Episode-1018
Chapter : 2035
He let out a breath he didn't know he was holding. He was safe. The humans couldn't fly. Their machines were stuck on the ground.
"Fools," Bael laughed, the sound high and hysterical. "You can keep the dirt! I have vaults in the Abyss that you will never find! I will return with a bigger army! I will buy mercenaries who know how to kill machines!"
He steered the drake toward the south, toward the dimensional rift hidden in the mountains. He just needed to get to the rift. Once he crossed back into the Abyss, he was untouchable.
Ten miles away, on a high ridge overlooking the plains, Lloyd Ferrum watched a small dot rise into the sky.
He wasn't sitting in a command chair. He was standing inside the Aegis Mark III, his body locked into the neural interface. He felt the cool metal of the suit against his skin. He saw what the suit saw.
His Heads-Up Display (HUD) zoomed in. The image stabilized. It showed the black drake climbing higher into the morning sky. It showed the frantic figure of Bael clinging to the saddle.
"Target identified," the System Administrator’s voice echoed in Lloyd’s mind. "Designation: Bael. Status: Fleeing."
Lloyd didn't smile. He didn't feel anger. He just felt cold precision.
"He thinks he’s out of range," Lloyd said softly. "He thinks distance is a shield."
Lloyd raised the right arm of the Aegis suit. The black plates shifted and slid back. The white-and-gold mechanism of the Nova Spirit extended. It wasn't the wide barrel of the "Thunder Pipe" he had used against the elephants. It was different this time.
The barrel narrowed. It elongated, turning into a long, thin needle-point.
"Nova Configuration: Snub-Nose disabled," Lloyd commanded. "Activate Orbital Lock. Load ammunition type: Plasma Needle."
[Configuration complete. Focusing lens active.]
The Nova Cannon began to hum. It was a high-pitched sound, like a mosquito buzzing in a microphone. The energy didn't gather in a big ball. It compressed. It squeezed down into a single, tiny point of light at the tip of the barrel. It was brighter than the sun, but smaller than a coin.
"Wind speed, twelve knots," Lloyd muttered, reading the data scrolling across his eyes. "Target velocity, three hundred miles per hour. Elevation, four thousand feet."
He adjusted his aim. The suit moved with him, smooth and instant. There was no lag. He felt the weight of the cannon as if it were his own arm.
He led the target. He aimed not at Bael, but at the empty air in front of the drake.
"You don't get to run," Lloyd whispered. "You came to my house. You threatened my people. You don't get to just walk away when you start losing."
The reticle on his screen turned from red to green.
"Lock," Lloyd said.
He pulled the trigger.
There was no explosion. There was no boom. There was just a hiss, like water hitting a hot pan.
PFFT.
A thin beam of blue-white light shot out of the cannon. It was no wider than a pencil. It moved at a significant fraction of the speed of light. It didn't arc. It didn't drop. It drew a perfect, straight line across the sky.
Ten miles away, Bael was looking back at the battlefield, planning his revenge. He was calculating how much gold he would need to hire a new legion. He felt the powerful beat of the drake’s wings beneath him. Up, down. Up, down.
Then, there was a flash.
It happened so fast Bael didn't even see it. The Plasma Needle sliced through the air. It hit the right wing of the drake, right at the shoulder joint where the bone was thickest.
The beam didn't break the bone. It vaporized it. It burned clean through the wing, cauterizing the wound instantly.
One moment, the drake was flying. The next moment, its right wing was gone, detached from its body, fluttering away like a falling leaf.
The drake screamed. It was a terrible, shriek of confusion and pain. The balance was gone. The aerodynamics failed instantly.
The massive beast rolled over in the air.
"What?!" Bael screamed, clutching the saddle as the world spun upside down. "No! Fly! Fly you stupid beast!"
But gravity didn't care about orders.
The drake and its rider began to fall. They fell from four thousand feet. It wasn't a glide. It was a plummet. They spun like a top, crashing through the layers of the morning mist.
Lloyd watched the dot fall on his screen.
Chapter : 2036
"Target grounded," Lloyd said. He switched his comms channel to the Titan Squad. "Rook. Valkyrie. Ghost. I just clipped a bird. It’s falling in Sector Four. Go pick up the trash."
"Copy that, Boss," Ren’s voice came back, deep and satisfied. "We see him coming down. He’s going to make a big splash."
Lloyd lowered his arm. The barrel of the Nova Cannon hissed as the cooling vents opened.
"He wanted to buy the world," Lloyd said to himself. "Let's see if he can buy his way out of gravity."
________________________________________
Bael hit the ground.
It wasn't a graceful landing. The drake took the brunt of the impact, crashing into a sand dune with a bone-shattering crunch. Dust and sand exploded into the air, creating a mushroom cloud of debris. The beast groaned once, a low, gurgling sound, and then went still.
Bael was thrown from the saddle. He tumbled across the hard earth, his fine silk robes tearing, his gold jewelry scattering in the dirt. He rolled for fifty feet before slamming into a rock.
He lay there for a moment, stunned. His ears were ringing. His vision was blurry. He tasted blood and sand.
"Impossible," he wheezed, trying to push himself up. His body screamed in pain. He was bruised, battered, and humiliated. "I was... I was out of range. How did they hit me?"
He looked up at the sky. It was empty. There were no ships. No dragons. Just the empty blue expanse that had betrayed him.
He scrambled to his feet, ignoring the pain in his ribs. He had to keep moving. He was Bael. He was a Prince. He could still escape. He could run to the jungle, hide in a cave, and wait for a portal.
He took a step forward, stumbling.
THUD.
The ground shook. A shadow fell over him.
Bael froze. He looked up.
Standing directly in front of him, blocking the sun, was a wall of matte-grey steel.
It was Ren. The heavy Aegis suit stood there, motionless, looking like a statue of judgment. The massive rotary cannons on its shoulders were still spinning slowly, cooling down. The red eye of the helmet looked down at the tiny, broken demon.
Bael took a step back, his heart hammering against his ribs.
THUD.
Another tremor came from behind him. He spun around.
Vala’s suit was there. She was crouching, her vibro-blades extended. The blades hummed with a menacing buzz, like angry hornets. She tilted her mechanical head, watching him like a cat watching a mouse that had just run into a wall.
Bael looked to his left.
Kaito was there. His sniper mech was kneeling on a ridge fifty yards away, the long barrel of his rifle pointed directly at Bael’s chest. A red laser dot appeared on Bael’s forehead, steady and unblinking.
He was surrounded. The Titan Squad had boxed him in.
Bael’s mind raced. He was trapped. He had no army. He had no mount. He had no magic that could scratch these metal giants.
But he still had his voice. He still had his greatest weapon: his wealth.
Bael straightened his torn robes. He wiped the blood from his lip. He forced a smile onto his face. It was a greasy, desperate smile.
"Gentlemen," Bael said, spreading his hands. "And lady. Let us not be hasty. I see you are professionals. I respect professionals."
Ren’s mech took a step forward. The hydraulic hiss was loud in the silence.
"Stay back!" Bael shouted, holding up a hand filled with rings. "Listen to me! You are mercenaries, yes? You fight for Ferrum because he pays you. But what does he pay you? Gold? Land? Titles?"
Bael laughed. It sounded frantic.
"I can double it! Triple it! I am the Merchant Prince of the Abyss! I own mines of soul-gems. I have vaults of ancient artifacts. I can make you kings in your own realms! Just let me walk away. Turn your backs for five minutes. That is all I ask."
He reached into his pocket and pulled out a pouch. He spilled it onto the ground. Diamonds, rubies, and emeralds poured out into the dust, glittering in the sun.
"Look!" Bael pleaded. "This is just pocket change! I can give you mountains of this! I can give you power! I can give you long life! I can rewrite your contracts!"
He looked at Ren’s suit.
"You," Bael said, pointing at the heavy mech. "I can sense your spirit. You were crippled, weren't you? Before this suit? I can fix that. I have flesh-crafters in my court. I can give you new legs. Real legs! Better than these metal stilts!"