I listened to Celeste give a report to the Knight Commander. Apparently, Vlore's team was sent out as pickets to track the advance of the beastkins. A task they utterly failed at as they were hardly in their lookout positions for more than a few hours before they were ambushed.

Their pulses of warning to the team were disrupted when they fled, so she didn't know what happened to the others, but she reported that she could faintly feel messages coming from the directions of the Triad. Before anyone got close enough to relay what was happening to everyone, she was knocked unconscious.

No way that worm Vlore died, I thought, a small smile spreading across my lips. If Celeste was here without him, he wasn't in the cages. So he is either back at the Triad… Or hiding in a hole in the ground. Should be feeling right at home then.

Then Celeste got what she deserved while she sat in a cage and starved for the last couple of days while they built the… spell circle. Which was nothing. Forcing the thoughts of my recent experiences from my mind, I focused on the entertainment of Celeste, who was getting water and some hard bread for a meal while I poked at my broken nose.

The pain of prodding my nose must have put some heat into my stare because her eyes flicked to me momentarily. I thought I saw a tightening of her shoulders and a slight flush of embarrassment on her cheeks. That sight almost made getting a broken nose worth it. Almost. However, I could have been wrong about the flushing, as my eyes were more focused on the bricks she called hands rather than her face. Those weapons were dangerous.

It wasn't like my nose hadn't been broken before, but with my elven features, the signs of a broken nose were particularly noticeable. My people just can't pull off the old veteran look. I thought in disappointment, all of the old grizzled centurions I had seen flashing through my mind. There was definitely a look that could only get by combining age and a hard life.

Elves looked basically the same as they aged — the only real change being their hair graying and some hardly noticeable wrinkles around the eyes and mouth, which only added a feeling of graceful elegance — until they shriveled up like a raisin in the last couple of decades of life. Centuries of aging, all forced into a few years. Really not much to be complaining about, but I won't be a proper legionary if I don't find something to bitch about.

Focusing back on what Celeste was saying, I listened to her briefly describe arriving at the beastkin fort and joining the other captured scouts, then watching the 1st Turma arrive, and finally, me and my trainees. Then she talked about the spell and what it was supposed to do. Even while talking about me, she couldn't stop the compassion — and disgust at what the spell was doing — from leaking into and dripping off her words.

Because it wasn't just me. It was a spell — whatever that entails — perfected by hundreds of test subjects in the past. Hundreds of Olimpians were tortured to death, their souls ripped from mortal flesh. Unease and outright disbelief at her words were plain to see on the knights. I even felt them probe my mind to verify the statement. All I could do was nod, struggling to contain the memories bubbling up. Then Celeste told them of our — well, their escape and the second beastkin army sailing and marching down the river, whose vanguard she assumed the knights dealt with.

"This changes things," the Knight Aqua said, having taken off her helmet.

After a moment, the Knight Centurion spoke, "Not as much as you would think. We still have to accomplish our mission. The difference now is that we know more beastkins are coming. And our message never reached Cross."

"What is your mission," Celeste hesitantly said, "If it's not too much to ask, domine."

"You all had quite the journey. Almost made it back, too. Go around the next bend, and the Triad is within sight." The Molten Man said, not answering the question and looking down the river. "If you listen, you can hear their war drums beating even now. They haven't started their attack, but it will begin soon. While saving a legionary is always a pleasure, we acted only because you and your pursuers posed a risk to our operation. Alerting the beastkins to a potential threat from behind before the assault begins could ruin our counterattack."

I thought about it briefly before saying, "The boats."

He nodded, acknowledging my insight, "Correct, they pose too great of a threat to the Triad. Our aqua knights can detect the barges on the river, but they can't even say how many or where exactly they are.

Whatever castings the beastkins are using, we cannot fully pierce them. When the veil drops, we will come from behind, destroy their towers, and slip away."

His eyes flicked to shore, where the other knights were walking to the edge of the forest. Behind them were the bodies of beastkins, and I knew he was considering leaving us on the shore.

Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.

"Give us weapons, and we won't slow you down, Brackus." Said a weak but confident voice. Looking over, I saw Markus sitting up on his elbows, his eyes sunken but burning with conviction.

"Never thought you would, Markus." Said the Knight Centurion with a fierce smile. "I was just… putting together a new plan. The Legion never leaves a man behind."

"Yeah," Markus said in a wry voice, slightly smiling back, "but sometimes a man will choose to remain behind, entirely on his own accord, of course."

Brackus's smile turned into a showing of teeth at the comment, "The Legion can't help what decisions individuals choose to make."

**********

Kanieta stood with her two attendants in the shadows of a tree, watching Green and the others on the raft interact with two knights. The rest of the knights were on the far shore, gathering gear from the dead Crescent Moon Faction wolves and forming into four-man squads. A couple of knights took the equipment out to the raft, and then the nailed-together logs zipped off down the river at several times the speed as previously.

At the same time, some of the couple dozen knights disappeared into the forest before turning towards the fortress, while the others moved along the shoreline, pacing the raft. As the knights moved away, the bodies of the dead sank into the ground, the grass and leaf-covered soil peeling back and closing back up like it had never been disturbed.

Seconds passed into minutes, and still, Kanieta did not let her cousin or guard speak. Any time they even so much as moved, a whip of shadow would lash at their necks. And if they let out a whimper of pain, a second whip would strike them. They were too confident in her — and their own — powers.

Kanieta saw the strength of the Olimpians, and while in many ways their magic was greater, it did not mean the Olimpians didn't have just as many advantages of their own. She would not underestimate the Olimpians. So minutes passed, and eventually, she felt her cousin jump in surprise to the right. Looking left slowly, Kanieta saw a man already chest high, rising from the ground.

There was no sound to signify the man's appearance from one second to the next. Once entirely out of the ground, the crouched man looked around the nighttime forest before stalking downstream without leaving a spot to mark his passage. Kanieta got the feeling from watching the knight that he was not entirely relying on his eyes to search for enemies.

And she would be disappointed if the knight was. Even after she could no longer see the legion knight, she waited a little longer just to be extra sure. Finally deciding it was time, Kanieta pulled the shadows back like the leaves of a flower opening, slowly breaking her spell and dropping them a half inch to the ground.

A tree that you could not even see its trunk a second before — due to the particularly dark shadows cast by the low-hanging boughs — suddenly birthed three kin. Without checking to see if the other two were following, Kanieta took off towards the river at the fastest pace she thought Hurring could manage. Bears were not known for their speed, after all.

"Keep up or swim," Kanieta said over her shoulder with an amused tone. Leaping over the water, she formed a disk of shadow under her foot before jumping again, leaving behind the disk for those who followed.

Shadows were not meant to be solid or even permanent. What shadow outside of a cave was ever constant? And even there, bring light into the darkness, and the shadows dance. While there was truth to the statement that a mage is only limited by how much mana they can gather and their beliefs and imagination, unless you were completely insane, there were some undeniable truths to the world.

A truth like shadows not being solid. While Kanieta could make shadows tangible, to a certain extent, it costs significantly more mana than creating a dark, obscuring cloud. And that costs increased the longer she wanted the spell to stay stable.

Two other people were also jumping on the shadow disks, causing her to infuse more mana into the spell. With every leap she took, Kanieta rapidly burned through her mana, causing sweat to appear on her forehead and her breathing to pick up. A quick check of her mana reserve, and she knew she could not maintain the three of them all the way across.

Nearing the shore, a smile twitched at the vixen's lips. While she would make it across the river without getting wet, the two behind her could not be so certain. Nareta, sticking to the tips of her tails, probably knew this. After all, it wouldn't be the first time I dropped her into the water on… accident.

As Kanieta gracefully landed on the shore, panting slightly at the mana she expended, she turned in time to see Nareta leap into the air and use a small blast of fire to throw herself over the last shadow disk. Clever girl.

Kanieta smirked at her cousin, who returned the look. She then turned to watch in amusement as Hurring's foot struck the soft disk, causing his footing to fumble, and his last leap became a slow plunge into the water. Not giving the large kin time to climb out of the river, Kanieta ran off into the forest on the northern side of the Rush.

It wasn't long before a suspiciously straight-faced Nareta and a scowling Hurring caught up to her. Utilizing most of her mana to cross the river had taken more out of Kanieta than she had first thought, so she was keeping the pace light.

The three shadowy forms flickered through the forest, picking up the pace as Kanieta's mana refilled. Even at their slow speed, it was only ten minutes before they skirted around a few scouts and patrols and appeared at the edge of the forest, looking at the distant walls and warband formed up outside of them.

"Hurring," Kanieta said, "pretend to be a scout and report to the Redtail Chieftains. Tell them to focus on the walls and let the Crescent Moon Faction assault along the barges. Tell them not to push too hard; we don't want that many casualties before we take the fortress."

"If they ask, where will you be, Chieftain?" Hurring asked, fully turning to look at her.

A secretive smile spread over Kanieta's lips, "With the mages, of course."

"As you command." Hurring slowly said as he turned, throwing one last comment over his shoulder as he went, "…Oh, and your tails look particularly… fiery this night, Faction Leader."

A pealing laugh sounded at his words, and Kanieta's eyes widened in horror as a shiver ran down her spine. Whirling around, she frantically smacked at her middle tail, where a magical flame was happily consuming only her fur without exuding any heat.

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