Amelia floated in the sky like a wraith, her shadow-clad form indistinct against the swirling clouds of smoke and fire that now stained the air. Her gaze never wavered from the three King Vasily-class airships, whose immense bulk dominated the horizon. Their wards shimmered like translucent domes of pale light, taunting her.

  A dozen rounds were exchanged, and nothing managed to break those protections. She thought she had long since stopped comparing herself to Leonard, but it seemed she still held a vestige of pride if she was so annoyed at failing where he succeeded.

  That they had used the time to shred her servants only added insult to injury.

  Amelia stretched out her arms, the blackened armor encasing her shifting like liquid obsidian. In response, the air around her rippled, and new shadows began to coalesce from the pools that formed. Portals of writhing blackness opened one by one, spreading outward like a spider’s web until the sky teemed with shadowy forms.

  An army of flying shapes emerged—humanoid constructs with sharp-edged wings and blade-like claws. Silent and cold, the [Nightmares] surged forward, diving toward the victorious Griffin Knights.

  The first clash was chaotic.

  The shadow’s blades sliced through silver armor while the Knights retaliated with arming spells and coordinated attacks. The Griffins shrieked as they twisted through the air to avoid deathly blows, their riders shouting commands and loosing enchanted bolts that dissolved the constructs one by one. Yet for every shadow that fell, another rose from the portals.

  Amelia felt the battle unfold with a detached calm. She had no intention of joining the melee. Her focus was on the airships, who had so far managed to match her.

  Soon, the balance would shift, but she’d like to have left her mark before then.

  She focused her will, deciding to punish the arrogance she could feel in the mere mortals who thought they could fight her and win. The air thickened, and the sunlight dimmed to a faint, gray haze. From her outstretched palm, a beam of pure darkness lanced forth.

  It slammed into the lead airship’s ward with a force that shook the heavens. The impact rippled outward in concentric waves, and the ward flickered visibly, drawing panicked shouts from the crew inside.

  Even this is not enough. I have to wonder just how Haylich has developed such powerful mobile wards when the best they can do for their towns would have long since shattered. But I already know the answer. The airships have the interest of the high nobles, while Hetnia’s towns do not.

  Her eyes narrowed, and the glow of purple intensified as she poured more of herself into the attack. The beam surged, the dark energy coiling tighter, its edges crackling with amethyst lightning. She could feel the ward weakening further, and the strain on the airship’s magical systems was visible even from this distance.

  And then, before she could stress it to failure, the two other airships retaliated.

  A sudden barrage erupted from their cannons, filling the air with streaks of fire and disintegrating bolts. Amelia’s instincts screamed, and she broke off her spell, vanishing into the shadows just as the projectiles reached her position.

  Behind her, a wide stretch of farmland exploded in a series of deafening booms, consumed by fire within moments. The heat from the impact washed over her even at a distance, and she gritted her teeth as she reappeared farther away, her cloak of shadows swirling protectively.

  Amelia darted through the air as a streak of black against the chaotic sky, dodging as more artillery fire streaked toward her. Every time she moved, her shadowy form flickered, making her appear almost intangible.

  The battle became a blur of motion and destruction.

  She sent another spear of condensed shadow lancing toward the closest airship, aimed at the engines. Its ward flared, catching the spell just in time, but the impact rocked the vessel.

  Meanwhile, her shadow constructs swarmed the Griffins, forcing the Knights to tighten their formation. Yet the mounts were skilled, working in tandem with their riders to pick off the constructs swiftly and ruthlessly.

  A sudden burst of light drew Amelia’s attention. One of the airships had launched a massive, glowing projectile—a bomb imbued with enough mana to level a city block. She shifted her focus, summoning a wall of shadows to intercept it, calculating in an instant that should she avoid it, it would fall upon the army and crack through the shields. The bomb struck her barrier, and the resulting explosion tore through the fabric of the spell and sent shockwaves that rattled her to the core.

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  She grunted in annoyance, feeling her reserves beginning to wane. The battle was taking its toll.

  Amelia refused to falter. Again, she asked for her contract to be fulfilled, and again, it came through. Dark mana filled her veins, and she dove toward the closest airship, weaving through a storm of cannon fire and spell bursts. Her cloak of shadows writhed, extending into sharp tendrils that lashed against the ward. It flickered again, weaker this time. A single breach was all she needed, but to maintain her onslaught, she’d need to be able to focus on one for at least a minute. That was time the other vessels knew better than to give her.

  The airships, too, were showing signs of strain. Their flight patterns had grown more erratic as the crews were forced to respond to her tactics and their firepower less coordinated. Even the Griffins faltered, their ranks thinning under the constant pressure from the ever-increasing shadow constructs.

  The battle wore on in an endless cycle of attacks and counterattacks. Amelia’s breaths came in sharp gasps, the strain of maintaining her connection to the Elemental King pressing heavily on her. But she couldn’t lessen the pressure now that she was finally going somewhere.

  The airships, mighty as they were, were not invincible. Their wards were failing, their firepower diminishing. The Griffins were nearly routed, and their Knights were forced into defensive maneuvers as her constructs took more and more with them as they fell.

  Just a little more. I need just a little more.

  Unfortunately, just as the shadows did not hesitate to aid her when she requested it, they also didn’t care about her pleas. With a shudder, Amelia felt her connection to the elemental plane diminish rapidly, and once again, she was limited to her personal ability.

  Hovering in the sky, her shadows flickering around her like embers in a dying fire, Amelia painted the picture of a sorceress queen of old being finally brought low. The army of shadow constructs that had surged through the air was rapidly lessening without the unending mana, their forms unraveling under the relentless assault of the Griffin Knights. Despite heavy losses, the Knights had regrouped with renewed ferocity, darting through the chaos with little regard for their safety now that they sniffed weakness.

  Amelia directed a tendril of darkness to intercept a charging Knight. The Griffin screeched as it wrapped around its wings, forcing it into a wild spiral, but its rider fired off a quick spell, severing the tendril and steadying the mount. The two soared away, alive, yet their movement forced the rest to expend more mana.

  Below, the Revolutionary Army scrambled to adjust its defenses. The airships had shifted their focus, unleashing devastating cannon fire and magical artillery salvos upon them in a petty display. The captains understood they couldn’t extract a full victory from her and decided to aim for at least a pyrrhic one. The sky lit up with explosions, and the ground trembled as the shots rained down. Each blast shattered precious layers of protection, scattering soldiers and war machines alike.

  Amelia stretched her arms wide, pulling on her reserves to weave a massive barrier of shadow. The dark shield groaned as it caught the brunt of an incoming barrage, rippling under the impact but holding firm. Sweat beaded her brow as she maintained the defense, and her arms trembled.

  If the airships weren’t stopped soon, the Revolutionary Army would be decimated.

  The battle wore on, each passing moment sapping Amelia’s strength. She sent her remaining shadows to buy time, personally guiding them to intercept Griffin Knights and disrupt the airships’ bombardments. And yet, with her so busy to defend the army, the Knights were free to chase and kill her constructs once more.

  One by one, her shadows fell.

  The last construct crumbled under the strike of a gleaming lance, its dark form dissipating into the ether. Amelia found herself alone, standing against the combined might of Hassel’s air force.

  A new volley of cannon fire from the lead airship threatened to rip through the Revolutionary lines below, forcing Amelia to act. She expelled her remaining strength, deflecting the barrage just enough to save the bulk of the army. The effort staggered her, her vision swimming as exhaustion clawed at her mind.

  A second barrage began to form, the airships repositioning to maximize their firepower. The Griffins circled her like vultures, ready to pounce. Amelia’s fingers twitched as she prepared to summon whatever power she had left for one final stand. Asking for more mana through her contract likely meant a price she wasn’t ready to pay yet, but letting the enemy annihilate the army when they were so close to victory was out of the question.

  And then, from the south, salvation arrived.

  The first explosion was deafening, a crack of magical fire that shattered the air. Amelia’s head snapped toward the source, and her heart soared at the sight.

  A barrage of magical artillery streaked through the sky and slammed into the Griffin Knights, scattering them like leaves in a storm. Several mounts plummeted to the ground, their riders rendered into red mist. The airships, caught off guard, were forced to climb higher, breaking apart their formation to avoid colliding.

  Through the chaos, a single vessel emerged from the horizon.

  Painted in the bold gold and crimson of the Revolution, the airship was slightly larger than Hassel’s King Vasily-Class ships. Its hull gleamed in the sunlight, bristling with cannons and enchanted weaponry. The prow was adorned with the Revolutionary Army’s golden sword crest.

  The vessel unleashed another volley, aimed entirely at the nearest airship. The shots struck true, hammering the weakened wards with explosive force. Hassel’s ship wavered, its crew scrambling to stabilize it as the Revolutionary airship pressed its advantage.

  Amelia exhaled a shaky breath, relief flooding through her as she felt the tide of battle shift. The Revolution’s efforts to salvage Treon’s airship required more time and resources than many would have liked, but the results couldn’t be argued with.

  The Griffin Knights, evidently outmatched, began to retreat, their ranks thinning as they fled the battlefield. The Hasselian airships, finding themselves outmaneuvered, shifted their focus to defending themselves rather than bombarding the army below.

  Amelia’s lips curled into a faint smile. “About time,” she murmured.

  The Revolutionary airship soared into the fray, its cannons roaring as it targeted the enemy vessels. Each shot was precise and coordinated to exploit the weaknesses in the enemy wards she had worked hard to create. The sky filled with fire and smoke, but the loyalist forces were on the back foot for the first time in hours.

  Amelia drew herself up, her strength slowly returning as she absorbed the ambient shadows around her. She wasn’t done yet. With a flick of her wrist, she summoned a pair of spears and sent them hurtling toward one of the retreating Griffins. She struck true, clipping the mount’s wing and sending it spiraling out of control.

  Turning her attention to the remaining airships, she narrowed her eyes. While the Revolutionary vessel had turned the tide, the battle wasn’t over. Hassel’s forces were still formidable, and the Revolutionary Army needed to press the advantage before they could regroup.

  The remains of her summons coalesced around her until the very light seemed to retreat. From the dark, a massive spear of darkness began to take shape, rotating rapidly.

  With a final push of will, she hurled the spear toward the nearest airship. It struck the vessel’s ward with a resounding crack, the barrier finally fracturing under the impact. The Revolutionary airship seized the opportunity, unleashing a devastating broadside barrage that tore through the weakened ward and struck the hull.

  The King-Vasily shuddered, and its crew screamed as it quickly lost altitude.

  The battle wasn’t over, but she could taste victory.