Before Dallion set foot in Alliance, Veil was there waiting to greet him. Any other day, the overseer would have already muttered a few “I told you so”s. Not this time. The situation was bad enough without resorting to pettiness.

“Have everyone be on guard,” Dallion ordered. “And tell Hannah to expect copyettes. She’ll know what to do.”

In truth, it was Pan’s advice that Dallion wanted, though he preferred not to say it openly.

“How’s Eury?”

“In the forge, as Gen instructed.” Veil slid along the ground in an attempt to keep up. “I’ve isolated the place, so only you two will be there.”

Dallion nodded. In his mind, he had already come up with a series of spells to add additional layers of protection from spies, and other threats.

“Are you sure none of the other forgers can help? There’s no one close to your level, but even at your speed, there isn’t much that two people could achieve.”

“No.” Dallion’s tone was frightenedly sharp. “Only the two of us.”

“Sure, Dal. Whatever you say.”

“Don’t let any clerics get near. And get the dwarves to block off the gates.”

“You think we’ve been infiltrated?” Veil whispered.

Dallion didn’t give a response, but with everything that the archbishop had done, it was naïve to think they hadn’t. That was, probably, the greatest threat the Order held over everyone: as long as they were supportive, things seemed okay. The moment they turned, one could never be sure how bad things really were. Everyone within all of Dallion’s domains had risked their lives in fighting nymphs and beasts, yet that was no guarantee they weren’t copyettes.

Threads of calm, determination, and bravery were in the air. The overseer was doing everything necessary to keep the spirits up and the inhabitants ready for battle. Years ago, Dallion would have felt sick at the thought he’d be resorting to such means. Sadly, the stakes were too high not to.

People, buildings, and items greeted him as he passed by. Responding as curtly as he could afford, Dallion made his way straight to the city forge. The whole space had been rendered non existent for all but a handful of people. The normal citizen would pass by and never suspect that there had been a building there. Only mages and domain rulers would see the discrepancy and of them, only someone with a high enough level as Dallion would be able to enter the spot.

The sound of bellows and hammers could already be heard from inside. Euryale had gotten to work. That was good.

Moving faster than a gust of wind, Dallion went next to her. The gorgon, in turn, responded, turning around to give him a loving embrace.

“Missed you,” she whispered.

“Tell me about it.” Dallion held her tight, though only for a moment. “So glad to see you alright.”

“I left the monastery the moment Veil told me you were going to see the archbishop.” The snakes on her head swirled. “I didn’t want him to use me to threaten you.”

Lucky that she had. Things would have been considerably worse if she had remained in the Order’s grip.

“Are you sure you want to go through with this?” she asked. “We won’t be able to undo this.”

“It’s already too late to be undone.”

It was a dangerous game they were playing. Two sides already had rockets. The nymph empress had similarly dangerous mass spells. The only way he could compete was with a makeshift response, even if it was way underpowered compared to everyone else.

It would have been nice if Dallion had the time to create something more impressive, possibly experiment a bit to add his own out-of-the-box thinking. In order to make it to the capital on time, his only chance was to make crossbow rockets—as many of them as possible.

Summoning his clay cylinders, Dallion created three aether echoes. Contrary to initial expectations, creating rockets was child’s play when it came to magic. As long as one knew the principles and proportions—something that people in this world had difficulty grasping—everything else was a matter of creating as much alloy as quickly as possible.

Eury and two of Dallion’s echoes focused on the metalwork, while he himself cast the spells on the red-hot bolts. In order to make things as fast as possible, the gorgon had constructed a mound beforehand, based purely on Veil’s instructions. Just like her, the end result was nearly flawless.

Once the first batch cooled down enough, Dallion carefully took one. In his mind, he knew that it would take significant pressure for the bolt to explode. His subconscious, though, feared that if someone were to go wrong, it would take the entire building with it.

“Dal?” Eury asked, seeing the way he was looking at it. “Are you alright?”

“Just thinking about something.” He kept his eyes on the object. During the creation process, he had made sure for it to be a sphere item. Sending an item guardian to its death, even if he knew that guardians could always be brought back, was a bit too much. “Never thought we’d have to use one of these,” he sighed.

“There’s still a chance that we won’t.”

Dallion looked her way. The chances of that were less than zero.

“We’ll need a crossbow,” he said after a brief pause. “I can’t see myself throwing these by hand.”

Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

Dal. Veil’s voice came from the realm. We have a problem.

Still conscious of a potential trap set up by the archbishop, Dallion didn't respond. If that were really the overseer, he’d have no trouble appearing in person. The fact that he didn’t already put Dallion on guard.

Eury just came back, Veil continued. Pan cleared her. I’ve no idea who’s there with you, but it isn’t your wife!

So fast that they didn’t even create a blur, Dallion’s fingers cast a protective spell. Layers of hard amber spread from him along the floor, quickly going up every surface. Before anyone could react, the inside of the room was encased in the substance. It would hardly be enough to stop a copyette mage for long, but it was able to slow one down… provided that the person here really was a copyette. There still wasn’t any guarantee that the voice that Dallion heard really came from Veil. With both potential threats being in the city, he didn’t have the luxury of ignoring either.

Dallion summoned his bladebow, then burst into instances. In all, he thrust the weapon at her, careful to only hit her with the kaleidervisto. In ninety-nine percent of the cases, the attempt ended in failure. Yet, in two instances, he succeeded. Upon coming into contact with the artifact, a patch of translucent skin appeared on the gorgon’s shoulder, quickly spreading further. The fake Euryale pulled away, but it was too late—the disguise had been revealed.

Aware that the gig was up, the form quickly morphed into that of a slime. Three tentacles emerged from it, quickly transforming into weapons.

Knowing that any delay would cost him, Dallion infused his bladebow with spark and went forward with an arc attack. One of the creature’s limbs was severed off, falling on the floor. As it splattered, the liquid was quickly drawn to the rest of the creature, quickly becoming one whole.

“I wouldn’t have harmed you,” the copyette said in a female voice. “There’s no point. The archbishop has already foreseen every eventuality.”

“In that case, why’s your voice full of music strands?” Dallion asked, himself using music skills to counter the attack. “How did you get here?”

“Why should I tell you anything?” The copyette split into four. Dallion’s echoes hadn’t been idle, either. Aether spheres appeared in the room, capturing several of them like in a prison. That seemed to have been planned, though. For all captured parts of the slime exploded, shattering their aether cages and scattering fragments all about like shrapnel.

Despite his best intentions, Dallion was unable to evade all of them, earning himself a few nasty wounds. His aether echoes fared no different, poofing out of existence as a result.

“You’re right.” Dallion summoned his harpsisword. “You don’t have to. Still, I’ll give you a chance to surrender.”

“Eager to know who else is here?” The copyette laughed. “There’s more of us than you know. The truth is that only one race was permanently banished from this world. The archbishop started bringing us back millennia ago. We’re buried within it so deep that whole family trees are created by us.”

Dallion continued forward, engaging the creature with a multi attack. The copyette tried desperately to fend off the strikes with dozens of tentacles emerging from it, but the difference between the two was too vast. Now that it had lost the element of surprise, there was no way for it to win. And as Dallion’s coating spell had proved, even if it were to explode, that wouldn’t affect the rocket bolts.

“Last chance.” Dallion’s confidence quickly returned. He’d already seen that the archbishop couldn’t affect combat splitting from such a distance. Furthermore, the once undefeatable copyettes were now no different than brainless thugs. “Surrender, and you’ll be spared.”

“Sorry, Dal.” The slime kept on retreating, though not for one second stopping the fight. “I don’t want you to bring the end of the world.”

“You believe in the prophecies you make?”

“They’re called prophecies because they’re true. At one point, you probably meant well, but the archbishop has seen what will happen if you survive. The second most dangerous person in the world after the emperor is you.”

Before Dallion could react, the flexible material composing the copyette’s body became solid. The moment the next attack landed, it cracked it up like a pack of cracklings. Fearing that the copyette might explode, Dallion leaped back. hardened slime turned to blue sand, spilling all over the floor.

Four seconds later, Veil emerged onto the scene accompanied by Pan—in the guise of the merchant Fatun—and Euryale wearing her sun gold armor.

“Are you alright?” she instantly said, but Dallion gave her a sign not to approach.

“It refused to surrender,” he said, bending down. The sand was everywhere, like ground glass. “Lux, fly to Eury,” he said, looking over his shoulder.

The request was more than clear—there was no way of knowing that only one fake Euryale had infiltrated the city. His wife knew that, which was why she took hold of the kaleidervisto on top of the weapon without hesitation. Once done, she handed it to Veil.

“Is this safe?” Dallion asked.

“Yep,” Pan replied. “Very safe. Also disgusting.”

“How did it get here?”

“I’ve no idea. She felt like Eury entering your domain. Said the right things, even went through the conversations we had via the realms.”

“I guess it’s safe to say that the Order can listen in on realm conversations. So much for keeping things secret.”

If all the other advantages weren’t enough, this took things on a whole different level. The reason the Order knew so much wasn’t merely due to its vast presence, or its network of spies. The archbishop had been listening in to conversations between awakened and echoes—conversations that were supposed to be as secure as the world allowed. Dallion might as well have sent letters of his conversation with Adzorg to the entire Order.

“How many more do you think there are?” The overseer turned to Pan.

“A dozen at most,” the copyette replied. “Any more and I would have felt something.”

“You didn’t sense that one.”

“We’ll just have to be more thorough when we go through the cities.”

“There’ll be no checking,” Dallion said. “We’re putting all this on a wagon and heading to the capital.”

Utter silence filled the room. Emotions beamed from everyone like beacons. Concern, alarm, readiness for war.

“You’re going there on a wagon?” Eury asked the obvious question. “Running will be faster.”

“I can’t get there flying, and I’m not sure what I can trust. A wagon with three people will be enough. I’ll summon the horses. They’ll be almost as fast as me. We’ll be there by noon tomorrow at most. After that…” He stood up and shrugged. “At least the Moons will witness a spectacle.”

There was nothing to add to that. The domain wasn’t under siege, but this might well be their last stand. If Dallion failed to save the emperor and form an alliance with him, he wouldn’t be able to bear the full brunt of the Order against him.

“Why three?” Veil broke the uneasy silence in typical fashion.

“In order to succeed, we need to do three things: deal with the hidden copyettes, save the imperial capital from the Order’s rockets, and survive long enough for the emperor to change his mind about us. Eury will use a crossbow to keep the skies safe, I’ll fight any threat on the ground, and Pan will help reveal the copyette infiltrators. All it takes is to reveal a few for the fight to shift. Meanwhile, you, Hannah, and Di will protect what’s here. The Order has too much at stake to tip their hand while the emperor’s alive, but that doesn’t guarantee they won’t try. When I’m done, I want to have something to come back to.”