"Huh? Keep us out of the public view?" Eleanor frowned, confusion written plainly across her face. "What do you mean?"
The commander exhaled slowly, folding Aldric's letter with deliberate care before setting it on the table. "In his message, General Aldric outlines his belief that it would be safest for you both to act as though you are simply… exceptionally talented humans. For now."
Ryan's brow furrowed. Eleanor leaned forward slightly.
"Why?" they asked in unison.
"The Coalition's highest leadership can be informed," the commander continued, his tone steady but grave. "But the wider population must not know, so that the Elves think it was just a rumor."
"Why?" Eleanor pressed again, her voice sharper this time.
The commander met her gaze without flinching. "Because they made the same mistake we might."
He paused, letting the words settle.
"We assassinated one of their heroes years ago—when he was weak, unprepared, and still learning. If word spreads that two human heroes exist, I can all but guarantee there will be attempts on your lives. Many of them."
Silence filled the room.
"I cannot promise that we would be able to protect you," he said quietly. "I agree with Aldric's judgement."
"But wouldn't it be a massive boost to morale?" Eleanor countered. "Two human heroes-after all this time?"
"Yes," the commander admitted. "It would be inspiring."
Then his voice hardened.
"And yet if our soldiers were to learn that we had two heroes—only to lose them before they ever reached their potential—they would fall into despair."
Ryan felt a cold weight settle in his chest.
"Hope sustains the soldiers," the commander continued, "Despair breaks them."
Ryan spoke before Eleanor could get in another word. "Alright."
He looked at the commander, then nodded once. "I trust Aldric. If he believes this is the safest course, then, of course, we'll do it."
Eleanor hesitated, then exhaled slowly. "…Fine."
"Good," the commander said, relief flickering briefly across his expression. "Your true identities will remain hidden until you are strong enough to defend yourselves. When the time comes, your revelation will change the tide of this war."
He stood, straightening his uniform. "For now, go to the food hall. Eat. Rest if you can, but be quick."
His eyes flicked briefly toward the window, where the distant thunder of explosions still rolled across the mountains.
"Judging by those explosions, I'm not certain how long Aldric can hold."
Aldric's POV
The blast struck the watchtower beside him head-on.
Wood exploded into splinters as the shockwave tore through the tower like paper.
Another blast followed immediately, missing its mark and striking the pathway leading into the encampment. Aldric felt the impact shudder through his boots, a violent tremor that ran up his legs and into his bones.
"Front line!" he bellowed. "Shields ready! They'll be marching up that path within a few minutes, finally we get to taste some Elven blood!"
An eardrum-exploding cheer erupted from the humans.
Smoke billowed across the rise, thick and choking, carrying the sharp tang of burned alchemical powder and scorched earth. Below them, at the base of the slope, the elven host stretched across the valley floor in impossible numbers-ranks upon ranks of figures lit intermittently by the orange glare of firing engines.
They were advancing up the pathway now, meaning the human scouts below were utterly wiped out.
The elves were surging up the path with reckless speed, hoping to catch the heroes before they could escape the mountains.
Siege constructs lined the mountain's edge, long-barrelled mechanisms etched with glowing runes. Each discharge came with a thunderous crack, followed by a screaming arc of energy that slammed into the camp's forward works.
After each blast, they were measuring. Adjusting.
"They've got the correct range now," an officer shouted over.
"I know," Aldric growled.
Aldric stepped to the very edge of the rise, cloak snapping violently in the heated wind, and slammed his palm into the ground. Earth answered.
The slope shuddered as layers of stone thickened beneath the barricades, raw rock grinding upward to reinforce the failing wall. Cracks still spread-but slower now.
Another blast hit.
Men were thrown back, armour ringing as bodies struck stone. Aldric didn't look away.
"Archers, Ready!" he commanded. "Fire on my mark and do not waste my arrows!"
"Loose!"
Hundreds of flaming arrows streaked down the slope, vanishing into the mass of elves below. Some found their marks. Most disappeared into shields.
At most tens of elves died. Tens out of tens of thousands.
It didn't matter.
This was never about winning.
Aldric tightened his grip on his blade, eyes fixed on the single path leading up the rise—the only way through, the only way forward.
Time, he thought grimly.
All we're buying is time.
Time for the fortress to prepare, time for Ryan and Eleanor.
The blast of another magic cannon snapped him back to reality.
"Alpha squad! Push the first and second boulders now! Archers! I want to see a sea of fire and blood, the first man to run out of arrows gets my personal respect!" Aldric shouted.
Another cannon fired.
Aldric didn't flinch.
Ryan's POV
Ryan quickly finished up at the food hall. He was nearly fully recovered, more than enough to move around by himself easily.
Ryan and Eleanor, carrying even more supplies than they arrived with, walked over to the perimeter of the camp where their guard squad was waiting.
They wouldn't take the horses any further. The path would become impossible to cross with a horse.