Chương 226: 37. Inferno at the Bottleneck 2

By the time we made it back, I couldn't tell whether the burning across my face was windburn, smoke, or fate slapping me repeatedly with the sole of its shoe. The blue dragon, reeking of char and residual lightning, climbed out of the Bottleneck and dove for Drake Tower. The night wind still screamed past my ears, but compared to the furnace we'd just left, even the wind felt almost polite. I looked back once more.

The stretch of sea at the Bottleneck no longer resembled a channel on any map — it looked like someone had pressed a glowing iron against the ocean and left a wound that refused to heal. The tower ships behind were still burning. The transports ahead were still burning. Wedged between them, an entire column of Yanxia warships sat unable to decide whether to push forward or fall back. Fire crawled along hulls, rigging, and chains; smoke rolled skyward in thick black columns. It wasn't victory.

It was a hand pressed against the enemy's throat, holding it in the fire long enough to make it cough. And right now, a cough was worth more than gold.

"Sit tight," Lei Lian said from ahead. Two words, tossed back without ceremony.

"I'd rather be sitting on a bed," I muttered, stuffing what remained of my soul back behind my ribs.

"One with four legs. On the ground. With a strict no-flying policy." She didn't answer. This woman had apparently traded "small talk" for "aerial judgment" and "tower demolition" at birth. In fairness, the latter two were considerably more useful right now. As the dragon swept past Drake Tower's outer ring, the observation lights flashed three times — the tower's way of asking if we were still in one piece.

Lei Lian raised a hand in answer, then bypassed the top entirely, curving along the tower's outside edge in an arc that made my head go briefly blank, before dropping hard onto the western platform. The moment my boots hit stone, I had a genuine urge to kiss the ground. I resisted. There were soldiers everywhere, and whatever I looked like right now — probably smoked meat pulled off a fork — I was still, technically, the ambassador of the Kingdom of Eckhaus.

Diplomatic dignity: maintained for as long as humanly possible. The platform was chaos, but organized chaos — men hauling relay plates, carrying ballista arms, stripping crystal lamps, moving blast-stones, everyone moving like they knew being one breath too slow meant someone else paid for it. Soldiers rushed in the moment we landed, taking the record board and the flag bundle from the dragon's flank. My knee nearly buckled the moment I swung my leg off the saddle.

Lei Lian caught my shoulder, steadying me like a sack of flour about to spill.

"Can you walk?"

"If you're asking whether I can walk with any remaining shred of dignity, the honest answer is no," I said, swallowing the taste of smoke.

"If you're only asking whether I can still stand in front of Her Highness, I'm probably not quite that far gone." She nodded once and turned away. Very much her style. No comfort, no praise, no acknowledgment of a job well done. Just confirmation that the asset was still operational. Clutching the empty bomb pouch, I followed her into the tower's command level.

The corridor streamed with withdrawing garrison troops, some carrying stripped lamps, some shouldering ballista parts, faces black with ash and sweat, eyes burning brighter than their exhaustion. These people weren't fleeing. They were retreating while personally dismantling everything they'd ever defended into pieces no one else could pick up. Ignicia stood in the center of the lower war room. Still behind the same long table covered in maps and marker boards, as if she'd never moved.

But I could tell at a glance she was thinner than when we'd left — not in build, but in that particular way a person gets when time and command have been carving away layers, leaving something sharper and less forgiving behind. She looked up. Her gaze went to Lei Lian first, then dropped to the empty bag in my arms, then settled.

"Report." Lei Lian didn't waste a syllable. Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.

"The Bottleneck's forward line is reforming." She stepped to the table, tapping several points on the map.

"Here, here, and here — main columns of tower ships. Several vanguard transports have pushed into the inner harbor mouth, but the fire-oil line has cut them off. They can't expand the landing yet." Ignicia listened without interrupting.

"Dragon-warlock flags confirmed across at least three columns," Lei Lian continued.

"Not decorative — full deployment. Their decks are fitted with anti-dragon lance racks, warding cloths, binding chains, and elevated heavy ballistae. If Drake Tower stays standing, their next move brings the tower and its surrounding airspace into their kill zone." I added, "Short version: they're not afraid of dragons. They're waiting for one to fly right into it." Lei Lian glanced at me. Close enough to agreement. Ignicia's finger tapped the table once. Light. Almost quiet.

Every breath in the room paused for that single beat.

"Strike results," she said. My turn.

"We hit the lead tower ship's command tower first — all six thunder-bombs expended," I said, tracing the positions on the map.

"The last two took out the second-deck munitions and fire-arrows. The fire spread along the chains and boarding planks to the ships nearby. They'd chained their hulls together too tightly — meant to hold formation, ended up handing us a very generous fuse." An officer nearby went pale.

"Chained hulls?"

"Correct," I nodded.

"More than one line. Like tying a bundle of firewood together and thoughtfully laying the fuse for us." Even Ignicia's eyes flashed with something briefly cold.

"After that, we cut the inner harbor mouth with fire oil," Lei Lian went on.

"The mid-Bottleneck through to the harbor approach is burning now. Forward transports are blocked, rear tower ships are jammed. They won't be pushing through anytime soon."

"How soon is 'soon'?" Ignicia asked. Lei Lian didn't answer right away. It wasn't a number you threw out carelessly. She glanced sideways, at me. I exhaled a breath still tasting of smoke, and forced myself to reassemble everything I'd catalogued from the air — the direction the fire was spreading, the density of the formations, the distance gained, the turning angles, the number of transports cut off, how many rear tower ships hadn't fully committed yet.

"If the fire keeps burning at this rate," I said slowly, "they'll need to suppress it, cut the chains, clear the gaps, and rebuild their formation from scratch. Fastest case — an hour. Slower, maybe more." I paused, then added:"But that's assuming they stay pinned in the Bottleneck. The moment they get their sightlines and elevation back, Drake Tower becomes their next target." The war room went silent. No one said then let's hold a little longer. No one said maybe we can still buy more time.

Because we'd already gone out and seen everything there was to see for them. Keeping Drake Tower standing meant a few more minutes of visibility, a few more signal flags, a few more breaths for the evacuation line. But every extra moment made the tower look more and more like a spear planted in the dark, just waiting for the enemy to yank it free and turn it around. Ignicia raised her head slowly.

Through the war room's high window, the fire at the Bottleneck was still visible — red enough to turn the cold gold of her eyes into something closer to metal on the verge of shattering.

"Last group on the north line?" she asked.

"Past the second fallback point, turning toward the inner city," came the immediate reply.

"South Street defense?"

"Folding into the west line. Two crossbow squads still not down."

"Tower-top observation?"

"Half evacuated. Last team's still calibrating signal lamps and distance boards." Lei Lian cut in before anyone else could.

"I'll bring the last group down myself. The heart pillar's blast-stones are already set. All we need now is the ignition sequence and the final withdrawal." Ignicia looked at her. She didn't answer right away. For a few breaths, the only sounds in the room were boots running outside, the clatter of gear, the distant rumble from the sea — and my own heartbeat, hammering loud enough that I couldn't tell if it was still from the flight, or from already knowing what came next.

Then Ignicia's gaze moved, slow and deliberate, from Lei Lian's face to the center of the map. To the mark labeled Drake Tower. Her voice, when it came, wasn't loud. It didn't need to be. It laid itself flat across every ear in the room like a blade.

"Enough." No one moved. She raised her eyes, her tone flatter, colder still.

"Close out the tower." The words landed and the air seemed to leave the room all at once. Lei Lian answered first.

"Yes." Ignicia gave no one room to catch their breath before the next commands came, fired off one after another like arrows loosed in sequence.

"Abandon all non-essential equipment inside. Relay plates get priority withdrawal. Positioning rings — smash them. Leave only the two outermost ballista positions to cover the final withdrawal, one quarter-hour limit. Once the last spotters are down, seal the tower doors immediately."

"North barricades — prepare early ignition, synchronized with the tower's detonation."

"Notify the last inner harbor transport crew — no more waiting. Drag out what can be dragged. Burn the rest."

"And—" Her gaze returned to Lei Lian. It wasn't the way you look at a subordinate. It was the way you look at a blade you trust completely, and know full well that once drawn, it has to draw blood.

"Ignition authority is yours," she said.

"When the moment comes, you don't need to ask." Lei Lian was silent a beat, then bowed her head.

"Understood." I stood there, the empty bomb pouch still in my hands, and noticed, all at once, how light it had become. Out at the Bottleneck, we'd pushed ourselves to the edge to buy the harbor a little more time. Now that time had truly been bought — but what it purchased wasn't rest. It was a cleaner, colder sentence. Drake Tower had to die. Ignicia turned. Her cloak lifted slightly in the lamplight and the draft, like a shadow of flame about to fall.

"Go, Lei Lian," she said.

"Close out the tower. Light it."