The next morning, I found myself back at Training Ground Seven before dawn. Helena was already there, as expected.
But she wasn't alone because Marcus stood beside her, looking distinctly uncomfortable in the predawn cold. He clutched a travel mug of coffee like a lifeline.
"You actually send the enchanter," Helena said approvingly.
"I said I would."
"Most people say a lot of things." She turned to Marcus. "You. Can you make combat enchantments?"
"Uh, yes? That's kind of my specialty." Marcus took a long drink of coffee. "What did you have in mind?"
"Weapon enhancements. Armor reinforcement. Detection wards. Anything that keeps this idiot alive in actual combat." She jerked a thumb at me.
"Hey," I protested.
"You have a problem with being called an idiot?"
"Not the idiot part. The 'actual combat' part. I've been in actual combat."
After all Hadeon Ravana is a nobility and he had some kind of training back at his House. Some kind.
"Dueling an academy student isn't actual combat. That's sparring with an audience." Helena's voice was flat. "Actual combat is when someone's trying to kill you and there's no referee to stop it. No rules. No mercy but the cold intensity of death. The certainty that one must die and the other must survive. And sometimes, they both die."
Her words hung in the cold morning air.
"You've been in that kind of fight," Marcus said quietly.
"For twenty years." Helena turned back to him. "So yes, I want enchantments that work in real combat. Not academy-approved decorative bullshit. Real, functional, life-saving enchantments."
Marcus straightened up despite the early hour. "I can do that. Though it'll take time and resources."
"He has resources," Helena said, nodding at me. "Don't you?"
"Family coffers are available for important things, and this should qualifies."
"Good." Helena drew her sword. "Then let's start with basics. Marcus, watch how Ravana moves in combat. I want you to design enchantments that enhance his natural style."
"Wait, we're doing this now?" Marcus asked. Taking hurried steps back.
"No time like the present. Set up over there and take notes. Draw diagrams or whatever, do your genius thing." She turned to me. "You. Warm up, do some stretching and we'll do same drill as yesterday."
Marcus scrambled to the side, pulling out materials from his bag. Within minutes he had a portable workspace setup, complete with measurement crystals and analysis tools.
The man was nothing if not prepared.
"Ready?" Helena asked.
"Do I have a choice?"
"No."
She attacked.
And....
.....Two hours later, I was exhausted, Marcus had three notebooks full of measurements, and Helena actually looked satisfied.
"Your movement pattern is interesting," Marcus said, reviewing his notes. "You favor evasion over blocking, using the environment over direct confrontation, and precision over power."
"That's called not being strong enough to block Adrian's attacks and a way for weaker people to try and measure to the strong."
"No, it's called having a distinct combat style." He sketched something quickly. "I can work with this. Give me a week and I'll have prototypes for enchanted gear that enhances your natural advantages."
"Speed?"
"Reaction time boost, but not raw speed because that's inefficient, if you're fighting someone stronger then they'll probably be faster or as fast as you anyway. But faster processing and decision-making. You'll have more time to think in combat."
"Perfect."
"Evasion assistance, minor spatial awareness enhancement, and terrain adaptation." He was getting excited now, talking faster. "Oh, and I can integrate some of the anti-holy disruption work into defensive layers. Won't stop Adrian completely, but it'll give you an edge."
Helena listened to all this with arms crossed. When Marcus finished, she nodded once. "You know your craft. Good. Ravana, you have your enchanter. Marcus, you have your project. I'll coordinate training around the gear development."
"Wait," I said. "Coordinate? Does this mean...."
"It means I'm tired of wasting my talent on ungrateful nobles who think combat is a performance art." Helena's smile was sharp. "You want someone to train your people? Fine. I'll do it. But I'm doing it my way. Real training and real preparation with real results."
"Your way is perfect." I said.
"Damn right it is." She sheathed her sword. "We start tomorrow. Bring your inner circle or whatever. I want to assess everyone's combat ability."
"Done."
"And Ravana?" She paused, her face going stiff and cold. "Thank you."
Before I could respond, she was walking away, back straight, moving with that predatory grace that marked true warriors.
Marcus whistled softly. "Did you just recruit Helena Crimsonfang?"
"I think I just did?" I blinked.
"Dude. She's a legend. Like, actual legend. Do you know what she did at the Battle of...."
"I know. That's why I wanted her."
Marcus grinned. "You're building something real here, aren't you? Not just a faction. An actual force, it's as if you're planning for more than Adrian."
"That's the plan, and who knows?" I shrugged. If I could use them to survive the mess that I found myself, then what's there not to build?
"Cool. I'm in. Obviously." He started packing up his equipment. "Though I should mention, the poison analysis you wanted? Damian dropped it off last night."
My attention sharpened. "And?"
"It's Shadowbane alright, and an xtremely pure one too. Professionally synthesized. At that level." His voice dropped. "Hadeon, this stuff costs more than most people make in a year. Whoever gave this to Adrian has serious resources."
"How long to make a fake?"
"Visual and olfactory replica? Two days. Perfect chemical replica that would fool magical analysis? Impossible."
"Don't need perfect. Just need it to look right when Damian pours it."
"That I can do." He finished packing. "Though I have to ask, why fake your death? Why not just catch the poisoner? Why not just go after Adrian?"
"If we go after Adrian, then I won't know who else they would use the next time. I want to catch them all from the root if possible." I replied calmly.
Marcus considered this. "That's... actually brilliant. Terrifying, but brilliant."
"I'll take that as a compliment."
"It was meant as one. Terrified respect is still respect."