Brin didn't get anything from the meeting. The wards were too strong, but they dropped immediately when it was done and the aftermath told him nearly as much as the meeting might have. Down in a prominent position of the oval was a man who must be General Grimwalt. He was just like Lumina described; thin, dark, and severe-looking. He stood with a hand raised, still in the position of dismissing the meeting.

Galan stood behind him, looking as calm and confident as ever. Maybe it was Brin's imagination, but he couldn't help but think that position behind Grimwalt was significant. A supporting role, but not a subservient one.

He saw Galan meet eyes with sir Caradawg, and something unspoken passed between them. A clenched jaw. A nod.

He noticed that Lyssa wasn't with Galan, and grinned when he saw that she was actually in his group, with the escorts who were waiting outside the meeting. Galan might trust her, but apparently no one else did.

Cid found him in short order and together they hustled to get ahead of the crowd.

Brin asked, "How did it go? Did they agree to work together?"

"It's hard to tell. Officially, General Grimwalt is leading this force and they've already all agreed to follow his commands. He had a big long speech about unity and following orders, and then everybody insisted that they've already been doing that this whole time," said Cid.

"So nothing has changed?" asked Brin.

"I didn't say that. We've been taking losses. The plague, and the assassins. There are a lot of faces I expected to see at that meeting that weren't there, and I don't think it's because they slept in. People are beginning to think we might lose, and that's motivating," said Cid.

"Wouldn't it be the opposite?" asked Brin.

"We all took a risk coming out here. You have to think about what's going to happen if we come home in failure. The Orders that stayed home will poach our monsters and lure away our best recruits. Lords that return home will see their peers testing their borders and trying to undermine their authority. The [King] of Prinnash would definitely lose his crown, and there would probably be a civil war."

They nodded to the sentries on the way out, and Brin made sure that he didn't have any illusions running so that the enchantments on the threshold wouldn't pick anything up from him.

"So we need to win. But do you think that would be enough for them to take this seriously?" he asked.

"Maybe not on its own, but sir Galan dropped another artillery spell on us. Can I ask you something? How close are [Archmage] Lumina and sir Galan? Does Lumina listen to him? And [Archmage] Lumina and General Grimwalt?"

"Lumina and Galan are friends. Lumina respects him a lot; I think she'd take any request he made seriously," said Brin.

"I can forgive you calling your mother by her name, but you should get in the habit of addressing your superiors by their titles. It'll land you in trouble if someone hears that other than me," said Cid.

"Sorry. I could never presume to guess the mind of her radiance the [Archmage of the Mystical Elements] Lumina on the esteemed and honorable General Grimwalt..."

Cid rolled his eyes and Brin laughed. "Lumina doesn't like General Grimwalt, and she feels strongly that he owes her a favor."

"Hm."

"So what's this about Galan and an artillery spell?" asked Brin.

"A metaphorical artillery spell. He just got back from coordinating with the northern and western armies, and apparently, they've both been wildly successful. They're tearing through Arcaena with little resistance. Unless something big changes, Lord Maddox is going to capture the capitol before anyone else can get there," said Cid.

Now that they were well past the threshold, Brin spun up a few directed threads to send out a swarm of Invisible Eyes. It was funny how quickly he could get acclimated to things, but he felt naked without a swarm of surveillance drones in the sky. There was a big gap of empty space between the Commander's Camp and the rest of the army, presumably so that any spies trying to approach the camp wouldn't have anything to hide behind.

Brin put his mind back to the ramifications of what Cid was saying. If Olland captured the capitol... that was a disaster for both Frenaria and Prinnash. The [King] of Prinnash was escorting the Frenarian army while his loyal general led the western army. He'd keep his legitimacy if either of those got to the capitol first. Meanwhile, Prinnash didn't have much of a navy, so Frenaria's shipping lanes would be secure as long as anyone except Olland took the capital. It was two against one, but that one was in the lead. "That's huge."

Cid nodded. "It gets better. Sir Galan told everyone that Lord Maddox owes him a debt of honor. Maddox will delay entry into the capitol until the other two forces arrive... but only if Galan agrees that the other two armies, in his words, 'are engaging with acceptable devotion in this righteous mission for which they have agreed to lend their strength'."

It was a testament to how much he'd integrated the Order's culture, because Brin didn't doubt for a second that all of that was true. Galan wouldn't lie about that. If you didn't trust him, then trust Lothar, who publicly accepted Galan as a true friend and a man of honor, despite the fact that they were in stark disagreement about this war.

Brin looked back and saw Galan. He was walking with sir Ectar, a man Brin had never met but who was second in command of this division of the Order. Sir Caradawg was next to him, now a key ally, maybe because of a debt that Brin was owed for how he'd been treated in Dustrim. Lyssa walked on the other side, looking positively gleeful. And why shouldn't she? Galan wasn't much of a schemer, but Brin could recognize the look of a manipulator whose plans had all just come together. Galan probably agreed to this, because he was convinced that a real leader was necessary to save lives and win the war, but he wouldn't have come up with the plan. This was Lyssa's doing.

Galan, always running around talking to everyone. Never any time for his own levels or even his own men. Because he was too agreeable and couldn't say no? Or because he was arduously working at getting this fractured conglomerate all pointed in the same direction. Pointed in the same direction... behind him. Brin couldn't say what Galan and Lyssa had been up to these past months, but he could see the result plain as day. Olland was united behind him. The majority of Frenaria was united behind Grimwalt, who listened to Lumina, who was now putting her support behind Galan.

Brin used [Wyrdic Inspect]. Galan's levels still weren't visible, but now his Class was hidden, too. All that showed was that he was Galan, the Wartime Commander of the Order of the Long Sleep. The Wyrd had more information. Strings of obligation and authority tied Galan to everything. Everything and everyone.

Brin had been wishing that their side of the war had a leader and now it did, and that leader was Galan.

The thought should have thrilled him, but instead he could only worry. They were surrounded by some of the strongest [Knights] in the world, but here in the empty space between camps was the most exposed Galan would ever be.

Brin summoned more Invisible Eyes, watched the area with increased scrutiny, and saw nothing. That wasn't a sure thing; [Know What's Real] didn't warn him of invisible lurkers unless he was looking right at them. Should he try lasers?

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No, for once, he was just going to trust his hunch. Something was off, and if being a knight had taught him anything, it was to act. Act first, think later, and second guess never.

Brin pulled an Eveladis out of Lumina's ring and threw it towards Galan. The second it left his fingers, a huge black lance, thrumming with power and almost as thick as a tree trunk, was sprouting from Galan's chest.

Later, Brin would go over this moment again and again with [Memories in Glass] and he would get a useful order of events. He would see Galan notice the assassin come out of invisibility first and push Lyssa aside. He would see Lyssa duck under his arm and step forward to block. The lance batted her sword aside, the assassin moving the huge weapon as if it were made of styrofoam, and gouged straight through her forearm, past her, and through Galan's chest. Galan had both arms up to grab the weapon, but his strength wasn't enough to stop it. The lance went straight through his enchanted plate as if it were paper, burst through his body, and out the other side.

Sir Ectar sliced straight through the assassin, cutting him in half from waist to armpit, but the determined assassin continued the attack with the last of his strength.

Only, it wasn't the last of his strength. Threads of Mana pulled the assassin's body back together. Brin recognized that ability. That was a [Mana Scars], the power of a [Scarred One], or maybe a Wight. Brin didn't [Inspect] him in real time so he couldn't be sure, but he had enough time to burn the man's face into his memory. He was ordinary-looking, light haired but with Prinnashian features. Handsome, maybe. He gave a roguish smile even before he even finished pulling his body back together. He saluted, and then smirked when a follow-up swing cut off his hand and through his neck. Then he disappeared into a swarm of flapping wings which quickly faded away.

In real time, Brin saw little of that. By the time his thrown Eveladis landed and broke open, it was over. He didn't even have time to register the presence of the assassin before he faded away. Suddenly, there was a black lance in Galan's chest, and everyone was shouting.

Brin got a front-row seat to how much of a curse high Vitality could be, because even with his heart pierced, Galan didn't die right away. He stood, stubbornly, until that was too much and he sank to his knees. Someone ran for a healer, using [Knight's Charge] for extra speed. Men frantically debated whether to pull out the dark lance or break it. Could this even be healed? By anyone? And yet, Galan held on, giving Brin a foolish hope that he'd make it long enough.

Galan wheezed, trying and failing to breath. He gasped out that they should remove the lance, but they ignored him. Caradawg held the lance in place and Ectar snapped off the back so that Galan could lay down.

A [Knight] returned, carrying a [Wound Binder] named Luelle over his shoulder. He'd strung [Knight's Charges] one after another to make his way in record time. The [Wound Binder] herself was level 41, and while many healers had fallen during the disease attacks, she was one of those who'd risen as a hero. Despite the plain-sounding Class, it was said that she could heal anything short of death.

Dizzy and disoriented from being carried with such speed, Luelle wasted no time in dropping to her knees beside Galan. He grabbed her wrist and wheezed, "Lyssa first."

She pushed his arm away and bent back to examine him, but Galan pushed her again. Luelle took one glance at Lyssa. Lyssa hadn't even registered how bad her arm was; it was hanging by a strand of muscle, the bone and half the arm torn straight through. She covered it with her hand and turned away when Luelle looked.

Luelle plucked a green leaf from her pouch, popped it in her mouth, and chewed. Then she spat it out and pressed it to the bone jutting from Lyssa's arm. "For the poison. If you want to keep your hand, you'll need to see a healer right now. That won't be me, though."

She turned back to Galan, and said, "Pull it out! And get this plate off!"

Ectar pulled the rest of the lance from Galan's chest while another [Knight] started fumbling with his armor. Luelle got to work, moving as quickly in her field as a [Knight] would in his. Brin only recognized some of what she did, pressing herbs and sewing flesh. She also traced strange runes into his skin, and muttered incantations, burning some herbs in a little censor that hung on a chain from her neck. She made bandages and pressed them into place, only to remove them a second later to see what the effect had been.

Other healers were brought. Some, Luelle integrated into her work, and some she sent away with barely a glance. Of those, one man started working on Lyssa's arm. Lyssa hardly seemed to notice, and stood staring at Galan as if nothing else existed in the world. She was stoic at first, but her lips began to tremble the longer Galan lay on the ground and the color bled from his face.

Brin watched the entire time, and there was nothing he could do. Somehow, he'd gotten this far without a single healing Skill that could help other people.

He watched, until Luelle stopped moving. She sat back with a sigh, and closed her eyes. "There's nothing more I can do. The poison, and the wound... A ruptured heart will always kill, and his was more than ruptured. He's dead. He's been dead for the last two minutes, by my estimation.

"No!" Lyssa cried, and rushed forward to fall on Galan's broken chest. She cupped his chin in a hand, peered into his eyes. "No, no..."

"Keep trying!" sir Ectar shouted. "There must still be something you can do. Do you want gold? Are there resources you need?"

Luelle stood her ground. "There is nothing to be done."

"Lies!" Then Ectar was grabbing her around the neck, lifting her in the air. "You--"

"Stop this at once!" Caradawg shouted, and pushed Ectar's arm back down, prying his fingers away from her neck.

Ectar paled and stepped back, eyes wide. "I apologize--"

Caradawg's mustache quivered in outrage. "You shame yourself, sir!"

“I do. My deepest apologies. I…”

Meanwhile, Lyssa sobbed against Galan's prone form, hardly noticing the healers who still worked diligently to save her arm. If ever there was any doubt that she truly cared for him, it was laid to rest beside the man himself. She'd been plotting for Galan, not against him. You had to care a lot about a man to put aside your own personal ambition and scheme to raise him up instead. She’d laid the might of three nations at his feet.

At the same time, one could argue that her detractors had been correct. She’d killed him. She’d made him a target by giving him that much power, and he hadn’t even lasted an hour.

Brin swallowed the lump in his throat, trying not to break down in front of all these men. His sympathy for poor Lyssa and his own personal sorrow were warring with the feelings of hot rage he was planning for the first person who dared to voice the thoughts he’d just been having a second ago.

Lyssa wept. "No. You promised. You promised you wouldn't die. How could you?"

Brin couldn't believe it either. Galan always seemed so invincible...

No. He actually couldn't believe it. He felt his emotions fading like an unneeded heavy cloak as his analytical side took over. Was this the [Delusionist], or was this in himself all along? It didn’t matter. He needed to think straight. There was something there. Galan seemed invincible. Why did that thought strike him as something with such profundity? Because, he realized, Galan seemed invincible to the Wyrd, too. He seemed invincible to Brin's real senses, not just to his sentimentality. He had one last hope. It wasn’t even a stupid hope, because he still didn't know what Skill Galan had chosen to evolve after the System Quest.

He stepped forward and helped Luelle to her feet, who was still coughing on the ground and rubbing her neck. He brushed the dirt off her robes, and said, "I have a favor to ask."

She had admirable compassion in her eyes. Despite her rough treatment, she understood. "Ask."

"Can you repair his body? Galan doesn't deserve to have his flesh corrupted away by wicked poison, or to have his heart left in pieces. He deserves to be whole when we cast his body atop the pyre."

She sighed. "It would be a waste. I could use these herbs to heal the living."

"Please. I'll pay whatever is required," said Brin.

"No, I will," said Ectar. "And I will go gather more personally, so that the war does not suffer from the medicine's lack."

"Very well," said Luelle.

She got to work. The sun was hot, and it was dusty, and not a single soul thought about leaving. It was a sacred moment, a last gift to a good man, a man who could have united them. For Brin, it was an anguishing wait, a time of desperate hope.

Luelle destroyed the poison. She adjusted his bones, sewed his organs back in place, and then bound his wounds. Lyssa moved where she needed, but she never left his side. When Luelle was done, Lyssa laid her head on the white bandages against his chest. Her sobs had given way to miserable, shut-eye, draining tears.

Then her eyes shot open.

She sat up, blinking. "What?"

Galan lifted a hand and then clenched it into a fist. His voice was quiet, but carried in the silence. Even the wind didn't dare make a sound. "I promised... didn't I? I will not... die."

Of course, Brin should've known the second that Lyssa claimed he'd promised her he wouldn't die. Galan would never make a promise he didn't know he would keep.

Galan's hand dropped, and he appeared to all the world to be dead again, but his Status had been altered. His Class was showing.

Deathless Knight

Brin let out a whoop, cheering in relief, but no one else took it up. They were all too stunned, but Brin knew.

Arcaena had made her first big mistake of the war. She never should've sent that assassin. They had a leader. A good man, of unquestionable honor, and no assassin would undo this army. Their leader was immune to death.

The End of Part 1