The first streaks of orange slowly spread out across the skies as the sun slowly peeked out. For many, dawn was the time of a new beginning, the start of a new day and the light that drove away the cold and darkness. Yet, for some, dawn spelt another meaning for them as frantic reports came flooding into the bridge of the Iron Regent.

Observers nervously scanning the horizon with their far seeing devices spotted the dark crimson dots glowing under the orange rays of dawn. Reports were instantly sent down to the runners and speaking trumpets and like an awakening beast, information flowed and Sky General Bundberg and his command staff were able to piece together the situation of their surroundings.

"Nineteen ships failed to remain in formation," A senior staff officer reported. "19th Fleet has only twenty seven ships reporting in."

"H- half gone?" Crown Prince Najja appeared at the hatch. He heard the report just as he entered the bridge and he waved away his servants fussing over him. "W- What do we do now?"

Seeing the Crown Prince enter, Sky General Bundberg and the rest of the bridge bowed and saluted. He noticed the puffy and dark eye circles around the Crown Prince's eyes and was certain that the Crown Prince did not manage to catch any rest. Unlike the Crown Prince, the Third Prince standing over the map table seemed fresh as he listened attentively to the reports being given.

"Your highness, we will continue heading to Mortling's Hold as planned," Sky General Bundberg simply replied. "We shall be arriving soon."

"Has the enemy discovered us?" Crown Prince Najja's mood improved on hearing that they will reach Mortling's Hold soon. "We escaped them, yes?"

A veil of silence descended upon the staff officers as they avoided the Crown Prince's eyes. In the end, Prince Herod sighed and he said, "They are massing just a turn of the sand glass away."

"W- What?" Prince Najja felt a chill go down his spine. "H- How many?"

"Too many," Sky General Bundberg replied. "Five fleets at least."

"W- What do we do now?" Prince Najja quickly asked. "W- We need to fall back!"

"And Mortling's Hold is where we will fall back to," Prince Herod said with hint of mockery. "What are you so afraid of? Death?"

"Y- You!" Prince Najja's already pale expression had turned flushed as anger replaced his fear. "T- This is not about f- fear! The fleet is already depleted! We need to find another place for supplies and recover!"

"And allow Mortling's Hold to die like Hasta Castle?" Prince Herod shook his head. "Than after we recover where do we retreat next? To the Iron Palace?"

"Your Highnesses," Sky General Bundberg stepped in. "I will arrange for a courier ship to bring both Your Highnesses to safety."

"I will stay," Prince Herod replied. "You need a competent commander to help command the troops."

Sky General Bundberg nodded before he turned to the Crown Prince who had range of emotions on his face and said, "Your Highness, once we arrive at Mortling's Hold, a courier ship will take you back to Lord Sincia."

"I- I see," Prince Najja gave a nod. "I shall be in my room! Inform me once the courier ship is ready!"

With that sentence, Prince Najja cast one last look at his brother whose attention was back to the map and he stormed off back to his cabin. Once the Crown Prince was gone, the reports started again and the command staff continued their work again.

-----

The Old World, Iron Kingdom, Hasta County, The Old Ugly

"Contact Group Alpha bearing zero seven zero!" The sensor officer called out. "Distance, two fifty and closing."

"Sir, are we engaging?" Trism asked as he frowned over the sensor officer's shoulders. "We could evade them."

"Keep her on course, XO," Captain Blake replied. His attention fixed between the magic compass and the map of the local region.

Trism gave a shrug as he turned to the bridge crew and ordered, "Set condition red throughout the ship!"

They had spotted the large group of contacts on the radar more than an hour ago that was in the path of their way and designated that group of contacts as Group Alpha. Without any outsiders onboard the Old Ugly, they could fully utilized their superior technology to the fullest.

The siren went off, the wailing and screeching designed to awaken one even in their deepest sleep. Crew members donning protective gear, helmets and parachutes, rushed off to their battle stations. Hidden weapons were cranked out into the open as armor plating folded away to review cannon turrets.

Ammunition was carried out by runners from the bunkers to the mounted 20 mm platforms on the open decks. The 20 mm platforms were hidden in plain sight, disguised as cranes and equipment. Now those disguises were moved away and the weapon mounts exposed. Gun crews scrambled over the weapons doing another round of checks to ensure the weapons were working and within minutes, the Old Ugly was fully ready for combat.

Below decks, Dr. Sharon headed the medical team of the Old Ugly. Helped by Professor Hamlot and the medics from the Marine contingent who were drafted to her command. They quickly enlarged the med bay by removing the partitions of the cabins next to the med bay while medical supplies and stretchers were stacked on one side, ready for use at any emergency.

Magister Thorn ran the small crew of mage techs onboard the ship. He stood over the core of the magical barrier with a couple of chests filled to the brim with mana stones, readied to be used to replace any depleted crystals that power the ship's magical barriers.

Down in the engine and boiler rooms, two dwarvans yelled over the dim of heavy metal music and sounds of heavy machine and steam. The two dwarvans were Copperstone and Hammerfall, both ex Lords of the Cartel, who in the end decided to stick around with the Un An, as they both got captivated by the smell of machine oil and the beauty of well running parts.

The goblins normally hidden out of sight, ran and maintained all the machinery and equipment onboard the Old Ugly. The two dwarvans constantly got into arguments with the goblins soon accepted the goblins' superior training and knowledge and they fell into line with the goblins declaring victory.

"Captain, the ship is combat ready," Trism reported, just as two heavily armed Orcs in Marine uniforms and armor came in and took up positions by the entry hatch. "All departments reporting green."

"Time to engagement?" Blake asked as he finally set the magic compass down and walked over to the front of the bridge, staring out of the viewports.

"Group Alpha will come into our maximum engagement range for the main guns in T minus... twenty," Trism replied as he checked his watch. "Thirty minutes to be in full optimal engagement range of all weapons."

Blake nodded, "Hold the weapons for now until we get positive ID on Group Alpha. Also... set a course parallel to Group Alpha... I want to check if the compass points in their direction... If so, we might need to identify if... the Princess is onboard anyone of those ships!"

"Yes, sir," Trism replied before he gave out another series of commands to the bridge while Blake kept his eye on the clock as the distance between the Old Ugly and Group Alpha shortened.

-----

"Lord Bishop!" The aide saluted as he handed over a message slip. "The judgement sees you!"

The Lord Bishop, commander of the 84th Righteous Fleet of Ramuh, took the message and read it twice before he lazily ordered. "Send a squadron to capture that lawless ship."

"At once, Lord Bishop!" The aide bowed and hurried off, passing the command down while the Lord Bishop returned to his praying. Thick coils of incense floated up from burners set around the raised platform in the command altar. The Lord Bishop himself knelt on a cushion, facing a man sized statue of Ramuh and he closed his eyes as he prayed, both his hand clutching a string of prayer beads.

Six Rector class light cruisers slowly broke formation from the 84th and headed straight for a tiny dot in the skies, the crew happy to be doing something rather than remaining in the rear lines escorting the ground forces.

-----

Blake narrowed his eyes as he brought the magic compass to his eye level. "The needles don't seem to be pointing in particular to any ships in that fleet..."

"Captain, are we maintaining our course change?" Trism asked at the side.

"No, return to over original course," Blake sighed as he put down the compass. "Besides, some unwanted guests are headed our way. We need to show them some courtesy..."

"Aye, aye!" Trism grinned bloodthirsty, eager for some action. "Weapons! You heard the Captain!"

"Aye!" The Weapons Officer replied before he ordered his gun teams. "All mains, fire!"

Six gun barrels sticking out from the hull of the Old Ugly roared and the ship shuddered slightly despite the dampened recoil mechanisms of the 88 mm main guns. The three unarmored main gun turrets were installed in one layer of the deck that when the side concealment hulls were up, looked like a sort of flight deck onboard a spaceship.

The distance and flat trajectory of the high velocity shells meant the cannon barrels need not be fired upwards at an angle. It took less than four seconds for the shells to travel 4 km to their targets. Out of the six shells, only four hit the leading target, while two shells, over or undershot their target. The unsuspecting Rector class light cruiser did not even have its magical barriers up and despite having a 200 mm thick wood and metal laminate belt armor that could provide more than adequate protection against steam cannon projectiles up to 10 stone heavy.

But unfortunately, the 9 kg High Explosive 88 mm shells made by the UN Haven Armament Works were designed to punch through 80 mm thick rolled homogeneous armor at a thirty degree angle penetration from a range of five thousand meters and the ships of the Protectorate have neither the technology nor angled armor.

The ignition runes crumpled upon impact but not before smashing through two thirds of the wood and laminate airship armor from sheer velocity and mass before exploding. The force of four massive explosions, capable of levelling bunkers smashed the lead Protectorate airship off the skies as if an almighty invisible hand slapped it downwards.

One moment, the six ships were flying through the skies and suddenly loud thunderous booms were heard and a massive ball of black clouds appeared right at the lead ship's position. The other five ships' captains were shocked and confused, their confusion further heightened as they spotted the falling remains of the leading ship.

By the time the captains of the remaining five ships could respond to the strange events, another ship went up similarly to the first and that was then, they realized that they were under attack. The ships shattered, causing the third volley to miss. The HE shells announcing their end with explosions that kicked dirt and smoke hundreds of meters into the air.

"Watch your fire!" Trism roared at the Weapons Officer. "We are engaging well within optimal ranges for the guns!"

"Yes sir!" The red faced Weapons Officer bent over his station and berated his gun teams for their accuracy.

Blake sat quietly as he watched the action in his chair, his thoughts unclear. Trism sneaked a glance at his Captain before he turned forward and added, "And keep the collateral damages down!"

-----

The string suddenly broke and the black prayer beads slipped through the hands of the kneeling Lord Bishop as his eyes snapped open in surprise. The black prayer beads bounced loudly on the floor while the Lord Bishop stared at the bouncing beads without moving.

A deep sense of unease suddenly enfolded his heart and he looked up at the statue of Ramuh and mumbled softly, "Is Judgement finally here?"