The governor's manor was an old thing, and centuries of history lurked in its high, vaulted beams. In some senses, it was as old as the city – though not in its current iteration. Apparently, it had once been a longhouse, back when Deadacre had been little more than a trading outpost on the road to Mystral.

  Even then, the city's bones had been old. Beyond the hardpacked earth that provided a convenient barrier to grazing beasts, there had been stone foundations — the ancient catacombs that they now knew hid an even older imperial ruin.

  Gentile Frent, the governor's ancestor, had been adamant about turning the place into a metropolis. The years since had seen the manor levelled and rebuilt more than once, always the house of the city's leadership. Now it was a reinforced monolith that loomed over the city: a symbol of success, forged out of the nominal destitution of the frontier.

  Following behind a butler, Kaius peered at its halls curiously. Blocky and austere stone had been tempered with carved wood panelling, tapestries that lined the walls every few long strides, and a seemingly endless array of portraits.

  Judging by the way the butler kept glancing at them, the man was suppressing the urge to tell them the stories of each and every painted subject. While it might have been standard and appropriate for a normal visitor to the manor to be given the grand tour, the current circumstances were far too urgent.

  A bloody war council. How in the hells had he ended up invited to one of those?

  It was difficult to adjust to the prominence of his new station. He'd spent his entire life trying to hide who he was, and what he could do. Now he simply walked up to the gates of the governor's manor, and the guards waved him inside without even a second glance.

  He could admit that it was convenient, but it still felt strange.

  Glancing at yet another portrait, Kaius hoped the long service of the Frents to Deadacre would come with more than just history – alliances, hopefully. Something that would give them an edge against the threats approaching the city.

  He knew there were close ties between Grandbrook and Deadacre. Unfortunately, the other major city of the Frontier was far, and poorly positioned; any relief force would likely run into the beast horde before it reached the city walls, and only a fool would meet such an army on an open field.

  Mystral, though, lay in the opposite direction – and mage cadres had far more flexibility than men-at-arms. It was possible they might come to aid. He knew they had some sort of compact, though he couldn’t remember the specifics. Some sort of service that had been rendered in the distant past.

  Regardless, if Dross was right, an army of beasts was coming. Even if no help would come, they had to find a way.

  He’d feel just a little more confident in their chances if he knew anything about siege warfare.

  The butler slowed, stopping before a large arched door.

  “Sirs, madam, we've arrived. The others are already inside.”

  Kaius shared a glance with his team. All of them looked determined and nervous – exactly like he felt.

  “Thank you,” Kaius replied.

  The butler bowed, then opened the door for them.

  The room beyond was large, dominated by a table at its centre. Kaius was met with a council of seven. Rieker, Ro, and Arc were familiar to him. The others were not.

  At the head of the table sat a man of moderate stature and a severe gaze that could only have been Governor Hanrik Frent. His rich burgundy robes with purple accents made that clear, as did the medallion of office around his neck.

  The others were a little more opaque. Two had the bearing of men who'd seen combat. One had to be the captain of the guard, or similar, judging by the heraldry on his armour — the gnarled skeleton of a tree. The other was harder to place: dressed in leathers, with only an unfamiliar sigil sewn into his breast.

  To the right of them was a man in formal attire, shuffling through a stack of notes.

  The final member was a woman in priestly robes, who gave them a warm smile as they halted at the threshold.

  With all eyes on him and his party, Kaius filed in, taking a seat at the empty section of the table. Porkchop sat on his right, between him and the priestess, while Ianmus and Kenva filed in on his left, between him and Ro.

  “I hope we're not late,” Kaius said apologetically. They looked to be the last to arrive.

  At the head of the table, Hanrik gave him a warm smile, though it looked a little forced.

  “’Tis more that the rest of us are early,” the governor responded. “’It’s lovely to finally meet the four of you, and I must say, what a pleasant surprise it is to have more competent Silvers in the city – though I wish that our first meeting came in less desperate circumstances.

  “Allow me to introduce the others who will be assisting us in the defence of this great city.”

  Henrik swept his hand down the table.

  “Ramsey is my captain of the guard. And the ruffian beside him is Ernst. He’s been doing his best to organise some of the more enthusiastic in the city into something of a militia. They will be leading the rank and file.”

  This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

  Both men gave him simple nods.

  Henrik continued, smiling at the next man in line.

  “Fyfen is my aide and chamberlain. He's something of a wizard when it comes to logistics. He will be invaluable for our plan.”

  The chamberlain inclined his head politely before Henrik shifted to the last person unfamiliar to Kaius.

  “And this is Susanna, the senior priestess of the Myriad Temple. She will be leading relief efforts in the healing centres, if it comes to that.”

  The priestess gave them a polite smile. “Let us hope it does not. By the gods' grace, we've been struggling with resources and manpower just with the influx of refugees.” She shook her head. “We won't be able to save everyone.”

  “An unfortunate reality of war,” Ramsey, the guard captain, growled.

  He sounded experienced. Was the man a veteran? Kaius hadn’t heard of there being a war in decades – at least not outside the dukedoms’ internal territorial jostling. Those were as much competition pomp as they were real battles.

  As the priestess was about to reply, the chamberlain, sitting next to her, raised his hand.

  “Let us discuss specifics, since our meeting has been called to session. We have too much to cover to approach it haphazardly.”

  “Will Dross be joining us?” Kaius asked. The man had vital information, but he'd just lost his team. Gods, he couldn't even imagine the state Dross must have been in. If he lost Ianmus and Kenva — or gods forbid Porkchop…

  Kaius clenched his teeth as a surge of anxiety welled up in his stomach. Almost unconsciously, Porkchop shuffled a little closer.

  “No,” Ro replied, shaking her head. “It would be a cruelty to make him join this and relive what he has experienced. Besides, he has already told me everything he knows.”

  Henrik nodded severely. “His service and sacrifice to the city – and the even greater actions of his team – have earned him a little rest, at the very least. Dross can be looped in later, if and when he is ready to join our defence efforts.”

  The governor rose to his feet. “Regardless, we are here for a reason. I call this meeting on the topic of a beastly invasion to session. Now tell me – what do we know?”

  “Precious little,” Rieker growled as Henrik took his seat once more. “Long-range scouts are already en route, but I've had to be selective about who I picked. I don't want anyone getting within a dozen leagues of a bloody army, not when a disturbing number of beasts are supposedly Steel strength.”

  “What of our scrying?” the captain of the guard asked. “A force that size should be screaming like a bloody bonfire.”

  “There's some sort of interference,” Ro replied, scowling. “Something is happening, but movements, numbers, and distances are impossible to tell. It doesn't help that the rise in mana levels has already impacted the accuracy of seers and artifice alike.”

  Ernst, the militiaman, raised his brow. “So we have no eyes and no forewarning, except the word of a man grief-stricken by the loss of his team. Are we sure it is wise to move to a war footing on that alone?”

  Rieker gripped the edge of the table, thumb-thick oak screaming its protest. “You would challenge Dross? A Silver who has worked these lands for decades, when he could have long since left for easier living, finer sights, and better pay literally anywhere else? You may as well spit on him.”

  Breaking his stoic silence, Arc leaned in and placed his hand on Rieker's shoulder. Ernst paled at the war dog's intensity.

  “Peace,” Arc said. “This one implores that we focus on what is most important here – the safety of those who will be helpless before such a force.”

  Across the table, the priestess Susanna nodded. “Well said. Even unconfirmed, the nature of this threat must be taken seriously.”

  “Which is exactly why we have no time to waste,” Ro insisted. “We must seal the city and prepare immediately. Every hour we waste is another that limits our ability to call for aid, and another where every settlement between here and Strang's Spine is at risk of being consumed.”

  Kaius paled. He was out of his depth in a conversation like this, but he hadn’t even thought of those villagers. Most of them were weak. If they waited until the beasts were upon them, there was no way they would be able to flee. They weren’t fast enough to escape.

  Henrik's mouth drew into a thin line. “Pulling people off their farms and sealing the city will kill just as readily as beasts, Ro. More importantly, we need time to prepare and stockpile. Without an understanding of timeframes and the expediency of this threat, playing our hand early could lead to starvation and a protracted siege.”

  “Sir Frent is right,” his chamberlain agreed. “There hasn't been a war on the frontier for three hundred years. We are not prepared, least of all for an assault so sudden and unconventional.”

  However, the chamberlain continued as Rieker started to open his mouth, “we should not sit here and do nothing. We must plan wisely, so that we can act swiftly as soon as it is necessary.”

  The justification was foreign to Kaius. Was starvation really such an issue? Surely the city had grain stockpiles, and there was the city Delve as well. Teams were constantly clearing out that low layer and bringing back tons of foodstuffs.

  “Is the threat of starvation really so dire?” he asked.

  The chamberlain gave him a grave nod. “Our population has surged to nearly fifty thousand. That's a month at most, even with the Delve. We'll be burning through fifty tonnes of grain – or equivalent foodstuffs – a day.”

  “Are our enemies not beasts?” Porkchop interjected, tilting his head quizzically. “Is there some reason we cannot consume the fallen?”

  “Aye…” The chamberlain paused, thinking. “That is a good point. It would be unlikely we could scavenge outside of the walls, but if we assume that some beasts with either flight or climbing capabilities will make it to the front lines of our defences—”

  Bending over, he started to scribble in his notes. “There would be losses, of course, to contamination and spoilage, but it could help.”

  “What of our defenders?” Ro asked. “I know the guard has been growing stronger, just as fast as my Delvers. But will it be enough?”

  The guard captain grunted. “My veterans started to reach Steel months ago. The rank and file are mostly low-Iron – better than they used to be, but still not great. The militia’s… in a rougher spot, though.”

  Next to him, Ernst winced. “Most of them are just everyday folk. Wanted a bit of confidence and security in their lives. Been more focused on wrangling them up for basic weapons training and a bit of drilling than actual expeditions to level.”

  “This one must ask how weak they are, truly,” Arc said.

  “Forty to sixty, mostly,” Ernst replied. “A couple are a little higher. But it’s mostly young folk – those who picked their class after the phase change, or had something vaguely combat-related. Hunters and the like.”

  “We can't put them on the walls,” Susanna whispered. “They'll be slaughtered.”

  She was right. Someone that weak… a single Steel beast could kill them by accident, let alone thousands of them.

  “And if they do not man the walls, then we run the risk of everyone dying anyway,” the guard captain replied.

  Kaius’s mind raced. There had to be something they could do to shore up that weakness. He knew better than most the primal terror that could surge when facing down a beast whose strength overwhelmed your own.

  They needed to be blooded.

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