"I believe the Slave Guild has gone too far."
The words settled heavily between them.
Jax didn't react immediately.
"How so?"
The Mayor swallowed once before answering.
"They've copied you."
Jax's brow furrowed.
"They've built their own paper network inside the Empire. Pamphlets. Broadsheets. Whisper campaigns. They're spreading a narrative."
"What narrative?" Llandra asked quietly.
The Mayor's jaw tightened.
"That Solmere is developing weapons of mass destruction."
Silence.
"And that Brannic and Merriweather's forge is a terrorist staging ground."
The air shifted.
Not tense.
Cold.
Jax's blood began to boil — not explosively, but quietly. Controlled. Dangerous.
Slavery was still technically legal in Solmere. Politics had forced that compromise. But buying and selling within city limits had been banned.
The Guild hated that.
In recent months, they'd grown bold. Marching chained caravans through outer districts just to flaunt the loophole.
Jax had ignored it.
Strategically.
But targeting Brannic?
Painting Merriweather as a terrorist?
That was different.
"What has the Empire mobilized?" Jax asked evenly.
"Ten thousand troops," the Mayor replied. "Moving through Crescent Canyon. They'll reach Crescent City in three days."
The Vixens stiffened.
Ten thousand wasn't a raid.
It was a message.
Jax's mind began calculating distances.
Crescent City was one week from the Empire's capital.
Solmere was weeks from there by traditional travel.
But Crescent City had a gate.
If it fell—
"If they reach Crescent City, can they use the portal?" Bunny asked.
Jax shook his head.
"We can disable it here from our end. They won't pass through unless I allow it."
The Mayor visibly exhaled.
"I did not know that."
"Few do," Jax replied.
The Mayor stepped closer.
"They're positioning inside Crescent City to take control from within. They're framing this as reclaiming lost territory. They do not recognize the United Kingdoms."
Which meant—
This wasn't just military.
It was ideological.
Propaganda first.
Force second.
Jax's thoughts raced.
Trap them through the gate?
Disconnect the dimensional anchor and strand them?
Relocate the exit point and let gravity handle the rest?
The ideas came fast.
And he dismissed each one.
Soldiers were not the Guild.
Most were likely conscripts.
Killing thousands to punish a leadership class?
That wasn't who he was.
"Thank you," Jax said finally. "We'll respond."
The Mayor looked unsettled.
Panicked.
But not deceitful.
Jax's perception scanned him carefully.
No lies.
No hidden intent.
Just fear.
They shook hands.
Jax turned immediately.
"To Brannic."
---
The forge was chaos.
Alive.
Packed wall to wall with adventurers, merchants, mercenary captains.
Prices had doubled.
Demand had tripled.
And still they sold out.
The theater troupe Merriweather had hired had turned the storefront into a spectacle.
Trumpets blared.
One performer leapt onto a table.
"Behold! The legendary heroes of the Crystal Caves — conquerors of the Vanguard's unfinished raid!"
Cheers erupted.
"And armed, of course, by none other than—"
"The House of Imperium!" the crowd shouted in rehearsed enthusiasm.
(Brannic's shop name had stuck. Merriweather's branding genius.)
Jax smiled politely.
Shook hands.
Endured applause.
Then leaned toward one performer.
"I need Brannic. Now."
Moments later, the dwarf stormed in to thunderous theatrical introduction.
"The forge-master whose hammer sings! The one the gods envy— BRANNIC!"
Brannic scowled.
Grabbed Jax by the collar.
Dragged him into the back.
The noise muffled instantly.
"Quite the salespeople you've got," Jax muttered.
"If they didn't make me obscene amounts of money," Brannic grumbled, "I'd have thrown them out months ago. What's wrong?"
"Ten thousand Imperial troops. Crescent City in three days."
Brannic didn't flinch.
"It's real."
Jax's eyes sharpened.
"You're sure."
Brannic nodded.
"That's why we're slammed. Merchants are buying before routes close. Adventurers are gearing up. Word's spreading."
Jax folded his arms.
"They're calling this a reclaiming."
"They're calling you a destabilizing warlord," Brannic added bluntly.
That didn't surprise him.
"They're saying Solmere manufactures weapons that could level cities."
Jax almost laughed. In his hands, it was true.
"If they push through Crescent City," Brannic continued, "they'll test the gate. They'll demand control."
"And if I block that?"
"They'll find a way to eventually get here. But our friends in Crescent City will be dead."
Silence fell.
Brannic studied him.
"You've got that look."
Jax exhaled slowly.
"I don't want war."
"No one ever does," Brannic replied.
"But I won't let them march in and take over free territory."
Brannic leaned forward.
"So what's the plan?"
Jax's mind locked into place.
Clarity.
Cold.
Focused.
"I'm going to negotiate."
Brannic's eyes narrowed.
"With ten thousand soldiers?"
"Yes," Jax stated.
"And if they refuse?"
Jax's gaze flicked briefly toward the forge where Peacemaker and Infernal Requiem were created.
"That's why I carry a big stick."
Brannic's lips twitched.
"Aye."
He knew that weapon.
He'd forged it.
Jax stepped toward the door.
Behind him, Brannic spoke softly.
"You sure you're ready for this?"
Jax paused.
The propaganda.
The army.
The Slave Guild positioning itself as righteous authority.
He turned slightly.
"If they want to test whether Solmere builds weapons of mass destruction…"
His eyes glowed faintly.
"…they're about to find out."
Outside, the forge roared with business.
Inside, war had just become inevitable.