-ON THE BACKS OF DRAGONS-

-Clash against the Oppressor-

Slowly, the meteor launching beast emerged from the fog, the colossal weapon revealing itself to its victims. It was a ship, but with the scale of the Bewilderbeast, it made the Corps' battle cruisers look like toys as it kept coming. The first thing anyone noticed aside from the ship's sheer size was a massive cannon poking out over the bow, the bore big enough that it would take at least three men standing on each other's shoulders to even reach across. Even from a great distance, the stench of black powder was unmistakable.

The floating siege was heavily adorned in Roman decorations and additional weapons including at least thirty smaller cannons per side. The Empire wanted their super weapon to be armed to the teeth, and look good as it slaughtered any resistance.

To the sides of the behemoth war machine, several other ships began to appear, thankfully they were only about the size of a light cruiser and all lacked the massive cannon. What they did have however, was plate armor, steam propulsion, and a primarily cannon armament.

One of the smaller ships moved forward towards the Corps' fleet, waving a white flag. The sign of a cease fire for negotiations, and as such the Destroyers let it pass. The Two Alphas made a quick flight and landed on the deck to be greeted with a formation of centurions who parted to reveal a Roman Officer sitting at a desk.

"Ah, the Two Alphas, please take a seat." The man began; neither Dragon nor Rider accepted his offer. "I am Praefectus Turibius Commander of the Roman Navy, your better. Sign the Surrender appeal here and swear your loyalty to your Emperor, and the Oppressor may not smash your pathetic little fleet." The officer ordered holding out a quill after dipping it in ink.

"Is that what that ship is called, the Oppressor?" Halldon asked as he looked at the foreboding weapon.

"Yes, yes it is." Turibius confirmed, "Do you dare challenge the power of the Mars Cannon?"

"Mars Cannon? I'm curious what's it made out of? Bronze? Iron? Or some new alloy you stole from the Chinese?" Halldon asked back, glancing at the document.

"It's built with Roman Superiority!" Turibius snapped. "Sign the appeal and accept your fate!"

"I speak for all who we lead. We will die in battle, we will die of disease, we will die of age, but we will never die on our knees at the feet of a tyrant." The human Alpha stated, impaling the document and the table beneath it with his sword, the fire quickly consuming the pages.

"You idealist fool!" Turibius laughed, "You just burned the only chance you and your followers had for a painless death, now you have to face the wrath of the Oppressor and it's Mars Cannon!"

"Then I'll face it, then we'll face it." Halldon corrected himself as he climbed back onto his partner, ascending to the clouds before anyone could stop them.

The Corps fleet began to split, forming two separate battle columns and bringing their guns to face the Roman fleet. Hundreds of dragons took to the air and combined into their formations waiting to attack. The air grew thick with anticipation, fingers began twitching, and voices began to waver in fear.

And then they heard the dive, for a moment the world stopped in its tracks.

-On the Backs of Dragons-

The Oppressor is heavily armored on the front and sides, no doubt designed with frontal engagements in mind. The stern however, is less protected by armor, but has better anti-air coverage with those net launchers. Toothless is too fast for them to track, but anything slower then a Night Fury is guaranteed to get caught in the nets, and drown while struggling to get free.

The Mars Cannon is built so it's always slightly elevated with the front of the weapon extending over the bow and the butt of the cannon concealed below the deck, probably breach loaded like the Naval Rifles. It might be possible for the Romans to reload the weapon while out at sea but considering the size of the cannonball and the powder necessary to fire the cannon, reloads may take up to a day at least, and maybe even years at most.

Then again, a weapon powerful enough to cause a tidal wave or demolish entire castles in a single blow was just as much of a terror weapon as it is physical. But as the old saying goes: The bigger the object, the bigger the flaws. I just need to find the Oppressor's.

Halldon analyzed his enemy's trump card as he and Toothless screamed past the Roman fleet dodging all matters of traps. The two fleets had already engaged each other, and so far air superiority and accurate gunnery tipped the odds in the Corps favor, but the battle simply would go on forever if the Oppressor remained operational.

The two Alphas nearly crashed into the water as they ducked to avoid a Roman broadside, and instinctively Toothless returned fire sending individual plasma blasts into the Roman ship's gun ports, igniting the powder within.

Igniting the powder, it was a perfect answer.

Once again the pair climbed disappearing into the clouds above before stalling and diving on their prey, firing three plasma blasts aimed for structural points holding the Mars Cannon in place.

Unable to support the remaining weight of the giant metal tube alone, the remaining supports splintered as they were crushed by the weapon. The barrel crashed down onto the Oppressor's deck before sliding off the left side of the bow sticking into the seafloor below, almost capsizing the ship in the process.

But that was far from the finishing blow.

The Two Alphas dived in on their prey again, and fired a single plasma blast at their exposed target, the Mars Cannon's magazine. A room previously hidden from view by the cannon itself, but now exposed it was quite literally the heart of the beast.

Plasma met powder, and the entire earth shook as the Oppressor, and the Empire it fought for died in a beautiful explosion. First a geyser of fire erupted from the magazine, almost lifting the ship out of the water and touching the clouds above. Next, a massive fireball ripped the ship in two before secondary explosions blasted the two halves into nothing more then scrap and splinters.

And then, all was silent until the debris rained down and littered the sea. The Roman Empire had fallen; it was only a matter of time before they accepted it.

Victorious, the Night Fury landed on the end of one of the Adventure's Naval Rifles before roaring. They had again, done the impossible and changed the world.

Just one more stop before returning home. . .