Part One Hundred Twenty-Four — What Was Actually Coming

　Word reached us before the army itself did — Elaine's own scouts, tracking movement along Horizoncrest's southern approach, confirming what none of us had wanted to actually hear this soon after everything else we were already carrying.

　"Myrath's mobilizing," she told me, spreading a rough map across the council table. "Not scattered raiders this time. A proper army. Fifteen thousand, by our count — ten thousand explosive spell casters for ranged assault, five thousand for close combat backup."

Fifteen thousand. That's — that's a considerably different scale of problem than assassins in the dark.

　"Myrath doesn't lose ranged engagements," Enzo said, grim, settling into the same careful, tactical focus he'd brought to every serious threat since becoming Elder Dragon. "Their level eight explosive spellwork is unmatched anywhere on this continent. It's why they sit among the five most powerful kingdoms in the world, despite fielding a comparatively unremarkable army in every other respect."

　"Their weakness?" I asked.

　"Defense," he said, simple. "They've never needed it. Nobody survives close enough to test it properly."

Fifteen thousand soldiers with weaponry that could level a mountain from range. That's not something I can afford to let anywhere near Horizoncrest's actual borders.

　"If they get within range of the domain itself," I said, thinking it through carefully, "they could destroy the whole town from a distance we'd never close in time. We need to stop them well before that becomes a possibility."

　"Agreed," Enzo said. "Send me. Eris. The elite trio and their own subordinates. We intercept them on open ground, well clear of anywhere civilians could be caught in the exchange."

That's a solid plan. Still makes me nervous, sending this many people I love against fifteen thousand.

　"You'll all have what you need," I said, turning the thought over properly. "Every one of you carries Null now, through the naming. Whatever specific gifts that's given each of you — use them fully. This isn't a fight where holding back serves anyone."

　Eris, arms crossed, studied the map with the same focused precision she brought to every serious threat.

　"I have an idea, actually. If their entire doctrine depends on ranged explosive spellwork landing cleanly — what happens if it simply doesn't land at all?"

　"Explain," I said, curious.

　"Null negates other mana on contact," she said. "I've been working on shaping that into something more deliberate than just my own blade carrying it. A proper barrier, purpose-built to intercept incoming spellwork before it ever reaches whoever's actually behind it."

Huh. That's — that's genuinely clever, actually.

　"You think you can hold something that scale?" I asked, genuine concern threading through the question. "Fifteen thousand casters is a considerably bigger test than anything you've faced so far."

　"I won't know until I try," she said, steady despite the honest uncertainty in her own admission. "But I'd rather test it against an actual threat than wait for a smaller stage that never comes."

That's exactly the kind of courage I've come to expect from her. Doesn't make it easier to send her into it, though.

　I gave my approval, reluctant but genuine, watching preparations begin properly across the following day — Elva, Celica, and Luke drilling their own subordinates one final time, Enzo reviewing tactical positioning with the same careful patience he'd once used teaching me to lose gracefully, Eris working through her own barrier concept with quiet, focused determination.

　There was one more piece I needed settled before they actually left, and I gathered Enzo aside privately to make sure of it.

　"If you get the chance," I told him, careful, "before anything escalates too far — try to actually talk to whoever's leading them. Their king, if he's present. Let him know they're being used, manipulated into a war that was never actually about them."

　Enzo considered that, something thoughtful behind his usual composed confidence.

　"You believe that might actually work? Kings rarely listen to reason once pride's already fully engaged."

　"Maybe not," I admitted. "But I'd rather try diplomacy first and have it fail, than skip straight to violence and never know if there was another path available. That's not the kind of leader I want to become, however much easier the alternative might feel in the moment."

　"Understood," he said, something like genuine respect in the simple word. "I'll try, for your sake, even if I doubt it changes much."

　That evening, with the whole group set to depart the following morning, I found myself unable to properly sleep, the same familiar tension I'd carried before every major conflict since Doran and Fenrik settling heavy in my chest.

Fifteen thousand soldiers. A king who's never lost a ranged engagement in his life. Eris testing an entirely new ability against a scale nobody's ever tried it at before.

Please. Please let this go as cleanly as we're all hoping it will.

"Anxiety is a rational response to genuine uncertainty," Anti-Subconsciousness offered, brief as ever, though something in the observation felt, despite its terseness, quietly meant to comfort rather than simply inform.

Yeah. Doesn't make the waiting any easier, though.

　I sat with that uneasy quiet a long while, watching the moon climb over Horizoncrest's rooftops, before finally, reluctantly, letting exhaustion win out over worry long enough to actually rest.

　Tomorrow, everyone I loved was walking toward fifteen thousand soldiers on my behalf.

I hope I've prepared them well enough. I hope, more than anything, that tomorrow doesn't cost us what it's genuinely capable of costing.