The strategy tent was crowded.
Not with numbers, but with weight.
Each person present carried authority that could bend entire regions. Maps covered the central table, their edges held down by weapons that had ended wars. Lantern light reflected off steel, holy symbols, and enchanted gear.
Zeke stood at the head of the table, arms crossed.
To his right stood Danitha.
Rank Seven. The Blade of Justice. Champion of the Church.
She wore no excessive ornamentation, no gilded armor or ceremonial robes. Her plate was practical, reinforced at vital points and etched with faint holy script that glowed softly when she moved. Her sword rested point down against the floor, both hands lightly resting on the pommel.
She had not been chosen by bloodline.
She had not inherited her title.
The Church itself had acknowledged her.
Her blade had ended more heresies than most inquisitors witnessed in a lifetime.
Danitha's presence alone imposed silence.
On Zeke's left stood Marcus Smith. Rank Nine. The Steel Tyrant.
A man built like a fortress, broad shoulders stretching his armor to its limits. Thick plates layered over reinforced chainmail, every inch of it scarred and repaired countless times. His weapon leaned against the table, a massive greatshield fused with a crushing hammer, designed for prolonged sieges rather than duels.
Where Danitha embodied judgment, Marcus embodied inevitability.
He did not fall. He did not retreat. He advanced until nothing remained.
"They finally pushed through Heinz's outer territory," Marcus said, his voice low and steady. "Took them long enough."
Danitha's gaze remained fixed on the map.
"Necromancers do not defend land the way humans do," she said. "They bleed their enemies slowly. This breakthrough means Heinz either underestimated them or allowed it."
Zeke tapped the secured region marked in blue.
"We now have clean water," he said. "A stable supply route. Divine blessings are holding. Reinforcements can arrive without being swallowed by the forest."
"And the summoner?" Danitha asked.
"Still unconfirmed," Zeke replied. "But the pattern is clear. Undead coordination increased after our first real success. Someone is directing them."
Marcus snorted softly.
"Figures. No way a vampire noble moves like this without orders."
Danitha looked up.
"The Vampire King."
No one argued.
Zeke exhaled.
"They are protecting the summoner," he said. "Every response we face is layered. Demons, undead, terrain manipulation. This is not chaos. This is strategy."
One of the commanders spoke hesitantly.
"Do we need to breach their capital?"
Silence followed.
Marcus crossed his arms.
"If we do, we go all in," he said. "No half measures. Vampire capitals do not fall unless something dies permanently."
Danitha nodded once.
"At this point," Zeke said slowly, "I would not mind asking the others for help."
A bitter chuckle came from one of the veteran captains.
"Hahaha. At this point I would not mind just letting the bastard do his thing."
Danitha's eyes snapped to him.
"You know we cannot do that," she said coldly. "We have lost too much."
The captain stiffened.
Zeke raised a hand.
"Enough," he said. "This ends one way or another."
He looked between Danitha and Marcus.
"Adding Vampire Killer into my list of titles should do nicely, no?" Marcus grinned.
Danitha did not. "This is not about titles," she said. "It is about containment. A summoner left unchecked becomes a calamity. You know this."
Zeke met her gaze.
"I know. He knows… We all know!"
The tent flap shifted.
"Elven reinforcements from the west have arrived," a scout reported.
Danitha closed her eyes briefly. "So the forest itself has decided," she murmured.
Marcus rolled his shoulders.
"Good. I was getting tired of holding the line."
Zeke straightened.
"This hunt just escalated."
The meeting had not yet concluded when the air inside the camp changed.
It was subtle at first. Lantern flames flickered unnaturally. The divine pillars humming at the perimeter of the encampment resonated in quiet response, their inscriptions glowing brighter for a brief moment.
Danitha noticed first.
Her hand tightened slightly around the pommel of her sword.
"Something approaches," she said.
Marcus turned toward the tent entrance, already bracing himself. Zeke did not move, but his eyes narrowed as he felt it too. A pressure building from above, vast and deliberate.
Then the ground trembled.
Not from marching troops.
From weight.
The tent flaps were thrown aside as a rush of cold northern wind swept through the command area. Outside, soldiers shouted in alarm before quickly regaining discipline.
A shadow passed over the encampment.
Massive wings beat the air once.
Twice.
The sound rolled across the secured region like thunder.
Zeke stepped outside.
The sky above the camp was dominated by scales and motion. A dragon descended slowly, its wings folding with practiced control. Its body was massive, powerful, and scarred, each mark a testament to battles survived rather than avoided. Emerald green scales shimmered faintly beneath the overcast sky, reflecting divine light and ambient mana alike.
The dragon landed just beyond the outer barricades, talons digging into the frozen earth with minimal disturbance. It lowered its head, steam escaping its nostrils as it settled.
Atop its back sat a man clad in reinforced armor layered with dragon scale plating.
He dismounted with a casual ease that belied the danger of the beast behind him.
Landon. Rank Three Hero of the Kingdom. The Dragon Tamer.
"Well," Landon said with a grin as he approached, removing his helm. "Looks like I didn't miss the fun after all."
Soldiers instinctively straightened as he passed.
Some stared openly. Others bowed. A few whispered prayers. Dragons were not symbols. They were statements.
Zeke allowed himself a small exhale.
"You took your time," he said.
Landon shrugged.
"Dragon migration routes this season are a mess. Nearly lost half a week negotiating with a particularly territorial elder." He glanced past the camp, toward the north. "Judging by the air, I assume we are chasing something worth the trouble."
"We are," Zeke replied.
Before Landon could respond, the divine pillars at the perimeter flared.
Not violently.
Reverently.
Golden light spread outward, the blessing responding to something far more refined than brute presence.
Danitha turned slowly.
"So," she said quietly. "The Church has moved."
The air shimmered near the center of the camp.
Light gathered, coalescing into a familiar figure. No explosion. No grand display. Just quiet authority.
Soren stepped forward as the glow faded, his white and gold robes untouched by the mud or cold. His expression was calm, eyes sharp and unwavering. He carried no visible weapon, yet the pressure around him was unmistakable.
Rank Two Hero. The Hero of Light.
Soren inclined his head toward Danitha first.
"Champion," he said.
Danitha returned the gesture.
"Chosen," she replied.
Soren then turned to Zeke.
"The Church has authorized full cooperation," he said. "If a summoner exists under the protection of necromancers and vampires, this is no longer a regional matter."
Zeke nodded.
"You came sooner than expected."
"Faith does not delay when calamity is involved," Soren answered.
Marcus let out a low whistle.
"Well," he said, cracking his neck. "Looks like we are done with half measures."
Landon laughed.
"Five of the top ten in one place," he said. "And elves on the way. Whoever this summoner is, they must be something special."
Danitha did not smile. "Or something catastrophic."
The five of them stood together now.
Zeke.
Danitha.
Marcus.
Landon.
Soren.
Five pillars of the Kingdom's strength.
Outside the camp, soldiers moved with renewed urgency. Messengers were dispatched. Defensive formations were expanded. The hunt had gained a new gravity, one that could no longer be ignored by any power in the north.
Zeke looked toward the forest once more.
Somewhere beyond the fog and undead territory, a summoner continued to grow stronger.
"They are protecting you," he murmured under his breath.
Soren heard him.
"So are we," the Hero of Light replied.
The board had shifted.
Four months since the hunt began, the efforts had doubled and the forces headed north were increasing.