(Onboard The Destroyer Battleship, Raymond's POV)
"Expected arrival time outside the skies of Juxta is 29 minutes 40 seconds, Lord Raymond," the Lieutenant reported, his voice taut with duty.
Raymond gave a slow nod, his fingers drumming lightly against the armrest of his command chair as he stared out into the endless sweep of space.
In his mind, he was marching toward a grave already dug, the kind of death he had quietly accepted the moment this campaign began.
Yet, for the sake of his family's honor, he kept a calm face and led his men with a charm befitting the son of the Eternal Sovereign.
Slowly, as the minutes passed, the pink arc of Juxta's planetary barrier kept growing larger and larger on the viewing pane, until the entire planet filled the battleship's front window.
'Anytime now.... Soron should appear anytime now...'
Raymond thought, as his pulse quickened despite himself.
At this moment, he expected light to flash, runes to bloom, a divine hand to strike the entire fleet from the stars.
Yet nothing happened.
The fleet kept inching closer to Juxta.... And closer still, until the fleet was practically kissing the planet's mana barrier, and yet no response came.
There was no sign of Soron.
No devastating counterstrike.
No god descending from the fourth dimension to swat them from the heavens.
"Your orders, Lord Raymond?" the Lieutenant asked, unable to keep the tremor out of his voice, as Raymond's eyes narrowed, the weight of his own disbelief hidden beneath a mask of command.
"Deploy the shield breakers," he said flatly, as the Lieutenant relayed the orders immediately.
Within seconds, from within the forest of ships, three colossal drills unfolded like the claws of some deep-sea beast, their runed spires glowing with unstable light as they aligned themselves before the shimmering barrier.
Each device spat a lance of mana, their frequency shifting with every heartbeat, as they scraped and probed, searching for the resonant note that would make the entire shield sing and split.
*BRRRR–*
Seconds stretched into minutes, the entire fleet holding its breath as the beams flickered through thousands of tones until –
*CRRRRRRAAAACK*
The soundless crack rolled through the void as the barrier's lattice shuddered, its glow splintering like a spider's web under a hammer blow.
Juxta's planetary barrier faltered, flared once in protest, then shattered, dissolving into streaks of dying light that rained harmlessly into the planet's atmosphere.
'Surely, he will come now.... But from where?'
Raymond thought, as his hand tightened on the armrest.
By all logic, this should have been the moment Soron appeared, but surprisingly the heavens remained empty even as the broken barrier's fragments faded.
"The fuck is going on here?"
Raymond wondered, as the men turned toward him again, faces pale and expectant.
"Enter the planet," Raymond said at last, his voice iron-hard.
"Destroy the heretics." He commanded, as the destroyer engines roared in answer, the fleet surging forward like a tide of steel and fire spilling through the gap where Juxta's shield had been and descending upon the Cult's world like a storm long promised.
---
(Meanwhile, back on Granada, Mauriss's POV)
Raymond wasn't the only one surprised to not see Søron in action, for if there was one man who was even more impatient to see the great God arrive, it was Mauriss.
Like a child waiting for Christmas, Mauriss watched Raymond's fleet crawl closer and closer to Juxta, his entire body twitching with anticipation, lips splitting into a grin too wide to belong to someone sane.
"Come on, old man," he crooned, tilting his head at a sharp angle, as though speaking directly into the void between them. "Don't leave me waiting. Don't tell me the great Søron has grown too tired, too broken, too— feeble."
His tongue darted out, wetting his lips as though the very thought of seeing Søron fight again was a delicacy.
"Come and show me that legendary power of yours... Come show me the Timeless Assassin's techniques one more time."
He muttered, as he dragged two fingers down his cheek and licked them clean, tasting nothing, savoring everything, as his eyes rolled with pleasure at the storm of his own imagination.
Before him, Raymond's fleet advanced, closer and closer until it came within striking distance of Juxta's planetary barrier.
"Come on out, Soron! Come to papa—"
Mauriss muttered now, as he tilted his head to face the rain, before hanging his mouth open to take in the rainwater, only to then gargle and spit it back out.
*PTUI*
"Break it Raymond! Break the planetary shield and drag Soron out. I want to see how deep the wound went when Kaelith carved him with origin metal blades.
Does he limp? Does he falter? Or has he truly rotted to his core?"
Mauriss encouraged, as Raymond deployed the shield breakers right on cue.
"Yes, yes, find the note, sing it to pieces. He'll come anytime now— oh, he has to come now."
Mauriss felt his blood pressure rise, as he could almost not contain his excitement anymore.
*CRRRRRAACK*
The barrier splintered. Its glow shattering like brittle glass that rained into Juxta's skies. And still, Soron did not come.
Mauriss froze, his grin faltering for the briefest heartbeat. Then he began to clap—slow at first, then faster, harder, until his palms cracked with the force. "Bravo, Soron. Bravo! Too proud to defend your wretched pets? Or too weak to lift your arms? Which is it?"
He slammed his hands against the wet rock beneath him, laughing so hard his shoulders shook, saliva threading from his lips as he rocked back and forth.
"How long do you plan to hide like a rat? How long do you plan to make me wait?"
He asked, as his eyes flicked wildly between Juxta and Ixtal, pupils blown wide with mania.
He licked his rain-soaked fingers again, shuddering with a grotesque pleasure, as he kept muttering to himself like a prayer twisted inside out.
"Show me your scars, Soron. Show me how broken you really are. Or billions of your Cult followers will pay the cost in your stead—"
(More chapters in Buyers club for TMT)