Spear of Destiny by James Baldwin (little bear else holmelund minarik .TXT) 📕

person flying off her back unconscious, or crushed the air from their lungs as she veered over the mesa and threw her wings open. We cut around the cliff edge, flying almost parallel to it before slingshotting back into the sky. Everyone but Suri ducked as Karalti buzzed over them, then wheeled around to slow herself and backwing down. She touched ground barely twenty feet from where Suri stood.

“You bloody show-offs.” She smirked up at us, her arms crossed, feet planted, her parachute sprawled across the ground behind her in a textbook-perfect landing.

“Yup!” Karalti bobbed her head. “Showing off is a mandatory part of being a dragon.”

“So, Taethawn!” I called down breathlessly. “You owe us a hundred olbia, and I’d say we have a deal.”

The Wing Commander, Istvan, Zlaslo and Captain Vilmos looked at one another, then started to clap. Taethawn’s men joined in, then Vash. Suri took Rin’s hand and bowed, pulling the startled Mercurion down with her.

“Yes, yesss, that we do. I can hardly believe what I just saw, but there it isss.” An excited smirk spread over Taethawn’s mouth. “I will give you two hundred of my finest to train in the ussse of these parachutes. But there is one condition.”

“Oh yeah?” I cocked my head.

He held up a claw. “One single jape about how cats always land on their feet, and neither I or my men will don one of these devices ever again.”

Chapter 24

Now that we had confirmation that our parachutes worked, it was time to start the preparations for our next big mission: prying Bas County out of Zoltan’s greedy hands. Operation Girlpower was far from the first mass combat quest we’d taken on, but The Last of Her House was unique among the quests I’d received since uploading to Archemi. It was completely open-ended, with no framework or parameters other than the timeline.

When Suri, Karalti, Rin and I had come to Myszno to fight Ashur, it was with a Royal Commission, with Ignas’ forces and an active campaign strategy. It wasn’t a GOOD strategy, but we’d been able to hit the ground running after arriving at the Prezyemi Line. The recapture of Bas, while not on the same scale, had no pre-existing strategic groundwork. The success—or failure—of the mission was ours and ours alone. And it wasn’t just Kitti’s safety and the security of the province at risk, either. If we aced this quest, it would push us into the next Renown tier for Myszno, which meant that I would reach new heights of popularity with a province that was still wary of having an outsider as Voivode. With Renown came the most precious resource in the world: Morale. Morale would increase the loyalty of my military and subjects, and make it easier to recruit volunteers and allies within Myszno.

Through the evening and over the next day, Suri mercilessly drilled the soldiers Taethawn picked for the airborne part of the mission. Two hundred Meewfolk, all of them hardened combat vets skilled in close-weapon fighting, had a day and a night to learn how to skydive into a combat zone. In the real world, it wouldn’t have been possible. Here, under Suri’s instruction and with repeated practice, our commandos were able to gain competency ridiculously fast. If we had the time, we planned to roll out airborne training to as many of the Royal 2nd Company personnel as we could. There was no reason an entire crew had to die because their airship went down.

While Suri did that, I found myself neck deep in meetings and the Kingdom Management System, organizing the deployment of our forces. The officers came together with me in my quarters, and we hashed out our operational strategy in record time. The plan was straightforward enough. Inclusive of the Royal Navy, we had one Hussar-class Destroyer and six Bathory-class Skirmishers at our disposal. Between all of them, we could port 1900 troops, more than enough to take on Zoltan’s rabble in Solonovka. We would leave at night, arriving at 4am, when Archemi’s giant moon was on the horizon and cast the least amount of light. The lead ship would be carrying a hundred and twenty-five paratroopers: Taethawn and his men, a single platoon of Nightstalkers rogues, plus me, Suri, and Karalti. Karalti and I would jump outside the castle, using our stealth and darkness abilities to take out key guard positions. Once we were clear, I would alert Suri, who would lead the Nightstalkers and Orphans. Once the Nightstalkers touched down, their job was to breach doors and silently take out sentries deeper within the castle grounds. The Meewfolk were the assault force, charged with battling once our cover was blown and the fight inevitably turned into a melee. When it did, Karalti would assume her dragon form, and threaten to burn Zoltan and his inner circle out of the castle if they wouldn’t budge. There was an important psychological reason why Karalti needed to stay polymorphed until the end—Vlachians worshipped the Nine, the gods of the dragons, and considered dragons to be sacred avatars of said gods. Shock and awe being what they were, the effect of her abrupt appearance would either force a surrender, and-or scare the shit out of Zoltan and his thugs.

There were two backup plans: the one the officers knew about, and the one they didn’t. The one they knew about involved the airships and a second assault force. If required, it would launch the Royal Quazi Dragoons and their mages, who would provide cover for a botched assault. The ships themselves had weapons, and—thanks to Rin—improved magical shields. They would descend to engage.

And the plan they didn’t know about? Let’s just say it involved a lot of dead bodies and some questionably ethical vampiric powers.

By eleven pm, I was still tits-deep in the Kingdom Management System, checking over our ordnance and troop health, when there was a soft knock