Chapter 12 The Crimson Armada
The great Salt, the waters the divide the lands of Elyiria and Azura and all other continents of Vanha Ethiria. For seven nights the storms followed Dragun’s fleet westward across the Great Salt Sea. The ocean had become a kingdom of thunder. No stars remained visible anymore. Only endless black clouds rolling above violent waters illuminated by silver lightning and distant fires burning somewhere beyond the horizon.
The soldiers aboard the Mourning Fleet no longer slept properly. They listened instead. To the thunder. To the waves. And sometimes to the bats.
The first wreck appeared at dawn. A shattered Baalanian warship drifting silently through dense sea fog. Its sails burned away. Its hull frozen solid. Not a single survivor remained aboard. Only claw marks covered the deck. Thousands of them.
General Zerafin studied the ruined vessel grimly from the flagship.
“They’re scouting us.”
Father Lucian whispered a prayer.
The sea around the wreck slowly turned red as something beneath the waves fed upon the corpses. Then came the horns. Deep. Ancient. Echoing through the fog from every direction simultaneously.
The fleet froze. Even the thunder seemed quieter afterward.And from the mist the enemy arrived. The Crimson Armada.
Hundreds of Baalanian warships emerged from the storm like moving fortresses of black iron and bronze flame. Massive infernal sails stretched above burning decks while gigantic fire-cannons glowed red-hot along their hulls.
Some ships carried chained braziers taller than houses. Others dragged floating siege platforms through the sea behind them.
And at the center of the armada sailed: The Sun Eater. Mehmeth’s personal warship.
A colossal floating fortress plated in obsidian armor with black fire pouring endlessly from giant furnace towers rising along its decks like volcanic cathedrals.
The sight alone silenced entire sections of Dragun’s fleet. Then the fire began.
The Baalanians attacked first. Infernal cannons erupted across the sea with deafening force as enormous spheres of black flame screamed through the storm toward the Mourning Fleet.
The ocean exploded. Entire waves ignited unnaturally.
One Vahsravian ship vanished instantly beneath fire and splintered wood while burning soldiers were thrown screaming into the sea.
“RETURN FIRE!”
General Zerafin’s command thundered across the fleet.
Silver cannons answered immediately.
The night transformed into chaos.
The two armadas collided beneath the storm.
Thunder roared overhead while burning ships drifted across monstrous waves crashing violently between fleets. Cannonfire illuminated the darkness continuously as boarding hooks slammed into hulls and soldiers fought hand-to-hand atop rain-soaked decks.
Steel against steel. Fire against storm. Darkness against darkness.
Dragun stood unmoving upon the bow of Noctis Rex while lightning illuminated the battlefield around him.
The Vampire King watched silently as entire ships burned across the sea.
Thousands already dead. Thousands more dying.
And somewhere within the storm
Mehmeth watched too. Two kings measuring one another across fire and thunder.
Then the Sun Eater unleashed its true weapon. The giant furnace towers atop the flagship opened slowly. And the sea itself caught fire. An enormous wave of black infernal flame erupted outward from the ship spreading across the ocean unnaturally fast. Entire sections of water ignited while multiple Vahsravian vessels were swallowed instantly beneath screaming firestorms.
The soldiers panicked.
“This isn’t normal fire!”
“It’s burning the sea!”
“Gods protect us”
The inferno kept spreading.
Father Lucian stared in horror.
“Sacred flame…”
Even rain could not extinguish it.
The black fire moved like living hatred across the ocean surface consuming ships whole while monstrous heat warped the air itself.
General Zerafin shouted desperately for retreat formations
but Dragun finally moved.
The Vampire King stepped onto the flooded edge of the flagship.
The storm answered immediately. Thunder exploded across the heavens.
Winds intensified violently around the fleet while crimson lightning illuminated the sea in endless flashes.
Dragun slowly raised one hand toward the sky.
Then closed his fist. And the world darkened. Thousands upon thousands of bats erupted from the storm clouds above. The sky disappeared beneath wings.
An ocean of shadow descended across the battlefield while terrified Baalanian soldiers screamed upward in panic. The bats moved unnaturally fast. Like a living storm.
They struck the Crimson Armada all at once.
The swarm crashed into burning ships from every direction tearing through sails, soldiers, and fire priests alike. Entire decks vanished beneath black wings while screaming men were dragged into the air before disappearing into darkness.
One Baalanian captain fired his pistol wildly into the swarm before hundreds of bats engulfed him completely.
Thunder exploded across the sea so violently several enemy ships shattered apart from the shockwave alone.
Massive storm winds spiraled outward while black waves rose high enough to swallow entire vessels whole. The ocean itself turned against Baalania. Lightning rained continuously across the battlefield.
Enemy sails ignited. Masts exploded. Ships capsized beneath colossal waves. And within the chaos the bats descended. Thousands of shadow bats erupted from the storm clouds overhead turning the heavens black with wings. They tore through enemy crews like living darkness: ripping sailors from decks and devouring archers also blinding captains before vampire marines boarded the crippled vessels.
One Baalanian commander looked upward moments before death and saw Dragun standing within the storm itself. Watching.
Like a wrathful god emerging from thunderclouds.
Seconds later nothing remained.
Meanwhile the storm intensified further.
Gigantic waves rose between fleets while lightning strikes shattered enemy masts apart. The bats forced Baalanian crews into chaos as vampire marines boarded crippled ships beneath thunder and shadow.
And through it all Mordecai entered the battle. The massive executioner leapt directly from one warship onto another through the storm.
The impact alone shattered half the enemy deck beneath him.
Baalanian soldiers rushed him immediately.
They died immediately.
Mordecai tore through armored warriors like an unleashed monster while black smoke exploded around his body with every movement. His claws carved through steel armor effortlessly while terrified sailors fled screaming across burning decks.
One fire priest attempted sacred flame magic against him.
Mordecai walked through it.
Then crushed the priest’s skull one-handed against the mast.
The surrounding soldiers broke instantly afterward.
Above the battlefield Tenji danced through the storm itself. Weightless.
Untouched by gravity. Immaculate and chaste in the dark His flowing white robes moved beautifully through thunderclouds while shadow crows spiraled around him in enormous swarms.
The crows descended upon enemy artillery crews from above blinding entire ships in darkness while Tenji glided effortlessly between collapsing masts and burning sails. Lightning illuminated him briefly. Not like a man nor fair maiden. Like an angel watching the end of civilizations.
Then the Sun Eater moved forward. Massive. Burning. Untouched by the chaos surrounding it.
The gigantic flagship cut through the sea directly toward Dragun’s vessel while furnace towers unleashed another devastating wave of black fire.
The Noctis Rex disappeared beneath flame. For one terrible moment the Vahsravian fleet believed their king dead.
Then thunder split the heavens. A colossal lightning strike crashed directly onto the flagship. The firestorm exploded apart instantly. And standing within the center of the storm was Dragun.
His crimson eyes glowed through rain and darkness while storm winds spiraled violently around him. Thousands of bats circled overhead beneath endless lightning while black waves crashed against the burning sea below.
The soldiers watching from both fleets fell silent. Because for a single moment
the Vampire King no longer looked mortal. He looked ancient. Mythological. A wrathful king born from the storm itself.
Far across the battlefield aboard the Sun Eater
Baalaniah Mehmeth finally smiled. Not mockingly. Not arrogantly. But with genuine fascination. At last he had found an enemy worthy of legend.
And the war had only just begun.
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