"A traitor for ten thousand years? A fine achievement," Chen Ye sneered, seeing Rod only as a wretched renegade who had managed to survive against all odds. He should have been long dead, silenced by someone's hand.
Rod, however, seemed unfazed by Chen Ye's contempt, his gaze lost in the darkened skies of the Forged World, as though he were reliving the beauty of his distant homeworld.
"It seems I haven't aged much; I feel as young as any of you, both in spirit and in years."
"My participation in wars has been sparse; this journey to the Forged World was merely to settle an old debt."
Rod's voice drifted softly, his words lingering. Chen Ye had little patience for a traitor's lament and was even less inclined to be swayed by his feigned sentimentality.
A former Imperial Odestar Marine, one who had turned against his Empire, posed a constant threat. Such a being, through the ages, may have taken countless lives, their danger unmatched by even the deaths they wrought.
"I wish to die with dignity." Rod had long since resigned himself to his fate, and held no illusions about being spared.
They may have fought side-by-side in the arena, but that was only a matter of necessity, nothing more.
"Agreed," Chen Ye nodded.
Rod turned, casting a long look toward the demon at his side. He murmured to it in a language neither Chen Ye nor Yaon could understand.
The demon's reaction was wild, at first shaking its head furiously, then rising to bare its fangs and brandish its bone-blade at Chen Ye and Yaon.
Yaon and Chen Ye braced themselves, certain the demon was about to attack. Though Chen Ye was unarmed after discarding his brass axe in the arena, he was confident that, alongside Yaon, they could defeat this hellish creature.
Yet after a few more words from Rod, the demon grew calm and, with a whispered incantation, disappeared into the shadows.
"How did you do that?" Yaon asked, surprised at the demon's abrupt vanishing. He sensed Rod had used some special form of exorcism, one he'd like to learn.
"How I did it is no concern of yours, soulless one," Rod scoffed, reading Yaon's thoughts with ease. He had no regard for such as him.
With everything prepared, Rod stood and instinctively reached for his waist, only to remember that his weapons had been confiscated when the Oathbreakers captured him.
Left with no other option, he turned to Yaon. "Use your shoulder cannon. Make it quick."
Without a word, Yaon's cannon began to power up, and in a single heartbeat, a searing beam incinerated Rod.
Yaon felt nothing at Rod's death, knowing well that if the traitor had the chance, he would have killed both him and Chen Ye without hesitation.
The gathered captives felt a sudden release, as if they had finally been saved. After all, those who had once taken them captive were beings much like Rod, and some had feared this Angel of the Emperor and the mysterious warrior might strike a bargain with him and offer them as tribute.
Yaon signaled to the celestial engine and called everyone over. "It's time to leave. Gather around."
Much like in the arena before, a barrier formed around them, allowing the celestial engine to teleport them safely away.
...
**Within the Fortress**
Gray, Wicks, and Sewen were deep in discussion about an assault on the Forge.
"I don't see any strategic merit in attacking the engine foundries; the people there are nearly all dead, and any industrial infrastructure would likely have been destroyed by the enemy."
"The Forge holds value, but it pales in comparison to other territories we're currently targeting."
Sewen argued politely against Gray's suggestion to assault the engine foundry, glancing at Wicks for support.
Gray knew the reason for attacking the foundry was tenuous at best. It was only due to Yaon's insistence on it earlier that he had even brought it to Sewen.
"You're not obligated to join the assault," Gray replied flatly, "but we are proceeding; the ground forces are already prepared."
Sewen hesitated, reluctant to leave a negative impression with the Tyran commander. After some thought, he suggested a compromise. "How about I send…"
Gray lifted his hand to interrupt. "One moment. I have a communication."
Sewen nodded, waiting quietly. He turned to his old friend Wicks, only to see a disapproving eye roll, clearly conveying frustration at Sewen's reluctance to engage in the Forge assault.
Sewen, however, couldn't understand the significance of the foundry. Had it been guarding a cyclonic torpedo or holding a Custodian captive, he wouldn't have hesitated to dispatch his forces there.
"The assault on the foundry is canceled," Gray suddenly announced.
Now even more puzzled, Sewen wondered what had changed.
Gray had just received a report from Yaon, who confirmed the deaths of two high-ranking Oathbreakers and dismissed the need for an immediate attack on the foundry. He knew Yaon was often shrouded in mystery, but he was no fool; his actions always had sound reasoning.
"A prudent decision. There's no need to rush, after all. Victory is assured in this war," Sewen agreed.
Gray nodded in concurrence.
Sewen began to calculate the time frame for victory. "In about three months, we should have them subdued, though it's unlikely we'll be able to eradicate all enemy forces. The Forge is vast, and they could turn to guerrilla tactics…"
"There's no hurry," Gray replied.
With the safety of the Forge and Wicks now secure, the mission was complete. Even if the enemy continued their campaign for decades, they could never kill Wicks or capture the Forge.
Their next task was simple: fortify the Agripinaa system around the Forge World, and wait for the Tyran network to reestablish communication with the Celestial Engine and deliver a full report.
"When the link is restored…" Gray looked over at the stoic Wicks. "You'll finally be able to reach the Tyran system."
"That will be a day of great joy," Wicks replied fervently, "Praise to Omnissiah."