Chapter 1109: War of Establishment VI
Amidst the rain-drenched mountains, shaded by the thick storm clouds above and illuminated by frequent bolts of lightning, Leon watched his prey draw closer.
He felt alive in a way that he hadn’t in a long time. This was hardly hunting of the sort he was fond of, but there was something about stalking a strong target through thick forests and around steep cliffs that set his blood aflame with delight.
‘I’m going to need to take some time off after all this is over, run around the woods for a while,’ he thought, though he immediately clamped down on the thought, regarding it as too optimistic.
He was hardly hunting some strange monster now, though; instead of creeping through the underbrush, he stood upon a reasonably flat plateau beneath a dome of light that rendered him and his companions invisible. He and his company had made their way through the caves and the Aesii below the land, emerging from a narrow cave in the western mountains. It had been a tense and terse journey, with few words spoken that weren’t purely utilitarian. But now, they’d reached their destination: a firing point that Leon identified while watching the Diluvian arks fly their patrols through the mountains. Moving slowly and under the cover of light mages, they managed to reach this point and set up their four Aurichalcum Lances undetected, but in only a few moments more, their attack would begin, obliterating their cover.
Leon smiled despite the risks. The arks in the western mountains were small, consisting mostly of frigates and destroyers, and they moved in groups of two. They didn’t stray too close to the edges of the misty veil for fear of Leon’s arks lying in wait—which Silver Spear and Bolt in Shadow were—but instead patrolled miles away, bathing the land in the magic of the sensor enchantments and senses of the passengers.
And so far, thanks to the efforts of Eva, Cassandra, and half a dozen other light mages, Leon’s company had gone undetected.
Now, a group of two frigates were drawing closer to the plateau, flying about a mile or so above the ground—perfectly within range of the new Lances. Leon’s only real concern was that his Lances, powerful though they were, weren’t enough to guarantee that both frigates would be killed. It took three shots on average to down a Diluvian frigate, and he had two targets and only four shots. If one or both frigates survived the ambush, then they could respond with Lancefire of their own, potentially killing some of Leon’s company or destroying his new Lances.
With that dilemma in mind, Leon made his targeting decision as his prey drew closer to effective firing range, and gave his orders. His company then prepared themselves, and Leon began to quietly gather magic within himself. The door to his soul realm within his heart opened wide, flooding his body with magic and a few sparks of origin power. Lightning flashed through his blood, his muscles were taut as a drawn bowstring, and his golden eyes glittered with all the anticipation and anxiety of the moments before deadly action.
The Ocean arks drew closer, the din of rain striking their hulls in great sheets reaching Leon’s ears, the thrum of their magic engines resonating in his chest even two miles away.