Bleugh.
Arden collapsed to his knees, coughing up blood.
Elara was beside him instantly, fingers checking his pulse.
Too fast. Racing. Mana exhaustion.
Relief flooded through her as the rhythm began to steady.
She'd seen this before.
In another life.
Another timeline.
Where Arden hadn't been there to change things.
Serra crouched nearby, her ice magic flickering weakly.
Brick sat heavily in the snow, covered in wounds but grinning.
Rykard's three swords had finally stopped moving, resting in the snow.
All of them were alive.
We're alive.
In my first timeline, half the students died in this battle.
But Arden changed it.
Again.
She reached for Arden's hand without thinking.
His gloves were torn to shreds.
Deep cuts covered his palms—wounds from gripping his blade too tightly during the fight.
He gave everything.
As Elara held his hand, she saw not the confident tactical coordinator who'd led them to victory.
Just a thirteen-year-old boy who'd pushed himself far beyond his limits.
Was he always this young?
The thought struck her painfully.
In her previous life, she'd been the one making desperate gambles.
The one trying to save everyone.
The one failing.
But here, now, Arden had taken that burden.
Changed the outcome.
He hasn't even had his coming-of-age ceremony yet.
And he's already carrying the weight of the fortress.
Commander Thorne approached, his expression carefully neutral.
"Status of the students?" His tone was cold, professional.
The question irritated Elara—he could see they were wounded—but she kept her voice steady.
"Mana exhaustion. Combat injuries. But alive."
Other soldiers gathered around, some removing helmets in respect.
Rangers who'd been saved by their actions.
Veterans who'd watched students accomplish the impossible.
Arden stirred, wiping blood from his mouth.
"Arden!" Elara leaned closer.
"I'm here."
He tried to speak, but only a weak cough emerged.
She placed her ear near his mouth, catching the whispered words.
"The... Ember Sage... not dead..."
Her blood ran cold.
"What did he say?" Brick asked, struggling to his feet.
Elara stood, adjusting her twin swords.
"He says the Ember Sage isn't dead. We need to secure it before—"
"AHAHAHAHAHA!"
Laughter erupted from where the shaman's body had fallen.
Everyone spun toward the sound.
The Ember Sage was standing.
Wounds still bleeding.
Staff broken.
But standing.
"Foolish children! You think fire can be killed?"
The shaman's body began to glow.
Orange.
Then red.
Then white-hot.
"NO!" Arden tried to stand, but his legs gave out.
"Everyone back!" Elara commanded.
Flames erupted from the Ember Sage's form.
Not attacking.
Consuming.
The creature's flesh burned away, becoming pure fire.
A figure made of flames stood where the shaman had been.
"The Overlord sends his regards! This war has only just begun!"
The fire-form raised what remained of its arms.
"IGNIS EVACUO!"
A pillar of flame shot skyward.
When it faded, the Ember Sage was gone.
Evaporated.
Escaped.
Only scorched snow remained where it had stood.
Silence.
Then Brick's voice, hoarse with exhaustion:
"Did that thing just... laugh at us and leave?"
"Retreat protocol," Commander Thorne's voice cut through the shock.
"Get the wounded inside. NOW!"
Rangers rushed forward with stretchers.
Arden was lifted carefully—one arm already in a makeshift splint from where he'd blocked a Berserker's strike.
"Careful with him!" Elara commanded the soldiers carrying the stretcher.
She walked alongside, watching Arden's face.
His eyes were closed, but his lips moved.
She leaned closer to hear.
"...thousands... coming... need to prepare..."
Even unconscious, he was still trying to warn them.
Just like before.
Always trying to save everyone.
Even when it kills him.
"Arden..." she whispered.
His hand twitched, as if reaching for his sword.
Then he slipped deeper into unconsciousness.
They passed through the gates.
THUD.
The massive doors slammed shut.
The courtyard erupted with celebration.
"WE WON!"
"THE STUDENTS KILLED THE OVERLORD!"
"DRINKS ALL AROUND!"
Rangers gathered around them, cheering, laughing.
"You magnificent bastards! That monster would've torn through our walls!"
"Your courage saved us all!"
"VICTORY!"
Elara wanted to scream at them.
We didn't win.
The real Overlord is still out there.
The Ember Sage escaped.
This isn't over.
But she kept silent.
Let them have their moment.
Some were celebrating the rescued rangers.
Others the defeat of what they thought was the enemy leader.
Kar'eth is a strange place, she thought bitterly.
So many dead, yet they celebrate.
She'd seen this before.
In her first life, the fortress fell three days after this battle.
Because they celebrated too early.
Arden was carried toward the medical ward.
"Move faster!" Elara urged.
"He needs treatment immediately!"
One of the medics checked Arden's wounds.
"Mana exhaustion. Multiple lacerations. Possible internal bleeding. We'll do what we can."
As they took him away, Elara heard his whispered words:
"...fake... decoy... real one still watching..."
Even now. Even barely conscious.
He's still thinking tactically.
Lieutenant Helena Vex approached, her expression grim.
"They're celebrating too early. This battle is far from over."
Finally. Someone who understands.
"The Ember Sage escaped," Elara reported.
"It'll report back to the real Overlord. Everything we did. Every technique we used."
"And the enemy forces?"
"Still massing in the mountains. The rescued rangers reported thousands. Maybe more."
Helena's jaw tightened.
"The Commander needs to hear this. Now."
As they walked toward the command center, Elara tasted blood in her mouth.
When did I bite my tongue?
The battle's effects were catching up to her.
Exhaustion.
Mana depletion.
The crushing weight of knowing what was coming.
She stopped at a water trough, washing her face.
Her reflection stared back.
Red-rimmed eyes.
Blood-spattered face.
I look like I did in my first life.
Right before everything fell apart.
But this time was different.
This time, Arden was here.
Changing things.
Making impossible victories possible.
The breach in the wall from the Ember Sage's attack.
In my first timeline, that breach came during the main assault.
We couldn't hold it.
But now it's repaired. We know where to reinforce.
Another change. Another advantage.
She allowed herself a small smile.
We might actually survive this.
----
Commander Thorne stood over a map table.
Helena, Elara, and several veteran commanders gathered around.
"The ranger reports confirm it," Davrin said grimly.
"Approximately three thousand hostiles. Ironhide Berserkers, Razorback Drakes, and unknown entities. Organized into military formations."
"Two corps," one commander added.
"Each containing multiple squads. Disciplined. Coordinated."
"Can we hold?" another asked.
"With our current garrison?" Davrin's expression was doubtful.
"It will be difficult."
He looked at Elara.
"Valekrest mentioned something before he collapsed. About a 'real' Overlord. Explain."
Elara chose her words carefully.
"What we fought today was a decoy. A fake designed to test our capabilities and gather intelligence."
Murmurs of disbelief rippled through the room.
"You're certain?"
"The Ember Sage confirmed it before escaping. It said 'the Overlord sends his regards.'" Elara met Davrin's eyes.
"The real threat is still in the mountains. Coordinating the army. Planning the assault."
"This... entity," Helena said carefully.
"The energy from the mountains. What are we actually facing?"
Elara hesitated.
How much can I tell them?
How much will they believe?
"An ancient being," she said finally.
"Something that's been imprisoned or sleeping for centuries. Now awake. Calling an army to its banner."
"And why would monsters follow something that just woke up?" a veteran commander challenged.
Elara's response was cold.
"What creature would challenge a being that can emit energy like that from kilometer away? Power like that doesn't need tradition or history. It demands obedience."
Silence fell over the room.
Some faces showed doubt.
Others, dawning horror.
"Do we have a name for this thing?" Davrin asked.
Elara searched her memories from the previous timeline.
Arden had mentioned it once.
Right before the fortress fell.
"The Flame-Crowned Overlord," she said quietly.
The temperature in the room seemed to drop.
"I've heard that name," one older ranger said, voice shaking.
"Old stories. Legends from before the kingdom was founded. A monster that ruled the Crimson Wastes centuries ago."
"Legends aren't real," another scoffed.
"The spear that nearly destroyed our wall was very real," Helena countered.
"As was the fire magic that nearly killed our students."
Davrin nodded slowly.
"We need to prepare a defense strategy. And we need reinforcements."
"Sir," a messenger interrupted.
"Dispatches have already been sent. Northern Command is mobilizing support."
"How long until they arrive?"
"Knight-Commander Michel's unit is closest. Estimated arrival: twelve hours."
"Ranger-Commander Voss's forces are being redirected. Estimated arrival: eighteen hours."
Twelve hours.
In my first timeline, the attack came in eight.
We died before help arrived.
Elara's hands clenched.
"Commander, I recommend we don't wait twelve hours to begin preparations."
"Agreed." Davrin gestured to the map.
"All commanders, we're implementing war protocols immediately. I want defensive positions optimized, supply lines secured, and evacuation routes established for non-combatants."
The meeting continued for hours.
Veterans showcasing their experience.
Formulating battle plans.
Elara's input was requested frequently.
They're listening to me.
To a thirteen-year-old student.
Because I fought beside them. Proved myself.
It was strange.
Validating.
And terrifying.
When most of the commanders had left, only Davrin, Helena, and Elara remained.
"One more question," Davrin said, his voice low.
"That shadow transformation Valekrest used. The complete conversion—black hair, void eyes, darkness manifestation. What was that?"
Elara met his gaze steadily.
"His Integration. Shadow Devil core. It's... unique."
"I've never seen an Integration like that."
"Neither have I, sir. But it works. He's saved more lives with that power than I can count."
"And you?" Davrin's eyes were sharp.
"You fight like someone with experience far beyond your years. Both you and Valekrest. It's uncanny."
Here it is.
The question I've been dreading.
"We've both had... exceptional training, sir. And motivation to excel."
"That's not an answer."
"It's the only one I can give."
They stared at each other.
Finally, Davrin nodded.
"Fine keep your secrets ."
"Yes, sir."
As Elara left the command center, she headed for the medical ward.
I need to see him.
Make sure he's alright.
----
Arden lay in a bed, bandaged and unconscious.
His breathing was steady.
Color returning to his face.
Elara pulled up a chair, sitting beside him.
For a moment, she just watched him sleep.
It seems some things just don't change.
Your tried to change things alone.
Failed alone.
Died alone.
But you appeared in this timeline.
Like you were always meant to be here.
Changing everything.
Saving everyone.
She reached out, taking his bandaged hand.
"You can't do this alone either," she whispered.
"No matter how much you know. How much you've prepared."
"You'll need help. Need us."
"So don't die on me, Arden Valekrest."
"We have a fortress to save."
His hand twitched in hers.
Eyes still closed, but responding to her voice.
"...won't die..." he mumbled.
"...too stubborn..."
Despite everything, Elara smiled.
"Good. Because I'm holding you to that."
She stayed there for hours.
Watching over him.
Like he'd watched over all of them.
We're in this together now.
And this time, we'll both survive.
-----
Deep in the Crimson Wastes, in a tent that glowed with eternal flame, something stirred.
Ten feet of iron and fire.
Intelligence that had lived for centuries.
The real Flame-Crowned Overlord.
He watched through a scrying flame as his Ember Sage materialized before him.
Wounded.
Weakened.
But alive.
"Report," the Overlord's voice was like grinding stone.
"The students are... formidable, my lord," the Ember Sage rasped.
"Especially their leader. The shadow-user. He nearly killed me."
"But you learned what I needed?"
"Yes. Their capabilities. Their techniques. Their Integration powers. All documented."
The Overlord's ember eyes gleamed.
"Excellent."
Around him, thousands of Berserkers knelt.
Organized into precise military formations.
Drake Riders in aerial positions.
Heavy infantry at the front.
Shock troops in reserve.
All waiting for the command.
"Prepare the assault," the Overlord said.
"The time to attack is near."
"But my lord," the Ember Sage hesitated.
"They're expecting us now. They'll be ready."
"Let them be ready." The Overlord stood to his full height.
"I've seen what they're capable of. It's impressive. For children."
He raised a hand, and flames danced across his iron skin.
"But they cannot stop what's coming."
His laugh echoed through the tent.
"By dawn, Kar'eth will burn."