CHAPTER 72
Antoine glares fiercely at the plethora of winged foes. His chest heaves with hatred at the sight of so many of the cursed dragons and their pitiful human riders. Finally, the vampires' time has come, once and for all.
Many of his new blood children are lost to the geysers of flame being spewed by the damnable serpents. No matter, they are serving their purpose. Every dragon and rider fallen is a major victory for his plight.
Finally, the vampires make headway, forcing their enemy to retreat to the skies.
It is time for Raven to do her part, Antoine thinks to himself as a half smirk forms on his lips. I hope her birds are here...
The first wave of Roc screech with fury as they dive bomb Richard's and Xavier's sky patrol. Many Dragonmen release their dragons' reins and cover their faces as the giant avian swoop upon them, snatching them from their saddles.
"Great Pyronius!" yells Richard, as he witnesses many of his men disappearing into the snow blinding night.
The fighting dragons that have lost their riders to the giant Roc instantly are in pursuit of the thieves with their precious cargo. Shrieking in frustration, the mighty dragons dare not scorch the immense birds for fear of searing their life partners in the process.
Just when Richard didn't think things could get worse, dozens of snowy owls are upon more of his men, pecking and tearing fiercely at their faces. Richard can hear dragons roaring in pain as new birds appear out of the thick white powder congesting the skies and are already at work thrashing terrible beaks against the thin membranous flesh of dragon wings.
Bjorgon! We are under attack up here! There is near zero visibility and birds are appearing with no warning.
Xavier, we are on approach. The grounds are flooded with vampires. We will assist you in the skies with the birds!
Soon, Valkyr's forces from the ground catch up with the chaos above. The winds howl as the flurries do their best to blind the fighting forces. Still, Bjorgon is able to make out another formation of birds approaching and relays the message to Valkyr.
"Okay! I trust your sight. Let's head those bastards off at the pass" , yells Valkyr.
Bjorgon relays the message to all other wing commanders and soon the V-formations have formed, an enormous spearhead aimed at the advancing birds.
Just before collision, the dragons synchronize a mass flaming, incinerating wave after wave of gulls and albatross under Raven's control. The coastal and sea birds are not swift enough to maneuver out of harm's way, and the smell of their roasting bodies soon wafts back to Valkyr's wing.
Cheers resound amongst the ranks of dragons and riders as they soon find themselves through the last of the scavenger and fishing avian. Little casualties can be discerned among Valkyr's own ranks.
"Finally! A victory!" yells Valkyr as he thrusts a gloved fist in the air.
Valkyr, Xavier is reporting heavy losses on their part. We should fly above them to ascertain the best way to assist.
"Agreed!" bellows Valkyr and yanks on Bjorgon's reins, signaling to ascend.
The message passes to each of the burgundy wing leaders and soon Highland Den's air force is mounting a steep climb into the upper atmosphere.
"There!" Valkyr points and simultaneously shares his vision with Bjorgon. As they reach the tops of the clouds and breech their ceilings, the winds die down and the frozen precipitation ceases. Phossphos, the eerie green moon is once again visible and provides illumination to the scene. Black dots are starting to enter the clouds from above and are clearly outlined in the billowy white features.
"Crows!" Let's get 'em!" Valkyr orders. The wings form up once again as the dragons are soon in pursuit of the black birds streaming back down into the obscuring mist.
Hot on the wing feathers of their adversaries, the fighting dragons and riders guesstimate the precise location of the crows in the thick winter clouds. Fountains of flame sizzle and dissipate the suspended water back into its invisible vapor form. The frightened caws of the black birds reaches a heightened crescendo as the engulfing fires roast the feathered flesh to a crispy fillet.
"Don't let up! We've got them on the run!" Valkyr bellows encouragingly.
Many dying avian abound as the fiery breath of dragons obliterate the ranks of the possessed birds. Fireballs of roasting crows plummet through the baseline of the clouds, contrasting sharply with the snow flurries being produced. Finally, the dragons break through the heavy shroud and into the violent weather below.