Nate stood uncomfortably near one of the tables within Princess Morgane’s tent. With Kiri next to him it was bearable, albeit barely. Morgane was clearly sounding him out, trying to determine his feelings towards her plight, not that it bothered him. From everything he had seen within the Capital of Etrua, he wholeheartedly agreed with her that Asmuisil was a better nation for its people. Their coming opponents in this war may have produced fewer Platinums than Etrua, but they still produced them. As far as Nate was concerned that meant that with enough talent, drive – and perhaps a bit of risk – it was still possible to achieve the heights reached in Etrua without being utterly disadvantageous to the rest of the populace.

  Funnily enough, it was those other Platinums that were making him uncomfortable now. Tomorrow they would, as one noble had commented, be within spitting distance of the Asmuisillans. So tonight, they would dine and prepare. It was pageantry, plain and simple, even if the attendees were the complete opposite. The Nobles were all veiled, but the air thrummed with the leashed power. Nate was almost certain they were doing it on purpose, releasing just a bit of their mana as a power play. The display wasn’t for him or Kiri, though. He and his sister had warranted a single glance from most denizens before being summarily ignored. No, the display they were putting on was for each other, like strutting peacocks trying to prove who was the most beautiful. Or the most powerful, he supposed.

  There were exceptions though. The more astute had perhaps asked themselves why two Gold-ranked Guild members were invited to the dinner, when the Storm Spear had not been. Aisling hadn’t cared, of course, pointing out that since she wasn’t a part of the Bright Army, that she should correctly be excluded.

  “When will this be over, do you think?” Kiri griped.

  “Aisling said we shouldn’t leave within the first hour or it would be considered rude,” Nate shot back, though he wanted nothing more than to return to his own tent.

  Kiri mumbled something that Nate was pretty sure was a curse before breaking away from him to get herself another drink.

  That moment of separation was apparently enough of an excuse for one of the nobles to pounce. The tall woman that approached him bore some small resemblance to Aisling. Nate ventured a guess that she must be from somewhere along the border of Etrua and the Kirshell Mountains. Like Aisling she had blonde hair, and dark brown eyes with sun-kissed skin. The difference was in the high cheekbones that turned her face from looking blocky into severe. Covering her tanned skin was a loose robe striped in the colours of grey and red that made her eyes and skin tone all the more vibrant. Nate pointedly ignored the sword that hung at her hip.

  “So, you’re the pup that dragged the Storm Spear out of her hole. What is your name, boy?” demanded the woman.

  Nate considered not answering, given the woman's rude tone. In the end though, starting a fight seemed troublesome and he was reasonably confident that Morgane would step in. So he matched the noble’s attitude instead.

  “Nathaniel, yours?” Nate replied in a bored tone, glancing at the woman before his eyes returned to roving over the rest of the tent and its occupants.

  Instead of being offended, the older woman looked amused, “Nathaniel, is it? And not at all concerned? I am Baroness of the Northern Steppes, Olithia Varkhul.”

  The Baroness paused for a moment, circling him slowly like a shark before it struck. His barrier was in place and he was certain it could take a blow so he simply waited, reading her body language as best he could through his sphere of awareness. He felt her pulse quicken slightly and he prepared for the blow.

  It came, but not in the form he expected.

  “Fearless and pretty. Perhaps that is what the Princess sees in you. If she has not already laid claim to you, you should come visit me in my tent later this evening.”

  Nate blinked a few times, trying to hide his surprise. He was just glad he didn’t blush.

  Olithia laughed throatily, her dark amber eyes now alight with amusement, “Not completely innocent either. That’s good, though I am sure I can find a few things to teach you. I promise to be gentle. You’ll find my tent easily enough; it’s flying my colours.”

  The Baroness ran a hand over her red and white robes, subtly letting it drift down over her stomach before turning away from him in a swish of fabric, moving over to join some of the other nobles around one of the tables.

  Kiri finally returned to his side as Nate stared off into the distance.

  “What was that all about?” she asked, sipping on something that smelled like tropical punch.

  “A proposition,” Nate answered honestly, glancing at the roof of the tent to ignore the huge smile on Kiri’s face.

  “She’s old enough to be your mother. Perfect for you then!” Kiri teased.

  Nate repressed a sigh as Kiri started making jokes. Thankfully Frick wasn’t along to join in. Nate reached over, taking the tropical punch from his sister's hand and finishing the cup as she laughed. It was going to be a long hour, he decided. One day he would work out why older women seemed to have a thing for him. Hopefully Olithia wouldn’t take it personally when he didn’t show up.

  *************

  Nate stood on the edge of a hill, the sound of the camp fortifications being created drowning out almost every other noise. Yet the grumble of rolling earth and the sensation of unleashed mana within his sphere of awareness wasn’t enough to draw Nate’s eyes away from the sight of the army that opposed them.

  The previous night's antics had given Nate some insight into the men and women, nobles all, who would be the key combatants. He thought of them as key, since it was their power that would almost certainly be the deciding factor in the coming battles. Perhaps he was being arrogant, but knowing that he had sold his runecrafted barrier creations en-masse to Asmuisil made him suspect that the attacks by the Etruan conscripts against the fortified Asmuisil empowering enchantments were doomed to fail.

  Even now, across the grassy fields, he could see the Asmuisil war-machine in motion. The differences between Etrua and Asmuisil were stark. The Bright Army was like a rabble housing some spoiled rich kids. Or adults, he supposed, thinking back to Baroness Olithia. The conscripts’ camp was in utter chaos and had been for the entire march. There was no order enforced beyond staying within their designated area. Not a difficult proposition given it covered two thirds of the entire camp by now. He could hear plenty of yelling as the Gold-ranked guards of the Nobility started to try and organise the conscripts, gathering them into groups, but even that seemed to require little order. Kiri was back there with them, guarding one of the logistics officers as they handed out the most common of weapons and shields to the conscripts. No armour, though. Too expensive, he guessed, which just made the simmering in his chest bubble with barely concealed fury. The conscripts were to be fed to the meat-grinder, all to throw enough flesh at their enemies to try and disrupt their enchantments.

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  The nobility on the other hand were arrayed near Nate in groups, surrounded by their Gold-ranked retainers. It was those Gold-ranks that were building the fortifications. Earth Mages channelled mana to create a simple wall with a walkway on top. Nate could understand the logic behind their simplicity. Their only goal was to break their enemies line of sight. Creating a fortification that could stand up to the kind of power a Platinum individual could unleash was a waste of mana and effort. They just wanted to make sure what went on in the camp could not be seen by the naked eye. Most of the nobility’s tents had their own anti-scrying wards. Nate knew that from experience, having used his farsight sphere of awareness to roam over their camp more than once on the march.

  The way war was conducted on Galle was very different to what he had expected. Different to Earth, he supposed. With magic in the mix there was an added layer to the conflict and a question of where to spend an army's mana supplies. Nate sighed and glanced to where he saw Princess Morgane. She was armoured today, though she bore no weapon that he could see. Her black hair blew freely in the breeze and he noted that he couldn’t feel the usual buzz of a Concept around her. The second time he had noted that particular oddity. Could she turn the effect on and off then? Not having a constant passive like Null could be the explanation, but he would keep trying to figure it out. The Princess was too far away for him to hear what she said, but her mouth moved, and three of her attendants gave quick nods before hurrying away.

  Across from them, on the other side of the field, the forces of Asmuisil prepared for the Etruan war machine. The army of their opponents, as he couldn’t bring himself to think of them as his enemies, gave a sense of order and unity. Clearly arrayed into cohorts, with matching armour and equipment, the army of Asmuisil already looked ready for a fight. Extending his farsight sphere of awareness, he found a couple of similarities between the two camps. Like with Etrua, there were sections that were warded against scrying. The soldiers' tents, however, were not. They had also created a simple earthen wall, though it looked like they had used the strength of their arms and shovels, rather than magic. That was where the similarities ended.

  All the soldiers that he sensed wore black metal bands around their wrists. Conceptual Insight hummed, and due to his own knowledge, he could tell that the Sigil for Connect was involved. The empowerment arrays were warded against his sight, and he strongly considered whether to brute force the enchantment to get an idea of exactly how Asmuisil’s empowerment enchantment worked. The only reason he held off for now was that he didn’t want to trigger a response. After the battle had started he would take a peek. It took him a minute but he finally found what he suspected was a recipient of one of the array’s power. Functional armour covered the young man, as Nate judged him to be of a similar age to himself. The tall champion stood at the front of one of the army cohorts, short brown hair matching a short blade on his hip. Black metal peeked out from parts of the armour – black like the bands the soldiers wore.

  Nate considered how he might get a look at the armour the man wore. He was almost certain that it was the armour that connected to the empowerment enchantment.

  “Do you think you could sneak into their camp?” he asked Frick.

  “Sneak in? Definitely. What do you want me to do afterwards, though?” replied Frick from inside his Runic Gallery.

  “See if they have any spare armour like that one,” replied Nate, indicating the Asmuisillan Champion.

  Frick popped out next to him, the small blue goblin looking across the grasslands, the earth soon to be churned by the feet of thousands of conscripts and soldiers.

  “Maybe, Boss. Why though?”

  “Wondering if I could use a similar idea to make some new armour for Britt,” he responded. If the armour was a receiver for the processed mana of others, could he make something that could use processed mana to further empower the recipient. He suspected it would function like a boosting Skill, and would only last as long as the processed mana. But perhaps he could force it to enhance particular Stats.

  Next to him, Frick ran his long tongue over his sharp teeth.

  “Fuck, Boss, I’ll give it a go. Ain’t nothing more goblin than sneaking about and stealing shit!”

  Nate smiled his thanks as Frick vanished back into his Runic Gallery. All that was left to do was wait.

  The wait, it turned out, was not as long as he expected. It seemed both commanders…generals…leaders – he wasn’t sure what to call the Princess, he decided that Commander would do – wanted to get a sense of their opponents. Three nobles strode slowly down the hill. Behind them came a horde of conscripts in something that he could only be described as a mob. The mob of conscripts was loosely divided into three groups. Within the mob were a number of Gold-ranked individuals. He guessed they were meant to be the ones to punch through and disrupt the empowering enchantments. Nate didn’t see Coralie among them, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t there.

  On the opposing side, three cohorts of Asmuisillans moved forward in orderly ranks. In the centre of each cohort was a large metal cube, carried by four soldiers. The cubes were warded, but Nate guessed that those were the empowering devices. Or, at least, whatever housed the empowering devices. Protecting such an enchantment was a necessity on a battlefield, so making them incredibly difficult to destroy seemed like a no-brainer. It also explained for Nate why the Etruans would target the individuals powering the enchantment, rather than the enchantment itself.

  At the head of each cohort strode a champion, though Nate noted there was also one at the back of each cohort. So the enchantment could be redirected, he guessed, meaning the Asmuisil champions could swap out with their companions. The same looked to be true of the individuals empowering the enchantment. Most of the soldiers of Asmuisil carried a large round shield and short swords. In the back, however, Nate noticed a small contingent, still armoured, but carrying a variety of ranged weapons and what he suspected were wands. He noticed more than a few of his barrier bracers among that cohort.

  A cry went up from one of the three nobles and the Etruan army charged. The nobles quickly extended their lead on the conscripts as Nate watched from his place on the hill. He sensed as Aisling moved up next to him but kept his eyes glued on the battlefield. The three champions from Asmuisil began to cross the field. Nate’s eyes widened at the speed of the young man, the one he had first noted. He knew that Embodiments were a force multiplier, but he hadn’t expected the man to be faster than Kiri when she empowered herself. The blurring swordsman was met by one of the Nobles who veered right to cut him off. Their initial clash left the area around them destroyed, grass blowing away and dirt flying from the force and speed behind their blows. With his farsight sphere of awareness, he could feel how the wind whistled with every swing of their blades and the vibrations in the air as metal collided with metal.

  The other champions and nobles weren’t idle. Two of them had taken to the skies and Nate sensed wind whistling as one of the nobles controlled it, the woman cackling in naked glee at unleashing her power. In response another young man, this one looking delicate in his armour, seemed to be using planes of force not unlike Nate’s own barriers, to carry him through the sky and redirect her attacks.

  The final pair of champions were the slowest to meet each other. The Asmuisillan Champion rode in on a wave of earth like she was surfing across the plains, her body coated in rocky armour. The Etruan Noble opposing her swung a hammer taller than he was, impacting the Champion and sending her flying. The Earth-using Champion’s landing should have dug a furrow in the earth but instead the earth rose to greet her, carrying her around in a circle as it moved to put the Champion back on their feet, sending them straight back into the fight.

  As the sounds of battle rolled over him, the charging conscripts finally reached the front line of the Asmuisil army. That was when the screaming started. Nate bent over to vomit as Aisling rested a hand on his barrier over his back.

  “You had best head to the Healers’ tents. They’re about to become very busy.”

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