Four days had passed in a blur of chalk and calculations.
Leon stood on the assembled ramparts facing the gate, watching the evening light fade into twilight. His hands gripped the wooden railing hard enough to make his knuckles white. Behind him, mages moved through final preparations, checking positions, reviewing the formations Leon had spent every waking hour perfecting.
Had they had enough time to familiarize themselves with the new patterns? The aerial defense grid was complex- twelve mages working in perfect synchronization, sharing targeting data through linked circles. They'd only managed three full practice runs.
Three.
Leon's trump card- the formation he'd been installing for the past six hours-had finally clicked into place just before sunset. A massive formation that spanned the entirety of the ramparts, a formation that would draw from hundreds of mages, a formation that could change the flow of battle entirely.
Theoretically.
He needed more time. Another week. Another month. He could have improved the efficiency, added redundancies, tested edge cases. The formations worked, but they could be better.
Below, behind the spikes and trenches and ditches and traps, behind his carefully calculated magical barriers and carefully drawn circles, the army waited.
Six thousand strong.
Leon had watched them arrive over the past two weeks. Soldiers from a dozen regions, each group marching in with their banners and their hope and their trust that someone- anyone- knew how to win this.
They looked solemn now. A mass of humanity waiting for the inevitable, each person silently hoping to be among the living when it ended. If it ended. When it ended?
Leon wasn't sure anymore.
The mages lined the ramparts beside him. More were positioned on the towers erected closer to the gate—forward positions that would be either strategic advantages or elaborate tombs depending on how the next few hours went.
How many would survive?
How many would live to see victory?
Would they be victorious?
The writhing mass beyond the gate cast doubts through Leon's mind like shadows. The view had become clearer as the gate stabilized over the past days. They could see the other world now in sharp detail- the dark cliffs, the purple sky, and the creatures.
So many creatures.
The defenders numbered roughly 6,300 including support personnel. The invaders numbered in the tens of thousands. Maybe more. The swarms had grown over the past week, drawn to the gate like moths to flame. They could see through to this side now, Leon was certain. Could see the prey waiting on the other side of reality's thin membrane.
Their chances of survival were, at best, thirty percent.
Maybe less.
Damn him for calling himself a mage. Damn him for opening his mouth and nodding when he should have confessed. He could have been far away in Pelenna, living an uneventful life, praying for those fighting at the gates to win, wishing them the best from a safe distance.
Or maybe still in Tokyo, his biggest worry being the projects he needed to-
Leon caught himself.
There were no what-ifs. No point in wallowing in the past or imagining alternate paths. He was here. That was the reality.
Among those soldiers on the ground were four boys whose mothers had pressed charms into his hands and asked him- trusted him- to look after their sons. Finn, Torren, Marcus, and Jace, standing in formation somewhere in that mass of humanity, believing in him.
This entire force looked up to him to lead them to victory.
They were wrong about his immense magical power. They were wrong about so many things.
But damn it, he was not going to go down here, to lose.
He was High Arch-mage Leon, the most powerful mage in the kingdom.
It was a lie. But maybe if he acted like it was true, if he made the right decisions and his formations held and luck was on their side- maybe the lie could become real enough to matter.
Why was it taking so long?
They'd been standing here for an hour. The sun had set. Stars were emerging in the darkening sky. Soldiers shifted restlessly in their formations. Mages checked and rechecked their positions.
Maybe the calculations were wrong. Not that he was complaining. Maybe they still had time. Maybe the gate wouldn't open tonight, and they could-
A sound like steel being ripped apart tore through the camp.
Leon's thoughts shattered. Every head turned toward the gate.
The edges shimmered. The air around the tear rippled like heat distortion, and Leon felt something change in his bones- a pressure releasing, a barrier dissolving.
The veil dropped.
The other world came into sharp, terrible focus.
The gate was open.
For one frozen heartbeat, nothing happened. The two worlds stared at each other across the threshold- the writhing mass of alien life on one side, the desperate defenders on the other.
Then the first creature stepped through.