Elara's order was simple. The result was catastrophic.
BRRRRRRRRRRT.
The six Rotary Kinetic Cannons on the roof of the Spire spun up in unison. They didn't fire sci-fi lasers; they fired solid tungsten rounds at hypersonic speeds.
Thousands of tracers cut through the sky in searing orange lines, slamming into the purple magical shields protecting Prince Kaelen's aerial fleet.
In the sky, the clash looked like fireworks, but the sound was a continuous, deafening tear in the atmosphere.
Crack. Hiss. Ping.
At first, the magic held. The High Mages aboard the ships channeled their mana, creating hexagonal energy domes to absorb the kinetic impact. They were used to blocking arrows, ballista bolts, and fireballs.
But Old King technology had one advantage over magic: Rate of Fire.
A mage could cast one shield spell every few seconds. A rotary cannon fired three thousand rounds per minute.
"Hold the shield!" a panicked voice screamed over the radio frequency AURA had intercepted from the enemy comms. "The impact is too heavy! The crystals are overheating!"
On the left escort ship, The Wind-Dancer, the shield flickered. It couldn't dissipate the kinetic energy fast enough.
CRACK.
The purple barrier shattered like stained glass.
One bullet got through. Then ten. Then a thousand.
The tungsten rounds shredded the beautiful, polished Iron-Wood hull like it was paper. Brass fittings bent, wood splintered into deadly shrapnel, and the silk balloon sails above were torn into ribbons.
BOOM.
One of the rounds pierced the volatile Mana-Crystal storage in the ship's belly. The Wind-Dancer didn't just fall; it disintegrated in a spectacular ball of purple fire, sending burning debris raining down onto the desert below.
"One down," Elara muttered from the Spire balcony, her eyes glowing cold blue.
On the massive holographic projection in the sky, Prince Kaelen's face shifted from arrogance to shock, and then to rage.
"You think your metal toys can stop the Sky Fleet?" Kaelen screamed, his composure cracking. "Break formation! RELEASE THE WYVERNS!"
From the belly of the flagship Sunpiercer, hangar doors opened.
Hundreds of leathery-winged creatures poured out like a swarm of angry wasps.
Wyverns. Small, two-legged dragons ridden by elite Sky Knights. They were fast, agile, and much harder for the massive anti-air cannons to track than the slow, lumbering airships.
The Wyvern swarm dove toward the city, weaving through the tracer fire with acrobatic maneuvers. Fireballs began to rain down on the city's energy shield, splashing against the blue dome.
"WARNING," AURA announced. "TARGETS TOO FAST FOR MAIN BATTERIES. ACCURACY DROPPING TO 12%."
"Switch tactics," Elara commanded instantly. "The cannons are for the ships. For the pests... deploy The Swarm."
"ACTIVATING DEFENSE DRONES: MODEL 'HORNET'."
On Level 3, launch silo doors slid open.
Not birds, not dragons, but machines.
Five hundred combat drones, the size of eagles, launched into the sky. They were sleek, silver, and armed with laser cutters. They had no pilots to feel fear. They were controlled by a single mind: AURA.
The air war began.
The sky above the City of Glass Bones turned into a chaotic dance of biology versus technology. Wyverns breathed fire, melting drones into slag. Drones retaliated with precision, swarming the beasts, their lasers slicing through leathery wings and snapping bones.
Dragon blood and engine oil rained down on the city like a storm.
On the Spire balcony, Ciro tightened the magnetic straps on his chest. The thrusters of the Icarus Jump-Pack hummed against his back, vibrating through his spine.
"The party started without me," Ciro said, his black helmet reflecting the flashes of explosions above.
"Remember, Ciro," Elara warned without turning her head from the battle. "The prototype only has fuel for ten minutes of thrust. It's not a plane. It's a glorified rocket. Don't die stupidly."
"Ten minutes?" Ciro grinned behind his visor. "I only need five."
He stepped back, ran toward the edge of the balcony, and jumped.
For a second, he fell. Gravity pulled him down toward the distant city streets.
Then, he hit the trigger in his gauntlet.
FWOOSH.
The thrusters on his back flared blue. It wasn't graceful flight; it was a brutal, violent shove that launched Ciro upward like a missile.
"WOHOOOO!" Ciro shouted as the G-force slammed him.
He shot through the smoke clouds, straight into the center of the dogfight.
A Wyvern rider saw him—a man in black armor rocketing through the air without a mount.
"A flying man!" the Sky Knight shouted, pointing his enchanted lance. "Burn him!"
The Wyvern opened its maw, fire gathering in its throat.
Ciro didn't dodge. He used Air-Dash.
Side thrusters fired, slamming his body to the right violently. The Wyvern's fire breath missed, scorching empty air.
Ciro was now above the monster.
"Sorry, no fly zone," Ciro muttered.
He cut the engines, letting gravity take over. He dropped straight down onto the Wyvern's back, right behind the rider.
The knight turned, his eyes widening as he saw a black-armored demon crouching behind him on the saddle.
"What—"
SLASH.
Ciro's vibro-blade severed the knight's saddle straps and pushed him into the freefall.
The Wyvern panicked, spinning wildly, trying to buck its new passenger.
"Easy, ugly! I'm just using you as a stepping stone!"
Ciro dug his magnetic boots into the Wyvern's scales for grip. He looked up.
His real target wasn't the beasts. It was the second escort ship: The Iron-Heart.
It was flying the lowest, its mages firing magic bolts at the city gate to weaken the shield.
"Launch angle... confirmed," Ciro calculated.
He waited for the Wyvern to bank upward, then he fired his main thrusters again.
BOOM.
The force of his launch broke the Wyvern's spine. The beast plummeted, but Ciro soared upward, a black bullet aimed at the airship.
He cleared the railing of the ship's deck by inches.
THUMP.
Ciro landed hard on the polished wooden deck of The Iron-Heart. The wood cracked under his magnetic boots. He skidded to a halt, blue smoke venting from his back, his heat sinks hissing.
In front of him, twenty Sky Knights and Battle-Mages stopped firing. They turned around, staring at Ciro in confusion.
A man in black armor, alone, had just fallen from the sky onto their ship.
Ciro stood up slowly. He drew both high-frequency energy daggers. They hummed with a menacing, insect-like buzz.
His black glass helmet stared at the enemy line without emotion.
"Good afternoon, gentlemen," Ciro's modulated voice growled, deeper than a grave. "I'm the boarding party."
The Captain of the Knights drew his glowing sword. "Kill him! He's just one man!"
Ciro smiled behind the mask.
In the open air, he was just a target. But on the cluttered deck of a ship? In close quarters?
He wasn't a soldier. He was the Shadow Commander.
And the slaughter had just begun.