During the following week, Zion's days were a whirlwind of activity. Each morning, he relished the luxury of a hot shower, a simple pleasure afforded by his stay in the Sphere. Afterward, he frequented the tavern for a meal, using the opportunity to mingle with the locals.

Switching tables daily, Zion engaged in casual conversation with both the tavern staff and fellow guild members. Whether seen as a regular adventurer or recognized for his Herald status, Zion welcomed each interaction, readily sharing stories and offering words of encouragement. By the end of his meal, he had formed new connections, each one strengthening his resolve to protect those around him.

The missions in Tidus offered a diverse array of challenges, and Zion made a point of balancing his workload with aiding the locals. This often led him to take on neglected, riskier missions, much to Alyx's annoyance. Alyx believed they should wait for tougher challenges until the entire party was assembled. However, Zion remained focused on the task at hand.

The news of the impending war and the presence of Champions came as little surprise to Alyx, indicating the gradual buildup of power by Devastation. While Alyx argued that these missions wouldn't address the underlying issues in the long run, Zion saw them as opportunities for others to level up. This advantage would prove invaluable in the upcoming battle.

Zion found the mining in Tidus to be unexpectedly fruitful, yielding higher-quality gems than he had encountered in Terra. With Alyx's assistance, he even managed to acquire some rare life essence gems. Overall, his profession flourished throughout the week, although he remained puzzled by his inability to improve his speech skill despite his daily talks.

By the seventh day in Tidus, Zion had leveled up once and was halfway to the next. While this progress was satisfactory, it fell short of his experiences in Neva. Zion recognized that this was partly due to operating within his abilities and avoiding missions that pushed him to his limits.

Level eleven had bestowed upon him a greater boon than he had anticipated. Instead of the usual three stat points, he had received five—a perk that came with hitting the first level in higher tiers. He opted to allocate the extra points to top off his affinity at thirty, while his resolve received the final point, bringing it to twenty-six. However, reaching the next threshold for affinity had been a far less pleasant experience. He had felt his muscles and mana pathways tear apart and reform, stronger and denser. Unlike the pleasant sensation of widening from acuity, this one had been excruciating.

Alyx had observed Zion's leveling with a tinge of jealousy in his gaze. It stemmed from the fact that Alyx had been at peak second tier for four years. All his abilities had been upgraded, including his ultimate, and he had even achieved expert skill ranks in both staff and polearms—a feat many didn't accomplish until Braid tier or higher. Zion tried to ease his envy by reminding him how easy ascending would be once they were all ready to leave, though it only dulled the envy slightly.

The routine was disrupted on the eighth day of Zion's stay in Tidus. He was informed that his meeting with Mavik would be early in the morning, and he needed to be in the third-floor offices by nine or risk forfeiting his spot. Thus, he found himself climbing the flights of stairs first thing in the morning, a nervous sweat building up as he thought about the impending meeting.

Upon reaching the top of the stairs, Zion encountered a dwarf and an elf standing guard before a set of imposing double doors. These doors, made of heavy oak, bore a sign above them designating the guild master's office. Approaching the guards, Zion halted in front of them.

"Uh, hi," he greeted nervously, fidgeting under their scrutiny. "My name is Zion. I'm here to see Mavik."

Suddenly, one of the guards lunged forward, prompting Zion to summon Onyx and adopt a defensive stance, arcane barrier flaring to life. The dwarf guard chuckled and nudged his companion.

"I told you he was a fighter, Kevla. Did you see that reaction? This kid's seen more action than half the guild already."

Kevla nodded in agreement, handing the dwarf a single gold coin. The dwarf happily pocketed it and returned his attention to the perplexed Zion.

"Sorry about that, Herald. We had a little bet going, and I won. You can go in now; the guild master is waiting for you," he informed Zion, holding the doors open wide.

Zion returned Onyx to his inventory, keeping a wary eye on the pair as he stepped into the office. The door shut behind him with a gentle thud. The office exuded luxury, adorned with various marine elements from Tidus: brilliantly colored sea shells, scales of mighty fish, and even teeth from large sea creatures. The floor resembled the pale cream hue of sand, while the walls mimicked the deep blue of the ocean.

Seated behind a wooden desk was an elderly elf, his appearance almost mythical with the slow aging characteristic of elves. Despite his age, he possessed a solid build, matching Zion's own bulk. Short black hair failed to conceal the numerous scars crisscrossing his face, a testament to battles fought. As Zion entered, the elf glanced up, his serious brown eyes meeting Zion's gaze.

"You must be Zion, the newly arrived Herald. Please, take a seat," Mavik addressed Zion, gesturing toward the empty loveseat. "My name is Mavik Tidus, and I want to welcome you to our lovely home properly."

Mavik's confidence was evident in his demeanor, yet he exuded an aura of approachability.

"Thank you, sir. It's a pleasure to meet you and to be in this wonderful Sphere," Zion replied, shaking the elf's hand as he rose from his seat. The two settled into their respective seats, and an awkward silence settled over the room as Mavik returned his attention to the papers on his desk.

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"Zion, I know exactly why you're sitting in front of me, even without Eva passing along your reasons," Mavik began, his gaze still fixed on the shuffling papers. "Just as I'm sure you know why I was in Hammervale."

"Yes, sir. You were there discussing the impending war," Zion affirmed, his tone emphasizing the significance of their conversation. "The war with Devastation."

“Since we’re both speaking frankly, you should know that Tidus has been foretold to undergo a full battle. I don't know the specifics, just that Nova himself requested me to come here.”

Mavik let out a pent-up sigh, his aged shoulders seeming to sag from the weight of his words. He leaned back in his chair, papers forgotten.

“Tell me, Zion, what should my response be?” he asked, his words sounding jaded. “Do I thank you? Beg you for help? How do I respond to the fact that many under my protection will die in the coming years?”

Zion thought carefully about his response, considering the implications of what was happening and how he would respond if the roles were reversed.

“I truly don't know, guild master. I wish I could say it was as simple as you take my help, and we kick ass. But it's not. I don't even know if I can save this Sphere.”

Mavik laughed bitterly at this, his head still leaned back. “Then what can you offer me, oh great Herald?”

“Hope, sir,” Zion replied firmly, holding his posture straight. “I can’t promise you we'll win, but I promise under Ki, my Goddess, that I will die trying to protect those within this Sphere.”

Mavik looked at him then, really looked at him. The facade of stoic confidence had evaporated, leaving a simply exhausted guild leader. He took in Zion, his eyes taking in every part of him as deeply as they could.

“I believe that to be true, Herald.”

He once again began shuffling through papers, this time his eyes determined and his movements purposeful. Finally, seeming to find what he was looking for, he slid a paper from the pile and held it out to Zion, his hand shaking slightly.

Zion took the single sheet of paper and glanced it over. His heart dropped as he started to take in the details of what was obviously a scouting report. It wasn't super detailed, and the white paper was stained with the slight red of blood droplets.

“How accurate is this information, sir? Is this recent or before you came back from your trip?” Zion mumbled, his body trembling slightly at the information he had just read.

“The scouts only returned last night, and for Ki’s sake, call me Mavik, or at least Mr. Tidus,” he told Zion, snapping the last bit. “As of last night, there are one hundred thousand mobs stationed at the edges of the Sphere. It doesn't even matter their ranks with that many creatures. Tell me, Zion, can you guess how many adventurers and soldiers we have as a whole in Tidus?”

Zion reflected on his time spent here, recalling the multitude of guild members he had encountered, which, if he were being generous, might have numbered around three thousand. The Tidus barracks, he estimated, could possibly accommodate another five thousand at most. But these figures seemed exaggerated, even to him.

"Roughly seven thousand, maybe," Zion hazarded a guess, addressing Mavik.

"Close enough, Herald," Mavik replied wearily, rubbing his eyes as though plagued by nights of lost sleep. "We currently have just over six thousand active members, perhaps another five hundred or so retired."

"How do we even begin to contend with over fifteen times that number of monsters?" Mavik mused aloud, his gaze fixed on the paper Zion held.

"I won't sugarcoat it," Zion continued, passing the paper back. "It's going to be an uphill battle, but we have no other choice. Tidus is one of the largest water collection sites in all of Nifell, and without that water, waging war won't just be difficult, it'll be impossible."

"I'm in this for the long haul, Mavik, even if it means risking my life. We can either lament the daunting task before us or take action."

"What's the game plan, then, Herald?" Mavik demanded, his hands slamming onto the desk, sending papers scattering in all directions. "How do we even the odds?"

"First, we need to launch recruitment efforts in every Sphere that will permit it. We must seek out fresh recruits," Zion suggested, earning a scoff from Mavik. "It may seem unlikely, but it's worth the effort. According to Nova's projections, we still have over a month to prepare. That's plenty of time to enlist the help of mercenaries."

"Then, we bolster the town's defenses. Strengthen the walls, install spikes—anything that can give us an advantage in a siege."

"But won't that require informing the public of what's to come? Do you truly believe civilians will simply stand by while we march off to war?" Mavik countered, his gaze piercing into Zion's with even greater intensity.

"Yes, I do." The response seemed to momentarily stun Mavik, prompting Zion to press forward with conviction. "I've only been here a week, but one thing has become abundantly clear: the people of this Sphere are fiercely loyal." His gaze bore into Mavik, Zion striving to make his words penetrate the man's frazzled demeanor. "They view this place as more than just a place to live; it's their sanctuary, the place they want to breathe their last breath. Do you realize how many have foregone ascension just to remain here? Forty individuals have confided this to me in the short time I've been here."

Mavik sank deeper into his seat, a glimmer of the fiery resolve fading from his eyes.

"Listen, we can prevail in this. We can repel the enemy and strike the first decisive blow. But it requires effort from everyone, especially the guild leader who founded this town. We need to instill the belief that we can achieve this!" Zion's voice swelled with fervor as he rose from his chair, leaning over the desk and practically invading Mavik's personal space.

"You are Mavik Tidus, a man who conquered a Sphere, transforming a once humble, muddy place into a cherished home. Stand tall and fight to thwart these invaders. I will stand by you," Zion declared, slamming his own fist onto the desk, causing the wood to crack. "My party will stand by you!" Another resounding blow echoed through the room. "Your people will stand by you!"

With a final forceful strike, the desk split in half and thudded to the floor, the sound reverberating throughout the chamber. The sudden noise prompted the guards to burst through the doors, weapons at the ready.

Zion paid them no heed, his eyes fixed on Mavik, observing as the guild leader rose from his chair. He watched as slumped shoulders straightened, and dull eyes began to gleam with newfound determination. A spark of fire ignited within Mavik, fueled by the seeds of hope that Zion had sown. In that moment, Zion witnessed the transformation of a leader.

Water began to dance around Mavik as the flames of resolve burned within him, droplets scattering across the room. Zion saw the power emanating from someone who had spent decades at the pinnacle of authority, whose very essence was forged in conflict. He beheld the rebirth of a general that day.

"Herald, let's discuss our strategy for war."