The delegation departed at dawn. This departure time shouldn't become a habit, he thought . Forty mounted soldiers, five mages including Aldric, Leon at the head with the Sword Saint riding beside him. The gates opened and they rode out into the cool morning air, heading east toward the rising sun.
The first week of travel was uneventful. Good roads, regular villages, the comfortable rhythm of civilization that extended from the capital in gradually weakening rings. Leon's horsemanship had improved enough that he could manage a full day's ride without humiliation, though he'd never match the Sword Saint's effortless grace.
The third week brought them to rougher territory. Villages became scarcer, roads poorly maintained, the signs of royal influence fading. This was the kingdom's edge - places that paid taxes and followed laws mostly out of tradition rather than enforcement.
The soldiers grew more alert. The mages checked their preparations twice daily. Everyone knew they were approaching the region where danger might appear.
But the quiet was worse than danger.
No attacks came. No creatures emerged from forests. Just empty roads and increasingly sparse settlements as they traveled toward the eastern reaches.
"It's too quiet," Aldric said one evening as they made camp. "This close to the swamplands, there should be more wildlife. More activity."
Leon had noticed it too. The silence wasn't peaceful - it was oppressive. Like the land itself was holding its breath.
On the twenty second day, they reached the edges of the Blackwater Swamp. Dense forests surrounded them on all sides. Mudtown was on the edge of the forest, bordering the edge of the swamplands. It was now visible through the trees.
They rode over to it.
The settlement was abandoned. Not destroyed - just empty. Buildings intact, possessions left behind, signs that people had left in an organized evacuation rather than panic.
"They really did leave," one of the soldiers said quietly.
Leon dismounted and walked through the ghost town. It felt surreal - like everyone had simply decided to stop existing here.
"High Archmage." The Sword Saint's voice carried from the far edge of the settlement. "You need to see this."
Leon followed her voice to where she stood looking east. The other soldiers and mages were gathering, all staring in the same direction.
Leon reached them and looked.
His breath caught.
The swamplands stretched before them - flat, waterlogged terrain extending toward distant mountains that marked the kingdom's border. And somewhere in between them, cutting across the entire visible horizon...
Spanning, not meters, or tens of meters. Miles.
Was the tear in reality extending across the horizon like a jagged wound in the sky, with no end in sight. It wasn't like his first gate - a discrete portal, a manageable threat. This was a crack in the world itself, stretching from north to south until it disappeared into haze and distance.
"Blessed gods," Aldric whispered.
Leon couldn't speak. His mind was trying to calculate - if that gate was miles wide, how many creatures could pour through? How many soldiers would be needed? How many formations?
The numbers didn't work. They couldn't work. There weren't enough people, let alone soldiers in the kingdom to man a defensive line that long.
"Send riders north and south," the Sword Saint said, her voice cutting through the shocked silence. "I need to know where this ends."
Two groups of soldiers departed immediately, riding hard along the gate's length. The rest of the delegation stood in silence, staring at the impossible thing before them.
The riders returned four hours later, exhausted, horses lathered.
"It keeps going," the northern rider reported. "We rode until the edges of the wild mountains. The gate just... keeps going. We couldn't see an end."
"South is the same," the southern rider confirmed. "Miles and miles. No end in sight."
Leon forced himself to think like an engineer instead of a human being confronting impossibility. "The gate is still growing?"
"Yes," Aldric confirmed, his voice shaking slightly.
How long did they have? How long before the horizon itself would tear open and pour out whatever lay beyond. It stayed blank, misted all over, no indication to what lay beyond yet. That meant they still had time, tests could be done for confirmation. For preparations to be made. For proper defense structure. Was this defendable?
The delegation made camp that night in silence. No one spoke. No one had words for what they'd seen.
Leon stood watch, staring at the distant tear in reality, trying to comprehend the scale. Trying to figure out how to tell the king that the kingdom - that maybe the world - was facing something beyond any previous threat.
The Sword Saint stood nearby, also watching. For once, her perfect posture seemed strained. Even she had no answer for this.
"We need help," Leon said finally, breaking hours of silence. "Every kingdom. Every nation. Everyone who can fight."
"It may not be enough," the Sword Saint replied quietly.
"I know," Leon said. "But it's all we have."
They stood together in the darkness, watching the impossible gate continue its slow, inexorable growth.