The other side of Reincarnation

　The preparation was as complete as it was ever going to get.

　Ignivar had pushed me past every limit I thought I had, twice over. Vance and Elian had mapped enough of the domain’s edges to know where we could and couldn’t afford to fight. Elaine’s defense force stood ready, Eris’s three trainees drilled to the point of exhaustion, Aeron’s council had already planned for the worst outcome and quietly prepared for it anyway.

Whatever’s coming, I don’t want it reaching Horizoncrest at all. Not the gates. Not the town. Not the people who’ve built lives here, trusting that this place would stay safe.

”We’re not waiting for them to arrive,” I told the gathered leadership, the night before the armies were confirmed to be within a few days’ march. ”We go to them. Split the threat before it ever gets close enough to matter.”

　Nobody argued.

　I think, by then, everyone understood exactly why.

　We split at dawn — Ace, Eris, Elaine, Ignivar, Elva, Celica, and Luke leading a mixed force of Horizoncrest’s elven, human, and dwarf-equipped fighters toward the Ashford army itself.

　My own path went the opposite direction, toward the Church’s forces specifically.

My target’s in that group somewhere. Whoever actually sent the unit that killed Doran and Fenrik. I need information more than I need another empty battlefield.

　Ace stayed with me rather than joining the others — a decision neither of us discussed out loud, simply understood.

　I found the Church’s forces arrayed across a wide, broken plain, sixty ordinary knights, thirty Holy Knights, and ten commander-ranked Holy Knights among them, banners raised, formation tight and disciplined.

　I settled myself atop a broken pillar overlooking the field, Ace curled at my side, and waited for them to actually notice me.

Might as well be comfortable about this.

　It took them longer than I expected.

　When they finally did, the entire formation stopped dead.

”Is that not who we sent to restrain?” one of the commanders said, voice carrying clearly across the still air. ”Why is he here, waiting for us?”

”This will be easy,” another commander said, dismissive, already reaching for his weapon.

”Only one way to find out,” a third voice said — steadier, more measured than the other two — and a woman stepped forward from the formation’s front rank.

”My name is Sophia Aurelain,” she said, ”head of the Holy Knight commanders.”

　She studied me with careful, professional attention.

”Are you the anomaly known as Kai?”

”Maybe,” I said, still seated, unbothered. ”Maybe not.”

”If you are,” she continued, patient despite my answer, ”we would like you to come with us peacefully.”

”Peacefully,” I repeated, letting the word sit there a moment. ”You brought an army. To a place you never once considered marching toward, in years of knowing it existed. And the moment I actually settle somewhere and start living, that’s when Ashford decides it needs taking. That’s your version of peaceful?”

”The only reason for any of this,” Sophia said, steady, ”is that we fear what you might become.”

”What gave you that idea?”

”You’ve already killed two units of the Holy Church,” she said. ”That’s reason enough for restraint to seem necessary.”

”That’s true,” I said. ”They did something that made me kill them, though. Neither death was unprovoked.”

　I studied her a long moment.

”Were you the one who sent the first unit? The one I killed six years back?”

”No,” she said, without hesitation. ”That’s precisely why we sent the second — to understand why the first went at all, since no record of that original order properly survived within our own command.”

Huh. That’s either a genuinely honest answer, or an extremely well-rehearsed lie.

”Hope you’re not lying to me,” I said, quiet.

”I detect no trace of deception in what she has said,” Anti-Subconsciousness confirmed.

　I sighed, standing finally, the whole encounter suddenly feeling like exactly the waste of time I’d worried it might be.

”Then there’s no reason for any of us to fight,” I said. ”Go home, Sophia. Take your people back to Ashford.”

”Absolutely not,” the second division’s commander snapped, stepping forward. ”We’re not returning without you.”

”Ooh,” I said, mild. ”Is that so.”

　I turned back to Sophia, something settling into place that felt, for once, less like anger and more like simple, quiet certainty.

”If I don’t belong anywhere in this world,” I said, ”I’ll build somewhere I do.”

　I held her gaze.

”Sophia — do you stand with me, or against me? Make your decision.”

　She was quiet a long moment, weighing something I suspected went considerably deeper than the immediate tactical question.

”I’m sorry,” she said, finally. ”I have to decline your offer.”

”Oh well,” I said. ”I tried.”

　The formation shifted into full battle readiness around her, and my own blade materialized in my hand without ceremony — Anathema-mana bleeding faint and cold along its edge.

　I watched every one of their expressions shift the instant they saw it.

There it is.

Now they know the reports weren’t exaggerated.