"Director Thorne." Alaric drew every eye in the room simply by opening his mouth. "I understand your optimism about the Academy’s upcoming generation. But I’m afraid we don’t have the luxury of months or even weeks waiting for prodigies to finish their studies."

He let that sit for a second before continuing, eyes shifting to Iris.

"Not to sound disrespectful, Lady Iris. But if we handle these crises ourselves rather than leaning on students still in training, we do two things at once, we solve the immediate problem, and we preserve the next generation for the future they were meant for. They shouldn’t inherit failures that belong to us."

The hall was quiet for a long moment.

Director Thorne exhaled slowly, rubbing his temples. "As much as it pains me to admit it, I agree with you, Alaric."

Caden Varrin, who had been leaning against the obsidian table sat up. "Then what do you suggest?"

"Yes." Thorne adjusted his spectacles. "You clearly have something already mapped out. Let’s hear it."

Iris said nothing. Her violet eyes fixed on Alaric with the patience.

Alaric stepped toward the map spread across the table’s center, its parchment edges flickering faintly.

He studied it in silence for a moment, one finger moving across the surface — starting at Molgrith, drifting east through the forest zones and dungeon sectors, crossing through Kaelenor, continuing toward Ashton.

Nobody spoke.

"As the reports confirm," he said, "Molgrith carries the highest concentration of Dranox activity. Breaking surface near these zones—" he tapped the black-ink markers along the dungeon sectors "—spreading outward. Villages cleared. Trade routes abandoned. The Spires cannot keep pace with how fast the numbers climb."

Professor Ardyn leaned forward. "So you’re proposing we concentrate there? Deploy the Spires and the specialized unit you mentioned earlier?"

Alaric gave a small smile that didn’t commit either way. His finger kept moving — past Molgrith’s border, through the forests, sliding through Kaelenor — and stopped at Ashton.

Ardyn frowned. "What are you doing?"

"Look at this." Alaric tapped between Molgrith and Kaelenor. "First confirmed sightings — here." His finger moved. "Second wave — here." It moved again. "Third — here." He let the silence following each point do its own work. "Now look at the dates on those reports. Look at the direction they’re traveling."

Several knights leaned in closer.

Cedric tracked the progression without moving from his seat.

’He’s not showing an outbreak,’ Cedric realized. ’He’s showing a migration.’

"They’re not spreading randomly," Alaric said. "They’re moving. These are not isolated incidents, this is a march. And the direction of that march ends here." His finger rested on Ashton.

The hall went completely still.

Caden pushed off the table. "They’re targeting Ashton? They actually dare to—"

"We tighten security immediately," Cedric said. "Full defensive formation across the city perimeter. Reinforce the outer guard before—"

"That still doesn’t end it, Cedric." Alaric’s voice came through without rising.

Cedric stopped.

Ardyn turned sharply. "What now?!"

Alaric stood with both hands behind his back, eyes still on the map. "The Dravetians are not acting out of desperation. Every piece of this has been placed deliberately. They are watching — reading our formations, tracking where our forces move and how fast we commit to a threat." A pause. "They are testing us. Playing a game, and currently we are losing it."

Director Thorne’s brows pulled slowly together, the faint glow behind his yellow eyes sharpening as something shifted. "Hmm." He leaned forward. "Neither Ashton... nor Kaelenor... nor Molgrith."

"Exactly," Alaric said. 𝙧𝙚𝙚𝔀𝒆𝓫𝓷𝙤𝓿𝒆𝙡.𝒄𝙤𝓶

Ardyn’s frown deepened. "What are the two of you talking about?"

Before Alaric could answer, Iris moved. She leaned forward from the head of the table, resting her chin on one gloved hand, violet eyes carrying the quiet glint of someone who had just connected the same thought half a second before anyone else.

"Xylaris Kingdom," she said. "Right beyond Ashton’s eastern border."

Alaric met her gaze. "That’s it, Lady Iris."

The room processed that in complete silence.

Cedric exhaled slowly, his eyes moving across the map — Ashton, and just past it, the border where Xylaris began. ’A diversion,’ he thought. ’The entire Molgrith outbreak. The trail of sightings through Kaelenor. The apparent march on Ashton. All of it — designed to pull the empire’s eyes and forces in one direction. And while every available knight and mage rushes north to hold that line...’

"Xylaris sits completely unguarded," he said aloud.

"From the beginning," Alaric confirmed. "They built the diversion piece by piece, kingdom by kingdom. Patient enough to let the panic build naturally. When the Spires and knight regiments commit north to Molgrith and Kaelenor, the Dravetians redirect the Dranox south — straight into Xylaris through the gap we created by abandoning it."

Caden sat very still. "Why Xylaris specifically?"

The question went into the silence and stayed there. No one answered it.

But several people exchanged glances across the table.

Iris straightened. "I’ll say this, Alaric — your ability to read a battlefield extends well beyond the battlefield." A brief, genuine nod. "Your reasoning is as sharp as it’s ever been."

Alaric inclined his head. "It’s an honor, Lady Iris."

"Then we move to response." Her tone shifted into the register of someone issuing decisions rather than seeking them. "Let’s hear your plan."

Alaric turned back to the map. "We play their game — and then we cheat." He tapped Molgrith. "We send a team to the outbreak zones. C-rank Spires. Let the Dravetians see it. Let them believe their plan is working perfectly."

"And the moment they redirect the Dranox south toward Xylaris," Iris completed, "believing our attention is fully committed north—"

"We already have our real force in position and waiting," Alaric said. "They walk into a counter they never anticipated."

Director Thorne sat back with a long exhale. Iris studied the map for one quiet moment, then gave a single nod. "For this operation — who do you have in mind?"

Alaric didn’t answer immediately.

He turned slowly, eyes traveling around the table, passing over knights and professors one by one — until they stopped.

On Cedric.

A smile moved across Alaric’s face. Entirely too comfortable.

’That absolute bastard,’ Cedric thought, with the calm stillness of a man watching a bridge give way from a very short distance.

I just finished traveling from Molgrith to Kaelenor to Ashton. I have students that I’m responsible for. I was promised a carriage and a reasonable schedule and I have been on the road for weeks—’

"My first recommendation," Alaric said pleasantly, "is Knight Cedric Virelion."

Cedric blinked. A smile arrived on his face out of pure trained reflex. "Haha. Of course." His internal monologue, meanwhile, was doing several things simultaneously, none of which were appropriate for the Imperial Grand Hall.

Iris turned to him. "Knight Virelion. Will you accept this mission?"

"It would be my honor, Lady Iris." He bowed his head with complete professionalism.

’No. It absolutely would not. Someone at this table please object. Anyone. I am asking.’

Across the table, Alaric had turned back to the map before the full extent of his satisfaction could show. "For the remaining positions — two Tier-3 Spires from the northern divisions, and two upper-ranked mages from the Academies. We need both combat capability and speed in equal measure."

Thorne nodded. "I’ll have candidates reviewed by morning."

The meeting continued. Plans formed, assignments confirmed.

The map shifted under pointing fingers and the hall’s atmosphere moved from tension to execution.

Cedric sat with impeccable composure throughout.

’Alaric,’ he thought, watching his oldest friend direct the operation with characteristic smoothness, ’I will find a way to repay you for this. Slowly. Thoroughly. With great personal satisfaction.’