The Storm King
Chapter 1203: General of the Palace

Arks burned above the planes in numbers almost beyond counting—so many that Anzu wondered if the people below saw more of their countrymen dying than they did stars. He watched in awe from the bridge of his stealth frigate as, despite the losses, the arks continued to tear each other to fiery ribbons.

The biggest concentration of destruction lay above the three-plane Empire’s capital city, though Anzu hadn’t arrived in time to witness what created that debris field. The fighting had already moved to the universal south, nearly crossing into the Voidspace of the next plane over. There, a line of some three hundred arks of varying sizes had formed a veritable wall of steel, preventing the attackers from pressing on. This wall seemed to shimmer as the arks that made it up kept moving in the formation, resembling a school of fish as they resisted this attack with all their might.

The attackers, however, had more arks, and they were willing to expend them, as the countless burning wrecks littering the cluster’s Voidspace attested.

“What are they doing…?” one of Clear Day’s diplomats wondered aloud.

The tau himself, standing next to Anzu’s chair, replied, “It looks like they’re chasing an ark. Do you see that one, Anzu?”

“I do,” Anzu replied with grim seriousness. He’d detected some signs of long-term instability in this Empire when he’d visited the first time, but to see them descend into this kind of civil war in less than a year was so far outside of his expectations that it took him completely off-guard.

The ark in question that Clear had pointed out was a ragged thing, clearly of civilian make if its lack of armor and weapons was any indication. It was large, cumbersome, and slow, unable to maneuver as well as its pilot clearly wished, and given the number of holes punched through its hull, its pilot certainly had reason to try. Fire streamed from many of those holes, but it had made it past the southern ark wall. How much that might help, Anzu couldn’t yet say.

Fire blossomed in the dark as one of the largest local arks in the southern wall—falling somewhere between one of his brother’s light and heavy cruisers going by size and armament—detonated in the middle of pulling an evasive maneuver. Its escorts scattered as tight beams of light flashed in their wake—it seemed the local Lances were based on light magic instead of using lightning to propel metal bolts.

“I can’t say it’s unwelcome,” Anzu said. “I had no idea they had this many arks, but the fewer they have, the easier this will be.”

“Maybe,” Clear whispered. “Though I would caution against such thinking, Anzu. It—”

“Yeah, you can stop right there, my feathered friend. These fuckwits tried to kill me and destroy my fleet. I’m not upset that they’re killing each other and I won’t pretend to be.”

“You were transparently scouting them out for conquest,” Clear stated.

Anzu simply grunted as another of the largest arks vanished amidst a ball of bright flame. A gap was made, allowing northern arks to pour through and relentlessly pursue their quarry. So single-minded were they that they didn’t even decelerate as the southern arks peeled out from the loose wall formation and hit them in the flanks.

More arks burned as gleaming bands of light tore through their hulls and scattered everything within throughout the black. But as those arks separated from the wall, the formation weakened and bent inward, allowing more arks to flood in and widen the opening.

“These defenders aren’t going to win,” Anzu observed. “They have neither the numbers nor the strength.”

“That leaves the transport,” Clear commented. “Who do you suppose is aboard?”

“Either someone very important to the Empire or someone very important to the Emperor. Arks are too strategic to waste on something mundane, and what could possibly explain all of this expenditure in meat and metal other than an existential threat to the Empire or its ruler?”

“I wish to find out,” Clear whispered, drawing a look of concern from Anzu.

“You were allowed with me on this scouting mission to see if you could do your thing with these people again. Seeing all this… I don’t think they’re going to be as receptive to your words as others have been.”

“That doesn’t mean I shouldn’t try,” Clear replied. “Anything to reduce the death to come is worth doing, wouldn’t you agree?”

Anzu clicked his tongue. “If you twist my arm, sure. But look, I’m a feather’s width from returning to Artorion; my brother has to hear of this, as do his commanders. If there’s a civil war going on here, then that can be exploited.”

“Then leave me here,” Clear suggested.

For a moment, Anzu looked like he wanted to argue, but as red eyes met red eyes, it was the albino who backed down. “Fine. If that’s what you want to do, I can’t stop you. Make your way down to an airlock, we should be able to open it up and let you out without disrupting our cloak.”

“Thank you,” Clear responded. “I’ll take a closer look at all of this and be ready soon.”

“The fleet returns to Demetrion in three days,” Anzu reminded him. “They’ll likely be jumping here a week after that. That’s how long you have to do… whatever you want to do. What do you want to do, by the by?”

“I’d tell you if I knew. I won’t know until I know exactly what’s going on.”

Anzu sighed. “So be it. We’ll see you in ten-ish days, then.”

Clear nodded, and after exchanging a few words with his small staff, he departed the bridge. Given the size of the frigate, he didn’t have far to go to reach the airlock, and once Anzu received confirmation that he had left the ark—the invisibility protecting the frigate remaining active, thankfully—he gave the order to return to the Nexus. The scouting mission was over, and they had learned something of immense importance to his brother’s current plans…

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Alarms blared, hammering Zhang’s ear drums incessantly. Consoles were dyed in red lights while runes flashed, demanding attention from the overtaxed crew. They rushed about trying to do what they could, but they were few, and the damage they’d taken was catastrophic.

Unfortunately, it was but a transport ark, a civilian model that was used to ferry troops and goods between Jiaxing and Xixing, and wasn’t that tough. It was all he could find, however, and it had seemed for a moment that it would help him and Yun escape to Xixing, where the stationed garrisons might be more receptive to their cause. The fleets above Jiaxing tried to stop their unscheduled transit, however, and under threat of being boarded and taken into custody or shot out of the sky, Yun chose to reveal himself and order the fleets out of the way.

Comm stones were fickle things, especially in the Void, but many of the higher officers of the Void fleets knew Yun by sight, and they certainly knew him, as Yun’s shadow. Failing that, the conspicuous dragon embossed on his shining white breastplate lent credibility to Yun’s claims.

In the end, as word spread amongst the fleets, many rallied to Yun’s aid, but just as many rallied against him. Many of the fleets broke up into smaller task forces or even just individual arks as their captains and admirals independently chose to follow their Emperor or the men sent from the Imperial City. Chaos reigned as everyone tried to figure out who was on who’s side. Thousands died and hundreds of arks burned.

The two sides were now more coherent, but it was clear that Yun’s side was weaker—not that it would matter if the ark exploded or disintegrated above Xixing. Zhang projected his magic outside of the ark as stalwartly as he could, forming a tight protective barrier around the ark.

The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

Their pursuers breaking through their allies’ lines was heartbreaking, but it was the White Arrows they fired after the transport that was more immediately painful; Zhang gritted his teeth in determination, adamant that the ark would not fall apart until they reached Xixing so long as he drew breath. But he faced ark-sized weapons, and though their allied arks were doing their best, they simply couldn’t back the nearly suicidal charge of arks more loyal to Wang Jujun and the regents than their own Emperor.

Said Emperor was ashen-faced as he stared at the readouts and light projections showing their position and that of their enemy, whose arks were gaining on them quickly. The young man didn’t know what to do and no words escaped his open mouth.

“Bring us down!” Zhang commanded the pilots, his voice straining as another White Arrow slammed into the back of his barrier. “I don’t care where!”

They were still thousands of miles away from the headquarters of Xixing’s protectorate army, but once they got back onto solid ground, Zhang could move Yun more easily. Assuming, of course, that their pursuing arks waved off at some point, which Zhang was less optimistic about.

He shouted with exertion as another concentrated beam pierced his barrier and raked the transport’s overtaxed external thrusters, which promptly died. A moment later, the ark trembled like a god had taken them into hand and shaken them thoroughly. The horrific screech of tearing metal reached the bridge and all power to it cut out, leaving them flying blind—if they were even still flying at all.

Hardly a moment passed, however, before Zhang’s organs suddenly shot upward and his and Yun’s feet left the floor—they were falling, and quickly. The crew was loyal enough, needing little coercion on his part to aid their Emperor in this time of need, so it was with a heavy heart that Zhang grabbed his charge, held him close, and projected a thick protective barrier around them. The transport was burning scrap at this point, and as much as it pained him to abandon good men and women, his first priority was his Emperor.

Through the clouds of Xixing they plummeted, falling amidst the mountains that ringed the plane. Snowy peaks gave way to thick forests around the slopes. Lakes and rivers carved deep furrows into the earth, and it was into one of these deep valleys that the transport plunged.

The nose of the ark bit into the side of a mountain, and everyone and everything that wasn’t strapped down in the ark went flying through the air. People were smashed against bulkheads, their impacts coming with discomforting snaps, cracks, and shouts. Blood flowed as the ark plowed through the earth and stone, slowing but not stopping as it crashed through the trees along the side of the mountain.

After several seconds, as bits of metal and fire peppered Zhang’s barrier, the large transport began to tumble, spinning and twisting apart as it rolled deeper into the valley, leaving utter devastation in its wake.

When it finally came to a screaming, fiery halt, Zhang and Yun were all that remained on the bridge—everyone else had been crushed against the bulkheads. Zhang did his best to not look at the broken and bloody remains and checked his charge, thankfully finding no immediately-concerning injuries. Yun, however, had slipped into unconsciousness, likely from the spinning and being thrown around, leaving Zhang the only one able to act.

He felt the air heat up as fires spread. Zhang sprang to his feet with Yun over his shoulder. He drew Mountain Cleaver into his other hand and began carving through the ark’s floor, which had become the ceiling after the ark came to a halt. For the only time that day, Zhang was grateful that they had taken a civilian-grade ark instead of a military-grade one as that made his job easier—the plates and hull parted before him like water before a ship, his light cutting the passage that would save their lives.

Once he tasted fresh air, however, Zhang realized that he’d merely delayed the inevitable. Fire burned all around him as he hovered above the ark, burning both within the crashed vessel and throughout the valley. The ark had broken apart as it crashed, scattered burning wreckage everywhere, and the fires were spreading quickly. Making matters worse, a dozen arks were now circling them, and given their sigils and the flashes of light high in the night sky indicating further battle, he didn’t think these were friendly arks.

Zhang floated a little further up the slope and found a flat boulder upon which he laid his unconscious Emperor. He laid several of his most powerful protective spells around Yun and then layered a dome of his power above that. Then he turned up to face the threat.

The arks above them opened and disgorged thousands of crack soldiers—Void Wolves, the finest marines in the Imperial military. Leading them was Wang An, kin to Wang Jujun and who the eunuch had selected to replace Fang Bao as commander of the Void Wolves. He was perhaps the strongest man in the eunuch’s Clan, his body radiating the mighty aura of a ninth-tier mage who’d long grown used to his power.

“Protector Zhang!” Wang An called out as he descended, his Void Wolves forming a protective formation around him just in case Zhang attacked. “I admire your tenacity! But your rebellion ends here! Surrender here, give up your doomed treason, and allow us to return the Emperor to his rightful place!”

Zhang scowled. Bile rose in his throat at the mere prospect of surrender at this point. No, he would not comply with these usurpers and traitors, no matter what crimes they heaped upon him.

He planted the butt of his spear into the ground, and the entire mountain shook. His tenth-tier aura burst from his body, and the air shuddered. He glared at his opponents, the lot that looked more and more nervous even as more and more of them poured from their circling arks. They had the assembled power to kill him…

‘Let’s see them try…’

Aloud, he roared with the voice of the dragons that the Imperial family had taken for their sigil.

“I AM ZHANG ZILONG, GENERAL OF THE PALACE, SLAYER OF A MILLION MEN, AND BANE OF WOULD-BE USURPERS! FOR TWO CENTURIES HAVE I SERVED THE EMPIRE AND HER EMPERORS IN THE PALACE, AND CENTURIES MORE IN THE EMPIRE’S MOUNTAINS, FORESTS, AND PLAINS! NO MAN WILL BESMIRCH MY HONOR AND SURVIVE! AND WHILE I LIVE, NOT A SINGLE HAIR UPON MY LORD’S HEAD SHALL BE HARMED! IF YOU WANT TO CONTINUE YOUR TREASON AND CAPTURE MY LORD, THEN YOU SHALL HAVE TO GO THROUGH ME!”

He slammed the butt of Mountain Cleaver again into the ground beneath his feet, and the already battered mountain groaned. Light shone from the spear’s tip, its power undeniable. Zhang blazed with light like a second sun, and Wang An’s soldiers balked.

“You are a base traitor!” Wang An retorted shrilly, his voice not lending itself well to loudness. “You have kidnapped the Emperor for your own base desires! And now you shall face your punishment at the hands of the Emperor’s loyal Wolves!”

Though he cut no intimidating figure by himself, his aura was radiant and the soldiers around him highly experienced. They roared as one, finding their courage in their numbers, and charged Zhang.

For the next few seconds, Zhang became the instrument of death itself. Light from his spear split flesh and sundered armor. Motes of light sprang from his body and lanced through the Void Wolves. Blood soaked into the slope as he stood his ground, no attacker’s blade reaching his body, no magic blemishing his armor.

Wang An, the coward he was, hung back despite his power. He harried Zhang with his magic, but he dared not approach. The arks around them assumed firing positions, but with Zhang so close to the Emperor, none of them dared attempt to take his life.

A score departed from the land of the living with every swing of his spear. In seconds, a hundred met their end, and in mere seconds more, another hundred. The air was filled with the sounds of screaming and the terrible hum of Zhang’s magic rending the air and earth around him. Throughout it all, his feet remained where they were, planted upon the side of the mountain as if rooted there, and behind him, the Emperor was undisturbed.

Wang An was forced to flee, and his remaining Void Wolves followed suit, even their renowned iron discipline breaking in the face of Zhang’s resistance.

The arks, however, remained where they were. The air crackled with magic power as weapons charged. Lights glimmered in the darkness as these weapons were turned upon Zhang.

He smirked and prepared himself. He’d pressured them to use their most destructive weapons against him, despite the risk to the Emperor.

‘They want their puppet back, but they want to kill me even more,’ he grimly thought, a smile crossing his face. He considered attacking these arks, but after the flight, crash, and fighting off Wang An’s troops, he was nearing his limits. Plus, he had to maintain the barrier around Yun; he’d have to abandon his Emperor to get close enough to the arks to do real damage.

He glanced at the young man, still unconscious within his barrier and protective spells. His Emperor would be defenseless without him. He couldn’t die here.

Summoning every last mote of power within his body, he erected the single strongest barrier he’d ever made in his life.

Weapons discharged. White Arrows slammed into his barrier. The barrier cracked; he shouted in exertion. He raised Mountain Cleaver, using the power of his weapon to add strength to his barrier. Cracks sealed for a moment, but the fusillade continued. White Arrows tore into the mountainside around him, and his barrier cracked again. Brilliant white light blazed through, cutting into his body, breaking his armor, spilling his blood. Through it all, he concentrated on one thing, a singular objective that cut through the pain—keep the barrier up.

Then Mountain Cleaver broke, snapping several inches up the haft from where he held it, and the blade broke into a dozen pieces. His barrier flickered and died, and Zhang roared into the sky even as he knew that death was now calling his name. He refused to answer, he would not fail his Emperor.

But he barely noticed as another barrier sprang into place around him, upon which White Arrows splashed uselessly. A bird appeared, floating on wings covered in the softest feathers. It shone as white as a star, but its eyes sparkled in the darkest shades of red.

[I’ll protect you now,] a voice spoke into Zhang’s mind, and a feeling of overwhelming fatigue washed over him. He fell to his knees, suddenly unable to do much more than lift his head. The shards of Mountain Cleaver lay before him, but it was the Emperor who occupied his final thought before he slipped into oblivion.

He wasn’t sure how he knew, but he knew that Yun was now safe, and he could rest, whether in the land of dreams or the arms of death. Whether he woke up or not, he supposed, would be up to this bird…