Azur Lane Iron Blood Ships Novels & Stories

The Fleet of the Corvus Republic lowered itself down to sensor range and hovered right above the much larger barge below. Up in the bridge, Rear Admiral Aurora commanded her gunners to fire, which they did with eager glee. The Raven’s Refuge’s broadside guns had all been faced downwards, and fired in near-unison. The resulting BOOM was deafening to anyone out on the island deck of the barge. Everyone else was otherwise blasted to pieces when the shells struck the surface.

Ahead was only open air and the lethal drop. THUD. THUD. THUD. From the skies above the cliff face, three massive imperial war-galleys descended through the clouds, their heavy iron cannons trained directly on our narrow ledge. Lady Lyra stood at the bow of the lead ship, holding a glowing black bow. She pulled the string back, aiming a heavy shadow-arrow straight at my chest. "End of the line, rogue," Lyra sneered. "Jump into the river, or get blown to pieces." Kaelen stepped in front of me, his eyes turning a dangerous, dark gold as he prepared to leap into the abyss with us in his arms.

In the high tower behind me, I heard Lyra’s voice echo down the stone steps. "Contact," the whole-board reader said. "Grid is active. Painting targets." Miles inland, hidden behind the mountains, Cord’s forty Iron Voices were loaded and locked. In the deep keep, three hundred Firewalls closed their eyes and braced for the end of the world. And in the trenches above the beach, Zane drew his heavy, straight iron sword, the Long Carrier standing at the front of a line of a thousand silent wolves. The mapmaker on the beach had smiled because he thought he was fighting beasts.

I was just glad that they didn’t cut her wings off. They marched us out of the airship, and we beheld the strangest of islands. The crimson tide washed against a beach of black iron. It was as if someone had formed it from pieces of discarded armor. There were iron trees with branches like blades, and iron shrubs that resembled barbed wire. There was also an old fellow in an apron pouring oil onto rusted metal flowers from a watering can. He saluted the soldiers as they passed.

​By late afternoon, the Australian mainland had completely vanished into the horizon. ​The Ironhouse sliced effortlessly through the deep blue expanse of the open ocean, surrounded by nothing but an endless sea and a rapidly darkening sky. A violent summer storm was rolling in fast from the east, heavy black clouds stacking against the horizon, sending swelling waves that made the massive yacht roll in slow, rhythmic tilts.

Huge, dark shadows blocked out the rising sun, plunging the entire valley into sudden twilight. Three massive imperial air-galleys descended slowly through the fog. They were not tactical trucks or small scout ships. They were giant, hovering war vessels made of reinforced black iron and polished silver, as wide as entire city blocks. Long black banners hung from their iron hulls, bearing the glowing crest of a silver wolf skull wearing an imperial crown. "The High Lycan Council..." I whispered, my throat tightening as my eyes went wide with sheer disbelief. "The Imperial Fleet," Malakai snarled, his eyes flashing a blazing, lethal red. He reached out, grabbed my arm, and pulled me firmly be