Leon’s meeting with Roland and Marquis Aeneas went quickly. There wasn’t much for them to say, for Aeneas had been planning their next moves for days, he’d only been waiting on the go-ahead from August.

First, Leon was to return to his unit outside the walls and harass the Octavian forces laying siege to the Augustine camp. No more large-scale battles or ambushes as he’d led several days ago, his only job was to harass Duronius’ supply lines. Meanwhile, Roland would lead a group of elites from the Legions and escort a group of magic engineers into the mountains to break through the Octavian forces holding the narrow passes, and then widen them to allow significant portions of August’s army to escape from the siege.

Once there were enough forces on the outside, they’d smash the Octavian troops between them, with Aeneas and August on the walls and Leon and Roland out in the field.

During this time, they’d try to get in contact with the Duke of Lentia’s forces and send him a message that his defection is accepted. If done quickly enough, then the Lentian army would be able to assist them in the campaign.

It was simple enough to be clearly understood, while broad enough to give Leon flexibility and room to act on his own initiative, making it one of the most perfect plans Leon had ever heard. In fact, given Marcus’ penchant for detailed, complicated plans that Leon had seen first-hand during their time at the Knight Academy, he almost wouldn’t believe that Marcus was Aeneas’ son if it weren’t for their strong physical resemblance.

Once the meeting was over, Leon, Alcander, and Roland left the room, leaving Marcus and his father to catch up for a few minutes.

“I’ll see you outside the walls in five days,” Roland said to Leon.

“I’ll hold you to that,” Leon replied.

“You can count on my being there, and I’ll bring as many friends as I can,” Roland responded. “In the meantime, we’ll try and establish better contact with you so that you don’t have to risk flying over—”

“I don’t mind flying!” Leon interrupted with an amount of enthusiasm that Roland found both strange and completely understandable.

“… I suppose I wouldn’t either if I had managed to build one of those flight suits…” Roland quietly stated, looking at Leon’s attire with more than a little bit of envy. “It seems your sentiment isn’t shared, though…”

Both men glanced at Alcander, who was staring at Anzu, his face pale and his hands shaking.

“You good, Alcander?” Leon asked, walking over to the nobleman.

“Yeah… yeah…” he mumbled.

“You don’t have to come with us, I’m sure Sir Roland can find you a place with him to break through the mountain passes,” Leon said, glancing back at Roland.

“I would be happy to have you, Sir Alcander,” Roland replied, smiling at the younger man.

“I’m good to go,” Alcander shot back, his tone sharp and determined.

“Mm. Well, I suppose we’re about to find out,” Leon said. He nodded to Alcander in solidarity, then left him and Marcus to get back into Anzu’s saddle and strap themselves in.

“All right,” Roland said, clearly angling to leave them to their preparations, “I’ll see you in a few days.”

As the Paladin turned around to return to August’s building, Leon stopped him, saying, “By the way, Sir Roland, about what I told you before, I wasn’t joking.”

“Hmm? What do you mean? What did you tell me before?” Roland asked as he stopped and turned back to face Leon.

“Don’t call me any of those names again. Ever.”

Leon’s demeanor was deadly serious, even emitting strands of killing intent. Despite this, Roland still treated it like a joke, chuckling and saying, “Of course, Sir Leon. If you don’t wish to be known by those titles, then I shan’t use them.”

He looked like he wanted to say more, but after a moment’s pause, he nodded to Leon one more time, then walked back inside.

Before Leon could get started on his preparations, though, he heard the familiar deep, resonant voice of Xaphan from deep within his soul realm.

[Awww, did the big bad White Griffin get his feelings hurt? Hmmmm? How about it, Thunder Knight? Surely you’re too tough to let a few names get the better of you…] The demon’s tone was mocking, but as he continued, he suddenly seemed to become much more serious. [Of course, I know you aren’t tough enough to take that, your skin is so thin that it’s practically transparent.]

[Uh huh,] Leon replied, knowing that he wasn’t going to hear the end of this very soon. [What I’m more worried about is that you’ve had at least an hour to come up with ways to mock me over those names, and that’s all you’re giving me. What’s the matter, is the weak little demon getting restless in his box? Do I need to get you a chew toy to pass the time?]

[No need to go out of your way, oh mighty Thunder Knight, oh attractive and most illustrious White Griffin!] Xaphan sarcastically retorted. [Your lowly de… actually never mind that, I can’t even bring myself to finish that sentence. I’m better than you in every conceivable way, and to suggest otherwise, even as a joke, is simply too much for me to bear.]

[Wonderful to know where you draw the line, it’s good to see you finally admit defeat.]

[This isn’t defeat, young human, far from it…]

And like that, Leon felt Xaphan’s presence descend back into his soul realm, which he took to mean that their exchange was over. Oddly enough, it actually put quite a spring into his step, knowing that Xaphan had been beaten back in their little verbal spar, but he could feel something was up with the demon—his mocking was simply too awful for him to be completely all right.

But this wasn’t the time to be pondering the demon’s issues; the sky was calling to Leon, and he had to answer. Quickly donning his flight suit, Leon made sure that Marcus and Alcander were properly secured and then took off, kicking up a huge cloud of dust in his wake. Anzu was right behind him, soaring into the firmament, his coat gleaming every time the moon shone through the clouds.

Leon spared Marcus and Alcander a single glance before the thrill of flight overtook him. Marcus seemed fine, but Alcander, as with their previous flight, barely seemed able to keep himself upright. Leon could sympathize a little bit, so decided to try and make their flight as quick as possible.

To that end, he began cutting through the clouds on a northerly route, dropping back down below the clouds a couple of times to check on their position. Things were quiet over the Augustine camp, likewise for the Octavian camp. However, Leon noticed a problem as they passed the cleared areas and back over the forests.

He could see the trees moving as thousands of people pushed past them. He could hear the thunderous footsteps and the labored breathing of people marching through the rough, swampy terrain.

These weren’t his people; these were undoubtedly sent by Duronius. And from what he could tell from so high above and on the other side of the thick leafy canopy, there were tens of thousands of Octavian troops heading straight for the camp.

As the realization sank in, all elation that Leon felt in liberating his feet from their earthy prison vanished, replaced with a slow, cold dread. The forest was large and full of hiding places, but this Octavian marching column was heading straight for his camp.

‘They know we’re there…’ Leon thought to himself in panic.

He accelerated to his maximum controllable speed while Anzu fell in beside him, easily keeping up. Leon had to get back to the camp as soon as he was able to, for this unit was close enough that he might not have enough time to get his two thousand people awake and moving in time to escape.

---

Calerus slowly picked his way through the forest on foot. His horse had been killed the last time he’d been foolish enough to ride one into the trees, and he wasn’t about to risk another of his expensive steeds on this mission. Most nobles, he knew, wouldn’t be so quick to abandon such things, but he had no qualms about mingling with his knights and men-at-arms on foot.

Especially so when it would bring him closer to Ursus.

He knew that he was going to get the barbarian this time. He had the five thousand men and women of his retinue that survived Ursus’ ambush, plus another forty-five thousand from various other nobles with him. There was nowhere for the barbarian to hide with such a large force about to crash down upon him.

He couldn’t help but smile. Calerus could practically feel his lover watching him, supporting him in bringing the justice of civilized people to the savage that had prematurely sent him to his Ancestors.

Ahead of him, one of his weaker men-at-arms stumbled over a root and face-planted into the mud. A few of his knights snickered—if pressed, Calerus would’ve admitted that it was quite comical—but that quickly stopped as Calerus stepped forward to help his man-at-arms to his feet.

“Be careful out here,” he said. “Always watch where you’re going. We don’t know what heathen tricks the savage has left for us in these woods…”

“Yes, My Lord,” the man-at-arms replied, his face wearing the expression of abject shame and embarrassment. “I apologize for making such a fool of myself.”

“Don’t worry about it, just focus on which of the hells we will unleash upon our enemies!” Calerus chuckled good-naturedly, clapped his man-at-arms on the shoulder, and urged him onward. His lover was dead, but he had many other good people at his side, including the forces from Vesontio, Argentum, Lentia, Segovia, and Belum with him, along with another dozen units from smaller noble territories.

He still grieved for the water mage, but with so many good people at his sides and back, Ursus’ fall was guaranteed. When his revenge was so secure, he couldn’t help but smile.

---

Leon stood outside of the underground camp entrance, watching as his people filed out almost painfully slowly. He was fully armed and armored, with Valeria, Alix, and Anzu at his side. The Barons had gotten their people moving in short order, though had taken some prodding on both Leon and Marcus’ part to get them started.

There hadn’t been much time for Leon to brief the Barons and high-ranking knights of what had happened during the night. The Octavian forces were only about an hour or two away from their camp when he, Marcus, and Alcander returned, and he could practically feel every second that ticked away.

It had been long enough now that most of those leaving the camp could hear the Octavian forces in the distance, even with the muffling effect of so much forest between them, and that spurred their movements onward. As they exited the camp, they got into a loose marching formation and started moving.

It was only Leon, his retinue, and the giants that stood still, keeping an eye on their southern flank. If Duronius wanted his people to hit Leon in the rear, they’d have to fight their way through a hundred giants and Leon himself to do so.

He was ready. His hands were calm, his heart rate steady, his demeanor calm. Unfortunately, the same couldn’t be said for most of his people, and even Alix standing next to him subtly shook in fear as the sounds in the distance slowly became louder and louder.

Only Valeria next to him was as calm as he was, and he wished he could be surprised or reassured by that. He was neither.

After a few more minutes of waiting, Marcus and Alcander came running out of the camp, having almost pushed their way through some of the levies that were still making their way out. That got them a few angry glares, but as they ran to take their places next to Leon, most antipathies towards them vanished.

“What are you two doing?” Leon asked, not even turning his head to acknowledge their arrival.

“We’re not going to run while you stay behind,” Marcus replied, smiling at Leon through his helmet—or so Leon assumed given his tone.

“Yeah… there’s too many… people here who need an introduction to my ax…” Alcander sputtered, still looking a little green around the gills from their two earlier flights.

Leon glanced at them from the corner of his eye. They were both strong for third-tier mages—incredibly close to the fourth-tier, in fact, but he knew that his duty was probably to send them on their way rather than having them stay and fight.

“Fair enough,” he said to them, choosing to ignore that part of his duty. If they wanted to stay with him, he wasn’t going to stop them. But it did bring something up that he needed to check, so he turned his head as if to check on the progress of the unit in evacuating their camp, but instead, he gave Valeria’s aura a quick inspection.

What he saw there only depressed him. She’d been close to the fifth-tier for months, and she was only drawing closer. He guessed that she was probably only a few training sessions shy of successfully creating and controlling elemental magic.

And the stronger she got, the harder it would only be for him to confront her.

‘After this…’ he thought to himself. He knew he’d said things like this before, but if he lived through this next battle, he’d make good on this promise. This had to be nipped in the bud.

Suddenly, as Leon was getting a read on Valeria’s power, a massive aura made itself known deep in the forest, causing his head to whip around in alarm. A moment later, a fireball the size of Leon’s entire body came peeling out of the woods and hit a fifth-tier equivalent giant straight on.

The explosion was tremendous, but Leon at first thought the giant had shrugged it off. Through the bright orange flame, Leon could still see a few glimpses of its body standing upright. However, as the fire quickly died down, he saw that the boulders that made up its body had almost completely fused together, the formerly grey and black stone now glowing a dull red.

A moment later, the giant fell, its body’s brittle stone crumbling to pieces on the ground as the underbrush around it caught fire. For the first time since he’d brought them, Leon had lost a giant.

And the aura in the trees only grew stronger.

“GET DOWN!!!” Leon shouted as more fireballs came roaring out from the trees.