(A few hours later, The Juxta Military Base, Planet Juxta)
Seated cross-legged atop the nozzle of a colossal planetary air cannon, Charles puffed quietly on his cigarette, his gaze locked on the rainbow shimmer of the planetary mana barrier high above, as wave after wave of righteous faction ships exploded upon contact with the barrier, turning to ash before their shadows could even touch Juxta's surface.
The war had long since lost its novelty.
Each day was the same as the last, with a few thousand enemy ships hurling themselves at the barrier in predictable formations, hoping to probe for weaknesses that didn't exist, while the handful that managed to survive the barrier's burn were instantly shredded by the thousands of air cannons spread across Juxta's ground defence, their bolts firing in perfect synchronization with cold, unfeeling efficiency.
Charles didn't even blink at the destruction of a ship anymore.
