Chapter 157: The Iron Armada
The clouds above the Jagged Peaks parted not from the wind, but from the sheer mechanical force of the Velkrath Imperium.
I stood at the prow of the flagship, the Aegis Prime. It was a colossal, heavily armored steampunk gunship.
Four massive runic propellers kept the black iron hull suspended in the air, while thick steam stacks vented pure kinetic exhaust into the freezing mountain sky.
Flanking my flagship were a dozen smaller artillery cruisers, their hulls bristling with heavy, auto-loading mana cannons.
Down below, nestled in a deep, treacherous valley, was the Orc Purist war camp. It was a primitive sprawl of animal skin tents, wooden barricades, and crude fighting pits.
"They thought the mountains would hide them," Silas noted coldly. The Chief Inquisitor stood beside me on the deck, looking down through a brass spyglass.
"They have no anti-air defenses. Just bows and thrown spears."
