The following morning, there was no doubt.
There would be war.
---
Inside the Crescent City compound, the captured Slave Guild operatives sat bound in the living room.
Some stared in disbelief.
Some shouted their innocence.
Others remained disturbingly calm.
They couldn't understand how they had been exposed.
But they had been.
Jax had even ordered breakfast for everyone.
Fresh bread.
Fruit.
Warm tea.
He ate casually in front of them.
Mockingly.
Zee stepped forward, Sanctaris humming faintly in her grasp.
"Innocent?" she asked coolly.
She tossed several confiscated items onto the table.
Coded message crystals.
Imperial insignia tokens sewn into merchant coats.
Maps marking gate control points.
Slave transfer ledgers listing Crescent City citizens by estimated market value.
"And what," she continued softly, "do you call this?"
Silence.
"The United Kingdoms does not practice torture," she added coldly.
"But if that policy ever changes… I will volunteer."
Even those feigning innocence fell quiet.
They had been caught clean.
---
Outside, armor materialized.
Jax and Llandra stood fully geared.
Hugs lingered longer than usual.
Bunny's embrace tightened around Llandra.
Nyxian stepped in front of Jax.
"Tell me you've got this."
He met her eyes.
Focused.
Calm.
She already knew.
But he answered anyway.
"We got this."
---
Crescent Moon Canyon stretched long and narrow beneath a gray sky.
Ten thousand troops marched through it in disciplined rows of ten.
Shields.
Spears.
Mages interwoven.
Command banners fluttering.
The canyon was too narrow for full formation.
Which was exactly why Jax had chosen it.
---
He stood alone in the center.
Red-accented armor.
Black trench coat swaying lightly.
No visible weapons.
Just a man.
Llandra watched from the canyon rim.
She activated her Legendary skill.
Her body vanished.
Two clones split from her position, spreading wide across the canyon's edge.
Three vantage points.
Three lines of fire.
Unseen.
---
Using the Guild's confiscated communication crystals, Jax had sent one final message in the Empire's own coded format — cracked cleanly after his System offered a Code Breaker skill.
> Town evacuated.
No resistance. Full surrender.
Sending one emissary to negotiate.
The army moved faster after that.
Less cautious.
More confident.
And then they saw him.
A lone figure waiting.
"What is your business here?" Jax's voice echoed through the canyon — amplified, precise, carrying as though he stood inches away.
A large man stepped forward.
Scar carved across his right eye.
Armor plated and heavy.
General.
"The Empire is here to reclaim what is rightfully ours," the man declared. "The United Kingdoms is an act of rebellion. Crescent City harbors terrorists and bans the legal slave trade."
Murmurs of agreement rippled behind him.
Jax remained still.
"Is there room for negotiation?" he asked evenly. "To prevent unnecessary destruction?"
"Perhaps," the General replied. "Surrender the city. All weapons. All armor. Every citizen deemed valuable will be sold to the Slave Guild."
A pause.
"You may live."
Jax tilted his head slightly.
"That's a steep opening offer."
The General began stepping forward, trying to identify him.
Was this the same man from the reports?
No shadows.
No beasts.
Just one human.
Jax continued.
"Here is my counteroffer."
The canyon quieted.
"You turn around. March home. And I allow you to live."
Laughter erupted from the front ranks.
One man.
Threatening ten thousand.
The General smirked.
He raised his hand casually.
His archers were positioned high above the canyon walls.
Out of sight.
Already aimed.
"I have a better counterproposal," the General said softly.
"How about you die."
His hand dropped.
Signal given.
He began to laugh—
And then stopped.
No arrows fell.
No shafts struck.
No misses.
He looked up.
Every archer positioned along the canyon rim collapsed in near-perfect unison.
Silent.
Dead.
He could not even see what killed them.
Whisper Arrows.
Invisible.
Fired simultaneously from three positions.
Llandra and her clones moved with surgical precision.
Archers.
Spotters.
Support mages.
All eliminated within seconds.
The General's smile faded.
Jax began walking forward.
"Your counteroffer seems underwhelming," he said calmly.
"I think my final offer will be to kill you all, and bill the Empire for my troubles."
He raised his fist.
Opened it.
From three separate canyon points—
Arrows rained down.
But not at the soldiers.
At the canyon walls.
Explosions erupted along pre-weakened fault lines Jax had prepared the night before.
Stone shattered.
Rock cascaded.
Massive sections of cliff face collapsed behind the marching army.
The rear ranks screamed as debris sealed the canyon exit.
Dust filled the air.
Panic rippled.
"You've trapped yourself!" the General roared.
Shields locked.
Mage barriers flared.
"You leave us no choice but forward!"
His troops formed tight.
Shields raised.
Magic layered.
"You are one man!" he shouted. "We will raze this city! We will enslave everyone you love! And you—"
He pointed directly at Jax.
"—will die alone."
Jax stopped walking.
Smiled.
"You know," he said quietly, "there's something about me you don't know."
The light dimmed.
Shadows stretched unnaturally across the canyon floor.
The air grew heavy.
Darkness pooled behind him.
Then—
It erupted.
From the ground.
From the canyon walls.
From his own shadow.
One thousand shadow beasts rose.
Wolves.
Ogres.
Serpents.
Winged horrors.
Shadow Knights.
Gryph.
Fang.
Loki.
And above them all—
Dante.
Wings spread wide against the canyon sky.
The earth trembled beneath their emergence.
The Imperial front line faltered.
The General's confidence cracked.
Jax's voice rolled like thunder.
"I'm never alone."