Now that I assuredly have had enough experience with both, I think I can pinpoint the ultimate difference between Kassandora and Fortia. Fortia is clearly the better fighter, Kassandora is the better strategist and tactician. Both are fairly apt in logistics, but it is Arascus and Kassandora both who manage it for the Empire, from what we have learned after discovering their records. How much can we truly give to Kassandora? It is one thing to organize supply lines and make them efficient, but Imperial Bureaucracy is obviously the work of the God of Pride and not of her.

  Both, although Kassandora is more extreme, seek an end to warfare. Kassandora believes in her “final victory”, Fortia wishes for eternal peace. In this fashion, there is little difference between them. Fortia and Kassandora both lack much general morality, Fortia is simply more of a traditionalist than Kassandora. Of War will always try to push the envelope and develop new strategies, Fortia would do. It is simply that Kassandora is just slightly faster at this. Fortia will effortlessly defeat Kassandora is a duel of course, it is not even a question.

  No.

  Fundamentally, Fortia fights to achieve a goal. To her, warfare is just a link in her chain of logic. There is an end-goal and that end-goal may or may not require warfare to achieve and Fortia will do her utmost to achieve it.

  Kassandora however does not have this. Kassandora thrives in warfare because that is her end-goal. Kassandora enjoys warfare in a way that Fortia does not.

  - Excerpt from Goddess Allasaria’s, of Light’s, private diary.

  Kassandora stood as she watched all of Levhen simultaneously. She flexed her fingers every now and again to get some movement. The mass Orchestra should have been practiced more often. It had been done in the past, Kassandora knew she was capable of commanding far more men than this. There had been times when entire Legions had danced to the music. The greatest of battles had seen the Orchestra play through more than a hundred thousand men.

  But a thousand years was a long time and Kassandora had never been one to waste time on practice when she knew that she was capable of it. She flexed her fingers again as she watched through the eyes of men staring at the Western Gate finally being pushed open. Through the eyes of the northern guard, who were still completing their final adjustments now that everyone knew how Tartarus would enter. And through the scattered eyes of the entire army at the front. Through the scopes of snipers who had positioned their arms through parapets and over crenulations that once housed crossbowmen and arbalesters, through the ever-moving vision of Clerics who routinely swept fatigue of their assigned area as they marched from man to man, or when they returned to Kavaa. Through the gaze of Kavaa herself, who would restore the Cleric’s vitality as if she was an endless storeroom of life. Through the men who watched through screens and cameras and were ready to fire yet another tank shell if anything grand came through the two-metre long gap that had finally been pushed out. And through the sight of the men that ignored the endless mass of demons which funnelled in along the ground and instead kept their eyes fixed to ceiling, making sure that none of their winged-kin would try to sneak past the phalanx at the front and buy even a second of havoc for Tartarus.

  Still… It would have been nice to get some practice in.

  A harp string said another flying demon was coming in, a set of harp strings reported that it was a whole host of them. Kassandora took a deep breath as she scanned the skies through the eyes of men specifically assigned for that job. Most weren’t even aiming their rifles. Their eyes were the sight that others needed to know what to shoot at. Ten. Twenty. Thirty. Sixty demons came through. Incubi and succubi all, with another hundred of so imps to support them. Those were small pot-bellied demons with knives and tiny sticks they called spears. Not a threat to men. The succubi were a different thing. Casters of magic. A few had already stopped, their wings flapped as they raised their hands to point at any nearby structures. The incubi charged forwards. Kassandora made the final check.

  No armour on any of them. Tight leather on some, nudity on the others. Not even chainmail. Had they stopped manufacturing it? The plate armour was too heavy for their airborne troops, that had been always know but the lack of plate? Maybe they were just sending the scraps in to test? Kassandora’s thumbs idly tapped the tips of her fingers as balls of flame appeared within the succubi’s hands. Maybe they had just grown their population by factors so great they couldn’t equip everyone at this point? That would track.

  Kassandora saw a succubi finish an incantation and finally decided to call this farce. Instantly, her piano sent notes playing. Instantly, trumpets answered. Instantly, a dozen gunshots rang out from all directions. All single-shots that Kassandora had placed to be aimed directly at the head. All hit their target. The succubi fell and the flames in the air disappeared. The imps noticed it, the incubi had raced too far ahead to notice their brethren falling from the sky.

  Kassandora saw the opportunity. One bullet would be saved.

  That one bullet would be put to good use later. They had to take what they could get. Every little saving counted. The Orchestra played its bombastic series of notes. Flashes of gunfire rung out from parapets and from behind hidden slits that archers would have once fired from. The flock of demons all fell from the air. Each shot came from a different direction, from above, almost at the ceiling, from below, from the side, from straight ahead. They fell, a few of the smaller imps lost their heads entirely, the rest just collapsed as life left them.

  This book's true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience.

  All save for one. Kassandora summoned Joyeuse high above, it fell with a crash in the hold where no one talked, where the echoing of Tartarian growls and chants from outside was the loudest noise. The lone incubus spotted it immediately. He changed course from a spotlamp, he charged straight at Kassandora, spear ready to pierce through her.

  Kassandora just watched him through the eyes of a dozen other souls down here.

  Not yet.

  Not yet.

  Not yet.

  Now.

  The piano played a note, the organ answered. Kavaa, who had been filling a Cleric with life turned on the spot, drew her sword and swung it before her vision even caught up to the movement. Kavaa saw a blur, Kassandora saw the Goddess of Health spin before her, a sword that was standard for a Divine of their stature, although it would be a greatblade by mortal stands, flashing around.

  The Goddess of War did not even move a muscle as she locked eyes with the demon. The fearless steadfast gaze of Kassandora met that raw fury, that eternal avaricious greed for glory in the demon. And the little monster faltered for just a second. Kassandora allowed herself a triumphant smile. It didn’t make a difference whether the demon would have accelerated, stopped, kept going, dodged. Kavaa’s blade was guided by the music and the music saw everything in Levhen.

  Her blade met the demon at the perfect angle to chop him in two. Kavaa may not have been Fer but Kavaa was a Goddess still, and a powerful one at that. The monster collapsed, the spear in his hand falling past Kassandora, one part of his sliding past Kassandora, the other slamming into her legs. She did not even move, did not even call upon her armour as simply pushed it so that it would not rest on her feet. By the time the demon had hit the ground, Kavaa was already listening to the Piano’s direction. There was no checking. Men in the distance who were busy doing nothing at all checks through scopes that the Goddess of War did not have any wounds on her she could not sense and Kavaa had her hand on a Cleric’s forehead. That man had not even moved, he did not even smile to what was just witnessed.

  Save for the rumbling of engines and the constant fire of single-shots from every direction, Levhen reacted in silence. Even the Orchestra did not cheer. Such a kill would not be celebrated, the music chased the curiosity to look out of the men. It kept them watching their assigned areas. It kept stationary and ready. All who listened stayed for once a man heard the Orchestra, a soul would have to be truly hopeless to not find enjoyment in it.

  Levhen did not react to the fact a creature had gotten through their defences.

  Kassandora did not react to the fact a spear had come within throwing distance with her.

  Kavaa did not react to the fact she had just saved her Kassandora being pierced by a weapon.

  All within the Orchestra, none without the Orchestra, all towards the Orchestra.

  And so the battle continued. The stream of demons had somewhat slowed the battering of the grand ram although it was easy to predict whenever it would strike. There would be a moment when the flow slowed down, then it would collapse entirely. It would slam, the massive blocks of metal would slide open by another few inches and Kassandora would silently flick her tongue around her mouth and run her thumb down bouncing down each fingertip.

  The moment that Gate opened, the defence of Levhen would end. They maintained a steady flow of demons that could still be picked off as long as her men maintained pin-point accuracy and that, she trusted herself to provide through the Orchestra. If it became the chaos of an open brawl, the only choice would be to retreat deeper. Kavaa would be taken, the mages, the Clerics, those were useful… And the rest? Kassandora sighed. The rest would serve to die and bring about a few moments more for their Goddess.

  Then the issue was the battering ram. That mattered, that was the gear that was ever so slowly opening the dam into Levhen. She watched through her own eyes, she watched through the eyes of spectators, she watched through the eyes of men looking down scopes and sights as the next band of demons was picked off. They were starting to form a small hill of bodies. Already, hills like that were dangerous. Even ten thousand was a drop in the bucket for Tartarus and ten thousand was something that planet threw away without a second glance. Ten thousand would be enough to build a full wall of bodies. Something would have to be done.

  A low guitar plucked itself in the Orchestra. A pair of mages cast their hands into the air, their gems illuminating themselves. After dealing with Elassa, magic was not difficult to integrate into the Orchestra. It was nothing like Anassa’s crazed, ever-shifting omni-reality. Magic was just a tool. Kassandora knew how to use tools even if her fingers could not grasp them.

  Winds immediately picked up. There was no buildup, no slow release. It was a thoroughly Kassandoran style of magic, and one that Kassandora could only smile at. Diamonds that shone brightly called upon the air and it swept the bridge like a bulldozer removing bodies. The ram smashed again, it’s beat so loud it drowned out all the drums of the Orchestra for a moment.

  But even though it was not the loudest, the music still played. And through the music, Kassandora still saw. It was brief, just the slightest glint of metal that had been lubricated with oil. Just the leg of a huge greater demon. The creature would be the height of a huge barn, and muscled but that did not matter. Kassandora knew how Tartarus operated, those huge monsters would be the ones crewing the ram. Then the metal next to it must have been some… Wheel maybe? Something precious if it was shiny.

  A few chords in the Orchestra, a few notes played by organised flutes got the attention of two tanks. Inside, one gunner brought out the armour piercing round and loaded high-explosive, the other a precious armour-piercing chemical-reaction round. Kassandora had been saving them for the grandest demons, but this was the grandest prize of all. She let the next wave pass as the pair of massive demons pulled back the ram.

  Single-shots wiped out the party of a hundred of so demons that had charged threw. One of them was left standing, his helmet had bounced the bullet. Kassandora analysed which soldier it had been. It was a shot through high up. Good to know. That mistake would not be repeated again. A low guitar called upon mages, mages upon winds. Bodies were sent off into the depths, that demon would not survive the fall. The metal glinted again. A human would most likely hesitate for the perfect shot.

  There was no such thing as a perfect shot. Shots either hit or they did not. Kassandora played a note. The first tank shell fired, the high-explosive round sent a shockwave which scattered the demons in charge with physically blocking gunfire onto the ram with their bodies. The APCR shell followed before the black smoke even cleared. It hissed. It crashed. It exploded.

  And finally, there was silence. Silence and a curse, a roar from the outside and a crash so loud it could have been the battering ram slamming into the gates again. Kassandora’s mouth twisted into a smile, her Orchestra cheered, her eyes burned with red flames.

  She still had it in her.

  And just in time too.

  The Western Gate was breached an hour later.