Lich for Hire

The Blacktide's combat performance had been essentially flawless. It absolutely dominated the flock of harpies, but not entirely without cost.

The artificial souls' cannon accuracy had been underwhelming at under thirty percent. That was an unacceptable rate of ammunition consumption. The solution was to switch to self-replicating bone rounds as the primary ammunition type.

The drone's jet engine also had maneuverability issues, which Ambrose chalked up to problematic manufacturing and sloppy tolerances in the components. That was Gustavo Flynn's problem to answer for. Those parts had been custom-ordered from him.

If the Alchemists' Guild couldn't control the quality of its own output, then it might as well find a new Chairman.

After dealing with the harpies, Ambrose took a moment to collect some souls and remains.

The Blacktide had a secondary chamber dedicated to dark energy generation alongside its magitech reactor, and corpses and souls could both contribute to the fuel supply.

With the fuel supply topped up, Ambrose set course for the Emerald Dreamwood again. The next stretch would pass through Lyon's territory.

This time, Ambrose caused an even greater commotion.

The Blacktide produced about as much noise as a sustained thunderstorm, and would be audible from dozens of kilometers in every direction.

Unsurprisingly, interception followed shortly after their entry into Lyon's airspace.

"Master," the ship's soul reported, "Lyon imperial airship formation detected ahead. Exact numbers unclear. Distance approximately one hundred and seventy kilometers."

"An airship formation." Ambrose found this mildly amusing. "How optimistic of them."

Every civilian airship on the market was Alkhemia-produced. Lyon had presumably acquired a fleet for ceremonial purposes, the kind of purchase that looked impressive on a parade. No one could have predicted they would one day need them for actual aerial combat.

"A fleet of ships maxing out at forty kilometers per hour, trying to intercept the Blacktide." He shook his head. "They're not thinking this through."

"Master, shall we destroy them entirely?"

"No. We need witnesses. Leave one or two behind."

"Understood, Master."

The Blacktide accelerated toward the Lyon formation.

Forty Lyon airships had arranged themselves in the air, attempting a formation resembling an encircling net to block the approaching vessel's path.

Whatever commander had ordered that formation clearly had no experience with aerial warfare. The sky was enormous. Encirclement simply didn't translate from ground combat to aerial combat.

In fairness, it wasn't really their fault. Lyon had never needed to develop aerial tactics in its entire history. If Ambrose hadn't flown over Lyon's territory the last time around, those ships would still be in storage.

The cannons they had retrofitted onto the hulls were certainly powerful, though the accuracy they had demonstrated was lacking.

Still, they had forty airships on their side to Ambrose's one. The advantage was theirs, surely?

And even if not... well, they could always jump overboard. Even high-altitude falls wouldn't be fatal with priests around.

At the very least, that was the private reasoning of Cade Watson, commanding officer of the airship formation.

It wasn't a very Lyon-like way of thinking. If word got around that he was planning his own escape route, he would be labeled a coward and what remained of his career would be terminated.

But Cade Watson found he didn't particularly care anymore. After his brother Allen's defection and his father James's resignation, Cade had been caught in the fallout.

He was the middle child of the Watson family, and hadn't made the same public, emphatic break from his family that his eldest sibling had. He had always been unremarkable, not especially principled or devoted, and content to live out a quiet, uneventful life. But with what had happened to his family, "quiet and uneventful" was no longer an option.

Originally the reasonably well-paid head of a local tribunal, he had since been reassigned to warehouse oversight and ceremonial duties. He had been given the title of airship commander, though everyone understood it for what it actually was: a controlled demotion. The airships were used as an honor guard, not in combat.

Then, the empire had gone to war and gotten badly beaten.

The dragons' aerial advantage made it painfully clear what Lyon was missing. Their legendary fighters couldn't fly. Fighting a dragon on the ground while it had complete freedom in the air was simply target practice for the dragon; flying up to fight one in the sky was equally suicidal.

Lyon needed an air force, but no one had any idea what that would look like in practice. They did have a fleet of airships, at least—why not start there?

So cannons had been installed across the fleet, but their effectiveness in actual combat remained to be seen.

"All units, open fire as soon as the target enters range."

The Lyon fleet focused on saturating the battlefield with attacks. With effectively zero maneuverability and middling accuracy, quantity was the only option available.

The Blacktide was approaching faster than Cade had anticipated, but he gave the order anyway. "Fire!"

The cannons discharged in a spread. Dozens of rounds shot out toward the Blacktide, but the majority of them would have missed even if the Blacktide were a sitting target.

Opening fire from an airship transferred the recoil directly to the hull, which meant the ship was already rocking before the smoke cleared. Getting the shots off at all was the best the Lyon fleet could accomplish. Whether they hit anything was a matter of luck.

The Blacktide simply gained altitude. Every round passed beneath it.

Then it returned fire. The difference in accuracy was immediate and significant.

A single volley struck half the Lyon fleet. Bone coral bloomed outward from the projectiles, encasing the hulls and puncturing the sacs of air that kept the airships aloft.

Lyon's fleet began to plummet.

Their crews had no choice but to abandon ship, leaping out into open air at altitude.

Cade Watson hadn't anticipated losing this quickly. He turned to his own crew. "Abandon ship. We can't win this."

He was preparing to do exactly that when a sword came at him.

He deflected it with the hammer he was carrying and eyed his assailant: one of the young paladins ostensibly serving as his bodyguard but was actually his watcher, insurance against the Watson tendency toward defection.

The youth was furious. He was barely past the age where he had learned to control his anger. "Traitor! Are you going to give up this quickly? Have you no shame before the god we serve?"

Cade shrugged. "The Lord of Dawn never told me to throw my life away. I'm not a paladin, and I'm not bound by oaths of that kind. And besides, a priest's power comes entirely from the god's generosity." The holy light flaring around Cade's body made his point for him.

"If the Lord of Dawn thought I was wrong, I would lose my abilities. The Holy Light speaks for itself."

It was an airtight argument. A priest's ability to channel divine magic was contingent on divine approval.

The young paladin was shaking with rage. "Don't you dare use the Lord of Dawn's name to justify your cowardice!"

He launched a Sacred Slash aimed directly at Cade. Then, an explosion went off between them and sent both men tumbling through the air.

Cade spun through the open sky.

He knew he needed to get his parachute pack open, but couldn't quite manage it. Then, a large mechanical figure appeared beside him, reached out, and caught him by the arm.

"Are you the commanding officer of this fleet? My master wishes to speak with you."

"Your master?" Cade stared at the strange machine holding him aloft. "Who exactly is your master?"

The machine replied without hesitation: "The great, the benevolent, the learned, the world-saving Master Megaman Tiga."