The Peregrine Swift's defenders were in a huge problem. Because of this higher-tiered enemies. Spark was ready to burst into his greatest form to deal with them.
But then, an unassuming figure who had just been watching from the side stepped forward. He was a small, hunchbacked old man. Dressed in simple, comfortable robes. He seemed frail. Harmless.
He raised his hands. The air around him twisted. And then...
White feathers erupted from his skin. Wings burst from his back. His features sharpened into something avian but undeniably human.
He grew taller. The hunch disappeared. His posture became impossibly straight. In just a moment, he transformed. Into a magnificent, white-winged birdman. Crackling with energy.
Immediately, he moved. Charging with blinding speed. The Tier-3 Framepath Warrior roared and crossed his arms. Trying to block him.
The birdman simply shifted his course. Appearing behind the warrior in an instant. A single, impossibly sharp claw swipe severed the cultist's head.
The Soulcraft Sorcerer tried to fade into the shadows. But the birdman's eyes, sharp and golden, seemed to pierce the darkness.
With a sound like tearing silk, the cultist's shadow counterpart was ripped apart. The cultist himself collapsed. Twitching, as his body split into two parts.
The Tier-4 Technocraft Engineer raised his metal-covered arms. Preparing a powerful energy blast. But, in a flash, the birdman was already there. Behind him.
A flurry of strikes hammered the brute's poorly protected head. The were almost too fast to follow. The runes on his armor flared and died. The cultist fell. Dead. Head mangled to unrecognized form.
It was over in seconds. The remaining pirates, seeing their leaders fall so brutally, lost heart. And were quickly subdued or thrown from the ship.
Spark watched. A rare flicker of genuine surprise crossing his face. That level of power. The sheer mastery and transformation… It was impressive. He couldn't even see the level of the old man. He should be Tier-6 or even higher.
He quickly recognized the man. Or rather, the form. It was Earl Claude Goose. The recently retired Minister of Education. He was more well-known for his administrative skill. Not overt power. But in Anearth, appearances were often misleading.
As the ship's crew began rounding up the surviving pirates and tending to the wounded, Spark approached the Earl. Who was slowly shifting back into his elderly, hunched form. Looking slightly winded but otherwise fine.
Lilith and Ivy shadowed Spark. Their expressions were neutral but wary.
"Your Lordship! Earl Goose!" Spark greeted. Inclining his head slightly. A purely formal gesture. "Remarkable display. Saved us all, it seems."
The Earl offered a tired smile. "Just an old bird protecting his perch, young man. Lord Nighthawk, isn't it?" He looked at Spark and quickly recognized him. "Though I must admit, I didn't expect such... enthusiasm from these ruffians."
"They were more than ruffians, I believe." Spark remarked. Glancing at the complex winged sun tattoo on the corpse of the were-rhino Framepath Warrior. "That tattoo... They were cultists from the Holy Sun, wouldn't you say?"
The Earl's eyes narrowed. "Indeed. Desperate fanatics. They usually operate in the fringes, but attacking a royal passenger liner... most unusual. They must have been after something specific."
Spark nodded. Casting a subtle glance around the deck. Many passengers, shaken but alive, were being tended to by the ship's personnel.
A few nobles, pale and visibly trembling, were being helped up. Spark had noticed some of them earlier when boarding. Individuals who seemed overly nervous or guarded. Nobles traveling to the King's celebration early like him. Presumably bearing precious gifts.
"Something very valuable, I'd wager." Spark said. Falling into the role. "Attacking a ship heading directly for the capital... it suggests a high-stakes target."
Earl Goose gave a faint, humorless smile. "The King's centennial birthday draws many eyes and many treasures, Young Nighthawk. Where there is immense value, there are those desperate enough to seize it."
He paused. His gaze was lingering on Spark for a moment. A flicker of something Spark couldn't quite read. "It seems this celebration may not be the entirely peaceful affair the palace intends."
Spark smiled back. The easy-going façade was still firmly in place. Though his mind was already racing.
A cult willing to sacrifice an entire ship for a target on board. Suspicious nobles carrying valuable goods...
The capital was already a hotbed of political maneuvering and social stratification. Yet, it was now just became significantly more interesting.
Eagledome was already shaping up to be less a celebration. And more a gathering of vultures and their prey. Good. Peaceful trips were boring anyway.
He needed to secure his recruits. And prepare for the inevitable turmoil the capital promised. The King's birthday party was just the excuse. The real chaotic game seemed to be... about to begin.
Chaos bred opportunity. And Spark Nighthawk was always prepared to seize it.
...
The sky ship touched down smoothly. On one of the many platforms dotting the perimeter of Eagledome's harbor.
The capital of the Avianest Kingdom was a sprawling metropolis. A testament to the kingdom's wealth and engineering prowess.
Towers of polished stone and glass-like materials pierced the sky. Interspersed with lush hanging gardens. And the intricate maze-like roads.
Ocean and flying ships, from sleek personal metal sloops to massive cargo haulers, could be seen here. Arriving and departing in the harbor. This was the heart of power. And Spark Nighthawk felt its pulse.
Stepping off the ship, Spark cast a casual glance around. As usual, his towering body that was built like a war engine intimidated people nearby. His tanned face held its usual amiable expression though. But, his dark-grey eyes missed nothing.
Lilith looked sharp and efficient in her combat-ready secretary attire. She was already handling the disembarkation paperwork.
Ivy, small and focused, secured their minimal luggage. Most of their important items and equipment were safely stored in Spark's second gearcore. The Spatial Belt.
Both beautiful women moved with an air of practiced competence. One that was born of absolute, conditioned loyalty.
"Alright! Let's get the key." Spark instructed. His voice deceptively friendly. "RAS HQ first. Then we settle in."
...
The Royal Accommodation Service headquarters was a grand building. Not far from the harbor. It was all marble and officious air.
Inside, Spark presented his credentials. As a noble holding property within the capital, his villa was maintained by the RAS during his absence.
A curt clerk, barely looking up, retrieved a heavy brass key. And a small pouch of necessary tokens.
"Villa 7-B, Lord Nighthawk." The clerk stated flatly. "Standard service applied. Report any issues within two cycles."
"Will do." Spark replied. Taking the key. No pleasantries were exchanged. RAS wasn't in hospitality field. They weren't trained for manners and small talk.
Many nobles often complained about this. But, Spark liked it this way. They were competent and efficient. That was what mattered.
Spark and his two assistants secured ground transport. A comfortable four rhino-horse carriage. It brought them to their way across the city.
Villa 7-B was located in a quiet, upscale district. It wasn't ostentatious. But it was quite large. Well-appointed. And secluded behind high walls topped with rune-etched wards. The air here was cleaner. The ambient noise lower.
Unlocking the heavy front door, Spark stepped inside. The villa smelled faintly of polish and dormant magic. The furniture was high-quality. The décor was tasteful but generic. Everything was neat, clean, and impersonal. Exactly as the RAS promised.
"Good. Unpack essentials only." Spark instructed. "We're here for a week before the main events start. Consider this relaxation time. Lilith, confirm our itinerary. Ivy, check the villa's basic rune-wards and possible security breaches."
"Yes, Master." they chorused, their voices soft and compliant.
The rest of the day was Spark's own. He spent time reviewing some business reports on a data slate. And then, he did a quick, brutal workout in the villa's small private training room.
Afterward, he simply relaxed. He lounged in the sunlit courtyard. The weight of his future plans was momentarily set aside.
Lilith and Ivy saw to his comfort with quiet efficiency. Bringing refreshments. Handling communications. And simply being present.
Later, as the Eagledome sky began to paint itself in hues of orange and red, Spark retired to the main suite. The villa was large. Yet, Spark, Lilith, and Ivy were entirely alone there.
The atmosphere shifted within the suite. The air grew warm. Thick with unspoken desires. The blunt, professional dynamic melted away. Revealing the private reality of their relationship.
Lilith shed her sharp secretary persona like a cloak. Becoming a yielding, playful, and eager lover. Ivy, shedding her meticulous researcher's focus, became openly affectionate and pliant.
Under the cover of the luxurious villa, Spark indulged in the pleasures his absolute dominance afforded him. There were no pretenses. No carefully constructed facades. Just the raw, possessive satisfaction of having two beautiful, skilled women entirely devoted to his will and pleasure.
He took his time. Enjoying their complete submission. Their bodies were moving only for him. Their loyalty was absolute.
The night became a blur of intimate moments. A physical release that grounded him after the journey. And prepared him for the city's underlying tensions.
He needed this respite. This complete control over his immediate environment and companions. Before stepping out into the unpredictable currents of the capital.