At noon, Mavren intended to kill everyone who could prove I was innocent.
I stood inside Rimegate, more than two hundred miles from the royal capital, with barely more than an hour to stop him.
Elira’s purge list covered an entire wall display inside the restored communication tower.
Academy instructors.
Palace servants.
Knights who had questioned my trial.
Frontier families.
Temple officials who refused to recognize Mavren’s emergency regency.
The names continued until my system counted one hundred and sixty-four intended targets.
Forty-three had already been arrested in towns, estates, garrisons, and temple houses scattered across Thalverin. I could not reach every hidden prison before noon.
The remaining one hundred and twenty-one had been gathered inside the capital.
Forty-one were held beneath the royal palace.
Fifty-two belonged to the Royal Academy group.
Twenty-eight were imprisoned inside the temple’s judicial annex.
Mavren was not merely executing political opponents. He was erasing the people who remembered what happened before, during, and after my trial.
“How long until noon?” I asked.
Talden checked the synchronized tower clock.
“Sixty-four minutes.”
“Direct distance to the capital?”
“Two hundred and thirty-eight miles.”
No armored column could cross that distance in time.
Attack helicopters would arrive too late even if I ignored fuel limits, enemy air defenses, and the need for a secured landing zone.
Our fighters could reach the capital quickly. They could destroy a tower, intercept a weapon, or disrupt a ritual from outside the city, but they could not enter palace cells and carry one hundred and twenty-one prisoners home.
I needed people already inside the capital to act while my military broke whatever system Mavren intended to use against them.
Sir Othric joined the council from Rimegate’s infirmary. His wounded arm remained immobilized, and Doctor Mercer had threatened to sedate him if he attempted to leave the bed again.
He read Elira’s list in silence.
“The academy instructors will resist if they learn someone else is moving at the same time,” he said. “Several of them trained the palace guard before Mavren replaced its senior officers.”
“How do we contact them?”
“The academy maintains an emergency mirror connected to Rimegate’s tower. It was installed for Rift Calamity warnings.”
“Can Mavren block it?”
“He can interfere with normal military channels. The emergency mirror is tied to the temple network.”
Lysette’s voice entered from a separate secure screen.
“He cannot close the entire temple network without interrupting the Royal Censure Array.”
She sat inside a shielded chamber at Founding Base One. A suppression collar remained around her neck. Her staff stood inside an isolation frame several yards away, surrounded by counter-magic emitters and remote restraints.
Nahlia rested in a medical chair near the far wall. Pale light still moved beneath her skin from the damage caused by the Crown Colossus.
Doctor Mercer stood behind them.
I looked at Lysette.
“What is the Royal Censure Array?”
Her fingers tightened against her knees.
“The temple uses it against priests, nobles, and summoned heroes declared corrupted by the Crown. It was designed to execute many condemned targets without moving them to one location.”
“You knew the doctrine.”
“Yes.”
“Explain the mechanism.”
“The prisoners are marked with sacred condemnation brands. The capital contains four judicial pylons built into the northern, southern, eastern, and western military towers.”
Lysette used the isolation frame to project a diagram.
“The pylons form two interlocking circuits. The northern and southern pylons carry the binding current that keeps every brand synchronized. The eastern and western pylons carry the execution current.”
“Destroying one pylon from each circuit breaks the pattern,” I said.
“It should. The brands may still discharge when the circuit collapses, but they will no longer receive one complete killing command.”
“Which two towers are safest to strike?”
“The northern and western pylons. They belong to different circuits, and both towers stand beside military training grounds and defense roads rather than dense residential quarters.”
I examined the capital map.
The northern pylon stood on an outer-wall tower beside a cavalry field.
The western pylon overlooked military warehouses and a broad parade road.
Destroying the exposed sacred cores would not require collapsing the towers beneath them.
“Can the brands be removed before noon?” I asked.
“Not from one hundred and twenty-one people.”
“Can the remaining discharge be contained after the pylons break?”
Lysette hesitated.
Nahlia leaned forward despite Mercer’s hand settling on her shoulder.
“I can stabilize the brands through Lysette’s connection.”
Mercer answered immediately.
“You are recovering from damage to your heart, liver, kidneys, and mana channels.”
“I do not need to heal everyone completely. I need to keep the brands from stopping their hearts while the execution circuit collapses.”
“How long would you remain connected?”
“Seconds.”
“Seconds were enough to damage three organs during the Colossus shutdown.”
Nahlia looked toward me.
“If the circuit activates without support, some of them may die even after the pylons break.”
Mercer did not disagree.
I turned back to the map.
“Can fighters strike the exposed pylon cores accurately from outside the capital?”
Talden studied the dimensions Lysette had provided.
“We have precision penetrators capable of reaching both towers from beyond the city’s inner defensive range. The pilots need verified mana signatures and confirmation that the upper tower sections contain only military personnel.”
Lysette placed one hand against the isolation frame surrounding her staff.
“My Sacred Oracle authority can identify the pylons through the temple network.”
Reddan joined from Rimegate’s security level.
“She remains in custody.”
“I know,” Lysette said.
“The staff stays inside its frame. The suppression collar remains active. Every pulse passes through a cutoff controlled by Security.”
“I understand.”
Reddan looked toward me.
“She could provide false signatures.”
“Talden verifies them against the capital wall plan, Elira’s information, and the known temple circuit.”
Lysette’s expression tightened.
“You believe I would help Mavren kill them after discovering he intended to murder us too?”
“I believe fear has controlled your decisions before.”
She had no answer for that.
Keene entered the tower carrying the latest air-launched precision inventory.
“We possess suitable weapons,” she said. “We also possess fewer of them than I would prefer after the Dragon Host.”
“How many does the operation require?”
“Four primary penetrators, two reserve weapons, and eight harassment rockets to divide the capital’s defenses.”
“Aircraft?”
“Six serviceable fighters can be turned around with fresh reserve pilots. Those crews did not fly during the dragon battle. Ground teams need eleven minutes.”
Sabine appeared on Air Combat’s hardened command screen. Her wounded shoulder remained wrapped beneath a clean uniform.
“I command the mission from the ground.”
Mercer looked toward her.
“That was not a question.”
“I know.”
Sabine expanded the proposed flight paths.
“Flight Meridian approaches from north of the city. Flight Bastion approaches from the southwest. The pilots remain low during the concealed approach, climb only after Lysette confirms the pylon signatures, verify the military towers, and launch from standoff range.”
“How much time do they need after reaching their final approach sectors?”
“Approximately ten minutes for the last concealed leg, climb, signature verification, weapon alignment, and launch. The flight itself is not the difficult part.”
“The capital’s remaining aerial defense?”
“Unknown. The main Dragon Host is gone, but Mavren may retain smaller mounts, interceptor mages, and temple defenses.”
“No pilot crosses above a civilian district.”
“Agreed.”
“Elira must confirm the northern and western tower tops are cleared of civilians before release.”
Sabine nodded.
The private palace connection had not returned since Elira warned us.
Signal specialists continued transmitting a narrow request through the same servant relay she had used.
No answer came.
The tower clock showed fifty-six minutes.
I turned toward Othric.
“Contact the academy.”
He gave the signal team an old training code used before my exile.
Rimegate’s tower transmitted it through the Calamity mirror network.
Nothing returned at first.
Then the display changed.
The Royal Academy’s main drill court appeared.
Fifty-one prisoners knelt in ordered lines beneath armed temple guards. Several wore instructor uniforms. Others were servants, relatives, clerks, healers, or academy workers arrested because of what they had witnessed during my years there.
Nearly four hundred students watched from the surrounding balconies.
A hand covered the mirror lens from inside a locked office overlooking the court.
The person entered Othric’s response code.
The hand moved away.
An instructor I recognized stood inside the dark room. Blood marked his mouth, and a cut rope hung from one wrist.
“One of the senior students loosened my restraints during the transfer,” he whispered. “She hid me inside the emergency mirror office before the guards counted us again.”
That explained the missing fifty-second prisoner.
“How many instructors among the fifty-two can fight?” I asked.
“Seventeen, including me. The others are academy workers, servants, and relatives. The guards confiscated every weapon.”
“Students?”
“Most are unawakened or first-year trainees.”
“They stay out of the fighting.”
The instructor glanced toward the balconies.
“That may be difficult if the guards begin shooting prisoners.”
“Is the armory accessible?”
“Locked beneath the north hall. The head instructor carries the command seal.”
“Where is he?”
“Kneeling in the first row.”
Othric leaned toward the screen.
“Can he reach the emergency release beneath the reviewing platform?”
The instructor stared at him.
“You remember that mechanism?”
“I installed it.”
The release opened an equipment passage connecting the drill court to the old emergency armory. It had been built to distribute weapons if a Rift attack collapsed the main halls.
Mavren’s temple guards might not know it existed.
The mirror office contained a narrow signal lamp aimed toward the reviewing platform. The hidden instructor could use it to transmit an old academy combat rhythm without speaking aloud.
“Send the head instructor the signal,” I said. “Do not move until the purge network begins activating. Your mission is to protect the prisoners and students, not capture the entire academy.”
He nodded.
The mirror went dark.
The palace link activated moments later.
Elira appeared for less than three seconds.
Her hair had been cut unevenly, soot covered one side of her face, and she crouched inside a narrow service passage lit by a servant’s lamp.
“The palace prisoners are beneath the western kitchens,” she whispered. “Forty-one alive. The king is two levels below them.”
“Can you reach the prisoners?”
“I have six servants, two stable workers, and three guards willing to help. The purge captain carries the cell keys.”
“What about the pylon towers?”
“The northern and western upper levels were cleared for ritual security. Only military crews and temple mages remain inside them.”
Talden recorded the confirmation.
“Can you reach King Edran?” I asked.
“There is a service shaft behind his cell. He is drugged, collared, and guarded. I may be able to open an observation mirror, but I cannot carry him.”
“Free the purge prisoners first. Do not lose forty-one people trying to extract one.”
Elira hesitated.
“The king knows what Mavren did.”
“He also knew what Mavren did to me.”
Her expression changed.
“I know.”
The connection flickered.
“The purge captain is moving early. I have to go.”
“Wait. Is there a local brand controller inside the palace?”
“The temple delivered a red-and-gold crystal to the execution chamber.”
“Destroy it only after Lysette begins disrupting the network. If you move too soon, Mavren may realize we understand the array and change the ritual.”
Elira nodded.
The link vanished.
Forty-eight minutes remained.
The temple annex was the final location.
Lysette used the emergency authority stored inside her staff.
Golden light moved within the isolation frame. The suppression systems measured every pulse and limited the spell to the temple communication circuit.
A judicial mirror opened inside Rimegate’s tower.
Twenty-eight prisoners sat or knelt inside a stone courtyard beneath the capital’s temple spire. Priests surrounded them with staffs lowered.
Some looked eager to obey the purge order.
Others appeared sickened by it.
Lysette spoke through the mirror.
“This is Sacred Oracle Lysette Carren.”
Several priests reacted immediately.
A few knelt.
The senior executioner stepped toward the mirror.
“You were captured by the false prince.”
“Yes.”
“Then your words are corrupted.”
“Mavren gave me a sealed return order. It was not a return spell. It was a martyrdom rite designed to kill every Hero Candidate if our mission failed.”
The executioner’s expression changed.
Lysette continued before he could close the channel.
“I invaded Konan’s territory under false claims. His soldiers captured me alive, treated my injuries, and showed me the order carrying Mavren’s authorization.”
“You betrayed the Crown.”
“I betrayed the truth before I betrayed Mavren.”
The words cost her. I heard it in her voice.
The senior executioner raised his staff toward the mirror.
A younger priest moved between them.
Two more joined him.
The temple courtyard divided without anyone casting a spell.
“Keep the prisoners alive until the national emergency channel opens,” Lysette said. “The Censure Array will execute them through their brands.”
“They were lawfully judged,” the senior executioner replied.
“By a regent who imprisoned the king.”
Someone struck the mirror from the far side.
The image disappeared.
I had reached all three execution sites.
I still had no soldiers inside the capital.
Everything now depended on instructors, servants, guards, students, and priests choosing to disobey before Mavren’s ritual killed them.
The six fighters launched forty-three minutes before noon.
Fresh reserve pilots flew aircraft returned to service after the Dragon Host battle. Ground crews loaded four precision penetrators, two reserve weapons, and eight harassment rockets.
Sabine commanded through the hardened Air Combat network.
“Flight Meridian, remain below the northern sensor line until the final climb. Flight Bastion approaches from the southwest. No weapons release without verified signatures and civilian-clearance confirmation.”
Both flights acknowledged.
The aircraft accelerated east.
Keene watched the precision inventory fall on her display before anyone fired.
“The Supreme Commander is spending four advanced weapons to interrupt a temple execution before lunch.”
“The title already makes me sound like a dictator with too many missiles.”
“This will not improve that impression.”
“It may improve the number of people alive at noon.”
“That is why I approved the expenditure.”
Thirty-one minutes remained on the original clock.
Mavren began the purge fourteen minutes early.
The capital’s public mirrors activated across Thalverin.
His image appeared inside Rimegate’s communication tower.
He wore the royal regent’s crimson mantle and King Edran’s ceremonial chain. Armed guards stood behind him inside the palace throne hall.
“My father remains incapacitated,” he announced. “Demon influence has corrupted the western provinces, the summoned heroes, and every traitor assisting the false prince.”
He raised one hand.
“Judgment begins now.”
Talden checked the temple circuit.
“He advanced activation by fourteen minutes.”
The operational clock changed.
Seventeen minutes remained.
Mavren’s command had begun a seventeen-minute synchronization cycle. The condemnation brands were charging across all three execution sites, but the lethal discharge would not occur until the new countdown reached zero.
“Fighter positions?” I asked.
“Flight Meridian is sixty miles north of the capital,” Sabine said. “Flight Bastion is seventy-two miles southwest. Both need approximately ten minutes to complete the concealed approach, climb, confirm the pylons, and reach launch geometry.”
They could still make it.
Barely.
Sacred light began forming around the prisoners at all three execution sites.
Red-and-gold brands appeared through clothing and armor.
People screamed inside the academy drill court.
The palace feed returned through Elira’s servant relay. Guards were dragging prisoners toward the execution room while servants fought them in the corridor.
The temple priests were still arguing around the twenty-eight condemned people.
“Nahlia?” I asked.
She pushed herself out of the medical chair.
Mercer caught her arm.
“You remain connected for no more than fifteen seconds.”
“I need twenty.”
“You receive fifteen. If your heart rhythm fails, the connection ends regardless of what you want.”
Nahlia nodded.
Lysette placed both hands against the isolation frame around her staff.
Reddan’s security team armed the emergency cutoff.
“If she sends magic anywhere outside the temple circuit, shut the frame down,” he ordered.
Rimegate’s signal teams opened every western relay still under our control.
“Begin the broadcast.”
Lysette’s image appeared across temple mirrors, military crystals, merchant relays, and public receivers throughout western Thalverin.
She did not wear ceremonial robes.
She sat in a medical uniform with the suppression collar clearly visible around her neck.
“My name is Lysette Carren,” she began. “I am the Sacred Oracle summoned by Thalverin.”
Mavren’s image disappeared from several temple-linked mirrors as her class authority overrode the normal broadcast.
“I testified in support of Konan Marcellan’s conviction. I possessed no direct evidence that he committed treason. I was afraid that questioning the Crown would cost me the protection I had gained after my class awakened.”
The admission carried more force than any accusation I could have made.
“I helped condemn an innocent person because standing beside power felt safer than challenging it.”
The temple network resisted her authority.
Cracks spread across the isolation frame.
Counter-magic systems absorbed the backlash without cutting the signal.
Lysette continued.
“Crown Prince Mavren ordered the Hero Candidates to capture Konan or kill him if capture threatened the mission. He gave me a sealed spell that I believed would return us to the capital. It was designed to kill us and everyone nearby if we failed.”
The martyrdom order appeared beside her image.
Talden transmitted the original seal, temple cipher, and independent analysis proving its purpose.
Mavren attempted to force his image back onto the network.
Lysette held the channel.
“King Edran is alive and imprisoned. Mavren’s emergency regency is unlawful. The people marked for death today received no valid trials.”
The condemnation brands across the capital burned brighter.
“Pylon signatures confirmed,” Talden reported.
The fighters had reached their final approach sectors.
Flight Meridian climbed north of the city.
Flight Bastion turned toward the western wall.
Capital anti-air wards activated.
Ballistae rotated on the military towers. Court mages raised barriers around the exposed pylon cores.
Sabine released the eight harassment rockets.
They approached from multiple angles, each carrying a small warhead capable of damaging exposed military defenses.
The capital mages could not ignore them.
Barriers shifted.
Ballistae fired.
Three rockets broke apart before reaching the walls.
Two struck defensive platforms.
The remaining weapons forced the northern and western towers to divide their protection.
“Primary weapons clear,” Sabine said.
Four precision penetrators launched from outside the capital.
Two targeted the northern pylon.
Two targeted the western.
The defenders recognized the real threat.
Sacred barriers hardened around both cores.
A royal interceptor spell destroyed the first northern penetrator.
The second climbed during its final approach and struck the pylon core from above.
The crystal exploded inside its armored housing.
Golden light raced across the northern wall and vanished.
The first western penetrator struck the tower barrier and broke it.
The second entered through the opening less than a second later.
The western core shattered.
One pylon from each interlocking circuit had been destroyed.
The Censure Array lost its complete execution path.
Every condemnation brand in the capital discharged at once.
Nahlia touched Lysette’s temple connection.
Golden light erupted around her body.
I watched her knees buckle as she forced healing energy through the staff and into the collapsing network.
Inside the academy drill court, prisoners fell instead of burning.
At the temple annex, blood ran from noses and mouths, but hearts continued beating.
The palace feed became white with sacred energy.
Mercer counted over the medical channel.
“Five seconds.”
Nahlia screamed.
The brands tried to complete their execution through the two surviving pylons.
“Ten seconds.”
Her heart monitor entered an irregular rhythm.
Lysette’s staff began cracking inside the isolation frame.
Nahlia remained connected.
“Fifteen seconds. Disconnect.”
“No.”
Mercer activated the medical cutoff herself.
The connection broke at seventeen seconds.
Nahlia collapsed into the waiting medical team.
The brands across the capital went dark.
The broken circuit had prevented mass execution, but the discharge still struck people with weak hearts, damaged mana channels, or previous injuries.
Mavren’s guards and executioners remained armed.
His image forced itself onto the palace network.
“Kill them manually!”
The academy drill court erupted.
The hidden instructor flashed Othric’s signal through the mirror-office lamp.
The head instructor reached beneath the reviewing platform and activated the emergency release.
Stone opened beside the first line of prisoners.
Weapons passed through from the concealed armory.
The instructors broke their restraints and attacked the temple guards.
Most students remained on the balconies until two royal archers aimed toward the prisoners below.
Several senior students ignored orders and tackled the archers from behind.
I watched the academy through the emergency mirror.
The fight lasted less than four minutes.
Three instructors died while protecting the armory passage.
The hidden instructor opened the mirror office and joined the survivors as they withdrew.
Forty-nine of the original fifty-two academy prisoners reached the north-hall corridor alive.
The academy guards who surrendered were locked inside a training hall.
“Academy group secure,” Othric said from his infirmary display.
His voice shook slightly.
He knew the three instructors who had died.
He continued watching the feed.
At the temple annex, the younger priests turned against the senior executioner.
Sacred barriers collided across the courtyard. Staffs shattered against stone and armor.
The senior executioner killed one condemned prisoner before a junior priest drove a spear of light through his chest.
Twenty-seven prisoners reached the temple infirmary alive.
The resisting priests sealed the doors and transmitted a formal refusal to recognize Mavren’s regency.
The palace became the hardest location.
Elira’s servant mirror returned through a moving feed.
The image shook as she ran.
Servants had opened a pantry wall leading into the execution corridor. Two stable workers carried unconscious prisoners. Three sympathetic palace guards fought former comrades near the kitchen stairs.
The purge captain reached the red-and-gold controller.
Elira threw a metal cooking hook across the room.
It caught the crystal frame and pulled the device from the execution table.
The controller struck the floor.
One servant smashed it with a butcher’s hammer.
The purge captain killed him immediately.
Elira drove the broken hook into the captain’s leg.
A palace guard ended the fight.
Five prisoners had already died from the brand discharge and the loyalist attack.
Thirty-six remained alive.
The service passage could not move all of them before reinforcements arrived.
“Elira, open the palace emergency channel.”
“I need to reach the king.”
“Can you do that without abandoning the prisoners?”
“The service shaft begins behind this wall. The loyalists know the kitchen route now, but the six servants, two stable workers, and three sympathetic guards can continue moving the prisoners.”
“Do not trap yourself inside his cell.”
“I have spent six years hiding food inside your rooms. I know how to leave places I am not supposed to enter.”
She handed the mirror to another servant and disappeared through the wall.
The palace prisoners moved through storerooms, laundry tunnels, and old food lifts while loyalist guards searched the main corridors.
I could not send tanks through palace kitchens or rifle teams through a mirror.
I kept the national network open so Mavren could not hide what happened next.
Lysette’s confession remained visible.
Dorr’s execution orders followed it.
The Mavren–Raukhar command crystal appeared after that.
Every western settlement receiving Rimegate’s signal watched the purge unfold beside authenticated evidence of Mavren’s alliance with a Demon King.
The throne-hall broadcast returned.
Mavren’s face had lost its calm.
“Lysette Carren has been corrupted. Nahlia Fenn serves demon sorcery. Konan’s manufactured soldiers are attacking the holy capital.”
Talden detected Elira’s servant-mirror signal from beneath the palace. He caught it before the palace censors could sever the connection and routed it through Lysette’s still-open emergency temple channel.
A private image replaced Mavren across the network for seven seconds.
Elira stood inside a dark cell.
King Edran sat behind her against a stone wall.
His hair hung loose around his face. His skin had become gray from drugs or mana suppression. A restraint collar surrounded his neck.
Elira held the servant mirror close enough to capture him.
“Your Majesty,” she whispered. “Tell them.”
The king struggled to focus.
“Mavren…” His voice barely carried. “Mavren imprisoned me.”
The temple network froze around the image.
“I did not grant him the regency.”
Elira moved the mirror closer.
King Edran looked directly into it.
“Stop the purge.”
The connection died.
Seven seconds were enough.
Garrisons, temples, towns, and noble houses across the network had seen their king alive.
They had heard him deny Mavren’s authority.
The regency proclamation had become an open seizure of the throne.
Alarm bells rang through the palace.
Elira’s next message arrived as text.
They are moving the king. I escaped through the ash shaft.
The capital feeds became chaotic.
Some palace guards continued following Mavren.
Others lowered their weapons after seeing King Edran alive.
A company stationed near the western kitchens turned against the purge teams and secured the servant passages.
The thirty-six surviving palace prisoners reached an old granary beneath the outer courtyard.
The guards protecting them transmitted a request for negotiation and external protection.
By twelve minutes after noon, organized executions had stopped at all three primary sites.
The final count arrived gradually.
Of the one hundred and twenty-one prisoners gathered for immediate execution, one hundred and twelve remained alive.
Nine had died.
Five beneath the palace.
Three at the academy.
One inside the temple annex.
The forty-three people arrested elsewhere in Thalverin remained in danger. Intelligence began tracing their locations through western garrisons, temple records, and civilian reports.
No First Expeditionary Army soldier had entered the capital or died during the operation.
The confirmed death count under my command remained one hundred and fourteen.
We had fired four precision penetrators and eight harassment rockets. The two reserve penetrators returned unused.
One fighter suffered minor skin, sensor, and control-surface damage from the edge of an interceptor spell, but all six aircraft returned safely.
Keene studied the expenditure report.
“Four advanced weapons to destroy two sacred pylons.”
“Was there a cheaper method that saved one hundred and twelve people before noon?”
“No.”
“Then record the cost.”
“I recorded it before the missiles reached the capital.”
Lysette remained conscious after the broadcast, though the temple backlash had burned both hands and worsened the damage inside her class channels.
Nahlia did not wake immediately.
Mercer’s teams stabilized her heart and placed her inside a mana-isolation unit. The seventeen-second connection had aggravated her previous injuries without destroying her class core.
I visited them through a secure medical feed rather than leaving Rimegate.
Lysette sat beneath guard outside Nahlia’s sealed room.
“You kept the network open,” I said.
“I helped create the danger.”
“You also helped stop it.”
“That does not erase what I did.”
“No.”
She looked at the bandages covering her hands.
“I do not know what I am now.”
“A prisoner who made one correct choice.”
The answer hurt her.
It also gave her something honest to build upon.
Across western Thalverin, the political effect spread faster than any armored column.
Two garrisons announced that they would obey no regency order until King Edran appeared before the Crown Council.
Three temple branches rejected the purge.
The river garrison that had contacted Rimegate released its imprisoned officers and requested a defensive agreement.
Four of the six settlements already negotiating with me asked for military observers and protected communication equipment.
Mavren had attempted to erase witnesses. Instead, the purge placed their faces, injuries, and testimony onto mirrors throughout the kingdom.
Sabine joined me inside Rimegate’s western tower after the fighters returned.
Her shoulder remained wrapped, but she carried herself with less pain than after the Dragon Host battle.
“You stopped an execution two hundred miles away,” she said.
“Lysette, Nahlia, Elira, the instructors, the servants, the priests, the guards, and the pilots stopped it.”
“You gave the order.”
“I was also the only person in this tower being threatened by two women whenever I tried to leave the command room.”
“Selkara and I agree on certain matters.”
“That concerns me.”
“It should.”
Her fingers brushed mine beside the command table.
The contact lasted only a moment before Talden entered with the final palace transmission.
The message had passed through Elira’s servant relay after the executions stopped.
It contained three lines.
Mavren is taking the king beneath the original summoning hall.
The temple mages are reopening the dimensional altar.
Something is answering from the other side.
My system reacted before Talden finished reading.
LARGE-SCALE DIMENSIONAL DISTURBANCE DETECTED BENEATH THE ROYAL CAPITAL
SIGNATURE MATCH: ORIGINAL HERO-SUMMONING ARRAY
WARNING: EXTERNAL SOVEREIGN CONTACT ATTEMPT IN PROGRESS
The ritual beneath the capital used the same kind of magic that had stolen me from Earth six years earlier.
Mavren had lost the Hero Candidates, the Crown Colossus, the Royal Dragon Host, Rimegate, and the legal claim to his regency.
Now he was reopening the gate that brought us into this world.
I stared at the growing dimensional signature beneath the palace.
This time, he was not summoning heroes.
Something on the other side was summoning itself.