The following morning, there was no doubt.
There would be war.
The previous night's operation had exceeded even Vaelrith's expectations.
Inside Crescent City's compound, the captured Slave Guild operatives sat bound in the main hall.
Some shouted their innocence.
Others remained disturbingly calm.
None of them understood how their network had unraveled overnight.
Fresh bread, fruit, smoked meats, and warm tea had been served for everyone.
Including the prisoners.
Vaelrith calmly buttered a piece of bread before taking another bite.
"You seem confused," he said pleasantly.
"I assure you, that feeling will pass."
Several prisoners glared at him.
One finally scoffed.
"You have nothing."
Vaelrith dabbed his mouth with a cloth.
"Is that so?"
He nodded toward Dawn.
The young elf stepped forward carrying a small wooden box.
Inside rested confiscated communication crystals.
Imperial military insignias stitched inside merchant clothing.
Ledgers documenting slave purchases.
Maps marking gate patrols and hidden meeting locations.
The room fell silent.
Nyxian whistled softly.
"...Well."
"They're thorough."
One prisoner finally spoke.
"You'll never prove any of it."
Vaelrith smiled.
"No."
"I won't."
He looked toward another elf standing quietly against the wall.
"Commander."
The elf stepped forward.
Without a word, he pressed two fingers against the prisoner's forehead.
A pale silver rune spread across the man's skin before fading beneath it.
The prisoner blinked.
"What did you—"
"Tell me your name."
"...Rennan Vos."
His eyes widened.
"I... didn't..."
Vaelrith folded his hands.
"Who do you work for?"
"The Imperial Slave Guild."
The man tried to clamp his mouth shut.
His own voice answered anyway.
"I oversee transfers through Crescent City."
Panic spread through the other prisoners.
"What have you done to him?"
"The Mark of Truth," Vaelrith answered calmly.
"...lying becomes impossible."
Silence consumed the room.
The interrogation lasted less than an hour.
Names.
Safe houses.
Dead drops.
Communication schedules.
Hidden agents.
Every answer came effortlessly.
By breakfast's end, the Empire's intelligence network inside Crescent City no longer existed.
Across the room, another elf quietly listened to each prisoner's voice.
Patiently.
Methodically.
He asked each of them only a handful of harmless questions.
Their names.
Where they were born.
Favorite meals.
The weather.
Nothing important.
When he finally spoke again...
He sounded exactly like the first prisoner.
Perfectly.
Nyxian blinked.
"...That..."
"...is creepy."
Vaelrith couldn't suppress a small smile.
"Our Mimics are exceptionally talented."
One by one, confiscated communication crystals activated.
The elf delivered reports in flawless voices.
"No resistance."
"City largely evacuated."
"Single envoy coming to negotiate."
"No unusual military activity."
The replies returned almost immediately.
Satisfied.
Trusting.
Exactly as Vaelrith had hoped.
Nyxian glanced toward him.
"So..."
"The Mark only lasts two hours?"
"Correct."
She looked back toward the prisoners.
"...They're still answering questions."
"They believe it still functions."
Nyxian slowly smiled.
"Oh..."
"I like you."
Vaelrith inclined his head politely.
"I shall accept that as a compliment."
Miles away, inside the dimensional shelter overlooking Crescent Moon Canyon, morning arrived quietly.
Neither Jax nor Llandra had slept particularly well.
The previous day's work had gone exactly as planned.
Today...
Everything else depended upon choices.
Llandra adjusted the collar of his coat.
"You still have time to change your mind."
He smiled softly.
"So do you."
She laughed once.
"As if."
She stepped forward, wrapping her arms around him.
The embrace lingered longer than either intended.
Finally, she looked up.
"Come home."
"I intend to."
She kissed him gently before stepping back.
"I'll be watching."
"I know."
Moments later, she disappeared into the canyon walls.
Jax continued alone.
Crescent Moon Canyon stretched for miles beneath an overcast sky.
Ten thousand Imperial soldiers marched through its narrow passage.
Disciplined.
Organized.
Professional.
Heavy infantry.
Spearmen.
Cavalry.
Battle mages.
Supply wagons.
Command banners fluttered above the advancing columns.
The canyon allowed only a fraction of their army to deploy at once.
Exactly as Jax had intended.
He waited alone.
Black trench coat.
Red-accented armor.
Hands resting comfortably at his sides.
No visible weapon.
No visible army.
Only one man.
The Imperial column finally halted.
A heavily armored commander stepped forward.
A long scar crossed one eye.
Years of campaigning rested in his posture.
He wasn't arrogant.
He was experienced.
"You are Jax Darquebane."
"I am."
"I am General Marcus Valen of the Imperial Expeditionary Legion."
Jax inclined his head.
"A pleasure."
"I doubt that."
The General surveyed the empty canyon.
"No army."
"No fortifications."
"No reinforcements."
He looked back toward Jax.
"You've accepted reality."
Jax said nothing.
The General continued.
"The Empire is prepared to show mercy."
Jax raised an eyebrow.
"I am listening."
"Surrender Crescent City."
"Transfer control of every Transportation Gate."
"Surrender every weapon, every enchanted artifact, every suit of armor."
His expression never changed.
"Brannic Ironbeard."
"Merriweather."
"Every escaped slave."
"Every citizen who knowingly aided this rebellion."
"They will be remanded to the Slave Guild."
He spoke the final sentence almost casually.
"A considerably more merciful outcome than execution."
Silence settled across the canyon.
Finally...
Jax nodded once.
"That is an ambitious opening offer."
The General smiled faintly.
"I thought you might agree."
"My turn?"
The General gestured.
"Please."
"You will turn your army around."
"You will march home."
"You will never threaten another free city again."
"And..."
Jax smiled.
"I'll allow all of you to live."
Laughter rolled through the Imperial front ranks.
The General chuckled.
"I was hoping for negotiation."
"I believe that was negotiation."
The General sighed.
"A shame, that you would come alone. My counteroffer is death!"
He casually lowered one hand.
The signal.
Nothing happened.
His brow furrowed.
He lowered it again.
Still nothing.
Slowly...
His confidence began to crack.
Before he could speak—
Bodies began tumbling from the canyon rim.
Archers.
Spotters.
Battle mages.
One after another.
Dead before they struck the ground.
Invisible Whisper Arrows.
Llandra.
And her Astral Echoes.
Not a single Imperial support position survived.
The General stared upward.
"...Impossible."
Jax took a single step forward.
"Your counteroffer seems..."
He paused.
"...underwhelming."
The General's jaw tightened.
"Kill him!"
No one moved.
Instead...
The canyon thundered.
Explosions rippled through carefully prepared fault lines.
Entire sections of stone collapsed behind the Imperial army.
Thousands of tons of rock sealed the canyon entrance.
Dust rolled through the valley.
The General's eyes widened.
"You've trapped yourself."
For just a moment...
Jax was reminded of an old comic from his previous world.
A single line had remained with him ever since.
He smiled.
"You're mistaken."
He took another slow step forward.
"I'm not trapped in here with all of you."
Another step.
"All of you..."
His smile widened.
"...are trapped in here with me."
Darkness spread across the canyon floor.
Every shadow beneath Jax's feet stirred.
Then...
The earth itself answered.
Shadow Wolves.
Shadow Ogres.
Shadow Serpents.
Shadow Knights.
Hundreds.
Then a thousand.
Each one rose silently from pools of darkness until an army stood behind him.
The Imperial soldiers instinctively tightened their grips on their weapons.
Then...
One armored knight stepped forward.
Warden.
Unlike the others, he did not immediately take his place.
Instead...
He slowly drew his sword.
The sound of steel echoed through the canyon.
He raised the blade high above his head.
A pulse of violet-black energy erupted from its edge.
It flowed through every shadow like living veins.
The wolves stood taller.
The ogres squared their shoulders.
The knights closed their ranks with flawless precision.
Every shadow became sharper.
Faster.
Purposeful.
Not stronger through rage...
But through discipline.
The Imperial officers exchanged uneasy glances.
No one understood what had changed.
Only that something had.
Every shadow turned toward Warden.
Waiting.
He did not move.
Instead...
He lowered his gaze toward Jax.
Awaiting his command.
Jax met his eyes.
Then gave the slightest nod.
Warden lowered his sword.
Instantly, the entire Shadow Army shifted into perfect battle formation.
Front lines formed.
Support units withdrew behind them.
Ranged shadows claimed elevated positions.
Serpents slipped silently between the ranks.
Not one command had been spoken.
The General felt his stomach tighten.
These were not monsters.
They were soldiers.
Then...
Warden looked upward.
Every shadow followed his gaze.
So did the Imperial army.
The sunlight vanished.
An enormous silhouette glided silently above the canyon.
Wings stretched from one wall to the other, casting the entire battlefield beneath a moving sea of shadow.
No roar.
No flames.
No threat.
It didn't need one.
Every veteran in the Imperial ranks recognized the creature immediately.
A Flame Dragon.
Not merely alive...
Enslaved to the man standing before them.
If Jax wished it, the canyon would become a river of molten stone. There would be no battle, no retreat, and no survivors—only fire hot enough to devour flesh, armor, and eventually even the stone itself.
Instead...
The dragon simply circled overhead.
Waiting.
Just like the rest of the army.
Jax looked at General Valen and smiled.
"I'm never alone."