The lens changed how the world looked.
That was the first thing I noticed in the days that followed, not in workshops or noble halls, but in people. Merchants lingered longer over their goods. Guards squinted less and stared more. Eldren started carrying one in his pocket like a talisman, pulling it out whenever he wanted to feel superior to someone.
And the rumors changed with it.
The mirrors had made people curious.
The lenses made them uneasy.
Because curiosity was passive. Unease demanded action.
I was in the training yard when the summons came.
Steel rang against steel, the familiar rhythm grounding my thoughts. Roosevelt circled us like a hawk, arms crossed, eyes sharp. I was paired against Krystoff today. He'd grown tallerannoyingly soand faster. His stance was solid, disciplined, but he still relied too much on strength.
I slipped past his swing, tapped his ribs with the flat of my blade, and stepped back before he could recover.
"Again," Roosevelt said, voice calm but firm.
Krystoff grinned, eyes bright. "You're getting predictable."
"So are you," I replied.
We moved again.
This time he feinted low. I adjustedtoo fast. He noticed. Exploited it. Wood struck my shoulder hard enough to sting.
Roosevelt nodded. "Better."
Before either of us could reset, a shadow crossed the yard.
A messenger.
Not one of the casual runners. This one wore the Duke's colors openly.
Roosevelt raised a hand. "Break."
We obeyed instantly.
The man didn't waste time. "Richard of Ayer."
I stepped forward.
"Your presence is requested. Along with your… associates."
That last word was measured.
I didn't like that.
They gathered us in one of the lesser hallsnot the grand council chamber, but not a training room either. Neutral ground. Strategic.
Patrick stood at the center, hands clasped behind his back. He looked tired. Not the kind of tired sleep fixedbut the kind that accumulated.
Around him stood officers of the duchy. Captains. Scouts. Logistics men.
And a map.
I recognized it immediately.
Ayer. The whole duchy.
Red marks dotted the parchment like spreading stains.
"This is not a punishment," Patrick said once we were all present. "And it is not a test."
That alone made my stomach tighten.
"These are reports from the last two months," he continued, gesturing to the map. "Monster migration beyond normal patterns. Bandit groups acting with coordination instead of desperation. Villages requesting aid faster than we can respond."
He paused.
"And healers are overwhelmed."
My chest tightened further.
I exchanged glances with the others. Jucelis's expression had shiftedalready calculating. Nibbo frowned, eyes darting across the map, counting patterns I hadn't pointed out yet.
"This duchy has been stable since the last war," Patrick said. "Too stable."
Roosevelt stepped forward. "Sir, are you suggesting"
"I'm saying the stillness broke," Patrick replied. "And when it does, it never does so gently."
He turned to us then.
"You will be participating in an incursion."
Silence.
Supremo blinked. "An… incursion?"
"A coordinated sweep," Patrick clarified. "Multiple groups. Mixed forces. The goal is not conquestit is suppression. Identify threats. Reduce numbers. Gather information."
"And us?" Valkyrie asked sharply.
Patrick met her gaze without hesitation. "You are not front-line soldiers. You are not expected to fight beyond your capacity."
I didn't like the way he said expected.
"You will be assigned to controlled zones. Supervised. Protected."
Krystoff scoffed under his breath. "That's not an incursion. That's a patrol."
Patrick's eyes flicked to him. "It is when children are involved."
Roosevelt intervened smoothly. "Sir, with respectRichard and his group are more capable than most recruits twice their age."
"I know," Patrick replied. "That is why they are here."
He looked at me then.
Not as a Duke.
As a father.
"And that is why this decision was not easy."
I didn't respond.
Because part of me understood.
And part of me was already planning.
They gave us the details after.
Three zones. Forest edge. Trade road. Abandoned settlements.
Each group would be mixedmartial fighters, mages, scouts. We would be attached to a larger unit but given operational freedom within limits.
Limits that felt… flexible.
As we left the hall, the air felt heavier.
"This escalated fast," Supremo muttered.
"Not really," Nibbo replied. "We just noticed it late."
I nodded. "The rumors weren't just rumors."
Jucelis stopped walking. "You think this is connected."
"I think unrest doesn't happen in isolation," I said. "And monsters don't migrate without reason."
Valkyrie crossed her arms. "And bandits?"
"They follow opportunity," I replied. "Or leadership."
That earned me a look.
"Say that again," she said.
"Someoneor somethingis making the world less safe," I continued. "And when safety erodes, everything else follows."
Joen swallowed. "We're not… going to die, right?"
I forced a smile. "Not if we pay attention."
That night, I couldn't sleep.
Not because I was afraid.
But because my mind wouldn't stop moving.
An incursion meant visibility. Movement. Stress on systems already strained.
If something wanted chaos…
This was perfect cover.
I sat up, staring at the ceiling.
In my past life, crises always revealed cracks. In infrastructure. In leadership. In people.
This world wasn't different.
Just louder about it.
Preparation began immediately.
Equipment checks. Briefings. Route planning.
Eldren found me the next morning, grumbling as usual.
"So," he said, arms crossed. "You going to get yourself eaten?"
"Unlikely," I replied.
He snorted. "Confidence. Always confidence."
Then he hesitated.
"…If something happens," he added, quieter, "the workshop stays running. The contracts too."
I met his gaze. "You're worried."
"About my investment," he snapped.
I smiled.
The day before departure, Patrick summoned me alone.
No guards. No officials.
Just us.
"You didn't object," he said.
"I didn't," I agreed.
"That concerns me."
I tilted my head. "Would you prefer I panic?"
"I would prefer you act your age."
I looked at him then.
Really looked.
"You taught me not to," I said.
He exhaled slowly.
"…Be careful," he said at last. "Not as a Duke. As your father."
I nodded.
"I will," I replied.
I didn't promise safety.
Just awareness.
The incursion began at dawn.
Armor gleamed. Banners snapped in the wind. Orders carried across the camps.
I stood with my group, heart steady, senses sharp.
This wasn't a game.
This wasn't theory.
This was the world pushing back.
And for the first time since I arrived in it, I wasn't just watching it move.
I was stepping into it.
Whatever waited beyond the roads of Ayermonster, man, or something worse
I would see it clearly.
Because I had learned something important.
Stillness never meant peace.
It only meant the storm was deciding where to strike first.