(Meanwhile, Outside the skies of Nemo, Yu Day’s POV)
Yu Day and his men observed the speed of construction ongoing on planet Nemo for a couple hours, before quickly coming to the conclusion that they did not have enough time to wait for reinforcements to arrive, and that they needed to decide whether or not they wanted to attack the planet, right now.
"My Lord, we must move at once. Whether it’s to retreat or attack.
Every second wasted now is like a poison that we drink ourselves.
So what will we do?" The Yu Clan Lieutenant asked, as Yu Day let out a resolute sigh.
*Sigh*
"We attack.... Inform the pilots to be prepared for a tough fight, and inform the men to be prepared to lay down their lives.
The odds of victory are 50-50.
And I fancy those chances."
Yu Day instructed, as the atmosphere within the ship turned grim.
Almost every common soldier within the ship hoped to turn back today and return with more strength later,
However, their Commander had decided that they would fight now, and hence they had no other choice but to obey.
"You heard the Commander..... prepare for war!" The Lieutenant repeated, as the underlings picked up the comms and began relaying the orders.
—-----------
(Meanwhile, on the ground of Planet Nemo)
At the same time as Yu Day and his men observed the Dragon Army, Leo and Veyr observed their ship build-up, feeling slightly relieved when they only counted 8000 ships.
"This is not a full contingent. We still have hope to hold on...." Veyr said after assessing the situation, as Leo nodded in agreement.
"Yes, but do not be deceived by their low numbers, cousin," Leo replied, his tone calm yet sharp as his eyes remained locked to the sky.
"We have only begun setting up rudimentary defences here, a few surface cannons and makeshift missile launchers at best, which means the bulk of this battle will not be fought from the ground.
But will rather be decided above us, in the skies."
Veyr frowned slightly, following Leo’s gaze as Leo painted the most probable picture.
"Our men on the ground can play their part only when the battle for air superiority is concluded.
As until then, their role will be limited to keeping stray units from landing, or picking off the wounded should their ships fall,"
Leo continued, his voice low, as he mentally calculated every possible outcome.
"The reality is this: in a situation like this, it is the pilots who will carry the burden, for the side that secures the skies is the side that dictates the war to come."
He gestured towards the horizon where the Cult’s own squadrons were already assuming battle formations, black banners flapping against the wind as they awaited enemy arrival.
"If we can establish air superiority, we will choke them, deny them the ability to land, and force them to scatter before they can properly align. But if they take the skies from us, then it won’t matter how many walls we build or how bravely our soldiers bleed on the ground, for we’ll be nothing more than prey waiting to be harvested."
Leo concluded as Veyr clutched the hilt of his sword tightly.
"So, let’s focus on helping our pilots as much as we possibly can.
Although the common soldiers can’t play a part in hunting down enemy ships floating dozens of kilometres from the surface, I know that you, me, Viper and Su Pei can.
At least the four of us can join the battle for aerial dominance, and see to it that our side prevails—" Leo said at the end, as Veyr nodded vehemently in agreement.
"I’ll fight as best as I can, Cuz, maybe, I’ll even down more ships than you!" Veyr said bravely, as Leo flashed him a semi-nervous grin.
"Well I hope you do, Cuz, but I don’t think you will!" He replied, as the duo bumped fists and strolled out, their war roles already assigned.
—-----------
(Meanwhile, A couple hours ago, The Dragon Army Soldiers)
Before joining Leo to observe enemy troop movement up in the sky, Veyr had first gone around the base to address the common soldiers, and inform them about the impending Yu Clan invasion.
Upon his big reveal, the cheers that had once echoed through the half-built fortifications died into murmurs of dread, the laughter that had filled the air only hours ago replaced by anxious whispers about ships, shields, and survival.
For most of the common soldiers, the truth struck harder than any blade, for they knew the defences of Nemo were little more than scaffolds and patchwork towers, skeleton frames that could never withstand a full Yu Clan assault, and the knowledge that their lives now hung on the outcome of a battle they were not ready to fight, made many tremble in their boots.
But Veyr, standing tall before them with his chest puffed out, radiated a confidence so steady and unshakable that their fear had nowhere left to cling, as his words carried the warmth of conviction rather than hollow bravado, his tone calm yet commanding, his smile fierce enough to remind them that they were not lambs awaiting slaughter but soldiers of the Cult, warriors entrusted to stand where others might fall.
"Brothers, sisters, I know the fear in your eyes," he said, his voice carrying across the crowd without strain, as if every word were forged of iron. "I know you see the sky brimming with ships, and you think we are doomed before the battle has even begun. But let me tell you this—every ship that comes for us is one more chance for glory, one more chance to prove that we are not the broken ones, not the hunted ones, but the defenders of what we took with our blood and will keep with our blood."
His grin widened as he drew his sword and raised it high, the polished edge catching what little light the overcast sky still offered, and though the soldiers trembled, many found themselves straightening, their spines stiffening as they were caught in the gravity of his spirit.
"They say the Yu Clan are strong," Veyr continued, pacing slowly before them, his eyes meeting theirs one by one. "But I say strength means nothing without resolve. They are coming to us expecting an easy victory, a crippled planet ripe for harvest, and instead they will find the Dragon Army waiting here, ready to fight them in the skies, ready to match them cut for cut, ready to remind them that when the Dragon Army plants its banners on any foreign soil, they do not fall."
The murmurs of dread gave way to chants, hesitant at first, then louder, as the men who had been pale with fear moments earlier now shouted their war cries with a fervor that surprised even themselves, the weight of their terror dissolving under the shield of Veyr’s certainty.
Since the Dragon had said they could win, and since the Dragon himself was leading the charge, the common soldiers believed that they could win as well.
For in the end, their belief in the Dragon was stronger than their fear of death itself.
Such was the culture of the Cult.