The Empire did not stop trying.
But their efforts were beginning to fail before they even started.
Two separate kidnapping attempts targeting members of the Vixens were uncovered before they ever reached Solmere.
Both groups had planned to enter the city through the portal network.
Both groups had also made the same fatal mistake.
They were entirely human.
In the United Kingdoms, that alone was suspicious.
Most towns were mixtures of races.
Humans.
Beastkin.
Elves.
Dwarves.
Even the occasional goblin merchant or traveling demi-human caravan.
So when groups of armed travelers appeared who were entirely human—and clearly uncomfortable interacting with anyone who wasn't—it stood out immediately.
Word spread quickly through the informal watch networks Jax had helped organize.
People noticed things.
And they talked.
One such group was stopped nearly two towns away from Solmere when a caravan master reported their strange behavior.
Another group never even made it to the portal gates.
They disappeared somewhere along the road.
Neither group was ever heard from again.
Their bodies were never found.
Their equipment never recovered.
The only thing the Empire knew was that their agents had vanished.
Had the missions failed?
Had they been betrayed?
Had the United Kingdoms intercepted them?
Or had they simply abandoned their assignments?
No one in Alexandria could say for certain.
And uncertainty was exactly what Jax wanted.
Meanwhile, the United Kingdoms' intelligence network continued expanding.
Agents moved deeper into trade circles.
Merchant guilds.
Political gatherings.
Traveling caravans.
Even the lower administrative layers of the Empire itself.
Slowly.
Carefully.
Patiently.
But the most valuable intelligence network the United Kingdoms possessed was not made up of merchants or spies.
It was made up of slaves.
Throughout the Empire, slaves existed everywhere.
Inside estates.
Inside government offices.
Inside the homes of wealthy nobles.
They cleaned.
They cooked.
They served wine.
They organized libraries and studies.
And because of that, they saw and heard far more than their masters ever realized.
A slave dusting a bookshelf might notice an unfamiliar document.
A servant refilling wine could overhear a political conversation.
A stable hand might recognize the banner on a visiting noble's carriage.
Small details.
Tiny pieces of information.
But when those details were quietly passed along through underground channels, they became something far more powerful.
Many slaves dreamed of one day reaching the United Kingdoms.
They had heard the stories.
Cities where slavery had been outlawed.
Communities where Beastkin and humans lived side by side.
A place where people were judged by their actions instead of their blood.
Anything they could do to weaken the Empire—even in the smallest way—felt like a step toward that future.
And so information began flowing quietly toward Solmere.
But Jax had introduced something else into the conflict.
Something far more unusual.
Shadows.
Across dozens of towns in the United Kingdoms, Jax quietly placed fragments of his shadow magic in hidden corners.
They observed silently.
Watching rooftops.
Listening in dark alleyways.
Tracking suspicious movement at night.
They existed everywhere.
And yet nowhere.
Inside alleyways.
Under bridges.
Within the shadows of buildings.
Inside barns.
Behind taverns.
Even inside the shadows of certain trusted agents.
Just as he had once done with Merriweather and Brannic, some of Jax's closest allies had shadow soldiers placed inside their own shadows.
Silent protectors.
They were only permitted to emerge if their host faced mortal danger.
But recently, Jax had begun using that same technique in a different way.
Some shadows were placed inside individuals suspected of being spies.
The orders varied depending on the situation.
For some targets, the instructions were simple.
If they attempted violence, kill them quietly.
For others, the orders were more subtle.
Follow them.
Observe them.
Allow them to continue their mission.
Only intervene if they tried to harm someone.
In a strange way, the shadow soldiers had become something like reverse bodyguards.
They existed not to protect the host—
But to protect everyone else from them.
When the Cat Clan's ninja operatives finally infiltrated Alexandria, these shadow anchors became something even more valuable.
Jax had accumulated many types of shadow assassins during his adventures.
Creatures from different battles.
Different raids.
Different abilities.
But now he had begun referring to them collectively by a single name.
Shadow Ninjas.
A shadow ninja could slip silently into a shadow.
And wait.
When an important person appeared nearby, the ninja could rise briefly from the darkness, leap into the target's shadow, and sink back down again.
The transition had to be precise.
The shadows needed to touch.
And the moment of emergence carried risk.
But with each passing day, Jax's growing mastery of shadow magic made the process easier.
His shadows were becoming stronger.
Faster.
Smarter.
More patient.
Even without direct communication, they adapted quickly.
Jax still lacked a perfect way to communicate with them.
Shadows, after all, did not speak.
But over time, the United Kingdom agents developed methods.
Shadow ninjas could leave subtle markings in hidden places.
A carved symbol on the underside of a bridge beam.
Three scratches inside a cellar wall.
A specific arrangement of small stones near a doorway.
Signals that meant something to trained operatives.
Other times, a shadow ninja would briefly emerge long enough to slip a written note into a trusted courier's satchel before disappearing again.
It was crude.
But effective.
And as the network grew, the system improved.
Once inside Alexandria, the shadow ninjas began gathering intelligence.
Targets were identified.
Some of them… quietly removed.
A corrupt tax official who had been extorting merchants.
A particularly cruel slave broker.
An intelligence officer known for interrogating prisoners.
Each time, the same pattern repeated.
A figure vanished.
A body sometimes appeared days later.
Sometimes no trace appeared at all.
More often than not, the assassin simply remained behind—waiting for the next opportunity.
Jumping from shadow to shadow as important figures moved throughout the city.
Watching.
Learning.
Waiting.
Even the Empire's economy began to feel the strain.
The United Kingdoms had already stopped paying Imperial taxes.
That alone had been a massive financial blow.
And with every new city that joined the alliance, the deficit grew larger.
But other nations still paid.
Those tax caravans still traveled long roads back toward Alexandria.
Long roads filled with risk.
Long roads filled with dangers.
More than once, entire tax shipments disappeared.
Sometimes the wagons were discovered abandoned along the roadside.
The guards tied up but alive.
Sometimes the guards simply vanished.
Along with the gold they had been escorting.
Other times the strangest reports arrived.
Caravans would reach their destination.
The wagons would be opened.
And the chests that should have been filled with gold…
Were empty.
No broken locks.
No visible theft.
Just empty containers.
The financial damage began slowly.
But month by month it grew.
Less money reaching the Imperial treasury.
More instability.
More suspicion.
Inside Alexandria, General Korvin's intelligence network was beginning to fracture.
Agents disappeared.
Reports contradicted each other.
Informants accused one another.
Every apparent success created two new failures.
The Empire knew someone was working against them.
They simply could not see who.
Or how.
Back in Solmere, Jax reviewed the latest intelligence reports.
Across the table, King Althandor read the same documents silently.
Finally, the Elven king looked up.
"You have turned their greatest strength against them."
Jax leaned back slightly.
"Information?"
Althandor nodded.
"The Empire thrives on controlling the narrative."
Jax smiled faintly.
"When you fight an empire built on lies…"
He tapped the stack of reports on the table.
"You don't just defeat their armies."
"You make them doubt their own truth."
Across the continent—
That doubt was spreading.