First Light of a New Age

Chapter 107: Fleet Contact

Kingdom Of High Tarxa, In An Ocean, High Tarxan Sea, Island of Arlithrien, In A Tarxan Island Outpost, Inside A Forest,

1st Year of God. Monday, 1st Week, Month Of David

Moments Earlier…

Lord Caelith's second-in-command was taken aback by the repetitive thunder of shots forcing him to fall to his butt. The shots were landing all over the beachhead that sent many of the elves sprawling, injured or worse. Their passive magical defenses, normally sufficient to shield them from conventional attacks, crumbled under the sheer force and sophistication of these weapons.

These projectiles were far more destructive than any musket the elves had ever encountered. If this was truly the Iron Kingdom’s doing, their weaponry had advanced well beyond known capabilities.

But something about this assault felt unfamiliar. The cadence of the volleys, the design of the monstrous steel vessels, none of it aligned with the dwarven craftsmanship typically associated with the Iron Kingdom's forces. 

No, this wasn’t the Iron Kingdom. The invaders were from a nation unknown to the elves. The flag that the invaders were raising was alien, and the drab grey of their uniforms struck the commanding officer as offensive in its stark contrast to the elves’ ornate vibrant tradition. 

"Do these people have no sense of pride or grandiose?" he wondered bitterly, disgusted by their lack of aesthetic refinement. 

But more troubling than their appearance was the eerie absence of magic. The second-in-command felt nothing, no aura, no trace of mana emanating from their attackers except for the weapon on top. It was unthinkable. Such devastation without magic? Impossible. 

"Could such power truly exist without mana?" the officer thought with disbelief and unease warring in his mind. 

Shortly after, the commanding officer returned to reality as the screams and agony from his fellow elves dragged him back to the brutal reality at hand. He looked to his side, and saw that the elves under his command were thrown into a disarray, with many frozen in fear and their magic faltered under the invader's attack. Those who acted cast weak-level magic as fear had overtaken them.

The responsibility is now weighing on him and so he immediately stood back up and ordered the men to reorganise and to counterattack.

"Fools! Regroup! Prepare high-tier spells that could melt even the hardest of steel, and use Metamagic Enhancements to amplify it! I hate to admit it, but these invaders wield advanced magic technology far beyond ours, we cannot afford hesitation. Spread out and find cover immediately!"

His booming orders snapped some of the elves out of their paralysis, spurring them into motion. They scrambled to regroup, casting spells and seeking cover among the rocks and trees. The commanding officer watched as incantations began to take shape and the air became thick with crackling energy. 

Upon hearing the shout and order of their commander, some elves were snapped out of their paralysis and immediately moved into action, while most took their time to scramble to regroup, casting spells and seeking cover among the rocks and trees. The commanding officer watched as incantations began to take shape and the air became thick with crackling energy. 

At last, one elf completed their spell. A torrent of searing magic surged toward the nearest steel behemoth that glided across the waves with unnatural speed. The invaders’ linear formation left them exposed to magical counterattacks, a weakness the elves exploited with all the physical enhancements they could muster. 

For a fleeting moment, the officer dared to hope their magic might yet turn the tide of this unfamiliar war. 

“[Grand Fireball]!”