The aftermath of the safe house attack rippled through the Shadow Hunter network for days.
Garrett withdrew his cooperation entirely, taking his remaining family and disappearing into Eredor's undercity despite Selene's offers of better protection. Kaelen didn't blame him—how could he, when they'd failed so spectacularly to keep the promised safety?
Two of the injured Shadow Hunters died from their wounds, bringing the total casualties to five Hunters and one civilian child. Lia worked herself to exhaustion performing healing rituals and purification work, trying to save everyone she could.
And Marcus, wherever he was sailing with his two Forbidden Blades, remained silent. No messages, no demands, no gloating. Just the oppressive knowledge that he was coming, and when he arrived, everything would change.
"We're reacting again," Kaelen said during a strategy session three days after the attack. "Marcus hits us, we respond, he hits back harder. We need to break the cycle."
"How?" Selene asked. She looked tired—a first for the usually unflappable Hunter commander. "We've accelerated site cleansing, fortified positions, increased patrols. What else can we do?"
"We stop playing defense and start attacking his actual power base." Kaelen pointed at the map, at locations they'd identified through interrogations and surveillance. "These three warehouses—they're his major supply depots in Eredor. Weapons, corrupted materials, ritual components. We hit all three simultaneously, cripple his logistics."
"That would require dividing our forces significantly," Ronan pointed out. "We'd be vulnerable if he has forces we haven't identified."
"We're vulnerable anyway," Kaelen argued. "At least this way we're dictating terms instead of reacting to his."
"And if we take heavy casualties?" another Hunter asked. "We're already down five people. Can we afford to lose more?"
The question hung in the air, uncomfortable and necessary.
"Can we afford not to?" Lia interjected. "Every day we delay, Marcus gets closer with Hearteater. Every site we leave uncleansed is more corruption poisoning the city. The cost of action might be high, but the cost of inaction is guaranteed defeat."
Selene studied the map in silence. Finally: "We do it. But smart. Hit the warehouses when they're minimally staffed, extract intelligence along with supply denial. Precision strikes, not pitched battles."
"When?" Kaelen asked.
"Three days. That gives us time to scout properly, prepare contingencies, rest our injured." Selene's silver eyes swept the room. "This is escalation. Once we do this, there's no going back to smaller operations. Marcus will respond with everything he has. Everyone understand?"
Nods around the table. Grim faces, determined eyes.
"Then let's make it count," Selene said.
That evening found Kaelen and Lia in what had become their usual spot—the warehouse roof, watching the city lights flicker to life. But tonight felt different. Heavier.
"Are you scared?" Lia asked quietly.
"Terrified," Kaelen admitted. "Not of fighting. Of making the wrong call and getting people killed."
"That's leadership." Lia shifted closer, her shoulder warm against his. "The weight of other people's lives."
"I never wanted to be a leader."
"Neither did I. But here we are." She took his hand, fingers intertwining. "Master Elena used to say that true leaders don't seek power—they accept responsibility when no one else will."
"Your master was wise."
"She was. And she was also deeply flawed, made terrible mistakes, and died because she pushed too hard." Lia's grip tightened. "I don't want that for you. For us."
"Us," Kaelen repeated, tasting the word. "I like the sound of that."
"Good. Because you're stuck with me now." Lia turned to face him fully. "Whatever happens with these warehouse raids, whatever Marcus throws at us when he returns—we handle it together. No heroic sacrifices, no lone wolf nonsense. Promise me."
"I promise," Kaelen said. "As long as you promise the same. No burning yourself out to save me."
"Deal." She sealed it with a kiss, soft and lingering.
They sat in comfortable silence, stealing these quiet moments before the coming storm. Kaelen's mind wandered to the warehouse raids, running scenarios, calculating risks. Three targets, limited forces, high stakes.
"Kaelen," Lia said eventually. "There's something I need to tell you. About the resonance technique."
"What about it?"
"It's getting stronger. Easier. But there's a side effect I didn't mention before." She took a breath. "When we perform extended resonance, I can feel your Shadow Scars. Not just observe them—actually feel them, like they're partially mine. And I think... I think some of the corruption is starting to transfer."
Kaelen went very still. "You're accumulating Scars?"
"Not Scars exactly. More like... echoes. Shadows of shadows. They're not progressing the way yours do, but they're there." She showed him her arm, and in the dim light, Kaelen could just make out faint dark lines—nowhere near as pronounced as his, but definitely present.
"Why didn't you tell me sooner?"
"Because I knew you'd want to stop using the technique, and it's too valuable to abandon." Lia met his eyes. "I'm making an informed choice, Kaelen. The resonance is our best weapon against Marcus. If it costs me some echo corruption, that's a price I'm willing to pay."
"But what if it's not just echoes?" Kaelen demanded. "What if prolonged use actually transfers your corruption? What if you start accumulating real Scars?"
"Then we deal with it. Together." She cupped his face. "I'm not walking away from you because the path has risks. That's not who I am."
Kaelen wanted to argue, wanted to forbid her from using the technique anymore, wanted to protect her from every possible harm. But he recognized the steel in her voice—the same stubborn determination he'd seen when she'd first offered to help him.
"We monitor it closely," he said finally. "Any sign the echoes are worsening, any hint of real corruption transfer, and we stop immediately. Agreed?"
"Agreed."
They sealed that promise with another kiss, deeper this time, edged with desperation and need. Kaelen pulled Lia closer, needing to feel her solid and real and alive. Her hands tangled in his hair, and when they finally broke apart, both were breathing hard.
"We should go inside," Lia murmured against his lips. "It's getting cold."
"Is it?" Kaelen hadn't noticed, too focused on the warmth where their bodies pressed together.
"Yes. And I have research to do, and you need rest before the raids."
"Research can wait. Rest is overrated."
Lia laughed, light and genuine despite everything. "Five more minutes."
They stayed for twenty, stealing kisses and quiet words, pretending the world beyond their rooftop refuge didn't exist. Pretending there were no warehouse raids to plan, no casualties to mourn, no impossible enemies to face.
Just two people, finding warmth in each other against the gathering dark.
Eventually, cold and responsibility drove them inside. They parted at Lia's door with one final kiss.
"Be careful in the raids," Lia said.
"Always am."
"Kaelen. I'm serious. Come back to me."
"I will," he promised. "I have reasons to."
Her smile was worth every risk he'd ever taken.
Alone in his room, Kaelen prepared his gear for the coming operation. Soulrender lay on the bed, pulsing with that familiar dark awareness.
*You love her,* the sword observed.
"Yes," Kaelen admitted. No point denying it.
*Love is vulnerability. A weakness enemies can exploit.*
"Love is strength. A reason to fight beyond mere survival."
*Perhaps both are true.* The sword seemed contemplative. *We have existed for three centuries, wielded by dozens. None have loved as you do. It is... interesting. Watching you choose connection despite the risks.*
"Did the Shadow Lord love?" Kaelen asked. "Before he fell?"
*Once. Long ago. He loved greatly, and when that love was destroyed, his heart turned to shadow. Perhaps that is why he forged us—to never feel such pain again.*
It was the most personal information Soulrender had ever shared about its creator.
"I won't let that happen to me," Kaelen said. "Won't let loss turn me into a monster."
*You say that now. But we have seen what loss does to even the strongest souls. We hope you are different. We truly do.*
So did Kaelen.
Because three days from now, they would strike at Marcus's supply infrastructure.
And after that, there would be no going back.
The war was about to stop being theoretical and become brutally, definitively real.
Kaelen could only pray he was ready.
That they were all ready.
For what was coming next.