The Storm King

Leon strode into the destroyer he’d liberated from Sunlit’s control followed by a number of his subordinates. The destroyer was large enough to carry a significant number of people, so long as they didn’t care too much about comfort—and given how far they’d be going, comfort wasn’t a large priority. So, Leon’s entire retinue and a company of one hundred Tempest Knights accompanied him on board. The rest of his Tempest Knights were being distributed around other arks or would otherwise follow under their own power.

Their destination was the front lines where the Jaguar and much of the rest of the command staff were. They’d succeeded in repelling Sunlit’s assault on the western tip of their defensive line, but Iron-Striker had been defeated in battle and taken prisoner.

And they had to get him back.

However, just reaching the front lines would take a few hours, and Leon needed something to do to calm his seething rage, so he made his way first to the bridge to check up on Anshu and the rest of the destroyer’s new command staff.

Once he walked in, Anshu himself stood and saluted, but everyone else went about their business. Leon didn’t mind and smilingly had Anshu stand down. He spent a few minutes in there, speaking with everyone about how they were doing getting used to their new vessel, and for the most part, everyone was absolutely ecstatic. The Thunderbird ark blew all other arks built by the Ten Tribes completely out of the water—or the sky, as it were. With the wisp helping them to acclimate and bring unused systems online, the capabilities of the craft were increasing practically by the hour.

In that respect, Anshu informed Leon that the destroyer had been used quite inefficiently. Many defensive and offensive systems simply hadn’t been used, otherwise, Anshu argued, the destroyer would’ve been used much more aggressively than it would’ve.

Leon was quite happy with these assessments and almost began salivating as Anshu elaborated on the ark’s recently activated systems, his rage momentarily forgotten with this new toy in hand.

Firstly, the ark’s defensive systems had already been showcased in their escape from the Sunlit fortress—the ark had functions not unlike the shield of light that Leon’s former ark had used. This one, however, covered the ark much better and was much more efficient, wrapping around it like a cloak instead of a white shell. In addition to being stronger than the shell, it only activated to repel incoming threats, meaning they could turn the system on and let it run without fear of the power requirements.

Secondly, the two Lances that acted as the ark’s front-facing weapons were only its secondary weapons, with another one buried deep in the ark’s superstructure, this one based on light magic instead of fire or lightning. If they managed to get it activated—which Anshu and his crew had been trying and failing to do so far—it would make the fire artillery that the Ravens had been testing during Leon’s visit look like a thrown match.

Anshu admitted to some exaggeration in that explanation, but he reiterated that it promised to be a powerful weapon.

Thirdly, the ark’s engines were extraordinarily powerful. The Sunlit crew had only been operating it at a quarter of its capacity, which was all they could use with the ark so locked down, and even that had only been achieved with some power bypasses that practically mutilated some of the destroyer’s internal structure. Anshu and the rest of the crew had been focused on repairing that damage now that it was no longer needed. Already they had managed to increase the engines’ power to fifty percent of its capacity.

Finally, Anshu came to the ark’s power systems. For the most part, magic power on Aeterna was channeled into a gemstone by a mage, and that gemstone would then be used to power the enchantments in question. The destroyer had just such a crystal and a place for mages to charge it up during flight, but it also had other systems for acquiring power, including generation, something that was unprecedented on Aeterna. Power could be absorbed from the environment—and the ark did have the capability to do that to augment its power supply—but that magic power was generally assumed to have been produced in a mage’s bone marrow and then leaked out into the atmosphere through the mage’s aura, or more direct uses of their magic.

This ark, however, had a massive device that generated magic power on its own. Unfortunately, the generator wasn’t in active use, and Anshu’s crew was busy trying to get it turned on. There were quite a few other systems that weren’t operating that required greater amounts of magic power, but until that generator came online, Anshu wasn’t comfortable recommending that Leon turn any of those other systems on, yet.

And those systems included those that allowed the ark to safely travel through the Void.

Leon could hardly stop himself from grinning when he heard that.

Aside from all that, Anshu also informed Leon that they were getting the ark’s communication systems synced up with the Ten Tribes’ comm stones. The comm lotuses would be more difficult, though, and would likely have to wait until Nestor or the higher-ups in the Raven Tribe could take a look.

Once he finished speaking with Anshu, he made his way to his next destination: the wisp chamber. All arks and large, heavily enchanted Thunderbird Clan facilities had wisps to aid in the operation of the facility’s enchantments. Wisps were especially required on arks that traversed the Void given the sheer complexity of the enchantments involved.

When Leon walked into the wisp chamber, he found that the destroyer likely had a ‘crew’ of six wisps, if the consoles around the room with large sapphires set in the center of each one. Five of those gemstones, however, were dull and dark, while the last glimmered with internal light. It also happened to be the largest sapphire set into the largest and most centrally-located console.

As Leon walked in, the only remaining wisp in the ark appeared in front of him as a ball of light.

“Welcome, Prince Demetrios,” the wisp said.

“Yes, Demetrios,” Leon replied with some hesitation as he shut the door behind him and walked further into the room. “By any chance, is there a way I can change the ownership of an issued ID?”

The wisp replied, “New IDs, if needed, can be printed on the order of His Highest Majesty, the Storm King.”

Leon slowly nodded. For the moment, he decided to roll with the wisp’s identification, for the time being. He doubted he’d be getting a platinum card of his own unless and until he managed to get to the palace complex his Clan had occupied on this plane, now located deep in the east, in the lands controlled by the Sentinels and the Keeper.

‘Well, I’d have to go there for Nestor’s wisp and golem tools anyway, just another thing to add to the list.’

“What is the status of this vessel?” Leon asked the wisp.

The wisp replied with much of what Anshu had told him but went into greater detail regarding the current state of the ark’s systems—though not as much about the power generator as Leon would’ve liked, for that system had needed a wisp just for itself to control, and the main wisp didn’t have much additional information on the generator that hadn’t already been shared with Anshu. For the most part, Leon didn’t learn anything new from it, but he was informed that many of the ark’s systems, such as its ability to travel through the Void, would require other wisps to aid in controlling the ark’s enchantments. So, even if they managed to fully restore the ark, it would need other wisps.

‘… Or will it?’ Leon wondered as he glanced around at the chamber’s five empty sapphires. ‘The stone giants are descended from wisps, aren’t they…?’

It wasn’t the first time he’d considered such a thing, but it certainly cemented in his mind the conviction to return one more time to the Crater Tribe in the north, and this time, he’d be asking the stone giants to accompany him south. He’d be asking them to join his new Kingdom.

Leon continued to speak with the wisp about the ark’s specific capabilities and the enchantments and magical engineering that provided those capabilities, but too soon, the ark arrived at its destination. Leon was forced to put aside his desire to continue the technical conversation about enchantments to tend to the pressing business of war…

---

“… Iron-Striker has been taken north, all the way to the center of Imperial operations on the northern tip of the island,” the woman leading the briefing said to the room, indicating the place on the map projected over the central table.

The woman was a sixth-tier Rock Mane Bison named Lana, and she had one of the most impressive physiques Leon had ever seen. Her body was practically rippling with muscles. Combined with her imposing near-six-foot frame, she certainly embodied the strength that her Tribe was known for.

She was also the daughter of Tillan, the Rock Mane Bison’s ninth-tier Lawspeaker. She’d joined Leon’s party on the operation that saw the defeat of Hector’s rebellion.

“The enemy fleets have retreated along with their flagship,” Lana continued. “Continued enemy naval presence this far south has been from the Pegasi States, not from the Sunlit Empire. But those ships, inferior as they are to our own, are being covered by the Imperial ark fleet, which didn’t retreat along with their ships.”

Leon lightly frowned. The Pegasi fleet, as weak as each individual ship was compared to the Tribal ships, was quite large. The Pegasi States had been some of the most preferred targets for seaborne threats of all kinds, from pirates to Tribal raiding parties, so they’d invested heavily in their fleets.

Consequently, no power other than the Empires could compare in terms of naval might, and even then, Leon suspected only the Sunlit Empire could truly do that, given how far inland the other Empires were. Only Ilion had any kind of direct route to the sea, and even that required moving along an incredibly long westward course through the Ilumerian Wetlands.

“So, to recover Iron-Striker,” Leon summarized, “we’re going to have to fight our way to Sunlit’s base in the north—heavily fortified by now—and seize the settlement without Sunlit managing to escape with his prisoner back to his Empire.”

That was a tall order. Trapping Sunlit in his base would require a combined attack from the land, sea, and likely air, and with the sheer amount of force facing them, he wasn’t sure that was possible. Sunlit’s forces were being reinforced just as his own were, and already the Emperor likely had more than a million soldiers on the island. His naval losses from the first battle after Leon’s arrival were probably replenished, though Leon was sure his lost arks hadn’t been.

Not that his lost war arks could be so easily replaced, either…

“No matter what, he has to be removed from the barbarians’ hands,” Menander growled. From the moment Leon arrived at the forward base, he’d known that Menander had been beyond furious, but that much was understandable—Creon, one of his Tribes’ ninth-tier mages, had been killed in the opening phase of Sunlit’s recent offensive, and his Tribe had borne the lion’s share of losses sustained.

“Iron-Striker,” Menander continued, “knows us too well. If that Imperial jackal gets any information out of him, it could be disastrous.”

“I doubt he’d break under pressure,” Leon argued. “He’s tenth-tier.”

Menander grunted and said no more, but the Jaguar after a moment said, “I… I’ve had my problems with the man in the past. That much is hardly news to anyone. But… I agree with our King. Rescuing Iron-Striker must be made a priority. As our only tenth-tier mage—”

“For now,” another ninth-tier Jaguar said with a knowing look sent Leon’s way.

“For now,” the Jaguar conceded, “—he represents one of our greatest strategic assets.”

“He lost to that jackal,” Menander said. “He has proven himself weak. We will kill our enemies, of that there is no doubt, but if he wishes to regain his estimation in my eyes, he should escape on his own.”

Leon slammed a fist down on the table, nearly shattering the thing entirely and disturbing enough of it that the projected map sputtered and disappeared. He then made eye contact first with Menander, glaring at the Lion with such intensity that the beast of a man seemed to shrink down into his seat, and then cast his gaze about the room, making sure that he looked every one of the command staff in the eye.

“I don’t care who it is,” he severely stated. “If any of our people have been captured, their rescue will be made a priority. Not a single man or woman will be left behind, nor will any be conceded to the enemy to rot in their prison—if they’re lucky. That goes for all of you and that goes for the lowliest mortal who might serve in my Kingdom. All are equally valuable and will have resources devoted to their release. That is the end of discussion on the matter. I will hear no more of it.”

He paused a moment to allow anyone who wished to try his patience to do so. The room remained silent.

“Good,” Leon continued as he relaxed his tone. “Now that we’re all on the same page—that Iron-Striker must be rescued—let’s proceed with that priority in mind. Lana, if you—”

Before he could finish, a knock came at the meeting room’s door. Everyone went silent as Lana went to answer it, revealing a fourth-tier Tribesmen standing at rigid attention.

“A barbarian has arrived under a banner of truce,” he announced to the room. “He claims to bear a message for our leader.” His eyes drifted in Leon’s direction, but he seemed almost terrified to directly make eye contact with him.

“What?” the Jaguar said disbelievingly.

“No barbarian comes with offers of truce,” Menander declared. “They only come with intent to kill or deceive! This one should’ve been killed on sight! Boy! Explain what happened! Immediately!”

The fourth-tier Tribesmen—lacking a bloodline as far as Leon could tell, though from his appearance he seemed to be from the Tiger Tribe—nearly jumped out of his skin. Before he could speak, Leon walked over, clapped him on the shoulder—which did little to help his nerves—and pulled him further into the room.

“Let’s have it from the beginning,” Leon said soothingly. “Give me the details.”

The Tribesmen stiffly nodded and said in a sputtering voice, “He arrived just a few minutes ago, Y-Your Majesty! H-He said he came from a-across the river!”

“How?” the Jaguar demanded. “How did he come?”

“On f-foot! With a-a w-white flag, Marshall!”

The Jaguar seemed to coil up, his muscles tensing as if ready to pounce, but his eyes found Leon’s and he waited. It seemed he had something to say, but was waiting for Leon to speak first.

Leon subtly nodded and said, “Then let’s go see what this man has to say.”

---

The forward base, as fortified as it had become since the Ten Tribes had been pushed back to the river that now demarcated Tribal and Imperial territory, lacked a prison.

‘Prisoners aren’t usually taken…’ Leon morbidly mused.

As a result, the Imperial messenger was brought to an unused barrack and locked in one of the officers ’ rooms. Then the building was surrounded, and its halls filled with guards, some of them as strong as the seventh-tier even though the messenger was only of the fifth-tier and had been quite thoroughly searched.

However, Leon had to concede that a physical search wouldn’t find anything stashed away in the messenger’s soul realm.

Still, it was with the confidence of a man fully in control of the situation that Leon stepped into the barracks room where the Imperial messenger was being held, followed a moment after by both Menander and Singer-in-Caves. The rest of the command staff were waiting for them to return to the keep since no one wanted their forces to be decapitated if this messenger had snuck some way to kill them all in with him.

But the terror in the messenger’s eyes that Leon saw as he entered the room said to him that the messenger didn’t have such means with him. The messenger just sprang to his feet from the chair he’d been trying and failing to relax in upon their entrance.

Leon smiled, but any reassurance was lost on the messenger. So, Leon simply said, “I’m Leon Raime. Do you know that name?”

The messenger slowly nodded. “You… lead the S… the forces here…”

Menander took a menacing step forward and growled, “Speak to our King with more respect or I’ll have your tongue ripped out!”

Leon held up a hand but put no heat in his voice when he said, “That won’t be necessary.” He fixed the messenger in his golden gaze. “Will it?”

The messenger somehow stood even more rigidly as he said, “No! No, Your Majesty!”

Menander growled lightly but didn’t reprimand the messenger again.

“Please,” Leon said as he gestured to the small table that the messenger had, until just a moment ago, been sitting at, “have a seat.” He then took one of the two chairs available and waited for the messenger to take the other.

The messenger stiffly accepted.

“Now that we’re more comfortable,” Leon smilingly said, “for what reason has the Sunlit Emperor sent you to me today?”

The messenger paled slightly and hesitated a moment before responding.

“B-Beggin’ your pardon, Your Majesty, but I wasn’t sent by His Imperial Majesty. I was sent by Commander Arcaion.”

Leon blinked in surprise, then in confusion. He glanced at Menander, whose scowl had deepened.

[The jackal’s appointed general in the west,] Menander silently explained. [The man who would’ve likely led their forces in battle against us yesterday.]

Leon subtly nodded in understanding. Turning back to the messenger, he asked, “Then what does Commander Arcaion have to say?”

Instead of saying anything, the messenger placed both of his hands on the table and visibly called upon his magic power, causing the room to tense up and for both Menander and Singer to nearly charge him. Leon waved them both down but prepared to summon his armor and family’s sword at a moment’s notice, just in case.

But that case never arrived, for the messenger only pulled a single envelope from his soul realm. From the way he braced, almost cringing in upon himself, it seemed that the messenger thought he was about to die, and he tried to breathe as subtle of a sigh of relief as he could.

Leon took the letter. It was richly sealed, hand-written, and personally addressed to ‘King Leon Raime, or His representative.’

Breaking the seal, Leon retrieved the letter, also hand-written and only on a single piece of paper.

It was a request to parley. It seemed that Commander Arcaion wanted to surrender.