The Aftermath
The acrid stench of burnt supplies lingered in the air as soldiers worked tirelessly to clear the wreckage. Leon stood amidst the destruction, his expression unreadable as he surveyed the damage. The fire had left the depot in ruins, and the alliance's morale had taken a sharp hit.
Bjorn approached, his tone tight with frustration. "We've assessed the damage. Nearly half of the food and medical supplies are gone. This wasn't an accident, Leon."
Leon nodded slowly, his gaze fixed on the smoldering debris. "It was sabotage."
Nathan joined them, his face pale but determined. "And whoever did this wants us to turn on each other. It's working. The soldiers are already pointing fingers."
Leon's chest tightened. The whispers of mistrust had begun spreading before the fire, but this act of sabotage had fanned the flames. If the alliance fractured now, they would never stand against Lysander.
---
Gathering the Leaders
The leaders gathered in the war tent, their faces tense. Princess Samirah Bint Khadija of Al-Qarath stood at the head of the table, her presence commanding as her piercing gaze swept over the group.
"This isn't just sabotage," she began, her voice cold. "It's a message. Lysander is testing us, and so far, we've failed."
Prince Jianren Xiang of Zhaoling, ever composed, countered evenly, "Your criticism is premature, Princess. Jumping to conclusions without evidence will only deepen the divisions Lysander seeks to exploit."
Samirah's emerald eyes narrowed. "And waiting for your meditative insights will leave us defenseless."
Leon raised a hand to forestall further argument. "Enough. We need to focus on uncovering the truth. Lyara is already examining the magical traces. Once we have answers, we'll act decisively."
The tension in the room eased slightly, though the undercurrent of mistrust remained. Atlas, who had been standing near the entrance, spoke quietly. "In the meantime, we need to reinforce security. Bjorn and Nathan have already increased patrols, but we'll need everyone to stay vigilant."
Leon glanced at Atlas, a flicker of gratitude in his gaze. "Agreed. Let's not give Lysander another chance to strike."
---
The Hunt
That evening, Lyara approached Leon with a faintly glowing crystal in hand. "I've isolated the magical traces from the fire. They lead to the eastern perimeter."
Leon's pulse quickened. "Is it strong enough to track?"
Lyara nodded. "It's faint, but it's there."
Leon turned to Bjorn and Nathan. "Gather a small team. We're going after them."
The group moved swiftly through the camp, following the crystal's faint glow. The forest at the edge of the camp was eerily quiet, the shadows stretching long under the moonlight. As they neared the perimeter, a figure darted between the trees.
"Stop!" Leon called, drawing his sword.
The figure froze for a moment before bolting deeper into the forest. Bjorn cursed under his breath. "We're not losing them this time."
---
The Chase
The group pursued the figure through the dense underbrush, their movements swift but cautious. Nathan raised a glowing barrier to cut off the figure's escape, forcing them into a clearing.
The figure turned, their face partially obscured by a hood. Leon recognized them instantly—it was the same Fleurian defector who had escaped him before.
"You again," Leon said coldly, his sword at the ready.
The defector smirked, their tone mocking. "Persistent, aren't you?"
Before Leon could respond, the defector raised a hand, unleashing a burst of magical energy. The group scattered, but Bjorn recovered quickly, his sword flashing as he lunged at the defector.
The defector dodged, but their movements were slower now, their energy clearly waning. Nathan's barrier closed in, trapping them in a shimmering cage of light.
"It's over," Leon said, stepping forward. "You're coming with us."
The defector hissed in frustration but made no further attempt to escape.
---
Interrogation
Back in the war tent, the defector sat bound, their smirk unwavering despite their predicament. The allied leaders stood around them, their expressions a mix of anger and anticipation.
Samirah's voice was sharp. "Let's skip the pleasantries. Who sent you?"
The defector's smirk widened. "You already know the answer."
Leon stepped closer, his voice steady but cold. "Lysander. What's his plan?"
The defector laughed, the sound hollow and bitter. "Even if I told you, it wouldn't matter. He's already won."
Jianren's calm voice broke through the tension. "And yet you're here, captured and powerless. Perhaps it's you who has lost."
The defector's smirk faltered as Lyara approached, holding the glowing crystal. "This will reveal the traces of magic you've used. Resist, and it won't be pleasant."
The defector's confidence wavered as the crystal pulsed, revealing a series of glowing symbols etched into their magical aura. Lyara's expression darkened as she studied the markings.
"It's a directive," she said finally. "Lysander's forces are targeting the southern outpost."
Leon's heart sank. The southern outpost was vital to the alliance's supply lines. If they lost it, the war would tip in Lysander's favor.
Bjorn's voice was grim. "Then we don't give him the chance. We move now."
Leon nodded, his resolve hardening. "Gather the troops. We leave at first light."