Walküre der Töten

The power of the Seventh True Dragon, War, was to summon an army at will, but that didn't matter because he didn't need it.

Xian Fang had never seen it coming. Cesar had set a deadly trap, luring her into a battle she could never win. While each creature under her command was a life she could not replenish, while she was unaware of what other tricks her opponent could save. The forgotten emperor had feigned incompetence all this time, only to reveal his true face in one simple and decisive crushing move. The witch could be considered dead; at best, she had hours of life left if the undead army took its time, but they were tireless, their fury greater, their will unbreakable, unstoppable.

Without needing to be a prophet, she could see her end in the palm of her hand.

Backed into a corner, she had no choice but to make her final, desperate move. Looking at the beauty and grandeur of the continent of Atlantis, soaring majestically and shamelessly in the sky, she gave up her ambition. Now it was a matter of surviving the day of destruction. From an old and cursed safe filled with papers, ropes, and wax seals, she pulled out an ancient parchment that her travels and knowledge of magic had led her to in her younger years. Despite the ancient, lost, and unknown text in which it was written, the first letters of the same could be read clearly, to the horror of any mortal: "In the name of the Brutal Infernal Lord, the soul of the present is sold in exchange for protection," a dangerous contract whose repercussions were mysterious yet dangerous. It was clear that the time to be paid for such a thing would be literally eternal. But Xian Fang, deluding herself, thought that perhaps she would have time later to avoid the consequences of such an act. From among the dark shadows of the house emerged a new figure, an envoy of the infernal lord, an inspector of the law who had come to ensure that the signing of the contract was legitimate before lifting a single finger.

"It's good to see that after all this time you are finally thinking about the contract."
"Please sign with your blood on the line at the end."
"Be careful what you write, this document is important and special," said the ambassador reaper.

Only a moonbeam was the only light in the wizard's house, faintly illuminating the contract paper. The Moon Goddess looked directly into Xian Fang's eyes, a smile of both pride and condemnation on her face, mocking the Imperial Immortal Priestess for resorting to such a lowly practice to avoid the downfall she had brought upon herself with her unrestrained ambition. Being seen as less than others was the greatest sin against her person that Xian Fang detested, so with renewed fury, she cut off part of her palm and signed the contract with her blood. The lawyer read the paper carefully, checking its legality and admissibility in court, and after seeing the approval, he put it away in his briefcase. Then he snapped his fingers and an infernal flame consumed Xian Fang's body, transforming her from an old but still human magician into something different and cruel, a new monster born from the ashes of her old self. The new demon took on a form reminiscent of the man-eating Arachnea she had been so obsessed with in life.

The new creature was now Xian Fang, the newest commander of the infernal army. A monster with a disfigured face, the scars and smell of burnt flesh still lingering on her new body, a creature as hideous as the new army she commanded. Her mission now was to lead her army into battle and conquer the territory of Atlantis for the benefit of the Hells, a massive war bastion with which to gain another asset in the eternal struggle. The setting was ideal; the Emperor sat on his throne, the land he commanded visible in the distance, and the same enemy had used the city's magical seal to hide its summons. It was time to seize it, now that the sorcerer had a new, improved, and rejuvenated army to fight for control.

The first thing the witch called for were the assault ships; now that she knew such technology existed, she thought that perhaps by attacking from space with powerful space battleships, she could bring the Emperor to his knees in a swift celestial assault. A dozen ships made the jump, exiting hyperspace in a fraction of a second and appearing in the sky above the battlefield in an all-out assault against the enemy. But the enemy Emperor remained unfazed; perhaps even faster and more sudden than the spaceships were the anti-aircraft defenses of Atlantis, which responded to the appearances with brutal artillery fire and rays capable of quickly wearing down the shield of such magnificent engineering. It was no coincidence that the Atlantean civilization did not declare war on the heavens until they were ready. The war against the dragons only served to further strengthen such machines with the necessary advancements to face such untamed beasts; mere spaceships were nothing more than target practice. Perhaps that's why they still reserved the heavy weapons inside the floating island.

Such a reaction was unexpected for Xian Fang, who undoubtedly least expected such a crushing response from what she understood to be the ruins of an ancient and lost civilization. Nevertheless, she continued to call for more large ships to join the battle, now with the modest task of keeping the sky above the great emperor's head occupied. Looking around at her forces, she thought that perhaps the only way to win now would be with a combined operation of different armies, so she called upon the lesser demons to be the foot soldiers, the bulk of her new troops. From the vicinity of the house, red-skinned creatures with bitter voices rose and launched the attack, moving toward the front lines, advancing mercilessly. From the trenches, the Emperor's army fired their machine guns, together in a concentrated effort they protected their trenches, clinging to the territory they'd gained with greed, the Demons couldn't overwhelm the enemy, but they managed to stop the enemy's advance, forcing them to retreat to their more fortified positions, just after the tank attack, which fired ceaselessly to cover the retreat of their comrades.

Looking for the next step, the cursed magician called upon the heavy assault division. Their specialty was to break the stalemate of a battle with strength and speed. Armed with light vehicles, but with determination and courage, they would be able to maneuver behind enemy lines and attack the Emperor while his forces were busy attacking the front lines. From the few surviving paved roads, amidst machines of fire and steel, they sped at full throttle toward the head of the enemy leader. Terrible screams were their signal to charge, cursed lives eager to trample all they could.

The Emperor on his throne could sense the valiant suicide attack aimed at him, but still the Ruler remained unfazed by the new threat, instead simply calling out his next move.

"Poland broke before the guard did,"
"Baptized in fire,"
"Seventy to one,"
"When the Elite Hussars 44th arrived, from the top mountain downside."

Just like their counterparts in the war against the dragons, the brave horsemen rode downhill at full speed to attack. Their anti-tank weapons at the ready, their horses galloping in a blaze of glory. Skillfully, they slipped behind enemy light armored vehicles and fired, destroying the enemy's attack in an instant, saving them from defeat, just as in real history. The Emperor watched complicitly as his attack was executed with total precision, remembering how he had been saved in the past by such a display of bravery and sacrifice.

Answering the call for reinforcements from the Hell Fleet, a new Leviathan-class special ship arrived on its own. The flagship, Litany of Fury, made its presence known as it emerged from the rift, unaware of the true strength of the battle it was entering. It was greeted with a barrage of attacks and explosions as the vast continent rumbled its might halfway across the sound. The still bored Emperor paid no attention to the aerial battle yet, knowing that the attack would eventually fade under its own weight. Instead, he turned his attention to see what move Xian Fang would make next, with the slight hope of perhaps seeing something new on the battlefield for the first time, a moment of joy for the ruler. Xian Fang tried to respond with something better after seeing the huge battle between sky and land, so she thought of involving another part by using the nearby lake where the original city was built. She called upon the infernal Ayamandar Choir. From the powerful magic of the invocation, a dozen metal ships sailed to Lake Dian Chi, ready to lend every possible support to both the troops in the sky and those fighting on land. Their rockets swept in all directions, columns of fire crisscrossing the sky, adding to the chaos.

The True Dragon, finally raising an eyebrow at seeing a new battlefront open, couldn't resist the temptation to take the war to a new place, so he raised his left hand again, without moving much, and called out to his subordinates.

"The ship that comes to push their luck back"
"With her Five Fateful Minutes at Midway Naval macht"
"By the enemy Sunk three times, but defeats never met"
"She comes at once, Enterprise, the goddess of luck and war is back"

A new beast appears in the same lake, right next to the fleet of the Ayamandar Choir, a new unit of ships takes its place, among them a citadel stands bravely ready for battle, the most famous ship in the history of mankind adorns all with its brilliant glow, thirsty for another victory, on its deck a squadron of planes awaits, their engines already roaring. The enemy fleet sends its best pilots against the legendary carrier, but it is already one step ahead, delivering a devastating blow, its pilots smiling as they go in for the kill. Finally, the rest of the Gray Ghost's allied companions join the attack, a brutal torpedo assault to sink the infernal fleet, but perhaps that is not all, perhaps the submarines lurking in position are ready to attack. The demon fleet is not intimidated, but the flagship Ayamandar is already ablaze, its ammunition depot blown apart by the first dive-bomber attack, and without its cover the others can only serve as shields against the relentless assault of the Emperor's personal naval fleet.

But the naval assault didn't end there; called upon by both the battle and its sister, the Emperor's Seventh Fleet called for a more modern and recent addition, so the Continental War's Essex CVN-88 arrived at the same lake to assist where her World War II ancestors could not. Its artillery and advanced armament were capable of supporting the space battle raging in the highest skies. Seeing such a ridiculous power, Xian Fang slammed her fist on the table. How could the emperor bring such a thing to the battlefield? This ship had not been destroyed or sunk; how could the enemy summon the spirit of something that had not yet died? But what the mage never thought about was the reason behind the summoning in the first place, nothing was random.

The Emperor's power had only pretended once more, first bringing out the old weapons, then scaring with the real strike that was now in motion. The Sovereign did not hesitate with his next call.

"In the dead of night, the bombers take flight"
"Operation Thunderdome, the city's plight"
"Through the darkened sky, they bravely roam"
"Target in sight, facing anti-air's domain"

The already crowded sky filled up even more as a huge group of supersonic B2 bombers swooped in, ready to drop their bombs on both the no-man's-land and the huge ship Litany of Fury. But it was nothing more than a mere distraction from their defenses, for hidden among the bombs were several brave paratroopers who would attempt to board and occupy their rival's ship, just as they had done in New York. The carriers of the Seventh Fleet didn't lag behind either, and even legendary Enterprise pilots like Ace Flash Gordon couldn't resist adding another kill to their record.

Meanwhile, on the front lines in No Man's Land, soldiers fought valiantly against a relentless horde of repulsive creatures, but the battle dragged on longer than necessary. The True Dragon had grown tired of seeing what little power his rival had borrowed, so he called for a final formation.