, projecting a real-time arcane feed of King Aldemar's face.
"Majesty," she said formally. "Operation Air Counter begins now."
The king, dressed in war-regalia, gave her a solemn nod. "May the skies shatter in our favor, Lady Wyrmshade."
She saluted. "They will."
Elara turned to Admiral Ceris. "Commence Alpha Strike. Full barrage. Target enemy central and reinforcement lines."
"Aye. All ships, Alpha Strike positions. Load Focus Arrays. Prepare firing conduits. Target synchronization in progress."
On the horizon, five other skyships appeared—just for a second, before they stabilized into visible status. Turrets began to emerge from their hulls, shifting with elegant menace into position. Long tubes of etched steel and arcane lattice turned with fluid grace, aligning toward the battlefield below.
Then silence.
Tiny runes along the turrets ignited, forming intricate patterns glowing with accumulated mana. They charged for three seconds. Then the weapons fired.
Lances of concentrated arcane energy erupted from the ships. Each beam curved slightly, adjusting to pre-mapped coordinates, carving perfect lines across the terrain. For a heartbeat, it was just light.
Then the world erupted.
The enemy front disintegrated in a series of deafening, cataclysmic explosions. Firestorms ripped through tents, siege engines were tossed like toys, defensive formations evaporated. The sheer scale of the blast silenced both sides. It was as if a god had dragged a brush of fire across the map.
Even hardened veterans in Elara's fleet stood breathless, awe-struck. Many had fought for years, but nothing in their experience had prepared them for the devastation unfolding before them. Some whispered prayers. Others laughed in shock.
Kael leaned close to Elara and whispered, "I didn't think even you would go this far."
"I didn't either," Elara replied. "But now I have."
After nearly five minutes of stillness, Elara exhaled slowly. "Advance. No survivors among the enemy formations. Clear the zone."
The skyships began to glide forward, silent as falling leaves, their mana cores humming with suppressed fury. Runes along their hulls pulsed in rhythm, ready to fire again.
POV: Unknown Soldier - Enemy Frontline
"Of course we're up here," the soldier muttered, adjusting his rust-colored gear. His companion chuckled grimly.
"Yeah, front-line honors. Lucky us."
They stood in a makeshift trench, wet from rain and blood. For weeks they'd heard rumors: the demoness, the death-hound, fire from the heavens. Propaganda, obviously. No one could do that. Right?
He spat. "If we don't stand here, who will? Better us than the green recruits."
"Still sucks."
A shadow moved across the ground.
The soldier frowned and looked up. "Now what, damn clouds again—"
He froze.
High above, slicing through the clouds like needles of divine judgment, hovered five impossible shapes. Long, sleek, etched with glowing blue lines. Like massive predators hunting from the sky.
Each one had fifteen long turrets that began to glow.
"What... what are those?"
No answer came.
Then the light expanded. And the world turned white.
In the last millisecond before his body was vaporized, the soldier understood.
The demoness wasn't a story.
She was real.
And she had brought the sky down with her.
Back aboard the Sovereign, Elara looked out the viewport as her fleet moved forward, casting enormous shadows over the scorched battlefield. For the first time in what felt like forever, she saw panic in the enemy's eyes—not desperation, not resolve. Panic.
She turned to the admiral. "Prepare Phase Two. We take the skies... and then the heartlands."
Kael grinned, fire flickering behind her eyes. "Let's finish what we started."