The battle had waged to a near standstill, with just a few stragglers still pouring from the gate. Most of the soldiers now slumped where they had stood, too tired to move, their adrenaline waning with the relief of the battle's cooldown. The stronger ones trudged through the battlefield, either seeking to quench their thirst or looking for comrades still alive - Leon couldn't tell.
The front line still held. Over a hundred soldiers still waded through the battle, cutting down any monsters coming through. They stood in loose formation, shields heavy, weapons held in tired grips.
The battle had continued - gory and violent - but Leon had been mostly numb to it. A ball of wild magic energy had almost killed him and dozens of others, yet he had... absorbed it? His mind had been running in circles, too confused by the event to settle or even notice the battle proceeding before him.
Lord Casimir had taken over command of the mages, giving Leon a break from the "strain." Leon had accepted, grateful for the excuse to leave.
He'd stepped back from the front line, too shaken to keep his composure. The eyes around the ramparts had started bordering on uncomfortable - staring at him like he was the greatest and everything was okay with him around. Like his presence alone guaranteed victory.
He'd almost died.
Two years into this world and he had really, really, come close to dying. Would he have gone back to his world if he'd died here, like transmigration manga always went?
Doubtful. He'd felt death approach, close enough to touch. Had embraced it even, resigned to the explosion tearing him apart.
And... survived.
By some sort of ability he didn't understand and couldn't explain.
Leon had retreated to his tent sometime during the continued fighting. He'd been sitting in the same position since he arrived - slumped on his cot, staring at nothing, trying to process what had happened.
The drawings on the walls haunted him now. Chalk formations and mathematical diagrams that reminded him of a time before things got too real. Before he went to war. Before he'd touched raw magical energy and felt it flow into his body like water finding a drain.
'What was that ?'
The question circled endlessly. No answers came.
Shouts rang from outside. Not alarmed - celebratory. Cheering. Leon's head lifted, confusion cutting through the fog of exhaustion.
A minute later, footsteps approached his tent.
"High Archmage, pardon the intrusion."
Aldric pushed through the flap, and a part of Leon - a part that still worked, that wasn't numbed by confusion - was glad to see him. Still alive. Still whole.
"The monster wave has been defeated," Aldric said, excitement clear in his voice despite the exhaustion that lined his face. "The gate is clear now. The first clear is done."
Done.The word felt surreal. Leon had read about first clears - the initial battle when a gate opened, the desperate fight to establish a defensive perimeter. He'd known it would be brutal. But reading about it and living it were different universes entirely.
"There will be a report and planning in the central tent," Aldric continued. "We'll wait for you, of course. Take your time, High Archmage. You've earned your rest."
He ducked back out before Leon could respond.
Leon sat a while longer, thoughts racing. The first clear was done. They'd survived. He'd survived. And now there would be questions - reports, analysis, planning for the permanent garrison.
His worries could wait. They'd have to wait. The Archmage had places to go.
Leon forced himself to his feet. His body protested - when was the last time he'd slept? Eaten? He couldn't remember. Time had lost meaning.
He straightened his robes - still stained with chalk dust and smoke - and headed for the tent flap.
Outside, warm sunlight bathed his face.
Daylight had set in sometime ago. The sun was cresting the forest now, revealing everything to the eye. The battlefield stretched before him - a tableau of exhaustion and relief. Soldiers sitting in groups, sharing water and quiet words. Mages recovering. The command staff organizing the aftermath with mechanical efficiency.
The night had ended.
Leon took a breath - the air still tasted of smoke, but underneath it was something else. Morning dew. Forest pine. The smell of life continuing despite everything.
As he walked toward the command tent, soldiers noticed him. One by one, they stood. Not saluting. - too tired for that - but straightening, watching him pass with expressions Leon couldn't quite read.
Respect. Awe. Relief that he was among them.
The weight of their expectations settled on his shoulders like a physical thing. They believed in him. Believed the High Archmage would keep them safe, would find solutions, would lead them to victory.
If only they knew.
The command tent was already filled with officers and senior mages when Leon arrived. Lord Casimir stood at the head of a large table covered in maps and hastily scrawled reports. He looked up as Leon entered and nodded with what might have been relief.
"High Archmage. Thank you for joining us."
The room fell quiet. Everyone turned to look at him - not the casual attention of colleagues, but something more intense. The mages especially watched him with an expression Leon was starting to recognize: the look of students before a master, hoping to understand even a fraction of what he knew.
If 'nothing' could be taught, he would gladly lead the lesson.
Instead, he nodded and moved to stand at the table.
"The first clear is complete," Casimir began, his voice steady despite the exhaustion in his eyes. "The gate remains open, as expected, but the initial wave has been repelled. We held the line."
Murmurs of agreement around the tent. Someone - Leon couldn't see who - added quietly: "Thanks to the High Archmage's interventions."
Leon kept his expression neutral, even as his stomach twisted.
"Fallen?" one of the officers asked.
"The count is ongoing ," Casimir replied. "Initial estimates suggest significant losses, but far less than previous first clears of comparable scale. The defensive formations" - he gestured at the map, at the positions Leon had designed - "proved highly effective."
More glances at Leon. More weight settling on his shoulders.
"We'll need to establish a permanent garrison," another officer said. "Rotating shifts, supply lines, fortifications. This gate will require monitoring."
The discussion continued - logistics, supply chains, rotation schedules. Leon listened with half his attention, the other half still circling back to the same question:
'What happened to me?'
He'd touched the overloading formation and it had just... disappeared. Into him. Through him. The energy had to have gone somewhere, but where? He felt normal. Tired, yes, but not like he was carrying the destructive force of a magical explosion inside his body.
Was it still there? Could he access it? Control it?
Should he try?
"High Archmage?"
Leon's attention snapped back. Casimir was looking at him expectantly. So was everyone else.
"I apologize," Leon said. "Could you repeat that?"
"The defensive formations," Casimir said. "You mentioned during the battle that you had additional designs. Improvements that could be implemented during the garrison phase."
Had he said that? Leon couldn't remember. But it sounded like something the character he was playing would say.
"Yes," Leon said, committing to the bit. "I'll need to review the performance data from last night. See what worked, what needs adjustment. The aerial grid performed well, but the cannon..."
He trailed off, remembering the melting muzzle, the formation overloading.
"The cannon was magnificent," Vera said from her position near the map. Her sharp eyes studied him with undisguised curiosity. "Three shots that turned the tide. Though I confess, High Archmage, the power requirements seemed... excessive. How did you manage to stabilize such a formation?"
'I didn't,' Leon thought. 'It almost killed everyone.'
"Trial and error," he said instead. "And significant room for improvement. I wouldn't recommend using it in its current state without extensive redesign."
That, at least, was honest.
The meeting continued for another hour - plans within plans, strategies for the long siege ahead. Leon contributed where he could, his engineering mind useful for logistics even if his magical knowledge remained fraudulent.
Finally, Casimir called an end to it.
"Rest," he said, addressing the room. "All of you. We've earned it. Tomorrow we begin setting up the permanent garrison. But today, we acknowledge what we've accomplished."
People filed out, exhausted but victorious. Leon moved to follow when Aldric appeared at his elbow.
"High Archmage, if I might... what you did last night. The absorption." Aldric's voice was quiet, almost reverent. "I've never seen anything like it. The magical theory alone - how did you conceptualize such a technique?"
Leon looked at him - at this man who'd been kind to him, who'd shared books and knowledge.
He wanted to tell the truth. Wanted to say: 'I have no idea what I did. I'm terrified. I need help.'
Instead, he said: "It was... instinctive. I'm still processing it myself."
Aldric nodded as if this made perfect sense. "Of course. Such advanced techniques often transcend conscious understanding. But if you ever wish to discuss the theoretical implications, I would be honored to hear your thoughts."
"Thank you, Aldric."
The older mage smiled and left.
Leon stood alone in the command tent, surrounded by maps of a battlefield he'd helped create, wearing the identity of a man who didn't exist.
He'd survived the first clear. Survived the night. Survived his own fraud being exposed - not by incompetence, but by demonstrating an ability he couldn't explain or control.
The sun was fully up now, streaming through the tent flaps. Warm and bright and indifferent to human struggle.
Leon walked outside. The camp was settling into recovery - medical tents buzzing with activity, supply wagons being unloaded, soldiers cleaning weapons and armor with the practiced efficiency of people who'd done this before.
Life continuing. The world moving forward.
And Leon, the Archmage, moved with it, still pretending he knew what he was doing.
Alone with questions no one else could answer.