Par'tryont's claws scrape across the mountain face, heaving us up an over. He swats his claws forward, easily knocking down a hill's worth of mountaintop to make an impromptu plateau. We come to a stop, and I tighten my grip on the divinely made reins. I look one way and another, listening to the wind as much as I am listening to the snorts and sniffs of the lions.
He flexes his jaw, yawning out another roar as the Crown of Conceptual War repeats the plan to me. A small fleet of heretic airships are coming this way. Cautionary scouts if the artefact's word is anything to go by. Just one more of many easy pickings to go through.
The Cycle of Screaming Witches is long gone, the events surrounding Thrurstradtur-Suhurlodst are, too. The fearsome machine of the God of Death is down, Atarifuge fell. Defeated by a warrior with an ivory beak and carapaced flesh. Nin...
I look one and then another, shaking my head clear of the strange omniscience the artefacts give me. My grip on Cenotaph tightens and I rear it up, sliding it across my lap in a clean motion. Both hands take hold of it and I look over the legendary artifice. Such mythical history seeming so unreal for the moment.
"I know I can't quite figure out how well you understand mortal tongues, Par'tryont, but... This is certainly something." I remark, taking in the true weight of what it is I'm holding. From the ancient heroes that roamed the earth alongside men like Thunder. To as far back as the first cycle in history where there were no stars. When Ihtuntar died.
The lion barks, his shield-like mane ruffling as the winds change. I look its way, taking in the sudden shift in power. Moonrim Emerald starts to make its way into the wind. The sounds of heavy machines forcing all that power out in one go. It's an odd thing, the power of the mightiest Valkinvar, all to lift a block of steel so thick you could forge an army of armour from it.
An entire city of knight-like individuals, even.
All that just to lift a wall of a thousand guns either side. All that power to move entire armies to the front and back. To topple continental rivals and to... Challenge the grandest of kingdoms?
"All for that, huh?" I go, not paying much mind to the ominous future the Crown of Conceptual War speaks of. I shake my head clean of its nonsense again and let my instinctual knowledge take over. The reins whip like lightning and thunder and Par'tryont growls. He heaves ahead, his paws cracking into the mountain and weakening down to the bedrock.
The air whips through our hair, and he claws his way into another footing. I lean into the motion and flip Cenotaph to one side. Waionr's lion gallops on and on. Throwing us into the air again with another mighty leap.
My back straightens out, and I watch the fleet grow larger as the distance shortens. I can't help but think back to all the other times I've seen such machines. Such overwhelming power and terror. From my first sighting near Giant's Victory, to the Long Battery Fort and all the way on our retreat to Thurn's Forge.
No more.
No more do I fear them. I'm excited to see them, even. They can see me, they're turning to face me and I have nothing but pride in my heart. Confidence that is nothing but whole-hearted good. Though I know what will happen, I want to see it with my eyes. Hear it with my ears, and taste the sparks on my tongue!
The nearest one lights up, its barrels all erupting with that warbling pale blue. That unnatural magic light devoid of all elemental heritage. The pattern keeps ongoing, the last airship offering a crescendo with an abrupt change in patterns. The artefacts tell me: Ten-thousand shots.
Cenotaph spins and Par'tryont roars proudly, his legs throwing us forward with even greater speed. Some of the shots hit their mark, others slipping on by. Bursts of light ripple across the countryside. Each loss of light taking with it nearly ten halfmans of creation with it. Magic rushes in to fill the void, rupturing violently as the lost land gives way to arcane temper.
Par'tryont throws us through the latest volley. Nary a scratch about us in any way. The airships fire again and again, keeping it up with unending fury. Waionr's lion roars, diving us down into the valley below. His paws touch only the grass and he effortlessly moves us into a fresh stride. He keeps ongoing, and going. Snorting with bloodlust as much as anything else.
One airship nears, its course bringing it as close as our movements do. We leap high into the air and I hop onto the lion's back. His claws stretch out and I ready the great-axe. We pass through two legs of pure wind magic, coming out of it as if we've just showered.
His claws sink through the impenetrable steel, screeching it for all the pain it can give. He runs up the machine, leaping onto the wall of it and I part ways. He forces his way down a cannon hole, breaking into the airship itself with no trouble at all.
I soar away, my back to the ground. I twist and turn, the air booming like my old Valkinvar-Imdvarce self might do. However, unlike the me of a decade ago... The airship does not stop me. Cenotaph passes right through the thick belt of armour, carrying on even where the blade does not touch.
The airship blasts apart, its engines unable to grasp what just happened. Each half flies away, smashing down into the mountains below and exploding with the force to level the ruined stone. The countryside trembles and my grin grows, almost becoming sadistic as I take in the sight. Feel the ease with which I laid an entire airship to rest.
"I... We can win this war!" I blurt, child-like excitement throwing me forth to deliver another deadly chop. I rear Cenotaph's head high, flipping over the volley of gunfire and driving the battle-axe down. It smashes into the airship's deck, caving it in as a war-hammer would a regular man's spine. It bends up, its gut tearing open as I reduce another to a pair of broken halves.
I leap away, sending the town-sized machine parts away at rocketing speeds. I glance back, almost embarrassed to leave such amounts of steel rolling away like balls on a one-way trip. My body crashes right through the armour of an airship, giving me a view of how much armour these things really have. It's an impossible amount of steel, impossible for any factory to safely cast and mould in the fires of the forge...
My eyes force a blink and get my attention back, and I throw myself up. Blasting open the top deck of an airship and bolts of magic come about all around me. The fearless shadow-face soldiers fire away. Their shots unwaveringly precise. But, whatever terror has taken so many lives of the faithful... It falters near such holy metal.
Whizzes of all kinds fill my ears and I drop. Smashing right through the decks. Time slows down as I speed up, and I cut my way through the prow, leaving nothing for the earth to take back. Down to the smallest parts of even the smoothest surface. It's all gone!
A Mach cone bursts again, sending me right alongside an airship. Cenotaph dragging behind me and gutting the iron beast by its side. The damaged engines come undone, tearing the machine in half further and folding it over itself as an emerald mushroom comes up behind me. The winds, the regular winds, seem so visible now. Going across the greenery of the wilds like the waves of the All-Coast Sea.
Par'tryont roars for my attention, the lion already making his way across another mountain range. He leaps away, crossing dozens more and landing right on another airship. He digs his way in, explosions quickly following him. Hundreds of gun shots find me and I meet them with a careless swat of Cenotaph.
They erupt, eating at all of Creation that they can. But not me, nothing about me falters. The warped, unnatural light of the guns vanishes, leaving me alone to laugh. I cackle away, feeling freer than ever to enjoy the world about me.
I turn towards the horizon, tens of airships still in view and the scent of heretic armies following. My flight ends, sending me plummeting to the ground. Par'tryont leaps through the airship's armour, catching me and setting me back on the saddle. My free hand takes the reins, whipping him the way we need to go.
"TO THE VERY BORDERS OF WAIONR'S CHOSEN THEOCRACY! PUSH THEM BACK AS FAR AS THAT AND THEN MORE!" I roar with all I have, and the lion answers with something even greater. Throwing us back into the view of the morning rise of the Orbital-Halo as the enemy's capital dares to show its face. Onwards...
Onwards to victory!