Jack's hoverbike zoomed at its top speed. Covering the distance between the train wreckage and Mirebarrow in very high speed.
The hum of its engine was a loud roar against the rush of wind. He reached the town's outer gate within an hour. An hour faster than the predicted time.
Mirebarrow Town. The structures was rising from the plains like weathered teeth. A lone guard, bundled in a thick coat, stepped out of the check point. A carbine was slung across his chest.
"Hold there! State your business!" The guard shouted. His voice was rough against the wind.
Jack didn't slow much. He brought the hoverbike to a controlled drift. Stopping just shy away from the guard.
"Train derailment." He reported. "And demonic infestation. Urgent need for the mayor. Nick Glaiver's father, I believe." He held up the pocket watch. Glinting dully in the weak sunlight.
The guard's eyes widened, recognizing the carved logo in the heirloom. Security protocols dissolved.
"Right this way, sir! The mayor's townhall is straight ahead. The largest building with the clock tower." He gestured wildly. Opening the portal gate without another word.
Jack nodded curtly. The thrum of the hoverbike was quickening. He navigated the quiet, steam-infused streets of Mirebarrow with ruthless efficiency.
The town was standard Industrial Revolution fare. Brick buildings. Cobbled streets. The occasional hiss of steam from a pipe. He quickly found the townhall. A solid, two-story structure. And dismounted.
He stepped inside. A harried-looking clerk looked up from a mountain of papers. Adjusting spectacles on his nose. "Can I help you, sir?"
"Jack Night. Urgent matter. Train derailment and demonic infestation. News from Nick Glaiver. Need to see the mayor. Now." Jack's voice was flat and serious. Devoid of pleasantries. He placed Nick's pocket watch on the counter.
The clerk picked it up. Examined the intricate engravings. And a flicker of recognition crossed his face. He scrambled to his feet. "Right away, sir! The mayor is expecting… well, he wasn't expecting this, but come this way!"
He was ushered into a spacious office. Mayor Glaiver was a man with broad shoulders and a perpetually worried frown. He looked up from his desk. He was mid-sentence, dictating to another clerk.
"Mayor Glaiver?" Jack stated. Cutting off the dictation. He presented the watch again. "Your son sent me. There's been a train derailment incident. And attacks of demonic cockroach-men. Scores of them. There was a large number of victims. Survivors are holding out. But they need help, quickly."
The mayor's eyes fixated on the watch. His face paled. "Nick… he's alright?" His voice was a strained whisper.
"He's alive. For now. We've cleared the first wave of attacks. But there might be another wave. They can't last forever against these things." Jack's tone was blunt. Cutting through any potential emotional detours. He was here for action. Not comfort.
Mayor Glaiver slammed a fist on his desk. The worry momentarily replaced by resolve. "Right. This is an outrage! Demonic incursions this close to Mirebarrow… Unthinkable!"
He made quick instruction to the clerks. "Send out the emergency bells! Muster the town guard! Alert the medical teams! And find Sir Garath Shellarrow. Tell him I need him here, immediately!"
Within minutes, the sleepy hum of Mirebarrow was awakened. Replaced by the sharp clang of alarm bells and the hurried shouting of orders. Jack watched. A grim satisfaction in his chest. Bureaucracy, for once, had been bypassed by pure, unadulterated paternal fear.
A tall, broad-shouldered man entered the office. Clad in finely carved leather armor. A long staff resting against his arm. Jack's [Eyes of Judgement] quickly informed him about his identity... Sir Garath Shellarrow. A transcendent guardian of Mirebarrow Town.
Sir Shellarrow's gaze was sharp. Intelligent. But it carried a hint of ancient power. He had a strong jawline and eyes that seemed to crackle with an inner light.
"Mayor, you sent for me?" Sir Shellarrow's voice was deep. Resonant.
"Uncle! This man, Jack Night, brings dire news. A train derailment and demonic cockroach-men. Nick is there. He needs your aid." Mayor Glaiver gestured to Jack.
Sir Shellarrow turned to Jack. Assessing him with a professional eye. "Demons, you say? What are the specifics?"
Jack gave a brief, fact-filled account of the situation. The horde size they defeated. The nature of the demons. The five transcendent individuals holding the line. He omitted his own powers. Focusing on the objective facts.
Sir Shellarrow nodded. His expression was grim. "Very well. Mayor, organize the rescue efforts. I'll depart with this gentleman immediately. Time is of the essence if Nick and the others are in peril."
Without waiting for the reply, he turned. Quickly striding out of the office.
Jack followed him out. Sir Shellarrow didn't bother with a horse. He simply stepped into an open patch of ground. And the air around him began to shimmer.
A crackle of electricity filled the air. And a swirling vortex of wind coalesced around him. Moments later, where Sir Garath Shellarrow stood, there was now a magnificent, avian form.
It was a massive bird of prey. Its feathers were shimmering with electric blue and silver. Its eyes were like miniature storm clouds. The Thunderbird.
"Come on! Climb aboard!" A booming voice, now layered with the cry of a majestic beast, echoed from the Thunderbird.
Jack didn't hesitate. The hoverbike, still parked nearby, hummed to life. He swung onto it. "I prefer my own transport. Thanks. Less chance of getting struck by lightning."
The Thunderbird let out a sound that might have been a chuckle. "As you wish! Lead the way!"
The Thunderbird launched itself skyward. A flash of lightning and a peal of thunder.
Jack accelerated the hoverbike. The engine was whining in protest as he pushed it to its limits. He moved to the direction of the train crash. Followed by the shimmering form of the mythological beast.
They were a strange, mismatched pair. Speeding across the landscape. The rescue teams were still being formed up on the ground. They would be hours behind them.
They covered the distance in what felt like an impossible stretch of minutes. Less than an hour. As they approached the familiar wreckage, the sounds of battle were already reaching them.
The guttural chirps of the cockroach-men. The crackle of magic. The distant thud of Olward's enhanced fists.
"Another attack!" Jack growled. What he was worrying did happen.
He could already see the swarming black mass around the train cars. The five transcendent characters were visible as small figures. Radiating exhaustion but still holding their ground.
Reina was a shifting veil of mist and phantom shapes. Her [Fog Missiles] streaking out. Taking the lives of the enemies. Nick was slinging [Magic Missiles]. Olward was in front. A whirlwind of controlled brute force.
Amaranth was controlling the mist serpents. Weaving defensive maneuvers. Beside her, Lucca controlled his daggers. Spinning them in an intricate, deadly dance.
But the numbers of the cockroach-men seemed to have swelled. Pressing in hard.
Sir Shellarrow, in his Thunderbird form, descended like a bolt from the heavens.
With a majestic screech that tore through the air, he unleashed a volley of lightning bolts. Ones that crackled across the ground. Incinerating dozens of the creatures.
He flapped his large wings. A gust of wind, powerful enough to fell trees, swept outwards. Scattering many more.
Jack didn't even bother to stop. He slammed his hoverbike into the battle. Treating it less as transport. And more as a battering ram.
The bike's sturdy frame crunched through the chitinous bodies of the cockroach-men. Sending fragmented limbs and black ichor flying.
He was still on the hoverbike. One hand gripped the handlebar. Expertly maneuvering the vehicle in tight turns and daring skids. The other hand wielded his Steamrune Shotgun.
Ka-BOOM!
The shotgun roared. Spitting forth a cone of shrapnel and raw force that pulped a cluster of the creatures.
Jack twisted the bike. Drifting sideways. Blasting again. He maintained a bewildering, unpredictable pattern. A steel-and-steam whirlwind of destruction.
He was a mechanical shark in a sea of living nightmares. Never stopping. Always moving. Always blasting.
He could see Reina's head snap towards him. A flicker of relief in her eyes as she saw him.
"Love! Cover me!" He yelled over the chaos as he charged his hoverbike to her direction.
Reina immediately shifted her focus. Creating dense, disorienting fog that further obscured the enemy's vision for Jack's unpredictable charges.
Meanwhile, Sir Shellarrow continued his aerial assault. He was a magnificent harbinger of destruction. His lightning strikes were precise. Flaying swathes of enemies.
His gusts of wind tore through their formations. Sending them tumbling like discarded objects. He was a force of nature. A sky-bound living storm.
Jack, meanwhile, was a grounded hurricane. He'd learned to use the hoverbike's momentum. Crashing into groups. Then reversing just as quickly.
The shotgun was barking out death. When his shotgun ran dry, he would reload on the move. Deftly swapping shells while maintaining his death-ride.
He even deployed his [Chains of Vengeance]. Fiery chains erupting from his bracer. Lashing out to ensnare dozens of cockroach-men.
Then he pulled them into a tight, struggling preys. Dragging them on the ground. Before pivoting the hoverbike and launching them toward the other monsters. Just like using chain-and-ball weapons.
The five original defenders sensed the tide turning. They redoubled their efforts.
Nick's spells gained new vigor. Olward pummeled through the thinning ranks harder. Lucca's daggers seemed to move with renewed deadly precision. Amaranth's mist serpents became more offensive.
With Sir Shellarrow's overwhelming power from above and Jack's relentless, mobile assault on the ground, the remaining cockroach-men crumbled. Their organized assault devolved into a panicked scramble.
They broke ranks. Attempting to flee. But there was nowhere to go. Sir Shellarrow's lightning bolts cut down the stragglers.
And Jack pursued them relentlessly. Turning every attempt at escape into a final, bloody sprint. There was no reason to give them more chance for creating troubles later.
Within what felt like mere minutes, the last of the grotesque creatures collapsed. Leaving only their broken bodies. And a thick, acrid stench in the air. The battle was over.
Sir Shellarrow landed. Transforming back into his human form with a subtle shimmer of energy. He looked exhausted but grimly satisfied. His eyes swept over the scene, assessing the damage.
Jack drove her hoverbike close to the survivors.
Reina rushed to Jack. "Dear! You made good time." Her relief was palpable.
Jack dismounted. Giving her a tight, possessive hug. "Always. Just in time, too. You all looked like you were about done for."