The wind had finally died down. Between the hastily raised tents, weary silhouettes still moved about — tending to wounds, filing reports, searching for familiar faces in the crowd.

Sylvara returned from the eastern flank, followed closely by Luno's and Kaelthys's units. Their formation still stood — tired, but intact. Farther off, I spotted Lyss's unit as well — the one we had sent to spy near the Dwarves' club, Black Anvil.

And when the club finally appeared behind her, I froze for a moment.

They had made it.

The Dwarves were here. Around two hundred students, covered in dust, but standing tall. At their head, I recognized two figures that stood out from the rest: a massive man with a grim face, braided beard, and a gaze like stone — Dvarim Brôkhund — and beside him, a woman who seemed to laugh even in the middle of chaos, Brunna Kaelgrun.

Despite my exhaustion, I found myself smiling. So she managed to bring back the Dwarves' club… Sylvara really is competent.

I took a step toward them, but my eyes immediately caught the wounded. Too much blood on uniforms, too many rough bandages. Some could barely stand.

— "Hikari!"

She rushed over at once, panting, sweat glistening on her forehead.

— "Yeah?"

— "Take care of every student, even the lightly injured. And conserve your mana, understood? Don't drain yourself. Make your team handle it."

She rolled her eyes and sighed.

— "I know, I know! Stop treating me like a kid!"

She brushed a strand of hair behind her ear, feigning annoyance.

I watched her walk away and sighed inwardly.

A kid? Her? After everything she's shown me? Yeah, right…

I shook the thought away and raised my voice.

— "Unit leaders! Report to me — now!"

The camp quieted instantly. Footsteps approached.

A few minutes later, everyone stood gathered around the large improvised table.

Faces lined up in the torchlight around me. Sylvara — straight as a statue, wings folded. Luno — arms crossed, his usual smirk softened by fatigue. Kaelthys — focused, already leaning over the maps. Dvarim and Brunna — side by side, one grumbling under his breath, the other flashing her eternal mischievous grin. Shaliel stood a bit apart, flanked by two of her elven commanders, her features drawn but her eyes still burning with that fierce pride unique to her people.

To my right, Ayame watched in silence, hands clasped behind her back. To my left, Kairen idly spun a knife between his fingers, saying nothing.

I looked at them one by one, feeling a strange warmth deep in my chest.

It was the first time I saw them all together — humans, elves, dwarves, dragonkin — gathered around the same table. Not as rivals, but as allies. And for a fleeting moment, I thought this battle might be more of a blessing than a curse.

I pressed both palms against the table and spoke.

— "Give your reports. Quickly."

Sylvara stepped forward, her voice steady but worn.

— "Before we arrived, a powerful woman attacked Lyss's recon unit — and the Black Anvil club as well. They joined forces to bring her down."

I turned toward Lyss. Her eyes had darkened, her fingers twisting nervously.

— "Unfortunately… some didn't make it," she said quietly.

I exhaled slowly, trying to ease the tightness in my throat.

— "I see…"

Our eyes met. That look of guilt in hers always tore me apart.

— "It's not your fault," I told her gently. "You all did what you could. The demons are to blame, not you. Focus on the next phase of the battle. We'll mourn them when it's over — not before."

A murmur rippled through the group, then, as one, several voices rose around me.

— "Understood!"

The Pact of Azure's rallying cry echoed across the camp — one unified breath. It sent a shiver down my spine.

Sylvara continued, her tone returning to that of a commander.

— "There should be no more students in the eastern area. However, the professors are still fighting the invading dragons. We encountered some on our way here."

I nodded.

— "All right. Next…"

My gaze fell on the two Dwarves, both leaning against the table, broad and unbothered.

— "Dvarim, Brunna — I'll need temporary command over your club for the duration of this crisis. We need to coordinate everything properly."

Brunna rolled her eyes, a smirk tugging at her lips.

— "Tch… look at him. Acting all high and mighty."

Dvarim burst into a booming laugh that rattled the mugs on the table.

— "AHAHAHA! I like this human! He's got guts!"

I stood there, staring. Seriously? Even now? Still?

I was at my limit.

— "All right, here's the deal," I snapped. "Either you hand over command, or you handle it alone — far from here. I don't have time for your childish crap."

Shaliel stepped forward, head held high, eyes shining with sincerity.

— "You should listen to him," she said. "I've seen what Kaito can do — his skills, his leadership. You'd be wise to trust him."

Her words caught me off guard. I hadn't expected that. For a moment, I hoped it would silence them.

But Dvarim roared with laughter again.

— "Look at this honorless elf! AHAHAHA!"

Brunna crossed her arms, her tone dripping with disdain.

— "Pathetic. First dragons, now elves praising humans. What's next?"

I felt the tension rise. The air thickened. Kaelthys, Sylvara, and Shaliel all stiffened, ready to retort. Their eyes flashed like blades.

— "This isn't the time for your ego games," I said coldly. "Or your racial pride. Lives are at stake, damn it, so—"

I didn't get to finish.

A roar split the sky.

The ground trembled beneath our feet.

I looked up. A black dragon, smaller than the three titans we'd already seen, circled above the medical camp. Its body radiated raw fury, its wings whipping the air into waves of mana. It opened its jaws — and I understood.

It was about to breathe fire.

All around me, chaos erupted. Mages raised their hands, soldiers ran toward the clearing, healers tried to evacuate the wounded. But I knew they wouldn't make it in time.

The word escaped my mouth before I even thought it.

— "Oblivion."

The sky split open.

In an instant, the dragon was headless. A torrent of flames burst from its severed neck, mingled with coagulated blood. The beast crashed into the valley, its massive body still smoking.

Silence followed.

I stood frozen, fists clenched, legs shaking. My skull felt like it would burst, pain slicing through my chest. My mana was nearly gone. A thin trail of blood ran from my lips. I wiped it away with the back of my hand, trying to keep my composure.

When I turned back toward the table, everyone was staring — stunned. The two Dwarves, especially. Their usually expressive faces were locked in mute disbelief.

No one outside the Pact of Azure had ever seen Oblivion. No one even knew what it was.

But I had made up my mind. After what I'd learned about the Balance, I didn't want to hide it anymore. Sure, I was revealing a trump card — but what good was a power I couldn't use freely? If I wanted to protect my troops, pretending was no longer an option.

Besides, keeping it secret was already disturbing my mana flow… so whatever. One way or another, this power would become known.

I straightened, my voice colder than ever.

— "I'll say this one last time. Either you come under my command… or you leave."

Silence lingered for several seconds. Then Dvarim exchanged a glance with Brunna.

She shrugged.

— "Hmph. Fine, human. We'll follow you. This time."

I nodded — no triumph, no smile. Just a cold, quiet relief.

— "Good."

I turned to Sylvara and Ayame.

— "You have full authority to organize the troops. Healers will reinforce the medical camp. Scholars take command of the communication relay. We hold this ground — no matter what happens."

They nodded firmly. And as everyone moved back to their posts, I let out a long breath.

My body felt hollow. Each heartbeat burned through my veins; every breath grated against my ribs. That last use of Oblivion had drained me to the bone.

I staggered out of the tent, leaving Sylvara and Ayame to handle the troops. I trusted them. It was all I could still do without collapsing.

The evening air smelled of ash and burnt resin. Around me, the camp stirred with quiet purpose — murmured orders, hurried steps, silhouettes weaving through the firelight. I looked for a shadowed corner beneath a twisted pine and sat down cross-legged.

Silence returned, slowly.

I closed my eyes.

The outside world faded away.

I felt golden threads of mana rise beneath my skin — timid at first, then stronger, as if they recognized their master after a long absence. They coiled along my arms, around my ribs, converging at the center — where my heart still beat faintly.

I breathed slowly, guiding each current with care. With every inhale, a little more energy returned. With every exhale, a little pain left. My body began to hum again, softly, like an instrument being retuned after a battle.

Seconds turned to minutes.

I lost track of time.

When I finally opened my eyes, the world had changed.

The camp I had left half-empty now teemed with life. Banners waved under the torchlight; dozens of units moved in perfect coordination. The great emblems of the major clubs — Glass Hand, Crimson Crown, Black Anvil, even Shadow Oath — all stood side by side.

I blinked, still groggy, struggling to make sense of it. And that's when I saw her.

Reina stood beside me — straight-backed, arms crossed, her blue coat fluttering in the wind. Her steel eyes met mine before I could even speak.

— "Report," I rasped.

She didn't smile. Reina never smiled when reporting a victory.

— "All the major clubs are here," she said evenly. "I've unified them all under your command."

I stayed silent for a moment.

My fingers tightened slightly against the dirt. Around us, the camp stretched like a living network — precise, efficient, flawless. The torches aligned in rows, the units moving with surgical discipline. It had become… an army.

I looked at her again, unsure whether to laugh or shiver.

Reina is terrifying.

I rose slowly, stretching my aching shoulders, feeling the mana hum once more in my veins.

— "Good work," I said quietly.

She raised an eyebrow.

— "I merely optimized your orders, Chief."

I let out a short laugh, not sure if it was amusement or unease.

— "If I ever become a tyrant, you'll be my conscience."

She answered without hesitation:

— "I already am."

I turned away to hide my smile, gazing down at the camp below. Hundreds of torches flickered in the night — an ocean of light and determination.

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