Zyro's heart shrunk, they have five hours to infiltrate into the island ground, and fail. He doesn't only hear a dozen wings, but hundreds or even more. Becoming louder as it draws closer. And at their current position, they're currently at utter disadvantage.
He glanced at his calm neighbor, clinging upside down. And shifted his vision to the island edge, which are far from near, and even if they reach its edge. What can two knights do against an entire army, airborne or not.
The dreadful sound got louder and louder. As he closed his eyes, feeling like the biggest loser in the two worlds. His grip had loosened its strength, only his stolid neighbor held him on. Zyro had never expected that he'll someday fear the sound of wings, it's so dreadful to the point it sounds like a rapid gunfire of war to a child's ear.
It got louder and closer, he could already hear it at his sides, front and everywhere. Then, it got to the point that it's all he could hear. A disturbing, chaotic flock of wings, mixed with what seems like voices from time to time. As he listened quietly, still shutting his eyes tight.
Waiting for any form of attack anywhere in his body, prepared for pain. Seconds past after another.
'Any second now'
But none came.
...
'Just get on with it, damn it!'
Zyro grew Inpatient of his death and decided to slowly open one eye, then the other, and frowned. What beheld in front of him filled him with dread and awe. In the dim light of the moon, winged humans were gliding under him, they wore armors made of leather and steel of ancient time, with spears or bow in hand. Everyone has outstanding wings of different colors. Brown, red, orange, yellow... Some are pure and the majority are mixed. They're all headed towards the roots as predicted, passing under him and completely ignoring his existence at all.
'So... This is the Gricks?'
As much as he likes to take a closer look at the terrifying winged warriors. The fact that they're after them still remains, and disturbingly, how could they not see them? They're just above them, even if they're shrouded in darkness that is paired with their black armor. The duo are not completely invisible.
Furthermore, if he remembered correctly. The Gricks had keen eyes.
Zyro looks up at his neighbor. who was still as a statue. The man's head bent up, staring straight at their destination at the edge of the island. Completely unperturbed by the rushing Gricks army, as though it doesn't concern him the slightest bit.
'Concealment? Huh, this is really one of the greatest prisons, it won't imprison anyone... Unless. They're monsters'
Shivers run down his spine, realizing the weakness of humanity compared to other races. The argon holding him was a force to be reckoned with, same goes for the Gricks under him. Only he, a vulnerable human trapped in between such powerful creatures hopelessly.
He felt... weak.
Minutes past, the Gricks gliding down had started to subside. With only a few descending from time to time. By now, they look like black figures falling to the abyss below. Joining the horde, as they wander into the land shrouded in clouds or the colossal roots far from them. They're like midnight flies searching every corner for their target.
After sometime, the four-armed knight began his move. Slower than the former, but still packed an amazing speed for someone who's upside down, while carrying a weight in one arm. Zyro grip had returned its strength, his previous fear gone, replaced anew. During this short time, he has developed many phobias that he doesn't even know exist.
After a thousand heartbeat, they reached the island edge. The man stops before the turning point, waiting for something, if they continue further, they'll be traveling a long vertical direction to reach the upper land. Exposing them directly in the pale-blue moon's light, and the enemy. Without the shrouding darkness to cover their armor, they'll likely be exposed. If the enemies are not blind, that is.
Zyro remains still, like a hanging deadman. A little used to the man's abrupt stops, not even questioning the act. Cause he already knew it'll be something bad. Or else why would he stop. By now, he could already feel his arm aching muscles. His exoskeleton support is not absolute to the point he won't have to use a single muscle. Added, the near drained battery limited its mechanical joints power, making him contribute force himself. Unfortunately, his reserve won't ascend anytime soon. While his constant use keeps decreasing what's left. Sooner or later, without charge, he'll be bearing the armor's full weight with a lifeless exoskeleton.
Zyro sighs internally, staring calmly at the sea of clouds, that actually, relatively look like a sea due to the moon's strange blue hue illuminating the clouds. Even so, Zyro was not surprised at all, heck, he wouldn't even be surprised if boats fly. His Earth's common sense had long extinguish after encountering the torturous cage of roots, his neighbor and the Gricks.
Another Grick descends, this one falling down straight. Disappearing through the clouds below, not even glancing at the two, that they're looking for. With that, the silence continues.
Zyro's hand was growing numb to its unchanged state for a long time. But compared to the man's task, his predicament was nothing. Just as he lost in thoughts, he suddenly noticed a change under him. The island shadow is growing, rather, pointy shadows were emerging from within. Continuously growing.
"The Gricks flaw is their pride, and their strength. They will do anything to remove the stain in their Honor." The man suddenly voiced.
Zyro found his words awkward and weird, still not used to this world manners of speech.
"...And we're the stain" Zyro replied, still looking down, as he makes sense of the emerging shapes. Then, he got a vague recognition as the shadows separated. Boats, it's the shadows of sailor ships, countless of them with different shapes and sizes.
He looked up, only to see the edge of the dark stone ceiling. And his cockroach-like neighbor, clinging upside down with five limbs attached.
"And that?" Zyro asks in low tone.
"The Gricks fleet..." The man looks at the vast sea of clouds painted in light-blue.
"Good thing the moon is blue" He added.
"Meaning?" Zyro was puzzled.
"Red for war, Blue moon means peace and pale for both, so it'll be a peaceful night."
Zyro pondered for a moment, recalling every event that happened tonight. And yes, it has been dreadful, hundreds of armor clad winged warriors came to find them. His battery reserve is draining. And now, floating ships emerge, that are probably the main army.
Still, it's relatively peaceful, they're alive, breathing and unfounded. And no blood was spilled or life taken, for now.
Zyro shifted his gaze below, noticing the ships shadows advance became still. One by one, they came to an abrupt halt, then, the shadows shrank as their shapes changed.
Zyro looks up again.
There, under the dark stone edge, wooden ships descend diagonal carried by their mass. Numerous wing shape sails dyed red grew at its sides like dragon wings, with long scapular at the back. And at the airships top, standing like a mighty shark's fins. Some were of the same designs, some unique. A few are massive giants, possessing a gigantic body of wood, moving slowly with numerous mighty sails atop. But most are lesser versions, more suited for speed than cargo. The smaller they are, the lesser the sails.
Zyro was deeply disturbed, his lingering common sense argue at the sight. Humans had developed flying aircraft with years of inventions and experimentations. And its mechanics are far from simple, especially using a light metal alloy to decrease its weight, paired with thrust engines for mobility. Formed with ingenious architecture design, balancing the overall weight. And strictly calculated internal programs for controls. But what's in front of him was a wooden boat, overgrown with wing sails, with a classic starring wheel serving as control. Yet still flying with ease, defying the laws of logic.
'These guys have it easy' Zyro had taken back his thoughts about this world advancement. Their use of wooden war ships are just too irrational if they have metal. Then again, it's not earth, who knows, maybe wood here is stronger than steel. But even so, for an aircraft to use a boat's body that is more suitable in aquatic terrain than aerial flight.
And what disturbs Zyro the most is the weapons.
Being a soldier, the analysis of danger treats once seen as an enemy is of at most importance. He expected to see unique and strange long range weapons. To his surprise, the ship's side doesn't even have cannons. There's only a tray of spears and arrows beside the passengers, some are winged and some are not, with bows or spears. Zyro was a little relieved, seeing a relatively normal human, without wings or armor. If he disregards the fact that all none winged humans aboard have varying colored hairs.
Zyro continues to observe the enemy's battle ships march down, ignoring their existence as it passes below them. The airships didn't possess any lights at all, yet maneuver with grace, like mighty ghastly ships in a lightless sea. Its passengers were deadly calm, searching the surroundings with sharp eyes. From time to time, they'll glance at the dou direction, only to notice nothing.
He looked at his neighbor, and whispered.
"The plan demands us to sneak at the island top to abduct a ride out here. But now, there are hundreds right below us."
Hearing those words, the four-armed knight turns his head almost at 360 angle, and stares at Zyro. Sending shivers down his spine. Silence hangs between them for a few moments.
Then... Time seems to have slowed down as Zyro's body suddenly turns light as a feather. No longer resisting gravities pull.
Even though he could still feel the man's tight grip around his hand.
He looked up, only to see his neighbor's unattached limbs in the stone above.
His eyes widened.
'You lunatic!'
They're falling.
Towards the fleet of enemy airships.