Chapter 76: Battle Plans

“We have time,” Alex said. “A day, maybe a day and a half before the heavy reinforcements arrive. That’s not long, but as we know, that is practically an eternity on the battlefield. Everyone should sit and cultivate. Patch yourself up and push hard. Alchemists, brew everything, throw every potion into the mix. Enchanters, you prep talismans and set traps. Ranged fighters, start to practice chain shots and combos together. And tanks, rest and tape those wounds. Lastly, healers, plan triage rotations because we’ll be burning pots until dawn.”

He snapped his fingers and a dozen little mental checklists lit up in his vision for him, Obby’s help allowing him to reduce the world down to tasks and outcomes.

Obby piped up in his mind as well, “Glorious. Revenge flavored with logistics, my favorite combination, how did you know? And this plan… finally, a reasonable path toward death.”

Alex almost growled, but kept spinning through the gears in his head as he thought of various details of the battle-plan; the supply lines, fallback points, kill zones, rankings on who could burn their aether fastest and how long they can hold out.

“No mercy is our only option,” Alex said. His tone was cold, leaving no room for arguments “There will be no last-minute heroics which get us all sacrificed for a few names etched in an epitaph after all this. We will take their power houses out, then break their ability to reproduce, and then we burn the corpses until even their bones are ash. No queen leaves this fight. Not a one survives.”

A chorus of voices answered him, affirmation, doubt, followed by various nods. Selka’s eyes were still wet but her gaze held a burning desire for revenge that Alex more than understood. Cole’s arms still trembled, but Alex saw his hands grip tight into fists like he was ready to use them, like he’d tear the world down with them.

Alex turned toward Malric. “Take me to Karsali. We need to coordinate everyone, the cannons, siege magic placements, line rotations, all of it. I want her at the table while we plan. We’ll need the Empire’s reach, but I won’t let them bully us into sitting and waiting. And I have a few other demands as well.”

Malric studied him for a heartbeat, then inclined his head.

***

The command tent smelled of blood-dampened canvas and old woodsmoke. Dim lantern light wavered against the fabric walls, making shadows ripple like uneasy water on the inner surfaces. A rough map dominated the center table, its parchment smudged and creased from many hasty hands at work. Miniature markers of carved wood and shaped lead dotted the map’s surface showing lines of troops. There were barely-functional cannon emplacements over mountain-cliffs, their position marked by scratched ink.

Alex waited patiently with some of the team in the tent, Selka, Cole, Eric, Allie, Holly and Kate. The flurry of movement happened around them as they all watched and listened.

Malric and Karsali had already dug into a short conflict, their voices came as a relentless grind of argument. Malric jabbed a finger at Karsali, then Alex, before gesturing at the map where there were varrying choke points sketched out. He began tapping with the precision of a scholar making the most important point of their career. Karsali countered with broader strokes, moving little soldier blocks like pieces on a game board, her tone was clipped short, and harsh as if the battle could be won with perfect unshakable Empire born pride.

Alex stood beside them with his arms folded, listening to both talk as though numbers and ranges could keep people from dying somehow. He let them spar for a while over trajectories and blast radii. They were somewhat right of course, logistics did matter to some degree in large conflicts like this, but all the while Alex’s eyes lingered on the carved markers.

Each block was a soldier who might not see another dawn, a person who had brothers, sisters, mother, fathers and children of their own. They were all people who would possibly die.

The argument finally ground to an uneasy halt, the two Empire officials coming to a few compromises. The cannons were placed on the hillside to Karasli’s specifications, while Marlic drew the fall-back lines. Alex could see healer rosters scribbled along the parchment margins. No one looked happy about every choice, the two functioned exactly as a long marriage between jaded lovers would have.

That was when Karsali pushed forward five new figurines. The scrape of them against the map was loud in the new quiet of the tent.

The five figures; one black, white, red, silver, and gold. These were the queens.

Alex stared at them and felt his throat tightening. The miniatures were too small, too crude to capture what those creatures really were, but the presence they represented on the map was undeniable. This was the true decision they had to make, and why Alex wanted to talk to Karsali. He didn’t really care about the cannon placements or troop lanes. What he cared about was the decision of who fought which queen. That was more important than all the rest.

Selka moved forward before he could stop her, her hand darting outward to the black figurine. “The Shadow, Queen” she said, “Give me the Shadow-queen. I’ll—” Her voice hitched, just for a moment, and the rage underneath her control threatened to overwhelm her.

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Cole’s declaration followed, “The Silver-queen. I want her.”

Alex felt their motivations keenly. He understood, and he wanted revenge too. He wanted to tear the Shadow Queen apart, wanted to burn her down to ash and never hear her chuckle again. But that wasn’t the pathway to victory here. It might feel emotionally cathartic, but emotion got you killed on the field of battle.

“No.” His tone was flat and absolute.

Both Selka and Cole looked at him with fury and disbelief flashing in their eyes. Their grief was a living thing, a predator desperate for a target and it was starting to sight on him. He could see it in their trembling shoulders, in the way Selka’s fists clenched so tight her knuckles turned white. But Alex didn’t look away or cower under the angry looks.

“If you go in like that, you’ll die in seconds,” he said. “You’ll be blind and predictable. She’ll rip you apart.”

Selka’s lip curled, ready to argue, but Alex’s stare was hardened even further, cutting off her retort. Cole ground his jaw tight enough to almost crack his teeth, but he didn’t speak.

Karsali’s frowned at the exchange, “Okay. Then who are we having fight the Queens?”

Alex already knew the answer. He pointed at each figurine on the table as he talked. “Garret, Henry, Eric, and Myrae, they will fight the Shadow-queen. She fights dirty with her shadow skills and movements, but Henry and Garret can take her blows and pin her down. Eric will keep offensive pressure and ensure the killing blow is dealt. Myrae’s aether aura can help track her even if she tries to slip away, and he light attunement can help limit the queen’s shadow movement skills. They’ll be able to handle her.”

It was not a perfect team, no team was perfect against that monster, but it was better than sending grief stricken mages into the grinder.

Malric shifted uneasily but nodded. Karsali pressed her lips thin, then gave the smallest dip of her chin. Agreement then. One Queen fight figured out.

The rest fell in place quickly, the teams set up like pieces in a game, a game that Alex hated playing.

“Peter, Devon, Kate, and Doran will fight the Wind Queen,” Alex said. He moved the silver figurine across the map, tapping the spot where the mountains funneled into the valley crest. “Kate will have the mobility needed against her, while Devon has ranged power and Doran is a solid tank. They can pin her down with Peter’s illusions, or he will otherwise be able to boost the rest of the team.

“Cole, Zach, Ghrukk, and Lance will take the Light Queen.” He looked at Cole again, this time with less denial and more an emotional check-in. The water mage merely tsk’d loudly but didn’t complain. Alex continued, “She’s got numbers as her defense, as she can boost a huge number of the chimera soldiers. You need brute force to shatter her boosted underlings. Zach and Ghrukk will be the ones to crack them open. Lance will provide terrain control and defense of his own. Cole rounds off their offense while being the off healer.”

Cole’s jaw was still tight, but this time he nodded once, accepting his assigned role.

“Holly, Allie, Selka, Tom-Tom—and Aburi just volunteered, actually—for the Magma Queen.” He glanced at Selka, seeing the twitch in her eye. “Magma’s all strength and force, but she’s slow. Holly’s wind can take away her advantage by being much faster, same with Selka. The two together will more than the queen can handle. Allie can keep support in the back, her ranged light and darkness spells pack quite the punch lately. Meanwhile Tom-Tom provides added chaos. Aburi’s raw weight and power will make sure they have a tank should the need arise.”

That left only one more queen. The gold figurine.

Karsali’s fingers rested near it on the table, almost possessive. Malric’s brows furrowed as he looked between her, and Alex. Both of them already knew what Alex was about to say.

“The Original Queen is mine,” Alex said utterly devoid of warmth. “I will fight her, with you two beside me.”

“She’ll read you too easily,” Malric warned softly. “She has fought you one on one before, and she’s even stronger now. She’ll see every weakness you have and exploit it.”

“She already fought me and learned my tactics, yes,” Alex said. “But that advantage cuts both ways. I know how she moves too, how she fights. I’ll bait her to do what we need. You two hit the angles.”

Suddenly from the edge of the tent Symon spoke up, the mage somehow having slipped into the meeting without anyone noticing. His voice was smooth and sly as always, “I’ll join that dance too. If you’ll have me.” He grinned with the recklessness of a man volunteering for his own funeral.

Alex looked at him, his emotions caught between annoyance at the over-the-top personality, and reluctant respect for him volunteering for what would be the most deadly fight. “Fine. It will be us four against her. If you’re that eager to die, might as well do it beside us where we can laugh as it happens.”

Kletos shifted then, surprising Alex even more. The boy was small but as he spoke up, his tone belied his apparent age. “I’ll help the others on the front. Wherever I’m needed.” Unlike Symon, his words carried no fanfare or bravado.

Alex grunted an agreement. He’d expected the three he helped break out of the Andrea to cut and run days ago. The fact they were still here, choosing to stand among them in the madness at least said something about their character.

With that done, the table was set. There were still a few petty arguments to be had over small details. They argued over talisman reserves, and over ammunition for the cannons, little things mostly. They argued because the details had to be decided, because each scrap of preparation might be the one thing that kept someone alive.

“There’s something else I need,” Alex said. “Healing items. Do you have any powerful enough to regenerate limbs?”

Malric and Karsali shared a glance before the Urhara Knight answered him. “We do, but those are precious, expensive—“

“Hand them to my team, they will take care of the rest. If we want these Queens killed, I can’t have have my people with missing limbs. or hands.”

“Fine, we’ll see to it.” Malric was the one to answer this time. “But, you should know, we only have one such potion. That’s it.”

Alex thought that over. Did he need to pick a single person to get their fully body back? How could he chose just one of them? Was someone more worthy of it than another? No, he couldn’t be the one to decide such things.

“Give it to Allie, she’ll know what to do,” he said. He hoped she’d be able to figure something out to make more of the potion. Or at least, she’d make the decision for him.

Malric nodded and began writing once more. When the last details were scribbled down, the Arcanuum mage sat in a chair, already exhausted. “Dawn,” he said. “That’s all the time we have. Less than a day. Use it wisely.”

Alex laid his hand flat on the map, over the mark in the forest where they knew the hive waited. His own reflection stared back from the glasses Malric wore just at the edge of his nose.

“We’ll be ready,” he said.

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