Just like the story had described.
And just like before…
Agrona hadn't needed overwhelming power to cripple Dicathen.
All he needed was division.
A commander turned toward Cael.
"Lance Cael."
The room's attention shifted.
Even now, months after earning the title, the word still felt strange.
Lance.
One of the six protectors of Dicathen.
One of the strongest mages on the continent.
Cael stepped forward calmly.
"Yes?"
The commander gestured toward the northern edge of the map.
"Reports came in this morning."
Several red markers were moved across the table.
"The Alacryans have deployed another strike force here."
Cael studied the position.
A small fortress town.
Strategically positioned along the mountain passes.
If it fell…
The northern defenses would collapse.
"They want it taken quickly," Bairon said.
His sharp eyes locked onto Cael.
"And they want it done quietly."
Cael raised an eyebrow.
"Quietly?"
Another officer leaned forward.
"We suspect a retainer may be commanding the force."
Murmurs filled the chamber.
Retainers were not enemies ordinary battalions could handle.
They were monsters.
Elite generals of Agrona's army.
And killing one could shift the momentum of entire campaigns.
But confronting one also meant enormous risk.
Cael understood immediately.
They weren't just asking him to reinforce the town.
They were sending him to eliminate the threat.
A Lance assassination mission.
Bairon continued.
"If that position falls, the Alacryans will gain access to the central valleys. From there…"
He didn't need to finish.
The war would spiral even further out of control.
Cael's gaze returned to the map.
The situation was worse than the commanders realized.
This wasn't just a strategic move.
Agrona was tightening the noose.
Piece by piece.
Exactly like before.
Cael exhaled quietly.
"I'll handle it."
The room fell silent again.
Even the hardened generals seemed slightly relieved.
That was the role of a Lance.
To face threats no army could stop.
Bairon studied him carefully.
"You'll be alone."
"That's fine."
Another officer spoke.
"Recon units report strange mana signatures in the area. Possibly demon-enhanced troops."
Cael nodded.
Not surprising.
Agrona had begun using his damn Experiments more frequently now.
Experiments.
Enhancements.
Turning ordinary soldiers into unstable weapons.
The war was entering its darkest phase.
Bairon slid a small sealed document across the table.
"Your orders."
Cael picked it up.
"The fortress town of Greywatch has forty-eight hours at best," Bairon said.
"If a retainer is present, you are authorized to eliminate them."
Cael slipped the orders into his cloak.
"Understood."
The meeting slowly dissolved after that.
Generals returned to their discussions.
Messengers rushed in and out of the chamber.
War never stopped.
As Cael walked toward the exit, he heard fragments of conversation behind him.
"…another battalion lost near the western ridge…"
"…the council is arguing about resource allocation again…"
"…if the elves withdraw their forces—"
Politics.
Even in the middle of a war that threatened the entire continent.
Cael shook his head slightly.
Agrona understood something Dicathen's leaders never fully grasped.
War wasn't just fought with armies.
It was fought with doubt.
Fear.
Division.
And Dicathen was drowning in all three.
Outside the fortress, night had already fallen.
The war camp stretched across the valley like a sea of firelight.
Thousands of soldiers preparing for battles they might never survive.
Cael stood at the edge of the cliff overlooking the camp.
For a moment, he simply watched them.
Ordinary people.
Fighting a war against enemies far beyond them.
His fingers tightened slightly.
This was the world Arthur had tried to save.
The world that had fallen once before.
But this time…
Things were different.
Because Cael existed.
His mana stirred quietly beneath his skin.
At Integration Stage, power no longer felt like something external.
It felt like breathing.
Natural.
Effortless.
But even with this strength…
He knew the truth.
The war wasn't the only threat looming over him.
The Asuras were watching.
They always were.
And the moment they realized what he was becoming—
Their attitude would change.
Just like it had with the Djinn.
Cael looked toward the distant mountains.
Greywatch lay somewhere beyond them.
Forty-eight hours.
A possible retainer.
And another battle that might shift the fragile balance of the war.
A faint smile appeared on his face.
"Guess it's time to work."
Wind gathered beneath his feet.
The air twisted around him as mana responded instantly to his will.
Then—
He vanished into the night sky.
A Lance on his way to war.
And somewhere in the darkness ahead—
An enemy waited.