Kael ran a hand over his face, dragging his fingers across his forehead to his chin, like someone who had already accepted the inevitable, but needed a few seconds to lament his own existence before verbalizing anything.

He took a deep breath.

He exhaled slowly.

And murmured, defeated:

"...okay. Okay. I understand. If she finds out from someone else… or worse, after I'm already there… she'll literally end the world."

Amelia nodded quickly, like a nervous chick.

"Yes. Without a doubt. Without even hesitating."

Irelia crossed her arms, serious.

"She'd probably destroy the entire Skaldi out of sheer anger."

Sylphie, hand on her hip, added in a murmured tone:

"Or she'd tear the barrier between planes with her fingernails. Again."

Kael closed his eyes.

"Yes. That sounds quite plausible indeed…"

When he opened it, he found his grandmother staring at him with that look that mixed ancestral wisdom, permanent pride, and 'my God, my grandson is the magnet for trouble I myself created.'

Eleanor nodded slowly, her fingers still resting on the rune.

"That's exactly why," she said with a frighteningly professional calm for someone about to invoke possibly the greatest destructive force on the continent, "you're going to her first."

Kael's eyes widened.

"Me? I'm going?? Like… personally??"

"Yes." The Queen turned completely to him, her posture now rigid and authoritative, but carrying a more painful truth: concern. "Because, unlike me, Elion doesn't control herself."

Silence.

Heavy.

Cutting.

Even the projection of the map seemed to slow its pulse at the mention of Kael's mother's name. Amelia looked at Irelia, pale.

Irelia looked at Amelia, equally pale.

Exelia reflexively brought her hand to the hilt of her sword, as if that would protect her from an entity that could, with an angry sigh, bend reality itself.

Sylphie simply closed her eyes, as if praying for mental strength to deal with what was to come.

Kael opened his hands, as if trying to appease a dragon about to explode.

"Grandma… just to confirm: you want me to be the messenger of the news that I'm being sent to a nest of Black Witches, with my blood being practically the main ingredient in the ritual of these psychopaths?"

Eleanor didn't hesitate.

"Yes."

"And that I tell this directly to my mother."

"Yes."

"Before she finds out somehow involving breaking fifty laws of physics?"

"Yes."

Kael rubbed his temple. "…I'm going to die."

Sylphie opened her eyes and patted his arm, trying to console him. "She won't kill you. She'll just… get very, very, very angry."

Eleanor finished impassively:

"And probably destroy half the castle."

"GRANDMA!"

She raised an eyebrow.

"What? You know what she's like."

Kael opened his mouth, closed it, took a deep breath, and finally, with the resignation of a man condemned to face his own personal apocalypse, murmured:

"Okay. I'll talk to her. Now. Before it's too late."

The Witch Queen let out a slow sigh—not of relief, but of someone who knows the storm is still to come, and that she herself will be swept away by it, whether she likes it or not.

"Good choice, my dear."

Kael didn't think it was a good choice. Just the only one.

Eleanor then finished, in a much softer, but no less serious tone:

"You'd better hurry. The longer you wait… the more explosive the reunion will be. And remember: I can control my own anger."

She stopped.

She looked deeply into his eyes.

"But your mother… can't."

And Kael swallowed hard.

Because he knew that wasn't an exaggeration.

Nor drama.

Nor a metaphor.

His mother really couldn't control herself. Never.

The silence that hung after Eleanor's last sentence was so dense it seemed to have physical weight. Kael took a deep breath, trying not to think about the fact that, in a few minutes, he would be face to face with the most powerful—and most emotionally unstable—entity in all of magical history.

But before he could mentally torture himself with catastrophic scenarios involving torn portals, dimensional storms, or his mother literally ripping the castle roof off just to yell at him… Exelia cleared her throat, calling everyone back to the most urgent point:

"The plan for Skaldi. We need to define routes, mission objective, and who will go."

Eleanor nodded, regaining her Queenly posture in the blink of an eye. The change was almost frightening—from worried grandmother to absolute monarch.

"The reconnaissance needs to be quick, discreet, and based on concrete information. We need to know exactly what we're dealing with before sending the army."

She touched the rune, expanding the northern region of the map. The black mist over Helvengar pulsed, as if reacting to the touch, and Amelia instinctively took a step back.

Exelia crossed her arms.

"The safest route would be south, skirting the mountains. But safe isn't fast. The east coast takes two days… with a very high risk of ambush."

Sylphie walked to the projection, her gaze sharp, analyzing every detail with the meticulous precision of someone trained to think of every inch as a possible point of attack or instant death.

"There's another point," she said, gesturing and pulling the map away from the captured capital, expanding the border towards Azalith.

The image of a large fortress nestled among mountains appeared, with blue-silver flags waving magically.

"The princess of Skaldi," Sylphie explained. "She's been here, in Azalith, since the forced evacuation when the attack began." Kael blinked.

"Damn… did I forget about the princess?"

"Of course there's the princess," Irelia replied, with that 'you really don't pay attention to anything' energy. "We travel with her for days."

"Hey, don't look at me like that, I'm just tired!"

Amelia let out a nervous chuckle.

Sylphie continued, ignoring the side conversation:

"She might have important geographical information. Blind spots in the terrain. Ancient hunting trails, caves, shelters, geological fault areas… and details of the capital that only a member of royalty would know."

Exelia nodded, her posture even more rigid.

"And political details," she added. "Who betrayed, who fled, who resisted. The resistance might be sending information, but nothing beats someone who has known the kingdom since birth."

Exelia nodded, her posture even more rigid. Kael took a deep breath, straightening his posture as if finally accepting that he was already neck-deep in trouble—so at least he could look like he knew how to swim.

He looked at the map, at Sylphie, at Exelia, at his grandmother, at the girls… and blurted out:

"Okay. Let's split this up."

The sentence landed like a snap of the fingers rearranging an entire room. Everyone straightened up, attentive.

Kael continued:

"I'm going after my mother."

Amelia's eyes widened.

"Are you sure? Like… absolutely? Properly suicidal?"

"It's not suicidal," Kael retorted, though his tone suggested otherwise. "It's… necessary. And if I don't go, the chances of all of us dying increase considerably."

Sylphie bit her lip, worried, but didn't argue. She knew it was true. Eleanor did too—her silence said it all.

Kael turned to Sylphie, Amelia, and Irelia:

"The three of you go to Azalith. The princess needs to be informed of the situation, and you will extract everything useful she has: old maps, escape routes, underground structures, anything. We need an infiltration route before we even think about confronting the Black Witches."

Irelia crossed her arms and nodded. Amelia took a deep breath, trying not to look terrified. Sylphie simply gripped the hilt of her dagger tightly at her waist—not out of fear, but for safety.

Kael continued, now looking at Exelia:

"I want a group of witches specialized in remote observation. No close contact. No physical contact. Just strategic surveillance. Watchful eyes on Skaldi territory, but far enough away not to be detected."

Exelia pounded her fist on her chest in a martial gesture.

"I'll organize it immediately. I'll use the best trackers. None will get within five kilometers of the contaminated border."

"Great." Kael turned to the map, as if speaking to it as well. "We can't risk anyone being captured. If those dark witches really are after primordial blood… I don't want anyone else on their list of ingredients."

Eleanor pursed her lips grimly.

Kael then snapped his fingers, as if finally remembering an important detail:

"Oh, and someone needs to send a message to Altharion. Tell the Director that the three of you are going to see the princess. I don't want her to panic thinking it's a kidnapping or a threat."

Amelia murmured:

"Ugh… he'll give us another lecture for using the portal without warning."

"Let him," Kael replied, shrugging. "A lecture is better than the princess throwing a throne at your heads."

Sylphie chuckled softly—a short, nervous, but genuine laugh.

With everything properly divided, Kael took another deep breath.

But this time he seemed less desperate.

More… prepared.

Still terrified, of course—no one would fail to know who he was facing—but determined.

Eleanor approached, placed a hand on his shoulder, and her voice came low, almost a whisper:

"Be quick, Kael. The sooner your mother knows, the less damage there will be."

He let out a short laugh, more air than sound.

"That doesn't reassure me at all, Grandma."

"It wasn't meant to reassure you," she replied seriously. "It was meant to remind you to run."

Kael shook his head.

"I'll be back before you reach Azalith."

Sylphie looked up, and for a moment it seemed she wanted to say, "Don't go, be careful, come back alive."

But what came out was only:

"We'll be waiting."

Kael nodded, turned toward the portal room, and began to walk—aware that each step brought him closer to a force that could embrace him or turn half the continent to dust.

Behind him, the three girls organized themselves to leave. Exelia was already beginning to summon her scouts. Eleanor returned to the map, though her fingers trembled only slightly—something that no one, except Kael, would have noticed.

The plan was in motion.