High above the inferno, the bomber laughed.
Not with joy. With satisfaction.
Drenn, a scarred Marchwarden captain under Kael's direct command, gripped the airship's railing as the final Harbor-stabilized payload dropped. No scatter. No waste. Just perfect, contained devastation. The Verdant Reach's fields bloomed into craters below, Hearth-lights flickering out one by one like dying stars.
Drenn's Brand was Blastcore.
Pure destruction, forged from a life of buried rage in the Ashen forges—pounding iron until it screamed, watching weak kin shatter under pressure. His awakening had come during a mine collapse: Flux erupting from his core, turning rock to vapor in a single pulse.
Core mechanics:
Detonation field: Channels Flux into a spherical blast radius (5-20 meters scalable). Shrapnel optional—pure concussive force shreds flesh, stone, Brands alike.
Self-shield: Blastcore coats him in hardened Flux shell during release (2-second invulnerability).
Flux cost: Heavy drain (15-40% per blast). Overuse risks internal backlash—veins rupture, vision blacks.
Weakness: 3-second charge-up glows like a beacon. Predictable if you're fast enough.
He'd primed the bombs himself. Touch a payload, infuse Blastcore—boom on impact, no fuse needed. Coast tech kept 'em aloft; Orun's Seals made 'em unblockable. Perfect synergy.
"Fields gone," Drenn growled to his crew, Cindervein embers flickering from Sera's loaned specialists nearby. "Elior's soft hearts break now."
A scout yelled: "Incoming! Reach fliers!"
Drenn grinned, Flux coiling in his chest. Charge-up glow ignited—orange veins pulsing across his arms. He vaulted the rail, leaping into freefall toward the chaos below.
Blastcore primed. Radius max. Target: Elior's command cluster.
The drop accelerated. Wind howled. Ground rushed up.
Detonation.
A sun bloomed midair. Shockwave flattened trees, hurled Reach defenders like ragdolls. Hearth auras shattered under the pulse. Drenn landed in the crater's heart, shell cracking off, laughing through bloodied teeth.
Elior staggered from the blast's edge, Mira dragging him back. "March devil!"
Drenn cracked his knuckles. "Kael sends regards. Your paradise ends here."
Miles back, Joren's Echo replayed it crystal-clear: Drenn's rage-born Brand, the kill order from Sera herself.
The bomber advanced, Flux recharging. War's new face: not leaders, but weapons like him.
Personal. Explosive. Unstoppable.