The Prince of Blood (boyxboy)

4.Pride and Humility

Three weeks later, 100 kilometres above sea level, aboard the great air station REM-13, named after the Second Prince Remlin Yonsor, created in the 13th year of King Raynior's reign, military officers ran back and forth frantically with last minute preparations. On the hologram screens which capture live footage from the cameras below the cloud like air station, a row of Opalian fighter jets flew by and tiny specs of tanks rolled across the plains, towards a small town that was primed and prepped for an ambush.

Ace got into the cockpit of a Parisora ACE-24, it was model of plane named after him, created in the 24th year of his father's reign, also known as his 18th birthday gift from King Raynior. Claude was already seated in the co-pilot seat, still stubbornly wearing his tattered black robes.

"They've taken the bait well," Ace exclaimed excitedly. Three days prior, they had the supply line information leaked to the Opalian army following Claude's meticulous planning, even down to the words the spy who did the deed had to say. To say Ace was in awe would be a severe understatement. "You really are incredible," Ace commented.

"No," Claude said, "I'm merely copying the work of another."

"The badass female tactician?"

"Yes," he replied, tapping his fingers impatiently on the armrest of his seat. "Now can you stop chatting and start the engines? They're in range!"

Ace chuckled as he took off with Claude rolling his eyes in the copilot seat. The comms came on and he ran through the protocol roll call with the squad of fighter jets he was flying with. Then, he charged towards the jets and tanks just up ahead.

"Surely you know how to aim and shoot," Claude muttered as he downed a bottle of vodka.

Ace frowned. "Where did you get that? And yes I know how use a fighter jet, I'm not stupid."

"The bottle, I got from your room," Claude said. "Just make sure you only hit the green ones and not the white ones."

"Should you be drinking right now?"

"I can't get drunk, it's really a curse," Claude answered, "so relax, you won't die on my watch." He was careful to not use words like heavy weight, his body did not process alcohol the same way as mortals. If anyone bothered analysing his wording, they would realise that, though very few would have the mind to.

"That gives me zero reassurance."

Ace set up his fighter jet to lock onto a green Opalian fighter. "It's automated," he said as he fired. A blast of flames roared as the target fighter jet exploded upon impact of a missile. He quickly looped around for another target, this time for a tank on the ground.

The Parisora forces snatched a swift victory as the Opalian fighter jets and tanks were taken out in the matter of minutes. The whole ordeal could not have lasted any longer than ten minutes, much to Ace's surprise and to Claude's astonishment. Claude thought he could have done it in a tenth of that time. However, as Claude's teacher always told him, great moments of pride and celebration are also great moments of weakness.

Ace clapped his hands together and cheered as the last fighter jet went down. "We did it!"

Claude groaned, "no we did not, nuclear missile heading your way, Your Highness!"

Ace looked down at the radar, it was just in range and moving at a remarkably fast speed. He shot out a scatter of chaffs, which were metallized glass fibre aimed to overcrowd or misdirect the tracking software of the oncoming missile, before manoeuvring the fighter out of the way just in time for the missile to strike a fake target of metallized glass fibre and explodes.