After his success at Prison Camp #82, Zeke struck twice more using the same tactics. Not even two full days had passed by the time he raided the third prison, leaving the Legion's high command no time to devise countermeasures.

  The relentless pace put a tremendous strain on Irisen, who could barely recover her strength between assaults. Even so, she did not complain and seemed to grow more eager with each victory.

  It was no wonder.

  Not only was she freeing her imprisoned people and playing the role of a benevolent savior, but she was also venting her fury on the Ehrenlegion.

  Though Irisen appeared composed most of the time, it was during these moments that Zeke realized how much animosity she had bottled up. The years spent trapped in darkness had clearly left deep marks on her psyche.

  It was hard to say how often she had sworn revenge during that time, but the occasional flashes of madness in her eyes were vivid proof of the torment she had endured.

  The attacks on these forts were the perfect outlet.

  Striking from the shadows and unleashing her full power at once was an ideal approach. It left no room for countermeasures and proved devastating against the Legion forces stationed at the prison forts.

  Still, Zeke wondered how Irisen would fare in a direct confrontation with a Legion Archmage. He suspected she would struggle, especially against members of the Feuerkranz family.

  It was always difficult to gauge the outcome of battles between high-tier mages. They often specialized in narrow fields of magic that gave them an edge in certain situations, while leaving them vulnerable in others.

  Irisen was a good example of this.

  Her use of parasitic creatures, combined with her uniquely attuned Nature Magic, allowed her to eliminate large numbers of lower-ranked enemies with a single strike. Yet, that did not mean she would be equally effective against an opponent of similar strength.

  For example, Zeke suspected that this method would have little to no effect on an Archmage. Reaching that level caused a change in the body itself, making mages far more resistant to poisons and parasitic organisms. Their bodies often took on traits of their attuned element.

  In short, not every mage who excelled at slaughtering large numbers of weaker enemies could achieve the same results against fewer but stronger foes.

  Mind Mages were the clearest example of this.

  There was almost no defense against a Mind Mage of higher rank. There was no place to hide, no barrier to shelter behind. Their magic was inevitable, leaving weaker opponents without any real countermeasures.

  Yet the opposite was also true. Among Mages of the same tier, Mind Mages were often the weakest in direct combat. Breaking through the mental defenses of an equally ranked opponent took far longer than casting spells of other affinities. Their physical bodies, likewise, were among the frailest of their tier.

  This contrast made it clear that magical affinities were not ranked from strong to weak. Instead, they formed a complex balance, where some excelled in duels while others dominated large-scale battles.

  Thoughts like these often occupied Zeke's mind these days, as he had ample time between assaults. Rather than spending it on personal growth, he found himself absorbed in matters of strategy.

  Though a distraction from his own training, it was a burden he had to bear as the commander of his own forces. Everyone relied on his judgment in such matters, including the three Archmages under his command.

  In his limited engagements so far, Zeke had been able to exploit the element of surprise, along with his still hidden ability to coordinate his forces through Akasha. That advantage had allowed him to defeat a superior Archmage in his first battle.

  Zeke understood, however, that this success had depended on many factors aligning in his favor.

  If Balduin Feuerkranz, whom he had slain in that encounter, had been given the time and freedom to cast his spells as Irisen had, the devastation he could have unleashed would have been incalculable.

  It was entirely possible that Zeke would have lost that battle had he faced all enemy forces at once. Only by eliminating the commander early and systematically dismantling the remaining threats one by one had he secured such a decisive victory.

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  He now recognized that a considerable amount of luck had been involved. The Ehrenlegion, emboldened by their string of victories, had clearly not taken the threat he posed seriously enough.

  Unfortunately, that was not an advantage he could rely on going forward.

  The rudimentary anti-invisibility measures he was encountering made it clear that they were aware of his presence and actively working to dismantle his advantages.

  If even these remote outposts possessed ways to counter the Alexandria's distortion field, then the truly fortified positions closer to the center of power would almost certainly have far more advanced methods to deal with him.

  Zeke could only sigh at that.

  By allowing the Alliance to deploy the Wraiths against the Empire on the western front, he had given them much-needed breathing room. However, it had also given the Empire time to develop countermeasures against this new technology. Zeke strongly suspected that he would soon see the results of those efforts here in Rukia.

  It was entirely possible that the advantage he held through the Alexandria's invisibility would not last until the end of the war.

  That thought did not dishearten Zeke. In fact, it fit neatly into his calculations. He had never intended to rely on invisibility as a permanent trump card. In his mind, it had always been a kind of grace period.

  This feature of the ship was meant to grant him an early advantage, at least until he found his footing in this unfamiliar role.

  But it also meant that once the Empire learned to counter it, he would have to face them head on, without the benefit of stealth.

  It was a daunting prospect, placing immense pressure on him. His forces, and his abilities as a commander, would need to improve rapidly. Otherwise, his fate would be sealed.

  Yet instead of feeling weighed down by the pressure, Zeke welcomed it. This was exactly the kind of strain needed for rapid growth.

  The saying that war was the mother of invention was rooted in this very pressure. Humanity possessed an extraordinary capacity for growth, adaptation, and will.

  Yet it was only in times of dire need, when one's life truly hung by a thread, that these qualities could be fully expressed. Like being thrown into deep water. Sink or swim.

  The difference was that Zeke had chosen to throw himself into that bottomless pond.

  Without a mentor to drive him forward, Zeke had no choice but to take on that role himself. Though he demanded much from those around him, he was even harsher with himself.

  It would have been far more comfortable to remain in his workshop, developing newer and better airships. That path might even have allowed him to contribute more to the war than he was doing now.

  Even so, Zeke sensed that it would have led him to eventually stagnate.

  Without the pressure of life and death, without the constant need to push past his limits, he would eventually have slipped into complacency. Just as the elves had. Once the foremost masters of magic, they had faded into little more than a footnote in its history.

  Sheltered by the blessing of the tree, there had been no force capable of threatening them. With their naturally high magical affinity and long lifespans, the elves had come to see the other races as beneath their concern.

  But what had happened when they finally encountered the human civilization after centuries had passed?

  A massacre.

  The Empire tore through their jeweled armies and silk-clad mounts with relentless savagery. Tempered by centuries of warfare, humanity had become a beast with sharpened claws, ready to devour anything in its path.

  For all the criticism Zeke held toward his former home, he understood the formidable strength of the Empire. The constant threat of war, combined with the fierce rivalry among the four dominant families, created an environment of unending growth. It bred a hunger for power that he had not seen in any other nation.

  Even the youngest apprentices at the Elementium, whose classrooms Zeke had once shared, possessed a drive for strength and advancement unlike anything he had encountered elsewhere.

  It was likely this very mindset that had propelled the Empire to its current heights. To a point where all other nations had been forced to combine their strength simply to contain its relentless expansion.

  Not to stop it, but merely to slow it.

  Zeke saw this clearly, even as many in positions of greater authority chose to look away. The Empire had reached a point where it could no longer be caged. Now, after years of preparation, it had extended its claws and struck beyond the Alliance's prison.

  Rukia had borne the full weight of that blow. An entire nation shattered in a single strike.

  Some claimed it was due to Rukia's relative weakness, or its false reliance on the elven Matriarchy. But Zeke did not accept those excuses.

  There was only one conclusion he could draw from the destruction of an entire nation.

  A storm was coming. A storm that would shatter established rules and norms, raze borders and armies, and reshape the land itself.

  It was that looming storm that had driven Zeke to throw himself into this bottomless pond, this warfront of despair.

  For when the storm finally arrived, he would need the strength to face it with his head held high. Only then could he protect those who mattered to him. Only then could he hold on to what he carried in his heart.

  Just as the Alexandria's invisibility granted him a grace period to find his footing, this conflict in Rukia was his chance to grow strong enough to endure what was to come.

  He would not waste it. The pressure, the danger, and the constant fight for survival were exactly the fuel he needed to reach that goal.

  He would make full use of it.

  With that resolve etched deep in his heart, Zeke greeted the dawn of a new morning. With the first rays of light, the signs of their destination also came into view.

  Trees as tall as hills, each older than most nations on the continent, dotted the landscape. As the vegetation grew denser, no light could penetrate the canopy anymore. It formed a land of shadow and mystery, and even Zeke could not tell what awaited them beyond its borders.

  They had arrived at the hidden sanctuary.