"Blyat! They're Rito Scouts!" Viskov, Pavo, Rosa and Kylia all yelled as they raced towards the Manor's garden.
"Boom! Boom! Boom!" Three sonic booms rang out in succession as the four Valors took off the ground. Pavo, being injured, could only go subsonic.
Less than half a kilometer away from the city walls the Valors arrived at the scene, traveling a kilometer within 3 seconds. 20 flying Rito scouts struggled to break through a flying force of 50 Rosian Lavovy's. The Rito, already flying, were sniping from above at the Lavovy's but suppressed by sheer numbers. However Lavovy's are not as good as Rito when it comes to flying in the air, poorer equipment and worse aim, causing a stalemate.
Kylia didn't hesitate. The explosion, the sight of the Rito scouts probing their defenses, it all solidified the urgency of the situation. She drew her blue saber, the familiar hum a comforting sound in the sudden chaos.
With a burst of speed that left a sonic boom in her wake, she ascended to 800 meters, her movements fluid and predatory. The Rito scouts, focused on the Rosian Lavovy, hadn't even registered her approach before she unleashed her attack.
"Eat my slash!"
Her saber crackled sparks as electromagnetic fields pulled in the air nearby. A beam of pure, concentrated plasma erupted from the blade, carving a path through the air.
The plasma slice, a searing rectangle of blue, white and red light a hundred meters long, ten meters wide, and a meter thick, ripped through the sky, impacting the Rito formation with brutal efficiency. At ten million degrees Celsius, it vaporized everything in its path. Feathers turned to ash, flesh incinerated, and metal weaponry melted into slag. The air shimmered with distortion as the surrounding atmosphere warped under the intense heat.
"Scram!"
Several Rito scouts were instantly obliterated, their screams cut short by the all-consuming flame. The rest scattered in panicked disarray, desperately trying to evade the impossible weapon. The Rosian Lavovy, witnessing the sheer destructive force, momentarily faltered in their own attack, stunned into silence.
Pavo, struggling to keep up at subsonic speeds, could only stare in disbelief. He hadn't seen Kylia in over three decades, and the girl he remembered, the sweet, slightly awkward little sister, was utterly unrecognizable. This was a force of nature, a warrior wielding power he couldn't even comprehend.
Rosa's jaw hung slightly open. She had sparred with Kylia eight years ago, and while even then Kylia was formidable, there was zero comparison to this. Eight years ago, Kylia might have been around her level of strength. Now she may be even comparable to their father.
Viskov, however, simply nodded, his expression stoic. He had witnessed Kylia's growing power a few years prior during his visit. He knew what she was capable of, but even he couldn't help but feel a surge of pride and a chilling reminder of the stakes they were facing.
Kylia, having broken the Rito formation with her initial strike, didn't relent. She moved like a whirlwind, her saber flashing, cutting down fleeing scouts with swift, merciless efficiency. Letting them escape to report back to their superiors would be a foolish endeavor.
Viskov, seeing the survivors scatter, moved with a speed that belied his size. He drew his own archaic-looking broadsword. It was slightly smaller than Kylia's saber, but just as deadly. Focusing his energy, he swung the blade in a wide arc. A smaller, but still devastating rectangular plasma slice erupted from the sword, a ten-meter slash of pure energy that incinerated another group of Rito as they tried to escape. He aimed strategically, cutting off escape routes and funneling them towards Rosa and Pavo.
Pavo, still slightly stunned, shook himself out of his stupor. He channeled hot air around his longsword. The blade burst into flames, a roaring inferno that danced in the wind. With a cry, he launched himself at the remaining scouts, his flaming sword leaving trails of fire in the air. He moved with a desperate ferocity, the grief of Pavo and his broken wing fueling his attacks. He slammed into one fleeing scout, the flaming blade searing through armor and flesh, leaving a charred husk in its wake.
Rosa, weaker than the others but no less determined, surged forward at a speed of Mach 1, her own sword glinting in the sunlight. She moved with surprising grace, weaving through the chaos and closing the distance between herself and the fleeing Rito. Her sword was a blur, striking with deadly precision. The Rito scouts, accustomed to battling slower, less agile opponents, were caught completely off guard by her speed.
Rosa's sword struck true, impaling one scout through the heart. She yanked it free, already moving to intercept another. The wind screamed past her face as she pursued another Rito trying to escape. With practiced ease, she slashed, severing a wing mid-flight. The Rito plummeted to the ground, screaming in agony.
The fleeing Rito, their wings beating furiously, were pathetic in their desperation. Their maximum speed of 65 km/h was laughably inadequate against the Valors, who could reach Mach 1, or 1235 km/h.
The battle was a massacre. The Rito scouts, outmatched and overwhelmed, were slaughtered. The sky, once clear, was now filled with the acrid smell of burning feathers and the chilling echoes of their dying cries. Kylia, Viskov, Pavo, and Rosa moved with brutal efficiency, a symphony of destruction orchestrated by the desperate need to survive.
Within minutes, the sky was clear. Within moments, the last of the scouts were dead, their bodies plummeting to the ground like discarded toys.
The dust settled, revealing a clear sky, albeit one tinged with the acrid scent of burnt feathers and incinerated flesh. Below, the field remained untouched, the pastoral scene a stark contrast to the aerial carnage that had just transpired 800 meters above. One by one, the four Valors descended, landing gracefully on the unblemished grass a short distance from the city walls.
Kylia touched down last, her blue saber humming softly as she deactivated the plasma field. She sheathed it with a precise snap. Her face, previously a mask of focused fury, was now etched with a grim determination. She looked around at the peaceful fields and then back towards the city walls.
"Well… what in the name of Hylia and everything beautiful was that!?"
Rosa, landing beside her, nodded grimly. Her face was pale but resolved. "The Lavovys were too preoccupied with drills and patrols further out. They never expected… this." She gestured to the empty sky, where the ghosts of the Rito scouts still seemed to linger.
"Lavovys!" Rosa commanded, her voice carrying with authority, an innate ability to command befitting the lineage of House Lavovy. They swooped down respectfully. "Effective immediately, I want daily patrol rotations around the entire perimeter. Maintain constant vigilance, not just on the outskirts, but within a five-kilometer radius of the city walls! Increase the frequency of reconnaissance flights. I want no blind spots. If you find any threats, I want to know about it."
The Rosian Lavovys, their faces etched with a mixture of shame and renewed determination, saluted in unison. "Understood, Rosa Soyuz!" They quickly took to the skies, their formations reforming with a sense of urgency that had been absent before.
Viskov surveyed the scene, his gaze lingering on the dissipating smoke and the distant flash of the Lavovy's wings as they reorganized. He let out a sigh, a brief moment of weariness crossing his usually impassive features.
"I have to leave," he announced, his voice a low rumble that cut through the relative calm. "I've been away from Viskov City for far too long. The Viskovian Army can't fortify themselves against the inevitable Hylian threat without me at the helm." He looked pointedly at Rosa. "Ensure New Rosa remains vigilant. This probing attack is only the beginning."
Pavo, leaning heavily on his longsword, nodded in agreement. The adrenaline of the battle was wearing off, replaced by the throbbing agony in his wing. "I must return east," he said, his voice strained with pain. "The Pavo/Zeleny army is shattered, a rabble retreating in disarray. They need leadership, a shield against the Hylian pursuit. I can't let them be slaughtered." He glanced at Kylia, a flicker of concern in his eyes. "Be careful, sister. This war is far from over."
Kylia, who had been silently assessing the landscape, turned towards her brothers. Her expression was resolute. "I, too, must depart. The Blue Army 2nd Brigade heading south are awaiting my command. We will meet again soon."
Viskov clapped Pavo on the shoulder, a rare display of affection. "Stay alive, both of you. We need you." He nodded towards Kylia, a ghost of a smile touched his lips.
He turned and began to stride away, his imposing figure growing smaller as he lifted off. Then with a sonic boom, he vanished, leaving only the faint scent of ozone in his wake.
Pavo, tucking his wounded wing, limped towards the east, his face grimly determined. Each stroke of his wings was an agony, but the thought of the retreating soldiers spurred him onward. He slowly faded away in the horizon.
Kylia sighed as she watched them go. With one last look at New Rosa City off in the distance she took flight with a sonic boom.
"The 2nd Brigade awaits their commander," she murmured to herself, her voice filled with unwavering determination. "And the Hylians… they will learn to fear the name of Kylia Soyuz!"