Unlike most of the commanders, High General Wulong knew what he was getting into. He’d personally heard the Scorpion Dragon’s reports after all, and noted the various victories the Defiant 11th had racked up.
But the high general had been sure that the tanks and komodo rhinos would have at least given Xing pause, buying enough time for the main assault to at least close within effective firebending range. Instead, he could only helplessly watch as the tanks were devoured by the smoke, likely lost completely, and the heavy cavalry were routing as the riders seemingly lost control of their mounts.
And the infantry center was still well beyond optimum distance.
There was little choice but for the men to keep their heads down and march ever forwards. The loss of life would be ridiculously heavy, but with careful managing he might still net them a victory.
The enemy’s tanks began to advance, a thin line of vehicles that began to spread out in an attempt to engage the entire front of the formation. Further back, the rebels’ own infantry began moving at a slow pace after the vehicles. Wulong didn’t know what to expect other than trouble, but to deliberate now was to surrender all initiative to the enemy, and to allow Xing full reign of his brand of bloody madness.
Orders were sent to have the massive infantry block advance slowly and prepare to brace for the approaching tanks. If the commanders timed their attacks right, the warmachines would be at least forced back by an unrelenting storm of fire. Those things were liable to be ovens for their crew in the wrong conditions, a weakness that usually was discounted against the Earth Kingdom and Water Tribes.
From his vantage point on a raised stage, Wulong watched as the punitive force formed neat rows, in preparation for the firebenders’ firing by rank. It was a new tactic at close range that saw success against the Earth Kingdom’s northern states, and should be no less effective here. The price of exhausting the formation’s firebenders was a light one considering the numerical advantage they held, it just boiled down to timing once more.
Too early and the attack would not only be ineffective, but also give the game away, too late and the front ranks would likely be pasted by melting tank treads. Wulong and the gaggle of senior commanders with him watched in silent anticipation as the distance between their formation and the enemy’s closed. From far behind the deployment grounds, the tanks seemed were fat dots spaced too far apart, utterly vulnerable to being overwhelmed by a good charge.
Against any other foe, Wulong would’ve ordered the charge to do just that. But Xing had a reputation for unusual tactics that played on the expectations of common sense thinking.
So the rows of infantry slowed to a stop as the tanks drew closer, and began letting loose a horizontal hail of fire bolts. The frontmost ranks unleashed all they had for several blistering seconds before quickly pulling back and letting those behind them take their place. Wulong felt a stirring in his chest as he watched the rotation be executed smoothly, leaving no breaks in the barrage at any point.
Earth Kingdom formations with their earthen walls had been turned to ash by such a display.
But here, the enemy tanks quickly reversed out of the worst of the firestorm. Their hulls glowed from the heat, with maybe a dozen or so tanks wobbling from weakened tracks. The commanders around him were cheering, but the high general knew better than to celebrate just yet.
Sure enough, he saw the same foreboding puffs of smoke from before, this time launched from the back of each tank. Wulong shouted a warning, even if common sense told him that he was too far away for the soldiers to listen. The flags began to rise to relay his concern, but it was too late.
Dirty gray clouds began rising all across the front rows, smothering the soldiers caught in them and ceasing the storm of fire almost immediately. The once rigid rows began to bend and flex as firebenders and spearmen hurriedly backed away from the drifting fumes.
Wulong knew he had to act fast, before the advantage fell to the enemy. “Order the fourth to sixth rows to resume firing!”
“B-But sir, the men in th-”
“Their lives were forfeit the moment they were caught in the damned smoke. Fire by ranks, now! Before the rebels exploit the break!”
Thankfully, nobody else dared challenge him, and Wulong almost felt hope as the flags waved with desperation. It still took precious seconds though for the spotters out in the rows to notice and repeat the order.
Those seconds were all the enemy needed.
Scarcely had the infantry begun to hesitate to enact the order, and Wulong saw strings of glowing flame fly out of the smoke. No, not strings…streams. Glowing, liquid streams.
“Spirits…”
Long streams of the infamous liquid fire from Xing’s mysterious weapon splashed onto unlucky soldiers. No less than a few dozen men were caught under each stream.
“Order a retreat.”
The screams began to filter back, just as chaos rippled from the front of the formation. Wulong saw the enemy tanks peeking through the fading smog, spewing out more of the accursed liquid fire across multiple ranks.
As the front buckled under the surprise attack, Wulong managed to see things from behind the rising smog. Large birds, soaring up to the heavens… No, not birds. Even from this far away, the high general could tell it was some sort of contraption. And then he remembered the reports from the previous war minister’s disastrous showing at the Northern Air Temple.
“Full retreat. Sound the drums... Now!”
The drums sounded shortly after, but it was already too late. The gliders shot through the air at incredible speeds, flying overhead the rows of faltering men. In their wake, more columns of dirty smoke erupted, sowing greater confusion.
The rearmost ranks began to pull back with some degree of shaken order, but a full third of the loyalists’ formation up front were scattering aimlessly. The tanks began to advance again, faster this time, and the orderly withdrawal began to be infected by a rout as more ropes of fire landed amongst the panicking soldiers.
Wulong had to squint hard to make out some brave firebenders trying to bend away the flames from their comrades, but it was a futile thing, simply because all it took was an errant spark to reignite the fuel drenching the victims.
And there was plenty of that in the smoke-stained battlefield.
Some clusters of firebenders and spearmen with their wits still about them tried to slow the tanks, or shoot up with the optimistic hopes of hitting the gliders. They failed utterly at both, the tanks being either surrounded by fellow troops for any degree of effective fire, and the gliders were just too high for the fire bolts to reach.
Wulong could only gape in astonishment. Two hundred tanks and less than half that number in gliders were in the midst of a panicking force seventy times their size, spreading chaos so complete that they were almost halfway into the crumbling formation.
The rebel’s own infantry also caught up with the evaporating front, and Wulong could only sigh in defeat as he watched flames and rock stamp out any soldier in their way. And then a dull explosion rumbled from within the enemy’s center. Something tore a brutal line through the men before blowing up a good amount of dirt deep in the loyalists’ formation, further fueling the rising panic.
Another explosion sounded, and then another, and then another. It was the pounding rhythm of defeat in Wulong’s ears. Each blast was quickly followed by a bloody line carved through the retreating formation, piercing deeper than the flame tanks could ever reach. The high general saw lines of men simply vanishing in puffs of blood and dust at whatever that shot through them.
It took a while before Wulong found the source of it all - a cart of sorts following after the infantry with a bulky form atop of it. He could barely make out a long metal tube stuck to a massive box. Each blast was heralded by a short puff of smoke and flames, and Wulong finally caught sight of a speeding projectile zipping through men and earth.
It was all too much for him. This whole battle was descending into madness.
At the edges of the battlefield, a number of the komodo rhino cavalry rallied, and to Wulong’s dismay they were making their way towards the enemy’s engaged center. Their charge was stopped completely as the rebels’ earthbenders created a tangle of earthen spikes, impaling beasts and riders alike and causing their luckier fellows to turn away.
Then the spikes were shot out to the rest of the surprised cavalry, maiming and distracting them enough for the enemy to close in. Unsupported by tanks or infantry, and with the momentum of the charge stolen from them, the komodo rhino cavalry were quickly dragged down. Wulong was sure that this time, any that managed to survive would not be rallying again anytime soon.
“Full retreat,” the high general sighed out as he began to turn to leave. “Salvage what we can. With any luck, those damned tanks will run out of fuel soon.”
Nobody was stupid enough to suggest using the lack of fuel as an opportunity to destroy the tanks. The rest of the rebel forces were catching up, and little over half of the force were barely retaining their wits as they pulled back. Spirits alone know how it hadn’t devolved into a complete rout yet, but Wulong would take whatever small mercies he could right now.
“Generals!”
Wulong couldn’t help but turn back, just in time to see another, smaller wave of gliders diving towards.
He barely had time to turn and take a dozen paces back when roars of flame heralded the arrival of the enemy, right in the midst of the commanders. The high general immediately recognized the armored forms of Xing and the princess, along with their retinue, their flying contraptions still in the skies and drifting away from them.
“Good day, you spineless lot,” the exiled princess greeted with a sharp and venomous smirk.
The Scorpion beside her scanned the shocked crowd before fixing his gaze on Wulong. “Ah, High General Wulong…”
Wulong did not like that tone at all, and quickly fell into a firebending stance. That snapped everyone else out of their stupor, and surprise was quickly and appropriately replaced with hostility towards the intruders. The commanders and their retinue outnumbered the traitor prince and princess at least six to one.
Wulong hoped that it would be enough.
*****
Azula allowed herself to savor the savage satisfaction at seeing the terror in the spineless nobles before her. Oh, how poorly they wore their masks of bravery. The pure joy was further heightened by her amazing first flight on the war glider. Once more, her Xing proved to be a man of great ideas by adapting the Mechanists’ little toy.
The war gliders could support two to three riders per machine, and were kept aloft and guided by at least one firebender using bursts of flame. If the passengers were light enough, it could carry more than just a payload of naphtha bombs. Xing suggested food and supplies for emergencies, spare parts, even trap kits, to say nothing of just strapping on small barrels of blasting jelly.
And to think that they might have gained this technology earlier if the idiot Qin hadn’t been such a narrow-minded thug.
Azula redirected her annoyance at the deceased war minister to further fuel her disgust at the enemy before her. She found it impossible to fear their spears, nor did their firebending stances concern her in the slightest.
Xing, polite and generous as ever, opened by offering terms. “Gentlemen, I give you this one chance: Lay down your arms and surrender.”
“You’re surrounded, brat,” High General Wulong spat back with admirable bravado. “We should be the ones t-”
He didn’t get to finish, as Xing cut in blandly, his cape shifting heavily as he gestured with an arm. “Then die.”
Azula let out a very un-princesslike growl as she immediately launched herself at the nearest fool. The armored fop froze in his stance, with eyes wide like a startled turtleduck. Her lunging kick wiped that expression off, along with most of his face as flames burst out from her foot.
The rest of her people (they were mostly pledged to Xing, but that was academic at this point - she’s his princess after all, so his people were hers as well) burst into action as well. Crotchety Yama and his earthbenders stomped their feet to create spikes to impale or holes to swallow. Kilin and a select group of bloodthirsty waterbenders decapitated and punctured their victims with ice shards and water whips. And the firebenders of the lucky raffle winners from the 11th, along with Xing’s loyal bodyguards, followed Azula’s lead and dove right in to engage the enemy face-to-face.
They had been initially outnumbered by a significant margin, but after the initial strike, after Azula had personally seared several faces and buried daggers into several more throats, she thought that the handicap wasn’t enough. She almost laughed as she gave in to the primal joy of battle, though she had enough awareness left to not turn sharply about too much to swish her cape.
Perhaps Xing was being overcautious, perhaps they should’ve let all the home islands forces gather up as one. It’d give the princess more nobles to vent her rage upon.
“Azula!” She turned just in time to see Suki drive her sword through a noble trying to flank her, and the princess then realized just how far out she’d inadvertently separated herself from the main group.
“Thank you, Suki.”
The other girl didn’t so much as glance her way, distractedly parrying a few spears as she fell in beside Azula. “I know you’re having fun, but we need to regroup.”
“I’m aware,” Azula retorted curtly, but then remembered that her bodyguard was merely doing her job. She was supposed to be an enlightened princess, not another petty noble. “I’m sorry, you’re right,” Azula added, more softly this time. “Let’s go.”
Suki merely nodded to show that she heard and forgave her, and the two girls fought their way back to the formation, or they would have if said formation hadn’t already caught up with the duo. The home island commanders and their retinue were barely holding back the gliding strike force, mostly due to the sheer amount of bodies being sacrificed.
Decorative household guards seasoned against peasants and the occasional burglar bravely rushed to meet Koshi and his veteran bodyguards. The latter group ruthlessly tore through the former while maintaining their distance to both Xing and Azula. Suki faced down pitifully average firebenders and cut their disappointing lives short with her sword and war fan. The other earth-, water- and firebenders reaped their own bloody tally of deluded Fire Lord loyalists, who seemed so used to dealing with civilians that they forgot what real combat was like.
The noble born officers put up an equally pathetic fight. Lacking the distance required for traditional firebending, so ingrained was their orthodox training that most did their desperate best to disengage from their enemy so that they could fall into their stances. As such, they barely got a lick of fire out before their foes were right up in their faces and murdered them.
Those with weapons tried to wield them, but compared to hardened warriors like Suki, it was like pitting pickens against a porcupython. Masterwork swords and spears and axes fell from dead hands as the plainer and more practical variants wielded from the 11th simply outfought the nobles whose skills in dueling and fighting criminals proved highly inadequate.
In the middle of it all, Xing was casually murdering his way towards High General Wulong. Brave men tried to stand in his way, and those brave men died screaming as their armor melted against their seared flesh. There was a visible distortion in the air around Xing that left a trail of sizzling earth where he walked, while fire bolts evaporated into nothingness trying to get close to him. Someone tried to lunge at him, but the poor fool barely managed to let out a cry as his skin and lungs froze.
“One last chance.” Xing’s voice cut through the din of one-sided combat, and those on his side graciously paused their slaughter. “Surrender, high general, and deliver a message for me to the Fire Lord.”
“I’ll not-”
Again Wulong didn’t get to finish his sentence, as Xing pointed an open palm at the high general’s face in a quick motion and a blast of white flame erased Wulong’s head and most of his upper chest, along with several of his men unfortunate enough to be standing behind him.
Xing turned his head laconically at the surviving nobles. “Those who wish to help me deliver my message get to live.”
Nearly all of the enemy dropped to their knees and prostrated themselves in that instant, begging for the Scorpion’s mercy. Those few who chose a defiant end were promptly granted a variety of excruciating ends. Azula couldn’t hold back a wince as Kilin forced a water whip down a captain’s throat which then expanded so fast that the poor man exploded in a bloody mess.
The first message, intended for the survivors, has been made clear. The bulk of the enemy’s command have either surrendered or been killed. Which left the rest of the soldiery to be dealt with before they could move on to sending the next message.
Azula felt giddy excitement as her fiance’s gaze fixed onto her. “Orochi,” he simply said aloud.
“Quai Yin,” Azula said with equal clarity.
The dragons responded to their names by unfurling themselves from under the heavy capes of the prince and princess. Orochi swam out from behind Xing with a lazy rasp, while Quai Yin let out a yip that sounded mildly bemused to Azula’s ears.
Ignoring the stares from the stunned newly-acquired prisoners, the princess assuaged the dragon’s annoyance by gently patting Quai Yin’s head as she curled up around Azula’s neck like an overlong scarf. “There, there… It wasn’t that long a ride, was it?” she cooed. “Look on the bright side, this is your big reveal. Now you get to play in the open.”
The purr from Quai Yin sent a pleasant vibration against Azula’s neck, and the dragon then unfurled itself to fly next to its sibling and face Xing, who swept an arm across the mass of fleeing men behind him.
“There’s several thousand men out there that’s never seen a dragon. A good crowd to make your debut?”
Both dragons, each already almost as long as Azula was tall, let out adorable yips that sent the prostrated nobles quivering with fresh terror.
Xing turned to Azula again just as he snapped his fingers. To her surprise, Azula saw Bofang, one of Xing’s bodyguards, walk up to her with a bow and a single arrow. “Care to do the honors, my princess?”
She didn’t bother to hide her flattered grin. “Truly, Xing, you spoil me.” Azula took both bow and arrow in her hands, and the dragons flew up behind her.
“Now,” Xing instructed the dragons, “try and herd them if you can. Let some run. But otherwise…have fun.” He then gave Azula a single, grinning nod. “You remember the words?”
“Of course.”
The princess nocked the arrow and pulled the bowstring back, royal pride insisting that she draw the warbow fully even if it was just a symbolic gesture. Now, what was that string of nonsense Xing found amusing again?
Ah, right.
“Ryu ga waga teki o kurau!”
The arrow was loosed at the mass of panicking soldiers, and as rehearsed, the dragons darted after it, spiraling mesmerizingly around each other as they flew. Revealed to the world at last, they let out their first true roars, which sent goosebumps racing up Azula’s arms and back, and froze much of the battlefield in dread and wonder.
And then for the first time in decades, thousands of people witnessed dragons’ fire being exhaled. Due to their pre-juvenile sizes, only scores out of those thousands died from the flames. The dragons split up after burning a straight path, and each took one flank to burn, claw and bite as they pleased. As Xing said, it was their debut, so both dragons were keen to leave an impression.
“I suppose that wraps it up for us?”
Azula watched Yama’s earthbenders and Kilin’s waterbenders nod with varying degrees of satisfaction, before giving her own pleased nod.
“You weren’t kidding when you said you were gonna make a scene,” Yama remarked, glancing at the dragons every now and then.
Kilin was far more sanguine in her comment. “The dragons have returned to exact their vengeance on the Fire Nation that drove them to extinction. A powerful message indeed.”
“Hopefully powerful enough to get through the thick skulls of the home island nobles,” Azula added, glancing down at the cowering men around her.
“Well, I’m sure they’ll realize their guilt once we feed them to Orochi and Quai Yin,” Xing said mostly for effect.
Azula played along with a bored sigh. “Remember to strip the food down, the dragons are still too young to have metal or cloth as part of their diet.” She then pretended to just notice a group of fearful nobles just to the side and fixed her glare at them. “On an unrelated note, Xing, we should be fully disarming our prisoners right now, shouldn’t we?”
Despite how sharply it stung her nose, Azula found herself grinning with glee as the stench of several people shitting and pissing themselves in fear filled the air.
Unlike most of the commanders, High General Wulong knew what he was getting into. He’d personally heard the Scorpion Dragon’s reports after all, and noted the various victories the Defiant 11th had racked up.
But the high general had been sure that the tanks and komodo rhinos would have at least given Xing pause, buying enough time for the main assault to at least close within effective firebending range. Instead, he could only helplessly watch as the tanks were devoured by the smoke, likely lost completely, and the heavy cavalry were routing as the riders seemingly lost control of their mounts.
And the infantry center was still well beyond optimum distance.
There was little choice but for the men to keep their heads down and march ever forwards. The loss of life would be ridiculously heavy, but with careful managing he might still net them a victory.
The enemy’s tanks began to advance, a thin line of vehicles that began to spread out in an attempt to engage the entire front of the formation. Further back, the rebels’ own infantry began moving at a slow pace after the vehicles. Wulong didn’t know what to expect other than trouble, but to deliberate now was to surrender all initiative to the enemy, and to allow Xing full reign of his brand of bloody madness.
Orders were sent to have the massive infantry block advance slowly and prepare to brace for the approaching tanks. If the commanders timed their attacks right, the warmachines would be at least forced back by an unrelenting storm of fire. Those things were liable to be ovens for their crew in the wrong conditions, a weakness that usually was discounted against the Earth Kingdom and Water Tribes.
From his vantage point on a raised stage, Wulong watched as the punitive force formed neat rows, in preparation for the firebenders’ firing by rank. It was a new tactic at close range that saw success against the Earth Kingdom’s northern states, and should be no less effective here. The price of exhausting the formation’s firebenders was a light one considering the numerical advantage they held, it just boiled down to timing once more.
Too early and the attack would not only be ineffective, but also give the game away, too late and the front ranks would likely be pasted by melting tank treads. Wulong and the gaggle of senior commanders with him watched in silent anticipation as the distance between their formation and the enemy’s closed. From far behind the deployment grounds, the tanks seemed were fat dots spaced too far apart, utterly vulnerable to being overwhelmed by a good charge.
Against any other foe, Wulong would’ve ordered the charge to do just that. But Xing had a reputation for unusual tactics that played on the expectations of common sense thinking.
So the rows of infantry slowed to a stop as the tanks drew closer, and began letting loose a horizontal hail of fire bolts. The frontmost ranks unleashed all they had for several blistering seconds before quickly pulling back and letting those behind them take their place. Wulong felt a stirring in his chest as he watched the rotation be executed smoothly, leaving no breaks in the barrage at any point.
Earth Kingdom formations with their earthen walls had been turned to ash by such a display.
But here, the enemy tanks quickly reversed out of the worst of the firestorm. Their hulls glowed from the heat, with maybe a dozen or so tanks wobbling from weakened tracks. The commanders around him were cheering, but the high general knew better than to celebrate just yet.
Sure enough, he saw the same foreboding puffs of smoke from before, this time launched from the back of each tank. Wulong shouted a warning, even if common sense told him that he was too far away for the soldiers to listen. The flags began to rise to relay his concern, but it was too late.
Dirty gray clouds began rising all across the front rows, smothering the soldiers caught in them and ceasing the storm of fire almost immediately. The once rigid rows began to bend and flex as firebenders and spearmen hurriedly backed away from the drifting fumes.
Wulong knew he had to act fast, before the advantage fell to the enemy. “Order the fourth to sixth rows to resume firing!”
“B-But sir, the men in th-”
“Their lives were forfeit the moment they were caught in the damned smoke. Fire by ranks, now! Before the rebels exploit the break!”
Thankfully, nobody else dared challenge him, and Wulong almost felt hope as the flags waved with desperation. It still took precious seconds though for the spotters out in the rows to notice and repeat the order.
Those seconds were all the enemy needed.
Scarcely had the infantry begun to hesitate to enact the order, and Wulong saw strings of glowing flame fly out of the smoke. No, not strings…streams. Glowing, liquid streams.
“Spirits…”
Long streams of the infamous liquid fire from Xing’s mysterious weapon splashed onto unlucky soldiers. No less than a few dozen men were caught under each stream.
“Order a retreat.”
The screams began to filter back, just as chaos rippled from the front of the formation. Wulong saw the enemy tanks peeking through the fading smog, spewing out more of the accursed liquid fire across multiple ranks.
As the front buckled under the surprise attack, Wulong managed to see things from behind the rising smog. Large birds, soaring up to the heavens… No, not birds. Even from this far away, the high general could tell it was some sort of contraption. And then he remembered the reports from the previous war minister’s disastrous showing at the Northern Air Temple.
“Full retreat. Sound the drums... Now!”
The drums sounded shortly after, but it was already too late. The gliders shot through the air at incredible speeds, flying overhead the rows of faltering men. In their wake, more columns of dirty smoke erupted, sowing greater confusion.
The rearmost ranks began to pull back with some degree of shaken order, but a full third of the loyalists’ formation up front were scattering aimlessly. The tanks began to advance again, faster this time, and the orderly withdrawal began to be infected by a rout as more ropes of fire landed amongst the panicking soldiers.
Wulong had to squint hard to make out some brave firebenders trying to bend away the flames from their comrades, but it was a futile thing, simply because all it took was an errant spark to reignite the fuel drenching the victims.
And there was plenty of that in the smoke-stained battlefield.
Some clusters of firebenders and spearmen with their wits still about them tried to slow the tanks, or shoot up with the optimistic hopes of hitting the gliders. They failed utterly at both, the tanks being either surrounded by fellow troops for any degree of effective fire, and the gliders were just too high for the fire bolts to reach.
Wulong could only gape in astonishment. Two hundred tanks and less than half that number in gliders were in the midst of a panicking force seventy times their size, spreading chaos so complete that they were almost halfway into the crumbling formation.
The rebel’s own infantry also caught up with the evaporating front, and Wulong could only sigh in defeat as he watched flames and rock stamp out any soldier in their way. And then a dull explosion rumbled from within the enemy’s center. Something tore a brutal line through the men before blowing up a good amount of dirt deep in the loyalists’ formation, further fueling the rising panic.
Another explosion sounded, and then another, and then another. It was the pounding rhythm of defeat in Wulong’s ears. Each blast was quickly followed by a bloody line carved through the retreating formation, piercing deeper than the flame tanks could ever reach. The high general saw lines of men simply vanishing in puffs of blood and dust at whatever that shot through them.
It took a while before Wulong found the source of it all - a cart of sorts following after the infantry with a bulky form atop of it. He could barely make out a long metal tube stuck to a massive box. Each blast was heralded by a short puff of smoke and flames, and Wulong finally caught sight of a speeding projectile zipping through men and earth.
It was all too much for him. This whole battle was descending into madness.
At the edges of the battlefield, a number of the komodo rhino cavalry rallied, and to Wulong’s dismay they were making their way towards the enemy’s engaged center. Their charge was stopped completely as the rebels’ earthbenders created a tangle of earthen spikes, impaling beasts and riders alike and causing their luckier fellows to turn away.
Then the spikes were shot out to the rest of the surprised cavalry, maiming and distracting them enough for the enemy to close in. Unsupported by tanks or infantry, and with the momentum of the charge stolen from them, the komodo rhino cavalry were quickly dragged down. Wulong was sure that this time, any that managed to survive would not be rallying again anytime soon.
“Full retreat,” the high general sighed out as he began to turn to leave. “Salvage what we can. With any luck, those damned tanks will run out of fuel soon.”
Nobody was stupid enough to suggest using the lack of fuel as an opportunity to destroy the tanks. The rest of the rebel forces were catching up, and little over half of the force were barely retaining their wits as they pulled back. Spirits alone know how it hadn’t devolved into a complete rout yet, but Wulong would take whatever small mercies he could right now.
“Generals!”
Wulong couldn’t help but turn back, just in time to see another, smaller wave of gliders diving towards.
He barely had time to turn and take a dozen paces back when roars of flame heralded the arrival of the enemy, right in the midst of the commanders. The high general immediately recognized the armored forms of Xing and the princess, along with their retinue, their flying contraptions still in the skies and drifting away from them.
“Good day, you spineless lot,” the exiled princess greeted with a sharp and venomous smirk.
The Scorpion beside her scanned the shocked crowd before fixing his gaze on Wulong. “Ah, High General Wulong…”
Wulong did not like that tone at all, and quickly fell into a firebending stance. That snapped everyone else out of their stupor, and surprise was quickly and appropriately replaced with hostility towards the intruders. The commanders and their retinue outnumbered the traitor prince and princess at least six to one.
Wulong hoped that it would be enough.
*****
Azula allowed herself to savor the savage satisfaction at seeing the terror in the spineless nobles before her. Oh, how poorly they wore their masks of bravery. The pure joy was further heightened by her amazing first flight on the war glider. Once more, her Xing proved to be a man of great ideas by adapting the Mechanists’ little toy.
The war gliders could support two to three riders per machine, and were kept aloft and guided by at least one firebender using bursts of flame. If the passengers were light enough, it could carry more than just a payload of naphtha bombs. Xing suggested food and supplies for emergencies, spare parts, even trap kits, to say nothing of just strapping on small barrels of blasting jelly.
And to think that they might have gained this technology earlier if the idiot Qin hadn’t been such a narrow-minded thug.
Azula redirected her annoyance at the deceased war minister to further fuel her disgust at the enemy before her. She found it impossible to fear their spears, nor did their firebending stances concern her in the slightest.
Xing, polite and generous as ever, opened by offering terms. “Gentlemen, I give you this one chance: Lay down your arms and surrender.”
“You’re surrounded, brat,” High General Wulong spat back with admirable bravado. “We should be the ones t-”
He didn’t get to finish, as Xing cut in blandly, his cape shifting heavily as he gestured with an arm. “Then die.”
Azula let out a very un-princesslike growl as she immediately launched herself at the nearest fool. The armored fop froze in his stance, with eyes wide like a startled turtleduck. Her lunging kick wiped that expression off, along with most of his face as flames burst out from her foot.
The rest of her people (they were mostly pledged to Xing, but that was academic at this point - she’s his princess after all, so his people were hers as well) burst into action as well. Crotchety Yama and his earthbenders stomped their feet to create spikes to impale or holes to swallow. Kilin and a select group of bloodthirsty waterbenders decapitated and punctured their victims with ice shards and water whips. And the firebenders of the lucky raffle winners from the 11th, along with Xing’s loyal bodyguards, followed Azula’s lead and dove right in to engage the enemy face-to-face.
They had been initially outnumbered by a significant margin, but after the initial strike, after Azula had personally seared several faces and buried daggers into several more throats, she thought that the handicap wasn’t enough. She almost laughed as she gave in to the primal joy of battle, though she had enough awareness left to not turn sharply about too much to swish her cape.
Perhaps Xing was being overcautious, perhaps they should’ve let all the home islands forces gather up as one. It’d give the princess more nobles to vent her rage upon.
“Azula!” She turned just in time to see Suki drive her sword through a noble trying to flank her, and the princess then realized just how far out she’d inadvertently separated herself from the main group.
“Thank you, Suki.”
The other girl didn’t so much as glance her way, distractedly parrying a few spears as she fell in beside Azula. “I know you’re having fun, but we need to regroup.”
“I’m aware,” Azula retorted curtly, but then remembered that her bodyguard was merely doing her job. She was supposed to be an enlightened princess, not another petty noble. “I’m sorry, you’re right,” Azula added, more softly this time. “Let’s go.”
Suki merely nodded to show that she heard and forgave her, and the two girls fought their way back to the formation, or they would have if said formation hadn’t already caught up with the duo. The home island commanders and their retinue were barely holding back the gliding strike force, mostly due to the sheer amount of bodies being sacrificed.
Decorative household guards seasoned against peasants and the occasional burglar bravely rushed to meet Koshi and his veteran bodyguards. The latter group ruthlessly tore through the former while maintaining their distance to both Xing and Azula. Suki faced down pitifully average firebenders and cut their disappointing lives short with her sword and war fan. The other earth-, water- and firebenders reaped their own bloody tally of deluded Fire Lord loyalists, who seemed so used to dealing with civilians that they forgot what real combat was like.
The noble born officers put up an equally pathetic fight. Lacking the distance required for traditional firebending, so ingrained was their orthodox training that most did their desperate best to disengage from their enemy so that they could fall into their stances. As such, they barely got a lick of fire out before their foes were right up in their faces and murdered them.
Those with weapons tried to wield them, but compared to hardened warriors like Suki, it was like pitting pickens against a porcupython. Masterwork swords and spears and axes fell from dead hands as the plainer and more practical variants wielded from the 11th simply outfought the nobles whose skills in dueling and fighting criminals proved highly inadequate.
In the middle of it all, Xing was casually murdering his way towards High General Wulong. Brave men tried to stand in his way, and those brave men died screaming as their armor melted against their seared flesh. There was a visible distortion in the air around Xing that left a trail of sizzling earth where he walked, while fire bolts evaporated into nothingness trying to get close to him. Someone tried to lunge at him, but the poor fool barely managed to let out a cry as his skin and lungs froze.
“One last chance.” Xing’s voice cut through the din of one-sided combat, and those on his side graciously paused their slaughter. “Surrender, high general, and deliver a message for me to the Fire Lord.”
“I’ll not-”
Again Wulong didn’t get to finish his sentence, as Xing pointed an open palm at the high general’s face in a quick motion and a blast of white flame erased Wulong’s head and most of his upper chest, along with several of his men unfortunate enough to be standing behind him.
Xing turned his head laconically at the surviving nobles. “Those who wish to help me deliver my message get to live.”
Nearly all of the enemy dropped to their knees and prostrated themselves in that instant, begging for the Scorpion’s mercy. Those few who chose a defiant end were promptly granted a variety of excruciating ends. Azula couldn’t hold back a wince as Kilin forced a water whip down a captain’s throat which then expanded so fast that the poor man exploded in a bloody mess.
The first message, intended for the survivors, has been made clear. The bulk of the enemy’s command have either surrendered or been killed. Which left the rest of the soldiery to be dealt with before they could move on to sending the next message.
Azula felt giddy excitement as her fiance’s gaze fixed onto her. “Orochi,” he simply said aloud.
“Quai Yin,” Azula said with equal clarity.
The dragons responded to their names by unfurling themselves from under the heavy capes of the prince and princess. Orochi swam out from behind Xing with a lazy rasp, while Quai Yin let out a yip that sounded mildly bemused to Azula’s ears.
Ignoring the stares from the stunned newly-acquired prisoners, the princess assuaged the dragon’s annoyance by gently patting Quai Yin’s head as she curled up around Azula’s neck like an overlong scarf. “There, there… It wasn’t that long a ride, was it?” she cooed. “Look on the bright side, this is your big reveal. Now you get to play in the open.”
The purr from Quai Yin sent a pleasant vibration against Azula’s neck, and the dragon then unfurled itself to fly next to its sibling and face Xing, who swept an arm across the mass of fleeing men behind him.
“There’s several thousand men out there that’s never seen a dragon. A good crowd to make your debut?”
Both dragons, each already almost as long as Azula was tall, let out adorable yips that sent the prostrated nobles quivering with fresh terror.
Xing turned to Azula again just as he snapped his fingers. To her surprise, Azula saw Bofang, one of Xing’s bodyguards, walk up to her with a bow and a single arrow. “Care to do the honors, my princess?”
She didn’t bother to hide her flattered grin. “Truly, Xing, you spoil me.” Azula took both bow and arrow in her hands, and the dragons flew up behind her.
“Now,” Xing instructed the dragons, “try and herd them if you can. Let some run. But otherwise…have fun.” He then gave Azula a single, grinning nod. “You remember the words?”
“Of course.”
The princess nocked the arrow and pulled the bowstring back, royal pride insisting that she draw the warbow fully even if it was just a symbolic gesture. Now, what was that string of nonsense Xing found amusing again?
Ah, right.
“Ryu ga waga teki o kurau!”
The arrow was loosed at the mass of panicking soldiers, and as rehearsed, the dragons darted after it, spiraling mesmerizingly around each other as they flew. Revealed to the world at last, they let out their first true roars, which sent goosebumps racing up Azula’s arms and back, and froze much of the battlefield in dread and wonder.
And then for the first time in decades, thousands of people witnessed dragons’ fire being exhaled. Due to their pre-juvenile sizes, only scores out of those thousands died from the flames. The dragons split up after burning a straight path, and each took one flank to burn, claw and bite as they pleased. As Xing said, it was their debut, so both dragons were keen to leave an impression.
“I suppose that wraps it up for us?”
Azula watched Yama’s earthbenders and Kilin’s waterbenders nod with varying degrees of satisfaction, before giving her own pleased nod.
“You weren’t kidding when you said you were gonna make a scene,” Yama remarked, glancing at the dragons every now and then.
Kilin was far more sanguine in her comment. “The dragons have returned to exact their vengeance on the Fire Nation that drove them to extinction. A powerful message indeed.”
“Hopefully powerful enough to get through the thick skulls of the home island nobles,” Azula added, glancing down at the cowering men around her.
“Well, I’m sure they’ll realize their guilt once we feed them to Orochi and Quai Yin,” Xing said mostly for effect.
Azula played along with a bored sigh. “Remember to strip the food down, the dragons are still too young to have metal or cloth as part of their diet.” She then pretended to just notice a group of fearful nobles just to the side and fixed her glare at them. “On an unrelated note, Xing, we should be fully disarming our prisoners right now, shouldn’t we?”
Despite how sharply it stung her nose, Azula found herself grinning with glee as the stench of several people shitting and pissing themselves in fear filled the air.
