CHAPTER 71 – GOLDCLIFF CITY RAID
HIRAYA MISTELTEIN
The persistent tick-tock of the clock reverberated, each second amplifying my mounting tension. My fingers drummed an impatient rhythm against the cold, metallic table, a silent testament to my restless unease.
Within the command nexus of the airship S.S. Serena, an intricate web of monitors illuminated the dim room. Each screen pulsated with real-time footage, showcasing the perspectives of my elite soldiers, their headcams capturing every intricate detail. Among them, a mosaic of Goldcliff City unfolded, its layout meticulously displayed on additional monitors. A mystical sonar beacon flickered, its ethereal glow revealing the lurking presence of dragonoids in the vicinity.
Goldcliff City, once a bastion of freedom, had succumbed to the iron grip of the Republic of Dragons. The Empire of Alterra now harbored a relentless ambition to reclaim this urban relic, primarily driven by Gazelle Lockwood's poignant ties to the place and the tantalizing possibility of locating him there. Yet, another motive fueled our resolve.
Amidst the towering spires and modern facades of Goldcliff City, an industrialized mound rose defiantly, crowned by the Cathedral Exa. Unlike its ancient counterparts, this architectural marvel boasted steel fortifications, eschewing the time-honored stained glass for avant-garde transparent panels. Yet, our mission transcended mere aesthetics; our sights were set on its lofty bell tower.
Whispers from an enigmatic seer had unveiled a chilling truth: these bell towers acted as conduits for the Dragon Lord Commandment. This nefarious spell bestowed dragonoids within a five-kilometer radius with the terrifying ability to metamorphose into formidable dragons at whim. By dismantling this arcane nexus, we aimed to cripple the Republic, severing their arcane lifeline and tilting the scales of war in our favor.
A surge of frustration gripped me as my meticulously crafted plan to disable the bell tower just before the mission's kickoff unraveled, courtesy of a certain Regressor. With time slipping away, impatience became a luxury we could no longer afford, forcing me to initiate the operation sans my trump card.
"The first blood is mine! Hyaaaah!" Kate's triumphant cry resonated through one of the monitors. Her flaming sword danced with deadly grace, cleaving a dragonoid soldier in twain. The unfortunate foe convulsed in fiery agony until his demise.
"Well done, Kate. Now, head to the 15th floor of the mall," I commanded, securing a wireless headphone onto my left ear. Normal headsets proved impractical for my elven ears, prompting a customized single-ear piece crafted by a skilled technician.
Onscreen, an ominous procession of dragonoids advanced down the expressway, a formidable contingent of about fifty foot soldiers. Though not yet transformed, their potential as dragons demanded swift elimination.
"Charlotte, cut off the expressway," I directed through the headphone, urgency punctuating my words as the looming threat needed prompt neutralization.
"Affirmative, Captain," Charlotte retorted with a hint of playful defiance, her gaze fixated on the oil tanker obstructing the expressway.
With unerring precision, she squeezed the trigger of her sniper rifle. A solitary bullet streaked through the air, finding its mark in the heart of the oil-laden tanker. An infernal explosion ensued, a maelstrom of fire and destruction engulfing the advancing dragonoids, decimating the expressway and leaving a trail of smoldering ruin in its wake.
On the monitor, a cohort of twenty dragonoids converged upon a nearby parking lot, their movements betraying an intent to investigate the unfolding chaos surrounding Kate at the mall's perimeter. Fortunately, foresight had led me to lay a trap for such contingencies.
"Gaeun, destabilize the car park," I commanded through the specialized headphone, anticipation tingling at the prospect of ensnaring our unsuspecting adversaries.
"Y-Yes, Cap!" Gaeun responded, her voice quivering with a blend of determination and apprehension. Extending her wand with practiced grace, she intoned the incantation, "Asphalt Melt!" A wave of arcane energy pulsed forth, causing the very ground beneath the dragonoids to liquefy and ensnare them in a molten embrace.
Unbeknownst to the encroaching dragonoids, the parking facility was no mere surface lot; it spanned five subterranean levels. Gaeun's spell had selectively liquefied the upper layers of asphalt, concrete, and earth, creating a treacherous trap. As the ground gave way, a vortex of molten materials enveloped the unsuspecting foes, consigning them to a grim fate. Some met their end instantly, while others suffered grievous injuries amidst the cascading debris of melted asphalt, shattered steel bars, and fractured cement.
Suddenly, a cacophonous alarm pierced the air, emanating from a towering skyscraper. Its reverberations resonated with such intensity that even I, aboard the airship, five kilometers aloft, its ominous wail was unmistakable. The Republic had undoubtedly discerned the peril they were in.
"Cap, is Mister Dynamite Diarrhea primed?" Kate inquired, her expression oscillating between amusement and impatience, the fiery aftermath of her recent onslaught still lingering.
"Not yet," I responded tersely, my focus unwavering. "Ten adversaries lurk on the floor above you."
With a resolute cry, Kate unleashed a searing arc of flame upward. The ten dragonoids, caught off guard as they attempted to gain a tactical advantage, plummeted amidst a vortex of fire, their ill-fated maneuver met with the relentless fury of Kate's blazing sword.
"We should really have that bell tower taken down now," Charlotte grumbled, her words tinged with impatience. "Just saying, your highness. Maybe you should drag him out of the toilet and toss him down here already."
"Not yeeet~," I replied, a smile playing on my lips, though a trace of irritation betrayed my calm facade. "Charlotte, snipe those dragonoids at five o’clock. They are about to transform into dragons."
"Got it." Five suppressed gunshots sliced through the air, swiftly silencing five unsuspecting dragonoids. They crumpled without a hint of awareness of their impending doom.
Suddenly, crimson pillars of light materialized, heralding the transformation of dragonoids scattered throughout Goldcliff City into formidable dragons. The majestic creatures took to the skies, surveying the tumultuous battlefield.
"U-Um, Captain Hiraya? W-We might need Dynamite Diarrhea—I mean, Lysander’s help here," Gaeun stammered, her grip on her magic wand betraying her rising panic.
I sighed deeply. "Trust me, Gaeun. If only I could go down there and whack that bell tower on my own, I would have done it twenty minutes ago." My fists clenched in frustration, silently vowing to hold Lysander accountable for this ordeal once he inevitably appeared.
After an interminable ten seconds, the devil himself, Dynamite Diarrhea, made his entrance into the command room. The man, the myth, the legend—Lysander—stood before us, his silver hair disheveled and his azure eyes twinkling with an oddly apologetic glint. Despite not yet engaging in battle, he appeared drenched in sweat, rivulets cascading down his forehead. Unbeknownst to him, a strip of toilet paper clung to his pants like an unwitting accessory.
"About time," I remarked, crossing my arms beneath my ample bosom, my smile thinly veiling the furrowed brows that betrayed my waning patience. "Are you done with your shit? I mean, literally and figuratively."
"I-I’m sorry, Hiraya. I’m finally here and ready," Lysander replied, offering a forced smile.
I walked up beside him, unable to resist a mischievous act. In a swift motion, I slapped his backside and discreetly removed the strip of toilet paper that clung to him, all without him noticing.
"Ow! Why did you pat my ass?" Lysander protested. "You pervert!"
"I’m just slapping your shit back together so that you won’t get any problems later on," I retorted with an innocent smile.
Seizing the initiative, I took Lysander by the wrist and briskly led him to the hangar. A pallor had settled on his features, a testament to the toll of his extended visits to the airship’s toilet room. Dehydration might have been gnawing at him, but his recovery could wait. A war unfolded five kilometers below, and action beckoned us both.
As the hangar doors swung open, a rush of powerful wind enveloped us. Glancing at Lysander, who appeared somewhat frail, he met my gaze and nodded with a faint smile. In response, we clasped hands, bracing ourselves for the imminent plunge. Together, we leaped into the open sky, embracing the free fall like seasoned skydivers.
Clutching my heart, a radiant golden light emanated, and I uttered, "Activating Vesryn Pulse!"
In the blink of an eye, Lysander transformed into his majestic Trailblazer Dragon form, with me perched atop his head. Yet, there was a twist to our descent. Fifteen menacing dragons guarded the bell tower, their fiery crimson eyes fixated upon us, poised for a confrontation.
CHAPTER 71 – GOLDCLIFF CITY RAID
HIRAYA MISTELTEIN
The persistent tick-tock of the clock reverberated, each second amplifying my mounting tension. My fingers drummed an impatient rhythm against the cold, metallic table, a silent testament to my restless unease.
Within the command nexus of the airship S.S. Serena, an intricate web of monitors illuminated the dim room. Each screen pulsated with real-time footage, showcasing the perspectives of my elite soldiers, their headcams capturing every intricate detail. Among them, a mosaic of Goldcliff City unfolded, its layout meticulously displayed on additional monitors. A mystical sonar beacon flickered, its ethereal glow revealing the lurking presence of dragonoids in the vicinity.
Goldcliff City, once a bastion of freedom, had succumbed to the iron grip of the Republic of Dragons. The Empire of Alterra now harbored a relentless ambition to reclaim this urban relic, primarily driven by Gazelle Lockwood's poignant ties to the place and the tantalizing possibility of locating him there. Yet, another motive fueled our resolve.
Amidst the towering spires and modern facades of Goldcliff City, an industrialized mound rose defiantly, crowned by the Cathedral Exa. Unlike its ancient counterparts, this architectural marvel boasted steel fortifications, eschewing the time-honored stained glass for avant-garde transparent panels. Yet, our mission transcended mere aesthetics; our sights were set on its lofty bell tower.
Whispers from an enigmatic seer had unveiled a chilling truth: these bell towers acted as conduits for the Dragon Lord Commandment. This nefarious spell bestowed dragonoids within a five-kilometer radius with the terrifying ability to metamorphose into formidable dragons at whim. By dismantling this arcane nexus, we aimed to cripple the Republic, severing their arcane lifeline and tilting the scales of war in our favor.
A surge of frustration gripped me as my meticulously crafted plan to disable the bell tower just before the mission's kickoff unraveled, courtesy of a certain Regressor. With time slipping away, impatience became a luxury we could no longer afford, forcing me to initiate the operation sans my trump card.
"The first blood is mine! Hyaaaah!" Kate's triumphant cry resonated through one of the monitors. Her flaming sword danced with deadly grace, cleaving a dragonoid soldier in twain. The unfortunate foe convulsed in fiery agony until his demise.
"Well done, Kate. Now, head to the 15th floor of the mall," I commanded, securing a wireless headphone onto my left ear. Normal headsets proved impractical for my elven ears, prompting a customized single-ear piece crafted by a skilled technician.
Onscreen, an ominous procession of dragonoids advanced down the expressway, a formidable contingent of about fifty foot soldiers. Though not yet transformed, their potential as dragons demanded swift elimination.
"Charlotte, cut off the expressway," I directed through the headphone, urgency punctuating my words as the looming threat needed prompt neutralization.
"Affirmative, Captain," Charlotte retorted with a hint of playful defiance, her gaze fixated on the oil tanker obstructing the expressway.
With unerring precision, she squeezed the trigger of her sniper rifle. A solitary bullet streaked through the air, finding its mark in the heart of the oil-laden tanker. An infernal explosion ensued, a maelstrom of fire and destruction engulfing the advancing dragonoids, decimating the expressway and leaving a trail of smoldering ruin in its wake.
On the monitor, a cohort of twenty dragonoids converged upon a nearby parking lot, their movements betraying an intent to investigate the unfolding chaos surrounding Kate at the mall's perimeter. Fortunately, foresight had led me to lay a trap for such contingencies.
"Gaeun, destabilize the car park," I commanded through the specialized headphone, anticipation tingling at the prospect of ensnaring our unsuspecting adversaries.
"Y-Yes, Cap!" Gaeun responded, her voice quivering with a blend of determination and apprehension. Extending her wand with practiced grace, she intoned the incantation, "Asphalt Melt!" A wave of arcane energy pulsed forth, causing the very ground beneath the dragonoids to liquefy and ensnare them in a molten embrace.
Unbeknownst to the encroaching dragonoids, the parking facility was no mere surface lot; it spanned five subterranean levels. Gaeun's spell had selectively liquefied the upper layers of asphalt, concrete, and earth, creating a treacherous trap. As the ground gave way, a vortex of molten materials enveloped the unsuspecting foes, consigning them to a grim fate. Some met their end instantly, while others suffered grievous injuries amidst the cascading debris of melted asphalt, shattered steel bars, and fractured cement.
Suddenly, a cacophonous alarm pierced the air, emanating from a towering skyscraper. Its reverberations resonated with such intensity that even I, aboard the airship, five kilometers aloft, its ominous wail was unmistakable. The Republic had undoubtedly discerned the peril they were in.
"Cap, is Mister Dynamite Diarrhea primed?" Kate inquired, her expression oscillating between amusement and impatience, the fiery aftermath of her recent onslaught still lingering.
"Not yet," I responded tersely, my focus unwavering. "Ten adversaries lurk on the floor above you."
With a resolute cry, Kate unleashed a searing arc of flame upward. The ten dragonoids, caught off guard as they attempted to gain a tactical advantage, plummeted amidst a vortex of fire, their ill-fated maneuver met with the relentless fury of Kate's blazing sword.
"We should really have that bell tower taken down now," Charlotte grumbled, her words tinged with impatience. "Just saying, your highness. Maybe you should drag him out of the toilet and toss him down here already."
"Not yeeet~," I replied, a smile playing on my lips, though a trace of irritation betrayed my calm facade. "Charlotte, snipe those dragonoids at five o’clock. They are about to transform into dragons."
"Got it." Five suppressed gunshots sliced through the air, swiftly silencing five unsuspecting dragonoids. They crumpled without a hint of awareness of their impending doom.
Suddenly, crimson pillars of light materialized, heralding the transformation of dragonoids scattered throughout Goldcliff City into formidable dragons. The majestic creatures took to the skies, surveying the tumultuous battlefield.
"U-Um, Captain Hiraya? W-We might need Dynamite Diarrhea—I mean, Lysander’s help here," Gaeun stammered, her grip on her magic wand betraying her rising panic.
I sighed deeply. "Trust me, Gaeun. If only I could go down there and whack that bell tower on my own, I would have done it twenty minutes ago." My fists clenched in frustration, silently vowing to hold Lysander accountable for this ordeal once he inevitably appeared.
After an interminable ten seconds, the devil himself, Dynamite Diarrhea, made his entrance into the command room. The man, the myth, the legend—Lysander—stood before us, his silver hair disheveled and his azure eyes twinkling with an oddly apologetic glint. Despite not yet engaging in battle, he appeared drenched in sweat, rivulets cascading down his forehead. Unbeknownst to him, a strip of toilet paper clung to his pants like an unwitting accessory.
"About time," I remarked, crossing my arms beneath my ample bosom, my smile thinly veiling the furrowed brows that betrayed my waning patience. "Are you done with your shit? I mean, literally and figuratively."
"I-I’m sorry, Hiraya. I’m finally here and ready," Lysander replied, offering a forced smile.
I walked up beside him, unable to resist a mischievous act. In a swift motion, I slapped his backside and discreetly removed the strip of toilet paper that clung to him, all without him noticing.
"Ow! Why did you pat my ass?" Lysander protested. "You pervert!"
"I’m just slapping your shit back together so that you won’t get any problems later on," I retorted with an innocent smile.
Seizing the initiative, I took Lysander by the wrist and briskly led him to the hangar. A pallor had settled on his features, a testament to the toll of his extended visits to the airship’s toilet room. Dehydration might have been gnawing at him, but his recovery could wait. A war unfolded five kilometers below, and action beckoned us both.
As the hangar doors swung open, a rush of powerful wind enveloped us. Glancing at Lysander, who appeared somewhat frail, he met my gaze and nodded with a faint smile. In response, we clasped hands, bracing ourselves for the imminent plunge. Together, we leaped into the open sky, embracing the free fall like seasoned skydivers.
Clutching my heart, a radiant golden light emanated, and I uttered, "Activating Vesryn Pulse!"
In the blink of an eye, Lysander transformed into his majestic Trailblazer Dragon form, with me perched atop his head. Yet, there was a twist to our descent. Fifteen menacing dragons guarded the bell tower, their fiery crimson eyes fixated upon us, poised for a confrontation.
