Steel and Mana

Chapter 344 – Aftermath

The fires had begun to die down, though the raining embers for the sky still smoldered everywhere, especially in the ruined districts of the Capital. The whole Imperial City was casting a faint, flickering glow over the outlines of collapsed buildings, those that were hit by either Avalon's bombs or the spells of the howitzers, getting through the shattered shield. The air was thick where their smoke concentrated, filled with the stench of charred wood, molten stone, and the faint tang of cooked blood—especially where the firebird passed by before being deflected to the Heavens. The sky, momentarily showing the stars and the Cosmos where the Six Gods resided, was now back to its normalcy, clear as if the majestic image of Heaven was never even there. Instead, it was slowly brightening, turning from black to orange while the sun was gradually rising in the East.

The morning was upon them, and the city had fallen.

A heavy silence lay over Ishillia's supposedly untouchable Capital. There were no more screams, no more cries for war. It was filled with the dazed stillness of a city too stunned and scared to resist the returning Empress and her allies. Most of the streets were now littered with debris, shattered glass, and the occasional collection of bodies being gathered into a pile by soldiers. Mirian was walking through it, sitting in her mech, flanked by her own soldiers, her Ishillian banner flying high so everyone would know who was there to reclaim the city.

The defenders of Ishillia, those who had survived the night, surprisingly many, in fact, stood in solemn ranks before the advancing machine, gazing up at it with terror and awe. They knew that there was no more fighting spirit left in them. In a way... they were happy it was finally over. The horror they had witnessed, the very magic their supposed Emperor had unleashed, had broken them in ways no machine, flying fortress, or burning swords ever could. It simply made everyone realize why Mirian rebelled and that they were lucky she did so. Many of the military leaders thought they would be soon executed, and the same was true for those nobles who sided with the Eternal Emperor. Their faces were hollow, their eyes vacant, as if their souls were close to flying away by themselves.

Captain Eren Forche, still standing upon the outer ramparts, barely registered his own sword slipping from his numb fingers when the others began to surrender. His blade clattered to the ground, its sound echoed by all of the others, following his example. His men, those who had once proudly sworn to defend the Imperial City with their lives, were now kneeling, hands raised in submission towards the black armored warriors, climbing up the walls in their skull-shaped helmets. Yes... It was over. The Capital was offered up by its own defenders. They won't protect a ruler who wants to burn down everything.

"Long live Empress Mirian!" Someone shouted somewhere deep in the city, and soon it began spreading. By the time the combined forces of Avalon had occupied most of the city, the chant was echoing from everywhere.

As the sun rose, so the soldiers continued advancing, following Oleg's orders, surrounding the inner city, the core that belonged to the Ishillian bloodline. Even if the city had fallen, that didn't mean Ishillia fell or that Mirian's attack killed the Emperor. The Spear was gone... After throwing it, it never returned to Mirian's arm, but then again, Pascal also went eerily silent, along with the burning Palace. It could still mean many things. Avalon was preparing a second battle, allowing its forces to get into position and, if necessary, pummel the whole area until it flattened utterly.

Buzzing high in the sky, all of their planes were circling the core like vultures, searching for clues and signs of movement. But, so far... it seemed empty. Dead.

"Keep ready," Pion muttered, hailing his squad, "We are facing Ishillia. Their magic can still be active... We must be ready for anything. Even for a second firebird..."

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Pion wasn't exactly wrong. As Avalon's forces advanced, the remnants of Ishillia's actual noble houses, those who carried his extensive bloodline and their loyal commanders, had barricaded themselves in the Palace. It became a heavily fortified space, activating all the ancient formations the different branches had to protect themselves... Even if they probably amounted to nothing against what was waiting for them outside. Though their numbers were few, they were still Ishillians, many of them able to cast their own spells. The air inside the Palace was cold and filled with tangible fear as nobody dared to speak or move loudly, afraid it would bring down the Gods' wrath once again. Most of the servants scurried through the halls barefooted, their faces pale and their hands trembling as they carried what little they had, trying to escape. They believed that as mere maids and aides, they wouldn't be slaughtered. It was still a better bet than remaining somewhere where they may be used for another ritual as a sacrifice.

Inside what remained of the Imperial Grand Hall, multiple dukes were gathered up, trying to come up with an idea of what to do. They knew they were trapped. The rest of the bloodline sealed themselves off in their own towers or courtyards... Refusing to come out. They were abandoned. The once-imposing figures now seemed diminished and useless, their shoulders slumped under the thought of their utter defeat. When the first sunlight broke into the room, it was as if they also woke up from a nightmare, yet it came with the realization it wasn't just a dream. This was reality. The hard and cold truth.

"This is the end of Ishillia as we knew it," one of them murmured, a younger duke who was a nobody before only a decade ago. His voice was barely above a whisper, and he wished that he remained only a Marquess... Avoiding what was probably coming for all of them. He realized that the others didn't say anything, and as he looked up at them, he could hear his words hung in the air like a death knell. They were thinking of the same thing.

"What... What if..." Another freshly promoted duke finally snapped out of it, blinking his blue eyes, "What if we surrender?"

"Don't you hear the chants?" An older one asked, a hollow smile on his wrinkled face. "Mirian Ishillia has returned. We are the rebels now."

"And rebels get to hang out together." Another joked darkly, many of them suddenly hearing ropes tightening, swinging in the air.@@novelbin@@

"Well..." The first one to speak stood up, straightening his body with an acceptance that gave him the resolve he needed. "I won't wait in fear. I am going... If we are to die, at least get it over with quickly."

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Mikan sat at the edge of Sasha's bed, her fingers pressed gently against the skin of the unconscious sister of hers, holding her wrist. The pulse was steady, and her breathing was even. Yet no matter what she tried, sending her magic into her, Sasha did not react. The room aboard the Camelot was dimly lit, so even if she woke up, the intense light wouldn't hurt her senses. But it didn't seem she was about to wake just yet.

Sasha wasn't alone.

Leon lay in a bed beside her, his complexion even more pallid than hers, his body unnaturally still. One could even think he was dead. Looking at him, Mikan closed her eyes, exhaling slowly as if the weight of the world rested on her shoulders, rubbing her bulging belly. Just then, the door opened, and Luna walked in, bringing a fresh bowl of cold water, here to wash down their bodies once again, trying to cool them down.

"Mikki... are they...?" She asked the same question she did a hundred times already.

"They're alive," Mikan smiled at last, glancing toward her and noticing the gathered officers, including Oleg, Kustov, Elena, and Merlin, standing outside the room. With a wave of her hand, she signaled for the four to come in. "But whatever happened out there… whatever magic the Emperor and Sasha unleashed, whatever force Leon resonated with—it drained them both. Their bodies weren't meant to withstand it. I mean..."

She stopped, fell silent, and pressed a hand lightly against Sasha's forehead, noting the stable heat there as if embers of her power still fumed beneath the surface, bubbling. Yet her face was peaceful, almost serene, signaling that she was alright—that she just needed time.

"Sasha exhausted her magical reserves, likely pushing herself past her limits," Mikan continued. "She'll recover with rest."

Then, she turned her gaze to Leon, frowning with worry. Luna was already at work, dosing her husband's body, washing him carefully. His condition was more troubling. His skin was, in turn, almost pink, blazingly hot to the touch, and his breathing labored as if his body were burning away every ounce of energy, it had left. Mikan adjusted her position, a light glow around her body as she used her powers to scan his vitals, her fingers brushing against his heart from above.

"Leon's situation is different." Her voice was softer now, almost ashamed she was unable to do anything. "My best guess is that... His blood was too weak to handle the force resonating with him. Whatever that thing was outside, it did touch him… it recognized him, connected with him—but his body couldn't bear the strain of that connection."

"Will..." Oleg spoke up, unable to finish his words.

But he didn't have to say the words aloud. Everyone present understood the implications. Because Mikan didn't answer immediately, the room seemed to grow colder for a moment, and the others' fears also began to press down on them.

"They'll wake?" Elena finished in the end, her voice as firm as he could force it to be.

"I think..." Mikan hesitated before nodding. "Eventually. But we can't rush it. This is beyond any magic I know of." She said clearly, glancing at Merlin, but he also shook his head, telling her that even he was stumped for the moment. Seeing the wordless exchange, a heavy silence fell over the room.

"For now," Merlin finally said, finding his voice, "this information can't leave the Camelot yet. We will continue as we were and let Mirian handle the situation. She is the returning Empress, after all."

"What about Yuri?" Luna asked, making Merlin press his lips together, pouting.

"I already informed her and Lord Kalash... The latter is waiting for further information as we learn more... The former... She said, and I quote: Mikki can bring them back with a deep kiss, no worries. She just needs to use her tongue."

After a momentary surprised silence, everyone chuckled a bit, hearing him mimic Yuri's voice.

"She," Merlin shrugged, "is staying down to keep an eye on the Ishillians. General, you should also do the same."

"Yes." Oleg saluted, refocusing his mind, happy to occupy himself with his mission.

"Captain Kustov, bring the Camelot over towards the South. General Oleg, also redraw our forces to prepare to defend anything coming from the South!"

"The South?" Everyone asked, Making Merlin nod.

"The army coming from the East still needs time to arrive—multiple days. But..." Merlin sighed, pinching the ridge of his nose, "I sent two of our planes in both directions. The one in the South came back with the news that an army was moving towards us."

"Ishillian? Or...?" Oleg flinched, becoming even more serious.

"We don't know, but they are badly battered based on what our scout saw. Could be either."

"We will be ready." Oleg saluted, storming out of the room, already raising his radio to his mouth to issue orders.

"I'm going, too." Kustov saluted, glancing at her daughter once. He nudged her towards Merlin before exiting the room to brief the rest of the officers waiting outside.

When they were left alone, Mikan looked down at Sasha and Leon again. Her expression was a mixture of worry and wonder. Whatever happened to them... it was connected to that spell. It was connected to them. There were still so many they didn't know about magic, and she felt that whatever they had to overcome this time... it wasn't normal.