Chapter 1114: War of Establishment XI

Chapter 1114: War of Establishment XI

Leon felt incredible. Magic power filled his body, and his body feasted upon it, using the ocean of power flowing into him from the Iron Needle to heal his wounds and obliterate the shards of black ice crawling toward his heart. With such power within him, he’d never felt so alive, so powerful.

He cast his gaze about the room, noting that Clear Day had stopped projecting a shield of light at some point while he admired the power of the Iron Needle. The other healers were slowly starting to regain their composure, while Leon’s family was a little more present and frantic.

“Your Majesty,” Clear Day stated, his tone rather neutral but carrying an undercurrent of surprise. He wasn’t able to get another word out before Elise darted forward and threw her hands around Leon’s neck. She moved so quickly that Leon feared she might accidentally impale herself upon Iron Pride.

“You’re back,” Elise cried into his shoulder as her arms tightened around him. “I was... so worried!”

Before Leon could respond, Maia joined them, sending love and relief flooding through their connection. Then Valeria laid a hand on his arm while Cassandra draped herself over them, grinning like a madwoman.

“Knew you wouldn’t die,” the golden-haired Imperial Princess stated.

“You were as worried as the rest of us,” Valeria countered.

Cassandra stared at her like she’d been betrayed, but Leon quickly jumped in before they could say anything more.

“I’m alive, I’m intact,” he said. “There’s nothing I want to do more than stay with all of you, but—”

He didn’t have to make his point; another shot from an enemy Lance hit nearby, shaking the portable villa and covering it in shards of ice. It almost looked like it had been snowing on the mountain.

“I have to get out there.”

“You’re leaving again?!” Elise cried as she tightened her grip around him even more.

Maia, too, made her feelings known by holding him tighter, though Valeria and Cassandra withdrew and wore expressions of determination—they wanted to accompany him.

“I have to,” Leon responded.

“Your Majesty,” Clear Day interrupted, “how is your physical condition?”

“Fully restored,” Leon answered.

Clear Day looked like he wanted to say more, but after a moment’s thought, he lowered his head slightly and backed down. “Do be careful,” he stated. “I’d hate to have to do this all again...”

“No need to worry on that front,” Leon said as he extricated himself from Elise and Maia. “I... I think this time will go a little differently.”

“NO!” Elise exclaimed. “You need to stay!”

With barely more than a thought, Leon returned Iron Pride to his soul realm, then laid his hands on his first wife’s shoulders. “I have to do this. Look outside. There’s no choice in this; I have to fight.”

Elise opened and closed her mouth a few times, looking like she wanted to argue the point. But after a moment, she just nodded and slowly sat down in the nearest chair. “You’d better come back alive,” she half-growled, half-implored. “If you die out there, I’ll kill you.”

Leon chuckled. “I’ll be careful. Just a quick war, we’ll get this done in a few minutes and be back in time for dinner.”

Elise snorted. “Promises, promises.”

With that, Leon glanced at his more martially-inclined wives, then to Anzu and Clear Day. “Who’s with me?”

The response was unanimous, all decided to join him.

“Move!” Clear Day shouted as Leon admired the power of his Universe Fragment.

Without question, Leon moved, and a moment later, more than a dozen Lance shots flew through the space he’d just been hovering.

With a laugh, Leon launched himself out over the plains. The misty veil was not going to cover him, so he decided to close the distance a bit and answer those Lance shots with the power of the Iron Needle.

Two more frigates, a destroyer, and a light cruiser ceased to be as he called upon the Iron Needle’s power again and again. His enemy was now starting to run low on arks, having been reduced to six frigates, four destroyers, four light cruisers, three heavy cruisers, and three carriers. They barely had enough to surround the Artor Valley, and Leon could see them breaking off their limited engagements in other directions to try and reinforce the south.

He was determined to ensure that they wouldn’t arrive in time to save anything, but as he shifted his attention to a new target, a giant of blood-red water erupted into being only a few hundred feet away and swung its massive fist at him.

Despite moving far more quickly than something of its size should’ve, Leon still easily dodged. So in control over the situation did he feel that instead of gaining more distance for himself, he raked Iron Pride’s blade through the giant’s arm, and lightning of many different colors flashed within its body.

The giant reeled from his strike, the Strategos in place of its heart flinching with pain even as the arm exploded into a cloud of vapor.

After tasting Leon’s lightning, the water mage seemed to decide to abandon all caution; the red giant suddenly disintegrated, the water of its body reforming into a massive flying squid with a hundred tentacles. These tentacles of red water, each about as thick as Leon’s shoulder width, struck out at him, attempting to either envelop him or knock him out of the sky.

Leon easily dodged, bobbing and weaving through the mess. It seemed that in addition to these physical attacks, drops of red water were thrown from the tentacles and attempted to either shoot through him or stick to his body, but flashes of silver-blue lightning vaporized these drops as they came close.

Reveling in this power, in this taste of cataclysmic strength that the Iron Needle was giving him, Leon indulged in this dance for a few seconds, during which he dodged more than a hundred attacks from the giant red squid. Then he reached out with his power, letting lightning stream from his body into the tentacles that surrounded him. Lightning, both black and silver-blue, flashed through the squid’s body and reached the Strategos in the watery construct’s center before he could react.

The Ocean Strategos convulsed and screamed in silent pain as the red water around him lost cohesion and fell, formless, to the plains below, leaving the Strategos himself barely remaining airborne and with only the defenses his armor provided.

Leon wasted no time gloating; he charged, silver-blue and black lightning rippling across the surface of Iron Pride. He swung the sword fifty feet away, and a wave of lightning flooded from his weapon and crashed into the Strategos.

An agonized, blood-curdling scream followed until it was unceremoniously cut off. As the lightning died down, a charred skeleton with the broken, blackened remnants of the Strategos’ armor stubbornly clinging to it, fell.

Leon breathed hard as he stared down at his fallen foe. All around the battlefield, the Ocean arks were pulling back, their losses staggering, their defeat in this exchange unquestionable. With confidence blooming in his heart, Leon almost shot toward the enemy camp, but the pain he felt finally broke through his power high, drawing his attention to his sword hand.

His fingers were burned black and locked around the hilt of Iron Pride. Flesh up to his elbow had likewise been scorched, and his blood poured from cracks in his solidly burned skin. The pain he felt started to become more insistent, and if his fingers were still capable of moving, he would’ve dropped his blade from the pain.

Leon had to stifle a scream as furious, ferocious auras filled the sky—two of the three remaining Ocean Strategoi were taking to the field and rocketing toward him.

A scowl spread across Leon’s face. Suddenly, this newfound power didn’t feel quite as glorious as it had only a moment ago. Iron Pride vibrated in his hand, eager to strike at more enemies, and Leon was forced to choose: continue his assault upon the enemy at the expense of his own body, or fall back?

The Strategoi would be upon him in seconds, he had to choose quickly. His golden eyes flickered between them, then to his family behind him as they emerged from the misty veil to back him up. He could even sense Anastasios and Eva drawing closer within the mist, ready to add their strength to his...

None of them would reach him in time to give the charging Strategoi pause. But with their support buoying him, Leon raised his blade and called upon the Iron Needle once more.

It immediately felt like a mistake as pain lanced through his entire body and his vision blurred. Black spots appeared and disappeared in his vision as black veins wound through his golden irises. The muscles in his right arm seized up as black lightning rushed through them, before being burned from the destructive heat.

Suddenly fearing a repeat of the unpleasant few days he’d spent with only one arm so long ago, Leon released the power building in Iron Pride before it was truly ready. A thin bolt of black lightning with an ash-gray core burst from the tip of his blade and slammed into the leading Diluvian Strategos. His enemy screamed in pain as his armor shattered and his body beneath was savagely burned.

But he wasn’t killed, and the burns weren’t nearly so extensive as to completely debilitate him; with a set expression of determination, the Diluvian Strategos kept charging at Leon, his killing intent pouring from his body and filling the horizon.

Taking that as his cue, Leon turned and shot backward. He met his family on the way back to the misty veil, and without hesitation, every one of them turned with him. With their retreat, the Ocean mages halted their charge, pulling back toward their camp—though Leon could feel the baleful glare of the one he’d hit with black lightning burning a hole in his back as he and his family vanished back into the mist.

Despite his pain and extensive injuries, a smile still spread across his face. More than a dozen defense towers along the wall protecting the Artor Valley had been destroyed, as had much infrastructure down in Artorion itself, but the enemy had been fought off, and now their numbers were low enough that they were no longer capable of launching further offensives—at least, no sane commander would launch any.

This, as far as Leon was concerned, was a win.