Isakov cocks his rifle and points it at the demikin. His trigger finger squeezing the trigger. A hole on the demikin as it falls on the side. The Shatran Islands were like steps. Overgrown trees and sneaky creatures that have been hiding in the forest.

Isakov raises his hand and orders the flame-throwing men to burn the thick vegetation in a controlled manner while Aeka readies to extinguish the fire.

“Flame-throwers… I think they are calling them flamethrowers.”

“Why?” Milles asked.”

“Cause’ they throw fire? Are you dumb?”

“Makes sense.” Milles inserts a new bullet to the chamber of his rifle. His new leather boot stepped on the neck of the demikin. He squeezed the trigger and shot the demikin. “This is a waste of bullets. We should get some spears and kill them with it.”

“Agreed.” Isakov said. “But from what I heard. Us doing this seems to cause fear in the hearts of the enemies. At least that's what the scout say about this massacre.”

All of them are wearing beaked masks. With the beak full of herbs and that seems to prevent the smell from getting to them. They didn’t want to think about the fact that there’s a sprite living in their beaks to continuously freshen the mask and helm they are wearing.

Aeka, the elven-kin that was with them, raises her artes to eleven and extinguishes the fire that was started. On the base of the trees they found the burnt carcasses of the animals and the demikins. Their flesh melted together with the trees.

A common mistake one has with the elven-kin is their overt love of nature. But when it comes to war, the elven were as ruthless and pragmatic. As long as it isn’t their trees and their land. They don’t care to preserve the sanctity of the old trees. Aeka herself believed that as long as they don’t salt the land. What was burnt could be healed. And the land is stronger and nature itself will fix the land.

Isakov, the one leading the team, has been acutely aware of the purpose of the fleet. To test the effective might of the fleet and its ability to coordinate. To test out weapons and engage in new practices while constantly making a checklist of where they can improve. In other words, they were making use of this campaign to see if the fleet could be effective. Land and air and then the armored divisions of the fleet.

The treants were constructs that were superior to the iron they could make. Even Datu, the one forming their plates, had said that it would take years for them to imitate what the Treants could do. Even the Vitae remains a mystery for them.

The tree crawlers that were treants that are on their four limbs are made to do transport. The armored ones are reinforced with gunners who could shoot 180 degrees on each side with a swivel cannon on the top to destroy fortifications.

The most dangerous of the current Treants were the ones that looked like knights of old that stood around ten to twelve feet tall. Armed with gatling guns on both forearms and a cannon on its shoulder.

While the sky ships that carried bombs became the kings of combat. Among the many inventions and war machines that the fleet had made. The skyship that they sailed on the sky was the most effective.

The massive progress of the fleet couldn’t be done without the aid of the skyships whose main purpose is to soften up the targets for the ground infantry and the armored Treants to destroy.

So they had to keep the skyship safe all the time while they restocked their bombs. The demikin understood that at least. That’s the reason why they were hunting down the skyships. Hence why they were not executing the demikins around the landing point of the outpost established recently by the forwarding troops. The fleet believed that they are getting close to where the main of the Demikins are. Which also means that they might be able to encounter a creature that has the ability to even triumph against their weapons if they aren’t careful.

Yes, the power of their guns and war machines could triumph over the foes that didn’t have the same weapons as them. But the power of the blood, the words of power and the Artes is a threat that must not be taken lightly.

Aeka likes to believe that among these unintelligent creatures is a King that rules. A king that commands the tribe and guides it. But this king wasn’t found on the many islands or on the coral habitats and underground. See, the fleet didn’t immediately land on the biggest island of the Shatran Region, they started from the small islands, conquering them, burning them, until they encircled the main island. Most of the fleet has surrounded the island on all sides and with a colored smoke and the help of the Elven. They could hammer down precisely on where the enemy is and leave nothing but smoke.

The Tundrae, the jagged island that they found had become their place of operation and from what they have heard from the elven-kin relaying the messages through their sprites. They were able to ‘cleanse’ the whole island of any non-human and non-elven creature. Leaving only the Lighthouse Fleet to occupy the island. There might be some creatures that are roaming around, but they have massacred them for years since they arrived according to the scholars who were making a rough guess. . An average of five thousand demikins were killed every day for three years. Which means that about now they should have killed six million creatures in 3 years. It was a staggering number that could be questioned since the scholars weren’t counting the seakin creatures that attacked them. They couldn’t be bothered to count them all underwater so it was nothing more than their minimum guess.

With the area clear, their bombs restocked. They flew their skyship back to the barge that was pulled by the Grand-Galleon of Milostiv where there were only two Light Treants carrying enlarged rifles and bayonets. The bolt-action rifles were armed with bullets that had the same power as a cannon. These lighter-looking Treants weren’t armored, but they were armed enough to intercept any giants that might approach the ship. Then again, with the Lady-Captain of the Milostiv on constant watch. He doubts that any creature could avoid detection while the Lady Eletha of Roan is actively seeking them out.

The skyship landed on the barge. The rest of the skyships that came home landed on the floating barges that other ships pulled and anchored. Waiting for them, as usual, was the Doctor of Milostiv, checking out the injured with a steady hand as they stitched and cauterized their wounds.

Isakov could see that some have returned with scratches. The others were unfortunate, a spear on the throat, and multiple stab wounds on their chest. Although the fleet can overwhelm them, casualties are going to happen if they fight in terrain that they have no idea how to navigate. He couldn’t complain however. The amount they killed compared to the people that got killed was laughable. If anything, it can be argued that they had minimum casualties. But that doesn’t stop the pain. Seeing their lover, family, and friend die because of this campaign. As they weep and howl, Isakov wonders again if this was the right choice to be made.

He continued walking and found the commanding officer. They reported what happened to them, and were ordered to take a rest near the Doctor’s tent where they were given by the cook to eat a bowl of soup with chunks of meat on it.

The taste was glorious, but despite the horrors they saw. It didn’t affect their appetite. Yes, they have seen such horrors made by themselves, but that doesn’t stop their aching stomach.

He felt cruel. Maybe a bit calloused as well. But everyone else on the floating barge felt the same it seems. No one cared about the butchery they have done to the demikins. Was it because they were not humans? Is that it?

He finished his bowl and rested. His eyes on the now blue skies. When he was a child, he could remember the dimness of the sky. Even now, he wondered how a sky could be so blue. He had asked the Doctor, and the Doctor explained that it was the sun who did it. It’s bright light clearing the clouds, leaving only this blue. But he was convinced there was more to it. Though, they are not ignorant enough to think the rain storms wouldn’t go away. Even back when the sky was dim, the rain still happened. He enjoyed those rains more than anything.

And what was he now? A soldier shooting the creatures that couldn’t even back. Granted they’d stab him if they give them a chance, it’s a bit unsettling.

The skyship needed tending and they wouldn’t allow any mistake. At least Aeka, who had secondary control of the skyship wouldn’t allow any hurt to come to the sprite acting as its heart.

Isakov approached the Doctor checking the medicine crates. The Doctor didn’t wear his mask. Only this cloth mask around his face and coat that was lined by Auntie Mana. They were weird. He couldn’t exactly figure out whether they were lovers or friends. But they were just comfortable talking to one another and in a way. It seems like they had all the time in the world. It was hard to ask, no one wanted to ask -- easily assuming what they seem to be.

“Isakov, it seems like you’re done with your duties for now.” Doctor Gabrio said, his eyes on the medicine.

“We’ve done our duties.”

The Doctor stole a glance. “Horrible isn’t it?”

Isakov looked up. “It is. I just don't understand the reason for this barbarism. We are better than this.”

“I agree. But you must understand that in order to survive. We need to test our weapons in the field and make sure that they are viable. We have made good progress, despite seeing no mass of land for years. We do encounter drowned mountains and places that are rich with resources, but it’s not everyday we can find enough target practices to test what we have made to defend our Fleet.”

“There must be more to it.”

“There is. We want to tell them this. It’s a double-edged sword. We are telling them that we have mighty arms and armaments and we will rain down bombs and throw flames at them. They might be watching us the moment we got here and so this is nothing more than a declaration. The Reconnoiter Company lives, the sons and daughters of Aon live, and the Lighthouse Fleet remains a beacon of those who fought in the dark. We are not tired sheep ready to be slaughtered, but are Strugglers who survived their darkness. It is cruel. But we must be predators instead of prey.”

“Aren’t we showing off? What if they are studying us?”

“It’s a risk we must take. It might deter them for a bit. Consider their options and give us time to even prepare for more guns to kill them.”

Isakov flinched. The Doctor was always kind, strict sometimes, but nevertheless kind. Though there are times where he’d see the righteous fury burning in his eyes.

“I just don’t like risking the lives of our kin.”

The fury in the Doctor faded. He looked sadly at the medicines and collected himself. The professional mask was worn again. What was the true face of the Doctor?

“I think it’s much more than being a predator or buying time.” the Doctor said. “I think many of the kin want to be the lighthouse. A light in the dark that says ‘We are still here’. That not all is lost and we remain to struggle against the darkness.”

“Yes… we are still here.”

That, Isakov can understand.