The Exalt [Cultivation Fantasy]

Countless explosions swept their fiery bursts on Dragonheart City, the sounds of cannons ceaselessly boomed earshocking noises, the kind Oscar had never heard before. He had never been in the center of this many ships firing at once. Distortions rippled on the transparent barrier, the light refracting into multiple colors carried in expanding waves. The attacks were blocked, but the heat from the savage fires traveled through, grass drying and dying, stone cracking and crumbling, and the moats sizzling and dissipating into smoke.

Unbothered, Oscar continued to observe the outside, and his eyes widened underneath his helmet, shaken by rows of golems floating among the enemy ships and Exalts. Ordinary golems for sieges, assault, and devastation floated around as well, but Oscar clenched his hands, seams of his gloves tearing from how strongly he gripped. He scrutinized the special golems again, daring not to believe it. However, reality sunk in, and he growled, "Those bastards…who the hell is the traitor?"

Sentinels, Gol-4's specially crafted golems that were a cut above others in combat and adaptability, marched alongside the enemy. The thick armor covering them from head to toe and the broad shapes of their bulky frame, appearing like paladins depicted in books, exuded a dangerous Ein. Gol-4 had always mentioned the inspiration came from looking at a fully clad warrior in the folk stories, demonstrating valor, strength, and honor. Now, his creations were stolen and used against Oscar.

"Who is it?!" He stomped on the ground, caving in part of the central road, alarming the ones around him. The idea of a traitor troubled him so greatly that he trembled. The only ones who were privy to the blueprints were a few top people like Aunt Rosett, and she directed the creation of the golems, having the fabricators create the parts but never letting them be privy to the whole. Aunt Rosett could not be the traitor, but it left a few candidates, and he didn't want to believe any of them would commit such a heinous act.

He realized mulling over it wasn't productive and scoffed at the enemy's foolishness. If they wished to play, then he would destroy their chances. Quickly, he ordered Alec to go to the communications center in the Imperial Palace, telling him to establish a voice and Ein connection to everywhere around Dragonheart City and link to the Blue Ocean Pavilion, also presumably under attack by Sentinels.

A few minutes later, Alec returned with a large white orb that buzzed a strange, constant sound akin to bees flying near the ear. Giving the orb to Oscar, he said, "The enemy has locked down the space, so the portals are shut down. But the officers managed to create a link. It will work for ten seconds, and your voice and Ein will be projected to both here and the Pavilion."

Oscar poured his Ein to activate the orb, and it shone brightly, many voices calling out from within. Ten seconds. That was enough. Angered by the mysterious traitor, he spoke coldly, "I don't know who you are, but traitors deserve a fate worse than death." His words echoed everywhere, catching the attention of everyone who looked around for the source. "But you made a crucial mistake, stealing those blueprints. Sentinels! Destroy the enemy ships around you!"

Like a passing breeze, his Ein wafted in all directions. The Sentinels, receiving the voice command and identifying Ein, lifted their mechanical heads. Before the enemy, who were still confused, could react, the Sentinels raised their hands and fired blasts of Ein onto the enemy ships, several crashing to the floor already. When Gol-4 taught him about the formations for the cores, he also adjusted it so Oscar's voice and Ein would trigger the master control. In hindsight, it was a stroke of genius.

The Sentinels, though small in number, tore apart ship after ship. Their engraved thinking process and adaptation helped them to maneuver to the more important enemy ships, which were still destroyable by their means. The enemy ships could not fire since other ships were close by. Even while their armor was dented and their mechanical limbs broken, they defied the false creators and fought for their mission. Piece by piece, the Sentinels fell, their ruined metal bodies cast down from the sky, but they were not alone as many ships fell by their side.

"UOOHHH!" His allies cheered. Even though the Sentinels had fallen, they took down around a tenth of the enemy ships, including a few key Vorpalares.

However, the enemy was undeterred. They rallied themselves back into formations and moved toward the barrier. The remaining Vorpalares began to drill into the barrier, and the Garantulems and surrounding ships aimed their guns at the increasing cracks, firing at the protruding tips of the Vorpalares, a back-and-forth game to prevent others from entering. The other enemy ships fired while the Exalts flew together with Ercanal-fives, the special structures that adapted to barriers and acted as a tunnel for invaders to enter.

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"To arms! Hold this place, no matter the cost!" Gavir shouted, his spear pointing at the approaching Ercanals. Rather than spread their forces all over the city, they formed a strong defensive line around the Imperial Palace.

"My friends, my soldiers. Never let them take a single step forward. For our home and families, fight until you can't move. Use your teeth to tear out their throats!" Oscar shouted.

The Ercanal-fives reached the barrier and quickly formed the gaps for enemy Exalts to enter the city freely. Changing targets, Garantulems and the other ships divided their targets, firing at every gap formed by the Ercanal-fives. The constant firing slowed the enemy's advance. Still, as more gaps formed and their fleet had to split their attention, enemy Exalts slipped inside, weaving through the constant cannon fire, slowly but everywhere, gathering to mount an offense.

"Ranged spells! Fire!" Oscar shouted. Behind him, countless ranged spells arced across the air and onto the enemy. He raised his shield and charged at the incoming wave.

…….

"Never falter!" Julius Evergrant Dragnar, clad in silver armor, dragons opening their maws on his shoulder and helmet, roused his forces. The enemy gathered like a swarm of flies, and battles broke out everywhere. He calmed himself and jumped into the air, facing his three opponents. "Welcome to my home, my fellow emperors."

"It's been a while, Emperor Dragnar. I wish we could have visited in better circumstances." The emperor of the Scarlet Griffon Empire, Gess Gideon Griffreen, clad in scarlet armor, griffons perching on his shoulders, gripped his spear.

"This battle involves the fate of our homes. There is no better circumstance than to meet in the heat of this moment." The emperor of the Black Tortoise Empire, Ecalen Bolof Torton, taller than the rest and clad in black armor, turtle shells covering his joints, wielded his twin shields, resembling the two halves of a turtle shell.

"Let the city run red with the blood of its fallen master. You're facing the three of us, Julius." The final man, the emperor of the Emerald Hydra Empire, Srisen Stromiel Hydrakes, clad in emerald armor, snakes coiling around the limbs, raised his flexible blade, the metal wiggling around, flimsy like a piece of paper.

"It'll be my honor to host you all here. But you won't be leaving." Ein poured out of Julius, light enveloping his very being. A dragon's roar echoed from his body. He lifted his axe and swung once, a powerful burst of light parting the air and devastating everything in its path. "Here, I am far more powerful, thanks to the dragon's blessing. You have no chance."

"That's why we're fighting you three against one. An impressive final measure set up by your ancestors. The power flowing in you is coming from the Imperial Palace, isn't it? We can keep you occupied until the palace is destroyed." Ecalen sneered.

Julius smirked, laughing inside his helmet. "You underestimate my people. They won't let you win."

……

Maia Claude pierced into the barrier, lashing her whip at the incoming projectiles. She flew straight ahead and spotted Oscar near the Imperial Palace gates. Anger drew up in her heart and escaped as flames from her lips. Ignoring the others, she tried to dive, but a flash of light passed an inch away from her face.

"Who?" Maia halted and stared at the newcomer.

"It's me. Nice to meet you again, Lady Claude." Charles, the arrogant and playful prince, faced her.

Grinding her teeth, Maia cursed out, "I have no time for a brat like you. Get out of my way."

"That's rude. We're of the same generation. While I prefer bigger fish to fry, you'll do for now." Charles glared at her, the golden eyes shrinking to a draconic stare, vast amounts of hostility and pressure crawling on her skin. His amphiptere anime manifested and melded into his dual blade, transforming into two draconic wings for blades. "Don't think you can hide behind your family again."

"Fine. I'll kill you first." Maia melded her snake anima into her whip. Oscar's life would be left for later.

…….

Oscar tore apart an enemy Exalt and crushed the head of another. He assessed the situation, and they were doing well so far. The constant firing of the fleet into the holes in the barrier lessened the burden, so their chances of holding remained high. Oscar readied to fight more. Then, he felt a powerful presence approaching from above.

"OSCAR!" A large behemoth of a man landed on the street, kicking up a mess of rubble. Clad in armor from head to toe, he stomped to the surface, carrying a large hammer in his right hand.

"Orden. I knew it would be you." Oscar stomped his feet toward Orden. The ground trembled as he neared Orden. He gripped his shield, sensing a dangerous and unsettling feeling from his adversary.

"This time. You'll be dead." Orden declared, raising his hammer.

"Try, but my life is not yours to take." Oscar bolted ahead. Both he and Orden let out a roar. Shield bashed against hammer. The ground split in two between them, and they unleashed their might, growling at each other, helmet gazing into helmet. This time, he would not let his enemy escape again, nor did Orden seem to want to leave. Finally, their long rivalry would come to a close here.

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