"...do you want to do it?" John heard Galan'il's voice coming from a group of six Aerilians.

"I don't know, just stall for as long as possible," Dilah'ec retorted. "I was not planning to reveal my legendary card this soon either, but we can all agree with the situation..."

"And I appreciate your honesty," Melis'ar added, "but that doesn't change the fact, that… John, come," the prince waved at him to grab his attention. "We are planning how to deal with my younger brother, but what we came up with has its disadvantages. Also, we don't know how much you are willing to help us."

Catching up to them, there was the prince, Dilah'ec, their Knight-Protectors, one man in a brown toga with a curved blade, and an older woman wearing a black robe covered in intricate sigils.

How much am I willing to help them against their own people?

At first, he wanted to ask for guarantees or arguments for why what he is about to do was justified, but at the end of the day, it wouldn't matter. The other side would have just as many reasons, guarantees, and arguments as Melis'ar would.

As bad as it sounds, I already picked mine and they are standing on the other side… No, they are standing in my way, and however unfortunate it may be, they are going to be crushed.

"I am willing to go as far as necessary," he answered with finality. "Now tell me what are you planning to do."

It was only a flickering moment, but he spotted deep-rooted grief in Duraq'er's grim face.

"Like I've said earlier," Dilahec repeated, "if you buy me enough time, I can damage their Fate, making some of their actions lead to unfortunate circumstances. However, I've learned that the less I try to force specific outcomes, the broader the results are, most often creating cascading misfortunes that can ruin entire groups."

"Hey, uhh… Can you try that identification card on me again?" John asked Galanil, breaking their argument and making them focus on him instead.

After a moment of concentration, Galan'il asked why, because nothing had changed.

Well of course nothing had changed, I have not slotted it in yet. Apocalypse deck!

Pulling a common increased Focus out, he slotted his new uncommon card.

"And what about now?"

"Still the… hm? Everything is the same, but your threat lowered from lethal all the way to moderate." Seeing John's uncertain face, he added, "That is number four out of eight, between low and significant. For comparison, Duraq'er shows to me as high, Karak'gu," he nodded at the unknown Aerilian, "is low, and Dilah'ec is…"

Her sharp look made him gulp and swallow the following words down.

"That was a clever choice, John," Duraqer agreed and offered a respectful nod, breaking the awkward moment with his bluntness.

"How do you expect it to play out? Will they ask for a meeting, will they attack the walls, or?"

"They will ask for a meeting, as is required by our decorum, give us their demands, and await our reply. After that, they will rejoin their group and launch an assault in full force."

"And how many Aerilians does the prince have with him?"

"Two dozen of his strongest," answered Karak'gu. "He is putting everything on the line with this approach. If he fails to take our shelter, his position will crumble and he will be forced to retreat to our world."

"We need to figure something out!" lamented Dilah'ec. "If we let them begin the assault on their terms, we will suffer significant losses. I need a stable position and time, otherwise, my abilities are only comparable to a normal grunt."

"Hmm, could we… perhaps leave the walls, hide in that yellow mansion over there, and flank their group after they pass by?"

"Absolutely not! I will not allow the prince to be captured," Duraq'er immediately refused. "Also why would you want to leave the safety of our walls?"

"You misunderstood, Duraq'er. What I meant to say was, only me, Dilah'ec, and I suppose Galan'il, would attempt the strategy. I am well aware of how dangerous someone with high Fate is, and if she has a card that can weaponize its effects with ease, you would be foolish not to use it."

"It is dangerous, but it could work," Melis'ar mumbled, lost in thoughts. "Her absence from the meeting can be explained, and if we time everything right, we… Yes, if you are confident and willing to try this, I approve."

John could see the uncertainty warring on Dilah'ec's face, so he asked an important question to clarify their situation, "How noticeable is your ability?"

"I… It shouldn't be. Unless I make a mistake, which I won't, or unless they have a powerful Warden hidden in their midst, they will not notice anything amiss until it is too late."

"Ok, let me use some cards I bought from Al'drul and then we can move out."

Using two Willpower cards in a row brought him a pounding headache, but as the obsidian merchant had said, it shouldn't cause any long-lasting side effects. Luckily, both the third and the fourth cards—Focus and Perception—brought his attributes only halfway up to the next threshold. Plus, using both at the same time balanced their side effects out.

I should only break through the D-grade thresholds with the opposing pairs together, he noted and looked around.

Running to the north gate, John caught up with Dilah'ec and Galan'il, and they stepped into the wrecked remains of what used to be the old manor's vibrant garden. The previous shelter—the Iron Citadel—leveled all its infrastructure down, but the outside was large enough to remain untouched by the changes the System wrought onto the brown soil.

Climbing over the eastern hedges, they snuck into the neighboring manor's ground and carefully headed inside, doing their best not to be spotted by any forward scouts of the enemy's assault party.

"Let's find our way into the attic and hunker down," John suggested. "If the situation develops as Melis'ar described, we have to…"

"Don't worry, John. Melis'ar will contact me through an enchanted trinket when their negotiation ends."

They entered the second floor and climbed a ladder, finally arriving in the attic with a perfect view over the street down below. John sat down next to the southern-situated window and opened up his deck to pass the time.

[John Miles {E⋆}

Feral intuition (E)

Champion of the Fourfold Crucible (E)

Unbreakable mind (Unique)

Nightstalker's Awareness (Un)

Troll's blood (Un)

Hand-crafted heart of the Pale Eternal (L)

Cold resistance (C)

Predator's Guise (Un)]

[Universal connection

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Increase Affinity effect (E)]

[Animate blessed stiletto (E)

Increase melee penetration (C)

Increased minion movement speed (Un)

Increased minion combat distance (Un)

Wicked wounds (Un)]

[Storm Wisp (R)

Increased minion attack speed (Un)

Increased projectile distance (C)

Heavy impact (Un)

Minion camouflage (R)

Weakening strikes (R)]

[Desert Wraith (R)

Increased area of effect (Un)]

There was a stark difference between the cards supporting his abilities and those supporting his body, and looking at the mix of Epic, Legendary, and Unique cards brought a smile to his unshaven face.

Specializing to outlast my foes is not a bad strategy after all.

Pulling up his main body card, he noticed two new additions sitting at the bottom.

[John Miles {E⋆}

Strength: E (30), Perception: E (30), Vitality: D (55)

Fate: D (70 + 35)

Dexterity: E (20), Focus: E (30), Willpower: D (40)

Soul marks: Shroud of the Fate-Stalker

Elevated bond: Witherfang {F}]

Only five more cards until D-grade.

His remaining funds amounted to roughly two-thirds of another card, leaving him thirty thousand whites short.

Hmm, it isn't that bad, he pondered. If I manage to complete the challenge card, I'll get a bit over ten thousand, so doing it twice…

Getting lost in his thoughts, he was just about to finish his plans for today when a gentle tap brought his wandering mind back to the present.

A silent nod from Dilah'ec served as the cue to begin their intangible ambush. The window was mostly covered, leaving only two thin gaps to see through which was all the Aerilian girl needed to unleash misery and misfortune on all the unfortunate fools below.

Carefully taking their pre-planned positions, they reached the window without any notice from the two dozen people on the street in front of them.

Due to her height, Dilah'ec had to slouch down and hold still in an uncomfortable position, leading to her flowing amber hair tickling John's neck. She was standing behind and slightly to the left of him, leaving him a small gap in the bottom-right of the window.

Damn, this is distracting, John slightly shivered, feeling a mix of emotions from the very close proximity of the young woman behind him. Focus, you idiot! He mentally slapped himself and did his best to ignore the sounds of her strained breathing. Thanks to the Nightstalker card, he was able to easily make out even small details about the group's weaponry, but there was no sign of anything else happening.

Now, let's try with Fate-sight.

Closing his eyes, he spread his awareness outward and immediately noticed the myriad of golden lights, flickering in the distance. A few were like small torches, but many others were like fireflies, flickering and barely visible.

I still don't see anything… There!

A small flicker was all he saw, but his gut was telling him that something bad just happened to the person the light represented.

Watching the signs was an awe-inspiring experience because this was the work of the master weaver. Where Sgt. Harrison only used the environment to redirect blows or to cause ill effects, Dilah'ec weaved something akin to a web of cascading failures. One on itself could be nothing but a cough from the sudden chill, or a slightly wetter spot on the ground, however, each flicker announced yet another small trap, ready to spring out.

They are beginning to move, John mused as he observed the lights form into ranks and advance.

Knowing what was about to happen, he also prepared to lash out. Where her work was like that of a spider striking from the shadows, his was going to be like a massive hammer crashing into the middle of their ranks, and that was why he was waiting until the very last moment.

The assault party was now closer to the walls, and John was able to see another array of lights blocking their path. The battle has just begun.

Now!

Pulling on his reserves, he did the simplest attack possible. Reaching out for the smallest "torch", he grasped and crushed it in his imaginary hand.

There was something off-putting about it. Like stepping on a cockroach, he would say, as he felt the protective shell crunch and the light be snuffed out.

What did I even do?

It wasn't actually snuffed out, but from a small torch, the light was reduced to a barely flickering ember, the remains of a campfire. Opening his eyes, he observed a woman in a bright orange robe cry out and fall to her knees.

A lance of ice shattered against a wooden shield of the man standing in front of her, but a foot-long shard split from the base, bounced off a protective ability covering another man standing next to her, and got redirected directly into her open mouth.

Ouch, John winced, seeing her feebly claw at the foreign object, but there wasn't much she could do. The tip was sticking half an inch from the back of her neck.

He was about to repeat the same action, but a bout of weakness spreading through his body made him reconsider. He had overdrawn his Fate pool twice now and the last time he was rendered barely alive.

If I spend all of my Fate, would I be vulnerable to similarly fatal misfortune?

Closing his eyes to assess his situation, he had a little under two-thirds of his pool left, further cementing the decision.

Nope, not gonna happen.

With the riskiest part of the plan successfully finished, John glanced over his shoulder to a tired face with closed eyes and a frown locked in a deep concentration less than a foot behind him.

How deep are her reserves?

Once again closing his eyes, he was startled to see less than a fifth of her previous brilliance remaining.

"Hey, Dila, how are you holding up?" he whispered, trying to bring her out of her trance, gently.

Unfortunately, her loud yelp was anything but sneaky, and as she instinctively jerked back, she somehow lost her footing.

Reacting quickly, John pushed on his E-grade attributes and caught her before she fully lost her balance.

"What is… argh," she clutched her chest with a pained wheeze. "I… I lost myself in the weave. How bad have I?"

Closing her eyes, she must have focused inwards and by the snort from Gilanil, the unknown word she uttered had some very explicit meaning.

"Ehm, guys? Five people are heading our way," warned John after noticing a movement through the small gap in the window.

"I've seen her like this before," Gilanil shook his head. "She'll be useless for the next two hours, maybe more."

"Hey!" Dilahec refuted, but even that sounded like the last garble of a dying animal.

"I hope I can count on you to have my back because unless you can outrun a scouting party with her over your shoulder, we are stuck here."

"Mhm," John nodded and jumped down the open hatch before him.

We should go with overwhelming force, he decided.

After all, this will be his first fight against a trained force and he had no delusions of going toe to toe with them.

No, even if they are only a quarter as good as Duraq'er and Galan'il, they are going to cut me to ribbons.

A few seconds later, Galan'il climbed down the ladder and joined him in the hallway on the second floor.

"You should take position above the stairs," the man advised, pointing at the expertly carved railing from black mahogany. "I'll block their path there, opening their backs to your minions."

It was a reasonable plan. Counter their numbers on the narrow stairway and use a moment of surprise to cause as much damage in the opening attack as possible.

Hiding his stiletto in plain sight, he let it stick to the side wall like a decorative piece. His Storm Wisp took position high above the stairs, counting on its camouflage to remain unseen, and his Desert Wraith stayed floating next to him, just out of sight.

Less than a minute later, a muffled noise coming from below announced an imminent arrival, but the trap was laid and the ambush was ready to burst out.

Patience, John chanted as the wooden stairway softly groaned under the incoming group. Almost there… The sounds of leather boots came to a sudden halt, but before John had time to decide on his response, he heard Galan'il's firm voice.

"Turn back," he said in a commanding tone, "I don't want your blood on my hands."

What is he doing!? That wasn't the plan.

"Surrender, and nothing will happen to you. We are taking Lady Dilah'ec into our custody, but you have His Highness's word, that he will treat you well."

"Better than that royal bastard," John overheard a snide remark from a feminine voice.

"I understand," Galan'il replied with a hint of sadness, and the next thing John heard was the sound of a blade cutting through the air, a pained yelp, and panicked shouts.

Taking that as a cue, he leaned over the railing, commanded all three minions to engage, and let his javelin fly.