Marshal Gramon rallied 37,000 troops in half a day. Sora led the Griffin, Unicorn, and Chimera Magic Knights—total 300 strong—alongside Gramon to Tarubu Village, Albion's invasion point.
Albion's raid scaled small: single floating warship, ~2,000 soldiers aboard. Airship hovered 300 meters up, out of normal reach; dozens of cannons rained fire downward. Two hours breached Tarubu, crushed local lord's forces. Now crew banqueted, reveled onboard.
"Lord Kolomwe—your lead makes Albion unstoppable. Tolistine ours soon," a general toasted in the ship's hall.
Kolomwe preened, stroked mustache: "Nonsense—your command shines."
"Invading Tolistine post-civil war? Blitz caught 'em flat-footed. What if they counter?"
"That Tolistine? Barely 10,000 troops total. We muster 100,000 mainland. They won't fight—acquiesce. We claim mainland turf, port-build, ferry Albion forces steady."
"Then Tolistine—chopping block meat."
"Right, General."
"Cheers Albion."
"No—Restoration Alliance."
"Yes—Alliance cheers." "Cheers." "Cheers."
As Albion invaders caroused, black shadow loomed scout-top.
Scout perked, telescope-peered direction.
Hundreds cavalry, thousands infantry trail. Dozen-plus griffin riders sky-bound.
"Enemy—enemy incoming!" Scout blared ship alarm; shrill whistles pierced warship.
"Enemy here!" "Tolistine forces!" "Stations—now!"
"Tolistine dares?" Kolomwe shocked.
"Lord—commanding battle." General ditched goblet, banquet-hurried out.
Warship pivoted slow, faced Gramon's host, cannon-ports yawned.
Dozen-plus flying dragon knights launched, army-ward.
"Boom" "Boom"—fire dragons, ten-meters altitude, maw-spat flames crowd-scorched. Dozens to hundreds slain instant.
"Fire Dragon Knights—Griffins where?!" Gramon roared.
"On it—Griffin Team, air with me." Sora mounted assigned griffin; William, squadmates griffin-straddled. Runway sprint, sequential liftoff—dragon knights met.
Low-altitude flyer clash. Fire dragons spotted Griffins, wheeled face-on; maws flamed griffins.
"No wind blades—gust flames back!" Sora bellowed.
Head-on blaze; Sora's griffin dodged frantic.
"Delph—flame suck." Sora drew sword, thrust forward.
"Gotcha, partner." Blade glowed; nearing flame sword-tip-pulled, absorbed hilt-deep.
"Little guy—chase that red lizard." Sora spurred legs, sword-pointed his attacker.
"Squawk!!" Griffin powered, wings beat—fire dragon neared.
Fire Dragon Knight: stern middle-age. Griffin close, waist-saber drew.
"Delph—flame ram." Sora skipped swordplay; swung—absorbed flames close-spewed, dragon-knight engulfed. Back-blaze ball; dragon wailed, plummeted.
One down; Sora climbed altitude, scanned.
Griffin mages spell-cast; Fire Dragons flame-superior griffins. Back-forth even; some downed.
Sora eyed William fireball-counter dragon fireball, shoved flames foe-ward—foe felled. "William—charge my sword," Sora yelled.
William nodded, closed; dialed pyroblast weak-chant.
Sora Delphlink slurped full firepower; blade red-shone.
"William—flank. I strike."
William nodded, griffin-paralleled Sora.
"Go, little guy—Delph." Sora sword-aimed, target-picked, dashed.
"Squawk!!" "Power-packed."
Griffin speed outpaced dragons. Sora neared, sword-spewed meters-flames foe-swallowed. Foe strikes? William fireball-intercepted air-mid.
Fire Dragon Knights hemorrhaged.
"That Griffin squad—trouble. Cannon 'em."
"General—our dragons below too," gunner hesitated.
"Can't coddle—if drags, all dragons die. Fire!" General head-slapped gunner.
"Understood." Gunner wheeled cannon; surrounds followed.
"Boom" "Boom" "Boom"
Cannons ground-pounded; now dragon-griffin melee-zoned. Black shells streaked; ground-boomed loud. Dragons, griffins spooked.
Sporadic shell clipped flyer: blast-blackened knight-mount plummeted straight.
Sora special-targeted: five-plus shells inbound.
Sora-William fireball-popped shells air-mid; unscathed awhile.
"Can't linger—Griffins, left-flank battlefield, rear-return."
"William—split relay," Sora ordered deputy.
"Got it." Twin griffins diverged, herded squad round-battlefield, bomb-zone escaped.
Fire Dragons regrouped remnants, ceased fight.
Griffin landing roll-call: Sora aside, 11 to 8—three lost.
"You fought well—mission done," Sora warm. "Foes lost double-plus ours; ground shielded from dragons."
Survivors grieved comrades; words sparked pride-flicker.
Sora nodded William—handed off rest, Gramon-returned.
Ground advance crawled under barrage. Cannon-shift Griffins let archers, infantry hillside-claim.
~200 archers, explosive-tied arrows, distant warship-loosed.
"Bang-bang" "Boom-boom"—ship explosions riddled hull-holes. Vast frame? Slow dent.
"Fire square-rank here—perfect," Gramon distant-unlanding ship fumed. "Few [fire explosions] ash it."
"Marshal—earth square-rank. No aid spell?" Triangle-rank earth Rove asked. "No 20-meter golem hull-smash?"
"My magic no standard earth—human-sized puppets max," Gramon shook head. "Hot? Griffin William, my fire-wind dual works."
"No—cast range short. Two shots? Ineffective kill."
Sora entered: "Then—my finisher? Sword holds half-pyroblast; griffin-close ship, full-release."
"Half-fire explosion? Nah—insufficient. Hull magic-reinforced; under 10,000 damage? Minimal." Gramon nixed.
Silence fell.
Hull dents mounted slow; ship altitude dipped gradual.
Grounders shelled heavy; archers near-spent, cannons quieted. Ship descended, ropes dropped—soldiers slid, ground-charged.
Tolistine formation-broken, carved awhile.
"No more—Unicorns charge." Rove fisted, command-quit.
Soon: 17 man-tall unicorns three-teamed, Rove-led enemy-plunged.
Unicorn strength horse-far; armor-pierce easy. Knight spells, swordplay? Sharpest edge. Rove-led, 17 unicorns steel-knifed foe-lines; wild-ran, bowled enemies. Riders fireball, wind blade, earth spike, ground thorn—near-lives reaped.
Soon: unicorn smashed camp, wheeled return.
Mana-dry riders ditched wands, swords drew—hacked.
Round-trips: 17 unicorns ~300 kills, formation shattered.
Second pass: unicorns strength-flagged; 17 to 12 returned. Rest enemy-yanked mid-charge, surrounded slain.
Rove panted, subordinates rested—no approach.
Unicorn push let Tolistine grounders regroup; numbers-superior compressed, harvested Albion.
"No shot—sky," general cold-abandoned grounders, ascended ship.
Ground ~300-400 Albion cursed—killed or captured.
Ship climbed 200 meters, wheeled—departure-bound.
"Why—artillery holds, fight!" Kolomwe general-fumed.
"Yes—but ground insufficient occupy. Harass useless. Return home, resupply, re-invade—Lord Kolomwe," general calm.
Kolomwe cooled: "Fine—you general, battle yours."
"Glad, sir."
Ship turned.
Ground attacks rarely height-reached; stray arrows ineffective.
"Done—invaders repelled. But pissed," Gramon table-fisted, rage-faced.
"Foes ship-focused—watch escape. Damn."
Sora eyed behemoth, mused: Louise here—perfect. Her void power downs it sure.