A Journey That Changed The World

Chapter 1464: Come In Handy When We Land

Elara followed the arching barrage just as it struck the Alliance fleet with apocalyptic force, explosions ripping through their ranks. Fireballs erupted across the horizon, causing her blue eyes to widen in shock as her body trembled.

’’Husband created these things! They will help us win this war!’’ she muttered, excitement welling up inside her.

Moments later, a mana screen appeared on the bridge, showing a scene of steel hulls buckling under the impact, plumes of black smoke billowing into the sky, staining the morning light.

’Even with a smaller fleet we can fight the Alliance,’ her thoughts raced with all kinds of plans and scenarios that will help Draconoa.

Just then, missiles slammed into the lead Alliance battleship, tearing through its bow and sending it listing to starboard as flames erupted from the strike. The 2nd Fleet’s cannons pounded a cruiser’s flank, igniting its munitions in a massive blast.

Meanwhile, the two women watched as the 3rd Fleet’s salvo destroyed a frigate in a wave of mana shells, the ship disintegrating in a shower of sparks and debris that rained into the churning sea.

Following that, Olivia’s steely gaze fixed on the expanse of the battle unfolding. The Alliance fleet, battered and faltering, struggled to hold formation under the merciless onslaught of enemy fire.

The ocean below churned violently, its waves roiling with the conflict, reflecting the fiery bursts of wild mana and the jagged flashes of shattered hulls. Each explosion shook the air, thanks to the devastation.

Elara noticed the older woman’s white hair lashed wildly in the gale-force winds, her piercing pink eyes locked on the tactical map and the Alliance fleet as she orchestrated the 1st, 2nd, and 3rd Draconian Fleets with breathtaking skill.

’’2nd Fleet, execute a double-pincer formation, smash their eastern flank and shred their destroyers with concentrated fire!’’ she bellowed, her voice cracking like a whip as she redirected the missile swarm to obliterate a cruiser in a fireball.

’’3rd Fleet, unleash a staggered rolling barrage, alternate cannon volleys with missile salvos to shatter their Mana Shields and ignite their shell stores on the storage vessels!’’ Olivia roared, her commands reduced an enemy frigate to a spiraling inferno.

The Dragonkin woman was amazed as the vessels began to collapse into ruin. A battleship exploded, its deck a raging inferno, before it lurched and plunged into the depths, dragging screams into the abyss.

A frigate, its hull torn open by a direct hit, listed dangerously to the side, its crew leaping into the icy sea as it vanished in a hiss of steam and fire. The Draconian fleets, fueled by Olivia’s genius, turned the tide into a relentless tempest of destruction.

Moments later, she witnessed the ocean swallowing the enemy’s shattered hulks with each thunderous sinking, the surface alive with the crackle of burning oil and the groan of breaking steel.

Elara watched in wide-eyed astonishment, her breath stolen as her sister wife’s mastery of the sea unfolded in a whirlwind of war. She commanded with the ferocity of a storm, her orders a relentless torrent that left no enemy standing.

As the last Alliance ship erupted in a final, earth-shaking blast before sinking beneath the waves, Elara surged forward, her voice a triumphant cry. ’’By the gods of Thrylos, she is the finest Admiral I’ve ever seen!’’ she proclaimed in awe.

Following that, Olivia looked at her with a knowing smile. ’’Prepare to land on Darkthorne, Lara, we’ll cover you from here.’’

***

An hour later, Elara surged forward at the helm of the lead landing craft, an ironclad behemoth slicing through the churning ocean. Flanking her were twenty Oathkeepers that Archer had assigned to her.

’They will come in handy when we land,’ she thought with glowing blue eyes.

Behind her in the remaining seats, the First Company accompanied her as the 1st Legion thundered across the waves, hundreds of smaller vessels packed with battle-hardened soldiers charging toward the jagged shoreline.

The air crackled with anticipation, the horizon ablaze with the promise of glory and bloodshed. Seconds later, she noticed the Demons, entrenched along the cliffs, unleashed a torrent of searing, powerful mana bolts.

Explosions tore through the fleet, and several landing craft erupted into fireballs, their wreckage swallowed by the sea. Elara’s blood boiled, her rage a molten inferno as she watched her soldiers’ lives snuffed out.

’’Damn them!’’ she snarled, her grip on her sword’s hilt so tight her knuckles gleamed white. ’’The defenders will pay in blood!’’

Yet the fleet struck back using Thunderbolt Throwers, cannons, and missiles, hurling arcs of devastating Mana Shells that obliterated Demon defences in bursts of fire and ash as the waves of blasts stopped raining down on the landing craft.

When Elara’s craft got close, she noticed the shore quaked under the barrage, and her heart pounded with a savage thrill as her invasion fleet closed the distance, undeterred, their war cries rising above the chaos.

As they surged closer to the Darkthorne Empire’s shores, the enemy’s fire suddenly intensified, a storm of searing bolts raining down. The ocean boiled with the fury of the assault, waves crashing against the hulls as explosions lit the crimson sky.

Elara stood at the prow, her eyes blazing with defiance, her sword gleaming in the flickering light of detonations. The air screamed with the shrieks of Demon artillery, yet the landing craft pressed forward.

When getting close, she heard the weapons roar just as Mana Blasts tore through the fortifications, reducing stone to ruin. Minutes later, her craft shuddered as it grazed the sandy shore, its ramp slamming down with a thunderous boom.

Elara leapt onto the sand, her boots sinking into the ash-strewn battlefield, as hundreds of vessels disgorged warriors. From the cliffs above, the Demon Imperial Guard descended like a tide, their armor glinting with their weapons spitting flames.

But they were ready as the Oathkeepers stormed forward, their massive forms shaking the earth with each step. Their giant blades hummed with pure mana, and their shields absorbed the brunt of the first attack.

The clash was cataclysmic. On the blood-soaked sands, the Oathkeeper Knights met the Demons in a vicious melee, steel and fire colliding in a symphony of destruction. Sparks flew as Elara carved through the enemy ranks, her sword a blur, felling foes with every strike.

As the battle went on, the air thrummed with war cries and the screech of metal, the shore trembling beneath the weight of the titanic struggle. Above, the sky burned with the trails of artillery, but her heart sang with the thrill of battle.

’’I’m thrilled to lead the First Legion into battle,’’ she said, her blade flashing as she killed three Demon Knights, their deaths so fast they never saw it coming.

After that, the Draconian Legionnaires and Drakeguards surged forward across the ash-strewn beach. She stood at the forefront, her blade a whirlwind of steel as she carved through the Demon ranks.

Her earlier triumph over three foes was but a prelude to the chaos now unfolding. The enemies, their eyes glowing like embers, snarled and swung their serrated blades, but they fought with skill and determination.

The legion moved as one, as they pressed the enemy back. A Demon Captain, towering and wreathed in black armor that looked menacing, lunged in her direction, its mace arcing toward her skull.

Elara sidestepped and drove her blade through its chest, toppling it into the surf. ’’Forward, Draconians! For the Emperor!’’ she roared, her voice cutting through the clash of steel and the guttural shrieks of the Demons.

Her legion answered with a thunderous cry, their spears and swords slashing through the enemy lines. The Demons faltered under the ferocity. Their rear ranks began to splinter, retreating toward the rocky cliffs that loomed at the beach’s edge.

Draconian archers, perched on the shattered hull of a warship, loosed volleys of arrows that rained down like a storm of iron. Demons fell, their bodies crumpling into the frothing waves and being dragged out to sea.

Elara’s second-in-command hurled a javelin that pierced a fleeing Demon Knight’s spine, pinning it to the ground. ’’No quarter!’’ she bellowed, rallying the troops to press their advantage.

She noticed that the beach, littered with broken weapons and smoldering corpses, became a testament to the Draconians’ resolve. Step by bloodied step, they drove the Demons back, claiming the shoreline as their own.

The enemy’s retreat grew frantic, their commands dissolving into panicked cries as they scrambled up the cliffs before being slaughtered, leaving behind a trail of shattered armor and scorched earth.

Elara planted her boot on a fallen Demon commander’s chest, surveying the hard-won ground. The beach was theirs, a foothold secured against impossible odds. Her legion gathered around her, their breaths heavy but their eyes alight with victory.

’’This is only the beginning,’’ she said, her voice steady as she pointed her blade toward the cliffs. ’’We hold this ground, and tomorrow, we take their stronghold at the top of the cliff for the emperor’s return.’’

Following that, the Draconians set up a camp on the beach as more soldiers landed, thanks to the constant stream of landing craft appearing from the 1st Fleet that was protecting them from the bigger cannons of the enemy.

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