The message reached Solmere before the sun set.
By morning—
The entire United Kingdoms knew.
An attack was coming.
Not one.
Not two.
Five.
Five coordinated strikes against five settlements.
Five Imperial armies ordered to leave nothing behind.
Men.
Women.
Children.
Homes.
Farms.
Everything.
The Empire had given itself thirty days.
The United Kingdoms gave itself three.
An emergency council was called in Solmere.
In person.
No projections.
No intermediaries.
No delays.
Every kingdom and major territory was ordered to send someone capable of making decisions.
Not someone who could carry a message home.
Someone who could say yes.
Three days later, seventy seats surrounded the largest room anyone had managed to fit inside Solmere's council chamber.
Every one of them was occupied.
Kings sat beside mayors.
Governors beside merchants.
Generals beside Guild representatives.
Humans.
Elves.
Beastkin.
Dwarves.
People who, not terribly long ago, would never have willingly shared a room.
Now they were sharing an enemy.
Which, Jax had learned, was apparently excellent for diplomacy.
He entered with Llandra beside him.
Lexi followed several steps behind, already studying the room.
Jax had been away from Solmere when the summons first went out.
Working.
Traveling through the growing gate network with Lexi and introducing her to the parts of his business empire where her particular talents could do the most damage.
Warehouses.
Distribution.
Trade agreements.
Production.
Contracts.
Inventory.
Anywhere people had created an organizational problem and then apparently decided the best solution was to keep adding more paperwork until nobody understood it.
Lexi loved those places.
A little too much.
Jax had watched her spend forty minutes questioning three warehouse managers until all three independently reached the conclusion that their receiving schedules were causing half their own delays.
She had never once told them what to do.
By the end, they were enthusiastically redesigning the system themselves.
Jax was beginning to find it unsettling.
Impressive.
But unsettling.
Then the messengers had found them.
And business had stopped mattering.
Now Lexi took a seat among the larger assembly while Llandra remained with Jax.
That wasn't unusual.
Llandra was his wife.
But when Jax fought—
She was something else.
His second.
His strategist.
The person he trusted to look at one of his plans and tell him exactly why it was stupid.
Sometimes with remarkable enthusiasm.
Jax valued that.
Especially when people might die if he was wrong.
The chamber was already loud.
Conversations overlapped from every direction.
Troop numbers.
Evacuations.
Supply routes.
Fortifications.
Rumors.
Questions.
Arguments that hadn't officially started yet but were clearly stretching.
Jax reached his chair.
Then stopped.
There was something he needed to do first.
"I'd like to submit a motion."
The nearest conversations died.
Then the next.
Within seconds, seventy people were looking toward him.
Jax remained standing.
"I'd like to formally admit the Fairy Kingdom of Kensington into the United Kingdoms."
A few murmurs moved through the chamber.
Most were favorable.
Several people nodded immediately.
One man did not.
King Thalorien Silverthorne leaned forward.
Jax noticed the faintest movement at the corner of the Elf King's mouth.
He knew that look.
He didn't like that look.
"And who," Thalorien asked with perfect seriousness, "would represent the Fairy Kingdom of Kensington?"
Jax looked at him.
"I would."
Thalorien nodded thoughtfully.
Far too thoughtfully.
"And what authority do you possess to represent a sovereign kingdom?"
Jax stared at him.
Thalorien stared back.
Completely composed.
Regal.
Ancient.
Wise.
And absolutely full of shit.
Jax slowly turned toward Llandra.
His wife had suddenly become fascinated by the table.
Her lips were pressed tightly together.
Jax looked back at her father.
Thalorien waited.
Jax sighed.
"I was recently named King of the Fairies."
The chamber exploded.
Questions came from three directions at once.
Someone laughed.
Someone else asked when that had happened.
Several people looked toward Llandra.
She finally lost the battle and started laughing.
Thalorien leaned back in his chair.
His expression remained perfectly dignified.
"You don't exactly look like a fairy."
"I get that a lot."
That made it worse.
Jax stared at him.
"You already knew."
"I did."
"You're enjoying this."
"Immensely."
Jax shook his head.
"I married into a terrible family."
Llandra finally looked up.
"You were warned."
More laughter rolled through the chamber.
Even Jax smiled.
Thalorien had known about the wedding.
Of course he had.
There were very few things involving his daughter that escaped the Elf King's attention.
And while Jax suspected the exact structure of his growing family would never have been Thalorien's personal preference, the King had never once made Llandra feel ashamed of choosing it.
He didn't need to understand every part of his daughter's marriage.
He only needed to look at her.
Thalorien had spent centuries learning to read people.
Reading Llandra wasn't difficult.
She was happy.
That was enough.
Thalorien raised one hand.
"I second the motion."
The humor faded just enough for the meaning behind the words to settle.
The King of Elarion wasn't joking now.
He was placing his support behind Jax.
The vote came quickly.
Overwhelmingly.
The Fairy Kingdom of Kensington became the newest member of the United Kingdoms.
Jax nodded.
"Thank you."
A voice somewhere farther down the table muttered—
"So which part of you gets mistaken for a fairy?"
Jax turned his head.
He couldn't immediately identify who had said it.
"Careful."
The room quieted slightly.
"You might force me to defend my reputation, and I'm not convinced this room is large enough."
There was a beat of silence.
Then laughter erupted again.
Llandra looked around the enormous chamber.
Slowly.
Judging the distance from one wall to the other.
Then she nodded.
Lexi did the same.
Very seriously.
As though conducting a legitimate architectural assessment.
Jax caught them.
"You're both terrible."
Llandra smiled.
Lexi shrugged.
"I didn't say anything."
"You didn't have to."
For a few seconds—
The tension disappeared.
Then General Soren Nightclaw stood.
And reality returned.
The canine General carried no stack of reports.
No dramatic bundle of documents.
Only five sheets of paper.
One for each target.
He placed them on the table.
"Three nights ago, one of our intelligence assets inside Alexandria intercepted an Imperial war council."
Jax knew the asset.
Yurina.
Most of the room did not.
That was intentional.
Soren continued.
"We have verified the recording. We have also independently confirmed unusual troop activity consistent with portions of what was discussed."
Vaelrith Moonshadow sat several chairs away.
The Elven spymaster gave a small nod.
That was enough.
Two of the most capable intelligence networks in the United Kingdoms agreed.
The room became very quiet.
Soren looked down at the first page.
"Five targets were selected."
He named them.
The reaction was immediate.
One mayor went pale.
A governor swore.
Several people began whispering to aides who weren't there.
Soren continued before anyone could interrupt.
"The Imperial King has ordered complete annihilation."
Nobody moved.
"No occupation."
He looked around the chamber.
"No surrender."
Another pause.
"No survivors."
The silence changed.
Soren didn't soften it.
"The recorded order specifically included civilians. Farmers. Merchants. Families."
His jaw tightened.
"Children."
The room erupted.
"We evacuate."
"Immediately."
"We can't evacuate five cities in time."
"We have thirty days."
"No, we don't."
Soren's voice cut through the room.
That stopped several conversations.
"The King gave his Generals thirty days to produce results. Preliminary orders were issued the same night."
He tapped the papers.
"Some of these forces may begin moving within days."
A mayor stood.
"Then we evacuate now."
"Where?"
"Anywhere!"
"And create five columns of refugees on roads the Empire may already be watching?"
"We reinforce the cities."
"With what troops?"
"We have troops."
"Not enough for five simultaneous defenses."
"Then concentrate them."
"And sacrifice the others?"
"No one said sacrifice."
"That's exactly what you're saying!"
Voices rose.
A governor demanded immediate fortification.
Someone else wanted civilians moved through the gate network.
Another pointed out that two of the targeted settlements had no dimensional gate.
A military commander proposed meeting the Imperial armies before they reached the cities.
Someone immediately asked which army.
Another asked how many.
No one had an answer.
"We strike first."
"Where?"
"Their staging areas."
"Which staging areas?"
"We find them."
"When?"
"Before they attack."
"Brilliant. Anything else?"
"Don't be an ass."
"We could abandon the settlements and destroy the roads behind us."
"Those are people's homes."
"They won't have homes if they're dead!"
The chamber became louder.
Seventy people.
Seventy responsibilities.
Seventy different versions of what losing looked like.
Jax listened.
Llandra did too.
She didn't interrupt.
Neither did Thalorien.
Vaelrith and Soren occasionally exchanged glances.
Kaelor Fangmere sat with his large arms folded, ears twitching toward different speakers.
Brannic looked increasingly like a dwarf reconsidering every decision that had led to attending a political meeting.
Lexi said nothing.
She watched.
Then one voice rose above the others.
"This is your fault."
The chamber quieted.
Slowly.
Heads turned.
Benedict stood near the far side of the table.
Once, his influence would have carried considerably more weight.
He had been powerful.
Connected.
A merchant whose money opened doors.
The United Kingdoms had changed.
Benedict hadn't changed with it.
Not enough.
His eyes were fixed on Jax.
"If you hadn't pushed these kingdoms toward independence, none of this would be happening."
A few people immediately protested.
Benedict raised his voice.
"We paid taxes before."
"So?"
"We had obligations to Alexandria, and Alexandria had obligations to us."
Someone laughed bitterly.
"Is that what you called it?"
Benedict ignored him.
"We had stability."
That word drew more reactions.
"Stability?"
"Tell that to the slaves."
"Tell that to the Beastkin."
Benedict's face tightened.
"I'm talking about war."
"So are we."
"This war exists because we rebelled."
A chair scraped.
The Mayor of Frostveil stood.
He was old.
Old enough that nobody in the room needed to ask whether he remembered Imperial rule.
He had lived most of his life beneath it.
"He's right."
That silenced the room more effectively than shouting had.
Even Benedict looked surprised.
The old Mayor rested both hands on the table.
"This war is happening because we left."
Benedict's expression shifted.
Vindication.
For approximately two seconds.
Then the Mayor continued.
"But you have confused obedience with peace."
Benedict's expression changed.
"I am eighty years old."
The Mayor looked around the chamber.
"For most of those years, I watched Alexandria take what it wanted from us."
His voice wasn't loud.
It didn't need to be.
"We paid."
"We obeyed."
"We sent what was demanded."
"Coin."
"Food."
"Materials."
"People."
He looked toward Benedict.
"And every year, we were told that was the price of stability."
Nobody interrupted.
"We had poor families freezing through winter while wagons carried resources south."
His eyes moved toward Jax.
"Then things changed."
Jax didn't particularly like where this was going.
The Mayor continued anyway.
"Trade came."
"Roads improved."
"Food became cheaper."
"Work became easier to find."
"Our people began traveling."
"Merchants came to us instead of leaving us."
He looked around the room.
"I have seen more prosperity in the last few years than I saw in the decades before them."
Benedict shook his head.
"Prosperity doesn't matter if the Empire burns your city."
"No."
The Mayor nodded.
"It doesn't."
That surprised Benedict again.
"But neither does a city matter if the people living in it have no say over their own lives."
The Mayor straightened.
"Alexandria did not give us peace."
He looked directly at Benedict.
"It gave us permission to exist as long as we remained useful."
The room remained silent.
"Now they want us frightened enough to ask for that permission again."
His eyes hardened.
"I won't."
Someone farther down the table spoke.
"Neither will I."
Another voice followed.
"Then Benedict can go back if he misses them so much."
A few people laughed.
Someone else added—
"Funny how you found your principles after losing your power."
Benedict's face reddened.
"Enough."
Jax didn't shout.
He didn't need to.
The room settled.
Not instantly.
But enough.
Jax stood.
"He gets to speak."
That earned several surprised looks.
Benedict's was among them.
Jax looked around the table.
"I disagree with him."
He glanced toward Benedict.
"Completely."
Benedict almost smiled despite himself.
Jax continued.
"But if the only people allowed to speak in this room are the people saying things we want to hear, then there's no point in having a council."
Nobody answered.
"He has a seat."
Jax gestured toward Benedict's chair.
"That means he gets a voice."
Then he looked directly at him.
"Finish what you were saying."
Benedict stared at Jax.
For the first time since standing—
He seemed uncertain.
"I..."
He looked around the chamber.
Some of the hostility remained.
But no one interrupted.
Benedict slowly sat.
"I think we're moving too quickly."
Jax nodded.
"Okay."
"I think there are people who would accept Imperial authority again if it prevented this."
"Probably."
Several people shifted at Jax's answer.
Benedict noticed.
"So you admit it."
"I admit some people are scared."
Jax shrugged.
"They should be."
That wasn't the response Benedict expected.
"Five armies are coming to kill everyone they find. Being scared seems pretty reasonable."
A few people nodded.
Jax continued.
"But Alexandria's terms aren't on this table."
Benedict frowned.
"What do you mean?"
"They didn't send terms."
Jax pointed toward Soren's five pages.
"They didn't say surrender."
He paused.
"They said no survivors."
Benedict looked at the papers.
Jax let him.
"So if you want us to discuss whether independence was a mistake, we can discuss it."
He looked around the room.
"Later."
Then back to Benedict.
"Right now, I'd rather keep those people alive long enough to have the argument."
That ended it.
Not because Benedict had been defeated.
Because there was nothing useful left to say.
Jax sat.
For several seconds, nobody spoke.
Then King Thalorien leaned forward.
"What do you suggest, Jax?"
And suddenly—
Every eye was back on him.
Jax hated when that happened.
Seventy people.
Kings.
Generals.
Mayors.
Governors.
Merchants.
All waiting for him to say something brilliant.
Jax looked at the five pages.
Then at the maps spread across the table.
"I don't know."
Silence.
Brannic snorted.
Someone looked genuinely alarmed.
Jax shrugged.
"I can give you a plan right now if you want."
Nobody spoke.
"It'll probably be a bad one."
That earned a few confused looks.
Llandra smiled.
She knew where he was going.
Jax tapped the first target.
"I know the Empire wants five victories."
He tapped the next.
"I know they picked targets they think they can overwhelm."
Another.
"I know preliminary orders are already moving."
He looked toward Soren.
"What don't we know?"
Soren answered immediately.
"Exact troop numbers."
"Good."
Jax looked toward Vaelrith.
"Anything else?"
"Composition."
"Meaning?"
"Infantry. Cavalry. Battle mages. Siege equipment. Magical beasts. Commanders."
Jax nodded.
Llandra joined in.
"Approach routes."
"Terrain."
"Weather."
"Local defenses."
"Evacuation capacity."
"Food."
"Water."
"Nearby reinforcements."
"Gate access," Kaelor added.
"Adventurers already in the regions."
Brannic grunted.
"Weapons."
Jax pointed at him.
"Exactly."
He looked around the chamber.
"So no."
He sat back.
"I don't have a plan."
Thalorien smiled faintly.
"You seem remarkably comfortable admitting that."
"Because pretending I know something doesn't magically make me know it."
Brannic nodded.
"Usually just makes ye look like an idiot."
"Thank you, Brannic."
"Always happy to help."
A few people laughed.
Jax continued.
"We need information."
He looked around the chamber.
"And we need fewer people."
That laughter stopped.
A governor frowned.
"Fewer?"
"Seventy people cannot plan a war."
Someone opened his mouth.
Jax raised a hand.
"Before anyone takes that personally, seventy people can't agree on lunch."
That got a few reluctant smiles.
"We're also assuming Alexandria doesn't have spies."
Vaelrith's expression changed.
That got everyone's attention.
Jax gestured toward Soren.
"We know their plans because one of our people got into a room they thought was secure."
Several people understood immediately.
"So let's not be arrogant enough to assume they can't do the same thing to us."
Vaelrith nodded.
"A smaller council."
"Much smaller."
"How small?" Thalorien asked.
Jax considered it.
"Small enough to control information."
He looked around.
"Large enough that we don't leave out the people who actually know what they're talking about."
That started another discussion.
But this one was different.
Focused.
Names were proposed.
Qualifications questioned.
Responsibilities considered.
Some people volunteered.
Others declined.
A few nominations were rejected because the person had authority but no useful expertise for the problem at hand.
Jax didn't care about titles.
He cared about what someone could do.
Thalorien was obvious.
A King.
An experienced ruler.
And someone capable of committing Elven military resources without waiting for permission.
Vaelrith was equally obvious.
Intelligence.
General Soren Nightclaw joined him.
The canine General's network had helped make Yurina's mission possible in the first place. If the Empire moved, Soren needed to know.
Kaelor Fangmere earned a seat through the Adventurers Guild.
The Guild had fighters spread across the United Kingdoms, communication channels outside conventional government, and local knowledge no military report could completely replace.
Brannic was proposed.
The Dwarf frowned.
"Why?"
Jax stared at him.
"We're going to war."
"Aye."
"We need weapons."
"Aye."
"Armor."
"Aye."
"Repairs."
"Aye."
"Production estimates."
Brannic's eyes narrowed.
"Careful."
"Material availability."
"You're pushing it."
"Maybe emergency manufacturing."
Brannic sighed.
"Fine."
Jax smiled.
"Congratulations. You're important."
"I preferred drinking."
Mayor Halvren Thistlefox was added.
That one surprised a few people.
It would have surprised Jax once.
Not anymore.
Halvren had spent years being exactly the sort of politician Jax disliked.
Opportunistic.
Self-interested.
Far too comfortable looking the other way when looking away was profitable.
Then Solmere changed.
Somewhere along the way—
Halvren had changed with it.
Now when Solmere had a problem, he showed up.
Not always bravely.
Not always gracefully.
But he showed up.
And Jax trusted him.
That mattered more than what Halvren had once been.
The mayors and governors representing the threatened regions took several more seats.
Military command filled others.
Logistics mattered.
Transportation mattered.
Civilian evacuation mattered.
Food mattered.
Medicine mattered.
Eventually—
They reached seventeen.
Thalorien looked toward Jax.
"One remains."
Jax nodded.
"I want Llandra."
No one objected.
Not one person.
Llandra looked toward him.
Jax didn't explain.
He didn't need to.
He hadn't asked for Bunny.
Or Zee.
Or Nyxian.
Or Pixelle.
Or Lexi.
No one would have accused him of favoritism if he had.
At this point, most of the room probably would have accepted every Vixen he named without question.
Jax didn't name them.
This wasn't about who he loved.
It wasn't about who belonged to his family.
It was about who belonged at this table.
When Jax went into battle, Llandra stood beside him.
She saw things he missed.
Questioned assumptions he hadn't realized he'd made.
Found weaknesses in plans that looked perfect until she touched them.
Jax trusted her with his life.
More importantly—
He trusted her with everyone else's.
"Eighteen," Thalorien said.
Jax nodded.
"Eighteen."
The larger council approved it.
One by one, the other chairs emptied.
Some reluctantly.
Others gratefully.
Benedict paused before leaving.
He looked toward Jax.
For a moment, neither said anything.
Then Benedict gave a small nod.
Jax returned it.
Nothing had been resolved between them.
It didn't need to be.
Not today.
Lexi approached Jax before leaving.
"You didn't nominate me."
"No."
She smiled.
"Good."
Jax raised an eyebrow.
"This isn't what I do."
"I know."
Lexi glanced toward the maps.
"At least not yet."
Jax smiled.
"Give us ten minutes. We'll probably create a logistics nightmare."
"Then send for me."
"I will."
She kissed his cheek.
Then left.
No offense.
No wounded pride.
No assumption that loving Jax entitled her to a chair.
Jax watched her go.
Then looked toward Llandra.
She was already moving maps.
Of course she was.
The doors closed.
Seventy became eighteen.
The room felt completely different.
No audience.
No speeches.
No politics that didn't matter to the immediate problem.
Just people.
Maps.
Five targets.
And a clock already moving.
Vaelrith stood and crossed toward the windows.
Soren checked the doors.
Kaelor pulled one of the regional maps closer.
Brannic found a chair that looked slightly more comfortable than the others and claimed it without asking.
Halvren opened a ledger.
Thalorien remained at the table.
Llandra stood beside Jax.
The place she always stood when things became dangerous.
Everyone looked toward him.
Again.
Jax sighed.
Thalorien's mouth twitched.
"Now will you tell us your plan?"
"No."
Brannic leaned back.
"Excellent start."
Several people stared at Jax.
Thalorien merely waited.
Jax looked down at the five Imperial targets.
"I told you."
He moved the first map into the center.
"I don't have one."
A governor frowned.
"Then why are we here?"
"To build one."
Jax looked around the table.
"Together."
He pointed toward the map.
"The Empire already made its first mistake."
Soren leaned forward.
"What?"
"They picked their targets before we picked our response."
Llandra's eyes narrowed.
Jax continued.
"That means they committed first."
He tapped the map.
"We know where they have to go."
Another tap.
"We know what they think they want."
Another.
"We know they expect these places to be weak."
Thalorien nodded slowly.
"And you intend to use that."
"I intend to figure out whether we can."
Jax looked toward Llandra.
She smiled.
Not because she knew the plan.
Because there wasn't one yet.
That meant everything was still open.
Every assumption could be challenged.
Every weakness found.
Every stupid idea killed before it killed someone else.
Jax looked around the table.
"Before anybody tells me how we're going to win, I want to know everything that can make us lose."
The room went silent.
Llandra reached for the first map.
"Terrain."
Jax nodded.
She unfolded it across the table.
Mountains.
Roads.
Rivers.
Forests.
Villages.
Every line represented something that could save lives.
Or cost them.
Jax leaned over the map.
"Good."
Eighteen people leaned in with him.
"Let's start there."