Dungeon from the Void - Book 5 - Chapter 6 - The First Shots (Patreon)

         The Ocean Between the Kingdom of the Fallen and the neutral nation of Wolfmoore

Alistair Nightshade frowns as he looks out over the ocean waters from the front of their nation’s capital flagship. But no matter how long he looks, the sight of a fleet of three dozen ships never leaves his vision, proving the insolence of the neutral nation.

They don’t seem to be attacking just yet, so this could possibly just be a show of force to get a better position after annexation.

His eyes narrow after that thought.

Or it could be preparations for an assault.

But Alistair can’t get a grasp on what could lead the neutral nation to believing they have a chance against the Kingdom of the Fallen. Because the Fallen are known to be one of the most powerful of the Demonic Races, far stronger than the Orcs the neutral nation is said to be allied with, or the Angelic Races alongside them.

Alistair flaps his black angelic wings once before turning his pitch black gaze towards the captain of the Royal Guard as he says, “Prepare three white flares. Let them know to send a delegate for negotiations.”

The King level cultivator and son to the Emperor crosses his arms with a look of arrogant indifference on his face while the Royal Guard all around him prepare the flares. Each of the guards are at the very least of Lord or Prince level cultivation, with their captain being of the same cultivation Tier as his charge.

Meanwhile the fleet made up of varying ships of different builds and filled with a variety of different species, both of Demonic and Angelic Races, slowly come to a halt with a safe distance between them.

Silence fills the air with the only sound being that of the roiling ocean waves.

Then three popping sounds echo from the flare gun, along with the sight of three balls of white light letting out sparks shooting up into the sky. But to Alistair’s surprise, the opposing forces don’t move even an inch at that. With his eyesight matching his Tier 7 prowess, all he sees them doing is frowning in what appears to be irritation.

But no one is moving forward.

Looks like they may very well be deciding to take the hard route.

Alistair’s eyes narrow at the sight of the opposing forces preparing their own flares, the man standing next to the one at the forefront of their flagship raising a wand into the air. Then two white flares shoot up into the air, making a feeling of rage spread across the fleet of nearly one hundred ships serving the Kingdom of the Fallen.

“Your Highness,” the leader of the Royal Guard says, a cold look on his face. “Orders?”

Alistair glares at the ships, specifically at the half elf he finds at the very front of the ship. A man who isn’t even a Mid-Knight, much less a Lord. A man who shouldn’t even be able to lick his boots.

And a man who has just requested both sides to send delegates and meet at the middle of the two forces. Requested for the Kingdom of the Fallen to lower themselves to the level of Humans and Orcs.

“We need to negotiate in order for the war to be considered legitimate by the neighboring nations,” Alistair mutters before a dark smirk mars his face. “But no one ever said that they had to have willingly come to the negotiations.”

The captain of the Royal Guard blinks once before nodding his head and declaring, “Understood, Your Highness.”

Then he vanishes from sight with the only one managing to keep up with his spatial movements being the Tier 7 son of the Emperor. But as Alistair is waiting for him to reappear with the leader of the neutral nation, a deep black explosion comes from the enemy flagship.

And after that, everything begins to move too fast for a vast majority of Alistair’s men to keep up with.

The captain of the Royal Guard returns with a scowl on his usually expressionless face as he says, “It would appear they have a spatial lock over their fleet.”

“The low-lives have spatial lock magic?” Alistair mutters, a deep frown replacing the indifference that had started painting his face. And at the sight of the many black explosions coming from the ships where he finds black balls being sent towards his fleet, he adds, “With an alarm attached to it to notify them of attempted breaches.”

Perhaps… these low-lives may be more than we had thought them to be.

He stares out at the enemy ships as the black balls reach the ships on the edges of their formations, only to dig straight into the enchantments with an explosion of pitch black void energy that immediately begins to eat through the mana in the enchantments like a hot knife through butter. But the void mana in the cannonballs – which Alistair quickly realizes are what the balls are – isn’t nearly enough to eat through the entire enchantment, leaving them at nearly four-fifths charge at each place hit by them.

“They have void weapons,” Alistair mutters, making the captain of the Royal Guard nod his head in agreement. “It looks like this journey will be even more worth it than we thought.”

If the dungeon is already capable of dealing with the nation and exchanging void weapons, then it must be even more intelligent than father thought.

His eyes narrow again as another wave of cannonballs are shot out towards them.

But this also means this may become an actual war instead of a mere light skirmish that we believed it to be. Although I highly doubt the dungeon core could’ve created enough weapons for them to use at just Tier 2, much less weapons that would fit higher Tier combatants. It just shouldn’t have the mana for it.

“Open fire,” Alistair declares with more than a little excitement in his voice.

In the end, war means profit and training. So this will be fun.

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