161 Chapter 8.16 - Stay not the Vengeful Hand

Tearing across the night sky were several ships. The Marlin class deployment vessel was built for one purpose. If the Party Crashers were specialized in getting to a location first, the Marlin Pilots got their forces there second.

They were, in fact, the fastest thing in the sky, save falling comets or artillery. They were faster than dragons and their kin, faster than gryffons, harpies, and even unladen swallows in mid dive.

The downside of this is that they are not built for low altitude, and are restricted on weight.

They also took up a tremendous amount of energy, roughly a dozen large magic crystals consumed to get them this far, as such they usually were towed behind other ships when not actively in flight.

Within one of these ships, high above the land, there were 17 citizens of Haven, currently donning armor and double checking their supplies.

Most armors were a vast array of differing armors denoting belonging to a special Protectorate team. A few were the greaycoat colors of the general protectorate populace. Normally the Unit or Team one belonged to was emblazoned upon the left breast of the uniform or armor. However for these folks, their identifiers were put on the right breast.

Raid Team 1

This was what denoted that they may normally be assigned to one unit or another, but they were also a part of this multi domained group. And at their lead, securing his secondary weapons and plate rigs, stood Serin in his subdued golden armor. Next to him was Dana, who was still trying to convince him not to jump.

"You really don't have to do this. We have troops prepared." Dana was trying one last time to get Serin to change his mind.

"I am dropping with the others." was Serin's robotic reply.

"You have a duty to lead your people." Dana appealed to his sense of duty.

"I am dropping with the others."

"What happens if you get killed?"

Serin's tired eyes met Dana's. "Then this nightmare ends. Feel free to call in the Donnerschlag. You alone know the requirements to take up my crown, and until they appear the council would take charge. But that is for tomorrow. For now, I drop with the others."

"At least take a larger contingent."

Serin looked at those who surrounded him. When the call came to take fast attack ships to secure the first Temple Site of the Cult, he wanted those that he could trust. He wanted those he had worked with before. And he was limited on how many could come. They would be fighting an overwhelming enemy from within enemy territory.

The answer was a simple one. Serin had called together the 17 available members of His dungeon raid team, 18 people including himself. Jericho was busy on sweep and clear missions against the Cult members fleeing the Northern Kingdom's territories. And the last member, well, no one could fill the hole left by her absent smile.

Even thinking of her caused a bit of Serin's wrath to leak out. Everyone stopped what they were doing and looked at him for a second. Then as he receded his power, they went back to what they were doing, although most were prepared and ready to jump.

Serin looked over his dungeon raid team. His armor, personally enchanted by himself, was light as the serpent skinsuit it was plated over, not restricting movement in the slightest. His mask was that of a unknown humanoid locked in a scream. Due to the overwhelming nature of the enemies coming into the city and the terrain they would be fighting in, Serin had swapped his long range auto bolter for his shorter range one, with the affixed axehead on the end for melee. He may not be able to hit targets well outside of 300 yards, but as he had brought his shield, he did not plan on it. Although the shield did technically function as a shield, it was one of Shurik's design, filled with more functionality than a bard's grab bag of magic and tools.

Although these were his primary weapons, his [inventory] was filled to the brim with weapons, armor sets, explosives, supplies, and magical devices to sort out any situation.

Serin had publicly shown his uniform to be the black of a ruler in mourning. However, his Subjugator armor was a subdued golden color. When he wore it, there was but a singular purpose. 'My enemies shall prostrate themselves under my heel, and accept their end.' Serin thought.

"It's not too late, Serin. You don't have to do this. There is an entire nation willing to fight in your stead."

"That is exactly why I am doing it, Dana. We all know what was in the red binder, and we all know what is at stake. There will be scars on many when we are done, and I want it to be worth it."

Serin affixed his helmet and his eyes glowed with a faint aura.

To Serin's perspective, it was as if he saw the world around him as it was, with the addition of a slight glow around magical or living things.

The ship they were in, A Marlin class, was specially designed to go ahead of the main fleet and secure a landing area for larger supply and troop drops.

Of course the raid team was just one of the Marlins heading in. The other groups had other teams with other objectives. There were four ships heading to secure the four gates of the city, another would land at the barracks, and finally another would land to open large [gate]s outside the city to meet the forces of the Cult that were still pouring from their blood [gate].

"Our objective is the Temple. Status of the ground team is unknown. This team was selected for two reasons. First, I trust all of you to do your jobs. This is an enemy stronghold, and everyone you see is an enemy. Second, Humans have been recorded being affected by the influence of the Enemy."

"But Subjugator, aren't you worried you will be affected?"

It was Ferrah, hefting her belt fed scattergun like a sack of oranges.

Serin smiled under his mask. He remembered one of the messages he had received when he was anointed as the first Saint of the Keepers of the Gates.

[Saints are unaffected by the influence of foreign Divines.]

"I'll be fine."

Serin then saw the red crystal at the launch bay of the ship had lit up, which was the pilot's indicator they were over the target.

Serin opened the latches on the back of the Marlin, and down below he could see a small swarm of bone flyers. The other marlins had already started their deployments, but the flyers were focused around the temple.

"It's going to be a bumpy landing." Serin said.

Then without much ceremony, he jumped, followed by 17 of the strongest members of Haven, plummeting into the nightmare of the battlefield below.

17 stars fell from the heavens, piercing through the swarm of bone flyers, following the smoke trail of the firefight that was still going on at the Temple to Mephystra.