The terrain confirmed our suspicions even before the enemy appeared.
The march slowed naturally as we entered the narrow region between hills. The path forced any large force to stretch too far, creating blind spots and limiting fast maneuvers. It was the kind of place chosen by someone who wanted to control the rhythm of battle.
"Where he wants to fight," Vespera murmured.
"Or where he wants to observe us up close," Elara replied.
The advance was interrupted shortly after by clear signs of enemy presence. Not a direct attack. Marks. Residual energy. Enough evidence for us to know we were not alone.
Liriel closed her eyes for a moment. "He's here."
The warning didn't cause panic. Only focus.
Formations were adjusted quickly. Elves advanced along the side elevations. Humans held the central line. Our group remained in a mobile position, ready to respond wherever needed.
Then the air changed.
The pressure came first—heavy, dense, as if something had been placed on everyone's chest at the same time. Seasoned soldiers swallowed hard. Some took a step back without realizing it.
"He's manifesting," Elara said.
The Sixth General appeared without spectacle. No explosions. No roar. He simply appeared ahead, as if he had always been there. His presence alone was enough to silence the field.
"You advanced farther than I expected," he said, his voice far too calm.
"We didn't come to talk," I replied.
A subtle smile appeared. "Did you come to prove something?"
The first move came from him. Not a direct attack, but a wave of pressure that tested our defenses. The human line retreated half a step, but didn't break. The elves responded with precision, canceling part of the impact.
"Better coordination," the General observed. "Interesting."
The battle truly began right after that.
Smaller creatures advanced, not to win, but to force responses. It was a continuous test. Every reaction of ours was being analyzed.
"Don't use everything," Elara shouted to me.
I obeyed. The new method remained restrained. I moved only as much as necessary, maintaining control. Vespera eliminated critical targets with efficiency. Liriel kept the pressure balanced, using enough power to contain, not to crush.
Even so, it became clear far too quickly.
He was still above us.
Every advance we made was neutralized with calculated ease. There was no desperation in his movements. Only patience.
"He's measuring us," Vespera said as we fell back a few meters.
"Then we don't give him everything," I replied.
The General took a single step forward, and the impact was immediate. The ground cracked under the pressure of his presence. Soldiers closest to him dropped to their knees.
"You've grown," he admitted. "But still not enough."
Liriel advanced then—restrained, precise. The clash between them was brief, but intense. Enough energy to push him back a few steps.
The entire field felt it.
"Enough to force a response," Elara said.
But not enough to win.
The General smiled again. "Now I understand."
The retreat was ordered shortly after. Not out of panic, but awareness. Remaining there would mean pointless losses.
The withdrawal was organized. Difficult. Costly. But different from last time.
We didn't flee.
We retreated.
When a safe distance was reached, silence fell heavily. The wounded were treated. Quick reports were exchanged.
"It was different," Vespera said, breathing deeply.
"It was," I replied. "But it still wasn't enough."
Liriel watched the point where he had disappeared. "He didn't pursue us."
"Because he didn't need to," Elara replied. "He already saw what he wanted."
That night, no one pretended it was a victory.
But no one spoke of defeat either.
The second encounter made one thing clear.
We were no longer irrelevant.
But the true confrontation was still to come.