The Shadow connection took hold.
Prominence disappeared.
Jax appeared somewhere else entirely.
The first thing he heard was shouting.
The second was the unmistakable sound of something very large hitting something equally solid.
Jax turned.
A Minotaur drove his shoulder into an Imperial shield wall.
The formation bent.
But it didn't break.
Three more Minotaurs slammed into it beside him.
Spears thrust between shields.
One caught a Minotaur across the shoulder.
Another punched into the chest of a Shadow Beast and passed harmlessly through as the creature dissolved into black vapor.
An Elven volley sailed overhead.
Imperial shields rose.
Arrows hammered against wood and steel.
The line held.
"Well."
Jax summoned Peacemaker.
"Looks like I found the right place."
A massive Minotaur several yards away turned toward him.
Blood covered one side of his armor.
Most of it didn't appear to be his.
"Darquebane!"
"Status?"
The Minotaur pointed toward the Imperial lines.
"Trapped."
Jax looked.
Thousands of Imperial soldiers filled the ground ahead.
They had reorganized into tight defensive formations, their backs protected by the broken crossing and the terrain surrounding it.
The bridge was gone.
Nothing remained except shattered supports and pieces of stone scattered along the canyon below.
"Doesn't look like they know that."
"They know."
The Minotaur tightened his grip on his axe.
"They simply refuse to break."
Jax looked closer.
Fang moved along the Imperial flank.
The enormous Shadow serpent struck.
Soldiers scattered as his tail swept through them.
Others collapsed as venom entered their bodies.
Then the Empire closed the opening.
Again.
A large insect Shadow charged.
Spears brought it down.
Another Shadow took its place.
The Imperial line bent.
And held.
"They're good."
"The General is good," the Minotaur replied. "Every time we open their lines, he closes them. Every time we force them back, he reorganizes."
"How many?"
"Seven thousand. Perhaps less now."
Jax looked toward the broken bridge.
"And the ones who crossed?"
The Minotaur smiled.
"Finished."
Jax followed his gaze.
Across the canyon, the battlefield looked very different.
Bodies covered the ground.
Imperial weapons lay scattered among them.
Hundreds of prisoners sat under guard.
UK soldiers moved among the wounded.
And near the remains of the bridge stood a woman with green hair.
Sanctaris rested in Zee's hand.
Her clothes were dirty.
Her hair was a mess.
She looked exhausted.
And she was standing.
Jax smiled.
"How many made it across?"
"Between twenty-five hundred and three thousand."
"And they beat them?"
The Minotaur snorted.
"They destroyed them."
Jax's smile widened.
"Of course they did."
Zee turned.
Even across the distance, Jax knew the moment she saw him.
She raised Sanctaris.
Jax raised Peacemaker in return.
Then he looked down into the canyon.
No bridge.
He looked at Zee.
Then back at the canyon.
"Huh."
The Minotaur followed his gaze.
"That's our other problem."
"No."
Jax dismissed Peacemaker.
"That's easy."
Darkness gathered beside him.
A Gryphon stepped from Jax's shadow.
Gryph stretched his wings.
Jax pointed across the canyon.
"Get Zee."
Gryph launched.
The Minotaur watched him go.
"That's one."
"Yep."
More darkness spread across the battlefield.
Flying Shadows emerged.
Winged beasts.
Large insects.
Creatures the Minotaur didn't recognize.
Some had fought earlier and been destroyed.
Now they returned.
Whole.
Ready.
The Minotaur slowly smiled.
"Oh."
"Yeah."
Gryph crossed the canyon in seconds.
Zee watched him descend.
She laughed.
Then climbed onto his back.
Around her, UK soldiers were already moving.
Mages mounted large flying insects.
Elven archers climbed onto winged Shadows.
Beastkin followed.
Fairies simply took to the air themselves.
The first group rose.
Then another.
Then another.
The Imperial army noticed.
Orders echoed through their ranks.
Archers turned.
Formations shifted.
Shields that had been facing the Minotaurs rotated toward the sky.
The Minotaur beside Jax stared.
"They're adjusting."
"Yep."
"They'll leave openings."
"Yep."
The Minotaur looked at him.
Jax smiled.
"That's the idea."
General Drell saw the attack developing.
"ARCHERS!"
Hundreds turned.
"Rear formation! Rotate!"
Soldiers moved.
Quickly.
Efficiently.
Drell had spent his life turning men into formations and formations into weapons.
A battlefield was order.
Angles.
Timing.
Discipline.
Every attack had an answer.
Every weakness could be reinforced.
Every formation could become another.
Even after the bridge collapsed.
Even after nearly three thousand of his soldiers had been cut off.
Even after much of his mage corps had disappeared into the canyon with it.
He had restored order.
He had stopped the United Kingdoms' advance.
He had held.
And he would continue to hold.
"LOOSE!"
Arrows filled the sky.
Gryph banked.
Zee raised Sanctaris.
Golden light erupted around him.
A barrier formed.
Arrows struck it.
Bounced.
Fell.
More barriers appeared.
Around another Shadow.
Then another.
Then another.
UK mages raised their hands from the backs of flying creatures.
Fire answered arrows.
Lightning struck downward.
Stone and ice followed.
The Imperial ranks scattered.
"REFORM!"
They did.
Drell pointed.
"Second line forward! Archers behind! Shields above!"
The army responded.
Jax watched from across the field.
"He's good."
The Minotaur grunted.
"I told you."
A Shadow insect fell from the sky.
Zee's barrier caught another.
Gryph swept low over the Imperial formation.
Soldiers beneath him suddenly stumbled.
Their movements slowed.
A shield rose too late.
A sword turned too slowly.
A Beastkin rider dropped from another Shadow and hit the ground among them.
The formation buckled.
Drell moved soldiers into the opening.
Again.
Jax sighed.
"Okay."
The Minotaur looked at him.
"What?"
"I have someone who doesn't really understand formations."
Darkness spread.
Cold followed.
The temperature dropped hard enough for Jax's breath to appear.
Something enormous emerged behind him.
Loki.
The Frost Giant rolled his shoulders.
Imperial soldiers stared.
The Minotaur looked up.
Then farther up.
"Where have you been hiding him?"
Jax considered that.
"Honestly?"
Loki roared.
Jax pointed toward the Imperial line.
"Go."
The Frost Giant charged.
The ground shook beneath him.
Drell saw him coming.
"PIKES!"
Soldiers moved.
Spears lowered.
Shields locked.
The formation braced.
Loki hit it.
He did not go around.
He went through.
Shields shattered.
Men flew.
Spears snapped.
The Frost Giant continued forward as Minotaurs charged behind him.
Fang struck from the side.
Shadows poured into the opening.
The Imperial line finally moved backward.
Then stopped.
Drell reorganized them.
Again.
Jax stared.
"Okay."
The Minotaur was breathing heavily now.
"Still think he's good?"
"Unfortunately."
Jax looked upward.
Zee and Gryph crossed overhead.
Sanctaris flashed.
Another barrier appeared around a group of airborne soldiers.
Below them, Drell's army shifted again.
Still disciplined.
Still dangerous.
Still holding.
Jax smiled.
"Let's see him reorganize this."
The Minotaur turned.
Jax raised one hand.
"Dante."
The battlefield went dark.
Not from magic.
From shadow.
Something enormous passed between the soldiers and the sun.
Heads lifted.
UK soldiers looked upward.
Imperial soldiers did the same.
The Flame Dragon descended.
Dante spread his wings.
More than fifty feet of dragon swept over the battlefield.
For one strange moment, everyone stopped.
Then Dante roared.
The sound rolled across the canyon.
Jax looked at the Minotaur.
"Now."
The Minotaur lifted his axe.
"ADVANCE!"
Dante breathed.
Hellfire fell from the sky.
The first pass tore across the Imperial formation.
Soldiers scattered.
Shields offered nothing.
Armor glowed.
Men screamed.
Drell shouted orders.
"SPREAD! SPREAD! DO NOT BREAK FORMATION!"
It was impossible.
The formation existed because soldiers stood together.
Dante punished them for standing together.
When they spread—
The United Kingdoms attacked.
Minotaurs charged.
Elves fired.
Beastkin surged through openings.
Fang struck anyone trying to close them.
Loki smashed another shield wall apart.
Shadows advanced beside living soldiers.
Then Dante banked.
Drell saw him turning.
"REFORM!"
His soldiers tried.
Gryph swept overhead.
Their movements slowed.
Zee raised Sanctaris.
Barriers formed around the airborne UK troops.
Imperial arrows rose.
They struck light.
UK magic came down.
Fire.
Lightning.
Ice.
Stone.
The Imperial army had spent the battle looking forward.
Now death came from above.
Dante made another pass.
Hellfire carved through the center.
The formation split.
The Minotaurs entered the gap.
The Empire tried to retreat.
They couldn't.
The canyon waited behind them.
Soldiers attempting to move along its edge found UK forces descending from the sky.
Zee and Gryph landed ahead of one group.
Imperial soldiers charged.
Zee slammed Sanctaris into the ground.
A barrier appeared.
The soldiers hit it.
Stopped.
Elven arrows fell behind them.
They turned.
Beastkin were already there.
Another group tried to move toward higher ground.
Fairies descended.
Vines erupted from the soil.
Flying Shadows dropped soldiers behind them.
Every route became another enemy.
Every direction became another attack.
No bridge.
No retreat.
No way out.
Jax walked forward.
Peacemaker rested against his shoulder.
The UK army advanced around him.
Not behind him.
Around him.
Minotaurs.
Elves.
Beastkin.
Shadows.
Mages.
Soldiers from kingdoms that had once barely trusted one another.
Now they moved together.
Dante passed overhead.
Jax barely looked up.
He knew what Dante would do.
He knew what Zee would do.
He knew what the Minotaurs would do.
He didn't need to command every movement.
That was the point.
A Shadow Knight fell.
Jax summoned it again.
It rose beside him.
"Go."
It went.
An Imperial officer charged.
Jax blocked the sword with Peacemaker.
Turned.
Struck.
The officer fell.
Another came.
Jax moved past him.
Infernal Requiem appeared in his free hand.
One shot.
The man dropped.
Jax kept walking.
The Imperial formation continued collapsing.
And at its center—
General Drell watched everything he had built disappear.
His army had survived the bridge.
It had survived the loss of its mages.
It had survived the Shadows.
It had survived the Minotaurs.
He had reorganized.
Adapted.
Held.
Then Darquebane arrived.
And the battlefield stopped obeying rules.
Drell drew his sword.
"JAX DARQUEBANE!"
Jax stopped.
The fighting continued around them.
Drell stepped forward.
Several officers remained with him.
Their armor was different.
Darker.
Marks ran across exposed skin.
One lieutenant's eyes carried a faint unnatural glow.
Jax noticed.
Filed it away.
Drell raised his sword.
"You think this changes anything?"
Jax tilted his head.
Drell's voice rose.
"You don't understand the power standing against you! You don't understand what supports the Empire!"
Jax said nothing.
"We have the favor of Gods, Darquebane! Powers beyond anything these pathetic kingdoms possess!"
That got Jax's attention.
Gods?
Drell smiled.
"Not even you can stand against—"
Infernal Requiem cleared its holster.
BANG.
Drell stopped.
The lieutenant beside him froze.
For one impossible second, General Drell remained standing.
Then the lieutenant realized he could see Jax.
Not around the General.
Through him.
Through the space where part of Drell's head had been.
The General collapsed.
Silence spread around them.
Not across the battlefield.
Just there.
A small circle of stunned Imperial soldiers and officers staring at the body of one of the Twelve Generals of the Empire.
Jax spun Infernal Requiem once.
Then slid it back into its holster.
"Yeah."
He looked at the remaining officers.
"That's why I carry God Slayer weapons."
Loki roared somewhere behind him.
The moment ended.
A Beastkin slammed into one of the officers.
Fang struck another.
The UK line surged forward.
And without Drell—
The Empire finally broke.
Some surrendered immediately.
Swords fell.
Spears dropped.
Hands rose.
Others ran.
Some fought harder.
Officers screamed contradictory orders.
Units that had moved as one for hours suddenly became groups of frightened men trying to decide for themselves what survival looked like.
"WEAPONS DOWN!" a UK commander shouted. "SURRENDER AND YOU WILL NOT BE HARMED!"
Some listened.
Others didn't.
A group of Imperial soldiers reached the canyon.
They stopped.
Behind them came Beastkin and Elves.
Above them circled flying Shadows.
Dante banked in the distance.
One Imperial soldier looked back.
Then down.
A UK soldier lowered his weapon.
"Stop!"
The Imperial soldier stepped off the edge.
The UK soldier froze.
Another followed.
Then another.
"What are they doing?"
"STOP!"
An Elf ran forward.
"WE'LL TAKE YOUR SURRENDER!"
A dozen Imperial soldiers jumped.
Then more.
Jax turned at the shouting.
He watched men disappear over the edge.
No one attacked them.
No one needed to.
"Why?" a young Beastkin asked.
No one answered.
The United Kingdoms had spent the day trying to defeat these men.
Now their soldiers were screaming at them not to die.
Some Imperial troops finally stopped.
Weapons fell.
Hands rose.
Others chose the canyon.
Jax stared for several seconds.
Then looked away.
"Take anyone who surrenders."
The Minotaur commander nodded.
"And the others?"
Jax looked toward the broken bridge.
Toward the canyon.
Toward men who had been taught that defeat offered nothing worth living for.
"We don't kill anyone who stops fighting."
The Minotaur lowered his head.
"Understood."
Dante landed.
The earth shook.
Several newly surrendered Imperial soldiers nearly reconsidered their decision.
Jax looked up at the Flame Dragon.
"Show-off."
Dante snorted smoke.
Gryph landed nearby.
Zee slid from his back.
Jax turned.
For a moment, neither spoke.
Then Zee walked up and wrapped her arms around him.
Jax hugged her back.
"You okay?"
"I'm fine."
He looked toward the battlefield she had already won.
"Nearly three thousand?"
Zee smiled tiredly.
"I had help."
"Yeah."
Jax kissed her forehead.
"So did I."
A Tele-Stone began to glow.
The Minotaur commander lifted it.
Listened.
Then smiled.
"Prominence."
At Prominence, the fighting had ended.
Rootzilla stood near the shattered remains of the Imperial center.
The Ancient Root Dragon was covered in dirt, broken arrows, and pieces of equipment that had become tangled in his roots.
He seemed very pleased with himself.
Nyxian stared up at him.
"I want one."
Pixelle hovered beside her.
"You cannot have him."
"I wasn't asking you."
"You still cannot have him."
Nyxian considered.
"Can I ride him?"
Pixelle looked toward Rootzilla.
Then toward Nyxian.
"No."
"You don't know that."
"I know enough."
Nearby, Imperial soldiers knelt with their weapons piled several yards away.
Shadows surrounded them.
Not attacking.
Watching.
Warden moved among them.
A Shadow Knight dragged another sword onto the growing pile.
An Imperial soldier flinched as it passed.
Warden stopped.
His burning eyes turned toward the man.
The soldier raised both hands higher.
Warden continued walking.
Llandra stood overlooking the battlefield.
Starpiercer rested in her hand.
Reports arrived one after another.
Greenhaven.
Victory.
Riverside.
Victory.
The forest.
Victory.
Prominence.
Victory.
Campbell still stood.
Llandra closed her eyes.
For only a moment.
Five Imperial armies had crossed into the United Kingdoms.
Four had been broken.
Tens of thousands of soldiers had been stopped.
Towns had been saved.
The United Kingdoms had held.
Nyxian walked beside her.
"So."
Llandra opened her eyes.
"We won."
Nyxian's usual smile didn't come.
"Yeah."
Pixelle landed on Llandra's shoulder.
For once, the Fairy Queen had nothing mischievous to say.
Llandra looked toward the prisoners.
Then toward Rootzilla.
Then across the battlefield at Elves, Beastkin, humans, Fairies, Shadows, and soldiers from kingdoms that had stood together when the Empire came.
They had won.
She should have felt relief.
Maybe tomorrow she would.
A Tele-Stone pulsed.
Llandra lifted it.
Soren's voice came through.
"All fronts report secure."
Llandra released a breath.
"Casualties?"
A pause.
"Still being counted."
She knew what he wasn't saying.
"Lisbeth?"
Another pause.
Longer.
"We don't know yet."
Llandra looked down.
Nyxian didn't ask.
Neither did Pixelle.
They already knew enough.
The War Room received the final reports before sunset.
Greenhaven held.
Prominence held.
The forest held.
Riverside held.
Campbell held.
Imperial formations had collapsed.
Thousands surrendered.
Others fled.
Others would never return home.
The five armies sent to break the United Kingdoms no longer existed as fighting forces.
King Thalorien stood beside Vaelrith Moonshadow.
Soren remained over the maps.
Kaelor Fangmere sat for the first time all day.
No one cheered.
A communication officer looked around the room.
"The War of Five Fronts is over."
Silence.
Thalorien stared at the five positions marked across the map.
Three days earlier, the United Kingdoms had expected five armies of five thousand.
Then the Empire doubled them.
Fifty thousand soldiers.
Five simultaneous invasions.
And still—
They had held.
Not because one kingdom had been stronger.
Not because one army had defeated five.
Not even because one man had done everything.
Elves had fought beside Beastkin.
Fairies had hidden Minotaurs.
Mages had fought beneath the protection of Shadows.
Adventurers had sabotaged roads and bridges.
Soldiers had held towns they had never seen before.
Generals had trusted commanders from kingdoms that had once been strangers.
And Jax Darquebane had moved between them.
Never staying where he was no longer needed.
Vaelrith stared at the map.
"Four armies destroyed."
Soren nodded.
"And the fifth?"
No one answered immediately.
Because the fifth had been defeated too.
Eventually.
But before it fell—
It had reached Lisbeth.
The United Kingdoms had won the War of Five Fronts.
Lisbeth still burned.
And no one in the War Room felt like celebrating.