At the first sign of even the slightest disturbance, he would act without hesitation.
It had already been more than half an hour since he had sent David to infiltrate the stronghold, and so far, he had not heard a single word. Zeke could not help but worry, despite knowing logically that there was little reason to do so.
David was an Archmage. Even if discovered, no one would be able to apprehend him quietly.
And yet, as the minutes dragged on, Zeke’s unease continued to grow. Maybe this had been a mistake. Maybe…
“Young Lord,” David’s voice finally sounded clearly in his mind. “The mission was a success.”
Zeke let out a quiet breath of relief. “What did you find?”
David paused for a moment, clearly organizing his thoughts into a concise report. “The fortress is heavily defended. There are at least several hundred troops inside.”
Zeke’s expression turned grave. It was what he had expected, but hearing it confirmed still gave him pause.
“It is not all bad news, though,” David continued. “I sensed the presence of only a single Archmage.”
“Are you certain?”
A feeling of certainty flowed through their link. “I am. I could not search the entire fortress for fear of discovery, but of that much, I am confident.”
The tapping of Zeke’s finger slowed. His mind worked in silence for a moment. “What about the defenses?”
“There is a single path to the fortress, and it's a narrow one. However, most of these natural advantages will fall flat against our forces. There are next to no defenses against attacks from the air or from the surrounding cliffs.”
Zeke stopped tapping his leg. “Is that your recommendation, then? To proceed with the attack?”
David hesitated. “I believe victory is possible, young Lord. But more than that, I believe I can redeem myself.”
A faint smile touched Zeke’s lips. What a strange thing to say. David had nothing to redeem himself for. He had performed exactly as expected in their last engagement. Even at a severe disadvantage, he had held his own against a Feuerkranz mage until reinforcements arrived.
Even so, Zeke decided to humor him. “Redeem yourself in what way?”
“The enemy this time is a Water mage. They lack both the offensive power and the elemental advantage to defeat me easily. I am confident I can hold my own far more comfortably here.”
Zeke resumed drumming his fingers.
David’s motivation was flawed, but his reasoning was not. In terms of elemental compatibility, a Water mage was a far better opponent for now. And on top of that…
Zeke’s gaze returned to the screen. Darkness had swallowed the land. Night had fallen.
There was no battlefield more advantageous for a Shadow mage.
"What do you think, Akasha?"
[Notice]
From the information provided, given the comparable strength of both forces, the geographical location, and the tactical variables: A victory is possible.
Zeke’s gaze drifted slowly over the cliffs flanking the fortress. He could not make out anything, but he knew his troops were already lying in wait there. He had dropped them off earlier in preparation for David’s mission.
If the infiltration failed, they would be in position to strike immediately.
Zeke's eyes moved to the walls, the river, the surrounding mountains.
“…Your choice, young lord?”
He drew a long breath and held it, his thoughts churning. This was risky. He would be facing the Legion on their terms. They had clearly anticipated his arrival, yet they had not committed an overwhelming force.
Was it a ploy to lure him in?
That was one possibility. But there was another, equally likely. What if this was all the Legion could afford to spare? They were under attack on multiple fronts, after all.
One Archmage was already dead at his hands. How many more could they realistically assign here on the slim chance that he would actually strike? Certainly not many.
If they did, Zeke would simply wait them out, secure in the knowledge that he was tying up multiple Archmages simply by remaining out of sight.
Looking at it from that angle, the Legion had only one viable course of action. They needed to send a force strong enough to contend with him, but not so strong that stationing it here would be a waste.
A careful balancing act.
So... this force was what they believed he was worth.
The question remained. Did he have the confidence to overcome the Legion’s estimation of his strength?
Attack?
Or retreat?
Zeke exhaled slowly, finally letting the breath trapped in his lungs escape. He had made his choice.
“Attack.”
At that single word, the calm of the night shattered. There was no need for further orders. Akasha had long since calculated the optimal strategy for taking the fortress. Every angle had been considered, every guard post mapped. It was an inhuman feat, one only the Spirit could accomplish.
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Zeke watched as his forces emerged from seemingly nowhere. Frostscale tribesmen descended the eastern cliffs, their serpentine lower bodies gliding effortlessly over the steep stone.
From the west, Ash led the Icefang warriors, accompanied by Elder Dragon, Elder Tiger, and her elite forces.
David made his move as well. In typical Shadow Mage fashion, he didn't draw any eyes. But before the first of Zeke's troops even reached the fort, many enemies were already dead.
Shadow Mages couldn't slaughter hundreds with a single spell, but each strike was deliberate. His targets were not random mages, but the strongest among the defenders. In any other army, the sudden loss of so many elites would have been a crippling blow.
Unfortunately, it would not have the same effect on the Legion.
As long as the commander still drew breath, the Legion would never fall into disarray. In that regard, they were much like him. Just as he directed his forces on a granular level, so did the Legion.
Unfortunately, there was little he could do to change that. Unless he could eliminate their commander. But Zeke did not even dare to hope for such an outcome.
After what had happened in the last confrontation, he was certain the Legion would never expose their commander so carelessly again. It was the same reason he himself remained out of the fight.
The risk of a decapitation strike was simply too great.
All it took was a single Spatial locking array to trap him and turn him into a sitting duck. At that point, two or three Legion officers would be enough to bring him down, even if only by exhausting him.
[Notice]
Our troops have reached the outer perimeter.
David had been right. Against the Chimeroi, especially when attacking from the cliffs, the terrain’s natural advantages amounted to almost nothing.
The moment the two forces clashed, he felt the drain on his Core intensify. That much was expected. With true combat underway, Akasha required far more processing power to command everyone in real time.
What he had not expected was for the strain to keep rising even after that. And rising. And rising. This was becoming worrying.
“Akasha? What’s going on?”
There was a brief silence.
[Notice]
The enemy is countering me in real time. I must continuously adapt and alter my approach to stay ahead.
Zeke’s expression darkened. That was something he had not anticipated. No single human should have been able to keep up with Akasha’s mind.
The implication left only one conclusion. Somehow, the Legion’s mental network allowed the burden of command to be shared among many. This somehow allowed them to match the Spirit in a battle of wits.
Fortunately, Zeke had chosen to stay out of the fight. That allowed him to devote his entire Core to supporting Akasha’s efforts.
Even so, the strain was already far greater than he was comfortable with. At this rate, a battle of attrition would not favor him for long. He was almost tempted to relinquish the tactical advantage, if only to curb the rising cost of countering the enemy.
In the end, he could not bring himself to do it.
Giving up that advantage would mean condemning his people to death. Even if only a few fell, that was already more than he was willing to accept. Better to endure a little longer.
Suddenly, a strange whirring sound rose from below.
Zeke’s face hardened. The noise came from the Flowsand River. The water was rising. It had to be the work of the enemy Archmage, who had revealed herself as a striking woman with ocean-blue hair, looking barely past her thirties. Even at this moment, she was repeatedly clashing with David in the fort's deepest depths.
As expected, their fight was far more even this time. David held his own without much trouble, but he still could not apply enough pressure to prevent her from acting completely.
The rising water was a serious concern. It had not yet reached his forces, but if the battle was not decided before it did, the outcome would be catastrophic.
Zeke scanned the battlefield, trying to estimate how long it would take for them to overwhelm the enemy. Then he froze.
What... was this?
The fight had completely stalled.
He could hardly believe his eyes. Even after a flawless ambush and a successful infiltration of the fortress, they were making no progress. That should have been impossible. With Raileh among his forces, the enemy should not have been able to endure.
She was an Archmage, for fuck’s sake.
And yet, his eyes did not lie. East or west, his people struggled to make even the smallest dent in the enemy lines. It was as if the Legion was just as tireless as his own forces, supported by an elven healer.
But how could that be? The Empire did not have enough Life Mages to support such—
The thought died as he saw it with his own eyes.
A Legion grunt had been skewered by a spear, his wound already turning blue from the poison on its tip. In the next moment, the man simply tore it free and continued fighting.
Zeke saw several similar scenes unfolding across the battlefield.
Then he noticed them. Woven seamlessly into the Legion’s ranks were unfamiliar figures. They differed subtly from their regular troops, their movements less polished, their expressions less composed. Yet every single one of them wielded Life.
For a moment, Zeke suspected they might be half-elves. Perhaps Imperial mages were controlling them. He quickly discarded that idea. For one, they lacked the distinctive pointed ears of Rukia’s natives. For another, there were far too many of them. Dozens, perhaps even a hundred. They made up a significant portion of the enemy force.
“What’s going on, Akasha?”
[Notice]
The enemy is highly proficient at stalling tactics. Breaking their defenses is proving more difficult than anticipated.
Zeke’s expression darkened. Stalling was one word for it. But as he glanced at the rising river, another came to mind.
Winning.
If the Legion held out until the fortress was completely submerged, his forces would be as good as dead. Zeke’s thoughts raced. How much time did he have left? Minutes?
How to turn this around?
Should he attempt to strike for the enemy’s neck after all? If he could locate the commander, victory was still possible. But they would know that as well. The odds of success were vanishingly small.
But then what?
Zeke’s mind raced, spiraling in circles. Strategies and ideas surfaced in one moment, only to be discarded the next. All the while, the Flowsand River continued to rise, a menacing presence exerting immense pressure.
No. This wouldn't do. If he did not choose now, the choice would be made for him.
“Sound the retreat.”
[Warning]
Turning our backs now will lead to severe casualties among our forces.
Zeke gritted his teeth but pressed on. “Use the Alexandria to cover their retreat.”
[Warning]
Even if we escape with our forces intact, all routes further inland remain blocked. There is no alternative path.
“Akasha,” Zeke said slowly, speaking aloud, “if we do not retreat now, we will have no forces left.”
There was a brief silence. Not resistance, but confirmation. The Spirit was executing his orders.
In the next moment, the Alexandria surged forward at full speed.
Zeke had not specified how Akasha should cover the retreat, but it was clear the Spirit had abandoned all concern for damage control. The Alexandria dropped from the sky like a falling meteor.
The last thing Zeke saw before all screens went dark was the panicked face of the enemy Archmage as the ship plummeted toward her.
Then came the earth-shattering impact.
Zeke clenched his teeth as the Alexandria shuddered violently. Tremors rippled through the ground. Stone shattered. Steel bent. The sound was a mournful cry, especially to his ears. Millions in gold had just been reduced to wreckage.
Even so, he did not regret it. To secure his people’s retreat, he would have sacrificed far more.
At last, he felt the ship move again. It lurched rather than glided. The spatial engine was clearly damaged, its delicate alignment thrown off by the distortion of the hull. That was how precise the calculations needed to be.
Zeke was grateful it moved at all.
Blind, deaf, and crippled, there was nothing left for him to do but wait for Akasha’s next words. He could only hope the remaining instruments were still intact enough for her to control the ship.
Minutes passed in silence before Akasha’s voice finally returned.
[Notice]
We have successfully escaped. No enemies in pursuit. As for the ship, several critical systems have been damaged. Including the light bending arrays...