Ash held Bazel's skull before her, the cold eyes beneath her steel visor meeting the empty sockets of the skull.
"Humiliation and mockery? I've long since grown used to them," Bazel said coldly.
"No. I was merely stating a fact."
Ash shook her head. Her snake tail swayed, and amid the clashing of steel against the concrete road, she slowly descended from the carriage.
She moved forward, toward her kin. One by one, the Banshees followed behind her, marching toward the people of Blood Port as deafening cheers erupted from the crowd.
Ash straightened, raising the hand that held Bazel. The Banshee's towering body stretched to its full height, framed by steel armor, like a god walking among mortals.
The Banshees followed silently behind her, their armor producing deep, muffled clangs as they slithered forward. The mortal soldiers of the Expeditionary Force guarded both flanks, holding high Castel's emblem and the insignia of Empire Truth. Rifles hung from their backs, the fine rifling faintly visible within their dark muzzles.
The Banshees and soldiers proceeded down the streets. Wherever they went, the people cheered. The prince's Harbor Guard stood along both sides of the road, maintaining order for the parade.
This was Castel's most powerful moment. They had taken in refugees the Northern Territory had not dared to accept, resolved the calamity that had destroyed White Crow, defeated the allied forces of three dukes from the Four Northern Territories, and now paraded Bazel, the chief culprit, through the streets of Blood Port.
A shrill whistle sounded high above, shaking the earth as though it, too, were trembling. Bazel watched the shadow suddenly cast over the ground, then slowly raised his gaze toward the sky.
"Th-that... what is that...?"
"An airship. Castel's Skyveil Behemoth, the manifestation of my lord's will in the