Falling Back

The decks underneath Prince Najja's feet shook wildly. He held on to the armrest of the command throne in panic as crew members were thrown off their feet from the sudden violent movement. Sky General Bundberg recovered himself quickly and he started yelling commands, "Order all ships to keep their ranks and overlap their magic barriers with ours! Now!"

The remaining ships of the 19th Iron Fleet tightened their ranks, their checkered cube formation shrinking smaller and smaller as magical shields were overloaded and overwhelmed. Ships of the same squadrons attempted to rotate out of the firing line once their magical barriers were depleted had some successes, but less than half barely managed to retreat with heavy damages while the unlucky ones suffered crippling damages and fell out of the skies, forcing ships to evade the falling hulls and further shifting the formation out of control.

The Iron Kingdom forces had been hammered back after half a day of constant fighting without any chance of rest and resupply. The Protectorate constantly threw fleet after fleet against the dwindling Iron Kingdom fleet without a care of their casualties. The troops of the Protectorate staunchly sang hymns as they went to their deaths, having absolute faith in their God.

Tired and with their ships magazines running critically low, the rate of fire of the fleet dropped as Sky General Bundberg had to command the ship captains to conserve their munitions for accurate fire. This allowed the Protectorate to push the defending fleet back several kilometres and no longer the skies above Hasta Castle were under Iron Kingdom control.

Protectorate airships behind the fighting line quickly turned their attention to the defences of the castle. The castle defenders retaliated back, sending super heavy projectiles several times more powerful than what an airship could carry, that popped through magical barriers like bubbles and smashing unprotected hulls like paper.

But unlike a mobile air fleet, steam cannons and walls on the ground could not move nor evade attacks. Bubbles of magical barrier fueled by all the remaining reserves of Iron Lord Hasta's magic crystal cache, popped when they no longer were able to handle the increasing amount of projectiles that drained away magic power like water.

Magical runes and formations that were etched and updated over the generations upon the walls that had stood for centuries exploded and burned out as they overloaded from the intense demands of the battle.

The super heavy steam cannons built inside dome shaped towers that looked like Terran observatories sheltered underneath the barriers required dozens of people to operate. Cranes had to lift the massive iron spear projectiles that were several meters long and as thick as a fully matured tree. Once the bolt was in the barrel, the loaders had to screw the bolt tightly in to prevent any leaks. Several tanks of compressed steam had to be filled at the same time and once the pressure was up to the right levels, several more gunners had to manually rotate the huge flywheels to turn and aim the super heavy steam cannon.

Each firing and reloading took almost a quarter of the sandglass, which ensured that each of the four super heavy steam cannons had only gotten the chance to fire twice before they were buried under a mountain load of projectiles. Only one super heavy steam cannon had the chance to fire the third time and scoring a hit on the enemy before it was wiped out from the face of the earth.

The steam cannons on the castle walls and towers fared a little better as they did not attract as much attention as the super heavy steam cannons. But still, the walls were turned to rumble quickly once the priority targets were taken out.

-----

Iron Lord Hasta leaned out of the shaking carriage drawn by four land dragons and cursed the Protectorate as he escaped out of his castle with a retinue of knights that escorted his family and what remains of his fortune. House Hasta which had ruled over these lands for several generations had just fallen in barely a day in his time and he had to run away with his tail between his legs.

He even abandoned his troops and people, the shameful act would have his title as an Iron Lord stripped off. But he did not care, as his life was more important than those peasants. Hence beforehand, he had already gathered what fortune could be carried away and planned out an escape if the defences failed.

He glanced at the aerial battle and cursed again, but this time at the two Princes that were retreating in their airship. He could see the edges of the fleet surrounding the Princes' flagship crumbling under the combined fire of the Protectorate fleet hounding them close at their heels.

A hull spewing thick dirty smoke and steam grew larger and larger overhead and the Iron Lord cursed again as he directed his party to evade the crashing airship. The ground shook wildly as the disabled airship crashed on the ground and anything that was flammable and explosive went up at once.

The Iron Lord's family cried out in fear as they huddled inside the carriages when the incredible noise and shockwaves washed over them. Iron Hasta coughed as he cleared his lungs of the smoke that swept across the air. He urged his footmen to drive the mounts harder and out of the way of more falling debris.

After the fell of an airship in the vicinity, visibility on the ground lessened as smoke and dirt swept across the land. It turned dark and gloomy for those caught inside the smoke cloud and the air was hard to breathe. Iron Lord Hasta's party quickly tied pieces of cloth over their noses and mouths as they tried to navigate out of the smoke cloud.

Unfortunately, as they raced across the roads, the smoke covered the land around them suddenly turned dark and Iron Lord Hasta looked up to the smoke and dust covered skies, only to see a huge silhouette that grew larger and larger blocking out what remaining light in the skies.

He had time for one last round of curses before a second massive boom rumbled across the earth and another massive smoke and dirt cloud was raised up into the air.

-----

"The Iron Monger is showing engine failure!" A signaler cried out, his voice cracking slightly under the stress and fear. "Iron Shield is signalling that they are abandoning ship!"

Sky General Bundberg stared out of the viewports at the messy skies filled with oily black smoke and bluish white clouds of escaped aetherium gasses. The 19th Iron Fleet was retreating in an as orderly manner as possible, the entire fleet still facing their forward prows to the enemy while all airscrews were spinning in full reserve.

The Iron Regent shook slightly as the entire forward prow of the battlewagon disappeared in a cloud of rapidly condensing steam. Eight massive projectiles spat out and disappeared into the enemy fleet, inciting flickers and shimmers of magical barriers being impacted. Other ships of the 19th fired as well, their current retreating formation only allowed their forward facing steam cannons to be able to bear on the enemy, which reduced the entire firepower of the fleet by 80%.

"Tell the fleet to tighten the formation! The heavy cruisers and ships of the line are to protect the smaller ships of the fleet!" Sky General Bundberg ordered. The 19th Iron Fleet was no longer capable of holding a battle line against the overwhelming numbers of the Protectorate. The 19th had already bought a day's worth of time for the Kingdom, and it could no longer present battle to the enemy.

The Protectorate was chasing them and likewise, was unable to present a battle line. If they stopped to turn their ships to present their broadsides, the distance between the fleeing 19th Iron Fleet and the Protectorate forces would open even more.

What Sky General Bundberg now could do, was to put as much distance as possible between the two fleets if he wants to save his remaining ships. And to do that, they need to hold out for another turn of the sandglass as the sun was dipping down over the horizon. Once it was dark, it would be a lot easier for the 19th to break away from contact with the Protectorate.

The Protectorate commander must have guessed his plans as the ships of the Protectorate continued to hound them, pushing hard with their superior numbers. In a fair fight with equal numbers, the Iron Kingdom's airships were more than capable of triumphing over the Protectorate' ships of the same classes. But now, outnumbered by several times, the already badly depleted 19th could only run or face total destruction.

"Reinforcements will be waiting for us after Hasta?" Crown Prince Najja asked nervously. His eyes were bloodshot and his once pristine and overly decorated uniform was now half unbuttoned and sweat stained. He looked at the Sky General even his royal brother for some form of assurance. "At Mortling's Hold? Unc- Lord Sincia has promised that he would send forces there!"

"Half of the ships won't make it to the border of Hasta," Prince Herod ignored his brother and addressed the Sky General. "The ships don't have the steam to make the distance."

At another time, the travel time from Hasta Castle to Mortling Hold would take about half a day of air travel at the slowest speed. Now, with the conditions of the fleet, at least a third of the remaining ships would fall out, too damaged to continue flying. And in the same time, Protectorate forces would continue to chase them.

"We have no choice," Sky General Bundberg replied. "Those that fall back have to find their own chances."

"Can we not send word for a supply fleet to meet us halfway?" Prince Najja asked timidly from the side.

"It would not be wise, Your Highness," Sky General Bundberg replied. "If we got caught in the middle of a resupply, the entire fleet could be wiped out."

"I see..." Prince Najja swallowed nervously. "What about the Iron Regent? Do we have enough supplies to make the journey?"

"It has," Sky General Bundberg said while he nodded towards the viewports. "The sun is coming down, we will soon have room to breathe."

"Thankfully, the Protectorate did not throw their full force against us..." Sky General Bundberg added. "Strange..."

"There will be bound to be a lot of accidents in the dark especially with the tight formation the fleet is in," Prince Herod said. "Should the fleet disperse now since there is still some light left?"

Sky General Bundberg shook his head, "The Protectorate are still on our heels, scattering the fleet now would allow them to hunt us down one by one."

He checked the sun's position again and gave a command, "Once the sun sets, all ships are to remain dark! When the signal flare is launched, the right flank is to turn to starboard!"

"The left flank is to turn to port!" Sky General Bundberg ordered. "The centre will stop all engines and turn 180 degrees!"

To prevent midair collisions and confusion, Sky General Bundberg has to specifically assign orders to the entire fleet. "All ships are then to head towards Mortling's Hold and rally there!"

As the sun disappeared across the horizons, the purple red skies transited into pitch darkness, only punctuated by tiny pin pricks of stars. Prince Najja finally let out a sigh of relief when darkness enfolded the ship and the constant crack hiss of steam cannons disappeared. "We are finally safe! We escaped from the Protectorate!"

"HAHA!" Prince Herod shook his head as he let out a laugh at the naivety of his brother. Under the dim light of the shrouded lamps, the smile on his face made his features looked demonic, making Prince Najja swallow nervously at the sight. "They know our heading... So there is no point for them to chase us so hard..."

"Enjoy while you can, Brother... For tomorrow will be another day in hell!"