An army couldn't run on anger alone. It needed bread. It needed steel. And most of all, it needed energy.
Iron-Hollow was buzzing. The raising of the Black Banner had ignited something in the three hundred deserters. Men were drilling in the tunnels. Smiths were banging dents out of armor.
But the stores were empty.
"We have food for three days," Commander Valerius said, pointing to a slate map on the table. "If we ration it, maybe five. But we don't have power cells for the Striders. Without them, our heavy support is useless."
Kael leaned over the map. "Where does the Spire get its fuel in this sector?"
"Here," Elric said, tapping a marked location ten miles east. "Sector 9 Refinery. It processes raw ash-particulates into Ether-cells."
"A refinery," Valerius grunted. "Heavily guarded. Two platoons of regulars and a Praetorian squad.
Suicide."
"Not if we don't knock on the front door," Kael said.
He traced a line through the Smog-Sea.
"The refinery has waste vents," Kael said. "Old intake pipes that draw from the ash dunes. If we go through the ventilation..."
"Discharge tunnels?" Horg laughed from the corner. "Boss, those pipes are full of toxic sludge. And they're sealed with magical wards."
Kael raised his left hand. The Obsidian arm hummed.
"Wards don't work on me," Kael said. "And I can burn through seals."
Elric looked at the map. "If we take the refinery, we can restock the Striders. We can power the perimeter shields."
"We aren't just restocking," Kael said, looking up. His eyes were hard.
"What do you mean?" Valerius asked.
"The Spire uses that fuel for their Air-Cruisers," Kael said. "It's a logistics hub. If we take it... we don't keep it."
Valerius frowned. "You want to destroy it?"
"We want to hurt them," Kael said. "We want to show the Ashlands that the Spire isn't untouchable.
We take the cells. Then we burn the facility to the ground."
The room went quiet. Destroying a refinery wasn't a raid. It was an act of war.
"That will bring the High Command down on us," Valerius warned. "They will send an Armada."
"Good," Kael said. "Let them come."
He looked at the men around the table.
"Get the Iron-Walkers ready, Commander. We move at nightfall."