Night fell heavily over the camp of Caldryn.
The slaves were herded into rough wooden enclosures, guarded by rotating patrols and torchlight that barely pushed back the darkness. Ace sat against the wooden wall, wrists loosely bound, eyes half-closed—but fully alert.
Across the enclosure, Amagi gave the smallest nod.
It was time.
The plan was simple: create a quiet distraction, slip past the weaker eastern patrol, and vanish into the rocky terrain beyond the valley. They had gathered enough information about troop numbers and supply routes—but something still felt incomplete.
As the guards shifted positions, Ace subtly tightened his muscles and snapped his restraints using controlled force—just enough to avoid noise. Amagi did the same.
They moved silently, weaving through shadows using the principles of Shark's Fin—fluid, precise, never rigid. Two guards stood near the gate. Amagi stepped forward first, striking pressure points with calculated efficiency. Ace caught the second guard before he could shout.
The gate creaked open.
"Move quietly," Ace whispered to the nearest group of slaves. "Follow us if you want freedom."
A few hesitated.
Then they followed.
They were almost clear of the outer perimeter when the ground trembled.
Heavy footsteps.
Ace turned.
The massive soldier from the training yard stood before them.
Even in the dim torchlight, his frame was overwhelming—broad shoulders, thick arms, presence like a wall.
For a moment, no one moved.
Amagi shifted slightly into Snake's Tail stance.
The giant raised a hand.
"Relax," he said in a deep, controlled voice. "If I wanted you stopped, you wouldn't have reached this far."
Ace didn't lower his guard. "Why help us?"
The soldier glanced at the slaves behind them—thin, exhausted, afraid.
"Because I am not loyal to Caldryn," he answered. "I am loyal to my people."
He stepped aside and crushed the lock on a nearby slave enclosure with one hand, freeing more prisoners.
"I was forced into their ranks," he continued. "Strength is respected here—but obedience is demanded. I give them one. Not the other."
Amagi studied him carefully. "You noticed us."
"You move like warriors pretending to be weak," the giant replied. "No slave carries themselves like that."
A horn sounded faintly in the distance. A patrol had discovered the missing guards.
"We don't have time," Ace said.
The soldier nodded. "There is a southern ravine. No patrols after midnight."
As the slaves began fleeing under his direction, the giant turned back to Ace.
"You came for information," he said. "Then hear this before you leave."
His expression darkened.
"Caldryn is not preparing to strike Valerion."
Ace froze.
"They are planning an attack on Eldoria."
The words hit harder than any blow.
Amagi's eyes sharpened instantly.
"The supply buildup, the troop formations—they are positioned for western movement," the soldier continued. "Your homeland is the target."
The horn sounded louder now.
"You have what you need," the giant said. "Go."
Ace met his gaze. "What is your name?"
The soldier paused.
"Gorath."
Then he turned back toward the camp—toward the approaching patrols.
Not to flee.
But to delay them.
Ace and Amagi didn't waste another second. Guiding the freed slaves into the ravine, they disappeared into the night.
Behind them, the sounds of impact echoed through the valley.
And ahead of them—
War was no longer a rumor.
It was coming for Eldoria.