There's their second group.

Asgeirr thought as he watched more Phantoms dive from the clouds. They intercepted Thorsten's returning drakes with a barrage of blinding, Solar spells. This was followed by a cacophony of massed detonations as the very air seemed to explode, caused by a volley of combination spells.

The Admiral blinked away his tears from the intense light. He could just make out the sight of Phantoms caracoling away while showering the blinded drakes with grenades, javelins, and yet more spells. Six drakes in the front fell as their wings shredded apart under fire. Several more followed as their riders succumbed to wounds.

Concentrating on the high sorcery that now gripped the battlespace, Asgeirr willed the clouds to begin forming in the Wickers' path even as recovering drakes turned to chase. Both sides might number around one-thirty riders each, but the huge disparity in size left little doubt who was the mighty predator and whom the evasive prey.

Thorsten, my son, make me proud, the Admiral thought before swinging his spyglass to the other battlefront. As the Admiral of the fleet, his attention had to focus on the battle at large and not merely his blood kin.

A chaotic melee had broken out between the first, and larger, Weichsel force and the skywhales' combat air patrol. The two formations had interpenetrated and the Wickers were now trying to hack their way through the smaller flight of drakes and clear the path to the skywhales. Amidst the fighting the Admiral caught sight of a rather unique weapon. It was an enlarged Manteuffel swordstaff -- which he had heard about from the Västergötlander veterans.

The double-bladed 'swordstaff' -- if one could still call it that -- was in its heavy lance form when it stabbed into the neck of a volcanic drake. The magical weapon pushed deep before shrinking to its 'normal' size in the wielder's hands. The senior officer who carried it then cleaved the Outrider's helmet in an overhead fly-by. It was an exceptional attack from someone who clearly had decades of experience in combat.

That must be their general of cavalry -- Neithard von Manteuffel.

Asgeirr turned to the communication tube where he relayed his orders to the bridge command staff:

"Order Thorsten to break through the Phantoms before him and strike at the enemy's first wave. That is where their general fights -- kill him and we will win!"

----- * * * -----

"We have signal!" Ariadne heard the signal officer announce as he looked up towards Colonel Hammerstein.

The thuggish-looking Colonel swept his bulging eyes across the skies. He surveyed the assembled and tense-looking Phantom Grenadiers from atop his hippogryph mount.

"Well what are you all waiting for!? You wanna live forever!?"

His growl quickly rose into a yell as he pointed his swordstaff down towards the heavy clouds.

"Triumph! Fame! Immortality! It's down there! Your courage, your passion, and your pride -- ignite them all in blazing glory and seize it! It is YOURS for the taking!"

The Colonel then spun his swordstaff back, pointing in challenge to each and every one of his cavaliers.

"Let no lord claim yer not good enough! To befoul that your blood, your upbringing, your children aren't good enough! Today, you will show them courage! You will show them honor! You will show them all the true meaning of nobility! NOW WITH ME! CHARGE!!!"

"CHARGE!" Ariadne joined in the echoing shouts as over three hundred riders all plunged their mounts into a steep dive towards the clouds below.

In just a few lines, Colonel Hammerstein had managed to evoke everything those yeomen hated and wanted at the same time. It was a masterpiece performance that elicited a smile of appreciation even from her.

"Gryphons in the lead!" The Colonel commanded.

"Second company, armored wedge!" Captain Hans Herbert shouted.

The yeomen captain was one of those who rode a gryphon mount, and so was his company's entire first platoon. The muscular gryphons could bear more weight and withstand stronger headwinds than the agile pegasi or even the balanced hippogryphs. As a result, they wore plated steel armor which covered their eagle heads and lion-like upper torsos.

In accordance with both aeronautics and assault tactics, the rest of the Phantoms formed up behind the gryphons in a giant V formation to reduce air drag and protect more vulnerable steeds.

Ariadne felt a hint disappointed considering that she was supposed to be the 1st company commander. But then, she wasn't the only one giving up the lead position. Colonel Hammerstein did the same as he stayed with her company as he always did.

Besides, she had an important role that nobody else among them could play.

"Cyclone Blast Field!"

Ariadne channeled her mana and poured it out from her extended left palm.

She wasn't truly a Stormcaller, not yet. She had the affinity and had received some training back at the academy, but she wasn't ready for the certification exam and she knew it. Her techniques still needed work as she relied more on strength than finesse in shaping air currents. The result was that providing a tailwind for their trip back had left her even more tired than she anticipated.

Unlike Colonel Dietrich von Falkenrath, Ariadne couldn't even surround one whole company with wind barriers. The best she could manage was roughly the size of a platoon. This she maintained as a 'whirlwind drill', plowing a road through the static-charged thunderclouds ahead of Captain Herbert's lead platoon.

Their targets finally came into sight after the last cloud blew apart to reveal the ground far below. The armored bulks of four colossal skywhales lumbered through the skies, hurling sparse volleys of ballista bolts into the distant struggle for aerial superiority.

Ariadne could not discern much through the storm clouds. However the echoing explosions and cries told her all she needed to know. Weichsel's first wave had interpenetrated with the Skagen drakes, entangling them in a chaotic aerial melee to buy time for the main strike.

Let's make their sacrifices count.

"SECOND COMPANY: MAXIMIZE FORWARD DEFENSE! FIRST COMPANY: COVERING FIRE!" Colonel Hammerstein bellowed out in a magically amplified voice. "DRUMS!"

The prelude of orchestral battle songs soon began against the noise of howling winds. It was a Weichsel army tradition -- because the more decisive an attack, the more it needed musical accompaniment. Once a unit was committed in heavy assault, words beyond shouted orders grew meaningless. Far more important was the atmosphere that permeated their resolve.

Ariadne released her cyclone drill, hurling it towards the top of the closest skywhale. Voices cried out as some men were blown into the air. More joined as a barrage of multicolored rays hurled onto the defenders' wards.

Yet at the same time, at least a hundred archers atop the other skywhales notched arrows to release rune-infused volleys. They greeted their foes with a curtain of missile fire.

Discharging spells soon met friendly wards in a cascade of thunder -- which was even more literal than Ariadne had expected. Every spark of electricity called down a thunderbolt from above, as though each lightning rune had been blessed by the weather itself.

It's that bastard admiral!

Her ears already rang from the deafening clash of magic. Her eyes blurred from the endless flash of voltage spikes.

But at least the distance was short.

"First company! Switch targets!" Colonel Hammerstein's yell came muffled by the ringing. "Suppress flanking whales!"

The range soon closed to but a few hundred paces. The 1st company's layered wards had been thinned but not broken outright. Their casualties remained surprisingly light.

Yet even through her fuzzy sight, Ariadne soon spotted an anomaly forming on the nearest skywhale's back. Glowing dots connected themselves into a rectangular field of mana, ready to unleash a weapon of unknown power.

"Mana Seeker! Grenades!"

What are you doing?

Ariadne's thought came instantly as she heard Captain Herbert's cry. It was doubtful if his company -- which had bore the brunt of the thunder -- could hear at all. Nevertheless many followed in his example, launching waves of disruptive seekers before drawing grenades.

Phantoms were not supposed to deploy grenades unless they had a crushing magical superiority against their foes. Did that idiot forget? Or had he simply grown accustomed to repeating the same tactic as they had been doing during their raids in the Skagen Peninsula?

"STOP!" she screamed as her eyes glued themselves to the throbbing grid of power on the skywhale's back.

"SCATTER!"

Colonel Hammerstein's shout overcame her other thoughts, prompting Ariadne to press Edelweiss into an emergency dive.

She plunged not a second too soon as the 'anomaly' erupted in a blinding flare, just before the wavefront of Mana Seekers could reach them.

Some had followed the warning. Others obeyed evasive calls from their own leaders. Yet as the mana field on the skywhale's back burst into dozens, no, hundreds of lightning bolts, the bulk of the 2nd company, including the entirety of its gryphon platoon, had been caught within its destructive path.

Crisscrossing beams of electricity hammered through the unit's remaining wards and tore through the formation. They were joined by a massive column of lightning from the overhead clouds, transforming the very airspace into a crackling voltage field.

Next came the blasts as every exposed blast powder grenade detonated. Even a few extradimensional pouches tore apart as the titanic discharge of power overwhelmed their heavy wards.

Ariadne gazed back up to where the 2nd company had been. Her mouth fell agape as she saw nothing but a floating sea of sparks and flames. Men and beasts plummeted from the gigantic fireball in the dozens, each a corpse burning in pitch and tar.

Within the span of seconds, the Phantom Grenadiers had lost over a hundred riders and roughly a third of their strength. Those men were not just wounded or maimed, but annihilated wholesale.

The entire formation now lay shattered. Their momentum paralyzed by their shock and horror at the devastation. Yet amidst the burning rain of fallen comrades, a single rugged rider tore past Ariadne to continue the charge.

In one hand he carried the Black Dragon banner, seized from the bearer of the 1st company. With the other hand he readied his swordstaff blade, crouched beneath his arm just as one would use a lance.

Her ears heard nothing except a steady ringing, but her heart felt every echo of his rallying cry.

Colonel Sir Erwin von Hammerstein was ugly, boorish, crass, and despotic. His intolerable insolence had drawn Ariadne's unforgiving ire since the day they met. But nobody, nobody, could deny that he was a knight to be revered, a leader to be followed.

...Even to the depth of hell itself.

Spurring on her own mount, Ariadne raised her Manteuffel swordstaff high into the air. She enlarged it to maximum size -- a heavy lance almost thrice her height -- before lowering it under her arm into a jousting stance.

"HOLY FATHER WITH US! CHARGE!"

There was no way she would let herself fall short next to him.

 

Air Battle of Nordkreuz, Phase 2.
Airborne battle rages while Hammerstein's Phantom Grenadiers are unleashed upon the skywhales.