The coalition army assembled at dawn outside Eredor's gates.
Five hundred soldiers from three kingdoms—Valorian's professional military, Morwen's elite rangers, Eredor's City Guard. They formed ranks in the gray morning light, a forest of steel and determination.
Kaelen stood with the assault team, watching the display of force.
"It's not enough," Viktor muttered. "Marcus has eight hundred defenders, most of them fanatically loyal. Plus corrupted creatures that don't feel pain or fear. Numbers alone won't win this."
"Numbers are just to keep his attention," Valdris replied. "We're the actual weapon. They're the distraction."
Princess Isabella appeared on horseback, riding down the assembled lines. She looked every inch the war leader—armor polished, sword visible, expression serious.
"Soldiers of the Coalition," she called out, her voice magically amplified. "We march to face a threat that transcends kingdoms and politics. Marcus Blackwood seeks to release the Shadow Lord and plunge our world into chaos. Today, we stop him. Not for glory, not for conquest—but because someone must. And we are the ones who can."
The speech continued—standard military rhetoric about courage and duty and sacrifice. But it worked. Kaelen could see soldiers standing straighter, gripping weapons tighter, believing they could actually win this.
"Good speech," he said to Lia quietly.
"She's had practice," Lia replied. "This isn't the first impossible mission she's sent people on."
"Encouraging."
The army began to march. The assault team traveled separately—smaller group, faster movement, different route. They'd arrive at the staging point ahead of the main force, prepare the specific insertion plans.
Kaelen found himself walking beside Ronan.
"You're quiet," Ronan observed.
"Thinking," Kaelen replied. "About what happens if we actually win. Everyone's planning like we're going to die, but what if we don't? What if we stop Marcus and survive?"
"Then you figure out what comes next," Ronan said. "One day at a time, one crisis at a time. The world always has new problems. You solve them until you can't anymore."
"That's bleak."
"That's reality." Ronan paused. "But for what it's worth, I think you'll survive. You're more resilient than you give yourself credit for. Survived Soulrender longer than anyone expected. Resisted Marcus's recruitment. Kept your humanity despite everything trying to strip it away. That counts for something."
"Thanks, I think," Kaelen said.
"Don't mention it. Literally—if you tell people I said something nice, I'll deny it."
They marched for three days.
---
The staging point was an abandoned fort twenty miles from the ritual site. Defensible, central, adequate for housing five hundred soldiers and their supplies.
The main army set up camp while the assault team gathered for final intelligence updates.
"Latest reconnaissance," Valdris said, displaying magical projections. "Marcus has eight hundred twelve defenders confirmed. Seventy percent cultists, thirty percent corrupted creatures. They're positioned in three defensive rings around the ritual site."
The projection showed the layout—outer perimeter, mid-range strongpoints, inner sanctum where the ritual would occur.
"Our approach is here," Valdris indicated a specific route. "Main army attacks from the east and south, drawing defenders to those fronts. We insert from the north using aerial deployment—Cassandra creates ice platforms, we drop from altitude, bypass outer defenses entirely."
"That's a forty-foot drop," Thomas said nervously.
"Elena and Brother Matthias will cushion the landing with combined magic," Valdris replied. "Minimal injury risk if executed properly."
"What if it's not executed properly?" Thomas pressed.
"Then you die," Cassandra said bluntly. "Stop asking obvious questions."
Valdris continued. "After insertion, we're on foot. Garrett breaches any physical barriers. Chen siblings handle scouts and patrols. Viktor guides us through the optimal path based on his knowledge of cultist defensive doctrine. We reach the inner sanctum within twenty minutes of insertion."
"And then?" Kaelen asked.
"Then we face Marcus," Valdris said. "Probably with his inner circle support. That's where your resonance armor becomes critical—Kaelen and Lia can match Marcus's power level while the rest of us handle his support. We overwhelm through coordination and surprise."
"Marcus doesn't surprise easily," Viktor warned. "He'll have contingencies."
"So do we," Valdris replied. "That's why we trained for three weeks. Trust the training. Trust the team. Trust yourself."
She dismissed the meeting, and the team dispersed to make final preparations.
---
Kaelen found Lia on the fort's wall, looking toward the distant ritual site.
"Can't see it from here," Kaelen said, joining her.
"I know. But I can feel it," Lia replied. "There's shadow energy building in that direction. A lot of it. Marcus is already starting the convergence preparations."
"Is it too late to stop him?"
"Not yet. But soon. Maybe twenty-four hours before he's committed fully. After that, stopping him means risking partial convergence—the Shadow Lord manifesting incompletely. That might be worse than full manifestation."
"So we have a narrow window," Kaelen said.
"Very narrow. We attack tomorrow night. Hit him while he's prepared but not yet executing. It's our best chance."
They stood in silence, both processing the reality of what came next.
"I'm scared," Lia admitted quietly.
"Me too," Kaelen said.
"I keep thinking about all the ways this goes wrong. Marcus kills us. We die in the initial assault. The resonance armor fails. We stop him but the Shadow Lord manifests anyway. Or we win completely but I don't survive the final resonance activation."
"Or we win and both survive," Kaelen suggested. "And we get that house and cat we talked about."
"That seems the least likely outcome," Lia said, but she smiled slightly.
"Maybe. But I'm stubborn about unlikely things." Kaelen took her hand. "We've survived everything so far. Cultists, corrupted creatures, Marcus's recruitment, our own corruption. Tomorrow's just one more impossible thing to survive."
"You make it sound easy."
"It's not. But pretending helps."
Lia leaned against him. "If I don't make it—if the final resonance activation kills me—promise you won't do anything stupid with Soulrender. Don't use it to try bringing me back or to avenge me. Just... move forward. Find another way to live."
"I'm not promising that," Kaelen said. "Because you're going to survive. Both of us are. No dramatic sacrifices, no heroic deaths. We're ending this story alive and together."
"You can't guarantee that."
"Watch me."
They stayed on the wall until evening, both pretending tomorrow wasn't coming.
But it was coming.
Ready or not.
---
That night, the assault team gathered one final time.
No speeches. No inspirational words. Just twelve people who'd trained together, fought together, and would probably die together, sharing quiet company before the storm.
"Anyone have regrets?" Drake asked.
"Too many to count," Garrett replied. "But none worth changing. Everything I've done led here. That's enough."
"I regret not eating better food," Cassandra said. "Military rations are terrible. If I survive, first thing I'm doing is finding a proper restaurant."
"I'll join you," Elena said. "Best food in Morwen's capital. You're buying."
"Why am I buying?"
"Because I'll have saved your life approximately fifty times during tomorrow's fight. You'll owe me."
They shared dark laughter. Gallows humor helping them face what came next.
"Kaelen?" Yuki asked. It was maybe the third time she'd spoken directly to him. "What drives you? Why face death for strangers?"
"They're not strangers," Kaelen said. "They're people who deserve to live without ancient evils trying to devour them. That seems worth fighting for."
"Simple answer," Yuki observed.
"Simple is honest," Kaelen replied.
She nodded approval. "I can respect that."
Ronan raised a flask. "To simple honesty, impossible odds, and the idiots who fight anyway."
"To idiots," they echoed, drinking.
Morning would bring war.
But tonight, they had each other.
And for now, that was enough.
---
Kaelen woke before dawn to find Soulrender humming with unusual intensity.
*Something's wrong*, the blade said.
"What?" Kaelen asked aloud, drawing the sword.
*The ritual. Marcus is starting early. He's accelerated his timeline.*
Kaelen ran to find Valdris, found her already awake and reviewing intelligence reports.
"I know," she said before he could speak. "Scouts detected unusual magical activity an hour ago. Marcus is beginning the convergence twelve hours ahead of schedule."
"Why?" Kaelen demanded.
"Because he knows we're here," Valdris replied. "He's forcing our hand—we attack now unprepared, or we wait and let him complete the ritual. Either way, he has advantage."
"So what do we do?"
Valdris looked at him with grim determination. "We attack now. Wake the team. We deploy in thirty minutes."
"The main army—"
"Won't be ready in time. We go alone. Twelve against eight hundred. No backup, no support, minimal preparation." She smiled darkly. "Exactly the kind of stupidly impossible mission we trained for."
"We're going to die," Kaelen said.
"Probably," Valdris agreed. "But we're going to hurt him first. That's all that matters."
Thirty minutes later, the assault team stood ready in the pre-dawn darkness.
No time for speeches. No time for doubts.
Just twelve specialists about to attempt the impossible.
"Let's go save the world," Valdris said.
They moved out into the darkness.
Toward battle.
Toward Marcus.
Toward destiny.