Zeke’s neutral expression tightened into a faint frown as he looked down at the empty city below.
What should have been a major Legion stronghold lay silent and abandoned. It was the fourth such case in as many days.
This went far beyond anything he had anticipated.
He had expected the Legion to avoid unfavorable engagements. With their intelligence network, they could predict his movements to a degree and evacuate forces ahead of time. But this was something else entirely.
Wherever he struck, he found nothing. No resistance. Not just minor outposts, but even the lynchpins of the outer defenses had been vacated without hesitation, as if their loss carried no weight at all.
A troubling realization began to take shape, deepening his frown.
Still, Zeke refused to act on suspicion alone. Only after traversing the eastern regions in full, and finding two more major strongholds equally deserted, did he allow himself to accept what he had already begun to suspect.
The Legion had abandoned the east.
And that was only what he could confirm with certainty. The implications stretched far beyond a single region.
Abandoning the east would leave the remaining territories dangerously exposed. It opened the door to flanking maneuvers and force concentration elsewhere. That meant the Legion had either prepared extensive contingencies in advance, which seemed unlikely, or they had chosen to relinquish the entire outer ring.
Two days later, Zeke crossed into the southern reaches of Rukia. A treacherous mountain range and a broad river marked the boundary between east and south, though to the Alexandria, such obstacles were meaningless.
There, he found his answer.
The south had been abandoned as well.
From that point on, the conclusion was unavoidable. The Empire had withdrawn from the outer regions entirely. In a single, deliberate stroke, they had ceded more than half the country.
For the half-elves, it meant freedom. Families could leave their hiding places, fields could be reclaimed, and towns could breathe again.
For Zeke, there was no satisfaction at all.
By abandoning land instead of lives, the Legion had preserved its full strength. The same number of troops now defended less than half the territory.
It was a sobering thought.
It meant that from now on, the resistance he would face at any given stronghold would have doubled, if not more. No matter how much his strength had grown recently, Zeke still wouldn't dare face four Archmages at once.
It had only been through clever use of an ambush that he had driven off two Archmages in his last battle, and that was after eliminating their commander first.
But what if there were two or more commanders in his next fight?
The thought alone gave him a headache.
All the momentum he had gained from that victory would be lost if he were forced to retreat again and again. But what was he supposed to do about it? The Legion was already gone. They had cut off their tail so decisively that there was no price left to extract.
Entire cities and defensive structures lay abandoned. Fortresses and supply depots were left behind, as if the Legion had never cared about them in the first place.
Even the prison camps had been emptied.
Zeke’s jaw tightened. His fingers stilled against his leg for the first time since he had arrived.
The converted prisoners had been taken away. The stubborn ones had been executed in their cells.
For a brief moment, something cold and sharp twisted in his chest. Not grief. Not rage. Just the bitter certainty that this, too, had been calculated.
They had anticipated his raids. They had cut off his path to grow stronger before he could take it.
A slow breath later, his expression smoothed once more.
Looking out over a deserted settlement, Zeke began tapping his leg in a steady rhythm, a sign of deep concentration. In moments like these, it often helped to analyze the facts as he knew them instead of obsessing over what he didn't know.
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For one, he could roughly guess the motives behind the Legion’s sudden withdrawal. It had likely been triggered by his own actions.
By defeating one of their strongest outer positions, he had demonstrated that they could not hold their territory. So instead of allowing him to bleed them dry, they had cut off an arm to save the body.
But that could not have been all.
From what he knew of the Legion, they never acted with only a single objective in mind. A move of this scale had to conceal a deeper motive, some goal he could not yet see.
Was it meant to provoke a specific reaction from him? Or was it aimed at one of the other forces? Something else entirely?
With the information he had, it was impossible to say, and that left Zeke deeply unsettled. There was no worse feeling than dancing to a tune he could not even hear.
Before he could draw any further conclusions, Zeke felt a subtle vibration against his chest. Looking down, he saw that it came from the small brooch pinned there. It was a golden clasp shaped like a four-leaf clover.
This was the brooch his elven patron had given him, marking him as one of their chosen champions.
Lady Goldleaf had hinted at a deeper purpose behind the gift, advising him to keep it on his person at all times. Until now, however, Zeke had never noticed anything unusual about it aside from the strange material it was made of.
That changed in the next moment.
A faint voice emerged from the pin. It was not a mental connection, but an actual sound, carried by the small ornament itself.
“Can you hear me, Ezekiel?”
Zeke recognized the voice at once.
“Is that you, Lyriel?”
There was a brief pause before the voice spoke again. “Yes. It is me. I am speaking to you through your proof of allegiance.”
Zeke nodded slowly. He had already guessed as much. The real question was why, if the pin had such a function, they had not contacted him earlier or more often. A tool like this would have been invaluable for coordinating with his allies.
The answer came a moment later. “This connection is only possible through the grace of Yggdrasil, so I will not waste words. The situation has changed.”
“...Are you referring to the Legion’s recent movements?”
Another brief pause followed. It seemed the connection was not instantaneous.
“You already know? That makes this easier. Yes, that is what I am referring to. From multiple reports, we have learned that the Legion has withdrawn from the outer regions.”
Zeke had already confirmed that himself. Now he waited to hear the true reason for the sudden contact. If the Matriarchy was using such a means to reach him, it would not be just to relay information he could have discovered on his own.
As expected, Lyriel revealed the real purpose a moment later. “We have determined that it is unfeasible for any of our twelve chosen forces to continue acting independently. Therefore, we plan to merge them into broader fronts to match the enemy's denser concentration of power...”
Zeke frowned at once. It was not a single choice of words that bothered him, but the entire concept and the thinking behind it.
What made the Matriarchy believe they could order something like that?
Did they think he was a pawn to be moved at will? That he would hand over his forces and submit to another commander without question?
He understood the implication well enough. Refusal would mark him as uncooperative at best, hostile at worst. Compliance, on the other hand, meant surrendering control of his troops and trusting strangers with their lives.
Neither option sat well with him.
And if even he, who had more reason than most to fight the Empire, felt this way, what about the other forces? They had been drawn into this war by the promise of riches, not duty or honor. How could they be expected to accept such overbearing arrangements?
Lyriel, apparently mistaking his silence for agreement, continued. “We have arranged a meeting of all faction heads. It will be held in the northeast, in the former border city closest to the Great Forest: Elvengrad.”
Zeke listened in silence.
“The meeting will take place six days from now. That should be enough time for every faction to send a representative. The Lady expects you to arrive on time, or at the very least, to send a representative.”
Zeke began tapping his leg again, his mind working quietly.
“...Did you hear me?” the brooch asked when he did not respond.
Only then did Zeke speak. “I heard you. Do not worry, I will be there.”
The brooch fell silent for a moment before Lyriel’s voice sounded one last time. “Very good. I wish you good fortune on the path ahead.”
Zeke did not move even after the brooch fell silent. He remained rooted to the spot for a long while, his mind working through the implications of what he had just heard.
All at once, the Empire’s hidden agenda became clear.
By consolidating their forces, they were forcing the allied powers to do the same. But could they?
Setting aside the Matriarchy’s overbearing attitude, even if left to their own devices, Zeke doubted it would be simple for the previously scattered forces to face a now unified Legion as one.
They were not an army. Profit was the only thing holding them together in the first place. Such a mishmash of forces, how could they ever trust one another with their backs? It was a brilliant move, really.
In comparison, the Legion functioned like a well-oiled machine. Twice the troops could achieve three times the result.
But what about them?
Even working together, it would be a miracle if they did not hinder one another. They had no coordination. No trust. No unity. And yet, no choice.
Zeke would be the first to admit it. Against a Legion stronghold two or three times more powerful than any he had faced so far, he had no chance of victory with his current forces.
That left only one path open. He needed allies.
The realization weighed heavily on him. He had thought that not knowing the Legion’s true plans was the worst feeling imaginable. Now that he could roughly guess their intent, he felt no better.
The most insidious traps were those one could not avoid, even when aware of them in advance.
His only remaining hope was that the Matriarchy had some kind of plan for the meeting in six days. Otherwise, he could foresee a grim future for the next phase of the war.
With his mind made up, Zeke ordered the Alexandria to reverse course. He chose a pace that would allow him to reach the meeting point two days in advance. The speed was slow enough to preserve Mana, but still more than enough time to scout the location ahead of time.
And he would not be going alone. He would bring his entire force with him.
Just in case.