176. Kim City’s First War Part 7: Balloons in the Sky
knights stationed along the shoreline sprang into action. They opened canvas sacks filled with quicklime, hurling them into the shallow sea with practiced precision again. As the chemical touched water, thick plumes of white-gray smoke erupted violently, choking fog rising once more to mask the battlefield. The sharp, acrid scent of the lime began to fill the air, mixing with the salt of the ocean and the burning oils from earlier bombardments.
The coastline began to vanish again beneath the ever-growing wall of fog. But the enemy was already on them.
Dozens, then hundreds, of Imperial knights were swarming the beach like ants, armor clanking, boots thundering against sand and stone as they pressed deeper onto the island.
Ravenna's heart thumped with tension, but her eyes were sharp. Her orders had been given. The fog was rising. The plan was active again. She took one final glance at the battlefield, then turned from the tower, the wind tugging at her sheer robe as she descended the stairs. Every step echoed with urgency.
It was time to put an end to this!
Hughes leapt into the nearest trench, his armor clinking as he landed hard on his boots. Around him, other knights scrambled into position, each man and woman falling into their assigned defense lines with practiced precision. The trench was narrow, hastily dug, but reinforced with sandbags, planks, and steel spikes buried into the earth. It wasn't perfect, but it would hold.
Rows of rapid-fire crossbows were propped against the trench walls, already loaded with steel-tipped bolts that shimmered with a deadly gleam under the clouded sky.
From the beach, the enemy surged forward.
Imperial knights and mercenary forces had begun to land in droves. The boats had reached the sandbanks and were emptying with terrifying speed. Shouts of discipline echoed as Imperial commanders barked orders, forming their troops into tight shield formations. Interlocked tower shields rose at the front lines while swords and spears bristled behind. The march was methodical, precise: a wall of metal and flesh moving inland.
But it was the mercenaries who moved fastest.
Lightly armored, driven by coin and bloodlust, they rushed recklessly toward the first defensive trench that the forces of Kim City had built along the coastline. They surged ahead, eager to break the defensive line before the more disciplined Imperial units could arrive.
Hughes's eyes narrowed as he peered through a narrow slit in the trench, the roar of war drums and boots on sandgrowing louder with every breath. The mercenaries, some in mismatched armor, others with tattooed faces and dual blades—charged forward like a rabid pack of wolves.
This book's true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience.
He steadied his breath, brought up his crossbow, and locked onto the leading runner.
"Steady!" he shouted. "Wait for my mark.. wait… NOW! OPEN FIRE!"
A dozen twangs cracked through the air like snapping cords as crossbow triggers were pulled.
Then came the sound of impact.
Dozens of steel-tipped bolts flew out in a deadly arc: fast, heavy, and precise. They punched through armor like paper, the sheer force behind them enough to pierce helmets, split shields, and bury deep into torsos. The front rank of mercenaries collapsed mid-sprint, some screaming, others crumpling without a sound.
The ones behind them faltered, but only for a moment.
"Reload! Fire again!" Hughes barked, grabbing another bolt set with practiced speed.
Another volley tore through the air, and another wave of mercenaries dropped. The trench line lit up with the deadly rhythm of Kim City's first defense, and Hughes, calm in the chaos, kept shouting over the din of battle, unwavering.
"Hold your ground! They are expendable, we are not! Make them bleed for every step they take!"
And so, the final push had begun.
At top the Coastal Wall, Kim City, Kim Island, Kim Dukedom, Ancorna Empire
Inside the highest watchtower overlooking the coast, Marie sat still, silent, focused, and surrounded by the distant thrum of war drums. The air outside was thick with fog and sounds, the sounds of combat echoing from below like distant thunder. Her eyes remained locked on the battlefield, following every movement, every shift, every ripple in the fog.
Though her heart wanted to be in the thick of the battle, to fight, shoot, to defend her master's city with blade and arrow, she knew better. Her divine gifts were formidable, yes, but in a large-scale war zone such as this, filled with crossfire, siege spells, and chaos, she could easily become a liability if placed in the wrong position or her truth get revealed. Her role was not to charge, it was to watch, and strike at the exact moment when the tide would turn.
And that moment, she believed, was approaching.
She glanced upward.
Through the narrow window of the watchtower, the sky above had begun to fill with drifting shapes: the hot air balloons. Dozens of them now hovered just above the fog line, carried aloft by the carefully managed flame chambers within. Each balloon had been fine-tuned through countless hours of experimentation. Even on a windy day like this, the counterweights and steering sails allowed them to glide along the outer perimeter of the city instead of drifting dangerously back toward the walls.
Marie stood, walking slowly to the edge of the tower window, and held up a delicate fillet flower, its pale blue petals glowing faintly in the sun. It was the remote ignition disruptor. With a single pulse of it, it would extinguish the fire keeping a balloon afloat: dropping it instantly onto a chosen targets.
"Master gave me this task…" Marie whispered to herself, fingers tightening around the stem of the flower. "And I'll make sure it turns the battle around."
Her voice trembled not with fear, but with anticipation. She could see the enemy's shield formations advancing steadily, unaware of the storm above. The balloons were almost in position. Soon, their payloads: Iron weights, smoke bombs, quicklime satchels, fire oil canisters, would rain down with surgical precision.
Marie took a breath and stepped back, eyes never leaving the sky. The moment was close.
And when it came, she would answer Ravenna's trust with fire from the heavens.