The next morning, the camp seemed oddly empty. Kaldalis never realized how many of the people he saw in the everyday foot traffic of Panbu were NPCs. It made sense now, though. No crafters, no porters, no builders, no managers.

It gave him the sensation of walking around in the city at 4 AM in the summer, when the sun is up but the streets are nearly empty.

Getting breakfast was a unique experience. Balrim, Reno, and a handful of other adventurers were manning the kitchen, cranking out meals and distributing them to the other early risers.

“Got a special one for you,” Balrim said when Kaldalis approached, handing him a shallow wooden bowl filled with steaming red noodles. “Thanks to a certain someone’s advice.”

“Thanks,” Kaldalis said as he accepted it. He wanted to ask about the dish, but the kitchen was busy and noisy, and Balrim turned away to deal with a bubbling pot before they could exchange another word.

It was easy to find a seat in the near-empty mess hall. There were only five or six others already there eating, despite the huge commotion filling the kitchen. Kaldalis was glad he beat the rush, and could only imagine - with mounting horror - what that would look like if the energy was reaching a fever pitch only feeding a half-dozen people.

He was even more glad when he sat down and actually got a good look at his meal. As soon as he had it on the table before him, the smell assaulted his sinuses. He inhaled deeply and it was like shoving his face into a fire.

The noodles were stained a rich red hue from the peppers that saturated every one of the small shell-shaped noodles. It betrayed SeventyEight - Amy - being the certain someone Balrim had mentioned.

It wasn’t fried mashi, like he had hoped at the combined smell of spice and sight of small round noodles. The noodles were more like italian-style shells, smaller and thinner, and the coating was a deeper red than the normal brownish hue of the sauce he was used to. The vegetable contents were also different, having been limited to the available fruits, mushrooms, and tubers available in the jungle.

Ultimately, it wasn’t quite what he wanted - even if Balrim had the right ingredients, Amy’s mom performed some manner of wizardry that no one could be expected to reproduce - but it was savory and filling, and punishingly spicy.

Unlike the meals made by the normal cooks, this one gave him a buff. It was called “Spicy Dish” and boosted his baseline Vigor, giving him a little boost to both armor and hit points.

He hoped that this dish would be optimal for him in the long run.

Not that he needed an excuse to seek out painfully spicy food already.

As he basked in the afterglow of a slightly too spicy meal defeated, Courbois entered the mess hall. She looked around the room for a moment before orienting on Kaldalis and hurrying to his side.

“The council is waiting for you,” she said, patting him on the shoulder. “They’re wait- uh.” She blinked at him a few times, brow furrowed. “Are you okay? You’re looking a little… Purpler than usual.”

“Yeah, I’m fine,” Kaldalis said, wiping sweat from his brow, surprised at how wet his hand came away. “I guess the fake video game bodies have a programmed response to spice, regardless of personal preference.” He waved a hand dismissively. “Don’t worry about it. What do the diplomats want?”

“Alright,” Courbois said, though her brow didn’t unfurrow. “They’re getting ready to push the button and they want to make sure everything’s ready.”

“Go tell them I’m doing a final pass around the walls,” Kaldalis said, heaving himself out of his seat. “Where do they want me to meet them?”

“They’re holed up by the beachside gate,” Courbois said, nodding her head in that direction. “There’s a longboat waiting on the dock for them, with Big Mike ready to pilot the craft to get them out once it starts.”

“And everyone else is clear?” Kaldalis said, meeting Courbois’s eyes. “None of the other NPCs are left?”

“The entire council is still here,” Courbois said, “with a couple of their bodyguards. Otherwise, the place is cleared. Deytambos, Jeran, Teebu, Droto, and I went building to building and tent to tent from right after the meeting until midnight, to make sure they all got out.”

“Thank you so much,” Kaldalis said, letting out a sigh of relief - and regretting it instantly at the spice he could still feel tickling across his tongue. “You’ve saved lives today.”

“We save lives every day,” she said with a smile, offering her hand.

They shook hands and she hurried off to pass his message to the diplomats. Kaldalis knew that Cerh would likely be upset by him sending a messenger back instead of leaping to comply, but if he wanted Kaldalis leaping to follow his every order, he shouldn’t have made that last meeting the final one.

Liberated from the Zaran Approval Rating bar, he didn’t need to care what they thought anymore.

When he reached the front gate, Kaldalis was surprised by what he found. He’d expected to see the gates sealed with a token handful of adventurers lingering, waiting for the fight. Instead, there was the better part of an army.

His army.

At least fifty adventurers were assembled around the gate. Two dozen at least were either in the archery towers or on top of the walls. Many of them were archers, but there were a decent number wielding spears or staves - weapons Kaldalis knew would give them mobility options to get down off the wall safely, as well as return to safety if they were overwhelmed.

The inner gate was open, and people were shouting and assembling parties in the killbox of those with less applicable weapons. The black-armored man with the sword and shield was among this group, and Kaldalis fought down the urge to pull him out of line and beat the shit out of him for trying to take a point position during a siege again.

But he remembered the first raid. Despite the numbers that eventually arrived on the scene, no other tanks stepped up to help carry the load.

As much as he’d never forgive the man for what happened to Haldir, he couldn’t squander his resources.

Kaldalis made his way around the walls, pleased to see that the other archery towers were manned now as well. There were still adventurers filing through town, either running random errands or making their way towards the front gate.

Every person he saw, he felt his confidence swell.

They were ready this time. Much more ready than they’d been at the last fight in Cotanaku.

He tried not to think that they had this in the bag, because he was starting to recognize that in his moments of greatest confidence he had always experienced equivalent calamities. But he wasn’t sure how he could possibly do to be more prepared than they were right now.

The council were waiting inside the beachside gate. The gate itself was closed and barricaded, and Kaldalis tried to hide his irritation that they were sealed in rather than ready to vacate. Courbois was near at hand, arms crossed over her chest, looking as irritated as Kaldalis felt.

As she had warned, there were four extra armed and armored guards arranged around them, with Captain Kensah positioned at the head of the group.

“We’re ready,” Kaldalis said once he was in earshot. “As soon as you’re ready to leave and get to safety, we’re only waiting for you to get us underway.”

“Change of plans,” Cerh said, tipping his head back imperiously. “We’re staying.”

Kaldalis struggled, and failed, to keep his eyes from bugging out with sudden surprise and outrage.

“You-” he began, but stopped when he felt his throat seize up. He had to take a moment to get a hold of himself before speaking or else his voice was going to crack.

“I tried to reason with them,” Courbois said, jerking her chin towards Jetmorpan. “You’re welcome to try, but don’t use logic. This one seems to be immune to it.”

“Why?” Kaldalis asked, addressing Cerh. “Why would you change the plan like this?”

“This is why,” Cerh said, making an expansive gesture that didn’t seem to mean anything. “The town. Your obsession with getting all of us out. Your irritation with our decision at this very moment.”

“We don’t trust you,” Jetmorpan said, glowering at Kaldalis. “It’s that simple. Maybe your intent isn’t to claim the town for yourself, but you must have a reason. You’ve tried so hard to get us out, it can’t be for nothing.”

“I’ve tried so hard,” Kaldalis said, raising a hand and rubbing his head just below his left horn, where he felt pressure already building, “and come so far, and in the end you’re too stubborn to see it’s for your own sakes.” His voice was rising as he spoke. He knew yelling wasn’t going to get him anywhere, but he couldn’t help himself. “Go to Cotanaku. If not for your own safety, then to understand that it’s for your own safety! There’s a list of names on the wall there. Those are the people we lost.

“Every morning,” Kaldalis continued, now really shouting, “I wake up and wonder if I could have done something to take one name off that list. Just one! I’m haunted by those names. That’s why I want you out of here!”

He felt a hand on his shoulder and flinched. Courbois leaned in and whispered to him: “it’s not worth it. I tried this same thing. Exactly this.”

True to her words, Jetmorpan and Cerh were unmoved by his outburst. Demriv was looking away, visibly ashamed, and Captain Kensah shifted uncomfortably, but none of them - not even the grimacing Big Mike - would speak up against Cerh now.

Kaldalis should have known how useful it was.

“Fine,” he said coldly. “We don’t have time for an argument long enough to make you understand.” He said to Courbois: “stay here and do your best to keep them safe.” He fixed Jetmorpan with a glare. “And see if you can get them to spell their names for you, just in case we have to add them to a wall somewhere.”

Jetmorpan’s glare didn’t break, and Kaldalis didn’t have time to play chicken with him. He looked away first.

“Start the event,” Kaldalis said, turning away. “And you better pray to whoever that I’m as good as I think I am.”