Jae was already moving. Ember Step flared beneath his boots, every stride burning the dirt into glowing ash. He tore forward through the mess, his Dragonfire Blade roaring into shape.
Pure flame solidified into steel's form, the weapon's glow searing the dark with each arc. Raiders rushed him, but every sweep of fire carved through armor and flesh alike. Men dropped screaming, smoke curling from their blackened plates.
"Form up!" Jae barked, his voice cutting across the panic. His red eyes swept the field, locking the cadets into focus. "Shields front! Get into lines!"
Byun crashed down beside him, spilling from shadow like ink pouring over the dirt. His blond hair stuck out wild in the firelight, grin sharp enough to look unhinged. "You know, farmboy," he said, flicking his coin into the air even here, "if you keep pulling hero stunts like this, I'm going to start charging admission."
Shadows writhed out from under him, tendrils snaking toward the raiders. They snapped around ankles and yanked men flat, smashing them against the ground with bone-cracking force. One soldier clawed at the dirt, trying to rise. Byun strolled up and tapped him lightly on the chest. Shadows surged like water and froze him in place. "Stay down. Doctor's orders."
Across the burning camp, a peal of laughter joined the fight. Tirel spun into the fray, hair catching the torchlight like molten copper. Flame curled at her fingertips, rising and snapping into long whips. "Well, this is lively," she said, her voice lilting as if she'd wandered into a dance hall instead of a battlefield. A lash of fire cracked outward, cutting clean through a raider's chestplate. "Jae, darling, you might've mentioned we had midnight guests. I would've dressed for the occasion."
"You're overdressed already," Jae shot back, ducking a strike before cleaving his opponent in two with a blade of fire.
Her smirk widened. "Mmm. Flattery and fire. Keep talking."
She twirled again, fire snapping with every step. Her flames coiled like dancers around her, striking in tandem with her movements, each spin pulling more heat into the air. Raiders hesitated before her, unsure whether they faced a woman or the storm itself. Those who stepped forward burned.
He didn't announce himself. He didn't raise his voice over the roar. His Sovereign Vein domain poured out in silence, pressing over the battlefield like a tide. The very air thickened around him, dragging the enemy down. Raiders stumbled into the weight, their movements slower, their chests heaving as though they were drowning on dry land.
Sun stepped into their stagger, his twin swords gleaming. His cuts were not flashy but clean, exact. He moved like a grinder wheel, steady and relentless, each strike tearing another soldier down. His presence bent the fight around him, the sheer inevitability of his blade grinding the momentum into his favor.
Beside him, Fin was a streak of light. Lightning snapped across his arms, spears of crackling energy flying into the enemy line and skewering men who thought themselves safe at the edges. Every cast of his power lit the battlefield in brief white glare, carving raiders out of shadow and showing the cadets where to strike next
For a moment, the camp steadied. Jae's fire burned bright, Byun's shadows swallowed men whole, Tirel spun flames in a circle of death, Elise guided frightened cadets into formations, and Sun's domain turned the fight into a weighted slaughter. Fin's lightning spears cut down stragglers before they could regroup. The defense was no longer scattered panic but something approaching a line.
But the raid didn't break. More enemy soldiers poured in, their discipline cold and unnerving. The camp buckled again. Fires spread faster than cadets could stamp them out. Shouts for medics mingled with screams of the dying. A horse thrashed in its tether, caught in flame, its shriek splitting through the clash of men.
Lord Veynar descended from the ridge at last. His steps were drawn out, deliberate, savoring the walk as if every second belonged to him alone. His spear spun in lazy arcs, broad sweeps that sparked against the rocks. His crimson cape dragged the dirt, gathering ash and flame in its folds.
He did not run. He did not need to. His army made way for him, parting into clean channels that closed again behind him with drilled precision. Even the cadets could feel it, the weight of someone who commanded not just soldiers but the air itself, the rhythm of battle bending to his pace.
"Yes!" he roared, his voice carrying too clearly above the clash of steel. "Yes! Burn brighter, little sparks!" His grin stretched wider as he leveled his spear across his shoulders, arms draped like a man at leisure. "Let me see the fury that makes the crown send children to war!"
The torchlight danced across his polished armor, gilded and unscathed, untouched by the fight raging around him. He looked less like a general and more like a performer striding onto his stage. Every turn of his head, every sweep of his arms, was timed for the watching eyes of both his soldiers and theirs.
A manic grin stretched across his face, so exaggerated and unrestrained it looked as though the skin itself might tear under the strai