Kai stood on the edge of the cliff, wind tugging at his cloak, and stared down at Fort Glaivegate. He couldn’t help but think that even with their plan, it was going to be tough to take the fort down.

From up here, the fort looked like a metal claw gripping the flattened hill beneath it. He’d seen forts before, of course, plenty of them. The Sylvan Enclave had its share of strongholds, but most were little more than glorified outposts. Fort Aegis had been the only one worth remembering, built to withstand sieges, spells, and all the horrors war could throw at them. The rest? A few good explosions and a strong enough push through the gates had been enough to take them.

Glaivegate, though… it was closer to Aegis than any of those weak forts. And with the information they received from the Watchers, it would be much harder to breach Glaivegate.

The fort was built atop a small hill that had been flattered and had wards covering the walls that would protect against any sort of magical attack. Projectiles, siege spells and everything else. Worse, there would be around five to seven times their numbers inside with a good amount of Mages that were stationed there instead of noble houses.

Most were likely second-circle, still learning the craft of magic. But he was sure there would be one Third Circle Mage. Aldrin had a few under his command; one could easily be stationed here.

Still, that wasn’t what made Kai’s stomach twist. It was the wall itself—tall, thick, and alive with the hum of protective mana. Even from this distance, he could see archers lining the ramparts, silhouettes shifting as they loaded bolts into mounted ballistae.

They had seen them. Of course they had. From the way the archers shifted on the wall and the faint glimmer of wards rippling to life, it was clear Fort Glaivegate had been warned in advance. It didn't matter.

Kai hadn’t come here to be sneaky anyway.

He turned slightly, eyes finding Feroy. “Once the gates open,” Kai said, his voice steady despite the wind whipping around them, “follow the plan. Make sure no one kills unnecessarily. And tell everyone to keep their distance with the mana guns. We want as few casualties as possible.”

Feroy nodded, tightening his hand around the spear tightly. “I’ll make sure you’re not disappointed, Lord Arzan.” His tone carried the faintest hint of excitement. “Are we starting right away, or do we give them a chance to surrender?”

“Surrender,” Kai said simply.

He didn’t wait for a response. Mana stirred beneath his boots as he invoked the [Flight] spell, and the world fell away beneath him. Gasps rose from his soldiers as he lifted into the air, a trail of wind curling around his cloak.

Truthfully, he didn’t want to waste breath offering surrender. He already knew how this would end. But wars weren’t only about breaking walls—they were also about shaping stories. And a man who offered mercy before victory had a better reputation than one who didn't.

He’d need that reputation soon. He’d need soldiers, Mages, and cities that would bend the knee willingly when the throne came within reach.

As he climbed higher, the fort loomed close. Soldiers stared up in stunned silence, some faltering in their movements. A few scrambled to ready ballistae; others loosed arrows that cracked uselessly against the faint shimmer of his wind armor.

Kai sighed and let his voice carry across the field as he raised his hand. “Soldiers of Fort Glaivegate!” he called out, his mana amplifying each word until even the stone seemed to hum. “I am Duke Arzan Kellius—contender to the Lancephil throne and a Fourth Circle Mage.”

At his declaration, the ballistae stuttered, then paused.

His eyes moved towards the bows that lowered, and the fingers that slacked on strings. For a heartbeat, there was nothing but the wind and the soft thud of armor as men shifted on the ramparts.

“I’m here to give you a chance to surrender,” he called out in a clear voice. “Surrender now and I will spare you a battle you will only lose!”

Silence answered him at first, though he expected them to shout or at least laugh. He didn’t know how fast the tale of his duel with Veridia had spreaded, but he could guess: Aldrin would have warned every man here. The thought flickered, then a ripple of movement broke the quiet.

A wave of mana slammed into him.

Kai immediately turned in that direction to see a burly figure vaulting the railing. The burly man wore a full plate that caught the sun; seals shining along the pauldrons. He stood like one a War Mage.

“I am Captain Orlen,” the man said, his voice hard as a flint. “Third-Circle Mage of Archine Tower, and captain of Fort Glaivegate. What you threaten is treason against the crown. Turn back now, or be declared a traitor.”

Orlen’s words rang across the courtyard.

“We both know the crown is split,” Kai replied, the words riding along the wind. “Don’t make yourself holier than you are. If I am a traitor, then what is Prince Aldrin—who confides with foreign powers just to get a shot at the throne? Tell me, if someone who is willing to sell the kingdom is a traitor or not.”

His last statement turned heads, and murmurs erupted.

“Duke Arzan,” Orlen said with a tight frown on his face, “I respect you as a Mage. But step away. Leave and keep your honor. Stay, and I will call you a traitor and do my duty.”

Kai sighed and let the cold wind bite his face.

“The talk is over,” he said finally. “I gave you a chance, and you refused. I cannot help what comes next.”

For a second, nothing moved. Kai looked down on the ground and Feroy nodded, already moving as they had planned.

Orders rippled through the ranks on the ramparts like a quiet wave. And the defenders didn’t wait.

The air cracked with the sharp twang of bowstrings. A storm of arrows and spells rained down all at once. Fire, lightning, and steel filled the sky. Kai raised a hand, and the wind roared to life—his barrier flaring around him like a living gale. Every arrow that struck shattered to splinters, every spell dispersed into harmless sparks.

He counted quickly. A dozen Mages, maybe a few more hiding inside the fort. All of them were Second Circle Mages, easy enough to defeat. The captain, though… the one named Orlen—his mana burned brighter and stronger. He was a Third Circle Lightning Mage.

He sent out bolts of white-blue energy crackling across the air toward Kai, forcing him to weave and shift through the sky. The arcs hissed past his cloak, sizzling into the ground below. Orlen gritted his teeth, flinging another volley, but his control faltered—each bolt flew straight, unable to bend or chase its target.

Kai noted it quietly. Raw power, no finesse. That alone made him easier to deal with. But he didn’t counterattack. Not yet.

The air around the fort pulsed—he felt it before he saw it. Threads of mana, fine and deliberate, wove together in the space before him. Then, like a ripple through glass, the ward on the walls flared to life.

A translucent prism of mana enveloped the fort, shimmering faintly under the morning sun. It extended upward, even enclosing the air above the walls. Kai’s eyes narrowed. The structure was dense, tightly layered and precisely channeled.

Not bad, he thought. Better than expected. Impressive even.

The ward didn’t just absorb attacks—it redirected them, tuned only to block from one side. Arrows and spells from inside passed through unhindered. Whoever built this knew what they were doing. Probably the same hand that had shaped Archine Tower’s defenses.

Impressive for this era, but flawed all the same. There were spells that would easily go past it.

Kai exhaled slowly, the wind stirring at his feet. The fort might’ve been wrapped in glass and lightning, but it wouldn’t save them for long.

And then, with a soft hum, the first of the drones appeared, floating into view from behind him. They were sleek, angular and thrumming with mana, and hovered right before Kai.

Right on time.

The next wave came faster—arrows whistling through the air, spells streaking like comets. This time, their aim wasn’t at him. They went for the drones.

Kai didn’t even flinch.

The four floating constructs clicked together with a mechanical snap. The seals etched to them glowed white-hot, drawing power straight from the condensed Aethum cores built within. A hum filled the air.

Then, with a rush of wind, a spherical barrier expanded outward, wrapping around him in a dome of bright blue light. The storm of arrows and spells struck it, flaring against its surface before dying away to nothing. Each impact rippled faintly across the barrier, but the mana flow didn’t falter.

Kai allowed himself a small nod. The design that he had came up with Balen worked as expected.

The defensive drone model had been the Minotaur’s idea. Together, they’d refined it into something practical. It didn't only redirect the spells. It also absorbed parts of them. He could feel the energy distribution stabilizing through the aethum lattice.

Even a sustained Third Circle Mage assault wouldn’t crack it for at least five minutes. That was more than enough time.

He raised both hands, mana flaring between his palms. The air thickened as glowing lines began to take shape before him—circles, runes, and spirals overlapping in intricate harmony.

A fifth-circle siege spell.

The kind that could bring down city walls on its own. The kind Mages feared as much as they admired. And the kind that demanded time—time to construct, stabilize, and feed. Normally, that was a fatal weakness on the battlefield. But inside the hum of his barrier, Kai had all the time he needed.

He shut out the world—the shouts from the fort, the calls to reload, even the faint shimmer of lightning gathering in the sky. All that existed was the spell structure unfolding before him.

Mana wove like silk threads, bending under his will. Lines branched, curved, and merged into new runes. The structure rotated slowly, layer after layer forming around a growing core of raw, compressed energy.

The heart of the spell—the core—was everything. One mistake there, and the entire construct would collapse, taking him with it.

Kai’s breathing slowed. His eyes reflected the spell’s blue light as he shaped the core structure. Only when the center pulsed with perfect rhythm did he move to the next segment, letting the outer layers build around it—one side, then another.

Outside, the fort roared with desperate energy. Inside the dome, only the sound of humming mana and his own heartbeat filled the silence.

Lines of mana bled into one another like rivers of molten light, each feeding the growing spell. The barrage against the drone barrier only intensified—more arrows, more desperate spells, all hammering against the shimmering blue dome that kept Kai untouched.

For a moment, he wondered. What if any of them could fly?

If Orlen or one of the other Mages had mastered flight, he’d have to fend them off before completing the spell, burning through his own reserves just to stay alive. That would’ve made this entire siege slower, bloodier. But luck, or perhaps fate, favored him. None of them rose to meet him. No one dared to leave the safety of their walls.

That meant he could pour everything he had into this.

And for a spell like this, more was always better. The bigger the fort, the more the mana needed.

He didn’t rush. Each heartbeat added another set of runes, another layer of complexity, another pulse of energy folding into the structure. The shouts below grew frantic now—panicked orders, screams, even the deep crackle of overloaded spells trying to punch through the drones’ shields.

Then, he felt it.

The final strand of mana locked into place, the spell resonating in perfect balance. It was ready.

Kai glanced at the fort below, measuring its shape and size—walls, towers, ramparts, the clustered barracks in the back. Then he rose higher, breaking through the top of the drone barrier. The air above was clean and thin and the world stretched wide around him.

The instant he left the shield’s safety, every spell on the wall turned toward him like a swarm of angry hornets. But before they could even fire—

He spoke.

Five syllables of pure power rolled off his tongue, and the spell ignited.

“Solun Aras Tookan Marlv Arnkto!”

The structure flared, flooding the sky with blue light that washed over the fort in a blinding wave. Mana shivered through the air. Then the light condensed, and clouds began to pour out of the spell—thick, rolling masses that spread like a storm given form.

The entire fortress vanished beneath the veil in seconds and such a ward wasn't made to redirect such a spell. No Mage in this era would think to push back against clouds and air when designing a ward.

From within, Kai heard the first screams—short, startled, then drowned beneath the muffled roar of wind. The clouds clung to everything—walls, weapons, people. Arrows shot through them, only to lose direction. Spells sparked, fizzled, and disappeared into the mist.

Kai watched, impassive, holding the spell steady as the clouds thickened. He could see the faint outlines of soldiers waving swords uselessly, trying to carve through vapor that refused to disperse. A few Mages hurled fire and lightning, but the haze swallowed it all, unyielding.

It wasn’t smoke. It wasn't an illusion. It was consuming.

The fort below writhed in chaos, its proud defenders reduced to silhouettes in the misty storm he’d summoned. And through it all, Kai hovered above—calm, focused, a lone figure against the vast sky—holding the spell as it devoured everything beneath it, piece by piece.

The spell was known as [Solun]—one of the most feared and elegant siege spells to come out of the first golden era of magic. Named after its creator that probably wasn't even born yet.

Back then, armies had used it to swallow whole cities in clouds so thick that neither arrows nor mana blasts could pass through. It blinded defenders, choked their formation lines, and made their wards useless for hours. For two full years, every army worth its name had relied on it—until the counter spells and wards came.

Kai doubted anyone in Fort Glaivegate had that kind of luxury.

Below him, the muffled roars of confusion and panic carried faintly through the clouds—shouts of orders lost, Mages trying to dispel the fog, soldiers slamming against unseen walls. He let the sounds sit with him for a breath longer, then turned, letting the wind carry him back toward his army.

Feroy and the others were waiting. Even though they had known what the plan was, the look on their faces was a sight to see—eyes wide, mouths half-open as they watched the entire fort vanish beneath a swirling dome of blue mist.

Knowing and seeing were clearly two different things.

Kai landed softly, his boots stirring dust. Feroy was the first to step forward, his expression quickly hardening into readiness. “We are ready for the assault, Lord Arzan.”

Kai gave a short nod. “Remember—don’t kill unless it’s necessary. The spell will hold for a while. You’ll have enough time to disarm and bind the soldiers.” His eyes flicked over the gathered troops. “Are the potions ready?”

“At once,” Feroy replied, already signaling the line.

All at once, hundreds of soldiers reached into their belts and pulled out simmering white vials. The liquid shimmered faintly, a blend of energy and resistance potions brewed for his men to see through the mist. They raised them in unison, gulped them down, and a collective shiver ran through the ranks as the potions settled.

Feroy grimaced slightly as his own body adjusted, then steadied himself and turned to the men. “Deploy the golems and drones!”

The command rippled across the camp. Soldiers cleared a path, stepping aside as two massive golems lumbered forward, each one glowing faintly from the cores embedded in their chests. Above them, combat drones lifted into formation, their cores pulsing blue as they synced with the golems’ mana signatures.

The ground shook as the constructs advanced, heading straight for the gates now lost inside the fog.

Kai watched them move, arms folded, eyes half-narrowed. Everything was unfolding perfectly—too perfectly.

Even as the golems neared the wall and the soldiers began their careful advance, his mind drifted elsewhere, to the horizon beyond the smoke and dust.

Will the Caelond Kingdom attack?

The thought lingered for a second, then he shook his head. Even if they did, he had a lot of tricks remaining in his bag. After all, this was just the start of their campaign.

***

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