Page 189 of Scorching the Alien Empire
Pressed from both sides, the Scythian forces break, scattering like grains of sand in a storm. The allied fleet surges after them, cutting down the retreating enemy with ruthless precision. The system becomes a graveyard of metal.
And then—silence.
Not the absence of sound, but the absence of something else. The garbled, insidious static that once infected the comms is gone. The subconscious slither of ice that coiled around my thoughts—gone. The weight of mountains lifts from my shoulders.
This battle—the war for our futures—once impossible, is now a blazing victory.
Elation surges in my chest, echoed by thousands of Klendathians through the warvisor’s mental link. All that remains is the cleansing of Argon-Six. With my Berserkers andRavager’s Ruinin support, it will fall quickly.
But my gaze shifts to the sleeping form of Princesa.
Her head is tilted, golden hair splayed against the throne, her breathing slow and steady. Atop her shoulder rests the bloated uselesscyloillar,almost ruining the sight.
Clever. Beautiful. Dangerous.
Before the battle she sought to usurp my position. Using her sermons to twist my warriors against my command. She thinks meweak—that onlyshepossesses the strength to follow Arawnoth’s teachings.
But she is mistaken.
I am strength. I am his molten hand.
“Drexios,” I growl, lowering the ship into the poisonous obsidian clouds of Argon-Six. “Prepare the Ravager’s Berserkers. You will lead them. Remind our brethren why weare the strongest warband. From theRuinI will destroy the Dreadforges.”
“Aye, aye, War Chief,” Drexios sneers, pivoting on his heel like a thrown dagger, his half-cloak snapping behind him. “Time to spill. Time to kill.”
“Drexios.” This time, I send my voice directly through the warvisor—thought-to-thought, sharp and hard as arcweave.
“The ash-smeared Berserkers. Send them where the fighting’s fiercest.”
He stiffens, pausing as if he’s walked into Princesa’s barrier. Then, his answering thought slithers back to me, laced with dark mirth. “Let them be reborn in strength, War Chief.”
“Come on, you cunts.” Drexios turns to the warriors lining the walls—those who dared disobey my orders in her name. He jerks his chin toward the viewport. “We’ve got some trash to scrap.”
And I have a war to finish.
Chapter 36
Alexandra
Pyre
Theskyweepsashover the zombified corpse of this planet—Argon-Six.
This.This is what they were all fighting over? These Nib aliens and the murder-bots bashing each other over the head for a slag heap that looks like a sweatshop owner’s fever dream—after a thousand volcanoes and earthquakes threw a rave.
I mean, to be honest, I kind oflikeit. Reminds me of Arawnoth’s world of flames. The place Imiss most. The place Dracoth’s not-so-little performance issue ripped away from me. But whatever. Today’s not for moping—it’s for celebrating. Well. Besides the funerals.
Time to show the bone-through-the-noses who the real boss is around here.
Yep. Soon, I’ll crush Krogoth Cringe-Eyes and his wife, Bitch Brick, and ascend as queen of everything—ruling beside the too-cute Divine Cherub Todd and my red taxi and bond juice box, Dracoth.
Images flicker across my mind: Krogoth’s swirling maelstroms tearing apart murder-bot hordes like old receipts.
Shivers prickle down my back. No one can stop me now—not even this so-called High Chieftain, right?
Please.
I’m blessed bytwoGods—Divine Mother Aenarael and Father Arawnoth. I’m more powerful than he could ever be. But just to be sure, I’ll take him by surprise, squashing him into red jelly before he can summon a single disco-ball of cringe.
