Three months passed. Good months.
The party took quests twice a week — subjugations, escorts, the occasional gathering mission when Bella wanted alchemical ingredients. They fell into a rhythm that worked. Bella's spirit magic anchored the rear. Lira's rifle handled mid-range. Kana and Hana cut through anything that got close. Yuki dealt with whatever was left, which was becoming less and less as the others got stronger.
They visited the homestead twice a month. Each trip, they planted more. Bella and Lira had been scouting the forest together, under Yuki's added supervision — a development Yuki still found slightly surreal — and they'd identified several rare species worth transplanting. A tree whose sap accelerated mana recovery. A flowering bush whose petals could be processed into potent healing salves. A root vegetable that Bella said the royal alchemists would pay obscene prices for.
The homestead practically maintained itself at this point. The canals kept the water flowing. The soil had fully recovered. The groves produced more than they could harvest. Just weeding, picking, and the occasional cleaning run from Elena's unstoppable maid regiment.
Elena had also reminded Yuki of something he'd completely overlooked.
"The girls need schooling, Lord Yuki."
He'd stared at her. School. Education. The thing normal children did instead of fighting monsters and throwing daggers.
"Right. Yes. That's — important."
Four hours a day, Elena taught them. Reading, writing, arithmetic, history, geography. She was thorough and patient and didn't accept excuses about tired hands or bored ears. Kana complained for exactly one day before Elena's quiet authority shut it down. Hana took to it silently, the way she took to everything — absorbing information without comment, producing results that startled even Elena.
Miri sat beside them for every lesson, already literate, already numerate, helping the fox sisters with a gentle competence that mirrored her mother's.
Bella arranged a royal tutor from her family's estate to supplement Elena's teaching on most days. History of the Confederation. Political structures. Etiquette and protocol.
Elena had pulled Yuki aside about this. "Lord Yuki, Miri is a maid's daughter. A royal tutor is not appropriate for—"
"She's a member of this household. She gets the same education as everyone else."
Elena's mouth opened. Closed. She bowed, and that was the end of it. Yuki had also sat in on several lesson's to learn history, geography, and etiquette, which the girls enjoyed teasing him on.
Life was good. Stable. The kind of comfortable routine that made you forget a war was coming.
Then the war came.
The news arrived on a Tuesday.
A military courier at the guild, reading a proclamation to a packed common room. The Dominion had mobilised. Ten thousand troops marching overland from the northwest. Ten warships crossing the lake from the east — from the already conquered territories on the far shore.
The lake. The same massive body of water that Veldara sat on. The Dominion was coming across it. Straight at the capital.
The guild went quiet. Then it got loud. Adventurers shouting questions. Merchants running for the exits. The administrator behind the counter looking like she wanted to be anywhere else.
Yuki stood at the back of the room with his party and listened.
Ten thousand soldiers. Ten warships. A combined land-and-sea assault on a city whose military was already stretched thin from border defence.
He rolled his eyes.
"Let's go talk to the king."
The palace audience was shorter this time. The king looked older than he had three months ago. Tired. The war he'd been dreading had finally arrived at his doorstep.
"What do you need from me?" Yuki asked.
"Everything you're willing to give."
"I'd like to talk to them first. Before anyone starts dying."
The king blinked. "Talk to them?"
"As you know, I'm not from around here, so I would like to ascertain their intentions. See if there's a version of this that doesn't involve a siege. And if there isn't — I'd rather know what I'm dealing with before I commit to a fight."
The king considered this. Nodded. "You'll need to move quickly. The fleet will reach our waters within two days."
Yuki pulled a bundle from dimensional storage. A white mask — porcelain, featureless, styled after a samurai's mempo. A dark outfit — mana-woven, fitted, with a high collar and layered panels that gave him a silhouette nothing like his usual appearance.
The king leaned forward. "A disguise?"
"I'd rather not be known as the Confederation's champion. The fewer people who can connect this to me, the better for my family."
The king oohed at the outfit. Yuki chuckled. Kings, it turned out, appreciated cool armour as much as anyone.
Home.
He told them at dinner. Elena had made something with roasted duck and a citrus reduction that deserved better news to accompany it.
"The Dominion's attacking. Fleet and ground forces. I'm going to go handle it."
Silence. Then five voices at once.
"We're coming with—"
"No."
Kana stood on her chair. "But—"
"No. I don't know what a war zone looks like. I don't know how dangerous it'll be. This isn't a spider nest or a wolf pack. This is an army."
Lira's jaw was set. "You're going alone."
"To start. I'm going to talk to them first. If talking fails, I'll deal with it. If it spirals—" He looked at each of them. "—I'll teleport home and ask for your help. Immediately. I promise."
They didn't like it. But they agreed. Hana grabbed his hand under the table and didn't let go for the rest of the meal.
Bella spoke last. "Be careful. My eyes can't help you from here."
"I know. I'll be back before you need them."
Dawn. Yuki stood on the roof of his house, masked, disguised, the silver-blue hair hidden under the outfit's hood.
He cast his flight spell and launched.
The lake spread beneath him — vast, grey-blue, stretching to a horizon he couldn't see. Big enough that calling it a lake felt inaccurate. This was an inland sea. Cities on its shore. Nations on its banks. And somewhere on the far side, ten warships carrying thousands of soldiers toward Veldara.
He found them within the hour.
The fleet was in formation. Ten ships — large, heavy-hulled warcraft with reinforced prows and catapult platforms. They flew the Dominion's banner: a black fist on a red field. The ships moved in a tight arrowhead, cutting through the lake at a steady pace.
They were bigger than he'd expected. Each one was easily fifty metres stem to stern. Below deck, his mana sense registered dense concentrations of life signatures. Hundreds per ship.
Eight hundred to a thousand men each. That's up to ten thousand soldiers on the water alone. Plus the ten thousand marching overland.
He identified the flagship — the largest vessel at the formation's tip. Better construction. Finer detailing. A larger banner. The captain would be there.
He descended.
Landing on the deck of a warship at dawn was, Yuki discovered, an effective way to get everyone's attention.